#claim its for sun protection

[anbaisai]

Care for a dip in the pool? The lifeguards may be marketable plushies, but they're 100% reliable!

(Scarabia lifeguard AU belongs to @natsukishinomiyaswife, you can check out the tsum post here!)

[for-ests]

When I talked to the moon last night, I told her about you.

husband!gojo x reader drabble. he loves his wife SO much. just little romantic rituals.

∘∙∘☾𖤓∘∙∘

Shirtless, leaning against the railing of his balcony, Gojo exhaled blissfully. The curtains from inside flapped against the wind, reminding him that he hadn’t slid the doors shut. But he didn’t mind, as he was able to view your half-covered body tangled in his sheets, chest rising and falling in slow, peaceful breaths. A smile on your face despite the deep slumber he lulled you into. 

Satoru did promise that you would never fall asleep without a smile on your face if you married him. 

And he was proud to keep it. 

You were everything to him, and he found a routine to follow after making love to you—wandering out to his balcony to thank the moon, the stars, or whatever was shining down on him from above. Like he often did as a child, gazing up at the moon as if it contained all of life’s answers, as if its wisdom whispered the key to your happiness. 

Satoru found solace in the moon. And when the moon told him about the sun, he told the moon about you. The brightest, most important star in his universe. Nothing would ever outshine you in his mind. 

He was so lucky to have you, and a day never passed without him acknowledging it. 

Overcome with emotion, Satoru’s fingers tightened around the metal railing, slumping over it, as if he was afraid to keep gazing at the moon and its brilliance. The same overwhelming understanding washed over him. Gazing up at the moon was the equivalent of looking into your eyes. 

Such beauty. An indescribable force. You. His Goddess. How lucky he was to have you by his side, in his bed, in his life. 

The brightness from outside shined so perfectly into your eyes, that they flickered open. As you sat up, the first thing you saw was your husband on the balcony, deep in thought. 

The muscles of his back seemed to contort under the moonlight. Your husband was so melodramatic. 

“Is it a full moon tonight?” You whispered groggily from behind, not giving him a moment to reply before embracing him and resting your head against his back. 

He didn’t need to ask why you joined him, as the first few times he asked, you always mumbled a cute and tired, “Toru, you know I can’t sleep without you.” 

Chuckling softly, Gojo turned around to face you and pulled you into his chest. “Look for yourself, my love,” he whispered, pressing a light, gentle kiss on your forehead. 

Exhaling, your nose scrunched, a playful glint in your eyes as you glanced up at him. Every time he held you so tightly, so carefully and protectively, you felt like you were falling in love with him all over again. 

The brightness of the moon was clear, and it seemed to light up the entire sky, casting shadows along the drifting clouds, and highlighting Gojo’s features. Sometimes, it was hard to believe he was your husband. How lucky you were. 

“What is the moon saying tonight?” you teased with a lighthearted tone. 

Satoru claimed that the moon told him to marry you, after all. You are my sun, Y/N. He whispered every time he had to depart from you. 

Without the sun, the moon would know nothing but darkness. And every morning, the light and joy you greeted him with was an everlasting reminder that he found his other half. 

Glancing back to the stars dotting the sky, hardly visible from the moon’s brilliance, Gojo’s eyes twinkled. “The moon congratulated me.” 

Arms slipping around his waist, you questioned in a curious murmur. “For what?” 

His head tilted back to gain a better look at you. “Somehow convincing you to marry me.” He smiled sleepily, leaning down to capture your lips again. Kissing you would never grow tiresome, it was the action he looked forward to most every morning and every night. It was like he would die without it. 

“Well the sun knows it didn’t take much convincing.” You took both of his hands in yours and tugged him back to the door’s entrance. “But maybe I can ask it again in the morning.” 

“Just to make sure?” He smiled. 

Falling back into the king-sized bed, you sighed innocently, beckoning Gojo to follow you. Once he did, you cuddled up next to him. One hand on his cheek, you pressed your lips against his. 

“The sun makes no mistakes, my love,” you mumbled against his lips. 

[orphicmeliora]

You were sure you had dreamed it all.

Thin streaks of sunlight peaked into the room, the signs of a rising sun apparent through the glass windows. You were laying in the middle of a huge, empty bed, the sheets felt like spider-silk brushing against your skin, your hair splayed out like dark waves over the pillow.

You're body ached in places you couldn't even name.

You traced the tips of your fingers over your body, naked in all its glory—the blankets having been kicked off long since and you were in no hurry to cover up. You felt it all like a phantom ache that refused to be banished from your subconscious.

You remembered the way his hands, like vipers pulled you close in an embrace of sin. Laying you down on the bed, undressing you one article of clothing at a time like unwrapping a gift so preciously adorned, while you panted puffs of air, so restless in the face of your desires.

Your hands ghosted over your stomach and remembered the way he had pushed down on it when you tried to sit up and undress him with your clumsy limbs. Remembered his warning glance and the things it did to your head. So impatient, he had clicked his tongue. Your efforts to hasten things only resulted in him growing more languid in his ministrations.

When your fingers brushed your chest, you remembered the way his eyes had darkened, his tongue peaking out of his mouth and you longed to catch it with yours, as your chest rose and fell with each heavy breath. Remembered how his fingers worked you up to a high so addicting and then as his mouth, a warm cavern on a chilly night, joined the fray—and how it all came loose. The embarrassed whine that left your lips as you tried to hide your face but he wouldn't have that—he wanted to watch everything.

