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gf2bellamy · 2 days ago

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hi loveee i have a new request for uuuu

another rlly simple and cute one where spencer just loves head scratches (no this is totally not based on me……) and he somehow exposes that to the whole team and it’s just some rlly cute thing (bonus points if they’re on the jet and at the end after all the teasing he just lays his head on reader’s lap and gets head scratches)

you can decide whether it’s pre or secret relationship :D

danke schön

- 🐚

headscratches — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: mention of a case, just a tiny bit ( very tiny bit ) of angst, secret relationship a/n: hiiiiii 🐚 ! i totally get u i love head scratches too - thank you for ur request i hope you like this <3<3<3

Your exhausted feet carried you up the steps of the BAU jet, every muscle in your body aching from the long case. It had been a grueling few days—little sleep, too much stress, and way too many hours spent chasing down leads. But at least it was over now. The case was closed, and you could finally breathe.

Thankfully, your wonderful boyfriend had taken it upon himself to carry your bag, saving you from having to drag it up the stairs yourself. You barely managed to collapse into one of the plush seats by the window before Spencer stowed your things away and settled in beside you.

“Thank you,” you murmured, turning your head to look at him.

Spencer gave you a small, knowing smile, his eyes softening as he nodded. “Of course.”

The two of you were alone on the jet, at least for now. The rest of the team was still wrapping things up , which meant you had a few rare, stolen moments of privacy. It was a relief—not just because you could finally let your guard down, but because no one on the team knew about your relationship.

Keeping things under wraps was tricky, especially when you worked together every day, but moments like this made it worth it.

As the jet’s engines hummed to life beneath you, Spencer leaned into you slightly, his shoulder brushing against yours. He always did that when you were alone, like some part of him just naturally gravitated toward you when there was no one around to notice.

Without thinking, you turned to your side reaching up and gently brushing a few strands of hair from his face.

His hair was always a little unruly after a long case, messy curls falling into his eyes, and you had developed a habit of fixing it for him.

He let out a quiet breath at your touch, his eyelids fluttering slightly as he relaxed against you.

“You okay?” you asked, your voice softer now, laced with quiet concern.

Spencer gave a small nod, offering you a gentle smile. “I’m okay,” he murmured. Then, tilting his head slightly, he asked, “Are you?”

You nodded, and before you could say anything else, his hand found your knee, his touch light and reassuring as his fingers traced slow, absentminded patterns.

But the moment didn’t last long.

The familiar voices of your team filled the jet, breaking the quiet, and as soon as Spencer registered their presence, his hand slipped away.

Like it had never been there at all.

Spencer immediately reached for his satchel, pulling out a book as if he had been reading the entire time. You turned your gaze toward the window, pretending to be lost in thought.

It wasn’t long before Emily and Derek flopped into the seats across from you.

“I can’t wait to get home to Sergio,” Emily sighed, stretching out in her seat.

Derek chuckled. “That cat’s got you wrapped around his little paw.”

You turned toward her, curiosity piqued. “How is he?”

Emily waved a hand. “Same as always. Demanding, dramatic, and somehow convinced he’s royalty.” She rolled her eyes fondly before adding, “Lately, he’s been obsessed with head scratches. I swear, if I even walk past the couch, he flops over immediately demanding them."

You laughed. “Sounds about right for a cat.”

Emily shook her head. “I don’t get it. What’s so great about them? He acts like it’s the greatest thing in the world.”

Before you could reply, Spencer, who had been silent up until now, lowered his book to his lap and spoke without hesitation.

“Head scratches are scientifically proven to reduce stress and increase oxytocin levels,” he stated matter-of-factly. “The repetitive motion stimulates nerve endings in the scalp, which can trigger a relaxation response. It’s also associated with bonding, which is why many social animals, including humans, find it soothing. It's quite comforting.”

It took a second for the weight of his words to register.

Then, as if on cue, all three of you turned to look at him.

Spencer blinked, his lips parting slightly as he realized his mistake. His book was still open in his lap, but he suddenly seemed much more interested in the stitching of the pages than the words on them.

Derek’s grin spread slow and wide. “Wait a minute…”

Emily gasped. “Oh my god.”

You barely held back a smile, eyes locked on Spencer as the tips of his ears turned a shade of pink. He opened his mouth, probably to backpedal, but it was already too late.

Derek leaned forward, resting his arms on the table infront of him as he grinned. “Are you telling me you like head scratches, pretty boy?”

Spencer quickly looked down, flipping a page in his book despite very clearly not reading it. “I was simply stating a scientific fact.”

Emily wasn’t letting it go. “Oh no, no, no. That was way too specific.”

Derek laughed loudly, leaning forward with a wicked grin as he reached out and ruffled Spencer’s curls.

Spencer immediately jerked back, his entire body tensing as he shot Derek a horrified glare. He hastily smoothed down his hair, his blush deepening.

Derek, of course, looked way too pleased with himself. “Oh, come on, I had to test the theory,” he teased, shaking his head. “And judging by that reaction, I’d say someone is pretty damn picky about where his head scratches come from.”

Emily laughed, clearly entertained by the discovery. “Seems like he doesn’t like it when you do it,” she pointed out, eyes flicking between the two of them with amusement.

Derek leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms with a smirk. “Yeah, I noticed. Interesting.”

Spencer huffed, flipping a page in his book with a little too much force. “It’s not that interesting,” he muttered, keeping his gaze stubbornly locked on the text.

You smiled to yourself at Spencer’s embarrassed form, watching the way he kept his head down, pretending to be deeply engrossed in the book in his lap. You knew better, of course.

You knew Spencer liked head scratches—most of your evenings together looked exactly like that. Him stretched across the couch, head resting in your lap, curls slipping through your fingers as he read.

Emily, still watching you, narrowed her eyes slightly before shifting her gaze to Derek. The two of them exchanged a look—one of those silent conversations that meant absolutely nothing good.

“Spencer Reid,” Emily drawled, her grin widening, “do you only like head scratches coming from certain people?”

Spencer slowly looked up from his book, suspicion evident in the way he narrowed his eyes. “What?”

Derek smirked. “You heard Prentiss.” He leaned forward. “Do you only like head scratches when they’re from her?”

You turned toward them, blinking. Wait, what?

It was a known fact that the two of you were close. If someone was looking for Spencer, they usually found him with you. If you were missing from the bullpen, Spencer always knew exactly where you were. And everyone on the team knew he wasn’t a particularly touchy person—except with you.

What they didn’t know was why.

What they didn’t know was that this wasn’t just friendship.

That the late-night conversations, the lingering looks, the small, stolen touches all meant something more.

That you weren’t just his best friend.

You were his.

And now, you were all sitting on the jet, the team watching way too closely, Spencer’s ears burning bright red as Derek and Emily smirked.

Spencer cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. “That’s—” He hesitated, eyes flickering to you for just a second before looking back at his book. “That’s not relevant.”

Emily gasped.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, turning to Derek, “that was not a denial.”

Derek grinned. “Nope, not at all.”

Spencer groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “This is ridiculous.”

You pressed your lips together, trying so hard not to laugh.

Emily tilted her head, eyes gleaming with mischief. “So, hypothetically, if someone else did it…”

Spencer shot her a sharp glare. “Hypothetically, they wouldn’t.”

Derek laughed, pointing at him. “Oh yeah. That’s so an exclusive privilege.” He turned to you, grinning. “Man, you must be special.”

You shrugged, playing it cool despite the warmth creeping up your neck. “I guess I just have the magic touch.”

Spencer exhaled sharply, closing his book with a thud. He turned to you, eyes soft but exasperated. “Are you enjoying this?”

"Maybe." You shrugged your shoulders as you gave him a teasing smile.

Spencer shook his head, feigning disappointment—but you knew better. He was never disappointed in you.

You smiled softly, and out of habit, reached up to brush his hair out of his face. His eyes flickered shut for a moment, just barely, before reopening with a look that was almost a warning.

A silent, don’t push your luck.

But you were in the mood to tease.

To your luck, Derek was already slipping his headphones on, and Emily had her eyes closed, arms crossed as she settled into her seat. The hum of the jet filled the space, covering the small shuffle of movement as you let your fingers slip back into Spencer’s curls.

His breath hitched, and you felt him tense—just for a second—before melting like he always did.

You bit back a grin as your nails gently scratched against his scalp, moving in slow, soothing circles.

Spencer exhaled, the tension in his shoulders draining as his eyes fluttered shut again. His grip on his book loosened slightly.

You loved how easy it was, how little effort it took to make him relax.

His head dipped slightly, unconsciously leaning into your touch, and you took the opportunity to gently guide him down. Your hand pressed lightly to the back of his head, tilting him so that his cheek brushed against your shoulder.

For a moment, he resisted—a small, fleeting moment of hesitation—before giving in entirely.

You kept scratching lightly, feeling the way his body settled beside you, warm and familiar. Your fingers threaded through his curls, slow and deliberate, as he let out the softest sigh.

You smiled, pressing your cheek lightly against the top of his head.

Spencer Reid, the most brilliant mind you had ever known, was undone by something as simple as your fingers in his hair.

And you loved it.

Your eyes drifted shut, fingers still moving in slow, rhythmic motions through Spencer’s hair. His soft curls tickled your cheek as you rested your head against his.

What you didn’t notice?

The way Derek and Emily were now watching the two of you like hawks.

Derek, one side of the headphone pushed back , slowly raised an eyebrow as he exchanged a look with Emily. She barely suppressed a grin, tilting her head slightly, as if to say, Are you seeing this?

Oh, he was definitely seeing this.

They had their theories, of course. The team had always suspected there was more to you and Spencer than just friendship. It was the little things—the way he only let you touch him so easily, the way you always knew how to get him out of his head when no one else could, the way he looked at you like you’d hung the stars in the sky.

And now?

Now, with Spencer completely nestled against you, his head tucked against your shoulder, your fingers threading through his curls that could only come from familiarity?

Yeah. Their theories had just been confirmed.

Derek smirked, leaning closer to Emily. “Told you.”

Emily scoffed, but the amusement in her eyes was unmistakable. “You didn’t tell me anything, Morgan. We both knew.”

Derek chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. “Man, they really thought they were being sneaky.”

Emily grinned. “Should we say something?”

Derek considered it for a moment, watching as your fingers absentmindedly combed through Spencer’s hair, his entire body visibly at ease.

He let out a small laugh. “No. Let them have their moment.”

For now, at least.

Because later?

Oh, they were absolutely going to tease the hell out of you both.

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x you #spencer reid #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic

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tangents-within-tangents · 2 days ago

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Like fr to everyone talking about headcanons/AUs/"having fun" in the notes: the word you are looking for is REinterpretation. Not to go webster or anything but

-Interpret: explain the meaning of information, words, or actions. (explain, expound, clarify)

-Misinterpret: interpret something or someone wrongly. (misunderstand, misconstrue, mistake)

-Reinterpret: interpret something in a new or different light.

It seems in fandom spaces the word interpretation is often used at times when what they actually mean is reinterpretation (or sometimes just reaction or impression, ex: your opinion of a character is subjective and valid, but that's not the same as an interpretation).

If your "interpretation" is completely divorced from or contradicts the text, it's not an interpretation anymore. It's a reinterpretation. A reimagining. And yeah you can totally have your fun, go off! Just don't act like it IS an interpretation. Because valid interpretations come with supporting evidence, which is the whole point of the og post.

I think this bit from OP's other reblog describes it best:

this is one way it gets messy that fandom is a space for both media analysis and transformative works even though those two things don’t always co-exist comfortably or necessarily serve each other.

This is the crux. Both happen in fandom because both are a form of engaging with a work that you appreciate. But one literally relies upon analyzing what IS presented in the text, and the other upon reinventing and transforming that text (and headcanon sometimes straddles this line in between). So the important thing is recognizing the distinctions and not mixing them up. And it goes both ways:

-“He would never act that way” we know, it’s an intentional recharacterization bc we're exploring something different right now

-“But he's just a poor meow meow” not relevant right now because we're analyzing how the writing actually portrayed him

Textual evidence doesn't matter when we're just having fun and making incorrect quote memes, and headcanons don't matter when we're analyzing thematic content. The distinction helps us to have more productive conversations. And crossing the streams can sometimes take us to harmful or frustrating extremes.

To borrow an example from Rowan Ellis: You relate to a Taylor Swift song and feel seen in your queer identity? That's great, no one can stop you from experiencing the song that way even if Taylor didn't intend it. But if you turn that around and say this is proof that Taylor herself must be secretly queer, or worse that she's somehow queerbaiting? Please stop!

Another example: Someone once pulled the "we're just having fun, you can scroll past" card on me when they were straight up bashing the writing for not going the way they wanted. Please, have your fun, I won't stop you. Write a fix-it au where your blorbo comes back to life. Vive la fanfic! But when you say "the writers should have done [random specific thing] if they wanted me to believe he was truly dead" whilst blatantly misinterpreting the thing the writers did do to confirm it so it can fit into your theories/denial? That's not 'just having fun' anymore, that's flawed/unfair criticism and I'mma push back on it. (I didn't actually, just for the record)

Headcanons by definition are not canon, and I think you'll find most people are totally fine with you having whatever headcanons you want, so long as you don't start claiming that they are canon or that your way is the only way. That's where people have a problem.

But even headcanons that don't contradict canon, that could fit into ambiguous gaps where canon did not confirm or deny the possibility either way, are still headcanons. They aren't presented in the text itself and therefore not useful to analysis and criticism.

And I think this is where the distinction can feel blurry at times. Because some headcanoning is based on evidence from the source material. So some may think it's the same as media analysis, but I'd call it extrapolation rather than interpretation. It uses canon evidence in more of a imaginative/conspiracy theory/inspiration to bounce off type of way. Especially since fanon is often about filling in gaps.

Fanon focuses on the story, and treats it almost as if it and the characters are living. But media analysis relies upon treating it as media. On recognizing it was written by a person who made choices and used literary devices and elements intentionally to convey meaning (even if we can debate on what that meaning is).

Subtext is not just whatever you want to project onto a story. Subtext is an actual literary device. Meaning that is intentionally implied by the author because you shouldn't spell everything out and it's important to let the readers participate. It's what the characters aren't saying but the author is.

Unreliable narrator is also a literary device, that is intentionally crafted and indicated throughout the whole text. It's the author saying something through the character saying the opposite. It's not an excuse to ignore whatever you want to ignore of what the narrator says.

Characters aren't people and they don't actually make any choices. Everything they do, everything they are, was written and crafted by the author.

(In short, when I analyze character arcs or critique writing choices, I'd love for the discussion I get to point out things I may have overlooked or misinterpreted. Not for it to just shove in a bunch of irrelevant headcanons, character personifications, and Watsonian explanations that have nothing to do with my arguments.)

Fanon is very open-world concept (and open multiverse lol), but analysis is about looking at what the author did give you, what they chose to include or not and what it is meant to show us.

Writing is about crafting an iceberg that implies a keel under the water. Therefore analysis is about studying the iceberg to try to interpret that keel. And fanon is about exploring the whole ocean. And transformative work is about idk cutting off chunks and making ice sculptures.

All of them are very cool and fun in their own right but I think we can see how they can definitely clash and get in each other's way.

Not “Only my reading of canon is correct” or “Interpretations are subjective and all valid” but a secret third thing, “More than one interpretation can be valid but there’s a reason your English teacher had you cite quotes and examples in your papers, you have to have a strong argument that your interpretation is actually supported by the text or it is just wrong and I’m fine with telling you it’s wrong, actually.”

#lol i'm THIS close to going full folklore nerd and like writing a paper about the different functions of fandom and fanfic #bc i think the categories would be both fascinating and extremely helpful #media literacy #literary analysis #media analysis #media criticism #fanon vs canon #fandom folklore #I'd also add that misinterpretations are not always benign and can have impact #like think of “drift kirk” and what that mischaracterization has done to that character

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abyssyby · 1 day ago

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Touch, touch, touch

—every time you and sylus touch is out of necessity, until it isn’t just.

ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ: baby’s first drabble! hello! soft, yearning, aching, hand-flexing sylus has been eating away at my brain like a maggot (affectionate). here’s the first of hopefully more of whatever this is ♡ i havent written in a hot MINUTE, so feedback is super appreciated. i hope you enjoy! ❀ -urs

sylus x reader | fluff, longing, dressing wounds, dates, and touches

The hunter’s attempts at sneaking up on him amuse him and make his chest ache at the same time. It was an all-too-familiar sight— her face and her eyes watching him like a hawk’s, her motions like a wild cat’s. A knife in hand isn’t favorable, sure, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. He’s barely looking when he catches your wrist with his sturdy fingers, head gracefully turning to look at you with no trace of urgency.

“Kitten.” glowing rubies scrutinize your failed attempt at causing harm. Or a good startle. He couldn’t read if that was murder or mischief in your eyes. Either way, he liked it. “Nice try.”

𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸 ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

Always so lost when it comes to the base, Mephisto is your only friend. The halls were made to be a labyrinth to anyone who dared trespass. Only Sylus and the twins truly know the way. Sylus spent hours programming the bird to know the ins and outs of the base, so he is your beacon. But he flies quick, and after shaking him like a tambourine that one time, he doesn’t really care if he loses you.

“Shit.” you mutter, turning in a circle. A comical fork in the hall before you. You just wanted to find the library Sylus has been so proud of. You wonder how you’ll ever get there. You wonder how you’ll ever get out…

Warmth on your shoulder and a sturdy grip on your arm maneuver you towards the rightmost hallway. Sylus towers over you, unimpressed. “He went that way.”

Cheeks growing warm, you wanted to punch him— for sneaking up on you in a most idiotic state. But you thank him instead, shaking him off and stalking after the stupid bird. Maybe you’ll give him another shake for good measure.

𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

Amongst all your injuries, the broken nail on your thumb irks you the most. At least the lock is broken, and you’re safe and warm inside the safe house. The uncharacteristically charismatic safe house with leather couches, plush rugs, and a fancy fireplace. It smelled of white ginger incense and cinnamon. If you weren’t so dizzy and cold from the blood loss, you’d be living it up in this gold brick bungalow.

Slumping against the door, respectfully getting only the wood floors wet and not the carpet, you assess the situation: bruises and scrapes (no big deal), gunshot to your shoulder, bullet still lodged and bleeding slowly (not so bad), and possible concussion (maybe a little concerning), broken thumbnail (big issue).

