#and the lighting and colouring is so cozy x((((

[team-frightfur]

(Theyre also blushing but i cant figure out why). Both Kenzan and Johan are more focused on Judai tho, which could either be bc theyre both gay for him or cause this takes place post s4 (so theyre happy to see Jou enjoying life again after his depression). Then you have Fubuki and Asuka in the corner. Fubuki is doing his standout uncoordinated cloudcuckoolander bit by not wearing blue/black/white/yellow like everyone else (get with the program, man!) Instead he's going for that... christmas ensemble? With the rare red....tho now I see it, there's also judais pants and the coke bottles and the red cups and oh my god it was a red/blue/green/yellow colour scheme all along. ANYWAY, while Asuka is more serious with her modest clothing and walking boots, she has this small smile. Like, clearly she's not super duper ecstatic over his dumbass ukelele serenades, but she'll humour him today of all days, not just because it's a special day but because she looooves having her brother back.

Final verdict: this pic honestly just gets better the more you look at it. It makes me wish i had synesthesia just so I could taste the cozy hot chocolate vibes. Like its truly utterly immaculate. Kudos to you for all time!!!

[readwritealldayallnight]

Yours, Mine, Ours

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

wc: 1.5k words

warnings/tags: fluff

“So did the other two actually say no or did you just never invite them?”

“‘Course I invited them, you asked me to, so I did.” Simon replies with ease, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead of him. “They’re smart lads, lovie, they knew to say no all by themselves.”

You shake your head at him in disbelief but the smile that’s been plastered across your face ever since the two of you pulled out of your flat’s parking doesn’t budge. Simon’s been driving for a few hours now, and as stressful of an experience as that is alone, you’re too excited to mind the long journey in the car.

Simon is on leave for the next two weeks, something about Price having to attend a funeral following a death in the family, and deciding that everyone on the force was due for a bit of time off. Seeing as the Captain was going to be preoccupied during his time off duty, he had asked if Simon wouldn’t mind checking in on his house for him, making sure things were alright. He’d even offered for the two of you to stay in the guest room for the duration of their leave.

Simon had explained how Price knew that the two of you were living in a small flat in London, and apparently his home was in a beautiful, forested, isolated area which meant he had essentially no neighbours, something he also knew would appeal to Simon. He offered for the two of you to stretch your legs out there at enjoy the property, including the privacy that came with it.

Wanting to be polite, you’d told Simon he should extend the invitation to Soap and Gaz, thinking they might enjoy a nice, quiet stay-cation as well at their Captain’s place away from it all. It would appear your lover had different ideas in mind however. Though you couldn’t blame him entirely, the thought of having the cozy cabin all to yourselves was certainly more appealing.

Every which way you look outside the car, your vision is filled by endless blurry trees as you zoom by, the colours of the leaves having finally changed into the warmer, more vibrant colour palette that came along with the autumn chill. If the drive up to his property was any indication of how beautiful the area really was, then you were in for quite the treat.

Entranced by the beauty of the landscape in comparison to the city lights you’ve grown so used to, you fail to notice the glances Simon keeps sneaking your way, the smallest of satisfied smiles seemingly permanently etched upon his face beneath his balaclava. He was grateful that after explaining the situation and Price’s generous offer to you, you had been too excited to ask many questions, instead getting a jump start on packing a duffel bag or two.

You were one of the most intelligent, clever, curious people he’d ever known, and it was normally quite difficult to get anything by you. He was therefore feeling rightfully proud of himself as he drove you nearer and nearer to the home you believed belonged to his Captain. In actuality, there was no funeral for Price to attend, the sergeants had certainly not been invited along on your getaway, and the home you’d be staying in wasn’t Price’s.

It was yours.

Yours, and Simon’s.

The two of you had been living in that shoebox of a flat he’d considered as ‘satisfactory’ when he was only staying there as a bachelor, for far too long. As ideal as the location might have been, there simply just wasn’t enough space for two people to live together, even considering Simon’s absences for work and that fact that when he was home, you two were essentially always on top of one another anyways.

You’d both been searching for a new flat for what felt like ages now, none of the places you visited feeling like the right fit. Simon would be weary about a certain neighborhood, you’d be concerned with the lack of any balcony or outdoor space, he’d ignore the price tag that felt your eyes bulging, and you’d shake your head as you walked through doorways that had him needing to duck down.

Little did you know, Simon had been doing his own house hunting, outside of the city. You had told Simon you were fine with staying in London, understanding that it’s convenient to have everything near by. But Simon didn’t want to give you just ‘fine’. He wanted to give you a home. The home he intends to spend the rest of his life with you in, plans on carrying you over the threshold in your wedding dress, hopes to carry sleeping newborns in their car seats through the door.

For months now, Simon has subtlety been learning more about what that home looked like to you. He’d look over your shoulder as you scrolled through Pinterest, casually asking if you could show him your boards, you know just for fun, and paid very close attention when you showed him the one named ‘future house’. On his phone, he had a list a mile long in his notes app, from secretly writing down every comment you made while watching your home reno shows. He’ll casually ask you what you think of the houses you drive by, jotting down your answers in his mind, remembering likes and dislikes.

He believes that like you, it’s the people filling the home that matter more than the structure itself, as proven by the way you continue to put up with his minuscule flat. He knows you mean it when you say you’re alright with another flat. But he has the money goddammit, he has the means to do this for you, and when the listing came up for a home in what you’d revealed as being your ideal area to settle down in one day, the house resembling the amalgamation of everything he believed you’d described as being your perfect place, he knew he had to put an offer in.

And if there ever was anything about the house you didn’t like or wanted to change, he’d gladly do it for you, no questions asked. You want to paint the bedroom? Just tell him what colour you want. You want to change the railing on the wrap around porch? He’s on his way to the hardware store already. You need him to dig a stump out of the backyard to make room for your garden? Sit back and enjoy the show lovie, he’s on it. And when the time comes to build a crib? Well he may as well baby proof the whole house while he’s at it too.

He’s pictured your reaction a thousand times over in his mind. He imagines you’ll maybe give a small gasp when he turns the corner of the long driveway and you first see the cozy, two-storey home, surrounded by never-ending foliage of red, orange, and yellow leaves, the time of year perfect for appreciating autumn in the UK, as well as the privacy the tall trees grant you. He thinks the first thing you’ll comment on will likely be the windows, an item high on your priority list he knew to adhere to.

He imagines you kicking off your boots as you step through the door, pace quickening to explore every room, spinning in the kitchen as you joke about how jealous you are of Price. He pictures you groaning with envy when you spot your dream master bathroom, insisting to Simon that since you’d been tasked with checking in on the home you may as well see every room, right? He plans to explain away the obvious sparseness of the home as the Captain not having lived here long, as being very non-materialistic after all his years in service.

He’ll continue to play along for as long as he can, part of him knowing that you know him well enough that you’re likely to catch onto his deception at some point. However he hopes that before you start rummaging through kitchen cabinets and find them empty, too empty even for an absentee captain of a homeowner, that you’ll mention something along the lines of wishing you could stay here longer. That’s when he plans to slip a key into the palm of your hand, revealing that you might be able to stay longer than you believe.

The small piece of metal that’ll unlock the rest of your lives together, sits heavy in his pocket, in contrast to the light feeling in his heart when his hand reaches across the dashboard to grab a hold of yours, knowing that the content, lovesick smile you offer him is likely stretched across his face as well, staring right back at you.

Though you’re unaware that Simon is currently driving towards your home, and not away from it, you’re gently stroking the scarred skin across his hand, feeling as though your home is sitting right next to you, holding your hand and your heart at the same time.

[simpingforstardew]

a mini cozy harvey smut would be amazing if possible ❤️ 🤭

no pressure of course!

pairing: sdv harvey x reader

synopsis: one mini cozy harvey smut, coming right up~ just some fluffy smut, pretty much no plot ♡ i really hope you like it !!

warnings: 18+ smut (minors dni), reader is described as having a vagina, oral sex (reader receiving).

word count: 1.3k

Sparrows chirp outside as rays of the spring sunrise filter through your sheer curtains, casting a golden glow into the room. Beneath the layers of yarn blankets enveloping the bed, you luxuriate in their comforting embrace, basking in the tranquillity of the early morning.

Beside you, Harvey stirs, stretching languidly while he haphazardly pushes the duvet off his body. As he arches his back slightly, the fabric of his white t-shirt obediently follows the movement, riding up to reveal a glimpse of his belly underneath and the happy trail that adorns his midsection. Your eyes follow the trail down to his green plaid boxers, hanging loosely on his hips.

“Darling, you’re staring.” Harvey whispered through a grin, his morning voice more gruff than usual; his eyes slowly adjusting to the light.

You smile in spite of the blush that warms your cheeks, “I’m allowed, aren’t I?”

The doctor rubs his heavy eyes as a soft chuckle escapes his lips, “Shh, come here, you’re-,” A yawn interrupts him, “You’re so far away.”

“I’m only on my side of the bed, Harv,” You giggle, shuffling towards your boyfriend, “‘s not that far.”

He wraps you protectively in his arms, one hand lightly massaging your back while the other finds itself on the back of your head, pushing you comfortably into the warmth of his chest. Harvey’s chypre scent was just as comforting as the embrace. Your calloused fingers trace shapes into the skin under his t-shirt, trying to remember where each mole and freckle is.

“I love you, y’know?” You whisper, looking up at him as another smile tugs on his lips.

“Of course, I just hope you know that I love you more.” He kisses your forehead. You still weren’t used to the tickle of his moustache.

You reach a hand up to caress his soft cheeks, while his viridescent eyes scan your face— as if he was memorising every feature. Harvey’s strong arms pull you impossibly closer as you stare at his mouth, your thumb delicately brushes along his lower lip.

Before you could tease him for the flush that was quickly colouring his cheeks, he leans down to kiss you.

His lips, soft and yielding, already carried the faint taste of coffee; it was intoxicating. A soft whine escaped his lips as you threaded your fingers through his dark hair, still tousled from sleep. Touching him feels like heaven; tasting him is like indulging in a forbidden fruit. It was the kind of adoration that devotees created worship for.

You hadn’t realized how desperately you needed this until this moment, a moment in which you two are the only people awake in the valley. Every sensation seems to converge into a single, overwhelming need for closeness.

Harvey’s large hand moves down to your thigh as it rests on his hip, tugging you desperately towards him, as he deepens the kiss. This kiss is nothing like your first just weeks ago: a gentle, yet nervous confession. This is carnally unrestrained; honest.

“Please I-,” the whispered plea slips out of your kiss bitten lips.

“Fucking insatiable,” Harvey chuckles softly, his lips still brushing against your own, before rolling to cage you between his arms. With your back now pressed against the plush sheets, Harvey took the opportunity to tug off his wrinkled t-shirt, fumbling with the hem before discarding it on the floor. With anybody else, at any other time in his life, perhaps he would have been too insecure to do so.

Harvey’s large frame hovers over you, his hand gentle on your neck as he leans in close. “Tell me what you want,” he whispers; you feel the warmth of his breath caress your ear, “I need to hear you say it.”

“Fuck, you’re killing me here— Please, I…” you beg, voice reduced to a hoarse whisper, “I need you, Harvey.”

He kisses down your neck, nipping just to see you squirm, as his hand caresses your chest beneath your t-shirt.

“You’re so pretty when you’re desperate,” he continues to praise you between kisses, marking your most sensitive areas as he makes his way down your body, “So pretty.”

As he shuffles down the bed, he lifts up your t-shirt to kiss your belly— blowing the occasionally raspberry in response to your embarrassed whines. You look down to see him comfortably snug underneath the duvet, kissing your inner thighs with delicate reverence before meeting your gaze.

“Hi.” he smiles, chuckling as he looks at you longingly.

“Hi.” you respond breathlessly, stroking the brunette waves of his hair. You involuntarily tighten your grasp when you feel the warmth of his breathe tease your clothed pussy; a sinful moan escapes his lips in response.

“Careful, darling,” Harvey exhales, “You don’t want me to come that fast, do you?”

Your breath hitches as you hopelessly buck your hips, feeling both of Harvey’s large hands reach to grab your ass “N-no, fuck— sorry.”

Your wetness soaks through your underwear as you feel Harvey’s deft fingers rub slow circles on your clit; his other hand moving to diligently massage your tense hips. Despite the doctor’s dominant act, you could feel him grinding against the soft mattress as he pants pathetically. He glances up with puppy dog eyes, through the hair that had cascaded down his face, to watch for your reactions.

“Do you-,” you whimper, interrupted by the increasing speed of your boyfriend’s fingers, “Do you want to fuck me, puppy?”

“More than I’ve wanted anything,” Harvey sits up, tugging off your underwear, “but right now, I need to taste you.”

Harvey is quick to begin lapping up your juices, occasionally moaning to send vibrations through your sensitive cunt. He is committed to satisfying every inch of your sex so much it almost overstimulates you. His hot mouth, his coarse moustache, his wet tongue, all determined to make you climax.

“So gorgeous for me like this, darling,” Harvey gasps; all you can do— all you want to do— is whimper and moan as you weakly grind against his face.

Slowly, he pushes two fingers inside you— the mess of your anticipation from Harvey’s unrelenting praise making the perfect lube. The delectable stretch just barely satisfies the heavy ache in your pussy; so you roll your hips in time with his digits as they slide in and out, hitting just the right spot. With his fingers fucking you, he continued to eat you out like a man starved. You spread your legs further when he pulls you closer to his face, resting one thigh on Harvey’s shoulder.

“Mmm, p-please.. Fuck—” your moans were becoming unintelligible, your boyfriend’s ministrations unravelling you completely, “Please, Harv’— I’m so close.”

Snapping your hips back and forth, Harvey’s nose nudges against your clit as he groans beneath you; you quickly came undone. As you stumble blissfully towards your release, your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth falls slack; wanton cries fill the room. You feel your legs continue to shake when Harvey pulls his fingers out, the absence of his touch making you whine.

“So good for me, I got you. There you go—,” Harvey soothes; as you open your eyes again, you’re greeted by the sight of him sucking your juices from his fingers. His unwavering eye-contact leaving you breathless, “All for me.”

He makes his way back up the bed, bringing you back into his arms as you catch your breath; after a few moments, your light-headedness fades as you ground yourself in his embrace.

“Wait, Harv—” you mumble, “What time is it? You don’t have to be in the clinic today do you?”

“Shh, don’t you worry, Maru has everything sorted out for today,” he traces shapes in your back, almost lulling you back to sleep, “How about I get you some water while you go to the toilet, then I can make us some breakfast? Is that ok, honey?”

You nuzzle into his chest, nodding emphatically to his morning plans, “Sounds perfect.”

[bloodhoundsandplagues]

Home.

Jinx x reader

Summary: set between Act 1 and 2 of Arcane season 2. You find a moment of calm at home with Jinx, Isha, and a stray dog you've found along the way.

Warnings: spoilers for Arcane season 1, tooth-rotting fluff (I hope) not proofread

No use of Y/N, no pronouns used for reader, no gender specific terms etc...

A/N: WHOO first piece of writing by Lev on this blog yippee!! I sincerely hope you all enjoy this lolsies. Please interact! I'm taking requests teehee

You don’t remember the last time you felt this at peace. 

It is like a buzzing, filling your chest, lifting you practically off your feet as you make my way home. 

This feeling is manufactured- it is not coming from the outside. It comes from deep inside your chest, thrumming happily, snuggled between your lungs, right below your heart. There are reasons for this warmth, this light- well, one reason. Her name is Jinx. 

When you say you’re going home, all you really think of is her. Yes, her lair is home- it is warm, and cozy, and as safe as a hot air balloon suspended above what seems to be an infinite void can be- but without her, it would be nothing. 

She is the light that fills your chest, with her bright smile and ridiculously long blue hair and perfect pink eyes. She is the weight on your lungs, making it hard to breathe when you think of her. She’s all the cheesy, corny shit the romance authors you hated so as a child wrote. Only instead of being a character, only words on a worn out page, she’s real, and she’s only a two minute walk away from where you are now. 

You have a satchel slung over your shoulder, the Dog (you don’t know when it became your dog; it just appeared by your side one day, and hasn’t left since) trotting along beside you. Its fur is matted. You reach down and scratch between its ears as you near the Last Drop, smiling to yourself. Never had you thought you would be living this life- on your way home, supplies for Jinx in your bag, the Dog padding alongside you- it is so domestic, so soft, so clean (despite the grime of the Fissures, the thickness of the air, the moaning of the people crowding the sides of the streets). This life is so unlike anything you remember your parents having. 

You take the quick route into Jinx’s lair, the dog following happily, its pink tongue lolling. You should name it, you think as you step onto one of the propellers. 

After Silco had died, you had expected the place to fall into disrepair; you had thought the lights would stop twinkling, and the tinny music would stop playing, and the workstations would gather dust until finally the propellers snapped and fell, taking Jinx with them. And yes, that had started to happen. But then, Jinx had met the kid. Isha, you had called her. All of you, huddled around an old, matted baby names book one of you had found at a scrapyard, pointing out names to each other. Isha, the kid had pointed at, a huge, toothy grin splitting her round face. One who protects. You had closed the book then, knowing that it was perfect. Jinx had smiled at you over the newly baptized Isha’s head, and you had smiled right back, squeezing her hand in yours. You had tossed the book down, into the void below. 

Now, your home was transformed. Jinx’s creepy dolls were gone, replaced with different colourful toys and gadgets picked out or made by Isha. The walls were covered in crayon drawings of all kinds of things- dragons, flowers, the three of you in fields of green and blue and pink and orange. There was a tent set up in the corner, full of Isha’s belongings. It was where you all slept, huddled together like a litter of cats. You love the place. 

At first, you think they’re both out. You call out, and when no answer comes, you venture further in, dropping your bag by Jinx’s workbench. The Dog sniffs around, its tail wagging as it comes closer and closer to an odd lump covered in blankets. You grin to yourself, putting a hand on your hip, tapping your chin with the knuckles of the other. “Hmm,” you muse to yourself, purposefully ignoring the giggle coming from the blankets, “wowie, I wonder where Isha and Jinx could possibly be.” You go in the opposite direction, checking under the workbench, scratching your head. The Dog watches, its eyes saying Can’t you see them? They’re right here! You wink at it, and it sits, tilting its head. “They must have gone out,” you declare loudly as the giggles intensify. “Guess I have this whole place to myself! Finally, I am rid of those stinky-“ 

As you are talking, you approach the mess of blankets. Before you are able to finish that last sentence, a small orange and blue bundle barrels into your legs, almost knocking you flat on your back. Isha launches herself into your arms, grinning her toothy grin as you spin her around. 

“Oh my goodness!” You cry, “where were you hiding? You really are a master sleuth!” Jinx, still have tangled in the blankets, barks a laugh. You hug Isha to your chest and raise an eyebrow at her, mouthing you couldn’t hide anywhere better? She flips you off, but she is smiling. 

She stands and joins you and Isha, her hand finding the small of your back, the other going to Isha’s shoulder. 

“I have a surprise,” you whisper to the child, “but don’t tell Jinx, mmkay?” 

Jinx tilts her head, still smiling. Isha nods solemnly. 

“I found waffles,” you breathe, looking at Jinx out of the corner of your eye. Isha gasps and puts her hands over her mouth. Through trial and error, you and Jinx had discovered that the little one seemed to live for waffles. You now went out of your way, as the only one with your face not plastered all over the place, to find the sweet treat. 