As your fingers traced up your neck, more memories flood into your mind. The smirk on those sinful lips when you'd throw your head back seeking reprieve from the intense waves of your pleasure and he'd cease the opening you left—opportunist man that he is—and descend on your neck, teeth and tongue lathering you in marks with all the restraint of a starved man before a hot meal. And you'd have no choice but to grasp his hair to drag him up and look him in the eyes. Your man was weak for eye contact and crumbled easily.

The pads of your fingers caressed your face and you remembered the way his breath had brushed your skin as he whispered filthy promises in your ears. Remembered his hands caressing and grabbing as they traveled down your body. The gasps and moan he tore out of you and simultaneously stole as he claimed your lips.

You rubbed your thighs together and remembered the other wicked things he'd done to you.

You were so sure you had dreamed it all, but you remembered it all too vividly for it to be just a dream. Maybe the longing had made you sick.

With a lovesick smile you turned on your side, unwilling to get out of bed just yet—

You ceased all movements. Heart pounding wildly against your ribs.

There he sat leaning forward on the chair, legs spread and elbows planted on his knees. His shirt was unbuttoned all the way leaving his skin bare for your eyes to feast upon but you could hardly focus on that when he was looking at you like that.

The hungry look in his eyes set your senses ablaze. His smile—akin to a predator's—sent shivers down your spine. As if all that action just mere hours ago wasn't enough to satisfy him. Perhaps, just perhaps, he had longed for this too.

You immediately missed the protection of the blanket on your skin.

"Is the show over?" He asked smugly, the air around him turned thick with complacency. Your skin flushed red as you recalled how you were feeling yourself up shamelessly right in front of him!

He stood up, striding toward the bed. His rakish intentions clear in his eyes. Feeling shy under his hungry gaze, you tried to clutch a pillow close to yourself. Keyword being tried.

In two quick motions, he had your wrists pinned above your head with one hand and the other gripped your hip. He pressed his body down to yours leaving nary a distance between you two.

"Didn't I tell you," he whispered against your lips, his voice a raspy and deep baritone symphony, "never to hide yourself from me?"

You whined something incoherent back to him.

He chuckled, the sound shooting straight to your core. His hand on your hip traced a path ever so slowly down your thighs and to your knees where he tapped twice.

"Spread your legs, love." His tone sounded reprimanding yet his eyes gleamed with perverse satisfaction. "Seems like I'd have to remind you all over again in great detail this time."

How could you ever refuse him when he looked at you like that?

[whoistartaglia]

at every table, i’ll save you a seat

and other small gestures genshin men make to show that they love you

this fic’s spiritual successor (“part two”)

wanderer covers the edge of the table whenever you bend down to pick up something. he claims it’s because you’re so unbelievably clumsy that you’re likely to hit your head on the way up. all mortals are so fragile, it’s the least he can do for you to protect “what’s left inside that thick skull of yours.”

diluc flips over your pillow if you get up to go to the bathroom or get a drink of water during the night. you’ll return to a nice cool pillow and practically fall asleep once your head hits it. if you should ever question how diluc always wakes when you do, he doesn’t. he’ll turn over the pillow in his sleep, your comfort overiding his subconscious.

kaveh reminds you if you have everything you need before going out. there’s nothing more he hates more than forgetting something at home and certainly doesn’t want you to experience that. if you find you are missing something, he’ll run and grab it for you. you don’t know who’s more relieved: you or him.

childe makes you snacks when you’re working. he grew up with siblings, he knows how to help you when you’re feeling stressed or just need an energy boost. his creations can range from ridiculously childish snacks like ants on a log or culinary masterpieces. whatever he feels you need at the time.

zhongli buys you random gifts. they can range from some candies he thinks you’ll enjoy to hair pieces crafted with the finest of jewels. most of the he’ll give them to you directly, but other times he leaves them out for you to find them: next to the bed, on your desk, in your bag. they tend to increase around the holidays, your birthday, or whenever zhongli simply feels like spoiling you.

xiao always opens the door for you. you can’t remember the last time you opened a door when you were with him. he doesn’t necessarily insist on doing it either; he just does. it’s become involuntary for xiao at this point. xiao see door, xiao open door for you.

kaeya always saves you a seat, at every table, at every meal. whether it’s he arrived at the tavern earlier than you or he’s sitting on a bench and thinks you may pass him on your way home, the seat right next to him is always yours. he wouldn’t have anyone else sitting there but you.

alhaitham reads to you when you can’t sleep. you don’t even need to ask him, either. ten minutes of you twisting and turning and he’s got the light back on, book open in his hands. sometimes, it will be his own research, which can put you to sleep instantly, but othertimes its chapters from a novel you both adore. this can have the opposite effect, with him reading until the sun rises and you haven’t got a wink of sleep.

[httpsleclerc]

the second date

pairings: Charles Leclerc x Single!Mom!Verstappen!Reader, Charles Leclerc x Romy Verstappen (BABY!OC)

summary: A peak into yours and Romy's second meeting with Charles

warnings: none for this part!

word count: 1.7k

a/n: I really love this little part I think its so cute! Let me know what you think by leaving a comment here or in my inbox!

series masterlist // main masterlist

The sun beamed down on Monte Carlo, an accurate symbol of how you had been feeling in the days since your first meeting with Charles. Talking to and with him, you felt like you could almost forget everything that had happened with Lukas - Almost. You were well aware that you would always have constant reminder of your ex, but that was in no way Romy's fault, you had spoken to Max and Kelly, proposing the idea to them that until or if she asked, you wouldn't tell your daughter about her father, and even then, depending on her age, you would only tell her the appropriate parts - That at some point he had been a good man, and that there came a point where you did what was best for her.

Max had laughed, saying that you were being too polite by calling Lukas a good man - Claiming that that would have been like calling Jos father of the year. Kelly had elbowed him after that, telling you that that sounded like a good plan.