You know exactly what you need to do. Where the first-aid kit may be, how to dig the bullet out, and what to bite on when you do it. Simple, easy, quick— as you were trained to do. A few winces and groans, and you’ll be fine. You lose a slow and steady breath. You’ll be fine…

A few minutes to rest wouldn’t be so bad. Just a few breaths, a moment to rest your eyes, to calm your heartbeat and slow the bleeding. Just a minute. Just a minute.

The click of the broken lock disengaging wakes you, sends you into a panic. How long have you been out? Instinct makes you reach, point, and cock your gun to the door— where it meets a dragon’s rock-molten glare. He scowls at you, incredulous— maybe at the blood on the polished mahogany floor, seeping between its crevices. Or at the shattered, high-end biotech door lock. Or the fact that you broke in. You have no energy to ask.

“You welcome this house’s owner by pointing a gun to his head?” he asks, but his voice carries no venom, nor does it any humor. He’s kneeling the next time you blink, hands hovering over your left shoulder. There’s something in the scrunch of his brows, the crease beneath his eyes, the short breaths he tries to hide— as if he’d been running, panicking.

“How…?”

“A safe with a broken lock tends to make itself known, sweetie.” he murmurs, too focused on all the blood. Too much to be coming from you. “Although the treasure usually doesn’t walk right in.”

He applies pressure. You groan. “What?”

“Can you stand?” he asks. You try, but at the first sign of strain on your face, he stops you and moves you himself.

He lays you by the fireplace, leaves the room to retrieve a first aid kit, and then works carefully in the dim light. He doesn’t speak a word, and you wonder if it’s because he’s mad. It is pretty shameless of you to break into his property. And you suppose pointing a gun to his head is even worse.

He shouldn’t have to do this. He shouldn’t be dirtying his hands with your mistakes, dealing with the consequences of your poor and ill-tempered decisions. Shouldn’t have to be dealing with a bloody floor and a broken lock— and it’s all your fault. Guilt, cold and sickening, bubbles up in the pit of your stomach.

But his hands are gentle and soothing. His presence, the sound of his breathing is lulling you into calm-surfaced waters with a current that runs rapidly, dangerously beneath. You hate that you want to drown.

“Sylus…” you start as he wipes his hands on his thighs, finished with stitching up your wound.

He holds out a pill. “Take this.”

You blink at him.

“Painkiller.” he nudges your hand open, and you wince as he hits your thumb. The broken nail making its presence known once more. He freezes, wondering if he’d done that. If he’d missed a broken bone. He didn’t check for sprains. He opens his mouth to say something.

But you cut him off, bringing your finger to your lips and sucking. “I broke it when I picked your lock.”

“Your finger?” he sounds mad.

“My nail.” you clarify, voice quieter now. A response at his own tone.

The cord that pulled his shoulders taut and froze his spine breaks its tension. He exhales. The rest of him follows, and with softness, he whispers. “Let me see.”

You lift your hand to him carefully, and his strong fingers wrap around the base of your thumb and your palm. He inspects it with such care you’d think it was a protocore worth his time. “Looks bad.”

“Feels bad.” You confirm, tugging at your hand. But with no real force. Maybe just to see if he would let go.

He doesn’t. In fact, he looks pained. Maybe he had been looking pained this whole time— when he cleaned your cuts, when he pulled the bullet out of your shoulder and stitched up the gaping hole. Too engrossed in your guilt, you hadn’t noticed that what you thought was anger on his face was something else entirely. Anguish. Worry. The last fraying thread of composure his sanity clings to tonight. His grasp tightens around your hand, and he cleans it with the same tenderness he gave your worse injuries.

Then he pulls your hand up to his lips. His breath ghosts over your skin, heat lacing through your veins, down your arm and pooling in the crevices of your chest. “Call me, next time. When you need help.”

He gauges your expression. He looks different here. His usual blood-cursed irises now looking like sweet, warm honey in the glow of the firelight.

“Please.” He insists, voice low and imploring. It snaps you out of your reverie, and you nod. That’s enough for him.

You spend the rest of the night talking, or at least he tries to keep you talking. You still did have a concussion after all.

𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

You shouldn’t be surprised, and yet. In the mirror, you scrutinized yourself in the dress he bought you. The shifting hues of black and red at the movement, how the gloves looked like starlight and felt like butter on your arms. How the heavy diamonds adorning your ears and your neck glimmer in the ambient light of his guest room.

There is a knock on the door and at your command, it swings open to reveal an equally stunning leader of Onychinus.

The strap of his watch catches his skin as he pushes the door open. He’s scowling at his wrist when you see him. And as he looks up, he meets your wide-eyed gaze in the mirror. There is a rupturing, caving so grand in your chest at his heated gaze. A smile he cannot help graces his dangerously, beautiful lips. “You look…”

“My dress,” you say at the same time. Desperate, quick to fill the silence that stuffed the room now that there are two people in it. Now that he— handsome and alluring— is in it. You need to get a grip. “Can—“ you pause when you realize he was speaking too. But he simply gestures for you to go on. “Can you help me?”

Sylus takes in the ask and nods. Willing the thrumming in his chest to cease and his breathing to steady as he comes up behind you. Closer and closer until you feel the heat of his fingers on your skin.

“I’m going to—“

“Go ahead.” you feel his knuckle glide up the skin of your back as he zips you up snugly in the dress. So perfectly fit, you tried to find a flaw— but there was none. The glitter didn’t scratch under your arms, the fabric didn’t itch around your waist and it draped just below your ankles. it was soft and flexible enough should you have to move more than needed during tonight’s operation, you could.

Something stirs in you that Sylus, under the guise of wanting to handle things himself, still took to account specific, necessary modifications for your comfort without you having to say a word.

“Thanks.” you say, catching the reflection of his eyes again. His own lingers on the zipper for a moment before he pulls his hands away like he’d touched fire. He grunts in reply. Whatever he came in to say was lost to him, and frankly, he had no interest in getting it back.

“Take your time.” he says instead, voice tight. Then, unable to say another word, he turns on his heel and marches out with a rigid spine and stiff shoulders. Unbeknownst to you, his ears had gone as crimson as his irises. Meanwhile, you curl in on yourself, nails digging into your arms as you drop to your ankles, willing yourself into a ball to distract from the inferno in your chest.

Good thing the dress was stretchy.

𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

“Sylus?” turning, you wonder how it was possible to lose such a tall, formidable man.

The crowd is an ocean that pulls you within its current however-much you push against. He asked you, very kindly, actually, to stay by his side— or so you recall. And yet the pastries, the trinkets, the lanterns and the small stall with the adoptable pets have charmed you like the lilt of a flute’s tune.

The Linkon plaza is never this crowded, if it weren’t for the new year festival. From his cave, you thought you’d lure him out and show him how bright and happy a celebration should be beyond the confines of the base. Sure, the lanterns are up, the gold coins are scattered, the streamers and confetti have littered the floors of the mansion (thanks to the eagerness of the twins), but being out with the people celebrating the arrival of a new year is still, you argued, different.

“I don’t need anyone else.” He’d said when you coined the idea. With his gentle look, and the hint of a challenge beneath a raised brow. You turn away before he spots the visual evidence of the prickles you feel under the flesh of your cheeks. He still does, anyway. It makes him grin.

Never truly one to deny you, he agrees on one condition: stay close. And here you are… not.

“Excuse me— sorry.” You weave through people as gently as you could, straining your neck trying to look over countless heads to find familiar moon-touched hair. A part of you itches in frustration— with his height, he should find you easily. Why wasn’t he looking for you?

The crowd spits you out by a sidewalk where children have gathered nearby to watch a puppet show. He’s impossible to miss in his red coat and bright white hair. There he stood in the back of the short crowd, watching intently as the paper dragon dances with the princess.

You wander next to him quietly, not wanting to disrupt his intrigue. There was a far-away look in his eyes that made you wonder if he was watching at all. When he flinches ever so slightly as the dragon is slain, you’re sure he is.

He feels your hand slip into his palm, and his fingers instinctively find their place between the spaces of your own. And something like freshly cooked rice or a hearty soup travels down into your chest at the feeling that this— this was right. You should have been doing this from the moment you arrived; then you wouldn’t have wandered, then you wouldn’t have strayed. You make a mental note: don’t let go.

He thinks of how well you’ve gotten at sneaking up on him.

Your grasp tightens. “There you are.”

“You left me.” he says, his voice a little raspy from underuse. Unlike yours, that has been yelling his name the moment you realized he was gone.

“No, I didn’t.” you insist, nudging him. “I just lost you for a second.”

“Felt like ages, sweetie.” he says, looking at you. He means to tease, but his words carry the weight of a lifetime.

“Sylus.” you frown. You don’t like the way his features look haunted by a specter you cannot slay. Your free hand comes to touch his face, fingers brushing just below his eye, easing lightness back beneath his skin. “I found you.”

And as if by your touch, his soul snaps into place. This one, now. Not any other life before. His brows unfurl and his distance from sea to shore recedes. A tenderness. A gratefulness. A prideful, present sort of affection. “You did.”

“Wasn’t easy.” you huff, shoulders sinking in frustration. Spreading out the tension as the air between you has gotten too thin. But your hand stays in place, curling around his jaw to stabilize itself. Your thumb has a mind of its own, rubbing the back of his hand. To ground him, you say. For him. For… you, too. “There are too many things, I got a little overwhelmed.”

He smirks, reaching up to your face and swiping his thumb over the corner of your lip. It comes away stained with blue icing. From the very cupcake that lured you away. He brings it to his lips and tastes it. “Show me.”

“Hm?” you blink, distracted at the act. The sound of your pulse muffling your ears, drowning out the droning of the crowd.

“Show me the many things.” he says again, a chuckle sanding his tone. His voice is clear as day, the only true thing you hear in the cheerful chaos of the festival. He shakes your joined hands. “I’ve got you.”

𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

thank you for reading!

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azrielbrainrot · 21 hours ago

Text

Moonlit Shadows - Act II

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Description: When tasked to find the once famed Temple of the Moon Goddess, Azriel only expected to find old forgotten ruins, if anything at all. He could have never imagined that not only would he find a temple but also someone who would change his life forever.

Tropes/Tags: Star Crossed Lovers (in a way), Forbidden Romance, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, some Angst with a Happy Ending

Warnings: hints of angst, tiny bit suggestive, making out?

Word Count: 8,7k

Rating: 18+

Notes: This part was running even longer than the first one so I split it into two parts and my plans for this story to only have 3 parts have changed into 4. I can't help myself in adding little details to this story, I love these two so much. Also just realized how long it has been since the first part, I'm so sorry for how long it took. Hope you enjoy!

Act I

It's almost unbelievable how much life can change within two weeks, to the point Azriel can hardly remember what it was like to live without a mate, without you. This is only the third time he has come to the temple after you agreed to give the bond a try, and he's already eternally glad you did. Sitting on the steps to the temple, watching the sun set over the mountain while his mate told him about her life was now a normal occurrence. He truly couldn't believe his luck.

Not even a month ago, Azriel would have spent the time he had between missions either training himself to exhaustion or simply doing some more spy work behind his High Lord's back. Every family dinner or outing was plagued by his cruel thoughts, always murmuring about his unworthiness while he watched his friends happy and in love, never allowing him a moment of reprieve. But now he got to meet his mate, talk to her for hours and learn her innermost thoughts. By the Mother, he was even contemplating asking Rhys for some time off for the first time in his life so he could see you more often.

“It's impossible to get tired of this view,” you murmur, taking in the barely visible sun rays as the sky turns different shades of pink and orange. As cliché as it sounds, Azriel thought the same thing as he watched you.

He manages to drag his eyes away from your beautiful, peaceful face, studying the view you'd shared with him. You were right, this view could easily rival Velaris at night. Since the temple sat at the top of the mountain, you could see the entire forest from here, and, as beautiful as the sunset had been, he knows the moonlight brings out the true beauty of this place, and yours as well. It's almost unbelievable how you could become even more captivating than you already were, he could hardly take his eyes off you when the moon rays were shining down on you, reflecting on your white hair and adding an even more intense twinkle to your white, silvery eyes.

“How long have you been living here?”

“Almost four hundred years,” you say, nibbling on the biscuits the temple provided at the wave of your hand. He had learned the temple shared a similar spell to the House of Wind and Rhys' cabin. “I was almost thirty when I came.”

The thought of you locked in this temple for that long brings up memories of the dark cell his father kept him in when he was a child, but he tries to shake them away quickly. You were here of your own free will, and as far as he could tell you rather enjoyed living in the temple. This place couldn't be compared to the cell he'd been in any way.

He hopes you didn't catch where his thoughts went, this bond is hard to control most of the time and feelings often filter through unattended. It's because of the feelings the bond brings up that he often finds himself thinking of those moments he has been trying to forget for centuries as well. It almost feels like the bond is prying open everything he has kept locked away, wanting to lay him bare before his mate.

Still, it was hard to believe that you would be completely satisfied living hidden away, no matter how shiny your cage or how fulfilling your role in the temple was. He enjoys his quiet time a lot more than the average person, something even his family doesn't understand at times, but he can't imagine what it's like to live alone for centuries, with no one's company but your own. Azriel couldn't have survived with only his thoughts as company, not when his mind is such an ugly place, even his duty wouldn't keep him alive then.

You smile up at him before he has the chance to put his worries into the right words. “I know what you're thinking. It gets lonely up here, I can't deny that, and I know I've missed a lot of experiences over the course of my life, some that I might never get the chance to relive, but I've always been happy up here.”

“Do you have any family left? Friends?”

“No. Any friends I had before coming here have probably long forgotten about me, some might not even be alive anymore,” you look at him then, hesitation making itself known in your tone and mannerisms. He might have overstepped without meaning to.

“My parents passed away a few decades ago. They came to visit me as much as they could, and we'd send each other letters every few weeks. They came by to spend every Solstice and birthday with me.” You let out a small laugh, “Once they had a little fight and my mom just showed up here with a bag full of clothes and a couple boxes of cupcakes.” You look down at your hands, a lump forming in your throat, “They're the ones I miss the most.”

“I'm sorry.”

There was a tight feeling coiling around his chest, but he can't quite pinpoint if it was his own response to you being sad or if your feelings were bleeding into his own. All he knew is that he wanted to put a smile back on your face.

“It's okay. They were both close to a millennia old and lived their life to the fullest. I would have liked to be with them in their final moments, but it wouldn't have changed anything.”

“Is it really impossible for you to leave? Even at times like those?”

You clear your throat, trying to get rid of the emotion talking about your parents' deaths evoked. “Yes, being bound to the temple is part of the oath I made. I'm not entirely sure what would happen if I actually managed to break the wards, but I would lose my powers and wouldn't be able to come back at the very least.”

The emphasis you put into the final words told him you thought more would happen. Breaking an oath with a God could very well be fatal, since even a regular bargain made between fae can take someone's life if not fulfilled. He feels a string tightening around his heart as it usually does when he's reminded of your predicament. You will never leave this temple, and, as much as he wants to respect your wishes, he can't help but mourn what your life could have been, what the two of you could have been. There's so much he wishes he could show you, beautiful places he wants to take you to, and people he wishes you could meet.

“There were times when it was hard to be stuck here.” Your voice breaks him out of his thoughts, finding you've turned around, sitting cross-legged as you face him. “Obviously it was hard when my parents died, though the Goddess allowed their ashes to be brought to me so I could scatter them on this mountain,” your eyes travel to his wings, lingering on a few scars that will never leave the leathery skin, “I think it was even harder to bear when Amarantha came into Prythian and imprisoned the High Lords, and then when the war with Hybern broke out.”

You let silence fall between you for a few moments, eyes falling down onto your hands, kneading your left palm with your thumb as the first rays of moonlight made the aura around you more noticeable, a faint white light glowing around your entire body. He hopes it's not sacrilegious to think so, but you truly looked like a Goddess in this moment. His eyes fall onto your hands as well, debating on reaching to hold them in his warm ones when you resume your explanation.

“This power the Goddess shared with me has made me very strong, enough so that She leaves the protection of the temple entirely to me, but the biggest downside is that I can't help outside these wards,” you look up into his eyes then, regret lacing into your words, “I could have helped you. If the oath that gave me these powers didn't include staying in this temple, I could have tried to placate Amarantha before she could take everyone Under the Mountain, or at the very least fight alongside you during the war. A lot of people wouldn't have lost their lives if I could have helped.”

He understands what you mean, he has fought even while injured multiple times, during this war even, not willing to stop when he knows he can help even if it cost him his life, so he knows that watching from afar knowing you could have made a difference had to have been extremely frustrating, but he also can't help but feel selfishly glad you weren't there. The war had been bloody and cruel, if he could he would shield you from that sight if it was the last thing he did.

“You said it was Fate that decided you were supposed to live in this temple and protect it, right?” You nod, confusion written on your face. “Then it wasn't your place to be in the war. The temple was written into your life, and the war was written into ours. There's nothing we can do to change our fate.”

He seems to have said the right thing as you watch his face, the pained expression you previously wore slowly being replaced with a happier one, a smile even making its way into your lips, not quite as bright as before but a good start nonetheless.

“I still wish I could have gone,” you say, a twinkle in your eye, “maybe then you would have been written into my life sooner.”

Azriel had never found himself blushing as often as he does when he's around you in the five hundred years he's been alive. The worst part is it seems like you're not doing it on purpose. You keep complimenting him, showing him how much you enjoy having him in your life effortlessly, as if it's simply in your nature. Still, he can clearly see how much you enjoy the fact that you can bring him to this state so easily, a proud expression obvious on your face as you watch color take over the tips of his ears. Luckily for him, it's extremely easy to turn you into a bashful mess as well.

He shifts his weight onto his palm, leaning closer to you, a swift and fast movement, that of a trained soldier. Your sweet, intoxicating scent assaults him instantly, images of how he would let it intertwine with his own invading his mind for a treacherous moment - the mating bond seldom lets him have a moment of peace. Your breath hitches under his attention, wide eyes locked onto his.

“We've been written into each other's lives from the moment we were born, before our world was created even.” Your eyes travel down to his lips for a beat, the movement was quick enough that he might have mistaken it if it weren't for your proximity. It brings a satisfied smile to his lips as he adds, “whether at the temple or on that battlefield I would have found my way to you. That I can promise you.”