“Gee, I wonder what the surprise could be,” Jinx says, playing along. She follows as you carry Isha to your bag. You set the kid down, the Dog nuzzling into her hand. You rifle around for a moment, and finally pull out the waffles. Jinx lets out a loud gasp, and Isha turns to her, delighted, pleased with herself that she was able to keep this secret. 

“Waffles?” Jinx cries. Isha claps her hands together, startling the Dog. 

You all sit together in the tent, sharing the waffles off the same plate. Isha (who thinks she’s being slick) keeps sneaking pieces of her food to the Dog, who delightedly licks it off her hand. She giggles every time, earning an affectionate look from you and Jinx. 

Once you have finished the waffles, you push the plate away and lie down. Soon, Isha curls into a ball in the space between your knees and your stomach, settling her head on your legs. Jinx dims the lights, then joins you; the two of you become a protective cocoon around the now snoring Isha. The Dog squishes itself in between you and Isha, resting its head on the kid’s side and looking up at you adoringly. You brush a strand of hair from Jinx’s face and smile. She smiles right back. She’s been smiling so much recently. 

“This is perfect,” you whisper to her once you’re sure Isha is fast asleep. 

She smiles, but doesn’t answer. One of her hands rests on your waist, and her fingers trace soothing patterns there. 

“I thought,” she begins, then stops, frowning. Her other fingers tighten around your hand. “I thought that, with Silco gone, there was nothing left for me.” Her words hurt you; it stings somewhere deep in your stomach to hear that she is in any kind of pain. 

“But then… I met the kid,” she continues. “And then I found you.” 

You feel an overwhelming wave of affection for the girl lying in front of you then. A girl you had once known what feels like a very long time ago; a girl who had once had blue eyes and the same wide, toothy smile as Isha. A girl who had been part of your distant past, who was now back in your life. She was right; despite having known each other your whole lives, you have really only just found each other. 

“And- and I realised that maybe, maybe Silco wasn’t all I needed. Maybe…” she trails off, but she has said enough. You shuffle forwards (careful not to disturb Isha or the dog) so that your forehead is only centimetres from hers. She meets you halfway, pressing her forehead to yours; your noses brush, and you smile, reaching up to cup her face. 

“I love you, Blue,” you whisper. A name, who she has always been to you. Blue. Blue like the sky, like the sea. Blue like the warm, the fluttering bird nestled in your chest. 

For a moment, you think she is going to cry. But she only pulls you closer, and whispers the same words back to you, your name uttered like a prayer. 

You close your eyes and smile, and her breathing slows. 

As you fall asleep, you think: 

You have never felt this at peace before. 

[soulofapatrick]

“Patience, love.” - Azriel x female reader

Summary: Azriel gets home from being away and has even more work to do before he can tend to you

Words: 3.2K

Warnings: Smut; cockwarming

Notes: Two Azriel stories in one day?!

Y/N's POV

I sit with Nesta and Cassian in the cozy living room of the House of Wind, the warm glow of the fire crackling in the hearth casting flickering shadows along the walls. Nesta’s sharp wit and Cassian’s booming laughter fill the space, their playful banter about training sessions and Illyrian wingspans enough to keep me entertained—for the most part.

But even as I smile along with them, my mind is elsewhere, thoughts drifting to him. To Azriel. It’s been days since I’ve seen him, his absence leaving a hollow ache in my chest. I’m just about to add something to Nesta’s argument when I feel it—soft at first, like the brush of a feather. Then, stronger. A pull. A familiar, soul-deep tug on the bond that links me to him, wrapping itself around my heart with a tender, insistent pulse. Azriel.

I sit up a little straighter, the change in me instantaneous. It's like a jolt of life surges through me, a spark that had been dulled in his absence now reigniting with full force. My heart skips a beat, joy swelling so suddenly inside me that I can’t stop the bright, eager smile that stretches across my face. The world seems to sharpen, colours brighter, sounds clearer, as if everything in the room has come into focus with that single, unmistakable tug. He’s home.

Cassian’s eyes catch mine, the knowing look in them unmistakable. He’s seen this before. I don’t even need to say it—he knows. He leans back, crossing his arms with a teasing smirk as if to say, Go on, then. Nesta pauses mid-sentence, her expression confused as she glances between us.

I can barely sit still, the urge to move, to find him, overwhelming. “I—” I stammer, already rising from my seat. “I need to go.” My voice is breathless, and I can feel the flush rising in my cheeks, the warmth of excitement spreading through my entire body.

Nesta arches a brow, clearly about to ask why I’m leaving so suddenly, but I’m too far gone, my mind entirely focused on the one person I need to see. “Sorry!” I call over my shoulder as I dash from the room, leaving the half-finished conversation behind. I can feel Nesta’s confusion lingering in the air, but it doesn’t matter—not when he’s home.

My feet pound against the floor as I rush down the hall, my heart thudding in sync with the bond’s steady pull. The corridors of the House blur around me as I pick up my pace, the excitement bubbling inside me, spilling over. Every step brings me closer to him—closer to Azriel.

I can almost feel his presence now, that comforting, grounding sensation that only he brings, and a desperate need blooms in my chest. I need to see him, feel his arms around me, the cool touch of his shadows curling around my skin. I can barely breathe with how badly I want him right now.

Rounding the corner, I nearly skid to a halt in front of our door, my breath coming fast, my fingers trembling as they close around the handle. Azriel’s home—the thought pounds through my veins, dizzying me with anticipation, and I push the door open, stepping into the room where I know he waits.

As I step into the room, my breath catches in my throat at the sight of him. Azriel is seated at his desk, the soft glow of the lamp casting warm light over the planes of his face, making him look almost ethereal. He looks up as the door clicks shut behind me, and the second our eyes meet, a soft smile tugs at his lips—those rare dimples appearing, the ones that never fail to send my heart racing.

His hazel eyes, a swirl of green and gold, brighten at the sight of me, that unreadable mask he so often wears slipping just enough for me to see the affection there. His dark hair, tousled from the day, falls slightly into his face, and he brushes it aside with a scarred hand. The elegant planes of his face are impossibly beautiful, his golden-brown skin glowing in the dim light. Broad shoulders and powerful muscles, shaped by centuries of Illyrian training, are framed by his massive wings, their black membranes stretching behind him. He looks like a warrior, a king—yet, in this moment, he is simply mine.

Azriel shuffles his chair back without a word, the soft sound of the wood scraping the floor echoing in the silence between us. His eyes never leave mine, and with that same gentle smile, he opens his arms slightly in invitation. It’s all I need. I cross the room in a few quick strides, my body practically vibrating with the need to feel him, to touch him after so many days apart.

Without hesitation, I straddle his lap, feeling his strong thighs beneath me, his scarred hands immediately gripping my hips to steady me as I settle against him. I giggle, breathless, and his smile widens, a soft laugh escaping his lips—a sound I rarely hear, but one that fills me with warmth. His fingers dig into my hips just enough to keep me from falling off the chair, and I feel the tension drain from my body the moment his warmth seeps into me.

"Careful," he murmurs, his voice low and smooth, his breath fanning across my skin. And then, he pulls me closer, drawing me into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around me as if he never wants to let go. He buries his face in the crook of my neck, breathing me in, his nose brushing against my skin as his wings curl slightly inward, forming a protective cocoon around us.

I melt into him, my hands sliding up his strong shoulders and into his hair as I cling to him. For a moment, we stay like this—wrapped in each other, feeling the bond between us hum with contentment, with home. But then, his lips move against my neck, the faintest brush of his mouth against my skin, and my breath hitches. Slowly, he lifts his head, his eyes darkened with something deeper now, and before I can say a word, he kisses me.

The moment our lips meet, everything else fades away. His kiss is soft at first, gentle, like he’s savouring the taste of me after being apart for so long. I can taste the faint hint of mint on his lips, feel the warmth of him seeping into me, the smooth press of his lips against mine as they move slowly, sweetly. His hands slide up my back, pulling me impossibly closer, and I can feel the steady beat of his heart beneath my chest, grounding me in this moment.

But the kiss shifts. Slowly at first, then with a growing urgency. The bond between us tightens, a sharp pull, and suddenly, I’m not just kissing him—I’m devouring him. I grip his hair tighter, my nails scraping lightly against his scalp as I deepen the kiss, feeling his responding growl vibrate through my chest. Azriel’s hands tighten their grip on my hips, pulling me flush against him, and I feel the heat of him, the strength of his body beneath me. My heart races, and all the want and need I’ve been holding back during his absence surges forward in a tidal wave of longing.

His tongue brushes against mine, and the taste of him—so familiar, so intoxicating—makes me dizzy. The kiss becomes desperate, consuming, the bond between us sparking like wildfire, reigniting that primal pull I feel whenever I’m near him. I need him now. The warmth in my chest turns into a burning ache, and my hands slip down to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as I press myself even closer, as though I can’t get enough of him.

He growls softly against my lips, his wings flaring behind him as the bond crackles between us, both of us teetering on the edge of control. Azriel breaks the kiss just long enough to meet my gaze, his hazel eyes now dark with desire. His voice is rough when he speaks, barely a whisper. “I missed you.”

Before I can respond, his lips crash into mine again, harder this time, the kiss filled with all the pent-up need, the longing, the hunger. The bond pulses, wild and insistent, and I can feel the desire coil low in my belly, a deep, aching need that only he can fill. I need him now—no, I need him now, the mating bond pulling us both into a frenzy of want, of overwhelming, all-consuming need.

Without a word, one hand finds my panties, fingers finding their way to my already wet core, a proud smirk gracing that beautiful face, “All for me?” 

I’m nodding almost so hard I’m sure I’ll get whiplash, an ache deep inside of me needing Azriel now.  My hips jerk down, trying to get him to sleep one into my aching heat but he clicks his tongue softly, his scarred fingers exploring, tracing a line from my extract up to my clit, spreading my ever-growing arousal. He moves a hand up to my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze when he draws a tight circle over my clit, watching the way my breath catching in my throat and my brain seems to turn to mush. 

Azriel. Need. Need now. Azriel. Az-

Before I can finish the thought, his voice cuts through the haze of desire clouding my mind, sharp and teasing, yet so achingly calm. “Now now, I still have work to do before we can play.”

His words snap like a whip, jerking me out of the intoxicating fog of want, and I freeze, the fire in my veins suddenly roaring hotter, fiercer. I pull back just enough to meet his eyes, my breath ragged and shallow, my pulse thundering in my ears. He’s smiling—smirking—as if he doesn’t feel the same sharp, clawing need that’s twisting inside me.

I can feel the heat pooling low in my belly, my skin buzzing, a desperate ache between my thighs that makes it hard to think, hard to breathe. The bond pulses violently with my desire, a tidal wave of need that crashes into him, and I know—I know—he can feel it. The raw hunger, the gnawing need to be closer, to tear down the walls of restraint he’s so carefully built between us. But his words hang in the air, like cold water dousing the inferno inside me.

I bare my teeth, frustration bubbling over as a low growl rumbles from my chest. Anguish grips me, a burning, agonising frustration that has me trembling in his lap. I can’t stand it—the thought of being denied him, even for a moment longer. My hands tighten their grip on his shoulders, fingers digging into the hard muscle beneath his shirt as I press myself closer, my body desperate for the touch of his skin, the feel of him inside me.

“Azriel,” I hiss, the plea tangled with raw need, my voice almost unrecognisable. “I can’t—” I can’t finish the sentence, too overwhelmed, too consumed by the sharp, aching pull of the bond, the primal need coursing through me like a live wire. My entire body is screaming for him, and the restraint he’s showing, the patience in his voice, only fans the flames of my frustration.

But he just chuckles. That low, rumbling sound of amusement spilling from his lips, as if my need, my desperation, is nothing more than a game to him. It ignites something in me, the flicker of anger sharpening my need into something almost unbearable. His eyes—those beautiful hazel eyes, darkened with lust—gleam with equal want, with the same hunger I feel. But beneath it, there’s control. A maddening, ironclad self-restraint that makes his jaw click as he holds back

His hands go back to my hips, resting firmly on them, his grip tightening just enough that I can feel the tension coiling in his muscles, the barely-contained desire pulsing through him. His wings twitch behind him, his body taut with the effort to hold himself in check. I can see it—the way his eyes darken with every breath I take, the way his gaze drops to my lips, lingering there as though he’s seconds away from devouring me.

He wants this. He wants me, just as badly, just as fiercely—but he’s holding back, holding himself at bay with that damnable, infuriating control. His teeth grind together, his jaw clenching as he restrains the need that’s clearly mirrored in my own. The way his hands tighten on my hips, the way his wings flex—it all tells me he’s fighting against the same pull, the same hunger.

“Azriel,” I growl again, my voice rough and edged with desperation. I lean in, pressing my lips to his ear, my breath hot against his skin. “You’re killing me.”

He chuckles again, but it’s strained now, his control wavering for just a heartbeat. His voice is rougher this time, the tension evident as he murmurs, “Patience, love.”

But patience is the last thing I have. I can feel the bond vibrating between us, the wild, untamed magic of it pulling us both into the whirlwind of lust and need. It’s a cruel thing, to feel the burning want in every fibre of my being and know he’s holding himself back from giving in, from letting go. And it’s driving me mad.

His eyes flicker with something dark and dangerous as he watches the frustration in my gaze, the primal need that has me trembling in his lap. His jaw ticks again, that battle for control raging within him, and I can see it—the moment he almost breaks, the moment the restraint frays and the want claws its way to the surface.

And gods, I want him to break. 

“Stand up.” He suddenly demands and I find myself doing so, watching, practically drooling as he sheds some of his armour. My thighs clenching together as his hands move to his belt, unbuckling it, fingers pulling the zipper of his pants down and I’m swallowing hard at the tent. 

How big he is never fails to make me worry that he won’t fit me despite us being made for each other. Azriel’s glancing up at me as he frees himself, stroking a hand up and down his weeping length and I can’t decide what I want in me more. Those deft fingers or his throbbing dick, both making me almost fall to my knees in front of him from wanting something. Anything.

“Sit.” Azriel’s voice is choked and rough as he reaches forwards and grips my hips, helping me straddle his waist again. My thighs feel shaky already as he lines himself up for me to sink down easily, our bodies molding to each others like they had never been apart before.I go to raise myself up, desperate to move, to ease the overwhelming tension pulsing through my body, but Azriel’s low, deep growl reverberates through his chest, rumbling against my skin. His scarred hands tighten their grip on my hips, stilling me with a firm, unyielding hold. “Patience, love,” he murmurs, his voice a silken warning, his restraint absolute.

“Az—” I begin, but his name falls short, caught in my throat, the word turning into a helpless sigh.

Oh, angel. This man is going to be the fucking death of me.

I know I make a muffled sound of anguish, my lips pressing against his shoulder, my body trembling from how close I am to what I so desperately need. But he won’t let me move. He won’t. Despite being buried inside me, to the absolute hilt, filling me fuller than I ever thought possible, he keeps me still, locked in place, holding back the release we both crave.

My nails dig into the hard muscles of his shoulders, almost painfully, as I fight the primal instinct to rock my hips, to seek that friction I so desperately need. But Azriel—damn him—keeps me pinned against him, his grip firm, unyielding. Every muscle in my body is taut with the tension of it, the ache between my legs a sharp, throbbing pulse that borders on torture.

I burrow my face into the crook of his neck, desperate for some form of release, and without thinking, I bite down on the soft skin there—almost too hard. His breath hitches, sharp and sudden, his body going rigid beneath me for a moment, and I feel a dark sense of satisfaction knowing I got a reaction out of him. His jaw clenches, the want flaring hot in his eyes, but he doesn’t give in.

Instead, his hand leaves my hip, moving slowly, deliberately, to card through my hair. His fingers tangle in the strands, a soft, rhythmic motion that sends an unexpected wave of calm washing over me. I hadn’t realised how badly I needed that gentle touch in the midst of all this aching, burning need. His thumb brushes the side of my temple, and despite the insistent pulse between my thighs, the raw desire clawing at my every nerve, I feel a strange, soothing warmth spread through me.

His hand strokes through my hair again, and again. It’s maddening, the way he can have me teetering on the edge of ecstasy and still manage to lull me into this state of almost… blissful surrender. As if his touch alone could make me forget the ache in my body, the way he’s buried so deep inside me yet keeping me utterly still, trapped in this agonising limbo.

I bite him again, though softer this time, trying to fight the pull of drowsiness creeping up on me. But Azriel’s hand continues to pet my hair, his voice a low murmur of comfort I can barely make out over the sound of my own ragged breaths. Somehow, impossibly, the gentle motion is lulling me, sending me into a state of slumber despite the sharp ache between my legs, the unfulfilled need twisting deep inside me.

I don’t want to sleep. I don’t want to drift away. But I can feel my body surrendering, my eyelids growing heavier with every soft stroke of his fingers. It’s as if my exhaustion is finally catching up with me, and though the desperation still burns hot in my veins, I know he won’t leave me like this for long.

Azriel’s hand stills for a moment, his lips brushing against the crown of my head as he whispers, “Rest, love. I’ll wake you when I’m ready.”

When he’s ready. The thought should frustrate me, should make me want to push away, to demand more—but there’s something in the way he says it. A promise. And I know—I know—that when he’s ready, he’ll give me everything. Everything we both need.

So I let myself drift, trusting him to wake me when the time comes, trusting him to fulfill that promise. The ache is still there, pulsing between my thighs, but for now… for now, I let the exhaustion win.

ACOTAR Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 12th Oct 2024

[silverb0wties]

Lemonade - Part 2

Lemonade || leah williamson x alessia russo x child!reader

Summary: When something bad happens to your Mummy and Daddy, you end up living with your Aunty Lessi and Aunty Leah.  But is there room for you considering they have a new baby on the way?

Chapter Summary: Your first few days in your new home.

Warnings: reliving of traumatic events, mentions of death, pregnancy

a/n: Will make more sense if you read Part 1 first.

Thank you to everyone for the warm welcome back. I really, really appreciate it 🫶

PART 2

You couldn’t really believe how different your room looked now.  Your Aunties had gone a bit overboard and it had somehow transformed from a very plain and adult looking room, to a soft and colourful squishy bedroom.  You now had a cozy single bed with a purple duvet cover and lots of new stuffies.  You had a bookshelf that was already half filled with books and a desk with drawers filled with all different coloured papers and various drawing supplies.  Your wardrobe was filled with all sorts of new clothes, including brand new school uniforms and a new backpack.  There’s a big fluffy rug on the floor and a small nightlight shaped like a bunny on your bedside table. 

Beside the bunny nightlight there was a picture frame with a photo of you, your Mummy and your Daddy in it.

It made you feel a bit sad, but you still don’t want to cry.  You hadn’t cried since they died.

You didn’t cry when you found out.  You didn’t cry at their funeral.  You didn’t cry when your Nana took you to see what was left of your home.  You just felt an overwhelming sense of nothing about it all.  You didn’t know how else to explain it.

You did however still feel anxious and trembly and on edge about your new living situation.  You of course knew that Aunty Lessi and Leah would never do anything on purpose to hurt you, but you didn’t want to do anything to upset them or make them angry.  You wanted to be good.  You needed to be good.    

So, as you lay tucked into your squishy new bed, you tried your best to just fall asleep.  You’d wanted to read a book like you usually did before bed, but your nightlight wasn’t bright enough.  So once Aunty Lessi had turned the big light off, you had been left to just toss and turn.  You’d tried counting sheep.  Well, you’d tried counting bunnies actually, but that didn’t help.  Then you tried listing off all the different breeds of bunnies that you could think of, and then you tried to list off all the books you had read and at some point you finally, finally drifted off to sleep.