You looked down, smiling at Romy as she curiously eyed all of the trees and greenery above her, giving you a gummy smile as she saw your face in her vision. You adjusted the umbrella to cover her face, protecting her sensitive skin from the harsh rays of the sun - You and Kelly had laughed as you asked Max if he could help you try and apply a layer of sunscreen onto Romy, which you two had known would be no easy feat. However, your older brother, seemingly the baby soother, had managed to apply not one, but two layers of heavy duty sunscreen onto your daughter.

"I see you, Romy," You spoke to her, fondly smiling as she babbled back to you. "Oh you're very talkative, I think you know who we're going to see." You said, scanning for the brunette Monegasque, waving over to him as you saw him sitting on a bench.

It had been Charles' idea to meet you in Romy in a more secluded park in a beautiful area of Monte Carlo, Max had told him that you would most likely need worked up to going to busier areas, especially with Romy. You had always been anxious, your older brother knew that better than anyone did, but he couldn't imagine how you would be feeling having been isolated for so long and going back into such busy environments, never mind adding the single most precious thing in your life into the mix. So, Charles had thought of the small, yet beautiful park that his parents had brought himself and his brothers to as children.

He was trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach he got when he saw you make your way over to him, smiling as he heard Romy babbling from within her stroller. He knew that it would be wrong to propose a relationship to you right now, considering the relationship you had just come out of - He understood if you just wanted to be friends for a bit, he loved both you and Romy too much to miss out on anything.

"Hello you two," He greeted you, a charming smile on his face. You had to admit, Charles was incredibly handsome, but you had always known him to be.

"Hi Charles, nice to see you again," You said cheerily, putting the brake on Romy's stroller so you could lift her out and on to your lap, settling down on the bench beside Charles. "You picked a beautiful day." You told him, smiling as you placed your daughter on your lap, letting her play with the rings on your fingers. 

"I know, you know my parents used to bring me and my brothers here? I thought that maybe it could be something we could do with Romy," He said, only to stumble over his words as you looked at him, your eyebrows furrowed. "Nono, I-I didn't mean like a date or anything like that...not that I don't want something like that with you! I think you're really pretty and Romy is the most perfect little girl and-...I am making a fool of myself, aren't I?" He held his head in hands, his cheeks heating up as he realised how much he had been rambling.

You giggled, placing your free hand on Charles' back as a means to try and comfort him. He looked up at you, a blush creeping over his cheeks as he made eye contact with you.

"I'd love to do this with you as a tradition, Charles, I um...I just don't think that I'm quite ready for anything more than friends right now," You told him - Charles was at least happy that you could be honest with him, instead of dating him out of pity for his inability to shut up. "I really like being friends with you, Cha, Romy loves you too. You really make me feel listened to, in a way that Max and Kelly don't really get - they look after Romy and I but you..you're different, but in a good way." You assured him, smiling as you ran your hand up and down his back.

As if sensing his sadness, Romy started wriggling in your arms, babbling as she reached for Charles, who immediately perked up as the small girl reached out for him.

"Can I?" You nodded, you loved how he asked before taking your daughter out of your arms. You softly smiled, seeing how content both him and your daughter were with each other - You had seen Charles in interviews, talking about he had wanted 3 children, you could see him outnumbered by girls, begging their daddy to do their hair and play princesses and tea parties. It was funny, you had never imagined yourself having kids, especially not one at 22, but now that you had Romy, you couldn't imagine your life without it, it felt like her being here with you, she completed you - She was your baby and you were her mother, nothing could ever, and would ever change that. "She's so cute, and I see that she let you put her socks on her this time." He recounted, making you laugh as you remembered the day that you had first met up with Charles, more specifically you remembered the 15 minute battle you had with Romy about putting her socks on.

"Max actually got her sorted for today, you would be surprised at how good he is with babies," Charles nodded - He, more than anyone, was probably most familiar with how you and Max were raised, so hearing you talk about how great that your older brother was with your daughter, was almost a shock; Two people who he had expected to want nothing to do with children, had become in closest contact with them, with you being a mother and Max having such a close bond with Penelope. "I'm going to go get something to drink, do you want anything?" You offered him with a smile, watching as Romy, who normally screamed and cried any time you left her, remained perfectly happy in Charles' arms.

"Just a water please, cherie," He responded, gently bouncing Romy on his knee as he watched you nod and walk away, over to the small concessions stand. "Such a pretty girl, aren't you Romy? Just like your mama." Charles spoke to the baby girl on his lap, grinning as she giggled and clapped her small hands together, babbling to him. He sighed as he sat back against the bench, Romy resting against him as she settled down - Charles was thankful he hadn't made a complete fool of himself, although disappointment did weigh on the fact that you weren't looking for a relationship at the moment; However, he understood, and would continue with your friendship.

You made your way back over to the bench where Charles and your daughter sat, Romy having settled against him, almost asleep on his chest. 

"Oh, she um...I think she's asleep, Charles," You said quietly, placing a hand on your daughter's small back. He looked down, noticing that Romy, had in fact, fallen asleep on him. He looked up at you, clearly never having had a baby fall asleep, judging by the almost bewildered look in his eyes. "It's okay, just relax, I'll put her in the stroller so she can sleep with the sun umbrella covering her." You told him, lifting your sleeping daughter off of his chest so he could move without fear of waking her. Making sure that she was in securely, you sat back down, handing Charles the water you had bought him.

"She's so calm, I don't think I've seen a baby sleep so much or fuss so little," You chuckled at Charles' thoughts on your daughter. "Uh oh, that tells me otherwise." He grinned, prompting you to tell him more.