The reaction you give him is nothing short of delicious. Mouth slightly agape as you struggle to maintain eye contact at his confession, the wild rhythm of your heartbeat ringing in his ears and down the bond. He decides to push his luck a bit and test the waters, leaning even closer, enough so that your warm breath meets his skin, eyes dropping to your lips before stealing a cookie from the plate that sat beside you, straightening up as he brings it to his mouth, giving you space once more. He can't help the smile from growing when he hears your intake of breath, eyes dropping to your lap and hands smoothing down your skirt as you try to regain composure.

On one hand, he almost feels bad for teasing you like this, knowing there's a big difference in how you have both led your lives up to this point, even if you're relatively close in age. He would also hate to make you feel actually uncomfortable in any way. But, on the other hand, he wants nothing more than to whisper the most depraved things he wants to do to you so he can watch desire take over your face, so he can erase any semblance of innocence away. Although knowing exactly how experienced or not you are will end up being pertinent information if you both choose to keep chasing this bond, Azriel decides to take mercy on you tonight and change the subject.

“What was your life like before coming here?”

Looking up at him with tinted cheeks and wide eyes, you blink a few times, taking you a moment to answer, probably not expecting him to ask you a question so soon or too lost in your thoughts - he briefly wonders if they're any similar to his. Azriel can almost feel the bond purring, that ancient, inexplicable tether delighted at both your reaction and his playfulness, at your closeness.

“I'd say I used to live a pretty normal life,” you start, focusing on his shadows as they played over the steps, still too embarrassed to keep his gaze, “I used to live in a fairly small town, one of those where everyone knows each other and nothing too exciting ever happens,” a nostalgic smile takes over your lips, remembering your childhood. Azriel wishes he could take you back there, have you show him around the place where you grew up.

“My parents owned a small bakery so I helped them around before coming here. I liked baking with them, I wasn't too bad at it either, though the early schedule wasn't my favorite, I always liked sleeping in.” You seem lost in thought for a moment before shrugging and continuing, “Outside of that I had a few friends and a couple of lovers… nothing special.”

Azriel tries to ignore the sick twist of jealousy he feels at the mention of past lovers, knowing it's completely unfair to you, and irrelevant to your relationship now, but that damned bond doesn't know the first thing about rationality. Rhysand wasn't kidding when he said the mating bond grates, at times it was almost suffocating.

“One of the things I miss the most from those times are my parents' pastries,” you pout slightly, a playful glint in your eyes, “I may be biased but they were delicious.”

“It might not be the same, but I can bring you some from Velaris,” he offers. “The bakeries in town are always putting out new delicious things. I'm sure you would love them.”

“I'd like that very much, Azriel,” you say, that blinding smile he loves so much returning to your lips, a smile of his own mirroring yours. His name sounds like heaven, hell, and everything in between falling from your lips.

“Next time I'll bring you some of my favorites,” he pauses, a thought occurring to him as he tilts his head, “Actually, I don't have too much of a sweet tooth so I'll bring you Cassian's favorites instead. I think you would much prefer the chocolate covered cakes he likes to eat than my lemon tarts.”

“It's a deal then,” you nod at him, extending your hand for him to take, Azriel doesn't resist even for a second, letting you shake his hand as if you were in fact making a business transaction. “And if you come empty-handed I might put in a word with the Goddess and not let you in.” He lets out a chuckle, squeezing your hand before reluctantly letting go, missing the warmth of your palm against his immediately. To think there would come a day where he would actually want someone to keep holding his hand.

“You can bring some of your lemon tarts too, I want to try what you like first,” you tilt your head, “but you're right, my favorite is always chocolate.”

Azriel chuckles, “Both it is.”

The rest of your time together is spent much like this, talking for hours about any and everything. By the time he forces himself to tell you he needs to go back to Velaris, the moon was already ready to make its way for the sun once more, and your eyelids were significantly heavier, trying your hardest to ignore your fatigue in favor of staying with him for as long as possible.

He never knows what to do or say when it's time to say goodbye to you. It's abundantly clear that neither of you want him to leave. There's also always a part of him that fears he won't be able to come back, that for whatever reason the Goddess decides he's not in need of the temple anymore and the wards keep him out of your reach.

Aside from that, your relationship has been walking the line between platonic and romantic from the first day. You wanted to keep your heart and his as safe as possible given the entire situation. He couldn't fault you for that, but that meant you were stuck acting like friends, as if a mating bond wasn't connecting your bodies and souls, and because of it Azriel couldn't grab your cheeks and kiss you like he's been desperately dreaming of, even though your eyes find themselves entranced by his lips as often as the other way around.

As he gets lost in thought, wondering how your lips would taste, your eyes drop to his shadows, unaware of it all. Dark wisps moving from his own natural shadow cast by the moonlight to yours, some of the bravest, more disobedient ones even swirling up to your ankles tentatively. At least they were still being respectful.

“They like me,” you smile brightly down at them.

Like is not a strong enough word to describe his shadows' feelings when it comes to you. At times it's even hard to make them focus on their job as they sit and wonder what you're up to in the temple. Part of this might be his fault since he has always used them to spy on anyone he needed to, and now he's finding it hard to explain to these beings, who struggle with social cues as it is, that spying is a breach of privacy, something he only does because it's his job, and the last thing he would ever do to you, so they can't go and check on you simply because he misses you every second of the day.

Apart from that they've also taken to giving him romantic advice - which has been disturbing to say the least, - whispering words into his ear that they think you would like to hear, trying to guide him to the flowers or pastries they somehow know you prefer as he passes by the market street, even pushing him to sing to you. They go as far as trying to convey their own feelings to you through him, whispering praises in his ear, and in turn making the bond inside him wish he could send his own shadows on a trip to the bottom of the ocean never to return.

“Yes, I think they do,” he says defeatedly as he watches one of his impertinent shadows travel up to your hand, swirling around it as you bring it up closer to your face for inspection. He can't wait to hear how delighted it is of gaining your attention.

“Shouldn't they hide from the light?”

Azriel takes a step closer, holding your hand and ordering the shadows to cross over to his body so he can have this moment with you. Raising his hand up to your cheek, scarred thumb caressing your soft skin as he murmurs, “Not from yours.”

The irony of his mate being someone who quite literally glowed in the dark wasn't lost on him. For some reason, the fact only further proved you were made for each other in his mind. It's almost like the Mother was telling him that no matter how dark his soul was, it would never diminish your light as it glowed ever eternal alongside your Goddess.

“I really have to go now.”

It pains him to say it, but he's already going to be late and that'll raise questions he's been trying very hard to avoid. It was enough of a miracle that Rhys hadn't told anyone - outside of Feyre of course - that Azriel had found his mate, and he would like to keep it that way for as long as possible. They would ask him too many questions he wouldn't know how to answer, and, admittedly, he also wants to avoid the teasing comments while the bond is so fresh - nothing good can come out of giving Cassian and Nesta a way to make him blush with only a couple of words.

“Alright,” you smile up at him, but it doesn't reach your eyes. Every time he has to leave you behind, he considers giving up everything and moving to this temple with you.

You raise on your tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek, his eyes closing as a shudder runs through him, wings coiling tighter into his back. His other hand comes up to the other side of your face, his lips falling upon your forehead as a wave of satisfaction rushes his side of the bond. Both of your hearts beating wildly as he steps away slowly and starts walking closer to the edge of the stairs.

“I'll come back as soon as possible,” he promises one more time before taking flight.

“I know, Azriel. I'll be waiting.”

⭒.˚ ☾⭒.˚

The unmistakable feeling of someone passing through the barrier rushes over you, sending your heart racing immediately. For a moment you think it's Azriel coming by unannounced, a smile breaking out on your lips as you get up to your feet, but a quick look into the bond that lays dormant inside you is enough to tell you he's still in Velaris, far away from the temple.

Your smile drops and a wave of sadness washes over you, freezing you in place, heart dropping at the reminder of the distance that lays between you and your mate, of the days you'll still have to endure alone before his next visit.

You feel movement again, now closer to the top steps, and shake yourself out of unwanted thoughts, pushing them all to the back of your mind as you shake any stray cookie crumbs from your trousers. If it isn't Azriel coming to see you then it's definitely someone coming to visit the temple, and you have a duty to fulfill.

It's only been a few weeks since Azriel first came looking for the temple, you've never had visitors showing up so close together. They're usually few and far in between, leaving you on your own atop the mountain for years at a time as the rumors about the temple die off among most of the population. The prospect of seeing someone again so soon has excitement rushing through your veins, completely overshadowing the solemn feelings from before.

You walk to the mirror, quickly checking your appearance before winnowing straight to the top of the stairs, catching your new visitor by surprise as she walks towards the temple slowly. The gasp she lets out when she spots you waiting for her brings a bigger smile to your lips, making you almost giddy as you cross your hands behind your back.

“Welcome to the Temple of the Moon. I'm the keeper and sole habitant of this temple and I've been tasked to keep it safe from any possible threats as well as helping anyone the Goddess deems worthy of being shown the way, just like you have.”

The well rehearsed speech comes to you naturally, the words flowing effortlessly from your mouth as you take in your visitor's wonder, curious eyes taking in the beautiful place. Of course she didn't have any speech rehearsed but it might as well have been since her next words mirror everyone else's when they arrive.

“I never knew there was a temple here,” the awe in her face brings you the usual sense of pride.

“It's a bit of a secret,” you wink at her, walking closer to the temple, motioning with your hand for her to follow you.

“My grandmother used to say these mountains were the most beautiful place in Prythian so I wanted to spread her ashes here, but I always thought she meant the actual mountains,” she muses. “This place is breathtaking.”

“The temple is hidden behind a powerful spell. I'm afraid when talking about this day your memories will be somewhat limited,” you explain softly as you lead her to the gardens in the back, the perfect view for her grandmother's final resting place.

As you go through the usual explanation, you realize you truly skipped most of it when it came to Azriel's first visit, though you still think you did better than expected given the circumstances. It's easy to forget your own name or any rehearsed speeches when you find yourself face to face with your mate.

The rest of the visit goes by fairly quickly. You lead her to the gardens and let her choose the perfect place among the flowers and trees, helping her spread the ashes as instructed, saying a quick prayer and then allowing her a moment to grieve, standing off to the side while still keeping a watchful eye over everything.

You can't help but let your eyes wander to the spot where you had spread your parents' ashes, the tears lining the young fae's eyes reminding you of the countless ones you had spilled as you went through the same. Over the years you've grown somewhat accustomed to their absence, - never fully, you've long since accepted that would be impossible, - but recent events have made you bitterly aware of it.

You wished you could tell your parents you had found your mate, would give anything to feel the anxiety of introducing them to Azriel. Now you can only imagine nervously writing them a letter, telling them all about the charming fae the Mother had chosen for you. They would show up at the temple the next day, not even the Goddess would be able to keep your mother from meeting her daughter's fated mate. Gods, they would have loved him.

A weak sigh escapes you. Nothing could take away the pain of losing a loved one, but you hope that the thought that her grandmother now lies within the temple's walls will lessen her grief even if just for a moment.

It's time to accompany her back to the stairs in no time, her tearful thanks and goodbyes echoing over the entrance hall. Watching the young fae descend the steps brings you a sense of accomplishment as usual, but this time there's an annoyingly acute emptiness growing inside you, tainting it.

Most visitors don't linger in the temple, only getting what they came for before going on their way, before going back to their busy lives, but as you watch her disappear between the trees, you're left wishing she would have stayed longer, sat with you and talked for a moment.

It wouldn't be fair not to acknowledge that this feeling had always manifested inside you after every visit you've received over the centuries, especially back when your parents were the ones stopping by and leaving you with hesitant glances over their shoulders, but you know that it had only grown more noticeable after Azriel first arrived.

Becoming familiar with someone's presence once again had made you more aware of your situation, more aware of just how many words and thoughts you had been keeping to yourself in your years of seclusion. It reminded you of how alone you truly were up in this temple. Before, the silence had been part of your routine, something you had no problem falling back onto after the rare visitor came and disturbed it. Now it felt like a consistently harder task, the silence ringing too loud in your ears, making you too aware of the echo that followed your footsteps.

Sitting down on the first step, you let out a sigh from deep in your chest, stretching your legs out, only noticing then that you had not changed out of your slippers in your rush earlier. It's a shame, you only really wear your nicer shoes when you have guests, which even with Azriel's more regular visits doesn't happen nearly often enough.

You feel yet another stab through your heart when you realize your first instinct is wanting to share the news with your mate, tell him about your visitor and your silly mistake, tell him how it reminded you of your parents and maybe even confide in him how lonely it all had made you feel.

You've been alone for so long that you had forgotten what wanting to share every exciting thing that happens with someone felt like. What is quickly becoming a familiar ache settles over you at the cold reminder that Azriel isn't within your reach. You'll have to wait until he visits again to share these news with him and see the smile on his face.

It's been over a week since he last came by, which wouldn't be much time at all if he weren't your mate and you couldn't feel him through the bond, so close but so far away. He warned you he would be busy with an assignment, even promised he would make it up to you when he was finished with it, but you can't rationalize how much you miss him or how much you wish he was by your side, and so you keep sitting on those steps well into the night, waiting for someone who isn't coming.

⭒.˚ ☾⭒.˚

With delectable excitement running through his veins, the kind that only you could bring out of him, Azriel takes one last look in the mirror, fixing his shirt and running his fingers through his hair, making sure everything looks perfect and in place before entrusting yet another box of pastries to his shadows. He has been on the hunt for the best chocolate cookies in Velaris ever since you told him they were your favorite, but he also can't stop himself from trying to spoil you in any way he can.

It's been over a week since he last saw you, and Azriel has been counting down the days for your next meeting ever since he left your side. He couldn't help but feel uncharacteristically annoyed whenever he remembered the mission that ended up keeping him away from home, and in turn from you, for several days. Deep down he knew Rhys had actually been giving him more free time to go visit you than he usually would have in other circumstances, even covering for him when he disappeared for hours on end so the others didn't find it too suspicious. Unfortunately, the bond often spoke louder, and with it came a moodiness that Azriel only felt lifting up earlier today, when he started getting ready to see you.

He makes his way downstairs, already worrying about how the flight will mess up the hair he had just been combing through so carefully. If it weren't for the wards surrounding the House of Wind, he would have winnowed straight to the temple.

“You took a bath.”

A voice coming from the sitting room calls after him, effectively stopping him in his tracks, shadows crawling up his tense body. He curses himself, some spymaster he was, so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't even notice he had company nor the forethought to avoid it. It seems he won't be able to leave without anyone noticing after all.

Azriel hesitates for a moment, unwilling to linger and lose even a second of precious time with his mate. Leaving would only make him appear more suspicious though, so he takes a couple steps into the room instead, finding the oldest and the youngest Archeron sisters looking back at him with amusement written in their eyes.

“I bathe.”

“You don't usually use any of the smelling washes.” Nesta's tone sounds nothing short of accusatory, glancing at Feyre while she talks as if trying to prove a point. “Not since recently at least.”

Azriel was never one to overthink about his appearance, perfectly content with keeping things simple, so it really doesn't come as a surprise that his best friend would notice his newly found appreciation for it. He had also not only accepted a few of Mor's invites to go shopping but also started using the clothes, fragrances and even accessories her and Rhys had gifted him over the years - something that unfortunately the High Lord had picked up on too and teased him relentlessly for whenever they were alone.

And, even in his recent distracted state, he would have to be a fool not to notice Nesta's curiosity towards his whereabouts and sudden mood changes. She has even been asking him about his missions, feigning interest in his spymaster duties just so she can catch him in a lie, knowing he would never dress like this to go spy on their enemies.

“Are you suggesting I smell, Nesta?”

“No, you smell amazing,” she clarifies quickly, sounding so sincere that he feels the corner of his mouth twitch up. Now he almost wishes Cassian was here.

“Then what's the problem?”

Knowing Feyre as well he does, it's extremely commendable that she's managing to keep quiet through this whole conversation, even more so that she hasn't said anything when Nesta surely came asking her what she knew. It also sends a certain warmth through him that she's going against her instincts to keep his secret - even though she and Rhysand have probably been gossiping about him every chance they get.

“There's no problem. I'm simply curious,” she says, clearing her throat before adding with a wicked glint in her eye, “you can't tell me you used your best smelling cologne to go on a mission.”

“I didn't say I was going on a mission,” he says, humoring her for a bit.

As amusing as this unexpected back and forth was turning out to be, it was, at the same time, stealing some of the precious time he had with you. He should have already made it out of Velaris, over the mountains where he would winnow straight to you.

“Then where are you going, if you don't mind me asking?”

“I'm going to have dinner with my mother,” Azriel offers, tone not wavering around the lie even for a moment.

“Oh.”

He feels a little bad for lying, especially since he's using his mother of all people as an excuse, but he knows that if he explained the situation to her she wouldn't mind at all. In fact, this reminded him to make some time to visit his mom, not only had it been quite a while since he last went, but he also wanted to tell her all about you.

Hiding the truth from Nesta and the rest of his family wasn't something he was content with either. Azriel knows they would all be overjoyed with the fact that he had found his Mother blessed mate, but he wanted to make sense of the situation before telling them. As things stand you're simply his friend, even with the shimmering bond between you, and you're still up in your temple, far away from everyone. He wouldn't even be able to properly explain the situation or his feelings on it, Gods know he tries whenever Rhys asks. He probably wouldn't even be able to take them to meet you.

Talking to his mother was always easier though. She never expected answers or explanations, she truly only wanted him to be happy. He can imagine the load off her shoulders it would be to find out her son had found a mate. Yes, he needs to make time to tell her, if no one else.

“I hope you have a lovely dinner, Az,” Feyre says, hiding a knowing smile behind her teacup, apparently not helping herself in at least getting a word in.

“Yes, I hope it all goes well,” Nesta adds, recovering rather quickly, the glint returning to her eyes as she likely reminds herself that one dinner with his mother doesn't explain all his strange recent behavior. Maybe he could still make a spy out of her, she's definitely determined.

Azriel simply nods and bids them a quick goodbye, doing his best to walk at a normal place to the front door, a relieved sigh escaping him when he shoots up into the air, passing the wards keeping the House of Wind safe, feeling himself get engulfed by his shadows as they take him closer to you.