The next morning it’s your birthday and you’re sitting at the kitchen table with your Mummy and Daddy as they sing happy birthday to you.  There are some presents beside you and a big card with a number 8 and a bunny on it.  You make a wish and go to blow your candles out, but instead of blowing them out, you take a birthday candle off your cake and flick it onto the floor.  The whole house erupts in flames as you walk out the front door, not even stopping to look back as you hear your Mummy and Daddy’s scream.

Suddenly you wake up, gasping for air and covered in sweat.  Your sheets are all tangled around you, and you feel like you’re being strangled.  You leap out of the bed, desperate to escape the location of your nightmare.  You just wanted to escape to somewhere far, far away.  Anywhere would do.  Anywhere but the place where your head was currently.

So, you escape the best way you know how.  Looking around the room, you figure out what supplies you’ll need to gather: a sheet, a torch of some kind, Arthur (of course) and a book.  Once gathered, you sat on the big fluffy rug and pulled the sheet over your head before cracking the new book open and diving into whatever world awaits you.  The relief is instant. 

You’re not too sure how long it is before you hear a few footsteps followed by your bedroom door creaking open gently.

“Bunny, what are you doing up sweetie?”

You panic.  You’d been caught by your Aunty Leah.  Surely you were going to get in all sorts of trouble for being up this late when you should have been in bed asleep.

You quickly turn off the makeshift torch (you’d discovered some kind of bouncy ball that lit up when you hit it and was just bright enough) and hurried to push the sheet and book away, before diving back into your bed and getting under the covers. 

“S-sorry Aunty Leah.  I’m really sorry…”

Your voice was trembling.  In fact, your whole body was trembling.

Bad. Bad. Bad.

“Hey, hey… you have nothing to apologise for sweetheart.”  Your Aunty Leah walked over towards your bed.  “Is it okay if I sit with you for a bit?”

You nodded, unsure where this conversation was going.  She sat down on the side of bed, one hand on her big baby belly, the other reaching forward to gently stroke your cheek.

It felt really nice.  You very much wanted one of her hugs right about now.

“Sorry for waking y-you up, Aunty Leah.  I promise I didn’t mean to.  I’ll try to be more quiet in the future.”

“Oh Bun, you didn’t wake me up.  This one did” she poked at her belly and chuckled.  “They’re currently doing star jumps on my bladder and making me need the loo every 10 minutes.  I just thought I’d check on you while I was up.”

A small part of you relaxed knowing you hadn’t woken her up, but you were still waiting for her to punish you for being up past your bedtime.  Not that you really knew what your bedtime was now.  It used to be 8 o’clock, but you were allowed to read in bed with your reading lamp for a little while after that.  Surely it was way, way past 8 o’clock now though.

“Were you having trouble sleeping?” she asked.

“Kind of…”

“Did you have a scary dream?”

You gulped.  That wasn’t exactly how you would describe it, but you also didn’t have any better words to use, so instead you just nodded.

“Oh sweetie, I’m sorry.  You can always come find your Aunty Lessi or I if you have a bad dream or you’re having trouble sleeping.  We’re always happy to give you snuggles in our bed.”

You just nod, afraid to tell her that you couldn’t climb into her and Aunty Lessi’s bed.  Bad things happen when you sleep in beds that aren’t yours.  You would never tell your Aunties, but you had slept on the floor the two nights before your brand-new bed had arrived, too scared to sleep in the big, adult bed in case something bad happened again.

“I’m happy to see you reading the books we picked out though.  We weren’t too sure what you had and hadn’t read, so we just tried to get you your own little library going…”

All of a sudden, the most intense wave of panic hit you, followed by a terrifying realisation.  For the first time since your parents died, you started to cry.  And it wasn’t the gentle, weepy kind of cry.  It was the big, jagged breaths and snotty nose tears streaming down your face kind of cry.

“Oh my goodness… I’m- I’m going to get in so much trouble! They’ll never let me back there again.  I’ll have to find some way to make all the money to pay them back.  It’s- it’s going to take me years.  I- I- I’ll never-”

“Woah, woah… deep breaths, deep breaths.  Copy me, in through your nose, out through your mouth.”

You copied your Aunty Leah and your breathing slowly started to settle down, your panic subsiding a little, but your tears continued to fall.

“That’s it. Well done, Bunny.  Can you tell me what made you so upset just now?” she asked.

“All of my library books were in my bedroom and… and I must have had at least 15 or 16 of them.  And Nana said nothing from my room made it through the fire and Mummy always said if I didn’t treat the library books good or if I lost one that I would have to save up all my pocket money to replace it.  Because if the books get lost or broken then no-one else can borrow them.”

You’re getting worked up again, your voice beginning to rise. 

“But I don’t have any pocket money, coz it was all in my bunny bank, and that would have gone in the fire too and it’s going to take me forever to save up enough to replace 16 books and the librarians will be so mad at me.  They’ll probably never let me back in the library or any library ever again!”

It was the most you had spoken since you had moved in with your Aunties, and you could tell that your Aunty Leah was a bit shocked at your outburst.  Suddenly Aunty Lessi appeared at your door in her pyjamas.  You must have woken her up now too.

Hopeless. Hopeless. Hopeless.

“I’m sorry for being so loud, I shouldn’t have shouted. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

At some point, you’re not really sure when, you’d buried your face into the fur of Arthur’s belly, rubbing the softness across your skin in an effort to calm yourself down.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

The words just kept tumbling out of your mouth, losing all sense and meaning.  You just kept saying them over and over, feeling like both them and the soft fur of your beloved Arthur were the only things keeping you tethered to the earth right now.

But then you were being lifted out of your bed sheets and being pulled into a tight embrace.  You assumed it was your Aunty Lessi.  There was no baby belly and it smelled like Aunty Lessi.  She wore the same perfume as your Mummy did.  You clung to her with all your strength, even though you were still afraid that she was angry at you for waking her up.  She stroked your hair and ran her fingers gently up and down your back as she walked around the room with you in her arms, rocking you slightly.  You felt like a baby, but you didn’t care.  You knew you were a big girl who could and would look after herself, but just for this moment, this one moment, you just wanted to be little again.  You just wanted to be held and comforted and cuddled and loved.

You just wanted your Mummy and Daddy.

And just as quickly as the wave of panic and outburst of tears hit you, the balloon of emotions grew too big, and popped.  Once again, you felt nothing. 

Your tears dried, your breathing settled and your tight grip on your Aunty loosened until she placed you gently back down in your bed.  Your Aunty Leah brushed your hair back from your face, tucking it behind your ear and cupping your cheek.  She looked at you with what seemed to be a mixture of concern and confusion, as if she couldn’t quite figure out how you’d gone so quickly from a shaking, crying little baby back to your previous state of nothingness.  You couldn’t figure it out either, it’s just how it was.

“Bunny, I don’t want you worry about those library books for a single second.  We will talk to the librarians and if there are any fees that need to be paid, Aunty Lessi and I will make sure they are taken care of.  The library isn’t going to stop you from coming to visit because something really, really awful has happened to you.  We will make sure you get to go back and pick out plenty of new books to read, okay?  We will always make sure you have plenty of books to read.  We promise.”

--

The next day when your Aunty Lessi went off to training, Aunty Leah took you down to the library.

She had asked you if you wanted to talk to the librarian or if you wanted her to do it for you.  Whilst everything inside of you screamed to let her do the talking, you were a big girl, and it was your fault the books got destroyed, so you had to do this yourself.  So, you walked up to the counter and with trembling hands pressed the little silver bell on the bench and waited patiently for a librarian to come help you.

A kind looking lady with fuzzy black hair and big brown eyes approached the desk and gazed down toward you.  “And how can I help you today, little lady?”

With a deep breath and a tight squeeze of your beloved Arthur, you began to explain.

“My house burned down.  I had borrowed lots and lots of books because I love to read but they all got burned in the fire so I can’t return them.  So I-I-I know I need to pay loads of money to replace them, but I need to know how much so I can start saving…”

The lady looked from you, up towards your Aunty Leah stood just behind you, who had what you could only describe as a sad smile on her face as she nodded at the librarian.

“Well, it sounds to me like the only thing that needs replacing here is your library card.  I’m assuming you lost that in the fire too darling?”

You hadn’t even considered your library card.  Were you going to have to pay for that as well?

“Oh yeah, I did.  So umm… how much will it all cost all together then, with the library card added on?”

Useless. Useless. Useless.

“Oh no sweetie, what I’m saying is that you don’t have to pay for anything.  We’ll just make sure we get you set up with a replacement library card so that you can keep borrowing from the library and keep on reading!”

You were shocked.  You were certain that the fee was going to be huge.  Absolutely massive.  And even though you knew your Aunties had said they’d pay for it, you’d promised yourself you would save up and pay them back every last pound.

“Really?”

“Absolutely!  Here, you just need pick out which design you would like on your new library card, and I’ll just grab a few details off your Mum here and-”

“She’s my Aunty.  My Mummy died in the fire.  So did my Daddy.”

A tense silence filled the air as you went about looking over the laminated sheet of paper showing you the card design options.

“Can I get the one with the purple ladybirds, please?”

--

When your Aunty Lessi came home from training that afternoon, she had her kit bag on her shoulder and a couple of shopping bags in her hands.

“Hi my loves!”

You watched from your spot on the armchair as your Aunty Leah walked in from the kitchen and gave Aunty Lessi a kiss ‘hello’.  After their kiss, Aunty Lessi bent down to rub her hands over Aunty Leah’s tummy and pressed a few kisses there too.  They were exchanging soft words, but they were talking a bit too quietly and were standing a bit too far away for you to hear.

Your insides felt a weird jumbly feeling whenever you saw the pair of them kiss and cuddle, especially when Aunty Lessi would kiss or talk to Aunty Leah’s baby belly.  A part of you felt this really warm, light kind of feeling that made you want to sing and fly and twirl, but a bigger part of you felt this awful sinking feeling that made want to run and hide.  When they combined, they made you feel like you might be sick.

In an effort not to throw up all over your Aunties nice furniture, you leapt from the armchair and ran quietly towards the bathroom, making sure to close the door gently behind you.

Whilst you didn’t end up being sick, you found relief in the feeling of the cool bathroom tiles against your skin as you lay on the floor staring up at the ceiling.  You weren’t sure how long you’d been laying there, running your fingers across the smooth flooring, before you heard a soft knock at the door. 

“Bunny? Are you okay in there?  You’ve been in there a little while?”

Lifting your head off the cool tiles, you rummaged together a response for your Aunty Lessi.

“Uhh, yeah.  Just a bit of a yucky tummy.  I’m okay,” you replied.

“Alright sweetie, let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you Aunty Lessi.”

Your head hit the tiles again with a soft thud.

Reluctantly you got to your feet, straightened your clothes and looked at yourself in the mirror.  You made sure to flush the toilet to make your lie seem a little more realistic, and you washed your hands so that they would smell like your Aunties nice vanilla soap.

When you emerged from the bathroom and re-entered the living room, your Aunty Lessi got off the couch where she had been sitting and shuffled on her knees over to you.

“How are you feeling, Bun?”

She looked you over as one of her hands ran over your forehead, checking for a temperature, whilst the other ran soothingly up and down your back.

“I’m fine.  My tummy was just a bit upset, but it’s all good now.  I’m fine.” 

“Do you want some water or some toast or-”

“I’m fine, Aunty Lessi.”

“Okay, well you let us know if you need anything or you feel worse, alright?” she insisted.

You nodded, gently stepping out of her grasp as you shuffled back toward the armchair you had been sitting in, aiming to reunite with Arthur and your book.

There was a brief silence as you got yourself settled, but then Aunty Lessi returned to the room with the shopping bags from earlier.

“I got you a couple of things, Bunny.”

You looked up from your book, confused to find your Aunty Lessi now sitting in front of the coffee table.  She was patting the spot beside her, indicating to you she wanted you to join her on the rug.  You shuffled back down off the armchair, this time bringing Arthur with you, and tentatively sat in the spot she’d gestured at.

“Well, I know you’re not that big on sports or football, but I thought maybe you might want to come along to our game next weekend?  It’s totally up to you and completely okay if you don’t want to come along! Nana has already said she’ll come around and look after you if you’re not interested.  But just in case you do want to come, or if you ever want to later down the track, I got you some gear so you’ll fit right in and match everyone.”

She started pulling a bunch of red and white clothing out of a bright red shopping bag, each one with the same pictures and words printed somewhere on them.  The final item she pulled out was a mostly red shirt with the word ‘BUNNY’ in big white block writing across the back and the number 23 under it.

“I wasn’t too sure what to get on your jersey, but I figured as Aunty Leah isn’t really playing this season, we’d start with my number, 23, and maybe we can swap to 6 next season or on an away jersey or something.  Or you can pick your favourite number, or another player if you prefer…”

Aunty Leah laughed loudly beside you at the last remark.

“The only rule is that you’re not allowed to pick McCabe’s number, because we will never hear the end of that, okay?” she told you.

You nodded, not quite understanding what she meant, but filing that information away for later.  It seemed important. 

As you surveyed the sea of red and white clothing, you felt a strong sense of obligation to attend the game.  You knew that football was very, very important to your Aunties and they spent a lot of their time playing the sport.  And whilst you only very vaguely understood the rules (kick the ball into the back of the big net thing), you thought maybe with your brand-new library card you might be able to borrow a few books on football and learn about it some more.  You loved to learn, and perhaps this could be an opportunity to learn about something completely new.

“Can Arthur come to the game too?”

You watched as both your Aunties eyes lit up with excitement as they both shouted “Of course!”

“Okay, we will come then.”

“Are you sure, Bun?  You don’t have to just because Aunty Lessi got you some gear,” your Aunty Leah was sitting on the very edge of the couch now, her hand reaching out towards yours.

“I’m sure.  And it’s good coz I want to learn more about football because it means a lot to you” you replied as you took hold of her hand before turning to face Aunty Lessi  “To both of you.”

“Well, we will be honoured to have you come along with us.  And I’ll try and score a goal just for you” your Aunty Lessi said.

You like the sound of that.  That gave you the light kind of feeling that made you wanted to sing and fly and twirl, but without the other horrible sinking feeling that made you want to run and hide.

“What’s- what’s in the other bag?” you asked.

“Oh, thank you for reminding me, I nearly forgot with all the excitement about the game,” she reached over the coffee table and pulled a brown cardboard box out of the bag.  “It’s nothing fancy, but your Aunty Leah realised we didn’t get you a proper lamp for reading, so I popped into the shops and picked you up one.  Now you can read before bed or if you wake up throughout the n-”

You cut her off before she finished her sentence, launching yourself at her in the tightest hug you could muster.  You could have cried at the thoughtfulness.  In fact, you think you may have been crying, just a tiny little bit. 

“Thank you, Aunty Lessi.” 

You quickly pulled back and stumbled over to the couch where Aunty Leah was sitting, wrapping your arms around her the best you could with her big baby belly in the way.

“Thank you, Aunty Leah,” you whispered as her hands ran through your hair.

“No more using a bouncy ball as a torch, yeah?”

You couldn’t help but giggle at that.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

[mercurycft]

𝐀 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓 - 𝐋𝐖

## reader x leah williamson !! MINI FIC

hi pookies!! i’ve really been enjoying writing shorter and fluffier fics recently! somehow this ended up being a bit longer than intended! i hope you enjoy this! more to come. you’ll be able to find them under the “mini fics” section on my masterlist!! love always - RG x

2k words!

no warnings. pure in-love sweetness.

"so, what do you think, le?" you asked, eyes sparkling with excitement as you held up a newly-purchased jersey with the number six emblazoned on it.

leah looked up from her laptop, a smile playing on her lips. "it's perfect, lovie, just like everything else you pick." you replied with a sweet smile and a gentle eyeroll, folding the shirt neatly and pushing it to the side of the sofa which remains empty beside you.

the two of you sat in leah's living room, which as of a few days ago was now officially also yours too, cozied up beneath a blanket. you sat surrounded by boxes containing all of your beloingings, labelled by room and organised neatly into piles. re-runs of old shows playing on the tv ahead of you, casting flashes of colour across the room, overpowered by the lamp light from the corner of the room.

though you sat close together, leah had angled her body and screen away from you. tapping away on the keys with narrowed eyes of concentration. "what're you tip tapping away so furiously at?" you teased, lifting your head exageratedly to sneak a peak at her screen.

"hey, no peaking!" she quipped back, pulling the screen down to sheild it. "good things come to those who wait, love." she spoke after a second, lifting her hand and brushing her knuckles against your cheek gently.

"fine," you huffed, tilting your head to kiss her hand softly before turning back to the screen in front of you; attempting to drown out the noise of her tapping with the serene sounds of gavin and stacey.

the football season was in full swing, and your weekends were usually spent cheering from the stands, so a saturday in together was a rare but valued gift. you spent the time relaxing, allowing yourself to potter around. leah, on the other hand, seemed consistently distracted. whether that be by training, or whatever it is she seemed to be doing on her laptop or phone. you paid it no mind, aware of leah's growing responsibility. unbeknownst to you, that evening, leah had announced to the team her plans for the coming days.

you woke on sunday to leah leaning over you, training kit on and hair slicked into a ponytail at the back of her head. "good morning, love. im off in a minute, call me when you get up okay?" through the stirring of your sleep you murmured a small response and lifted to kiss her gently, before waving her out of the room.

it was past nine when you finally woke up fully. leah long gone and already at training as you made your way around the house carefree. after a swift call to leah, a lazy breakfast and a hot shower - you stumbled into the kitchen; towel still in hand and scrunching the last of the water out of your hair.

the sun shone through the kitchen windows, casting a warm glow on the gleaming counters. it was quiet without leah's usual 'morning country session' as you called it, and the sound of her soft singing echoeing through the hall. you grabbed a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table, scrolling through your phone.

your thumb froze mid-swipe when you saw a message from leah pop to the top of your screen. "hey, the girls keep bothering me about seeing you. wear your new jersey. love you x" you stifled a laugh at the thought of beth forcing leah to type and send the message, shaking your head softly and typing small reply.

you took your time getting dressed, slipping on the jersey adorned with leah's number six with a sense of pride. wearing it felt like a silent declaration of your support and love for her. as you made your way to the living room, the sound of the doorbell echoed through the house.

your face screwed together with confusion, taking a second to swipe your phone out of the back pocket of your jeans to check the time. half ten. "can't be leah then," you thought aloud as you made your way to the front door, you swung it open to reveal beth. stood in her kit and holding two take-away cups of coffee in her hands.

"good morning, my favourite wag." she spoke cheerfully, moving into the open space you had created by opening the door further to let her in. you shared a small hug as she came in, laughing at her comment.

"you know i hate when you guys call me that," you laughed, but shook it off, taking one of the cups from her as she thrusted them towards you. "you're the best, but can i ask what you're doing here and not at training?" you shut the door behind her as she advanced further into the house.

"i have a late start and leah said to come and get you because-"

"she took the car," you both said in unison, breaking into a small shared laugh over leah's predictability.

"give me two minutes and ill be ready to go, just have to go put on my jewellery."

you retreated back into the bedroom, as you reached for your necklace, the doorbell rang again. you huffed quietly to yourself, confused on who else could possibly be at the door.

"i got it," beth called from downstairs, opening the door.

"what was it?" you asked as you made it down the stairs, clasping the necklace around your neck and shaking your hair onto your back.