"She's cute, but she uses it to her advantage. She's got her uncle Max wrapped around her little finger already, Kelly and I told him off the other day because she was being fussy because Max had a stroopwafell and she wanted some," You told him, smiling as you remembered the look on your brothers face as Kelly told him off, while you attempted to take the sweet treat out of your daughter's tight grasp. "Getting her onto solids has also been a nightmare, she's a fussy little monster sometimes."

"I bet you wouldn't change her for the world," Charles smiled fondly at you, watching as you studied your sleeping baby carefully. You shook your head, turning to look at the Monegasque once more.

"Absolutely not, I wish I could change her father, but the only plus from him was that he gave me her...my baby girl," You smiled widely, your heart beaming with nothing but adoration for the life that you created. He also smiled, watching you with the same adoration, even if you didn't share the sentiment right now, Charles was almost certain you shared the same feelings, and he would wait until you were ready.

<3

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[dark-moonlust]

The Griffin’s Claim

Pairing: griffin x f!human reader Summary: your mate is obsessed with flying in the sky while you are strapped to his cock. He wants to keep your pussy stretched and filled. Warnings: minors don’t interact, 18+!!, oral(fem receiving), tail stimulation, big 🍆, p in v sex, flying while strapped, lots of 💦.

This is one of my top fav smut. Please let me know if you liked it!!!

It was a lovely morning, and you had just finished your chores at the village. You walked deep within the forest, then headed up the slope, waiting at the clearing. It had been six months since you’d started dating your griffin, and despite your differences you had learned how to work things out. Interspecies matings were rare but not impossible in your age and time. With patience, you had even managed to take your boyfriend’s monster cock, though he was still training you to accept more pleasure.

At that thought, your pussy became wet and you rubbed your thighs to alleviate the need.

You heard your mate approach before you saw him.

The dense forest around you seized to exist as the powerful griffin you called yours, descended from the sky. He flapped his powerful wings with its colorful feathers, his body strong and lean, that of a lion. He had the head of an eagle, a long tail and wings that spanned wide across the sky. His eyes were sharp and bright amber, and they could see miles ahead.

Right now, his eyes were fixed on you as he landed gracefully before you. He was huge and tall, four times your height and tones heavier. But he was also so tender with you. He held you close to his tawny lion coated body, his wings coming to envelope your smaller frame. You buried your face in his fur, feeling completely protected while his beak nuzzled against your face.

“Ready to go home, my mate?” he asked, his voice husky. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too, my love.”

Smiling you prepared to ride his back when he stopped you with a soft click of his tongue. “Aren’t you forgetting something, sweetheart?”

You pouted, shifted nervously because you knew what he meant. He wanted to strap you to his cock while flying. It was one of his ways to stretch your pussy. You had tried it a couple of times, always in the dead of the night when no one could see you. You still recalled how deep he had fucked you while soaring the sky. And the orgasms… they were so intense and toe-curling.

“Again? I… I don’t know if I can do this,” you muttered, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and thrill.

“You’re my mate,” he said, his shining amber eyes gazing into yours. “You can do this and you should be proud of that. Proud of taking my cock so beautifully.”

His words caused more liquid heat to pool in your pussy. “But… it’s broad light and someone might see. It’s shameful.”

He let out a low, rumbling chuckle. “Shameful? No, my sweet. It’s necessary. Because your tight pussy needs lots of preparation. It will take me at least half an hour to fly us back to our home, and that’s more than enough time to stretch your soaked little cunt around my cock.”

“People might see…” you trailed off, eyes lowering to the ground.

“Oh, I will make sure they see how gorgeous you are.”

With a gentle yet firm grip, he turned you around, lowering you on your hands and knees. You whimpered but obeyed as his large, clawed hands tore your clothes, tossing them away. You felt the sun kiss your bare skin. He really was going to prepare you for this. And your treacherous core clenched at that thought.

Sitting down behind you, your mate caressed the lines of your body, careful of his claws. “Smooth and soft.”

Strong hands cupped your breasts, enfolding them completely in his strong grip. He felt them up, massaging the pert mounds that were far too small in contrast to his massive palms. He rubbed around your aching nipples, flicking the buds. You whined and pressed back against him, seeking more. His touch trailed down your belly and he gripped your hips, spreading your legs apart and bearing your pussy and ass to his view.

“Let’s loosen you up so you can take my cock deep, hmm?” he said, his voice a husky whisper.

“Please… it’s so open here—”

“Be a good girl for me,” he said, slapping your bum lightly and causing you to jerk.

“Hey!”

Another slap, this time closer to your pussy.

You whined and wiggled your ass.

“Be good or else I’ll fuck both your naughty holes, cock in your pussy, tail in your ass.”

You stayed still at the (delectable) threat. “I’ll be good.”

Chuckling darkly, he leaned closer and opened his wings to shield you as his hot breath ghosted over your pussy. You bit back a whine and closed your eyes when he licked you up, his wide tongue lapping at your entrance. You clutched the soil and moaned softly as he ate you out, tilting his head slightly to the side, so that he didn’t hurt you with his beak. His tongue was blessedly long and it worked its way inside you, stretching and fucking your hole until you were panting with need, your embarrassment giving way to pleasure.

“Look at you,” he purred as he watched your pussy flutter. “So wet, so ready for me. Fuck… I want to be so deep inside you.”

Before you could respond, he positioned his front legs at the sides of your head, his underbelly pressing against your spine. The tip of his massive cock pressed against your entrance, probing carefully. It popped in with a wet sound and you both moaned loudly. A slow, deliberate thrust and he pushed further inside, pushing past the resistance of your body, filling you inch by inch. You cried out and arched back, the stretch almost too much to bear once he bottomed up inside you.