⭒.˚ ☾⭒.˚

“When you first showed up I thought you weren't a good flier,” you reminisce, leaning back further into the cushions propped at your back, a smile playing at your lips. “Or that maybe you were still young.”

Azriel's gaze darts around the library at your words, a breath escaping him before his beautiful hazel eyes meet yours once again. Biting your lip, you try to stop your smile from growing as you watch a flush traveling across his skin, crawling up his delectable neck until his rounded ears become tinted with a pinkish color.

“My wings froze in place,” he admits with a soft smile of his own. “It's a miracle I landed on my feet at all.”

A giggle escapes you then, followed by a breathy chuckle from him, remembering the way his knees had buckled under his weight, how your own felt equally as weak in the face of the all-consuming mating bond. The sound echoes around the library for a moment, carrying around the bookshelves and artifacts laying about, a delighted sound that these walls have not been privy to too often, so used to the silence as they were, as you were.

This was the first time you've brought him into the library since his first visit and the initial tour of the temple you had given him. You usually stay outside whenever Azriel comes to visit, either sitting by the steps watching the moon and the stars, or in the garden, on a bench by the flowers; under a tree, taking advantage of the soft grass that grows here with the Goddess' blessing. But as time passes and his visits become more frequent, you suddenly felt the urge to show him different parts of the temple, to have these little dates - if you could even call them that - in different places to make up for the fact that you couldn't leave the temple's grounds. The light rain that fell today, signaling the end of summer, had been the perfect opportunity.

What you didn't expect was for it to feel so much more intimate. It shouldn't have come as a surprise honestly, this is your house after all and even if he had been here multiple times he had never really lingered inside so now bringing him to the room you spend most of your days in feels different, it made your heart beat faster as soon as he walked in, the bond screaming in elation when he sat in the sofa you're curled in almost every day, taking his place by your side. You don't think you'll ever be able to sit here without this image popping up into your mind.

“I think you did good under the circumstances,” you offer, hand twitching at your side, wanting to reach out and touch the flush covering his cheek, reaching for another cookie instead to keep your treacherous fingers occupied.

Azriel had made good on his promise to bring you every pastry and sweet from Velaris, never arriving at the temple without carrying something delicious within his shadows. Today he brought you various cookies of different shapes, sizes and flavors. They were all delicious, their rich taste blooming in your mouth when you bit into them, but it seems he overestimates just how much you can eat, especially since he barely helps you at all - you swear you've only seen him eat one singular cookie since you opened this box.

“It sounds like you're just saying that to make me feel better.” You shake your head in denial, you really weren't, but he continues before you can say anything else. “Us Illyrians take a lot of pride in our flying abilities, you know? I'm not sure I can let this go so easily.” The teasing smile that blooms on his face is completely mesmerizing, it almost makes you forget yourself. “You'll have to let me show you.”

It takes you a moment too long to process his words, your silver eyes too caught up on his inviting lips to pay any attention to what he said. You'd like to blame these moments where your thoughts stray when you look at Azriel on the bond, but you're not so sure it was all its doing. If he notices he doesn't let it show, allowing you to meet his eyes again like nothing had happened.

“You want to take me flying?”

“If you let me,” he murmurs softly. The excitement written in his eyes was contagious, and if you didn't know any better you'd say he had been waiting on a chance to ask you.

You'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought of the possibility ever since you first laid eyes on Azriel. You had never seen a winged fae before so flying always seemed like a childish dream, but now you couldn't help feeling a hint of wistfulness every time you saw him land swiftly on top of the steps. Who wouldn't want to fly? The thought of the wind caressing your skin as you cut through the clouds sounded heavenly, not to mention Azriel's arms wrapped around you as he held you against him. The thought summons warmth to your chest, and lower.

“I'd like that,” you say, “but I'm not sure if it will work because of my oath. We would not be able to go far.”

“Around the temple should be fine, right?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“It's a promise then,” he smiles brightly down at you. “Next time I'll take you flying. I would take you right now but it's still raining.”

“Do you know when the next time will be?”

The words escape you before your brain catches up to them. The way his smile falters, and some of his shadows rush to him from where they had been lazily swirling around the library makes you want to take them back immediately. You know they do that when he's upset or sad, something you rarely see when he comes to the temple. The thought that you were the one to make him so makes you want to rip out your heart and beg for his forgiveness.

“I'm only curious. I didn't mean anything by it,” you rush to explain, the last thing you wanted was for him to think you blamed him, or expected more of him. Azriel had been nothing short of perfect and understanding given your limitations.

“I would come every day if I could.”

“I know, Azriel.” You can hear the longing in his voice, filtering in through the bond as well, even if he tries to hide it. “I would go to you if I could too.”

Thankfully this brings the smile back to his lips, even if still somewhat overshadowed by the reality of your relationship. You've noticed Azriel has a hard time believing he's wanted, and you probably only make it worse since you have not accepted the bond.

“I'm not sure when the next time will be. I should be free in a couple of days, but if Rhys and Feyre need me in the meantime it might be longer, and I don't want to keep your hopes up if I might not be able to show up after all,” he explains as he reaches out for your hand tentatively, holding it delicately in his as his thumb starts drawing circles over your open palm, sending a tingling feeling shooting up your arm and straight to your chest. Shouldn't you be the one comforting him?

“I'll be here waiting either way, Azriel. I don't want you to neglect your work because of me,” you say, squeezing his hand, holding it tighter in yours.

“I'm not. There's no immediate threats on the court so things have been relatively calm, and I think I've earned some time off for all the years I worked without it.” The two of you were similar in a lot of ways, how focused you could be on your work and loyal to your duty was one of them. “Rhys has been easier on me too,” he adds.

“Does he know?”

“Since the first night,” Azriel nods, “I tried to hide it but he saw right through me. I haven't told anyone else though.”

You frown softly as his words settle between you, biting your lip softly and hopefully hiding it before he notices. You didn't know how to feel about Azriel having to hide you from his family, having to sneak around whenever he visits you. The way your chest constricted as soon as the words left his mouth told you what the bond felt immediately though. Your eyes drop to your still intertwined hands, the sight making your heart flutter despite your inner turmoil.

A mating bond was an extremely rare and beautiful thing, something you would be proud to tell your friends and family all about, the whole world even, but you can't blame him for not telling them anything when there's no guarantee this will work, when you made it clear from the first day that you didn't think it would work. All he had to do was explain the situation for the expected congratulations and joyous smiles to turn into pity and sympathetic words instead.

“I'm sorry.”

Now it was Azriel's turn to frown, leaning closer to you and squeezing your hand, trying to meet your eyes as you focused on his hand, on the shimmering silver string that kept you eternally bound to each other.

“What are you sorry for?”

“It's my fault you have to hide it.”

“Of course not-”

You cut him off with a shake of your head, tugging on his hand. You were tired of him making excuses for you, of acting like nothing was wrong. If his mate were anyone else, he would have probably at least started dating them regularly by now, might have even already accepted the bond.

“I need you to know,” you look up at him, forcing yourself to keep eye contact with every word even when it becomes too much to bear, “if it weren't for the oath I made and if I could leave the temple, if we could live a normal life, I would accept the bond in a heartbeat.”

You can't quite read the expression that falls over his face, and your nerves are making it impossible to keep a cool head. As the silence stretches on, his hand frozen in yours and his hazel eyes staring right into your soul with unwavering intensity, your heart starts beating extremely loud, pouding at your eardrums as the thought that you said the wrong thing invades your mind.

“Azriel-”

“Can I kiss you?”

“What?”

“Please,” he breathes out, a desperately needy sound coming from deep in his chest. Scarred hands come up to hold your cheeks as he leans down, touching his forehead to yours, hazel eyes closing. “I really want to kiss you.”

You're unsure why he thought you could ever deny him such a request. Leaning in the rest of the way, your lips find his in a soft kiss before you lose your courage. It had been entirely too long since you've felt someone's lips on yours and the fact that it was Azriel, your mate, only made the fire starting inside you burn brighter.

A moan crawls up your throat before you even have a chance to think to keep it down. Azriel swallows it gladly, offering you a deep, satisfied groan of his own as the kiss turns more desperate. All the want you've both tried to keep locked away rising up uninterrupted as teeth and tongues clash, your hands tugging at his soft hair while his fall to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

You have no idea how long you're tangled up in each other, the world falling silent while his hands roam your body, but by the time your mind finally clears and you manage to get a grasp on your instincts and on the bond, you find yourself straddling his lap, your dress pushed up to your hips and his shirt half unbuttoned.

Your entire body was glued to him. You could feel every breath he took, the low purring in his chest rumbling against yours, and the evidence of just how much he wanted you pressing against your core. It's as if you had been trying to crawl under his skin, maybe you were, it's not like that would be enough.

Even as you pull apart, chests rising and falling together as you catch your breaths, you don't move away from him, your eyes still closed as you keep your foreheads pressed together. You think it might be impossible to, just the thought makes you want to chain yourself to him, the bond making it difficult to even think at how adamant it is on you keeping your mate as close as possible.

Azriel seems to be of the same mind as he lets out a soft groan, strong arms tightening around you, the sweet pressure pushing an embarrassingly needy and breathy moan past your lips. He leans into your neck, a shiver running through his body as he takes in your scent, the way it deepened with arousal and mixes in with his sending his mind into a frenzy the same way it does yours. If anyone were to walk into this room, they wouldn't be able to tell them apart at all, there wouldn't be any doubts that you were his.

You feel him drop an otherwise chaste kiss to the overheated and sensitive skin of your neck, the way his body tenses at the harsh breath you take in telling you he wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth into it instead. With how out of practice and needy you are at this moment, you think you'd come undone on his lap if he did, the thought sobering you somewhat.

Calling his name softly, surprised by how breathy and undeniably affected your own voice is, you wait for him to gather his own thoughts, abandoning your neck reluctantly, his half-lidded and blown out hazel eyes meeting yours. You know mating bonds are a lot harder to manage for the males so you can't even imagine what is going through his mind, how hard he has to hold himself back from claiming you as his own when you're soaked and pliable on top of him.

Even though you were the one who called his name, you find yourself at a loss for words in the face of his desire. You don't want to tell him to stop and you don't want to move away from him, but you have to, you both know that. And so you kiss him again instead, softly, apologetically.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel acotar #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fic #azriel fluff #my writing

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lavenderprose · 3 days ago

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At some point, for some reason, Rook had misinterpreted the term 'letters'.

Perhaps it was because Bellara had said it so breathlessly--though Bellara says lots of things breathlessly, given she speaks at about the speed of magic itself. Perhaps it was the smile she'd used when she said 'the Professor'. But Bellara smiles most of the time. In the end it doesn't matter how it happened. The result was the same: Rook heard Bellara talk about these letters, this necromancer she was writing to, and figured they were passing love letters. Odd, very lingo-heavy love letters that contained a lot of side conversation about magical artifacts and the stability of the Veil, but love letters nonetheless.

Rook meets Emmrich and hears him call Bellara 'dear' and knows it must be true. Rook also meets Emmrich and wants to climb him like a tree, but she's always been into that kind of academic, willowy, never-met-the-sun kind of look. Necromancers. Rook's always been into necromancers. She is one. It's pretty normal.

"You must be excited to finally meet him in person," Rook says to Bellara while they're following Emmrich through the Shrouded Halls. Emmrich extols the wonder of life and death in between completely demolishing Venatori in a way that feels bone-shatteringly powerful.

"Oh yeah," Bellara says, and grins. "Arlathan is pretty far from Nevarra, so I didn't think we'd ever actually meet, but it's pretty cool that we did! Professor Emmrich is really knowledgeable, not just about the Fade, but music and art and--"

"Hmm neat!" Rook says, instead of Alright girl keep it in your pants because she actually really likes Bellara and she can't blame her. Emmrich Volkarin is six-foot-three, hazel-eyed and has a voice like candlelit red wine. He'd be a dream come true for any young mage with a little too much to say and a few too many nights alone in their recent past.

Of which there are two in the room.

Anyway.

It's not a big deal. The others don't really seem fussed over the fact that Bellara has brought her sneaky link into the fold and Emmrich is bonkers capable, so it doesn't really matter whether or not he's sourced from some horny letters. He also comes highly recommended from the Mourn Watch, and that's enough for Rook.

They keep things pretty subtle too. Rook never sees them kiss or even really touch, and Bellara seems too busy with the archive spirit to do much other than tinker with it outside of missions. Emmrich always seems to have something to be doing as well. If anything, he seems to spend more time with Rook than Bellara--and this is the source of the issue.

The spark of attraction in the Necropolis grows to nothing short of a blazing inferno. Emmrich invites Rook to the Memorial Gardens, performs the rituals with her, calls her recitation of the rites masterful. He takes her arm in the crook of his own as they walk the paths. He finds her in the kitchen in the evenings and sits next to her, legs crossed in that neat and proper way, and she sits there and lets the heat of his thigh burn into hers until she has to get up and go find something to occupy her hands. He does everything short of lay his jacket over puddles for her like some prince in a storybook--though even that, she wouldn't put past him. She sees him staring at her during a soaking downpour in Minrathous one time, but it's always raining in Minrathous.

Jealousy is an insidious emotion that the Mourn Watch warns against specifically. It will make a monster of the most benevolent, if it takes hold. Rook struggles not to let it. This gets harder and harder, the more time she spends in Emmrich's company and the more he seeks her out. He'll say, "I'm so pleased to have a fellow Watcher to talk to, Rook," and she'll smile and pretend she isn't actively resisting the urge to stare at his lips. He'll say, "I am continually impressed by your keen skills of observation, my dear" and she'll only be capable of nodding because she's trying to clear a daydream from her head. Something about him and one of the geothermal underground pools in the Necropolis and a mysteriously disappearing set of clothing. He'll say, "I find myself continually waiting for the next time we'll have one of our chats, Rook--they're becoming something I find great comfort in," and Rook won't even hear what he's saying, because she's trying so hard to shove him, the concept of him, into a little box in her head labeled Bellara's--Do Not Touch.

It gets a little ridiculous. She stops taking them on missions together, because the sound of them chattering on about Fade harmonics behind her makes her want to absolutely chew glass. On the off chance she sees one of them come out of the other's room, which does not happen very often at all but has, on a handful of occasions, she'll turn herself around and sit herself down on Solas' stupid fuck-ugly green meditation couch until she feels a little less like her head is going to pop off. One time, she falls asleep while doing this and has to deal with a particularly weird conversation with Solas where she's too keyed up to do much more than grunt along to his typical long-winded pontification and he ends the conversation with something along the lines of, "Perhaps you should reexamine some details of your situation that you have taken as fact. You may find them not so."

"Could you just say something that's not buried under five layers of innuendo," Rook thinks, and unfortunately also says out loud, because she's not actually allowed to think just in her head in these Solas-dreams. He scowls at her and rolls his eyes. They're both doing the Fade-space equivalent of blowing raspberries at each other by the time she wakes up.

It all comes to a head in Arlathan, because they've camped with the Veil Jumpers for the night and Rook needs to ask Bellara a question. She thinks nothing of whipping open the flap to Bellara's tent, because Bellara is almost always awake until the stars have been overhead for hours and Emmrich--who was obliged to come along, just this once, because they're in Arlathan specifically for haunting-related reasons--is visible across the camp, wiggling carrots through the bars of Gus the Nug's cage. There is a small, tender smile on his face as he listens to the nug snort and whuffle. Rook suddenly remembers the story about the pig he used to hug as a kid, and then her heart jumps a little, and--

Well, anyway, there shouldn't be a reason not to let herself into Bellara's tent.

There is, in fact, a reason not to let herself into Bellara's tent.

That reason is named Irelin, whose body Rook now knows about in much more expansive detail than she did a few minutes ago. Bellara's too, though most of that was covered by--well, by Irelin.

"Maker!" they all three scream in unison, and Rook all but sommersaults back out of the tent.

"Sorry," she yells through the flap. "Sor--sorry, I didn't--"

"It's fiiine," Bellara yells back. Her head pokes through after a minute. Her hair is down and disappears somewhere back inside the tent. She looks like an almost completely different person with it framing her face like that. "Hey, um--you could, like...knock next time? I mean, I know you can't really knock on a tent--"

"Everything alright over here?" Emmrich has appeared, and Rook's tongue seems to grow three sizes in her mouth.

Oh shit! is all her brain will supply, so she doesn't really respond. She thinks she's willing enough to respect Girl Code, such as it is, that she won't tell Emmrich about the whole Irelin thing. Because maybe that's how their relationship works, or maybe Emmrich already knows, or maybe it's none of her business--

Or maybe something really weird is happening, because Bellara looks at Emmrich and her expression does nothing but get a little more annoyed, and she sighs, "It's fine. No worries, Professor. Just, could you guys--y'know, privacy?"

Then Irelin makes a noise from inside the tent, and it's pretty clear at that point what's just happened, but Emmrich just blushes a little and says, "Ah," and then wraps his hand around Rook's arm and leads her away, back towards the cage with Gus.

"Okay," Rook says, as Gus sniffs her boot on the off chance it contains carrots. "That was weird."

"I fear there are bound to be clashes when multiple cultures blend, my dear," Emmrich tells her, a low murmur directly into her ear. "We in Nevarra, especially amongst the Mourn Watch, are slightly more--shall we say, open? Don't take it personally that Bellara withheld the information of her liaison with Irelin. I don't think it was done maliciously."

"No, I mean--why aren't you--upset?"

Emmrich's brows furrow. "Whyever would I be upset? I'm hardly a prude, Rook. These are difficult times, and any small piece of comfort one can find should be readily taken. A tent in the middle of a busy camp is an...interesting location, but I understand our dear Bellara has history with Irelin, and should the object of my affections be willing--"

"No, no, I mean--you're not--are you okay with this? You and Bellara have some kind of..." Rook scrambles about for an accurate word. "Agreement? About this kind of stuff?"

Emmrich's eyebrows do an odd, fluttery sort of thing that reminds Rook of a puppet she once saw being manipulated by a group of playful wisps. Sort of like his face is trying to show half a dozen emotions at once.

"Why on earth would Bellara and I have ever spoken about her sex life," he says flatly, and far more bluntly than Rook is used to him being. Heat floods her body as she realizes that she has, somewhere along the way, wildly misunderstood something.