"just a parcel," she said shrugging, placing it on the kitchen counter and turning back to you. "ready?"

you nodded, grabbing your keys and checking for your phone one last time before flicking off the lights and locking the door behind you.

the car ride was quick, and you and beth chatted the whole way. once you arrived at the grounds, beth led you around to the side entrance, away from the usual doors at the front. "whats going on?" you questioned with a quizzical look, "leah said to bring you here." she replied with a seemingly unbothered shrug.

you followed her down the corridor and into the changing room, which was unusually quiet and empty. beth stopped you just before the double doors, forcing you to turn around and face her one last time. she smiled at you, with nothing over than love with a small hint excitement. "where is everyone? you lot are stressing me out." you laughed, attempting to break the confusing silence.

"they're all outside, probably running circles around your mrs." she teased, eyes flicked across your features and hair, then down to the jersey. you watch as a smile spreads across her features and she reaches for your phone out of your hands.

"you're scaring me, i dont want to go out there alone if everyone is out there!" you whined like an anxiety ridden child, taking a deep breath as beth pushed your hair off your shoulders and looked directly into your eyes.

"you'll be fine. trust me, go out there."

beth nudged you gently towards the doors, the sound of your heartbeat growing louder in your ears. you took a deep breath and stepped out onto the field, squinting against the sudden burst of light. once they had focused to the brightness, your eyes skimmed across the pitch searching for leah.

your gaze finally fell into the middle of the pitch where players and staff seemed to crowd around someone down. your face fell into concern when you realised leah wasn't standing with them, and instead they were stood around her.

"leah?" you called, eyes wide as you sped up to reach the group. the sound of your voice brought a hush over the crowd, who all shared the same concerned look as they concealed leah from your view. you tried to calm your breathing as you made your way closer, mind reeling with the worst possible scenarios of why leah is on the floor. "leah?" you called again, now close enough to reach for some of the girls to move them aside. as your hand extended to push past katie, the girls in front of you parted - finally giving you a full view of leah.

however, it was not the view you expected. you had expected to see her on the floor, injured and writhing in pain. instead, what you found had you stopped dead in your tracks.

leah, knelt on the grass, her eyes glued to yours. her hand outstretched, a small velvet box balanced on her palm and clasped between her fingers. you couldn't read her expression, and couldn't bring yourself to say anything. the world around you seemed to fade into the background as you stared at her, your eyes wide.

you watched as she took a deep breath and began. "i have loved you from the moment we met on this very pitch, during that first interview all those years ago. i have loved you everyday since and will continue to love you everyday for the rest of my life. since that first day, you have changed my life in ways i will never be able to explain to you. i knew from the first time you laughed at one of my stupid media trained jokes that i would marry you. so, im down on one knee, ready to love you forever. will you marry me?" leah's voice was shaky and hopeful, her eyes never leaving yours.

you felt like the air had been knocked from your lungs. your hand flew to your mouth to cover the shock that washed over your features. the crowd around you was silent, their eyes flicking between leah and you, their expressions a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation.

slowly, you stepped closer to her, the realization of what was happening settling into your heart. "are you serious?" you whispered, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

"as serious as i've ever been," she replied with a hopeful smile.

you dropped down to your knees in front of her, wrapping your arms around her and pressing a swift kiss to her lips. "yes," you choked out, the word barely audible but clear enough for the entire field to hear. the crowd erupted into cheers, their claps and whistles piercing the quiet air like a gunshot.

leah's face broke into a grin so wide it could've split her face in two as she watched the tears fall down yours. she brought the box closer to you, revealing the ring nestled inside. it was simple, a silver band with a small diamond in the center - but to you, it was the most beautiful thing you had ever laid eyes on.

you took the box from her, watching as she lifted the ring out and slipped it onto your finger. it was a perfect fit, as if it had been made just for you. "yes," you repeated, louder this time so that everyone could hear the conviction in your voice. "i'll marry you, leah."

the crowd around you grew closer as the teammates you had come to know so well rushed in to embrace you both. the warmth of their arms around you, the sound of their cheers in your ears. they wrapped around the both of you, all smiles and laughter.

as the congratulations died down, you took a moment to swat her shoulder with a stern look "i thought you were hurt!" you muttered, looking down at the ring sat perfectly on your hand, then looking back to leah who mirrored your wide smile. before you could continue back and fourth, the sound of renee's voice called everyone back to training.

"you two got something to celebrate," she said with a knowing smile, "but remember, we've got a game on tuesday." you both laughed, as well as the rest of the girls surrounding you as leah moved to give renee a quick hug. around you the team split back into their usual groups to continue with their session, but leah made her way back to you.

"mrs williamson. it suits you."

[whimsicaldoxy]

𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 - 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘

pairing: fred weasley x reader

summary: you and fred share a cozy evening at the burrow on new year’s eve, surrounded by the weasley family’s warmth and chaos.

notes: established relationship, pre-war, insinuated fem!reader, no use of y/n, fred loves pet names, fluff

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

The time was creeping closer and closer to midnight, and the evening air was filling the Burrow, the scent of smoked wood and Mrs Weasley’s famous treacle tart.

Fred was sat beside you on the patchwork sofa in the living room, his arm draped lazily over your shoulders. The pair of you were half-buried under a hand-knitted blanket, sharing a butterbeer.

“Go on, admit it,” Fred said, leaning closer as his freckled face glowed in the firelight. “You’re only dating me for my charm.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning back into the sofa. “Oh, absolutely. It’s definitely not for your constant, irritating smugness or the way you ruin a perfectly good evening by stealing all the treacle tart before I can even get a bite.”

Fred gasped dramatically, his hand flying to his chest. “Darling, you wound me! You know my heart belongs only to you.”

George, his brother, who perched on the arm of the couch like a smug cat, chimed in. “That and his stomach. Mum’s cooking ranks a close second.”

Fred ignored him. “You’re not denying it, though,” he said, his grin widening as he looked back at you. “See? Can’t even argue because you love me.”

“Love might be a strong word,” you said, lifting the mug to your lips, hiding your smirk behind the rim.

“Oi!” Fred started, his finger gripping the blanket in attempt to pull it. George gave him a sharp jab in the side. “Off you go, Freddie. Don’t embarrass yourself further.”

You yank at the blanket, pulling it fully over you as Fred bickered with his twin. “Speaking of embarrassing yourself,” you said, raising an eyebrow at Fred. “Are you going to ask what my New Year’s resolution is, or are you too scared to know?”

He perked up at that, his golden-brown eyes gleaming with curiosity. “All right. Let’s hear it. Let me guess—it’s to learn to tolerate my unparalleled wit?”

You leaned closer, the corner of your mouth quirking into a grin. “It’s to beat you at Exploding Snap this year. Every. Single. Time.”

Fred blinked once. Then twice. Then he threw his head back in a loud, delighted laugh before leaning forward. “Blimey, darling. That’s ambitious, even for you.”

“You’ll see,” you replied smugly, leaning in.

“Five minutes to midnight!” Mrs Weasley’s voice boomed from the kitchen. “Everyone grab your drinks and get outside for the fireworks! And George, if you light a single one before we’re ready, so help me—”

The whole family shuffled outside, you included, the cold winter air hitting you like a sudden shock after the warmth of the house. Snow crunched underfoot, white, soft and glittering under the light of the stars. The garden was a chaos of footprints and hastily trampled paths, leading to a makeshift firework display that George was already fussing over.

A stack of colourful rockets stood ready, haphazardly tied together in what could only be described as a precarious masterpiece.

As your head tilted to stare up at the stars overhead, Fred slipped his hand into yours, his fingers warm and rough against your own. He guided you towards the edge, his arm curling around your waist, pulling you to his side as the first firework shot into the air with a loud crack—it exploded in a burst of crimson and gold, lighting up the sky.

Fred leaned down, his voice soft in your ear. “You know, it doesn’t matter what resolutions you make this year.” His tone was so different from his usual teasing—gentle and sincere. “As long as you’re with me, that’s all I’ll ever need.”

The weight of his words settled in the air around you, and for a moment, you forgot about the cold or the impending war that loomed on the horizon. You turned to him, standing on your toes to press your lips to his. He tasted like butterbeer and laughter, his lips warm against yours despite the chill in the air.

Around you, the fireworks continued to burst in brilliant waves of colour—and when you finally pulled away, Fred was grinning again, his lopsided smile even more dazzling in the firework-lit night. “Next year,” he said, his tone edging back into a familiar playfulness, “I resolve to make you laugh at least twice as much. Shouldn’t be too hard—I’m brilliant, you know.”

“You’re something, alright,” you replied, shaking your head at him fondly. The words were laced with affection, and Fred clearly heard it, because he squeezed your hand tighter.

“Happy New Year, love,” he murmured, his voice low and steady.

“Happy New Year, Fred,” you replied, leaning into his warmth as another firework burst overhead, painting the night sky in silver and blue. For this one perfect moment, the world felt safe and whole, and the future could wait until tomorrow.

[fungateshortcakes]

Personal attention ASMR

Don't ask questions just run with it

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Summary: You use Logan as your ASMR model

Wordcount: 2.4k (this was supposed to be a drabble what happened)

Warnings/tags: none, english is not my first language, fluff, established relationship, reader is gender neutral but is described to wear acrylic nails, sharp or dull challenge, hair brushing, face tracing, nail tapping, face masks, implied that reader wifes Logan up in the future lol

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The cozy glow of a string of fairylights illuminated Logan as he sat in his armchair, a beer in hand, watching you fiddle with your - what did you call it? - ASMR setup? You struggled to get your camera into the right position on your tripod without knocking off the little hypersensitive microphones that extended from each side.

Logan sat there with an amused smile, but as his eyes wandered over the coffee table that was packed with various tools he couldn't name, facemasks that ran too pink and glittery for his liking- in that moment he thought, why the hell had he agreed to this? Your damned puppy eyes and sweet kisses, that's why.

"You're seriously gon' make me do this?" he asked you, standing up from his seat to stretch. "You agreed to it" you pouted before laughing. "Do I have to let you sign something next time?"

Logan rolled his eyes playfully at your words, shaking his head and lifting his hands dismissively "Nah, I'm kiddin'. I'll do it. But just cause it's you" he replied, helping you connect everything. You gave his rugged cheek a biiig kiss "You're the best boyfriend ever"

Logan chuckled and gave you back some sloppy, over the top kisses to your own cheeks until you were grossed out giggling. "I won't take the blame if your lil' fans don't like it though"

You shook your head. "I am sure they will love it. And you have nothing to worry about except being relaxed and looking pretty. I'll handle the rest" you teased him, smoothing out the thick neutral grey coloured blanket on your carpet in front of the couch, adding a matching pillow for Logan to rest his head on.

He shimmied into position on the ground so he looked directly into the camera hanging over his face. You made sure that his face was entirely in frame, fiddling with the contrast controls of the camera. The warm light from the fireplace contoured the left side of his face while the cold fairylights illuminated the right side of it, creating a interesting and aesthetical pleasing scene. This was gonna be great!

After everything was tuned to perfection, you knelt down over Logans head so you had all the access to his face that you needed. You had even gotten new acrylic nails for the occasion!

You rubbed your hands together "So, one of the most important rules of ASMR is no talking, only whispering. Okay? We want the ambience to be nice and peaceful" you explained excitedly to him. You knew that Logan knew what he was getting into - somewhat. The concept of ASMR wasn't too foreign to him. That comes with having a better half that does ASMR content for a living, but you still wanted to make sure.

Logan scoffed, snorting "Right. Peaceful. That's me"

You slapped his chest, shooting him a mocking glare in the process. "Shush now. I want to start" Logan blew a rasberry at you but quickly settled down after you switched on the camera for recording.

You showed your freshly manicured nails into the camera, tapping the crisp acrylic before slightly scraping them over Logans face "Welcome to another personal attention ASMR. My model for today is my beautiful boyfriend. He was kind enough to be of assistance" you whispered into the microphones, your voice soft and quiet.

Logan huffed at your words, only a small smile playing at his lips but he chose to not say anything and let you work. "We will be starting by tracing his face." you cooed gently, tapping the tips of your nails against his cheek with your left hand while your right hand mimicked the movements off-screen on a wooden board "Oh yeah, forgot to mention, he is a lumberjack, so he is more wood than man" you giggled into the mic, making Logans eyes roll at the corniness. But he couldn't deny that it felt nice.

You drew tingly patterns on his face, each sounding like scratching across crisp wood. You poked three dots under his eyes, drew an x on his forhead over and over again, traced over his frownlines and trailed your nail over his face in a continous line until you gently proded at his lips, making it sound like you knocked on them. He gave the tip of your nail a brief kiss, making you sigh out a smile into the mic. You tapped his face a few more times until you decided to switch up the trigger.

"Next, we will be playing a very popular little game" you spoke in a shushed tone, creating a bit of anticipation before you showed the camera two tools. One was a make-up brush, the other a kind of metal dermaroller with rotating spikes. You brought the tools to Logans head after you parted his hair to your liking "I'm going to touch your scalp with different textures. One is dull-" you started to explain, dragging the soft bristles of your brush over his head "-and the other one is going to be sharp like this" you ended, dragging the spiky roller across. "You feel the difference?" Logan nodded at your question, a low grumble sounding in the back of his throat.

"Good. I want you to tell me which one you feel, sharp or dull. Close your eyes for me, baby" you cooed quitely, humming as Logan did as he was told.

You angled his head a bit to have easier access, taking your time to part his hair neatly in a different location than before until you were ready to start. You stippled the brush against his head, waiting for an answer. "Dull" he whispered and for a second, you felt your chest tighten with joy. He was actually playing along and taking this seriously, it warmed your heart. When you said he was the best boyfriend, you meant it.

You switched the tool, drawing a line with the spike roller from the back all the way in front to his hairline, picking it up again and waiting for his reaction. "Sharp" he murmured and wow, his voice was very relaxing like this. You always found his voice soothing, but his deep whispers were another level. "Very good" you praised and a little proud smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. You decided to use the sharp roller again, letting it hit his skin only shortly before stopping. "Sharp" he replied, enjoying the way the tool made strong tingles errupt from the very top of his head all the way down his back. This was nice.

Your fingers raked through his hair, choosing another part of his head to part. You swiped the tip of your brush over him next, nodding as he whispered "Dull" to you in a hushed voice. You took your time to admire his face for a moment. It wasn’t tense nor taught, the usual frown line between his brows smoothed out and barely visible.

Another stipple of your brush "Dull", another turn of your roller "Sharp".

If you asked Logan, you could do this forever. He would prefer to be completely silent, though. And for you to only use the spiky tool.

To tease him a bit, you used both the brush and the dermaroller at the same time, softly giggling at the way his nose scrunched a bit in confusion. "Come again?" he whispered, a gruffness in his tone. You did, watching him lose faith in himself. As you repeated it the third time, he cracked open an eye and tried to keep his reaction as quiet as he could as to not mess up the video "That ain't fair, sugar" he said a little louder than intended, making you softly giggle into the microphone.

You put your stuff away, ready to move onto the next trigger. Your nails found his coarse beard, scratching along the thick mutton chops in circles while you explained what you were going to do next. "Now that we have messed up his hair quite a bit, I think it’s time for a bit of hair brushing" you whispered, cooing at the way Logan purred almost like a cat as you played with his beard. You kept that in mind for next time.

You sat back and got a neat brush, showing it off to the camera, tapping your nails against the plastic backside a little, before letting your fingers glide over the bristles slowly, softly whispering "bruushhh, bruushhh" over and over again.

When you started, Logan fought the urge to roll his eyes into the back of his head. Your slow strokes just hit the spot, tingles and shivers exploding on his head. If the little spike tool felt like heaven already, then this was absolute nirvana. Now this was something you could do for the rest of his life.

Your gentle whispers of brushing fell on deaf ears as Logan tried not to hum at the feeling of the bristles scratching over his scalp. You combed through his whole head of hair multiple times, changing out the brushes and combs from time to time to not make it boring for the viewers and to give Logan different sensations.

When you were done, you settled on scratching his scalp with your nails instead, both hands under his head, massaging in deep circles. "Oh wow" Logan couldn’t help but murmur, closing his eyes for a second to stop them from trying to roll back. You could practically see the shudder that went through him at that, his mouth slightly agape.

As you stopped to get your next pieces of equipment, Logans eyes fluttered open, darting around as if he had just randomly woken up in the middle of nowhere, completely disoriented. It was cute.

"Last but not least, I have some face masks prepared for him." you muttered, presenting the camera a glittery, foaming face mask, swirling a brush through the bowl it was in, the soft crackling of the bubbles being picked up by the mic.

"But first, we will lightly prep his skin. Close your eyes for me, love" you whispered to Logan who gladly let his eyes flutter shut. You used a clear face primer, putting it on his face in little droplets all over before moving to get your sparkly water globes. You turned the globes in your hand, a satisfying glug glug glug emitting from them, iridescent glitter swirling inside. You brought them together at the bottom ever so gently as to not make them break over Logans face, a sound you either loved or hated coming from them as they bounced off of each other quickly.

Then you let the round, bulbous sides glide over Logans face to spread the primer and work it into his skin. At first he slightly jumped from the sudden coldness, but it didn’t take long for him to ease into it as the bulbs warmed up.

You were swiping the smooth globes over his skin effortlessly, removing the puffiness from under his eyes, massaging his cheeks in circular motions and easing any kind of headache as you glid over his forhead and temples. He could really really get used to this.

Like with everything else, you ended this treatment far too soon for his liking. And if he didn't know any better, he would actually start to protest.

The next thing he knew, he felt something cold and gel-like being pressed to his under eyes. Nurishing eye patches - sparkling, probably. Then he heard you rub your hands together, before your palms landed on his cheeks. The foam on your hands crackled loudly at the contact, the bubbles bursting and popping on his skin. You massaged it in, cooeing and making sounds with your mouth. His head lolled a little, too relaxed and sleepy for his own good. But he wasn't about to fall asleep, nuh uh, he wouldn’t fall asleep because of some ASMR stuff.

By the time your hands were back on his scalp to let the foam mask really sink in before washing it off, he was gone. Out like a light

At first, you hadn't even noticed, mindlessly scratching and massaging his head thoroughly with your nails and admiring his relaxed face, thinking about how lucky you were to have him. You had boyfriends before that laughed in your face when you asked them to be part of a video. When they realised you weren't joking, they got mad and lashed out, telling you that not even over their dead body would they sit there like a dumbass and have you whispering weird bulshit in their ear. You were disappointed, a simple no would have done it. But they were angry like it was something deeply personal. Not Logan though, he was a sweetheart.

He acted like he didn't want to, that he was only doing this because you batted your eyelashes at him, but deep down you knew he liked doing these things for you, seeing you so happy and excited was enough. If he was truly against it, he wouldn’t be in this position right now.

You liked to think he was secretly actually enjoying this - imagine your face as you realised he had fallen dead asleep, softly snoring as you wiped the foam mask off his face ever so gently as to not wake him up. "He has fallen asleep, guys" you whispered into the mic, the giddy smile could be heard from your voice even though your face wasn’t visible. You couldn't believe it. Your big, beefy teddy bear of a boyfriend fell asleep because of a little pampering.

You cooed softly, rubbing the last oil treatment onto his skin, being extra careful and gentle with him. "If you liked this video, leave a like, consider following my channel and leave a comment if you want to see more boyfriend content" you said in a hushed voice, coddling the face of your sleeping boyfriend. "See you next time, lovelies!" you whispered, booping Logans nose before switching off the camera.

Your boyfriend continued to snooze even after that, laying there unbothered with a glowy face. And it that moment you knew, maybe it was time. Just maybe, a few videos later, you could welcome your fans to another ASMR video with your husband.