The angle was intense, his cock filling you so deep that your belly bulged with his size. You felt the fat head kissing your cervix, his ridges and protrusions stimulating your walls. Taking his dick seemed almost impossible but not painful, even if you were a human. You were his fated one, it was the reason why you could mate so intimately with him.

“Damn, so tight,” he growled as he thrusted deep, drawing back his cock which was laved in your juices before slamming back in. “But you’re taking me so well, such a good mate. Such a good cunt.”

His tail sneaked between your thighs, the tip rubbing your clit. You blabbered inarticulate words, your body trembling beneath him, his deliberate ministrations blindsiding you. Mating and fucking your monster boyfriend was no simple job. It took much more work than a regular human relationship. But you’d change nothing. You wanted him so much and it felt so good to be filled by him, body and soul.

Wet squelching sounds echoed through the clearing as you rocked against your mate, taking his monster shaft over and over. Your cunt stretched and tried to suck him in, fitting him like a glove. He growled and pounded his talons on the ground and it didn’t take long for both of you to reach your peak.

You came first, white-hot pleasure exploding like lightning bolts and taking over your body. Your whole frame trembled violently as he buried his shaft deep and released with a shrill, probably alerting the whole forest. Thick, hot ropes of cum flooded your insides, his seed like a torrent at first then turning into ripples that slowly stopped.

Drawing back, his large cock left your pussy with a lewd squelch. You whined, feeling his seed trickle down your folds then drenching your thighs. Turning you head gently, his beak traced your lips in imitation of a kiss. When you opened your mouth, his long, flexible tongue slipped inside to explore your mouth. Your tongues danced together, and you tasted your arousal on his tongue.

”Now, let’s get you strapped on, sweetheart,” he said, his eyes glinting down at you.

“Pl…ease,” you whimpered, your voice a breathless plea. “It’s too much…”

“Is it painful, little one? Is that why you are so against it?”

“No!” you said firmly. “It’s just… I’m so sensitive, I’m gonna cum again—”

“Great. I want you cumming again and again, making a mess all over.”

With that, he rolled you on your back and lowered his body, so you were under his lion underbelly. Using his beak, he released the leather bindings at his sides and pressed even closer to you, his cock throbbing against your cum-stained pussy. Gulping audibly, you looked at his shaft; it had a stout round tip and surrounding ridges and protrusions along its length. And it was still rock hard, jutting against your folds proudly.

Your breath hitched when he thrust forward, impaling you in one smooth glide. You were far too wet and he stretched you open once again, taking away your ability to think with how deep and big he was. This time he didn’t fuck you. He stayed buried deep inside, your belly bulging against his own.

“Now strap the bindings safely around you,” he ordered softly, his eyes leaving no room for refusal.

Breathing shakily, you began to secure the buckles that cradled your bum, then the ones that fastened around your waist. It wasn’t an easy task… with his cock throbbing deep inside you and his fur rubbing against your sensitive nipples. After some minutes of fumbling and moaning at the friction, you managed to seal your body to his, both of you locked as one. You wrapped your arms around his body, your legs up in the air.

Your mate tested the security of the bindings, shifting to his full height, taking you with him. Suspended in the air, you nearly sobbed at the sensations. The slightest movements caused his cock to plunge and tease your insides. Your mate growled low, affected by the feel of you as he walked back and forth, with your weight under him, his cock pulsing inside you. Then he stood on his back talons, embracing you with his front legs. Just to make this doubly secure.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice a soothing rumble. “Feel how deep I am? That’s how I want you to take me. All the time.”

You could only hum and he spread his wings, his powerful muscles flexing as he prepared to fly. With a mighty leap, he took to the sky, the wind rushing against your skin, combined with the constant pressure of his cock inside you. Each beat of his wings took you high above the trees until the forest landscape became a distant blur. His cock drove you wild, and you couldn’t help but moan loudly, the sound lost in the flapping of his wings.

“That’s it,” he said loud enough for your to hear. “My perfect human mate, so full and stretched around me.”

The fly back home passed in a blur of moans and bliss. He gave you one orgasm after another, his seed filling you, leaking down your thighs in obscene amounts. He floated low enough to show you off, roaring proudly as he marked you for all to see, the scent of him bathing you. By the time you reached home, you were covered in his cum, exhausted but blissfully fucked.

Please let me know what you think? Comments and reblogs would make me super happy!

[lavenders388]

Hey! i was wondering if you can write a fluff story of kang dae ho x reader in the games! just about him being protective and stuff if you know what i mean!

~When the Sun Hits~

✩°𓏲⋆🌿. ⋆⸜ 🍵✮˚ Kang Dae Ho x Reader

requested 💌

wc: 709 (short n sweet!)

a/n thank you so much for all the love and all the requests!! I'm getting my nails done soon LOL they're so grown out its hard to write so after that ill be more active!!! ily all<3 -matcha

comfort was hard to come by in this place of death, desperation, and shock, let alone the safety and security you craved. you felt much safer than you did the first game, compared to being alone and confused you now were part of a team, another member claiming to have gone through the games and offering help.

all of the members of your group had such unique personalities, gi hun being the one that originally caught your attention with his assistance in the first game; geum ja and her son's loving arguments providing a sense of sweetness and even occasional entertainment; jung bae's jokes providing humanity in the dark place you've all found yourselves trying to survive in. but no one caught your attention nearly as much as the man closest to your age, dae ho.

dae ho's respectful admiration of gi hun and then jung bae made you smile to yourself. "how could someone be so bubbly after what just happened here?" you wondered to yourself, the situation in front of you becoming more contrasting to the place it was happening in. you giggled to yourself as he shouted "SIR!" at jung bae for the fourth time in a row.

you didnt notice how it made him smile.

your focus shifted as gi hun began explaining the next game. the reality of going through the childhood game-themed blood bath sinking in. you listened intently as he explained what shape to pick. you began to feel less anxious, you knew what to expect and how to survive in the next game; and you weren't doing it alone, you had your team this time.

the thought of that made your demeanor soften. shifting from the feared facial expression to one of relief and appreciation. jung bae notices, asking you kindly "how are you holding up with all of this?" you respond with a smile, appreciating his care "better. I'm glad i found people and even more glad i have an idea of what I'm going into this time."

dae ho smiles again. this time you notice.