"I," says Rook, "have made a mistake."

"Rook," he says, with a voice like he's trying to diffuse a spell primed to explode, "Darling. If you thought Bellara and I were involved, would you mind enlightening me exactly as to...what you think my intentions were when I took you to the Memorial Gardens."

Rook wonders if Gus the nug could be persuaded to eat her whole.

"Enrichment?" she mutters.

"Enrichment," Emmrich sighs under his breath.

There is a long, gravid beat of silence.

"That clearing we passed earlier," Rook mumbles under her breath, once the world is done tilting on its axis. "Looked enriching."

"Quite," Emmrich says promptly. He grabs her by the hand and only grins a little when she releases a frantic, giddy giggle as he pulls her away from the camp.

#Emmrook #Emmrich Volkarin #DATV #Dragon Age #Rook: God of COURSE he's taken. He's a dream come true. Anyone would want him.#Literally everyone else: Your experiences are not universal.

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willowsnook · 3 days ago

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an experiment (18+)

hey, could you write a story like the one you reposted of max ”popular“ but for lando? I absolutely loved the plot and never saw one like that before, but don’t feel pressured! thank you<3

A/N: Didn’t want to do the exact same plot but did the same kind of reporter x Lando vibe where they don’t like each other.

Lando Norris x Reporter!Reader

The media room was bustling with reporters, and your eyes were trained on Oscar Piastri as he answered the question you had just asked him, nodding along.

“So you’re not worried about team orders, then?” you asked to confirm, and he shot you a grin.

“We’re only 20 points apart, so no,” he replied, and you smiled, turning off your recorder. “Good to see you, Y/N. When are you coming to an overseas race?”

The other reporters around left as you stayed behind to talk to Oscar. “Not really sure. I’m mostly covering IndyCar this year. I’m only here today because our F1 beat reporter caught some kind of bug.”

You had covered F1 for ESPN last year and had a blast doing it, but the travel was a lot. When the chance came up to switch to IndyCar, you took it, wanting to stay in the U.S., where you were from. You did miss the F1 drivers, though. You had a good working relationship with all of them—well, except one.

You and Lando got off on the wrong foot last year, and things never really recovered. You asked him a simple question, and he bit your head off. Instead of folding, you challenged him and called him an asshole to his face, so things were a little testy after that.

You glanced up from your notes, keeping your expression neutral as Lando approached. “Norris.”

He sighed, barely looking at you. “Let’s just get this over with.”

You ignored his tone, pressing the record button. “You had a solid P2 in practice. Do you feel confident heading into qualifying, or are there still issues you need to address?”

Lando shrugged, crossing his arms. “Car’s fine. We’ll see what happens.”

You blinked, waiting for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, you pressed on. “McLaren has been closing the gap to Red Bull in recent races. Do you think this track gives you a real opportunity to challenge for the win?”

He exhaled sharply. “You lot love asking the same pointless questions every weekend, don’t you?”

You kept your voice even. “I’m asking because fans and analysts are genuinely curious about McLaren’s trajectory. If you’d rather not answer, I can move on.”

Lando let out a humorless laugh. “Right, because you’re just here for the ‘fans and analysts’—not to pick apart every word I say.”

Your grip on your pen tightened, but you refused to take the bait. “I’m here to report, Norris. What I’m not here to do is argue with you.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he muttered.

You inhaled slowly, keeping your professionalism intact. “Alright. Final question—realistically, where do you see yourself finishing this weekend?”

Lando gave you a flat look. “Ahead of where you think I will.”

You held his gaze for a moment before calmly closing your notebook. “Noted. Thanks for your time.”

He scoffed. “Yeah. Sure.”

You watched as he walked off without another word, then sighed, shutting off your recorder. Interviews with Lando Norris were always a test of patience—but at least this time, you hadn’t given him the satisfaction of a reaction.

“Y/N!” You heard Carlos call out, and you instantly brightened. He was one of your favorites on the grid, and you truly missed him this season.

“Hi, Carlos,” you said, walking next to him as you were both leaving the pen. “How are you?”

“I’m good. How are you? Still beefing with Lando, I see,” he teased, and you rolled your eyes.

“He’s such a pain in the ass,” you muttered, and he let out a loud laugh.

“Please, the tension between the two of you—nothing like it,” he said, and you stopped short, giving him an incredulous look.

“What on earth are you talking about?” you asked, and he grinned.

“There are literally three different bets I know of on when you guys will get together,” he said, amused, and your eyes narrowed.

“I don’t even cover F1 races anymore,” you said.

He shrugged, holding the door open for you.

"That doesn't matter," Carlos said with a mischievous grin. "The sparks between you two are undeniable. Even from across the pond."

You scoffed, shaking your head. "You're delusional, Sainz. There's nothing between Lando and me except mutual disdain."

Carlos raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? Then why does he always ask about you when you're not around?"

You froze mid-step, turning to face him. "He... what?"

"Oh, yes," Carlos nodded, clearly enjoying this. "He tries to be subtle about it, but we all notice. 'Has anyone heard from Y/N?' 'Is Y/N covering this race?' It's quite amusing, actually."

You were about to argue when you caught sight of Lando across the paddock, talking to his race engineer. For a brief moment, his eyes met yours, and you felt a simmer of the electricity Carlos was talking about. Lando looked from you to Carlos and frowned, looking away.

“Whatever, Carlos. I’ll see you tomorrow,” you said, dismissing him as you headed to where your car was, thinking about what he said.

Lando was an asshole to you. That was a fact. But there were things that were off: he always took your questions first, his eyes lingered on you from across the room—almost always—and you could tell how irritated he was anytime you were talking casually with another driver.

Pair that with the fact that your boss had asked if you wanted to be moved last season to cover a different team, to which you replied no because there was just something so exciting about getting under his skin. You always had a thing for guys like him, and it didn’t really help that he was as hot as he was.

You were still irritated as you got back to your apartment and quickly texted your group chat, begging to have a girls' night out. Luckily, most of your friends were free, and one of them snagged a last-minute reservation at a place nearby.

A couple of hours later, you were two drinks in, laughing about one of your friend’s most recent Hinge horror stories. Smiling, your eyes wandered around the room, landing on a very familiar mullet.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” you muttered, and your friends looked at you and then over to where you were looking. Grace was the first to laugh.

“You two are truly like magnets. Carlos was right,” she said. You shot her a pointed look. They all knew about your disdain for Lando, and you had told them what Carlos had said, hoping they’d back you up about it being ridiculous, but they had all agreed with him.

At the attention of all your friends, Lando’s friends looked over at the table, some of them smiling widely when they recognized you. It didn’t take long for one of them to come sauntering over.

“Hey, ladies,” he said. “We’re about to wrap up and would love if you guys joined us at the next bar.”

“No,” you said at the same time that your friends said, “Yes.” You groaned, putting your head into your hands.

After paying your bill, you reluctantly followed your friends out and to the next bar. Lando and his friends were hanging out on the patio, and they were excited to see your group make it. Lando smiled at all your friends, introducing himself, but then narrowed his eyes when he got to you. You rolled your eyes, muttering that you needed a drink, and walked off.

You leaned against the bar, waiting for the bartender's attention. The night air was cool on your skin, a welcome relief from the stuffy atmosphere inside. You couldn't believe your luck—or lack thereof. Of all the places in the city, Lando and his crew had to end up at the same spot as you and your friends.

"Fancy seeing you here," a familiar voice said behind you. You didn’t need to turn around to know it was Lando.

"I could say the same to you," you replied, keeping your eyes on the bartender. "Shouldn't you be resting up for qualifying tomorrow?"

Lando moved to stand beside you, effortlessly flagging down the bartender. "I could ask you the same thing. Aren’t you supposed to be covering the race?"

You finally turned to face him, crossing your arms. "I'm allowed to have a life outside of my job."

"So am I," he said, mirroring you.

"You sure about that?" you asked, tilting your head. "Because the way you act, it seems like your entire personality revolves around racing and being a pain in my ass."

Lando chuckled, shaking his head as he took a sip of his drink. "You love it, though."

You scoffed. "I tolerate it."

He stepped closer, just enough that you could feel the warmth of his body in the cool night air. "You tolerate me? Interesting. Because from where I’m standing, you go out of your way to get under my skin."

You arched a brow. "Funny, I was about to say the same about you."

Lando’s gaze flickered to your lips for a fraction of a second before meeting your eyes again. "Maybe we just enjoy the game too much."

You refused to be the first to look away. "Or maybe you just hate that I don’t fall for your usual charm."

His smirk deepened. "Who said I was trying to charm you?"

"Oh, please," you scoffed, taking a slow sip of your drink. "The lingering stares? The petty jabs? The way you just so happened to end up at the same bar as me tonight?"

Lando leaned in, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. "Maybe I just like watching you get all worked up."

You swallowed hard, suddenly too aware of the way your pulse quickened. "Keep dreaming, Norris."

He smirked, stepping back just enough to let you breathe but not enough to break the tension crackling between you. "Sweet dreams, then, Y/N."

And just like that, he walked away. But before he could get far, you yanked his arm to turn him around and crashed your lips against his.

The kiss was electric, a charged collision of all the tension that had been building between you for months. Lando's surprise quickly melted away as he responded with equal fervor, his hands finding your waist and pulling you closer. The world around you blurred as you lost yourself in the sensation of his lips moving against yours.

When you finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, you found yourselves staring at each other with a mix of shock and desire. The background noise of the bar slowly filtered back in, reminding you of where you were.

"Well," Lando said, his voice husky. "That was..."

"A mistake," you finished, even as your body screamed otherwise. You took a step back, trying to regain your composure. "An experiment."

"An experiment," he repeated. "And what exactly was the hypothesis?"

"I’m shocked you know that word," you said, avoiding the question.

"Y/N," he warned.

"A mutual friend hypothesized that the way we act toward each other was because of something other than hatred," you admitted, thankful that you were on drink number four now.

"And the conclusion?" he asked, tipping his head curiously.

"Inconclusive," you said, and his eyes flickered back down to your lips for a second.

"Probably need more testing," he said darkly, and your pulse quickened.

"Probably," you agreed, not breaking eye contact.

"Let’s go," he said, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the exit.

"I just got my drink," you complained, but made no move to stop him.

His hotel was only a couple of blocks away. That was the only thing he said the whole walk over, but his hand gripped yours tightly.

By the time you made it to his floor, his pace quickened, like he didn’t want to give you a chance to change your mind. The door opened, then closed, and suddenly you were pressed against it, his lips on your neck.

It lasted a minute before you gripped his hair, yanking his head back so you could press your lips against his.

The kiss was rough and demanding, both of you fighting each other with something other than words this time. He tugged at the bottom of your shirt, and you lifted it up, watching his eyes widen at your bare chest.

Lando's eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight of you. His hands skimmed up your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You shivered under his touch, your breath catching in your throat.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

You rolled your eyes, trying to maintain some semblance of your usual dynamic. "Shut up and kiss me, Norris."

He smirked, clearly enjoying your impatience. "So demanding," he teased, but obliged, capturing your lips in another searing kiss.

Your hands roamed his body, tugging at his shirt until he broke the kiss just long enough to pull it over his head. The feeling of skin on skin was intoxicating, and you couldn't help the small moan that escaped you as he pressed you further against the door.

His hands trailed down from your waist, past the loose band of your pants and under your panties. He lightly traced over your clit before moving to where you wanted him.

“So wet baby, are you sure you hate me?” He teased as you moaned out.

“Positive,” you got out before he slipped a finger inside, finding your g-spot and massaging it.

Your head fell back against the door as Lando worked his fingers inside you, his thumb circling your clit with maddening precision. But you weren't about to let him have all the control. With a sudden surge of strength, you pushed off the door, forcing him to stumble backwards towards the bed.

"My turn," you growled, shoving him onto the mattress. Lando's eyes widened in surprise, but the smirk never left his face as you straddled him.

"Thought you hated me," he teased, his hands gripping your hips.

You ground down against him, relishing the groan that escaped his lips. "I do," you breathed. "This is simply an experiment."

Your fingers made quick work of his belt and zipper, freeing his hardening length. Lando hissed as you wrapped your hand around him, pumping slowly up and down.

“Don’t tease,” he grumbled and you smiled wickedly at him, swiping your thumb over his head causing him to whimper. The noise took you both by surprise and you knew he was embarrassed.

“I thought you hated me,” you threw his own words back at him. “But it sounds like you don’t.”

He started to argue back but you quickly shifted your hips, slowly sinking down on top of him.

You both gasped as you fully pushed him inside you, the sensation overwhelming. For a moment, you stayed still, adjusting to the feel of him stretching you. Lando's hands tightened on your hips, his eyes dark with desire as he looked up at you.

"Fuck, y/n," he breathed, voice strained. "You feel amazing."

Instead of responding, you began to move, setting a slow, torturous pace. Lando's head fell back against the pillows, a low moan escaping him. You couldn't help but feel a sense of triumph at reducing him to this state.

"Look at me," you commanded, voice husky. His eyes snapped to yours, pupils blown wide. "I want you to see exactly who's making you feel this good."

Lando's lips curled into a smirk, even as his breathing grew ragged. His fingers dug harshly into your waist and he started to move you faster against him and you groaned out.

Lando suddenly sat up, wrapping his arms around you and flipping you onto your back in one fluid motion. The change in position drove him even deeper inside you, eliciting a gasp of pleasure. His eyes locked onto yours, blazing with intensity.

"My turn," he growled, echoing your earlier words.

He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, the new angle allowing him to hit spots that made you see stars. His thrusts were deep and purposeful, each one drawing out a moan or whimper from your lips. You clutched at his back, nails digging into his skin as the pleasure built.

Lando's lips found your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin there. The dual sensation of his mouth on your throat and his cock inside you was almost too much to bear. You arched your back, pressing your chest against his as he continued his assault on your pussy.

"God, you feel incredible," he panted, his rhythm faltering slightly as he fought to maintain control. "So tight, so perfect for me."

Your back arched off the bed as he hit a deeper angle and your climax crashed over you. He sounded animalistic as his own release was triggered, spilling into you.

The two of you breathed heavily for a moment looking at each other. Finally you pushed yourself off the bed and headed into the bathroom to pee and clean yourself off. When you returned, Lando was leaning against he headboard watching you as you put your clothes back on.

“Leaving?” He asked.

“Yes,” you replied, finally looking at him. “This was just an experiment remember, it wasn’t real.”

“I remember,” he said, still watching. “You could stay.”

“I have never in my life stayed over for a one night stand,” you said. You don’t know why you told him that, he didn’t need to know anything about your personal life.

“Are you serious?” He asked, shocked.

“Very.”

Lando's eyes widened at your admission. "Never? Not even once?"

You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant as you slipped on your shoes. "Never saw the point. It's called a one-night stand for a reason."

He sat up straighter, the sheet pooling around his waist. "But what about... I don't know, cuddling? Or morning sex?"

You couldn't help but laugh. "Cuddling? With you? Please."

"Hey, I'll have you know I'm an excellent cuddler," he protested, a hint of a smile playing at his lips.

You rolled your eyes, but found yourself hesitating by the door. "Look, Norris, this was... satisfying. But let's not make it more than it was."

Lando's expression sobered. "And what exactly was it, y/n.”

“An experiment,” you said again, leaving before he had a chance to ask what the result was.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lando norris #lando norris x reader

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leviathansmistress · 2 days ago

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A Little Help

Mom's Girlfriend!Natasha Romanoff x Innocent Daughter!Female Reader

Tags/warnings: +18 AMAB Natasha, top!Nat, bottom!r, blowjob, handjob, cum swallowing (r), petnames, cheating (r has no idea about the extent of the actions she did)

In which you started helping the girlfriend of your mother.

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

"Baby, mom's gonna be on a business trip for two weeks. Don't worry, Dada will be there for you. Help her with what she needs, okay baby? And help her with what needs to be done at home, don't give her a hard time. I love you, moonpie."

That's what your mom told you, it was actually a voice message she left you when she tried to call you from the airport since you were sleeping when she left. You typed something telling her to take care and go shopping for you, then, you fixed your bed and changed your sleeping clothes to go downstairs where the live-in girlfriend of your mom has been waiting.

"Hi Da." It was a nickname your mom made to call Natasha and you have been used to calling her the same. Daddy your mom always teases her, then it turns to something more domestically sweet—Dada.

"Hi, princess. I already had my breakfast. But I prepared yours."

"Thank you," you tiptoed your way to your dining seat and started eating the food Natasha made you.

Natasha excused herself in the bathroom, there's something she cannot handle lately every time you were around. Wearing thin tops, painfully short shorts that are barely covering your ass and stretch marks on your upper thighs that she found cute and hot.

She let out a shaky breath before slipping her hand on her boxers, pulling her length and started rubbing it. It was so wrong to have such perverted thoughts on the daughter of the woman she has a relationship with but she can't help it now, besides, your mother isn't there to help her with what she needs, she actually barely helped her.

"F-fuck…" Natasha was sweating in guilt as she continued to rub her cock.

You placed your plates in the sink, ready to clean them together with the dishes that were left. But you heard some sounds in the bathroom where Natasha excused herself, it was a loud breathing, a shaky one. When you tried to take a peek, you saw half of her body, her right hand working on something between her legs.

You can hear her loud and clear now, she sounded in pain.

"Help her with what she needs, okay baby?"

"Natty?" You called, you didn't entirely step inside the bathroom not wanting to invade her space. Natasha jolted, pulling the shower curtains so whatever she's doing will be hidden—you already, innocently invaded her space and you already saw what she was doing.

"Honey, wh-what are you doing here? Are you done eating?" Natasha asked in a hurry, her mind making up excuses in case you ask what she was doing.

"Y-yeah…" you muttered, "are you okay? You sounded in pain."

"What? N-no, sweetheart. I am fine alright?" Natasha's hand never left the curtain, pushing it towards the wall, her cock still springing out but long forgotten.

"Can I help you out?"

God, the way she wanted your hands and mouth to ease her pain right now. Natasha cursed herself, this is so wrong. Before she could even tell you to go wash the dishes you were already pushing the other end of the curtains.

"F-fu—please go, Y/N." She did not look at you but you walked to her side.

"Where do you need help?" You innocently asked. "Is it hurting?" You pointed at her length, taking note of the liquid that is coming out on the tip of it.