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This idea came to me so randomly, i hope you guys still like it. Let me know in the comments please and leave a like, reblog if you want <3 I love to see it🎀

[onlyhereforthestories]

Gift Guessing Games (Ingrid Engen x Reader)

Day 11. I really love Ingrid but shes so sweet I feel the cute ones like this are best suited for writing for her. So enjoy!

“Alright, let’s do this,” Ingrid declared, tugging her bobble hat snugly over her ears as she adjusted her scarf. The two of you stood at the entrance of the bustling shopping centre, a cold breeze whipping at your bodies that was the only positive about going inside. She turned to you, her expression a mix of determination and something a little more fun. “I need your help, but there’s a catch. Well not really a catch but you’ll get what I mean in a second.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious already. “Oh? What’s the catch? Is this some impossible mission?”

She smirked, leaning in slightly. “It’s for my secret Santa gift… but I’m not telling you who I got. You’ll have to guess.”

You laughed, shoving your hands into your coat pockets. “So, I’m helping you shop but I’m being left completely in the dark? That’s okay but you can’t blame me if we end up with something ridiculous.”

Ingrid grinned and grabbed your hand, tugging you inside where the warmth of the mall wrapped around you like a cozy blanket. Twinkling fairy lights adorned every storefront, garlands hung over doorways, and a giant Christmas tree stood proudly in the centre, its ornaments shimmering under the glow of the many little bulbs lighting up the tree. Holiday music drifted through the air, creating a welcome distraction from the many people who looked like they were panicking or just not liking the sheer amount of people around them.

“Alright, first question,” you said, as the two of you strolled into the first shop. “Are they someone who’s hard to shop for? Like do we actually have an impossible task anyway, even without me being in the dark.”

Ingrid shrugged, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. This was going to be a long shopping trip. “Depends on who’s shopping. I have faith in us.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not giving me much here, but okay. Let’s start with something practical but fun. A mug, maybe? Like one of these…” You grabbed a novelty mug from the shelf, reading it aloud. “‘Captain in Charge… of Coffee Breaks.’ It’s perfect if your person drinks coffee. Or if they are, I don’t know, a team captain?” Your guess was the subtlest you could come up with and you were pretty proud of yourself.

Ingrid snorted, the corners of her mouth twitching. “Not bad. But keep guessing.”

You watched her carefully, trying to catch any flicker of a reaction, but she gave nothing away. So not Alexia, one down god knows how many more to go. “Damn it okay,” you said, placing the mug back. “Next question. Are they a more serious person or are they a big goof?”

“Both,” Ingrid said immediately, moving toward a shelf of scented candles and giving one an experimental sniff. “They can be super focused, but they also have a good sense of humour.”

You tapped your chin thoughtfully as you followed her, a gesture that had Ingrid snickering under her breath at you. “Serious but funny. Hmm. What about someone who’s always playing music? Do they love gadgets?” You wandered over to a display of retro-style record players. “This is cute. It’s small, quirky, and perfect for someone who likes to mess around with genres and artists.”

Ingrid chuckled, giving the tiny record player a once-over. “That’s actually a good idea. I really like that as a gift, but nope. That won’t work for my Secret Santa.”

“Okay, now you’re just enjoying this,” you said, narrowing your eyes at her. You had a feeling she had a present in mind already but just wanted to make you come up with things and guesses for her teammates.

She grinned, unapologetic. “Maybe. Keep going.”

“Yes ma’am,” you said with an exaggerated sigh. “Do they like organizing things? Like are they the type to have their entire life planned out in a colour-coded spreadsheet?”

Ingrid laughed, shaking her head. “I think everyone on the team could use a little more organization, but that’s not a hint.”

You spotted a leather-bound planner with gold accents on a nearby display and held it up. “This is classy. Even if they’re not the organized type, it could be aspirational. Maybe push them to be a little more proactive in their organizational skills.”

Ingrid tilted her head, considering it. “You’re really good at this. But still no.”

You groaned, dramatically throwing your head back. “Ingrid! You’re killing me. At least tell me if they’re someone you’re close to.” You grabbed her hand as you strolled around the next shop.

Her smile softened, and she gave a little shrug, squeezing your hand slightly in the process. “I mean we’re all close. But yeah, this person’s special.”

You caught the flicker of affection in her voice and grinned. “Special, huh? So, we’re talking someone who looks up to you, maybe? Someone who thinks you’re the coolest person on the planet?” you made sure she could hear the teasing tone of your voice, she had given you a bit too big of a clue and you now knew who it was.

Ingrid gave you a sideways glance, her smile turning sheepish. “I’m not saying anything.”

You clapped your hands together. “It’s Jana, isn’t it? Oh, I’ve got this. Jewellery. Something simple but meaningful. Like… oh!” You pointed toward a display case filled with delicate silver bracelets, each engraved with a small charm bearing an inspirational word. “‘Fearless.’ That’s perfect. She’s fearless on the pitch, right? And it’s something she can wear every day.”

Ingrid’s silence was telling. She reached for the bracelet, her fingers brushing over the charm as a soft smile spread across her face. “Okay, okay. You win. It’s Jana. And this… babe this is perfect.”

You beamed, pleased with yourself. “I knew it. But for the record, I was onto you from the start.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes, but the warmth in her expression made your heart swell. “Sure you were.” She wrapped her hands around your neck and pulled you a little closer as she spoke. “And I’m sure you played along with my game just for me huh?”

You nodded your head enthusiastically before standing on your toes to press a gentle kiss to the woman’s lips. Letting your hand run into her back pocket where you pulled out her purse. “Time to pay!” Ingrid was quick to grab her purse back before you could even get out of her arms.

As the two of you headed to the checkout, Ingrid glanced over at you, her voice quieter now. “Thanks for helping me with this. I wanted it to be something meaningful, you know? Something that shows her how proud I am of her.”

You bumped her shoulder lightly. “You didn’t need my help for that. It’s obvious how much you care about her. This gift is just the cherry on top.”

With the gift brought, you and Ingrid headed for the outside. Ingrid pulled her scarf tihght around her neck again before she gripped your hand in hers. You made it all of 5 paces into the cool air before you broke the peaceful silence that had settled between you.

“Now,” you said with a grin, “let’s talk wrapping paper. Because you’re not just slapping this in a bag and calling it a day. We’re going all out.”

Ingrid laughed, the sound echoing warmly in the quiet street. “Bows and ribbons?”

“Obviously,” you replied. “It’s not Christmas without glitter.”

She squeezed your hand, her smile wide and full of gratitude. “Deal. But you’re in charge of the glitter.”

[callsigns-haze]

His Shadow: Chp 4

masterlist part 1 part 2 part 3

Azriel, secretly juggling his responsibilities and personal life, maintains a hidden relationship with YN, who works at a pleasure house in the Hewn City. She was his light, his love, his passion. Yet being his darkest secret is a hard role because life in the Hewn as a young female isn't the easiest as the two of you hold an even dark secret yet to be told...

Pairing: Azriel x reader

This series contains mature themes: Explicit depictions of violence, including physical and emotional. Themes of secrecy. Descriptions of difficult relationships, including strained familial and romantic dynamics. Mature sexual content. Themes of power, control, and manipulation within complex interpersonal relationships. Discussions of parenthood and the challenges associated with it, including postpartum experiences.

The morning sun filtered softly through the sheer curtains of YN’s mother’s modest living room. The pale light danced across the room, casting gentle patterns on the worn wooden floors and faded furniture. YN had spent the night on her mother’s small, but comfortable sofa, using a makeshift nest of blankets and pillows. She stirred slowly, the quiet stillness of the house a sharp contrast to the bustling atmosphere of the pleasure house.

Yawning and stretching, YN glanced around, her mind still wrapped in the haze of sleep. The night had been restful, but she couldn’t shake the nagging worry about Knox. Her mother had graciously offered to care for him while YN worked, but she had been missing him terribly. It was time to reunite with her son.

She carefully gathered her things, folding the blanket she had used and tidying up the small space as best as she could. Her mother, an woman with a warm, kind demeanour, was still asleep in her own bedroom. YN wanted to make sure everything was ready before she woke her.

With a soft, cautious step, YN made her way to the small nursery that had been set up in a corner of her mother’s apartment. The room was modest but cozy, decorated with pastel-coloured curtains and a few framed pictures of animals. In the crib at the centre of the room lay Knox, his tiny form barely visible beneath the soft, knitted blanket.

YN’s heart swelled as she approached the crib, her eyes softening at the sight of her sleeping son. Knox’s small chest rose and fell with each gentle breath, his little fingers curled into tiny fists. She reached down, carefully placing a hand on his back to wake him softly.

“Good morning, my little one,” YN murmured, her voice tender and loving.

Knox stirred, his eyelids fluttering open to reveal the curious, innocent gaze of a three-week-old baby. YN carefully lifted him from the crib, cradling him gently in her arms. His warmth and weight were a soothing comfort against her chest.

“Let’s get you ready to go home,” YN whispered, her voice full of affection. She carefully adjusted Knox’s blanket, making sure he was secure and comfortable.

Her mother had prepared a small bag with some essentials for Knox—diapers, a few changes of clothes, and a soft toy that YN had brought from home. YN picked up the bag, slinging it over her shoulder as she prepared to leave.

She made her way to the small kitchen, where she could hear the faint sounds of her mother beginning to stir. YN set the bag down on the counter and walked back to the nursery to say a quiet goodbye to her mother.

Her mother emerged, rubbing her eyes and offering a sleepy smile. “Good morning, dear. Are you heading out already?”

“Yes, just about,” YN said, her voice gentle. “Thank you so much for taking care of Knox. I really appreciate it.”

Her mother came over, reaching out to gently pat Knox’s head. “He’s a lovely little boy. I’ve enjoyed having him. Just be sure to get some rest when you can.”

YN nodded, her smile filled with gratitude. “I will. I just need to get him home and settled.”

As YN and her mother exchanged a final hug, YN carefully picked up Knox and adjusted him in her arms. With one last look around the apartment, she stepped out into the fresh morning air.

The city was slowly coming to life as she made her way back to her own apartment. The streets were quieter than usual, and the early morning light bathed everything in a soft, golden hue. YN’s heart ached with both joy and weariness as she walked, the familiar weight of Knox in her arms a constant reminder of the responsibilities and love she carried.

She reached her apartment building, a modest structure with a worn exterior that belied the cozy interior. She carefully navigated the stairs, her mind filled with thoughts of getting Knox settled and ready for the day ahead.

Entering her apartment, YN carefully placed Knox in the small crib she had set up in the corner of the living room. The space was small but welcoming, filled with the warmth of home and the love of a mother’s touch. She adjusted the blanket around him and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“Welcome home, Knox,” she whispered, her voice full of love and relief. “We’ve got a lot to do today, but we’ll do it together.”

---

Azriel stood by the large, arched window of Rhysand’s office, the glass cool against his fingertips as he looked out over the sprawling gardens of the River House. The room was bathed in the warm, golden light of the afternoon sun, casting a soft glow over the luxurious furnishings and elegant décor. Yet, despite the opulence of his surroundings, Azriel's thoughts were distant, his attention focused on the scene unfolding outside.

Nyx, Rhysand’s nine-year-old son, and Agnar, Cassian’s seven-year-old son, were out on the lawn, their laughter carrying through the open window. The two boys were engaged in a spirited game of tag, their shouts and giggles filling the air with a sense of carefree joy. The sun illuminated their faces, highlighting the innocence and exuberance of childhood.

Azriel watched them with a mixture of fondness and melancholy. He saw the way Nyx’s dark hair gleamed in the sunlight, a mirror of his father’s, and Agnar’s quick, agile movements, so reminiscent of Cassian’s youthful energy. The sight of them playing together, their faces flushed with happiness, tugged at something deep within him.

A shadow of sadness crossed Azriel’s features as he observed the scene. The joy and vitality of his nephews were a stark contrast to the burden he carried. The secrecy surrounding his relationship with YN and their son, Knox, weighed heavily on him. Despite the love he felt for them, he was forced to keep their existence hidden, his role as a father concealed from those closest to him.

Azriel’s gaze softened as he took in the sight of the boys, his thoughts drifting to the life he could have had if circumstances were different. He imagined what it would be like if he could openly share his joy and pride in Knox, if he could let his family see the life he had built with YN. The pain of not being able to do so was a constant ache, a reminder of the sacrifices he had made to protect those he loved.

Rhysand’s voice broke through his thoughts, rich and warm with a touch of amusement. “You seem lost in thought, Az.”

Azriel turned away from the window, his expression carefully neutral as he faced Rhysand. “Just watching the boys. They’re growing up so fast.”

Rhysand smiled, his eyes following Azriel’s gaze to where Nyx and Agnar continued their game. “They are. It’s hard to believe how quickly time passes.”

Azriel nodded, forcing a smile. “Yes, it is.”

Rhysand’s tone grew more contemplative. “Sometimes I think about how different things might be if circumstances were different. But I suppose we make the best of what we have.”

Azriel’s eyes flickered with a mixture of gratitude and sadness. He knew Rhysand’s words were meant to offer comfort, but they only served to underscore the gap between his public life and his private heartache.

“Indeed,” Azriel said quietly, his voice tinged with a sadness that he tried to mask. “We make do with what we have.”

Rhysand’s gaze remained thoughtful, and he seemed to sense the deeper emotions behind Azriel’s words. “If there’s ever anything you need to talk about, you know you can always come to me.”

Azriel nodded, a flicker of appreciation in his eyes. “Thank you, Rhys. I’ll keep that in mind.”

As Rhysand turned his attention to some documents on his desk, Azriel returned to the window, his thoughts returning to the life he had to keep hidden. The sight of Nyx and Agnar playing was a bittersweet reminder of what he yearned for—an open, unburdened life with YN and Knox.

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the polished floors of the River House as Azriel excused himself from the inner circle's meeting with barely a moment to spare. Rhysand, Cassian, and the others were deep in discussion about upcoming strategies and potential threats, but Azriel’s mind was elsewhere, focused on the fleeting moments he could spend with YN and Knox.

“Sorry to cut out early,” Azriel said quickly, his voice tinged with a mix of urgency and apology. “I’ve got something I need to take care of.”

Rhysand looked up, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. “Everything alright, Az?”

Azriel forced a smile, nodding. “Yes, just personal matters. I’ll catch up with you all soon.”

Before anyone could press further, Azriel was already striding towards the exit. His steps were brisk, the weight of his desire to return home fueling his haste. He made his way through the grand hallways and down the stairs, his thoughts solely occupied with the comforting vision of YN and Knox awaiting him.

The journey back to his apartment felt interminable, but finally, he landed silently on the balcony. He slipped into his home with practiced quiet, his senses attuned to the familiar sounds of his sanctuary. The apartment was calm, the air carrying a soft, serene quality that immediately soothed his frazzled nerves.

Azriel moved through the living room, his heart fluttering with anticipation and love. As he rounded the corner, he was met with a sight that warmed him to his core.

YN was asleep on the couch, her form curled up in a cozy nest of blankets. Her hair was splayed across the cushions, a serene expression on her face. Knox, their precious son, lay nestled on her chest, his tiny body rising and falling with each gentle breath. He was awake now, his small eyes blinking with curiosity as he looked up at his mother.

Azriel’s breath caught in his throat at the sight. The image of YN, exhausted but peaceful, with Knox cradled against her, was a poignant reminder of the love and dedication they shared. He approached them quietly, careful not to disturb YN's slumber.

Kneeling beside the couch, Azriel reached out, his fingertips brushing gently against Knox’s soft cheek. The baby cooed, a small, delicate sound that filled Azriel’s heart with overwhelming tenderness.

“Hey, little one,” Azriel murmured softly, his voice a low whisper. “Look who’s come to see you.”

He carefully lifted Knox from YN’s chest, his movements gentle and practiced. The baby’s head rested against his shoulder as he held him close, a smile spreading across Azriel’s face. Knox’s tiny fingers grasped at the fabric of Azriel’s shirt, his eyes bright and curious as he cooed back.

Azriel leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Knox’s forehead. “You’ve been such a good boy today, haven’t you?”

Knox gurgled in response, his eyes widening as he looked up at his father. Azriel’s heart swelled with affection as he held his son, feeling the warmth and weight of him in his arms. The bond between them was palpable, a silent conversation filled with love and promise.

Azriel glanced over at YN, still peacefully asleep. He carefully adjusted Knox, making sure the baby was comfortable in his arms before leaning down to gently brush a strand of hair away from YN’s face.

He settled onto the couch beside YN, keeping Knox cradled close. He watched as YN stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open. She blinked sleepily, her gaze settling on Azriel and their son.

“Azriel?” YN’s voice was soft, her tone a mix of surprise and sleepiness. “You’re home early.”

Azriel smiled, his eyes filled with warmth. “I couldn’t wait to see you both. How was your day?”

YN stretched gently, her eyes softening as she looked at Knox in Azriel’s arms. “It was good. He’s been a little angel. But I’m glad you’re here now.”

Azriel nodded, his gaze fixed lovingly on Knox. “I’m glad too. He’s grown so much in just a few weeks.”

YN reached out, her hand brushing tenderly against Knox’s cheek. “He has. And he’s so lucky to have you.”

Azriel’s smile grew, his heart swelling with love for his family. “And I’m lucky to have you both.”

As he looked down at his son, Azriel felt an overwhelming sense of pride and love. Knox’s small, cherubic face was a perfect blend of both parents, but it was the subtle, distinctive features that made Azriel’s heart swell with emotion. The baby’s tiny limbs and soft, downy hair were endearing, but it was Knox’s nascent wings that truly captured Azriel’s attention.

Even at just two weeks old, Knox had already begun to display the faintest hints of his Illyrian heritage. Though the wings were tiny and not yet fully developed, their presence was unmistakable. They were delicate and translucent, their edges a soft, silvery shimmer that caught the light. They rested against Knox’s back, their appearance a blend of the ethereal and the divine.

Azriel’s fingers traced the edge of one of Knox’s wings with a gentle touch, careful not to disturb his sleeping son. The delicate membranes were warm and soft beneath his fingertips, and the faint luminescence was a reminder of the incredible heritage Knox was inheriting.

“Look at these wings, little one,” Azriel whispered, his voice filled with a tender awe. “Just like mine. You’re growing up so fast, even though you’re still so tiny.”

Knox stirred slightly, his tiny wings fluttering ever so gently in response to his father’s touch. Azriel’s smile widened, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. The sight of Knox’s miniature wings, so full of potential and promise, made his heart ache with a bittersweet joy.

He shifted slightly, pulling Knox closer to him, his own wings instinctively curling around them in a protective embrace. The warmth of his wings enveloped Knox, creating a cocoon of safety and love. The sensation of his son's small body nestled against him, combined with the soft, almost imperceptible flutter of Knox’s wings, was an exquisite reminder of the bond they shared.

Azriel leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Knox’s forehead. “I know you’re just beginning to learn about your wings, but I promise you, they will grow strong. They will carry you through the skies just like mine.”

He continued to speak softly, his words filled with the kind of love that only a parent could feel. “When you’re older, you’ll learn to soar through the skies. But for now, just enjoy being small and safe in your mother’s arms and mine.”

The quiet moments stretched on, and Azriel found solace in the simple act of bonding with his son. The world outside seemed distant and irrelevant compared to the peace he found in these fleeting moments. The responsibilities and secrets that burdened him felt lighter, if only for a while.