"are you feeling better as well? you should be, i mean you're the one who asked him." you said genuinely. he stutters; not expecting you to strike up a conversation with him and a bit embarrassed you noticed him smiling to himself. "i am!" he beams, "I'm also glad to have found a group, thank you for asking." your smile deepens, more than you had wanted it to. "thank you! what did you say your name was again?" you ask; knowing he had told jung bae his name earlier. "dae ho!" he exclaims adorably. "what is yours if you're comfortable sharing?" he asks respectful of the fact you may not want to share personal information at a death game. "y/n!" you say to him with a smile.

this time everyone notices how it makes you smile. jung bae chuckles as he gives gi hun a suggestive look.

"lights out is in 30 minutes." the recorded voice echos throughout the room. your fear returns as gi hun warns that things might get violent as the night progresses. your worry begins to show on your face as you look around, trying to remember where your bed was. the group, especially dae ho notices, and they all agree to let you stay near them for the night.

a silence falls on the group as the players all begin to settle in for the night. you turn around, noticing that dae ho moved from his bunk behind you to a new bed in front of you. you pretend not to notice, afraid you might smile or blush in an obvious way. you deeply appreciated the secure feeling being around this tall, handsome, almost stranger gave you.

he didnt feel like a stranger, you reminded yourself you just knew his name and that he was in the marines. you wanted to learn more; as you went to bed with the comforting stranger in front of you, protecting you from whatever lurked in the darkness, you hoped not just for your survival in the next game, but for your whole group to make it out.

you knew he would protect you against whatever was to come the next day.

✩°𓏲⋆🌿. ⋆⸜ 🍵✮˚

[mooncleaver]

Tender Mornings

you know it's a good day when the first sight you're greeted with is azriel sprawled out so beautifully on your bed.

ღ pairing: azriel x fem!reader 

ღ warnings: very loosely cannonical pls don't ask i live in my dreams, fluff after fluff in your face, they’re MATED AND MARRIED!! 🥰 touchy azriel

"Good morning, handsome."

Your voice murmurs into Azriel's ears early in the morning, waking him out of his peaceful slumber. It's a quiet day, and definitely not the kind of quiet you'd be alerted by, hackles raised and ears perked for signs of danger. No, this was peace. The birds are chirping and the distant sounds of city bustle has just begun its routine, and you can't help but stare at your mate, the absence of fine lines on his forehead creating one of the most endearing pictures in your mind.

Honestly, you don't know how you've managed to slip out of his iron grip a few hours ago. Even his shadows had been relatively calm. But you pieced it to him finally getting his well-deserved sleep after a grueling week of running around as spymaster for Night Court. He'd almost collapsed right on top of you on the couch the moment he got home at the dead of night, practically purring under you into a dreamless sleep while you ran your hands through his hair. You love it when he's just Azriel with you. Not the deadly shadowsinger with eyes that could kill, but the one snoring himself away in your shared bed, wings splayed out without a care in this world.

As he opens his eyes blearily, he can make out your soft fingers on his face, warm and comforting as your thumb strokes his cheek, squatting down on the floor beside his edge of the bed. It's an awfully good morning whenever you're there to wake him up, which isn't often considering how light of a sleeper Azriel is. It's one of the rare times that he had a fully undisturbed 8 hours of sleep, with no nightmares plaguing his visions. 

He smiles, seeing your face first thing. Gods, he would die over and over again if this was the sight he woke up to each time.

Noticing his expression, your grin widens as you lift your other hand from laying on the sheets, cradling his face and brushing your nose against his, closing your eyes as you breathe in your mate, all the while feeling the bond pulsate like a well-known bliss inside your chest. The golden band on your left ring finger glints wonderfully in the morning sun, the rays illuminating it as if it were a halo wrapped around your skin. The ring is a dainty but simple thing, its surface raised with signature Night Court swirls and stars, the pattern a twin to the bargain marks painting your sternum—the one that you made with Azriel the day of your ceremony with promises to love and protect, even beyond death.

It was an unusual thing to have around in Pythian, considering it was a human tradition. 

You and Azriel picked up the custom after learning it from a mission the two of you went to a long time ago in the human lands. Of course, it wasn't like either of you needed conventional items to show your relationship, knowing the Mother had already blessed you with one of magic, something so deeply sacred that transcended both words and worlds. Still, you thought that the piece of gold represented a beautiful message. It told the story of your battles and triumphs, the countless suffering and victories that got you to where you were, being able to hold the hand of your fated mate, rings clinking and echoing the bells that rung in your mating ceremony. No distance could ever separate you. And most of all, it reminded you every waking day of the way Azriel accepted you as his, as someone who loved him through thick and thin, someone who he would kill and die for.

You were always a victim of sentiment, and neither you nor Azriel could deny the pride the two of you felt seeing each other's rings—the way it felt like a claim over each other, physical proof of your love beyond words.