"Please…" She mumbled, she could feel her heart jumping inside her ribs.

"How do I do it?" You innocently asked as you slowly kneel in front of her. Your small hand took a hold of her cock, slowly stroking it. You giggled when you felt it slightly twitch on your hand.

Your innocence is already making Natasha damn hard, but you actually touching her would definitely make her cum anytime soon. You watched with your mouth agape as you stroke Natasha's cock with your right hand, her moans and the slick sounds of her wet cock was filling the bathroom. You didn't know if you were doing it right but Natasha continuously saying "Just like that" reassures you that you are helping her just right.

"You're so good baby…yes."

You watched the tip of it taunting you to suck it, that's what your intrusive thoughts were telling you as well and it won. Natasha let out a loud moan when she felt something wet and soft swirling on the tip of her cock when she looked down at you, your mouth is already trying to swallow her entire length.

"Fu-fuck, baby." She groaned. "Gonna cum!" Her hand instinctively went grab a handful of your hair. She cannot fight it anymore, she pulled your head towards her, her cock pushing up to the back of your throat, your nose touching her pubic region.

You felt a warm liquid travel straight to the stretch of your throat. Then, you let out a gagging sound as she pushed you away from her cock. Your saliva and her cum connecting her cock to your tongue. She stepped forward and jerked herself and spurted her white cum on your face.

You gasped about how good and hot it felt on your skin. You adjusted your kneeling self, something uncomfortable started to knot in between your legs but it doesn't matter, your Dada needs more than you. Your face was coated with her hot cum, you pushed the liquid to your mouth and sucked your fingers. You eagerly met her eyes with an innocent smile as you wasted none of her cum, tasting and eating it all—that cracked something inside Natasha. A twisted, dark, hidden side of her that she has been trying to bury since the day she met the daughter of her girlfriend.

"You can't tell mom about this, alright?"

Your brows creased in confusion and innocence, "Why?"

Natasha took a deep breath, she knew she had to explain it to you without wanting to freak you out. You're now in college, a strict Catholic college. You grew up in a very strict household with your father, but when he died you finally got to live with your mother. You had requested to be enrolled in the same school you grew up studying in even though your mother wanted you to have a different environment since she noticed that you had adapted the traditionality of your father's family which your mom hated the most. Resulting for you to be so frail, innocent and naive.

"Because…mom can only help me like this." She said softly. "And she would be very mad if she knew you've been helping Dada like this. Do you want mom to be mad at you?"

"No. I don't want mom to be mad at me." You said in almost a whisper, your eyes started to sting.

"Oh hush bunny, don't cry. Just don't tell her about this alright? Mom knows how good you have been to me and that's already enough." Her reassurance and the soft kiss she planted on your forehead started to soothe you. You nodded eagerly, biting your inner lip to suppress your tears.

All you want is nothing but to help your Dada.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov #black widow #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x fem!reader

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comfxrtablykai · 2 days ago

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The Art of Staying

a bucky barnes x fem!ex-hydra!reader story

Warnings: kissing, drinking, bucky calling you doll (it's a warning), no use of Y/N.

Summery: James Buchanan Barnes and you had known each other for a few years now. They were both HYDRA's minions at some point in their life which they had bonded over, but he couldn't really decipher her. Not until now, when she gave him an answer on how to.

────୨ৎ────

Maybe it was the number drinks he had, maybe it was the fact that you were wearing a cropped camisole that barely covered your perfect chest and body.

Maybe it was the fact you were sitting in the outdoor part of the bar, looking at the sea, nursing a beer instead of partying with the other Avengers. To him you looked like a dream, like something out of a 90s movie. Your hair blew lightly from the sea breeze, framing your face in a halo.

Maybe it was the fact that Bucky had finally grown a pair but he made his way outside towards you.

He stood besides you leaning against the rails, not saying anything and looking at the girl who had become his favourite headache in the few years he'd known you. "Hey, doll."

"Hey, sergeant." You spoke in that drunken drawl, your voice wrapping around the title like a slow drag of honey.

Your hair was a bit messy in the best way possible. Your lips were glossy and when you looked at him with those eyes... oh, those beautiful eyes.

You looked at him with a half lidded gaze. When his eyes looked into yours, his breath hitched. They had a longing and sadness in them he couldn't understand. You looked at him like you knew him, like you could read him like an open book and yet, he didn't know you. You still had an air of mystery to you he couldn't figure out. Ever.

He spoke his next words before he could properly think them through, "who is the real you?" Her eyes hesitated for a second before turning back to the sea, your jaw clenched.

"I don't know." You said glumly, but despite your tone your body was relaxed as if you'd made peace with the fact you didn't truly know who you were. "I still haven't figured it yet after..." you gulped and took a sip of your beer to calm your nerves. "But who I am, it makes people not wanna stick around."

He clenched his jaw and looked down in anger towards the people who had dared to leave you. No one should be left alone, he knew the feeling all too well.

But when he looked back into your eyes, for the first time he found himself understanding the longing in them. Not fully, not yet completely but enough to know he'd stripped of a layer of that mystery.

You sighed and your lips curved up slightly in a mischievous manner, which after seeing made his anger simmer down. He scoffed and shook his head with a smile.

Such a complicated, stubborn thing.

You got up from your seat, assuming the conversation was over. Your hand on the railing to balance you. But Bucky tucked a strand of stray hair behind your ear, surprising you.

"Guess I'll to do something scary," he breathed out softly with a smile. His fingers brushed against your cheek. Your skin was so soft, he wanted to keep his hand there forever. His fingers hesitantly rest at the side of your neck, his thumb brushed against your skin and his palm cupped your cheek, "and stick around."

You looked up at him with vulnerability. You tried to walk away but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards him, not letting you deflect him like you usually did.

He looked at you like you were an angel and you looked at him like he was your saviour.

You hadn't realised how close you both had gotten until your eyes moved down to his lips. His eyes did the same, it was only for a second when he had looked at those pretty lips of yours, but he was a goner.

He pressed his lips against yours tentatively.

Testing

Tasting

Feeling.

You tasted like your sweet beer which you had been drinking and something else which he was damn sure was ambrosia. But most importantly you tasted like everything he's ever wanted.

The kiss became more desperate, and before you both knew it, you had lost control. Your lips moved against his in an intense rhythm. Your hands travelled up his chest, feeling the ridges of his abs. He was a wall of muscle and he felt warm under your hands.

His hands trailed down your back to your thighs, his calloused hands squeezing the flesh before he gripped your hips and pulled you closer.

You let out a little whimper and softly nipped at his bottom lip, making him grunt, your tongue brushing against his.

You slowly pulled away, taking a deep breath as you looked into his blue eyes. "James..." you said breathily.

He looked at you with an adoring gaze and he had a content smile on his face. He bit his lip as he looked at you like held the whole galaxy in the palm of your hand. He pressed his lips against yours again one last time in a small peck.

He pressed his forehead against yours and whispered, "I'm gonna stick around doll." And you couldn't help but let out a little giggle.

#kai's coffee talks☕#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #winter soldier #james bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #marvel x reader #avengers #mcu #mcu x reader #mcu x you #mcu x y/n

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xxsteveharringtonxx · 2 days ago

Text

Adjustments

Eddie Munson x Reader

It hadn’t taken you long to adjust to having Eddie around.

Steve, Robin and yourself had formed a comfortable friendship, it was easy, peaceful and despite everything you all went through you melded back into reality once again.

Except this time, Eddie Munson melded too.

Right as if he’d been there the entire time.

For the last two years his loud and unapologetic presence had become a normality in your life, and the two of you couldn’t be more different.

He had the same cautious prejudgments of you from High School, and having ran in the same crowd as Steve for a while, you couldn’t exactly blame him for his weariness around you at the start.

But High School was a long time ago.

Well it felt like a long time ago.

While Eddie was all leather jackets, heavy boots and loud music, you were somewhat shyer than when you were younger and more reserved now. Not wanting the attention anywhere near you, a quiet life in the shadows was exactly what you preferred now.

And it took Eddie a while to get used to you too.

He wasn’t sure why you were so quiet around him to begin with, it put him on edge but as time went on he realised actually that’s just how you are, and he’s more than happy to speak for the both of you, often spending time together in the group you would rarely get a word in between him and Robin.

It was a nice balance and having him around to be the loud outspoken one was a comfort.

And you grew to love it.

And him.

It was funny because you weren’t even aware of your feelings until Robin pointed them out, Steve catching on to her words too.

“Oh shit honey, I actually see it.” He had informed, realisation dawning on you.

While that was about a year ago now and while Steve and Robin loved to tease you about it, you obviously weren’t going to actually do or say anything about it.

He probably still thought you were preppy and stuck up like back at school.

Which bought you to now, present time and currently stuck on the side of the road just outside of Hawkins and glaring at your car.

It was smoking a little and you tilted your head in thought as to whether it was a real issue or if you could just wait it out, but considering it had broken down, and was literally smoking you concluded it probably was a real problem.

Looking around you spotted a phone booth just down the hill so with a huff and eye roll you headed over. This really wasn’t what you needed after the day you had just had. All you wanted to do was go home and watch some movies, maybe hang out with Steve or the whole gang.

Sighing heavily at your evening plans dwindling away you dialled the number you knew by heart.

And it only rang twice before you heard him.

“Yeah hello?” He barked down the line and despite the gruffness in his tone his voice made you smile.

Actually it made you grin.

“Hey Eddie it’s me.” You announced and there a bit of a scuffle on the line before you heard him more clearly.

“Hey Pretty, what’s up?” Blushing at the nickname he had called you which he’d given you years back, having probably forgotten your actual name at the time, but for some reason it stuck.

“I kind of broke down, well my car definitely did.” You told him cringing at your own sad tone.

“Broke down? Where?” He asked worry woven into his tone and the burst of excitement you felt seemed odd at a time of crisis like this.

But he really sounded like he was worried, biting down on your bottom lip to stop the smile you hummed trying to think of where you were.

“Just on the way into Hawkins I guess, as if you’re heading to Hoppers cabin before town.” You heard him clutch some keys on the other end of the line before barking orders at you.

“Don’t move and stay in your car.” He instructed.

“Eddie! No it’s smoking I don’t want-“ he cut you off with an impatient sigh and a firmer tone.

“Get your pretty ass in the car Y/N and stay there until I find you. I’m on my way.” And then the dial tone.

Following his instructions you did as you were told trudging back to your car. Sighing heavily as you say patiently in the drivers seat.

You could be home by now.

Out of your stupid dress and makeup wiped off.

But then maybe ten or fifteen minutes later you saw Eddie, he was in Wayne’s tow truck and you could make out his navy overalls were a little smudged with oil but he gave you a grin and sarcastic wave through the windshield.

He jumped out and you rolled your window down to pout up at him.

“Need a hand?” He asked teasingly poking his head through.

With a playful eye roll you turned to him with pursed lips to really show your sadness at the situation, but instead goosebumps prickled at your arms at the closeness of the two of you. The freckle on his nose visible to you he was so close, but he cleared his throat before standing up and opening your door.

He about melted at the sight of you pushing your bottom lip out, yours eyes looking up at him for saving.

And saving he could do for you.

“I think she’s dead.” You told him and he gave you a sad smile.

“I can fix her, come on go get in the truck there’s AC in there.” He told you helping you out the car and up the step to the truck.

He licked his lips as he took you in, bare tanned legs in front of him as you climbed up, a baby blue summer dress and white little heeled shoes. Not your usual attire these days and it reminded him of High School.

Remembering only then that you had mentioned a lunch at your grandmas house a few towns over.

He made a mental note to ask you about it.

Seeing your patents wasn’t something you usually ever wanted to do.

You watched as he popped open the hood of your car took a look around, tried a few things and then tried to start her up but nothing came of it. But no matter what he tried within 30 minutes he had latched her up to the tow and joined you in the truck.

“I’ll take her to the shop, Wayne can have a look. He usually figures out what’s wrong pretty quick.” His tone was easy and you nodded at him suddenly aware that the two of you would be spending time together alone.

There was rarely an occasion you’d hung out without Steve or Robin also present. And even if you weren’t used to it there was still a comfortable warmth around you. You felt safe and it was easy being in his presence.

“Thanks Eddie.” You told him with a sweet smile, head lolling to the side to look at him, tugging your dress down when you noticed it had crumpled higher than usual.

Eddie’s eyes flicking down at your movement before focusing back on the road.

“It’s my job.” He fobbed off with a chuckle and you frowned.

“I didn’t call you because you’re a mechanic or anything, I called you because well you’re you and I knew you could help me.” Your words made his cheeks go a little pink, he huffed out some air from his nose before beaming over at you.

A proud glimmer in his eye.

“Well aren’t you a little charmer today.” And it was your turn to blush because as he said he reached his hand over from the stick to squeeze your knee.

But after driving back to the shop in peaceful silence, Eddie’s music playing from the radio keeping a comfort, you finally pulled up outside the garage and followed Eddie to the office where Wayne was sat.

“Uncle Wayne, we got a case of an over heated cooling unit and low battery.” Eddie diagnosed as Wayne looked up giving you a friendly smile.

“We’ll get her fixed right up girly.” Wayne reassured making you roll your lips into your mouth at the expensive sounding issues. “Don’t you worry about nothing.” He barked in a tone sounding familiar to his nephew’s and you saw where Eddie got his kindness from.

“Thanks Wayne but I can talk to my dad-“ you started to try and offer but he gave you a stern look. Probably knowing first hand what an asshole your father is.

“Take her home Eddie.” Were his next words as Eddie began ushering you out to his van, one hand on your lower back and the other grabbing his keys off the hook at the door.

“Wanna go grab some burgers?” He asked as you put your seatbelt on.

“From Benny’s?” You perked up in excitement making him chuckle with a sideways glance at you.

“Yeah from Benny’s, what they didn’t feed you at your grandmothers lunch?” He teased trying to broach the subject and still be a little light hearted but you groaned and closed your eyes.

“It’s not polite to over fill your plate or eat more than two quarters of a sandwich.” You informed him and then looked over. “Apparently it’s not lady like.” You added.

Your parents were from the same cut as the Harringtons, it’s how you and Steve became friends. Forced to sit in boring itchy outfits at the country club every Saturday and Sunday as your parents paraded you around like trophies.

It’s also why you live in a studio above the coffee shop on the high street and why Steve lives in a one bed two buildings down. Neither of you having much of a relationship left with your parents.

“It’s not polite to go hungry either, besides that little dress makes you plenty lady like.” His tone was flirtatious and you knew he was trying to cheer you up while making fun of you.

“And don’t worry I’ll even get you a milkshake so I know you’ve been fed through the night.” Grinning at his words you looked over at him excited for the evening again.

“I love Benny’s.” Was all you managed to say.

“I know Pretty, that’s why I’m taking you to Benny’s.” He assured as if it was obvious but you didn’t think he paid that much attention to you, until now. And pulling into the parking lot he was happy to be with you.

Just you.

Not that he was brave enough to say that out loud.

Once you had both eaten and you were picking at his left over fries you hummed content. The conversation about Robin’s new love interest, or Steve’s latest dating disaster had died down and you had just been laughing at a story he was telling from his gig last weekend, you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face.

“We should do this more often.” You told him bravely, dropping the fry and leaning closer by resting your chin on your hand.

“We practically live in Benny’s.” Was his blazè response as he watched you gulp and nod slowly, realising maybe you had meant more than just the diner.

“Sure but I mean just me and you. We should hang out more often, without Steve or Robin.” You said it so quickly he barely had time to recover but he’d caught your every word.

And he knew he had to think quickly before you took it back or changed your mind.

“Just me and you?” He echoed as if seeing what it sounded like on his tongue as well as getting confirmation before he got too nervous to bring it up again himself later.

“Yes Eddie, just me and you. I had fun with you this afternoon. It’s nice.” You looked away from him and down at the fries, your confidence fading. He took in how your cheeks were reddening and the tip of your ears were on fire.

“Steve and Robin are pretty annoying.” You laughed out loud at his response, and his way of making you laugh even in moments like this made your chest hurt.

You almost thought that was him rejecting you, softly and kindly.

But rejection nonetheless.

But when your hand reached over for the last fry he grabbed it gently with his own, placing the softest of kisses on the top.

You watched intently, lips rolled into your mouth trying to suppress a relieved grin.

“Just me and you huh?” He teased harmlessly and grinning at you like he’d just won the lottery.

“I like the sound of that.” He hummed happily.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things 4 #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #joseph quinn #stranger things fanfiction

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sukunasluvrr · 2 days ago

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DILF!kuna who was the father of your teen daughters friend. Uraume was a timid person around others but visibly good raised by the older and rather intimidating guy

DILF!kuna who didn’t make much conversation whenever you picked up your daughter from his place after sleepovers, the simple “hi, I’m here to pick up my kid” and him calling uraume over to let them know and simply saying your goodbyes was all it ever was. Nobody could deny Sukuna looked good. God, his voice alone was enough to make your thighs squeeze together in silence and whenever his muscles flexes you swore he did it on purpose to taunt you, especially when he walked around without a shirt at home- of course only when your kid wasn’t around.

DILF!kuna who one day reached out to you privately, which kind of surprised you and at the same time made you think something bad happened, only for him to ask you out on a date the next time your kids had a sleepover at his place. Who would pass up that chance tho?

DILF!kuna who turns out to be a really sweet man, sure he looks big and scary but he ended up paying for your meal and was acting cocky yet kind to you the whole night. He does know how to treat his women after all.

DILF!kuna who ended up fucking you in the backseats of his car because he was too impatient to get back to your place, pressing you face down ass up into the leather seats and thrusting into from behind, leaving you a babbling mess with drool leaving your lips in a way you barely noticed until he called it out

“Awww look at you!! Already cockdrunk, hm? Seems like you never got it this good then”

And to prove his point, he only pushed deeper into you, leaning down and his hand snaking around to give your clit a few swirls, wanting to feel you tighten and loosen up around his thick girth with each flick of his finger

“How about I give you a baby hm? You want that? Be all swollen because of me? Become a mom for a second time, sweet thing??”

You could barely register his words, the only thing you could hear were the words ‘give you a baby’ and ‘sweet thing’ and god his dick was cruel. Repeatedly hitting your g-spot and making you leak fluids down your slick, stretched hole and smear all over your skin and his balls

“Mfff, y-yes!!!”