As Knox’s tiny hand reached up, his small fingers grasping at the fabric of Azriel’s shirt, Azriel felt a pang of deep affection. The tiny, innocent gesture was a powerful reminder of the love he had for this little being, a love that transcended the complications of their lives.

The peaceful cocoon of the living room was gently disturbed as YN stirred from her slumber on the couch. She stretched languidly, her muscles protesting slightly as she woke from a deep, restful sleep. She blinked sleepily, her gaze falling on Azriel, who was now tenderly bottle-feeding Knox. The soft glow of the lamp illuminated their quiet moment together, casting a warm light across the room.

YN smiled softly at the sight. Azriel’s presence, so gentle and attentive with their son, was a heart-warming sight. She reluctantly pushed herself up from the couch, her body a bit stiff from the hours spent resting in one position. The couch had become a makeshift bed over the past few weeks, but the comfort of being with her family made it all worth it.

Yawning, YN moved to the small, neatly arranged bedroom where her work attire awaited her. She quickly began the process of getting ready for her shift at the pleasure house, her mind already focusing on the tasks ahead.

She started with her undergarments, slipping into a comfortable, supportive bra and a pair of seamless panties. Next, she chose a simple yet elegant outfit for the evening—a fitted, deep navy dress that complemented her figure and allowed ease of movement. The fabric was soft and smooth, with a subtle sheen that caught the light just right. She paired it with a black satin belt that cinched at her waist, adding a touch of refinement to her look.

As she dressed, YN kept an ear out for Knox’s soft coos and Azriel’s soothing murmurs. The quiet, intimate moments they shared were precious, and she cherished the time they had together, even in the midst of their busy lives.

She pulled on a pair of black, sheer stockings, the fabric gliding up her legs smoothly. Her heeled, ankle-length boots completed the look, their dark hue and sleek design adding a touch of sophistication. She glanced at herself in the mirror, adjusting her outfit and making sure everything was in place.

While YN worked on her makeup, she chose a subtle look for the evening. She applied a light foundation to even out her complexion, followed by a touch of blush to give her cheeks a healthy glow. She carefully applied a coat of mascara to her lashes and a muted shade of lipstick that accentuated her natural beauty without being too bold. The final touch was a delicate, sparkling pendant necklace that rested softly against her collarbone.

As she finished up, YN glanced back towards the living room, her heart warming at the sight of Azriel and Knox. Azriel was gently burping Knox, his movements slow and deliberate, a tender expression on his face. Knox seemed content, his tiny hands gripping the edge of the bottle as he took his time feeding.

“Everything going smoothly?” YN asked, her voice soft but filled with a hint of playful curiosity.

Azriel looked up, his eyes meeting hers with a gentle smile. “He’s doing well. We’re just finishing up here.”

YN moved back into the living room, her steps light and purposeful. She bent down to give Knox a soft kiss on his tiny forehead, her fingers brushing gently against his downy hair.

“Almost time for you to go back to sleep, little one,” YN murmured, her voice full of affection. “I’ll be heading out soon.”

Azriel glanced at the clock, noting the time. “I’ll make sure he’s settled before you leave. You go ahead and finish up.”

YN nodded, taking a moment to appreciate the quiet domesticity of the scene before her. She knew that every moment spent with Knox and Azriel was a precious gift, and she cherished these early, serene hours before her work began.

With a final check of her appearance, YN grabbed her small, elegant handbag and slung it over her shoulder. She moved to the door, pausing to take one last look at Azriel and Knox.

“Be good for Daddy,” YN said softly to Knox, her gaze lingering on the tiny, peaceful face of her son.

Azriel looked up, a touch of mischief in his eyes. “We’ll be just fine. You go on and take care of things. We’ll be here when you get back.”

YN gave him a warm smile, her heart full of love and gratitude. “Thanks, Az. I’ll see you both later.”

With one last affectionate glance, YN left the apartment, the door clicking softly behind her. As she walked to her car, she felt a sense of both anticipation and resolve. Her work awaited her, but the love she had for her family was always close to her heart, a guiding light through the busy days and nights.

--

YN stepped into the dimly lit interior of the pleasure house, the familiar blend of perfume and alcohol greeting her senses. Tonight felt like any other—until she noticed two familiar figures occupying the corner booth. Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized Rhysand and Cassian, their presence unexpected and sending a ripple of anxiety through her.

What are they doing here again? YN thought, trying to keep her composure as she walked toward them. She had just served them the night before; seeing them again so soon unsettled her.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” she greeted, her voice warm but professional as she approached their table. “Back again so soon? What can I get for you tonight?”

Rhysand looked up from his conversation with Cassian, his violet eyes sparkling with the usual charm. “Couldn’t stay away,” he replied smoothly. “We’re here to discuss Azriel’s next mission. This seemed like the perfect place to do so.”

The mention of Azriel’s mission made YN’s heart sink. She forced herself to maintain a neutral expression, though her mind was racing. Another mission? So soon after Knox’s birth? The thought of Azriel heading into danger again so soon filled her with dread.

Feigning casual interest, she asked, “Where is Azriel tonight? I thought he might be with you.”

Rhysand shook his head. “He’s probably handling some last-minute preparations. You know how he is—always ahead of the game.”

Cassian grinned. “Or brooding somewhere, as usual.”

YN managed a light laugh, but the weight in her chest only grew heavier. She knew where Azriel had been before she left for work, but hearing them discuss his next mission as if it were routine was unsettling. She needed to know more, to understand what lay ahead for him.

“I’ll get your yesterdays drinks,” YN said, slipping into her role. “Anything else I can bring you?”

Before she could leave, Cassian’s voice stopped her. “Actually, YN, there’s something I wanted to ask.”

She turned back, her heart beating a little faster. “Yes?”

Cassian’s expression softened, genuine curiosity in his eyes. “Last night, you mentioned you have a baby. How are they doing? And your boyfriend? It must be a lot to juggle.”

YN felt a surge of panic but kept her smile intact. She had mentioned her baby the previous night to maintain the cover story. Now, under Cassian’s kind gaze, she had to continue the lie.

“They’re both doing well,” she replied smoothly, though her heart ached. “My boyfriend’s very supportive. It’s been challenging, but we’re managing.”

Cassian nodded, his smile reassuring. “That’s good to hear. You deserve the best.”

Rhysand, who had been quietly observing, spoke up. “It’s not easy, especially with your job. But you’re handling it well.”

YN’s stomach twisted. They had no idea how close they were to the truth—or how much she wished she could tell them everything. But she couldn’t risk exposing her and Azriel’s secret, especially with his upcoming mission looming over them. She needed to know more, even if it meant asking directly.

“So, this mission you’re planning for Azriel,” YN began, keeping her tone casual. “Is it dangerous?”

Rhysand’s expression became guarded, though his tone remained light. “Nothing he hasn’t handled before. Just another piece of the puzzle we’re putting together.”

Cassian added, sensing her concern, “We can’t share details, but Azriel’s the best at what he does. We trust him completely.”

YN nodded, though her worry deepened. She had seen firsthand the toll these missions took on Azriel—the nights he came home battered and weary, the weight of secrets he carried. She couldn’t help but feel protective, knowing what was at stake for him and their family.

She pressed further, hoping for more information. “Do you know where he is now? I haven’t seen him around.”

Rhysand shook his head. “No, he didn’t say where he was heading tonight. But he’ll turn up.”

Cassian grinned. “Probably avoiding us because he knows we’re about to pile work on him.”

YN forced another smile, though her heart was heavy. She knew Azriel had reasons for keeping her in the dark, but that didn’t make it easier. The thought of him out there, facing unknown dangers while she pretended everything was fine, filled her with helplessness.

“I’m sure he’s just busy,” YN said, maintaining her calm facade. “Let me get those drinks.”

She moved away, her mind racing. As she prepared their drinks, the reality of their situation weighed heavily on her. Azriel was preparing for another mission, one that could take him away from her and Knox. And all she could do was wait, serving drinks and keeping up appearances while the man she loved faced danger.

When she returned with the drinks, she plastered on her best smile. Rhysand and Cassian accepted them, quickly resuming their discussion. YN lingered, hoping to catch more information, but the conversation shifted away from Azriel’s mission.

YN pushed open the door to the small, dimly lit apartment, her heart heavy with a mixture of fear and sorrow. As she stepped inside, the familiar scent of home—of Azriel—washed over her, but it brought no comfort this time. Instead, it felt like a cruel reminder of what she was about to lose.

The door closed behind her with a soft click, the sound echoing in the silence of the apartment. Knox’s soft coos came from the bassinet by the window, but YN barely heard them, her mind too clouded by the news she had just overheard. She had known this day would come—that Azriel would be called away on another mission—but knowing didn’t make it any easier.

As she walked further into the apartment, her steps faltered, the weight of her emotions finally crashing over her. She stopped in the middle of the small living room, her vision blurring as tears filled her eyes. A choked sob escaped her lips, and before she could hold it back, she was crying—deep, wrenching sobs that shook her whole body.

She covered her mouth with her hand, trying to stifle the sound, but the tears kept coming, flowing freely down her cheeks. The realization that Azriel would be leaving soon—leaving her and Knox to face whatever dangers awaited him—was too much to bear. The thought of him not coming back, of Knox growing up without knowing his father, of her losing the man she loved, was a fear she couldn’t shake.

YN sank onto the couch, her legs giving out beneath her as the grief consumed her. She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs. She had always known that Azriel’s work was dangerous—that every mission could be his last—but the reality of it had never hit her as hard as it did now. Knox had changed everything. He had brought a new kind of love into her life, but with that love came a new kind of fear—one that gnawed at her every time Azriel left.

The sound of a door opening in the bedroom startled her, and she quickly tried to compose herself, wiping away the tears with trembling hands. Azriel had been in their room, likely catching up on some much-needed rest after his long day. He had no idea she knew about the mission yet; she hadn’t had the chance to tell him.

YN hurriedly stood up, trying to smooth her dishevelled appearance as she heard Azriel’s footsteps approaching. She forced a smile, hoping to mask her distress, but she knew her red, puffy eyes would give her away.

Azriel stepped into the room, his sharp hazel eyes softening when they landed on her. “YN,” he said gently, concern immediately colouring his tone as he noticed her tear-streaked face. “What’s wrong?”

YN opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught in her throat. She didn’t know how to tell him—didn’t know how to voice the fear and sadness that were choking her. Instead, she just shook her head, fresh tears spilling over as she looked at him, her gaze pleading.

Azriel was at her side in an instant, his strong arms wrapping around her, pulling her close. “Shh,” he whispered, holding her as if she were something fragile and precious. “I’m here. It’s okay.”

But it wasn’t okay. YN buried her face in his chest, her hands clutching at his shirt as she cried. Azriel held her tighter, one hand stroking her hair, the other rubbing soothing circles on her back, his voice a soft murmur in her ear.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he urged, his voice gentle but firm. “Please, YN. What’s happened?”

YN pulled back slightly, looking up at him through tear-filled eyes. “I heard about your mission,” she finally whispered, her voice trembling. “I know you’re leaving soon.”

Azriel’s expression shifted, his brow furrowing in concern. He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away her tears. “It’s just a mission,” he said softly, though there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something that told her he knew it wasn’t just any mission.

YN shook her head, fresh tears spilling over. “But what if you don’t come back, Azriel? What if this is the one that takes you away from us? From Knox?” Her voice broke on their son’s name, the fear and anguish she had been holding back pouring out of her.

Azriel’s gaze softened even more, and he pulled her close again, his lips pressing against her temple. “I will come back,” he promised, his voice steady and sure. “I swear to you, YN. I will come back to you and Knox.”

But even as he said the words, YN couldn’t shake the fear that gripped her heart. She clung to him, her tears soaking into his shirt as she prayed that he was right—that this wouldn’t be the mission that tore their family apart.

Let me know if you'd wish to be tagged! Comments and reblogs are really appreciated!

[emeritusemeritus]

The way that I ran here as soon as I saw that your requests are open...!

Could I ask for a fic of reader and George cuddled up in bed (with reader sitting in between his legs leaning on him - so readers back is against his chest) drinking hot chocolate, watching a movie and enjoying the start of their little Christmas break? And while reader is leaning back on George, readers' soft legs under the blanket distract him from what they're watching 🤭. Gentle kisses on her neck and sweet praises in her ear as he reaches between her legs, just wanting his sweet girl to feel nice and relaxed 😚

Merry (early) Christmas x

Hi lovely Anon! This has been such a pleasure to write, I love cozy George! I hope you enjoy and MERRY CHRISTMAS 🎄🖤

Warnings: smut, PinV sex, graphic sex, mirror sex, fingering, George is a bit of a simp, Christmas traditions. Bit of swearing, major fluff. Almost no plot lol. The POV is a little all over the place as I wanted to show both internalised thoughts and the scene.

Word count: 2.8k

George’s Christmas Angel

"Okay we have hot chocolates with those big marshmallows you like, snacks, some homemade cookies I nicked from your mums aaandd Christmas lights!" You say with glee as you step into yours and George's bedroom levitating a tray full of goodies, pausing to turn on the lights to the tree you'd tirelessly toiled over all day to make it look perfect for tonight.

George is already laid on the bed, his plaid pyjamas hung low on his hips and shirtless, fresh from the shower. He grabs the tray as is floats towards him and puts it on his beside table, careful not to spill the drinks before he turns to you again.

"Oh before I forget," you say absently, talking to yourself. You reach up and with one well practiced manoeuvre, you reach into your shirt and unclasp your bra, pulling out from under your top and throwing it into a pile near your chair.

When George notices what you're wearing, he suddenly falls silent, eyes widening at the sight before him. It's not sexy exactly, at least it wouldn't be if it was hung up somewhere, George wouldn't have even noticed it usually; but on your body, the way it clung to your curves, highlighting the places on your body that George loved the most (not that there were any that he didn't). George felt like he was drooling at the sight and had to discreetly wipe his chin to check when you weren't looking, feigning a nose scratch as he watched you bend down slightly to mess with the muggle tv ahead of the movie you were showing him for the first time. He can't look away, transfixed upon the curve of your bum, deliciously round and illuminated by the colourful pattern of your pyjamas, his eyes naturally drawn to the print. He clears his throat, forcing himself to look away, trying to focus on anything else in the room in the hopes it would hold his attention.

"George?

Your voice calls out to him and he turns his head to look back at you, throat forcing down a swallow as he looks upon your body, this time from the front. Your nipples are hard, now more noticeable than ever since the removal of your bra, breasts swishing at you move. George is completely transfixed, hardly able to string two words together in reply to you.

"I said do you need anything before I sit down?"

"No Angel, got everything I need right here," he says with a grin, arms reaching out to you with little grabby hands that insist on you coming to him right away. You laugh and let out a little squeal as he hoists you up onto the bed, positioning you between his thighs and gently urging you back to lay your head in his chest as he pulls the duvet over both of you. His chin tucks neatly on top of your head, always the perfect fit, as his arms snake around your waist so that he's holding you securely. The heat from his body radiates through your back, soothing you and relaxing you all in one. You realise with a great sense of contentment that there's nowhere you'd rather be than right here.

The film begins to play and you can't help but babble excitedly about how this was your favourite muggle Christmas film, the one that officially started your Christmas viewing every year and how you were so excited to show him all of your favourites in the years to come, if you didn't manage to squeeze them all into this particular festive season.

George is half listening, never one to drown out someone speaking so passionately about their interests, especially not his girl, but he's finding himself at increasingly distracted by your body laying between his legs. It's a wonder that you haven't noticed the prominent bulge rubbing against your lower back, especially with the way that it keeps twitching as if trying to seek out more contact, the blood in George's body racing to that one spot so quickly that he's almost dizzy.

Your legs are smooth and soft against his, just as silky as the lingerie you'd worn on your anniversary, the thought of those little panties never far from George's mind. Your chest rises and falls with every steady breath and he's helpless to look away from your breasts having the perfect view from his vantage point above you as he can stare right down into the delicious slope of your cleavage.

It's instinctual, primal almost as his arms unfurl from around you to stroke the smooth skin of your thighs. You shift a little on the spot, eyes still focused upon the television though George sees the way you lean into his touch, silently asking for more. His left hand slips along the exposed skin of your stomach before reaching up to cup your breasts. Your nipples are already pebbled and George's lips upturn into a smirk, his teeth dragging the skin of his bottom lip into his mouth just slightly as he watches the way your breasts fill his palms. His right hand slips towards the edge of your little shorts, toying with the fabric that lays dangerously close to your outer lips of your pussy, his fingers sliding down to your bikini line. Your hips rise slightly, silently beckoning him as your head raises slightly, allowing him unobstructed access to your neck.  His lips ghost against the skin of your neck and he smirks incessantly again when he feels you shiver slightly in his hold, goosebumps rising on your skin.

It's more erotic than it's ever felt, the sensuality of his touch so innocently arousing, like the days when you had to be quiet sneaking around in George's bedroom at the Burrow.

"Can I touch this perfect pussy Angel?" George coos into your ear, his fingers slipping just underneath the material of your shorts but still staying respectful as he awaits your answer.

"Please Georgie," you say breathlessly, opening your legs further for him, your arousal undeniable.

Instead of his fingers slipping out and down into the waistband of your shorts as you'd predicted, his fingers slip underneath the sides of your shorts, the thin material barely concealing your pussy.

You gasp as his fingers brush the smooth outer lips of your pussy, his touch featherlight and teasing as he traces the outline of you. Your hips move on their own accord, trying to prompt him to touch you more intimately, to stop teasing. His fingers suddenly pull open your outer lips and slip towards your little hole, long and deft fingers now tracing your inner lips and smearing the juices he finds there. One long digit draws up your wetness, tracing the seam of your cunt until he finds the sensitive nub at the core of your pleasure. Your head falls back onto his shoulder as his left hand squeezes your breast through the thin top in perfect timing with his ministrations, finger circling both your nipple and your clit in sync. He presses long and delicate kisses to your neck as his fingers play with you perfectly like a musician that had perfected their craft. You're writhing in delight, gasping out his name like it's the only thing you can remember.

Your chest heaves against the material confines of your top and he's quick to rectify that, lifting the flimsy material over the curve of your breasts, leaving you exposed to both his eyes and the chill of the room around you.

"You're so beautiful my Angel," he coos in your ear, the very tip of his index finger gently flicking the top of your clit, making you cry out at the sensation. He's soft and gentle but always with the tense of teasing, always wanting to hold back from the most obvious route to extend your pleasure. You can feel his erection pressed into your back, the wordless need conveyed so effortlessly that it makes you run up against it, wanting him to feel even a hint of the pleasure he was giving you.

"This is for you sweetheart, don't think of me right now, just enjoy it."

It's unbelievable that he could even conceive that you could think of anything else other than him in that moment, his fingers working over your most sensitive part so beautifully with the expertise of a man just like him that had been fucking your good for years. He knows exactly where you need him, your favourite spots, the ones that draw those long and bliss filled moans from your lips, the ones that make you cry out his name like a prayer and most notably the ones that catapult you to your edge in mere seconds.

"I love you so much," he whispers, fingers now circling the top of your clit in perfect rhythms, just beneath the hood in a steady rhythm that he knows you enjoy the most. You can't sit still, writhing under his touch, legs opening and closing as if simultaneously denying and accepting the pleasure bestowed upon you. His hands feel like pure magic on your body and you find yourself holding off your orgasm just for the chance of more.

When his fingers pull away from your skin you let out a low whine as you reach out for him in desperation for him to continue. You feel his chuckle, the vibrations passing between your bodies where you rest on him.