When Feyre met the Inner Circle for the first time, she became an addition to the people who appreciated the symbol. You were confused at first, wondering why the Cursebreaker was staring at you so deeply. Then you saw the way her eyes never wavered from your hand, the one that was brushing against Azriel's scarred ones as he softly reciprocated up and down against your fingers. It had honestly been centuries since the two of you mated that you sometimes forget you were wearing a ring, the weight of it so familiar that it became a part of your body. 

She'd told you one day how in awe and warm she felt seeing the two of you wearing your rings. It indeed was a rare sight, and in her heart she understood what it meant. Even if she hadn't been familiar with mating bonds, Feyre knew what wedding yourself to someone entailed, and for the one of the first times in a while she had smiled so brightly, sharing a nod that only the three of you seemed to understand.

Funnily enough, Rhys told you that even before she noticed the rings and the affection, Feyre had read Azriel up and down as being utterly in love with you. The Azriel whisperer. Guess it wasn't hard to notice the pure adoration pouring out of his eyes at the mere thought of you.

"I thought I'd let you sleep in for a bit before I go, I know it's been a rough week for you baby."

"I love you." That was the first thing he uttered, overwhelmed with the feeling. He could hear, feel and see your thoughts—ones of your ceremony. You never did block him off from your side of the bond, and it had really only been silent if he was out on a critical mission. Azriel loved it. Every side of you. Whenever you got frustrated, sad or jumping with joy, he celebrated in the knowledge that you were his and his only. That you were healthy and alive through all your emotions. 

Now he basked into the memory of your mating ceremony centuries ago, his own heart following yours as it took him through every single thought and emotion that was felt proudly through your perspective. Cauldron, he felt so loved. Awakened and reborn every time he remembered that day.

I love you too, you uttered through the bond, giggling as he brought you up off the floor, setting you on top of him like you were a piece of paper. His hand on your waist comforted you like no other, the warmth so familiar. The shadows slithered all around you in an almost child-like nature, prodding at your cheeks and shoulders. They were always so delightful around you, pretty much accepting you as their own mistress ever since you and Az mated. You stayed there for a while, laying one side of your head on his chest while you closed your eyes and followed his heartbeat, enjoying the melody it followed. 

The burst of shared happiness in you grew until a smile lit up on your face and you looked up from your position to him, climbing up his body and cradling his head in your arms, squeezing gently as you squealed when he began tickling the sides of your waist. You felt Azriel nosing the skin of your neck, breathing in your scent that had been so beautifully intertwined with his over the years. 

You loved moments like this, when the two of you didn't have to speak out loud, all the feelings simply existing.

After a calming while, you begrudgingly had to get up from your comfort, remembering why you were up early in the first place. Though, you had only made one inch of movement before you felt Az's arms locking themselves behind your back, face attaching back to his rightly earned place on the supple skin of your chest. And in times like these, you truly thanked the mother for blessing you with a mate who rivaled you in clinginess. It was dangerous when Azriel got like this. Difficult was an understatement to how it felt trying to get out of his arms, knowing his Illyrian training and position in Rhysand's court fully translated to his strength and state of his (godly) physique. Even your family had commented on how soft Azriel was when it came to you, now used to the image of the male having his arms and wings—or any part of his body really—against yours at all times.

You gently tapped the top of his ruffled hair, resting your right cheek on it as you urged him to let you go, kissing his head in between. Azriel only mumbled in response—the sound too unintelligible for it to be distinct—and closed his eyes again, ready to enter the realm of dreams.

You laughed breathily, craning your neck up and softly pulling his head back while you dragged your hand down the back of his head, holding a loose grip on his hair. "If you let me go right now I'll be back in your arms sooner than you can blink, Az." He smiled, blinking slowly in thought.

"How ‘bout that, huh? You, me, and fresh bed sheets tonight?" You mumbled, bringing your face close to his until your lips just barely brushed each other.

Now that got him up and alert.

Not even a second later you had taken the chance to jump out of the bed, letting your fingers drag onto the skin of his arms and turning around to get dressed. Azriel shook his head, his breathy chuckle being the only indication of his acceptance of defeat. And acceptance of your offer, of course. 

Leisurely, (as if you didn't have a certain purple-eyed highlord waiting for your arrival) you shrugged your night slip off, leaving you bare all the way except for your sapphire colored lacy underwear, the one your mate loved so much. "Rhys asked me to help him sort out his fucking mounds of paperwork again."

"—honestly Az, he's been dragging me into his office ever since I did it that one time he kept dropping down cold out of exhaustion." You sighed out exasperatedly, crossing your arms as you dug through your giant closet to find an appropriate outfit.

"You know he's just trying to find a way to spend time with you right?" Azriel answered, clearly distracted by your undressing. So easy. It was so easy to hook this man right around your fingers. You could clearly feel his piercing gaze travel up and down your body, tracing all your curves, not leaving a single inch yearning for his attention. You loved it, relished it. It made you feel so beautiful and desired, and your prideful Illyrian never failed to mention it out loud.

"Yeah yeah..." You shook your head affectionately. You weren't actually annoyed at Rhysand and honestly thought this was really sweet. With his mind running around the whole bargain with the Cursebreaker and the dizzying problem of recovering Prythian after what happened for the last 50 years, you knew your long-time friend needed a break, and you'd help him in whatever form, even if it meant going through all of his tedious High Lord work. Plus, you wouldn't miss a single chance to goad him on about the shoe-throwing incident.

You most probably would get wine-tipsy by the end of it. He did have one hell of a drink collection.

Once you found the pieces you were looking for, you grabbed each one in a hanger, walking back over to face Azriel as you held both of them up, asking his opinion for which one to wear. 