He actually laughed at your response. Laughed at how dazed you sounded

“That’s it. Give you a bunch of brats, hm? Bet you’ll look good, saw the- Fuck. Saw some pics of you pregnant”

You didn’t know where he saw them, figuring he saw them on your moms Facebook page, which only left you to wonder how he knew your moms name. But that’s a concern for later, his pace becoming more relentless the more he felt your cunt squeeze around him, not caring how much the car was shaking, not caring if they’d get fined with a ticket, all he could care about was your sweet pussy gripping his dick like a vice. His free hand grabbing a hold of your ass cheek to spread it a little so he could try and slide even deeper into you, his sack making contact with your clit which made a gasp leave your lips, mixed with more moans of your pleasure. His own groans were lingering around the cramped space, praising you and sweet talking you while his dick was ruining your insides for any other man, making sure your inner walls moulded to his hefty girth and make it impossible for any other man to pleasure you like he did. You didn’t know if you were whimpering from the stretch that came with the new angle, or the way his thumb was wiping over your asshole

“I feel like every part of you is cute… god- even your little hole here is tempting”

And he had half the mind to slip his thumb in, but he didn’t. Focusing his movement inside your cunt and the hand that was still on your clit, giving mean circles over it that had your back arching further and thighs twitching

“I need you to cum for me sweet thing, make me proud eh”

And like a slut you did… moaning his name as you came messily around his dick, he had a shit eating grin on his face as he gave a a few more pumps of his hips before he let out a sound that almost sounded like a whimper, ending up cumming deep inside your cunny and groaning in satisfaction as he felt himself fill you up with his seed. Seeming lost in his own world while he kept himself quiet but not pulling out just yet, leaning down against and burying his face in the crook of your neck and kissing over your sweaty skin, the older man being almost completely able to wrap around you

“Mhm… how about you move in with me? Brats would love it I bet”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #sukuna jujutsu kaisen #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader

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stollengoods · 3 days ago

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Let’s Get Wild

REQ. Tha-gyu x Reader Smut~

Warnings: Cursing, drug use, and threesome/lots a smut (like someone needs to take my phone away from me cuz this was filthy bitch haha)

Summary: Your dumbass friends take Viagra.

————

Most people would think a single woman renting out a home with two men as your roomates would be a cause for concern. Especially if those same roomates, did all kinds of random substances on the daily but to you they were harmless goofballs; they could be dumb and annoying at times but harmless non-the-less.

You guys met at the club, Nam-gyu worked there as a manager, Thanos was a famous rapper so he was there almost every weekend, and you used to work there as a dancer until you finished college and went on to become a nurse.

You’re shift usually ends at 11 PM and you would get home around 11:30 - 11:45 PM. Most of the time you would get home before the boys because the club didn’t close until 2 AM, but sometimes your job would ask you to stay for a few more hours and you would for the extra pay.

Tonight was one of those nights, you texted the boys in the the group chat not to worry if they didn’t see you at the house because you probably weren’t going to be home until later.

On the way home they decided to stop at McDonalds and buy dinner for everyone. They wanted to surprise you and also knew that you most likely weren’t eating enough as you should for how hard you work.

When they got home, they set the food and drinks on the table. They didn’t know exactly how long you would be, but typically when your boss asked you to stay an extra few hours you got home no later than 3 AM.

They went into the fenced off backyard to smoke some weed before coming inside. They both sat down at the table engulfing their food in minutes.

Thanos burped, leaning back in his chair, “Alright, what do you got for us tonight ?”

Nam-gyu smirked pulling out an orange prescription bottle from his coat pocket.

“I pickpocketed this old fucker.” He said, shaking the bottle and listened to the sound of rattling pills.

Thanos made a face, “Why an old guy ? He’s probably got heart issues and shit. No way he’s taking anything fun.”

Nam-gyu shook his head, the corner of his eyes red due to the marijana they smoked earlier. “No dude, I specifically picked him because he was dressed like a rockstar and plus you should’ve seen all the woman he was picking up, that dude was a chick magnet ! Whatever he’s on I want.” Nam-gyu pointed his thumb to himself at the last statement before opening the pill bottle and shaking one out onto his hand.

“What even is it ?” Thanos asked, his eyebrows raised in curiosity now.

Nam-gyu handed Thanos the bottle, “That’s the thing, the labels kind of worn out, so I can’t really tell.”

Thanos inspected the bottle label closely but ultimately shook his head, “Yeah I can’t make it out either.”

He fished a pill out of the bottle and pinched it between his fingers looking at the front and back of the pill. “It doesn’t look familiar.”

Nam-gyu bit his lip in excitement, “I know, im telling you dude I’ve got a good feeling about this one.”

Thanos smiled, “Alright, down the hatch it goes.” He slipped the pill into his mouth, Nam-gyu following suit as they both swallowed it in sync.

————

“Dude, it’s been almost an hour and all I feel is a headache and my heart beating like crazy.”

Nam-gyu sighed, “Yeah, I know, this fucking blows.”

The sound of the door lock turning made them look back to see you stumbling into the house, closing the door behind you and sliding down it onto the floor.

“Hey there’s are Meredith Grey, how was work today ?” Nam-gyu called out to you.

Him and Thanos sat on the couch, watching a movie, with their heads turned to peer at you.

You could barely keep your eyes open, “Fucking exhausting.”

“Well we got you some food on the table, if you’re hungry.”

You perked up at the sound of food, you made yourself stand and walk over to the table. “Aww, thank you guys, this is a really sweet gesture.”

“Oh yeah, no problem, we know the long hard hours you work and wanna make sure you get the energy you need.”

You smiled at them, before grabbing your food and putting it in the microve. Once done, you sat down at the table and began munching down on your hot McSpicy with fries and washing it down with a coke.

You tilted your head, noticing the orange bottle of pills on the table in front of you for the first time. You picked it up and looked at the label, noticing that it wasn’t either of their names.

You rolled your eyes as you realized Nam-gyu must have stolen it from someone at the club. Curious though, you tried to look for the name of the drug but the label was too tattered to read it.

Thanos got up from the couch and joined you at the table, “Oh yeah, maybe you can help us out and tell us what this is.”

You huffed, “Please tell me you guys didn’t take one already, without knowing exactly what was going into your body ?”

“Eh, I wouldn’t worry too much y/n.” Thanos shrugged, “We took it an hour ago and still feel nothing except for our hearts racing but that could just be the weed we smoked earlier.”

You closed yours eyes at the mention of weed, “You mixed it with another substance ?”

“Yeah, but it’s just weed.” Thanos defended, “That’s not harmful, it’s like drinking alcohol.”

You smacked your hand in the middle of your face at his ignorance. “Thanos, mixing prescription drugs with alcohol can be lethal.”

“We only smoked weed, I was just comparing it to alcohol.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, “No, Thanos, I get that I was just saying-“ you sighed, “You know what nevermind, let me see if I can figure out what this is before I give myself a heart attack.”

You popped open the bottle and shook one out onto the palm of your hand. The pill looked fairly familiar and it wasn’t until you looked very closely at it to read the writing that you let out a laugh.

“What ?” Thanos asked, “What is it ?”

You closed your eyes, shaking your head with a big smile on your lips. “Hey Nam-gyu ?” You called out to him.

His head turned around, “Yeah, what’s up ?”

“Come here please.” You motioned him with your finger.

He raised his eyebrows and got up walking around the couch, your eyes along with Thanos’s were instantly drawn to the prominent hard on showing through his grey sweats. Nam-gyu sat down across from you completely oblivious to his situation.

“Who’d you get this from ?”

His eyes went to the blue pill in your hand, “Some older guy at the club tonight. I thought since woman were practically throwing themselves at him, he would have something that we would want, but turns out it was nothing. This shit is ass.” He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

The smile on your face grew even more, “Well typically Viagra only works if you’re sexually aroused.”

Nam-gyu’s eyes squinted in confusion not completely catching on yet, “Viagra ?”

Thanos froze for a second and then looked down, “Fuck.”

Nam-gyu’s head snapped to him, following his gaze and he chuckled, “Dude why are you-“ He blinked his eyes a couple times before looking down at his own erection.

You bit your lip to keep from laughing, “Yeah… so you guys took Viagra-“ You checked the pill again, “-And at the highest dose as well, wow.”

“Shit.” Nam-gyu commented, looking anywhere but at you.

“Good news is, since you only mixed it with weed there shouldn’t be too many side effects besides Tachycardia. Plus weed can increase the amount of Viagra in your system, making it last longer and amplifying its effects.”

They both looked at each other with worry and confusion. “What’s Tachycardia ?” Nam-gyu asked, looking back at you.

“It’s just means a faster than normal heartbeat.” You explained.

“Shit.” Thanos cursed under his breathe, “Y/n you gotta help us.”

You laughed, getting up from your seat and throwing your trash away. “Yeah not gonna happen, you two can suck each other off, I’m going to go sleep.”

You went to your room and shut the door, quickly switching into comfortable pj’s and snuggling under your covers.

A few hours later you awoke to someone shaking you lightly and whispering your name. You barely peeled your eyes open enough to make out the color of Thanos’s purple hair.

“Thanos…” You groaned, “What the fuck do you want ?”

“Y/n, you gotta help us.” His voice sounded panicky.

You whined, stretching your limbs, “Huh ? What are you saying ?”

“The Viagra we took earlier, remember ?”

You let out a soft laugh recalling the event suddenly, “What about it ?”

“It’s been two and half hours and we’re still hard as rocks.”

“Alright TMI.” You rolled over onto your side, your back facing him.

“Y/n-“ He pulled your arm down having your back lay against the mattress. “I’m not playing around, we both tried jacking off and came but nothing changed, we’re still hard and it’s starting to become painful.”

“Okay, I still don’t know what you expect me to-“

Thanos cut you off, attaching his lips to yours. This wasn’t the first time you two have kissed, sometimes when you would drink with them, you guys would get really steamy. Not just with Thanos but Nam-gyu too.

You moaned into the kiss, your fingers lazily running through his hair. He rolled himself on top of you, making you instantly feel his hard on pressed against your leg. You felt yourself clench at the thought of him inside of you.

You felt the bed dip next to you and looked over while Thanos kissed along your neck. It was Nam-gyu, he was feeling himself over his sweats as he watched you and Thanos play with each other.

When Thanos pulled away to remove his clothing, you crawled over to Nam-gyu. He leaned back onto his elbows as you made your way on top of him. You could hear his breathing pick up, as your face inched closer to his. You attached your lips to his and he moaned into the kiss as he tried pulling you more into him.

That’s the thing you loved about getting intimate with Nam-gyu, he was so needy.

One of his legs was trapped between your thighs and Nam-gyu bucked his hips up & down, humping your leg. He broke away from the kiss, releasing such loud sensual whines of desperation.

You began kissing his neck and his eyes rolled to the back of his head, hands clutching your hips to pull you even closer to him.

“Y/n.” You heard a deep voice call next to you.

You looked over to an exposed Thanos laying on the bed stroking himself, “Suck me off.” He commanded.

And this is what you loved about being intimate with Thanos, he was very dominating.

You licked your lips, nodding your head and crawling over between his legs. You grabbed the base of his cock and saw as his eyes glaze over with lust watching you. You licked a strip from where your hand was to his tip and felt him shiver beneath you before taking him into your mouth.

His hand tangled in your hair as you started to bob your head on him. You gagged around him when he shoved you down on his dick more, loving the sounds of you struggling to take him all in.

He released your head and you came up for air, a string of saliva being the only thing connecting you two at the moment. You wiped your mouth and Thanos sat up, swiftly unbuttoning your top.

You gasped at the cold air hitting your exposed skin, your nipples rock hard from it.

Thanos attached his mouth to one while his hand messaged the other. Your hand went to his hair lightly pulling on it. You felt vibrations against your skin as you heard him moan and noticed Nam-gyu, now fully naked as well, behind him. His arm was reached around Thanos’s waist, stroking his dick.

Thanos stopped what he was doing to you and turned around to focus on Nam-gyu. Attaching their lips as he fondled with his balls. Nam-gyu’s nails dragged down Thanos’s chest and he hissed into the kiss.

Thanos then detached his lips to spit in his hand. He reached down stroking Nam-guy’s leaking cock and watched as his mouth hung open, releasing such pretty moans for him as he looked at him through half lided eyes.

“God such a needy fucking slut for me, huh ?”

He whined, nodding his head as his hands hung onto his shoulders for support as he came undone; his cum spilling onto Thanos’s cock and lower abdomen.

Thanos grabbed him by the neck, his face only a few centimeters from his. “You better clean this shit up.”

“Y-yes sir.” Nam-gyu squeaked out.

Thanos released him, throwing him against the mattress. You watched as Thanos layed down and Nam-gyu quickly got up and crawled on all fours licking the cum from around his stomach.

You bit your lip at the sight, Nam-gyu was usually a shit talker who acted like he was a tough domineer but when it came to sex he was the complete opposite. Such a submissive, needy partner.

Nam-gyu was about to lick the cum off of Thanos’s dick but he stopped him. “Y/n-“ He used two fingers to motion you over and you listened crawling over to replace Nam-guy’s position next to him.

“Yes ?” You asked.

He rested his hands behind his head, “I want you to ride me.” You broke eye contact to look over at his cock that was decorated in Nam-gyu’s cum.

“Now.” He growled.

You swallowed, removing your shorts/underwear and positioning yourself on top of him. You grabbed his dick to line up with your entrance and felt the sticky substance coat your fingers. Nam-gyu’s cum mixed with your arousel made it very easy for you to sink yourself down onto him.

“That’s a good girl.” He moaned, placing his hands on your hips helping you bounce on his cock.

Your pace quickened when he slapped your ass with one of his hands and you moaned out his name. You felt him twitch inside of you and knew he was close. He pulled you into his chest and swiftly rolled you over so he was now ontop of you.

You didn’t have time to think as he thrusted himself into you, deeper and quicker this time. Your mouth hung open, moans falling out of it one after the other.

“Gonna cum.” Thanos grunted.

“P-please.” You begged, feeling yourself too close to the edge as well.

“Please what kitten ?” Asked, “You want me to cum in this tight pussy of yours, hmm ?”

You clenched around him in response and he groaned. “I need to hear you say kitten.”

Your nails marked up his back as you tried to form words, “P-p-please c-cum in me…”

He caressed his thumb on your cheek, “Such a good girl for me.” He said with a smile, “How could I say no ?”

His hand then went to your throat as he did three last hard thrust into you before spilling his warm cum into you. You came at the feeling of his cum filling you like a pastry and spilling out of you when he pulled out.

You never worried about either one them getting you pregnant because of all the drugs they took. Thanos layed beside you, instantly wrapping his arm around your waist with his head in the nap of your neck. It only took a few seconds for him to start snoring softly into your ear and you giggled a bit.

Nam-gyu who was fast asleep after Thanos had jerked him off; unconsciously rolled over pressing his chest against his back and you smiled at how cute they looked while sleeping. It didn’t take long for you to follow suit.

————

In the morning, it was your day off so you didn’t care too much that you slept in. The clock read 12:34 PM and you groaned as you stretched your limbs. You felt your ass damp and looked beneath the sheets suddenly remembering the events that took place last night.

You looked over and noticed the boys were no longer in your bed. You yawned, walking over to your bathroom and took a shower. Once done you threw on your clothes for the day and walked out your room into the kitchen. It smelled of eggs, bacon, hashbrowns making your mouth water.

“Well look who finally decided to wake up.” Nam-gyu snarked and you stuck out your tongue at him taking the chair across from him at the table.

Thanos scrapped the eggs out of the pan onto Nam-gyu’s plate that was full of food already. He pointed his spatula at you, “How many eggs you want ?”

“Two.” You said holding up two fingers as well.

Nam-gyu took a bite of his food and then stood up, “Mmm, before I eat I’m going to throw your sheets in the washer real quick.”

You nodded your head, “Thank you.” You called after him.

It wasn’t long before Nam-gyu returned and Thanos had made you and him a plate of food. Thanos sat in the chair next to Nam-gyu and everyone chomped down on their food.

“Do you need money for a plan B ?” Thanos asked, with an eyebrow raised.

You shook your head with a chuckle, “No. I’d be lucky enough if either of your guys’s sperm lasted two days in me.”

Nam-gyu looked at you confused, “What do you mean ?”

“You guys are so hopped up on drugs that your sperm cells aren’t the best. Even if they got me pregnant, I’d most likely have a miscarriage after a couple of weeks and not even know it.”

Nam-gyu’s eyes looked concerned, “Damn… that’s-uh kind of depressing.”

You shrugged your shoulders, “It’s not like you’re starting a family anytime soon and when you want to just slow down on the narcotics, yeah ?” He nodded his head going back to eating his food.

Once finished you set your dishes in the washer and thanked Thanos for the delicious food he prepared. You told them that you were going to go get your nails done and to not wait up for you. Thanos stopped you at the door handing you a wad of cash.

“What’s this ?” You asked.

“Money for your nails.”

You tried giving him the money back, “I’ve got it, you don’t have to-“

He shook his head, “I insist.”

“Really Thanos I don’t-“

He smirked, “Let me spoil you.”

You smiled, rolling your eyes at him, “Thank you.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek and walked out the door as he shut and locked it behind you.

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shanefuckingscott · 2 days ago

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NSFW Alphabet with Sevika 🦾

She's so daddy, I love her so much 🦾

I'm lowkey not that original, but I wanted to try it out. hehe

🚫Men and Minors DNI🚫

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Aftercare with her consists of her getting a towel, cleaning you up, holding you in her arms in silence, or she kisses your forehead until you fall asleep. And then right after, if she can't sleep, she'll just admire your sleeping naked body, and smiles to herself while lighting a cigar.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Her favourite part of her body is her mechanical arm. Although a pain to clean, she can't help but admire the weapon not just an extension of herself, but a part of her too. At fiirst, she kind of hated her prosthetic, but now, she like to tweak it once in awhile, (I wanna headcanon it vibrating, honestly, but she won't put it in you, to keep you from getting hurt, if anything were to malfunction.) and admires it once in a while. Although, it is a weapon, I mean you've seen how she flexes her arm during fight scenes, right? She's grown to love it.