"Do you want my cock sweetheart? You've been so good."

"Please Georgie," you say breathlessly, trying to turn your head towards him but failing, the height difference not allowing you to see his face.

"I have an early Christmas present for you Angel. Take off your shorts," he gently commands before adding, "and that little top, I want to see every beautiful inch of your body on me."

You do as he asks in seconds. Even using magic couldn't have made your clothes disappear faster as you eagerly await the gift of George's cock, knowing that it had been the best gift you'd ever received years prior.

"Face away from me, I want you to see something," George instructs, giving you a warm but teasing smirk as he reaches out for you one again. He's completely naked before you, sat in much thrice same position that he was before but now the taught and freckled skin of his body is on display for you. The lines of his wide and strong shoulders, taught stomach and incredibly long legs, as well as the sight of his swollen cock all add to your arousal and you don't wait any longer to join him on the bed. You do as he asks and guide yourself to face away from him, looking down at where your cores rest just above each other, a delicious tease to what comes next.

He reaches down and grabs his swollen length, giving it a single stroke before his left hand rests in your hip to guide you, offering his cock for you to slip down onto.

You almost shudder in complete arousal as his bulbous tip slips between your folds, resting for only seconds at the very core of your pussy as you slowly sink down until he's penetrating you, filling you right to the brim. You're rendered both speechless and breathless by the sheer size of him, still the most glorious surprise even years later.

The groan that falls from his lips makes your walls clench around him, your eyes closing at the feel of your walls twitching and stretching to accommodate him. You delicately sit up, pulling off his hips for a moment as you slowly rise before sinking back down cautiously, testing the waters. You slowly increase the rhythm of your hips and in no time at all, your hips are canting on him faster and faster. You're both equally as loud in your affections, unable to hold back your cries of pleasure at the sensations. It wasn't often that you ever made love like this, at least not in this position, so unhurried.

He suddenly wraps a long arm around your middle and manoeuvres you so that he's now almost sitting, your bum nestled perfectly in his groin as he begins to move his hips quicker and harder against you, his right hand slips across your front and down to your clit, increasing your pleasure exponentially. Even in this position he's an artist with his fingers as he begins that perfect rhythms once again, finding that spot that makes you howl like a banshee, his name falling out of your mouth like a mantra.

"Look up Angel, look straight forward."

You do as he says, opening your eyes and fighting the urge to close them once again when his cock shifts just that little bit deeper from his change of angle, his hips flush to your bum.

You gasp when your eyes focus in front of you, seeing your reflection mirrored back, though you hardly recognise yourself. In this position, you're directly facing the mirror that you'd moved to accommodate the Christmas tree, not having noticed it's rather risqué new home. Your face is relaxed and yet also contorted into sheer ecstasy, eyes half lidded and pouting lips wide open. Your body is on display in the most exposing way, your legs separated by George's long legs, your breast cupped by his large hands and your clit being so meticulously toyed with. You're exposed and vulnerable but looking at you now, you don't see that, nor do you shy away from the view that you'd usually avoid under any circumstances. You look empowered and sexy with the smile of a woman that was satisfied in every sense. George looks incredible over your shoulder, his face scrunched up with the effort of his thrusts and the pleasure it brought as his slightly freckled hands occupy every inch of your body.

"Watch how I'm fucking you, how fucking beautiful you look."

It brings you closer to the edge quicker than you'd care to admit, seeing your reflection bounce on the cock of her boyfriend, your eyes fixed upon your spread open pussy that George was mercilessly teasing with his fingers. Your hips move faster now, almost bouncing on his cock as he groans and growls, his grip tightening on your breast as if to signal his own closeness.

"George, George!" You cry out, reaching your peak in an alarmingly short amount of time as you writhe on him. You want to keep your gaze upon your bodies in the mirror but your eyes close upon their own accord, the pleasure too much that it feels like it's consuming you. In the periphery of your mind, you can hear and feel George climaxing only seconds later but you're too lost in yourself to actively notice, still swimming through the brilliant haze of your orgasm, mind foggy from the sheer force of your climax.

When you come down from the high, you're panting and covered in a thin sheet of sweat, clinging to George as you feel him in much the same predicament below you. You glance back at the mirror, seeing your reflection wearing a contented smile, looking as cock drunk as you felt.

"So beautiful," he muses, your eyes meeting in the mirror whilst his hand slipping up and down your legs soothingly, slowly bringing your body back to normal. He slips out of you slowly, knowing how overstimulated you'd be and collapses back onto the bed. You turn to look at him, breaking your fixation upon the mirror and slide in beside him, his arms opening up for you instinctively as he wraps the duvet around your naked bodies once again. Your eyes divert briefly to the screen seeing that the movie is close to ending and there's a small pang of sadness that you'd missed most of the film, though you were far from sad at the distraction.

With a slight groan, George reaches across to his bedside table, grabbing his wand as it lay there and casts an enchantment upon the hot chocolates that lay long forgotten on the side, magically making them warm again. He hands you your mug as you sit up straighter in bed, pulling the duvet up with you to fight off the chill and graciously accept the warm mug, watching as a few extra marshmallows appear on top. You turn to George in confusion, watching as he winks at you and places down his wand again, sipping the hot chocolate with a moan of pleasure.

“Let’s start the film again baby,” George suggests, his eyes focusing on the television that was currently playing the credits to the film. “Start it from the beginning… we’ll see how like I can make it through before you distract me again.”

[borathae]

“After listening to your friend’s story about how awesome it feels to sit on your boyfriend’s lap, you want to try it yourself. Jungkook is more than willing to offer his lap to you, even it makes his face burn up and his heart race like crazy (and maybe get his dick hard, but don’t tell anyone).

Alternatively: Maybe sitting on your boyfriend’s lap isn’t as innocent as you may have thought it would be.”

~ Requested by two anonies ~

Pairing: Jungkook x f.Reader

Gerne: College!AU, established relationship!AU, domestic!Fluff, Smut

Warnings: shy but horny!Jungkook, shy but horny!Reader, they both think the other is in charge which ends up with them being two needy subs grinding on each other, so much domestic sweetness, listen it’s so cute, making out, lap sitting, thigh riding, she rubs his cock over his clothes, grinding, she grinds her pussy on his cock, unprotected sex in the sense that he cums on her without a condom on but dw they are both clean & on birth control, cuddles for aftercare

Wordcount: 4.1k

a/n: I combined these two requests and decided to go with the Sense of Innocence!couple because they fit them really well. This is so adorable and cute and gosh, I love writing for them. They are both such sweethearts. Enjoy my lovelies, this is also my B-Day present for Koo 💗

You are hanging out at Jungkook’s place today. It is raining outside. The skies were grey and on the roads little rivers of fallen water were making their way downtown.

You don’t mind the weather. Not only because you love rainy weather, but also because Jungkook’s place was really cozy. He has his heaters on at their highest level, keeping the apartment nice and toasty. His diffuser was on as well, soaking the air in a sweet and perfectly faint vanilla scent. He even turned on his galaxy lamp. It is barely visible right now, as you not only have the lights on, but it’s also still bright outside. It still gave the room a slight colourful hue to it, which was nice.

Jungkook is playing Animal Crossing on his TV while you are next to him, playing on your phone.

Your feet you have buried under his thigh, using his body heat to keep your toes warm. Every now and then you can feel Jungkook caressing the back of your calf as a reminder that he was there and you were there and while he was busy with gaming he still thought of you. It was a nice reminder.

Right this moment you received yet another text from your classmate and friend Jia giving you dating advice.

-          Jia: are you serious? you never sat on his lap before??

-          Jia: haven’t you guys been together for like seven months??

Well, it was more of her shaming you for your slow step taking, but it was dating advice nonetheless.

-          You: not like this. not so random.

-          You: what if it’s weird?

Her answer is instant.

-          Jia: girl, it’s weirder that you’ve never done it before

-          You: :( i just don’t wanna be too much

-          Jia: he loves you like crazy, I don’t think he’d think it’s too much

You contemplate her answer long enough that she sends you three more messages.

-          Jia: besides. two things.

-          Jia: sitting on your guy’s lap is so comfy

-          Jia: and Kook’s a dude, he’ll love it cause dudes love that shit

You sneak a glance at Jungkook, who just this moment shoves a big handful of salted peanuts into his mouth. He wipes the access salt on his black shorts and chews with his big eyes focused on the screen.

So Jungkook loves it when you sit on his lap because all dudes do.

That sounds like a stereotype to you.

-          You: I feel like that’s way too generic. not every guy’s the same.

-          Jia: yeah, duh? but he’s into you and if a guy’s into you he likes it when you sit on him

You feel your cheeks heat up at her choice of words, looking at Jungkook in case he somehow heard what you just read. He obviously didn’t, still highly concentrated on planting pink flowers on his island.

-          You: you really think so?

-          Jia: yeah

-          You: and it’s worth it?

-          Jia: YEAH

You look at Jungkook again. He is chewing again, which means he shoved some peanuts into his mouth when you weren’t looking.

-          You: okay I’ll do it, brb

You don’t get to see her answer, but she is cheering for you.

You place your phone down.

“Hey, Kook, uhm.”

“Hm?” he says, cocking his eyebrow up but not looking away from his game.

“Can I try something?”

“Yeah, wanna play for a bit?” he offers, but follows it up with, “can I just finish the flowers first? I know exactly where to put them and I don’t wanna forget the spots.”

“No, I wanna uhm…can I just show you?”

Jungkook nods his head, “sure”, he says, still staring at his game.

You take a deep breath and peel yourself off your comfortable lounging spot to get on all fours and crawl to him.

He sneaks a glance at you from the corners of his eyes.

“What are you doing?” he asks, eating some peanuts again.

You take his arm and pull it around you. At that Jungkook finally looks at you, flashing you a sweet smile instantly.

“Hey”, he says, pulling you closer.

“Hey, uhm”, you murmur, doing the next step of climbing on top of his lap and then sitting down.

“Oh?” he widens his eyes, gawking at you with his lips parted in a perfect O-shape.

You don’t bear to look into his eyes. Instead you let yourself plop against his chest, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in the crook of his neck.

Jungkook lets out a soft chuckle, nuzzling his cheek against your head. He rubs his hand up and down your back.

“You’re cute”, he says and pecks your hair.

“Do, do you like it?” you ask him.

“Yeah, I do”, he says, returning to his game, “so snuggly.”

You smile. So Jia was right. He likes it. You cuddle closer and begin playing with his hair. You like it too.

His chest is strong, his thighs are soft now that they are relaxed and his arms around you feel so safe. He also smells heavenly. Like his body lotion and laundry detergent. The faint scent of his shampoo lingers on his neck as well, as does the actual smell of his skin.

“Feels nice, don’t stop”, Jungkook says.

You also really love that you can play with his hair so easily. He has the softest hair. It’s always so nice to feel it run through your fingers and tickle your skin.

“Your hair is so soft”, you tell him shyly.

Jungkook rests his head against yours in acknowledgement, humming a soft “mhm”. He knows that he doesn’t have to say more.

You spend the next moments like this. Cuddled up together as Jungkook plays Animal Crossing. He is preparing his island for a flower festival and he wants it to look as perfect as possible. Every now and then, you can hear him munch on some peanuts or mumble innocent curses under his breath when he accidentally planted the flower in the wrong spot.

You feel so cozy atop his lap. He is so warm and snuggly. And the touches he gives you make you tingle like crazy. Each time he eats some peanuts, he makes sure to connect himself with you by touching you softly. His fingers trace your spine, his palms run along your side or thigh and every now and then you feel his lips leave a little kiss on your head. It’s so, so nice to experience and you curse yourself for not doing it sooner.

You would have sat on him longer if the stupid doorbell hadn’t rang. Jungkook lifts his phone to check for the time.

“Our chicken”, he exclaims, “took them long enough. Wah, more than an hour.”

The doorbell rings again. He pats your butt gently.

“Baby, can I get the chicken?”

“No, it’s fine. I’m already getting it”, you say and peel yourself up with a heavy heart. You wanted to stay on his lap for longer.

You thank the delivery person, wishing them a safe drive home. The rain became stronger in the time you sat on Jungkook’s lap, entering his apartment and hitting your toes when you had to open the door. The delivery person trots down the stairs with their head held low to shield the rain. Poor them. You hope that they can warm up and dry off soon. 

You lock the door and return to Jungkook. He already has two plates set out and a pair of plastic gloves for each of you.

“Wah, look at the size of that box. I’m so hungry already, you have no idea. Thank you for getting it”, he says, meeting you halfway to take the box from you. He carries it to his coffee table and sets it down. Then he opens it, busying himself with taking out the different sauces and opening them.

You in the meantime, get comfortable next to him and switch the channels.

“Thank you”, he says.

“Sure. Should we continue Physical 100?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

And so it happens that you and Jungkook watch your current shared favourite show as you eat your crispy chicken. It is a very amazing time and the food is really tasty. But you can’t deny the sad little feeling deep in your tummy that you can’t sit on his lap anymore. You got a taste of it and now you want to experience it again.

You and Jungkook wash down the chicken with some beer. He sighs happily, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“The food was so good”, he says.

There is around seven minute of show left. He relaxes into the cushions and sips on his beer. You get up to clean the table.

“Baby, no”, he says, tugging you back down.

You fall with a squeak, landing on his lap. Your eyes flit up, meeting his playful gaze. Your heart is doing somersaults in your chest. 

“Don’t clean, you’re my guest. Just relax”, he says and wiggles his legs, “please?” he adds, widening his eyes cutely.

“Yeah okay”, you say, stifling a squeaky giggle as you settle against his chest. Your back is resting against it while your head is on his shoulder. He wraps his arm around you, nuzzling his nose into your neck and kissing you softly.

“I love that”, he says, “this is so nice.”

“Yeah it is”, you agree, feeling your heart race like crazy. This is the best feeling ever. It really is.

And so it happens that you finish the show sitting on Jungkook’s lap. You drink your beer, laugh or gasp at parts of the show and enjoy the other’s warmth to the fullest. And you are so, so happy that you dared to take the step. Being on his lap is amazing.

“Do you wanna watch another episode?” he asks once the show finished.

“Yeah, why not?” you say.

“Noice”, he says, pecking your cheek, “keep it playing, I just gotta wash the dishes. I thought I could handle them being here, but I can’t. I’m so fidgety.”

You get off his lap and help him clean the coffee table. The show is running in the background. His kitchen is located right behind the TV, allowing you to listening to the show clearly.

“I get it. It’s nicer when everything’s clean”, you tell him, throwing away the empty chicken box and cans of beer.

“Yeah definitely.”

It doesn’t take long for Jungkook to do the dishes. They were only two plates after all. You are already on the sofa again when he returns. He sits down next to you and sneaks a glance at you. You do the same.

“Do you…” you begin.

“Yeah”, he says, blushing softly.

“Okay”, you almost squeak the word and then you are already on your feet to change your position. You sit down on his lap again, cuddling into him while he hugs you tightly.

“This is so nice”, he says, resting his chin on your shoulder and smiling softly.

“Yeah, it really is”, you agree, feeling oh so happy.

You manage to watch a good two thirds of the show and then you have to get up to pee. You tell Jungkook to keep the show running because you don’t like the current team and don’t care about what happens to them. Jungkook still gives you updates when you are sitting on the toilet, doing so by yelling out what was happening. It made you chuckle because it was cute.

Jungkook is gawking at the screen with big eyes and parted lips once you return. He is resting his elbows on his knees, looking totally captured by the show.

Saddened by the fact that you can’t sit on his lap anymore, you sit down next to him.

His head turns to you instantly, he frowns at you, studying you with sad eyes.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you sitting there?”

“What do you mean?”

“Get on here”, he says, patting his lap, “don’t sit there.”

“Oh”, your cheeks heat up instantly, “sorry, I just didn’t want to force myself onto you.”

“You’re not. Now com’ere”, he says and opens his arms for you.

You follow happily, doing it in a way so you were facing him again.

“But you can’t watch the show like that”, he says.

“It’s fine, I like this so much more”, you tell him, running your hands up and down his neck.

He gazes into your eyes and smiles with them. You retort it.

“You’re cute”, he says.

“You like this, don’t you?”

“I love it so much”, he says.

“I thought that I would try it tonight.”

“It’s amazing”, he smiles, caressing your waist.

You are so giddy! You have to kiss him! You do so rather forcefully, knocking a surprised squeak out of him. He falls into the cushions, accepting the kiss with his breath tickling your cheek as he exhales shakily. One more time you suck on his lips and then you pull back to sneak a glance at him.

His eyes are half-lidded, his lips are parted. He gazes at your lips then locks eyes with you. A soft, hazy smile lights up his face.

“What was that for?” he asks.

“Just so. I think you’re so cute”, you tell him.

“I think you’re cuter”, he says and looks at your lips, “I want to kiss you again”, he confesses, cupping your cheek, “please?”

You close the distance between you and him. You want the same. You got a taste of him and now all you want to do is have him on your lips for hours. It starts off innocent. Really, you didn’t mean for it to turn into the mess it will turn into ten minutes from now.

It starts off oh so innocently. You are feeling each other up, but it is never meant to linger on an intimate spot. You touch his chest, his shoulders, his face and neck, playing with his hair as well. While he feels up your back, your waist, your legs and your face, tickling your scalp every now and then as well. It was supposed to be innocent, but the thing with being stupidly and unbearably in love with each other is that there will come a time where the innocent touches leave exciting sparks on your skin and then those touches send your hearts into overdrive and make your breaths shaky.

You break the kiss, just so you can connect your tender lips with his neck.

“Baby”, Jungkook sighs, tilting his head to the side and closing his eyes, “that feels really good.”

His pulse is racing like crazy under your lips, encouraging you to keep going. Jungkook moans softly, sliding his hands to your hips. That’s when the innocence ceases to exist. You chase his touch, forcing your pussy to grind against his thigh.

“Ah”, you gasp, tensing up and lifting your head.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks, looking at you with big, worried eyes.

“I, I”, you stutter, feeling your face heat up unbearably.

“Baby, what’s the matter?” he stresses.

You wiggle your hips and bite down a little moan. The pressure and warmth on your clit felt really intense. Jungkook sneaks a glance down at you, widening his eyes.

“Oh”, he lets out, looking back at you.

You lower your head, feeling too embarrassed to look into his eyes. He’ll probably think that you’re such a needy idiot.

Jungkook takes your hand and guides it to his dick wordlessly.

“Oh?” you gasp, gawking at him. He is really hard in his shorts, twitching into your hand as he guides your fingers over his tip. He is blushing like crazy.

“I didn’t want to say, because I didn’t wanna be a horndog”, he says and grins shyly.

“Oh”, you let out and wiggle your hips on his thigh. The grinding motion feels so good that you let out a little moan. Jungkook answers you with a moan as well, looking at your lips with droopy eyes. He is still rubbing your hand over his clothed cock, but soon doesn’t have to anymore as you take over.

“This is good”, he sighs.

“Yeah, it’s good”, you agree.

Jungkook places his strong hands on your hips and helps you ride his thigh. He feels so good. You are so warm on his thigh and the way you seem to tense and shudder each time your hips roll over his muscle excites him a lot. You in return love how his cock is twitching under your hand and how hot he feels to the touch.

You exchange one look, one moan, one touch and then you are kissing again. Sloppier than before. More tongue as well. And with lots of little sounds escaping the both of you. The show is almost over by now. Only ten minutes left. Neither of you take it in. It’s background noise, just as the loud rain outside is.

You rub each other sensitive that way. The next episode is already four minutes in when you break the kiss again. You have soaked through your panties and sweats by now. Jungkook did the same with his shorts. You are panting like crazy, barely catching your breaths. You try to look at him, but barely can. He is so blurry in your vision. You cup his heated cheeks. Jungkook leans into your touch, moaning your name.

“I can’t hold it for long”, he confesses.

“Same”, you say, tensing on his lap.

“I wanna feel your pussy.”

“We could take our pants off.”

“Yeah please.”

“Okay.”

You scramble to get naked. At least your bottoms for now. You are too horny to care about your shirts. You just want to connect with each other again. You scramble back onto his lap, Jungkook welcomes you with open arms. He grips your hips instantly without ever guiding you. You still think that he is. Neither of you really think they’re in charge, both think it’s the other. It still works somehow. You find each other, pressing up against the other.

Like this, your pussy is grinding right against his cock. Said cock is resting against Jungkook’s stomach, twitching when your wet warmth comes into contact with him.

“Baby”, Jungkook moans, closing his eyes, “baby that feels so good.”

“Yeah”, you moan and chase him with rolls of your hips. His cock grinds right against your clit, sending electric pleasure through your veins. He is so much warmer than his thigh was. And softer. And so much wetter. Oh god, having his naked cock against your pussy feels so good. You don’t want to stop chasing him. He probably thinks that you are acting so needy right now, but you have to keep moving.

You lower your head to kiss his neck and suck on his skin desperately.

Jungkook moans, dropping his head on the edge of the backrest. Like this, his body slides down the cushions just enough that you have even better access to his cock. You press down on him and use the better position to focus your attention on his tip.

Jungkook shudders, tensing his thighs as he feels bolts of pleasure course through him.

“Don’t stop”, he begs, leaking in bliss.

You smear it all over your pussy and cock seconds later, mixing it with your own never ending slick. The movements are so easy because of how wet both of you are. You can’t stop grinding on him even if you wanted to. His request is unnecessary because all you want to do is keep feeling him in this way.

“Don’t stop”, you beg. You don’t know why you begged, but it felt so right to do. In your eyes it is Jungkook, after all, who controls the scene. Who guides your hips with his hands as you lose yourself on his cock.

While he thinks that you are having him wrapped around your every finger, laying willing victim to your sweet seduction.

Truly it is almost adorable how wrong either of you was. Just two submissive lovers grinding on each other, thinking they are the one submitting whilst in reality you are both equally submissive. It’s adorable, really. Adorable and very needy.

Oh so needy.

You break your lips from Jungkook’s neck because you needed to breathe. You are so dizzy that it gets hard to keep moving your hips. But you have to, Jungkook would want you to.

“I’m so close”, you whimper, twisting a bundle of his hair.

“Me too, baby”, Jungkook gets out, squeezing your hips. He is holding back. All he really wants to do is climax all over your pussy. But he holds back, because you would want him to.

Adorable, really. You both are so adorably stupid right now.

“Kookie”, you whimper, tensing up. Your clit is pulsating like crazy. You can’t describe how intense his cock feels on it, but it does. Oh it does. You can barely breathe.

“You can c-cum whenever you, you need to”, Jungkook stutters, squeezing your hips.

“R-really?” you squeak out, resting your forehead on his shoulder. You are so ruined. Oh god, so ruined. You need to keep grinding and grinding and grinding.

“Yes”, he says and in his ears it’s him making sure that you cum first, but to you it sounds like he is finally giving you permission to let go.

You press yourself closer and sob his name, hiding away in the crook of his neck as you let that tight knot in your tummy burst. You manage to grind yourself on him one more time and then the pleasure gets too difficult to bear.

“Oh god”, you choke out, convulsing atop his lap as your fingers twist his hair desperately. You feel so hot. Your pussy feels like she’s burning up. It’s so intense that you end up sobbing his name again and squeezing him for comfort.

“You’re so hot”, Jungkook mewls, helping you ride out your high by moving his hips which results in his cock grinding against your pussy, “oh god baby, oh god.”

You finish after five aggressive shakes of your legs.

“Kook”, you moan, chasing him even if it hurts a little. You already acted needy enough, now you need to get him off as well, “Kook please.”

“I’m gonna cum”, Jungkook whimpers, “I can’t hold back anymore.”

“Please”, you beg him, grinding your overstimulated pussy against his tip.

“___”, Jungkook moans and arches his back. The tight knot in his stomach breaks and fire takes a hold of his body. It feels so good to climax like that, leaving him to drop into the cushions and keen your name loudly.

“Yes, thank you”, you pant, helping him ride out his high by grinding on his cock. He made you so sticky and wet now that he is cumming all over your pussy. You really like the feeling, chasing it with needy ruts of your hips.

It takes Jungkook six rolls of your hips and then he gets too overstimulated. He grips your hips and drags you away from his cock.

“Please no more”, he begs.

You drop onto his lap, soiling his skin with your mess. Neither of you care.

“Thank you”, he gets out, hugging you against him, “oh god, this was amazing.”

“Yeah”, you agree with your head resting on his chest, “I was so horny.”

“Me too”, he says, chuckling breathily, “you’re amazing.”

“No, you are.”

You lift your head to send him a goofy grin. One he retorts happily.

Behind you the show announces the new challenge. You and Jungkook sneak a glance at it.

“What the hell is going on?” Jungkook asks, reaching for the remote to press the information button, “huh? How are we already halfway through the next episode?”

“Stop it. I don’t wanna spoiler myself”, you say.

Jungkook turns off the TV and drops the remote in synch with his head falling against the sofa, “we’re idiots. I didn’t even realise the show was still on”, he laughs.

“Yeah me neither”, you giggle, “but I don’t regret it.”

“Agreed”, he says, hugging your waist, “lean into me, I wanna hold you.”

“Mhm, Kookie”, you say, snuggling into him, “we gotta rewatch what we missed.”

“Yeah definitely.”

“I gotta go pee and clean up soon”, you whisper.

“Hush, just a few more moments. I need to savour you.”

“That’s fine with me”, you say, feeling oh so happy that you want to scream.

Jungkook feels the same, replaying what happened moments before in his head. He is smiling as he does, feeling his heart race like crazy.

Jia will ask you for updates when you meet her on campus on Wednesday, but you won’t give her more than a simple “he really loved it”. She smiled and then acted cocky about being right.

[lavandulawrites]

Request

Trying to have a romantic date with Mr Reca but he doesn’t stop explaining/complaining about the movie you just saw together.

Little Mister Critique

Mr Reca x reader

I decided to keep this nice and simple as I have a lot of requests I need to finish:) Mr Reca is so fucking underrated it’s absolutely insane. (Let me know if anyone wanna be apart of my taglist).

Masterlist

The restaurants atmosphere was cozy and romantic. Multiple candles were littered around in a fashionable sense. You and your beloved boyfriend was sitting in a both in a private corner on the second floor of the luxurious restaurant. The giant windows looked out over the city. The city lights glittered like the stars in the darl sky. It was truly a breathless sight. The sound of cutlery against porcelain filled sounded like wind chimes.

The men in front of you cut into his lasagna before he brought it to his lips. He chewed with a delighted hum. After swallowing he hummed again “My my, this restaurant truly is delightful, is it not? I think I should make one of the scenes in my new movie take place here…”

You nodded. “Yeah, the food and the atmosphere are truly something” you have the brunette a soft smile. His eyes twinkled like red stars as his lips retuned your smile.

“So what woul-”

“God that movie we just watched was truly a disgrace to the cinematic arts” Reca interrupted you. He shook his head in great disappointment as he recalled the movie.

You raised your brow as you sighed. Here we go again.

“I don’t think it was that bad” you shrugged. “You are overreacting. Now eat your food.”

“Of course it was bad! The cinematography was horrendous, the colours obnoxious, the costumes extremely cheap” he waved his hands in a dramatic manner. “Ugh and don’t even get me started on the acting and script! It should be illegal to produce such garbage. It’s a disgrace to directors and the audience to witness such filth” he scoffed. Reva’s handsome face was twisted in annoyance. “I should have asked for a refund” he muttered under his breath as he took a sip of his red wine.

“Reca” your stern voice broke him out of his theatrics. He swallowed as he glanced down on the plate. He looked like a guilty puppy and you but your tongue as to not laugh out loud.

“You have been complaining about that goddamn movie on the whole way from the cinema and till we got our food. I finally thought you would have gotten it out of your mind when you got your food, but I guess I was wrong” you sighed. “But I do agree with you, it was bad, but don’t let it ruin our date. Okay?” you stroke his hand gently.

His charming smile returned to his lips as he nodded firmly. “You are naturally right, my dear. I shall refrain from talking about that garbage” he lifted his wine glass. Your glasses clicked together. “Let us have a date that even the best romantic films of the cosmos won’t even dream to compare with.”

[badathumanemotions]

Expecting A Little Pumpkin

Spencer Reid x Reader

MasterList Category: Fluff CW: Just some sweet domestic fluff. Pregnancy, Baby Bump, Body Paint, Dad Spencer. WC: 911 Spencer asks to paint your baby bump for the Halloween season. (Not Proof Read)

Halloween, the night of pumpkins and candy, is approaching, bringing with it a chilly excitement that fills the air. The leaves rustle in the cool evening breeze, hinting at the festivities just around the corner. Spencer Reid, your loving partner and expectant father, is practically buzzing with energy. This is his favourite holiday, and he's been planning something special for the both of you.

You're in the kitchen, eight months into your pregnancy, and the baby bump is definitely more of a baby mountain these days. Spencer sidles up behind you, his hands warm on your waist, and leans in to kiss your neck. "You know what we should do for Halloween?" he asks, a mischievous glint in his eye. "I want to paint your belly," he says, and you can feel his smile against your skin.

You stiffen, a little self-conscious about your changing body. "What do you mean?" you question, turning to face him. He's holding a set of non-toxic, water-based body paints, the colours of a jack-o'-lantern vivid and cheerful. "A jack-o'-lantern," he clarifies, his voice filled with excitement. "It'll be fun, and a great way to celebrate the baby."

Spencer can see your hesitation, but he's not deterred. "Your body is beautiful, sweetheart," he says earnestly, "and this is just another part of the amazing journey we're on." His words are gentle, like a warm blanket on a cold night, wrapping around you. He takes your hand and leads you to the couch, where he's set up a cozy area with pillows and blankets. "Trust me," he whispers, his eyes filled with love and reassurance.

With a deep breath, you agree, allowing Spencer to guide you through the process. He carefully lays out the towels to protect the fabric, his movements tender and precise. The anticipation builds as he opens the paint bottles, the scent of the seasonal colours mingling with the comforting aroma of pumpkin spice candles flickering nearby. You feel the soft fabric of your shirt being lifted up, revealing your round belly to the cool air. He kisses it gently, a silent promise to treat it with the care it deserves.

Spencer starts with a light outline, his strokes smooth and sure. You can't help but giggle as the cold paint meets your skin, tickling you in a way that makes you squirm. "Sorry," you murmur, trying to hold still. "It's okay," he says, his own laughter bubbling up. "You're just as adorable as our little pumpkin in there." He winks, and you can't help but smile back at him.

The process is meticulous, with Spencer focusing intently on each detail. The orange base is applied with care, followed by the bold lines of the grinning jack-o'-lantern face. You watch in amazement as your belly transforms into a canvas of his artistry. His eyes flicker up to meet yours periodically, seeking approval and sharing his delight. The sensation of the brush on your skin is both tickling and soothing, a strange yet comforting blend of sensations that only he could bring.

As he works, you feel a gentle pressure from within, a reminder that the life you're carrying is very much a part of this festive evening. The baby kicks, as if in approval of the vibrant colours appearing on your stomach. Spencer's smile widens, and he takes a moment to place his hand over the spot, feeling the little movements beneath. "I think they like it," he murmurs, awe in his voice. The moment is so intimate, so filled with love, that you forget all about your earlier self-doubts.

The painting is coming along nicely, and Spencer's excitement is contagious. He's talking non-stop about the trick-or-treating you'll do together next year, how you'll dress up the baby and take them around the neighbourhood. You can see it all in his eyes, the joy of creating new traditions, of sharing the wonder of Halloween with your child.

Finally, he steps back to admire his handiwork, a masterpiece of love and creativity. The jack-o'-lantern on your belly is perfect, with a wide, welcoming smile and glowing eyes. He adds a few final touches, a stray line here, a dash of shading there, until it's complete.

"Come on," Spencer says, helping you up from the couch, his hands supporting your weight with surprising strength. You waddle slightly, the baby protesting the sudden movement with a gentle kick. He ushers you over to the full-length mirror in the bedroom, his grip firm yet gentle.

When you look at your reflection, your breath catches. The sight of your belly, painted with such care and love, is overwhelming. The vibrant orange of the pumpkin contrasts with your skin tone, making the design pop. The green vine border he added around the pumpkin gives it a whimsical touch. "You're a masterpiece," Spencer whispers, his eyes shining with admiration.

You can't stop smiling as you run your hands over the cool, dry paint. The sensation sends delightful shivers down your spine, and you can't help but feel a sense of pride and excitement. "Thank you," you tell him, your voice filled with emotion. "This is amazing."

Spencer's eyes light up, and he leans in to kiss you, his lips soft and warm. "Now, for pictures," he says, his voice excited. He grabs his phone from the nightstand and snaps a few pictures, capturing the moment for posterity. You laugh, feeling beautiful and loved in a way you never knew was possible.

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

your desi reader fics make me feel so seen 🥹 can I request an oscar x desi reader fic? maybe of them like watching a bollywood movie together bc I just know he’d ask a gazillion questions bc it doesn’t make sense but they’re not meant to follow logic bro just enjoy 😭

Just Pure Feeling -`♡´-

☾ op x desi!reader ༊*·˚

☾ fluff ༊*·˚

masterlist ☾☼

It was a cozy evening in your apartment. The low thrum of the ceiling fan and the smell of dinner you'd just had clung to the air. You sat cross-legged on the couch, surrounded by cushions in every colour imaginable, with the warm dimming of fairy lights softening the room.

Oscar was staring at the TV screen, seemingly befuddled; he had somehow found himself snuggled next to you. His usual biting wit and calm demeanor seem to have deserted him utterly.

The film? Ah, Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham—one of your favorites, the great family epic of love, drama, and much else more.

You glanced over at him, trying not to laugh. He was taking this whole Bollywood thing very seriously.

"Okay, so… let me get this straight," Oscar said, pausing the movie just as a dramatic scene of Shah Rukh Khan running across the airport flashed on the screen. “Why does he look like he’s running through a storm of rose petals?”

You laughed, taking the remote control from his hand and played the movie. "It's a Bollywood film, Oscar. It's not about the logic. It's about the emotions".

He blinked twice, eyebrows furrowed in incomprehension. "He's just… running? Like, why is he running in slow motion? And what's with the over-the-top background music? No one does this shit in real life".

"Oh, trust me. It's all part of the charm," you said with a grin, squeezing his arm. "It's the drama, the flair, the passion. It's what makes it special."

Oscar shook his head, still processing what he'd just witnessed. "But why is everyone crying so much? Like, for a movie that literally means 'sometimes happiness, sometimes sadness', I've only seen sadness till now. And why is everyone wearing these elaborate outfits for literally every occasion?"

"Because they're expressing their feelings, Oscar! Emotions are bigger than life here. And don't even get me started on the fashion—it's a cultural thing. The more bling, the better." You laughed at his confused expression. "You'll get used to it. It's about the spectacle."

He furrowed his brow, not satisfied. "Spectacle? The movie's just one melodrama after another! A huge family reunion, and now everyone's hugging… Did he just turn away from his family for years over a misunderstanding?"

You bit your lip to hold in a chuckle. "Yep. That's what makes it Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham — sometimes you have happiness, sometimes sadness. It's all about the grand emotional journey."

Oscar gazed at the screen a few more seconds, his eyes wide. "Okay, but how do they have the energy to sing and dance in the middle of a serious conversation? Like, how does that happen?"

"Bollywood logic," you shrugged, as if that explained everything. "People break into song in the middle of a heartfelt discussion. They could be talking about how to solve world peace, and suddenly it's a dance number. It's magic, Oscar."

He rubbed his temples, clearly trying to keep up with the plot, but at least, he was trying. "But… they just lost their son in a family feud. Why is there a dance number in the middle of a tragedy? This makes no sense!"

You laughed so hard that you had to pause the movie for a moment, clutching your stomach. "Because, Oscar," you said, voice still bubbling with laughter, "it's a Bollywood film. It's a rollercoaster of emotions. You go from crying your eyes out to dancing in the rain in the blink of an eye."

Oscar blinked again, his eyes flicking between the screen and you, as if trying to make sense of it all. "So, what you're saying is… it's not supposed to make sense?"

"Exactly. You're supposed to feel it."

"Well, I'm definitely feeling something," Oscar muttered under his breath. "I just don't know what it is."

"Good!" You smirk at him, flicking him lightly on the shoulder. "Now stop overthinking it and enjoy the ride."

Oscar sank back into the couch with a heavy sigh, surrendering himself to not knowing anything. And yet, you could see the curiosity in his eyes amidst the confusion. "Fine, fine. No reasoning. Just.. pure feeling. Got it."

As the movie played, you snuggled closer to him, feeling his arm instinctively wrap around your shoulders. You felt him press a soft kiss on the top of your head.

"He's so pretty," You murmured at one point.

"Who? The actor?" Oscar asked immediately, sitting up a little straighter.

You hadn't realised that you had said it out loud, but you supposed that he was going to find out eventually.

"Shah Rukh Khan. He's so pretty," Your eyes were glued to the screen as you watched the actor go through his motions.

"You sound like you're in love with him," Oscar laughed, "Thank God, you're not, huh?"

You didn't respond, not wanting to lie to your boyfriend.

"You're not, right?" Oscar emphasised.

"Uh huh, sure. Of course I'm not, that'd be," you paused, sighing sadly, "stupid,"

Oscar shook his head. He didn't know what to say. His girlfriend had a crush on an actor that he was pretty sure had a wife and kids.

You had to admit, this was one of your favorite ways to share your world with him—watching him slowly come around to something so deeply ingrained in your culture, even if he couldn't fully grasp it yet.

A few moments later, when the screen changed to a song-and-dance number, Oscar let out a short laugh. "Alright, so, now they're all dancing on top of a moving car. Got it. Makes perfect sense."

You snorted. "Exactly! That's the spirit!"

You sat there side by side, watching the drama on the screen, but in the midst of it, something much more important was going on: the two of you were creating a beautiful little moment of your own. Not one that had to make sense, but one that simply existed, full of laughter, love, and the warmth of a shared experience.

And, hey, if Oscar cried at some point during the film, you were not supposed to know that. The usually emotionless man had lost the war with a simple Bollywood movie, and may have finally shed a tear or two.

And as the credits rolled, Oscar turned to you with a mock-serious expression. "Alright, I think I'm ready for the next one."

You grinned, already planning your next Bollywood movie marathon. It was clear that Oscar had a lot more questions to ask, but you had no doubt he'd be enjoying the journey every bit as much as you did.

"Get ready for Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge next," you said with a mischievous glint in your eye. "It's even more dramatic."

Oscar sighed dramatically, sinking into the couch. "This is going to be a long night."

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

okay, im ngl, i like this op x desi!reader way more than the previous one. i think i'm getting the hang of writing oscar a little bit. let me know if y'all like this one! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @imlonelydontsendhelp ; @greantii ; @anamiad00msday ; @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @nocturnalherb16 ; @justaf1girl ; @peterholland04