For you, her favourite part of you is your hips. No further questions.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

She'll cum in your mouth when she face fucks you, anf make you lick her clean. Or, she doesn't, and she just looks down at your face with her cum in your mouth. She also does the same for you, but often, when she finger you, she'll make you suck all your cum off her fingers.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Sevika's dirty secret is that she secretly enjoys being a sub sometimes. Hey, she's a busy, and tired woman. Sometimes it just feels good to be the one to take. Although, she'd never bring it up, but let's just say she was more than eager, when you brought it up, although she pretended to be not be too fond of the idea to keep her dom personality.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

She frequents the brothel, she knows what she's doing, and she's excellent at it. Although, she's never had an experience subbing before, but she pretty much knows what she's doing.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any, as long as she can see your face, and tits bouncing.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

At first, she was very serious in bed when she was still trying to put up the act, but after awhile, she let down her walls, after you showed her it was okay to laugh during sex. But most of the time, it's very intimate, and serious.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Nope, I'm a Sevika bush truther, also, she's again a busy woman. And yes, I firmly believe she has a happy trail.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Before she met you, sex for her was just a way to let off some steam, no strings attached, no intimacy. But, when she met you, it was like her whole world flipped upside down. There's a first time for everything, right? During sex, she can get pretty rough, and she's all for the pleasure and all, but there are times after sex where Sevika would whisper sweet nothings into your ear, until you fall asleep, combing your hair, kissing your face, and cuddling you until, or during sleep.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

She rubs one out every so often when you're gone for too long, but she doesn't see the point of it when you're right there for her to fuck, right?

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks

Power play, humiliation kink, public sex, etc. etc. (I tbh can't think of a thing, it's just alot. heh.)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere, and everywhere. This woman is a rabbit, her libido can get in the way sometimes, so often, she'll just lull you aside, and fuck you right then and there. To the point where you don't even know where you HAVEN'T fucked yet.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Just you in general. Seeing you walk around, and your hips subtly sway? You're getting it. Drinking a glass of water? You're getting it.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Now that she's serious about you, her biggest no has got to be threesomes now. She's tried it before, but now, there's no intimacy in it. A big no for her is also making you, or her feel jealous on purpose. That woman values loyalty than anything, so if she sees anything that mocks her, or your commitment to each other, she's turning away. (I might just be projecting hehe)

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving of course. Unless ut's a long hard day, and she needs to blow off some steam, you'd be happy to give to her. Or ever so often, you guys would just 69, although it's not her favourite.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and hard. (Need I explain?)

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Often, but it's you that makes the quickie into an actual quicky. She gets lost in you, and she forgets that she has shit to do, so after an one orgasm, you remind her of her, or your task, and then continue on later.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Loves public, or semi public sex, where the both of you might get caught, but not actually. She's willing to experiment as much as you want. She'll never go through with something that neither of you want to do.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Until you pass out and die, to be honest. (haha, no) Until you say the safeword, or just as I said, until she fucks your brains out, until you pass out.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

She has alot of dildos actually, all different sizes, length, and color. Her favourite has got to be the shimmer strap though, and coming in to second place is the 7 inch one, that has her skin color. She also has vibrators that she'll use on you when you're out, when she's feeling particularly rougish that day.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

If you've been a brat all day, or you disobey her, she'll tease you to her heart's content. She can last hours just edging you, until you finally break. She's particularly patient in that sense.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Quiet grunts, heavy breaths, and all that, not very loud. But, if she's on the recieving end, she'll let out muted whimpers, but still not very loud, but just enough so it's hot and sexy.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

She let you use a vibrator for her once, and you kept teasing her all day, until she pulled you aside, and pleaded to let her cum. (That's subby Sevika for ya)

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Her tits are a nice B cup, her nipples are decent sized, and color cedar. She has a bush down there with a happy trail. Her pussy has a nice shade of brown, and her clit being a lighter one. (Oh my god, I tbh did not know what to write for this, and I had to google color names, I'm sorry 😭)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

High, I mean like high, high. You're both really turned on by each other, but often times, she'll fuck you any time she can. Can't blame her, you're just hot. Or she'll masturbate to your photos when you're out on a girl's night out, or when she's away for a business trip.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

When she's had a particularly long day, she's out like a light after sex. Just know she snores loud sometimes too, but that's pkay, you love her anyway. Or on normal days, she usually waits for you to fall asleep, so she can smoke a bit, and then comes back to hold you, and falls asleep herself.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I hope this was somewhat decent, hehe I warned you all from the very beginning, I am not a writer, heh. Just wanna try this out for fun, hope u like it.

#sevika #arcane sevika #sevika my love #arcane #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #arcane fluff #sevika my wife #sevika smut #sevika headcanon #sevika fanfic #sevika fluff #18+ mdni #mdni #league of legends #sevika x female reader #sevika x f!reader #big mama

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corvus-ix · 3 days ago

Text

Another You

Yandere Phainon x GN! Trailblazer Reader

Imagine Phainon have two close childhood friend, but he feel so much closer to the other than Cyrene

He doesn't understand why but he just does

Imagine how devetation he felt once he realizes his feelings but it was too late

Everyone and everything he know from Aedes Elysiae including his beloved is now gone

Phainon try not to linger through those memories for it only bring him back to that day

But most of the time he couldn't ignore the ache he feel in his chest

And then

You come, alongside Dan Heng and Caelus that day

He couldn't stop staring, he even try to impress you before Tribbie came up and interrupt them when he realizes what he was doing

Not once did he took his eyes from you, you just look so much like them

But that isn't right, you were suppose to be dead!

He try to start casual talk with you which was easy and it seems that you don't mind answering personal questions but not all questions was answer but he was fine with it

As You answer his question, not only the two of you lookalike but as if Phainon is talking to them at that very moment

Your likes, dislike, your favorite food, preference, it's like you never died to begin with!

And he couldn't help himself, Phainon start to visit and accompany you almost everywhere that rumors start to spread about a Chrysos Heir having a lover

Who could blame those bystanders, the way Phainon approach You is like a man courting his very beloved

Of course these rumors reach Your ears and your try to establish boundaries with Phainon

Phainon was disheartened but he didn't give up, just tome down his actions

And then one day

"I don't know Caelus, his nice and all but I'm starting to feel uncomfortable around him"

"Avoiding him will be kinda hard but he did push the boundaries you set"

"I don't know Dan Heng, NAME kinda have a valid point. Phainon barely leave their side and they way they look at them it's like he's full of...."

The other voice who might belong to Caelus cut off

He didn't mean to eavesdrop but he did and he stay in hope to hear more but he couldn't hear anymore from that cut off

Phainon was afraid, what if you distance yourself from him or worse leave him behind!

His heart won't be able to take it!

Phainon decided that for now, he'll be the ones who make some distance in hope not to scare you away

But one day he'll make sure your never able to leave his side ever again

He'll be damn if he ever lose you all over again

====================================

My original plan:

"I don't know, he remind me of Kevin so much but I know his not him.... Mei killed him long time ago..."

"I understand your anxiety but you shouldn't worry too much about it"

"I'm just afraid if Phainon will ever fall to same path as Kevin fall and I couldn't just watch it happen all over again"

He didn't mean to eavesdrop but he did and he stay

He remind you of someone name Kevin as much as You remind him of Them

You wouldn't mind if Phainon take Kevin place, would you?

At this point Phainon lose much reasoning and believe that your appearance is a gift from the Titans

And the uncanny similarities between the two of you and Him reminding you of Kevin

He'll be damn if he ignore those (non existent) signs and lose you all over again

Phainon is actually motivating me to write something for Kevin

Edit: forgot to add this but the Kevin Reader mentioned isn't HI3rd but the one in Acheron trailer and Acheron mentioned during her and Welt conversation at Penacony

#yandere hsr x reader #yandere phainon #phainon x reader #hsr x reader #hsr phainon x reader #yandere phainon x reader #honkai star rail x reader #gn reader #hsr #honkai star rail

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hoonieyun · 3 days ago

Text

a lovesick girl's guide to heartbreak

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ ex!heeseung x reader hell is not the same without you... summary: you thought everything was going well 3 months after your breakup with your ex-boyfriend!heeseung until you realized that maybe you miss him more than you hated being with him.

warnings: profanity, toxic relationships, morally grey characters, huge red flags in dating, consensual skinship, kissing, overall 18+ wc: 2332

something was missing, like there was a looming feeling that there was something absent from your daily life and as hard as you tried to push down that feeling and act like it wasn’t there; it was all your mind drifted off to.

the missing thing in question? heeseung.

your boyfriend of 2 years.. ex-boyfriend that is. the two of you had broken up just a few months ago and since that day you haven’t been able to stop thinking about him. sure a lot of the thoughts that surrounded heeseung that swam in your mind were negative and left a sour taste on your tongue, but then it would lead to you thinking about all of the sweet things he’d do to make up for the bitterness he put you through.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

“why can’t you just listen to me?” you shouted from the top of your lungs as heeseung rolled his eyes with an aggravated sigh. “i’d listen to you if you weren’t acting like this! you’re so emotional!” he yelled back.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

several memories replayed in your head involving heeseung, you wished you didn’t have to think about it but after you left him it felt like that was what was left of you. like you were no longer the person that you were when you were with heeseung. like he took something with him when you broke up and has refused to give it back.

you just weren’t sure what it was.

it shouldn’t be like this but you’re left in this limbo of uncertainty and heeseung was the only way of adding any solace or clarity, but he was no longer there. you hadn’t seen him since that night, broken dishes, cracked picture frames, and a hole in your chest where your heart is supposed to be. your relationship with heeseung started off how a lot of relationships start, it was great. he was sweet and so were you, your love overflowed into one another and it felt like everything was sunshine and rainbows and then one day, it wasn’t. you were spending nights crying yourself to sleep while heeseung would leave you to cry because he didn’t want to deal with the emotional mess that you were and still are.

that’s how your breakup went, you cried, you both yelled, and heeseung walked away. it was like a routine, a deadly cycle that neither of you could get out of until three months ago. this cycle was endless and exhausting yet it was all that you knew. as fucked up as it sounds, you found comfort knowing that you had heeseung on your side even if it didn’t seem like it.

even when he would walk away from you…

even when you felt like he was ignoring you to prove a point…

even when it felt like you were the one person that he hated most in this world…

no matter what, it felt like heeseung was always by your side. like a shadow that you couldn’t feel but was always there.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

your phone sat in your trembling hands as you contemplated on whether or not you should hit the send button. it was like the button on your phone had a strong gravitational pull and you found your thumb hovering over the button, the tiniest sliver of space between the skin of your thumb and the glass screen of your phone.

there wasn’t even any time to process your final thoughts before your thumb was making contact with the cold glass and the familiar sound of the text being sent rings throughout your bedroom, much louder than it should’ve sounded.

like it was an echo that rang in the room as a reminder of the decision you’ve just made.

hi hee.. i dont even know why i’m sending this im just so lost. i didnt ever think that i would be missing you the way i do right now but you’re all ive been thinking about the last few months. i miss the way you hugged me when i would cry.. granted i’d be crying because of you. i miss when you would whisper sweet things into my ear when my brain got too loud and would lead to arguments. i just miss you so much and you might not even respond to this but i just.. i miss you..

whether it was a good or bad decision however, was still out for debate.

surprisingly enough, another familiar sound rings throughout your room, indicating that you have received a text message.

hey pretty girl. i’m so happy to hear from you, can i come over?

it was short but definitely effective because you were responding in seconds and telling him that you’d leave the door unlocked to which he tells you that he still has a copy of your house key and would be there in no time.

your heart was pounding a lot harder than moments before, like you had just put yourself in a life or death situation and in a lot of ways you did. death more than life. being with heeseung felt like two things, heaven and hell. it was either bliss or chaos whenever you were with him and neither heaven or hell was the same without him.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

you had decided to change into your pajamas that just happened to be heeseung’s favorite. a pair of silk pajamas that barely left any imagination of what you looked like underneath; hence why it was his favorite. you’re brought out of your thoughts when you hear a knock on your bedroom door as it slightly creaks open, revealing heeseung who looked like he was going through just as much as you were.

it was slightly comforting to know that in the time you were broken up until now, you weren’t the only one suffering.

you muttered a whispered “hi” as he walked towards your figure sitting on the bed. the closer heeseung got the more visible his eyebags were. he looked like he hadn’t slept in days, his hair a mess, and he was wearing the same hoodie that he was wearing when you told him to “get the fuck out i fucking hate you” all those months ago.

“hi, pretty girl. are you ok?” he asks, even though you both knew that you were the furthest from “okay”.

he stands right in front of you and gently cups your face to look up at him, his touch instantly brings you warmth and a sense of comfort that you wouldn’t associate with him, not for the last year at least.

“hee… i miss you.. but-” you begin to say and he interrupts you by softly rubbing your cheek with his thumb. a simple action that brings chills down your spine as you think about all of the other times he soothed your mind with that gesture. melting into his touch wasn’t something you weren’t accustomed to but this all felt so foreign and uncertain even if you knew where it was going.

you were now back to the cycle that you were once in.

“but?” he says, squatting down so that you two were somewhat on the same level.

“i don’t know if it’s a good idea to want you. i miss you everyday that you’re gone but it doesn’t bring comfort knowing how much you hurt me..” a hiccup slips past your lips as you speak and heeseung is finally seeing what he’s done. you looked utterly broken and he knew it was because of him. his pretty girl that he loved so much was shattered and ruined because of him and he wished that he had realized it sooner.

“baby.. shh.. its okay.” heeseungs says, pulling you into his arms as you cry into his chest. his hoodie getting soaked as you let out your emotions that he shamed you for in the past. “everything is okay, baby..” hee coos, rubbing the back of your head gently as you wrap your arms around him.

if heeseung was being honest, he didn’t know what to do in this situation and it was only making him realize further how shitty he was. he barely knows how to comfort the girl he loved so much and it was breaking his heart. it may seem selfish that he was reveling in his own discernment and that he’s trying to wrap his head around his past mistakes instead of the one currently crying in his lap.

“i’m sorry, yn.. i’m sorry, please stop crying, baby..” he whispers into your ear, hugging you even tighter than before as if you were going to slip away from his grasp any second now.

he doesn’t know what to do now and he didn’t then.

it was like you guys had each other wrapped around one another’s finger, knowing that one way or the other, one of you would crawl back and start the cycle all over again no matter how many times you may think it’s finally over.

the two of you stayed that way for one moment, in one another’s embrace, your heartbeats syncing up with one another and for once in a long time; your hearts were in the same place. you were finally on the same page when it came to your love for each other even if it meant being in a place of uncertainty… you were sure of one thing, the love you had for each other, if you could even call it that, was something you couldn’t lose.

“heeseung.. will you stay?” coming out of your lips as you slightly pull away from him, your eyes originally intending to land on his doe eyes but instead they fall onto his plump lips that glistened just the right amount from the small light in your bedroom. “i’ll stay only if you want me to.” he responds and you nod eagerly, like it was the only thing you could want.

and in a lot of ways, it was.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

that night you slept in heeseung’s arms, a place you once vowed to never return to but as a cycle rounds itself, you found that his embrace was the place you were the most familiar with even if loving heeseung only brought uncertainty and a sense of unfamiliarity that brought you so much dread that you never know if the world you were living in was a heaven that wasn’t anything like you expected or a hell that was much worse than the words you’d hear on a sunday morning.

however, no matter where you were; you wanted heeseung to be there because none of it would be the same without him.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

“good morning, pretty girl.” heeseung says, his voice was low and a bit raspy as he pulled himself up from laying next to you. you stirred as he readjusts himself, turning to face him and he’s got a smile on his face you haven’t seen in a while. a smile you loved so much and the longer the two of you were together… it began to fade away. it only appeared for special occasions like birthdays or anniversaries, then one day; heeseung just never smiled the same way ever again.

you sat up, wrapping your blanket around yourself as you situated yourself in front of heeseung who did the same. “hee.. what are we doing?” you asked, the events of last night replaying in your head as you recall crying into heeseung’s chest and him trying his best to comfort you.

“whatever you want, my love.” heeseung was good at that. saying all the right things to make it seem like everything was just that, alright. he would soothe your worries with empty promises, a soft rub on your back, and a gentle kiss on your lips.

a kiss… something you craved from heeseung.

“we’re too toxic for each other… but i don’t think i ever want to lose you. you’re all i’ve ever known and i feel even more lost when i’m without you. there’s so many signs that tell me to turn around, to stop, that this is just a dead end, but if i just keep ignoring the signs– it always leads me back to you.

it always leads back to you, hee..

i don’t ever want to lose you but… can we even do this without falling apart?”

heeseung looks at you momentarily, eyes flickering from your own eyes to your lips, something he also craved to feel.

“you’ll never lose me, not even if you push me away… i’ll always pull you back no matter what. i don’t care what anyone says, they don’t know us like we know each other. the way i know your brain and body… and even soul.

you’re mine and i’m yours, even if it destroys us.” heeseung’s face has gotten a lot closer with each word he speaks, nose slightly grazing yours.

“i love you, ok?” he says and after a long time, you believe it. like he was willing to fix up any of the issues you two had if it meant that he could hold you every night as the two of you drift off to sleep. your dreams being filled with your happiest moments with each other instead of the nightmare of losing one another.

you jump onto heeseung’s lap to which startles him at first but your hear his low chuckle in your ear as he embraces you in his arms. you would’ve said i love you back but you weren’t sure if you would mean it or if it would even change anything.

you guess you’ll just have to see in a few weeks to know if things have changed and if the cycle is finally broken. your life was nothing without heeseung and whether or not you loved him was uncertain– you did, however, know that nothing was the same without him.

"toxic" meovv the usage of song lyrics is credited to the artists above

all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.

if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

heart not broken enough? let's try again... ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ᡣ•.•𐭩♡ @pagemiah @jiiyen @jnysaln @xh01bri @rairaiblog @laurradoesloveu @17ericas @manaah02 @heeseung64 @zorange13 @firstclassjaylee @leipforggy

@river-demon-slayer @ikeulove @fluerz @dazzlingjaeyun @pjselee @multistansimp4life @yunthejin @urmomdotcom5678 @heebear

#kiki diaries #enhypen #en-diaries #kpop #kpop au #kpop fic #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #enha #fanfiction #enhypen au #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines

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