He had his arms crossed in front of him and scrunched his eyebrows for one second, raising his eyebrows as he silently nodded his head towards the one on your right. Hm. This was his favorite because it displayed your... assets very well. Typical mate. Winking as a thanks, you put the unused set back, putting on your outfit for the day, all the while he watched with twinkling eyes.

"I mean, couldn't he ask me to go training or something?" Still, you continued your tangent, feeling playful in this happy morning.

"Rhys knows not to train with you because you're lazy." His words hadn't registered in your mind yet because Gods did you love this version of your mate so much. The crumpled bed sheets did absolutely no help covering him up, falling right below his hip while his muscles flexed. His chestnut hair spiked in all kinds of directions, remnants of your own hands playing with the soft strands. The constant darkness that surrounded him only drew your attention to his half-lidded eyes, so sultry without a try. The smug bastard was leaning his head back, both his hands behind them and he knew how much you loved it when he did that—bulging biceps and all. You could just claw at him right now. You were so thankful for his Illyrian DNA.. it was like they were born with divine statures.  

"What. Did you just say to me, Azriel?" You gasped in mock offense, a hand on your chest and all.

He had the audacity to show you his sorry smile, as if it would get him out of every sticky situation (It did. Every time. You were just too prideful to say it) "No, no, don't you smile at me like that."

You held your finger up, trying your best to ignore him. You scoffed. Lazy. Okay well in your defense, Rhysand just fucking loved to rile you up whenever the two of you were in the ring. It almost always made you annoyed to the point that you couldn't look at his face without feeling the urge to punch it. It wasn't like you couldn't take a friendly banter, but he did it for way too long and way too often. That's why you preferred to fight with Azriel or Cassian for that matter.

Seeing you hold your stance, he got up in all his glory, boxers being the only unfortunate thing covering him up. It was purely instinct to look him up and down, savoring the image while you bit your lip. Pride. That’s all he felt whenever you did that.

Azriel walked towards you with open arms, enveloping you in his large frame when he got close enough, one hand going right down its snug place on your ass while the other went behind your head.

He whispered in your ear lovingly, satiating your unserious upset. "I'm very sorry, my beautiful, intelligent, kind and sexy mate."

You could only melt right into his embrace, bringing your arms to coil around his neck as you smiled against it, pressing your lips onto his skin a couple times. His throaty voice right to your ears made you shiver in delight, goosebumps rising in its wake. You really couldn't get enough of this man, his voice, his smile, his scent and his everything. Feeling your love, Azriel responded by holding you tighter against his body, feeling every inch pressing against him.

"So sexy." He murmured, squeezing your ass.

A laugh bubbled deep from your chest and you leant back from your cozy spot, resting your palm against his chest as you smiled up at him, sighing and nodding in delight. "Knew we were mates for a reason."

He joined you a moment later, his laugh vibrating deep within his chest. This on its own could make any fae in Prythian drop down to their knees. Azriel didn't hesitate to kiss you, feeling a type of content that could only be fulfilled by your lips. 

You giggled as you felt his lips trek your jaw, down to your collarbone and trailing your shoulders, all the while letting his enormous wings cocoon the two of you. You were pleased to stay inside the little world you two built, letting the joy simmer between you and your mate until he released the hold he had on you with his wings. Without a single word being spoken, you let him trail you as you made your way towards the generous vanity on the corner of the bedroom, picking out the everyday items that were displayed. And of course, you had to use the perfume that Az got for your 100th anniversary, the bottle no longer the original as you had gone through so much with constant use. 

The male loved whenever you’d wear it,—which was almost everyday—the smell mixed with your own natural one driving him mad, further and further falling for you. And that was exactly his reaction after you gave your wrist a small spritz. Azriel melted deeper into you, if that was even possible with the lack of space between your bodies. 

“Think I’m gonna fly out to the city later. Cass is back from Windhaven.” He murmured into the nape of your neck once you were done, fully wrapping his arms around you and not missing the chance to slip them under your top to cup your breasts at it. You hummed in response, laying your head back and tilting to the side to look at your mate and giving him sweet kisses. 

“Mm, sounds fun. Tell him I said hi—Ooh, can you please bring back those chocolate chip cookies we had last week? They were soo good.” You closed your eyes in the memory, proceeding to pout at the Illyrian while reaching behind to lay one of your hands on the back of his neck.

Azriel hummed knowingly in response. Obviously he’d get them for you. You didn't even have to ask and he would’ve brought them back anyway. “Okay baby, anything you want.”

This man. Everything out of his mouth made you feel so madly in love.

While he swayed your bodies leisurely, you couldn’t help but grin up at him, teasing his behavior as you scratched his scalp to emphasize. “You’re so in love with me, Az.”

“‘Course I am, look at you. Beautiful. So beautiful.” He raised your left hand towards his face, emphasizing the word with a delicate kiss on your knuckles, lips lingering on the finger that adorned your ring. 

He’d do anything and everything for you. Fly to the edge of Prythian and back, steal the moon, burn the world, collect the stars and hang them up again to paint the sky. If you asked he would do it.

What else could you do in response than to lean up and kiss him in return, letting him twist your body to face him while his hands pull at your waistband, caressing in calming motions. “My mate is so sweet.”

“I love you too.”

“Okay okay, I should go now. Rhys will start nagging me about being glued to you and our bed as he always does.” You reluctantly separated yourself from his embrace, rubbing your hands down his arms in consolation for the loss of warmth.

“Been over 400 years now, sweetheart. I don’t think he’s going to stop anytime soon.” And Azriel meant this in an entirely endearing way. What happened under the mountain with that insane bitch Amarantha had truly changed Rhysand. He returned home different, haunted. The first time you heard him playfully tease yours and Azriel’s inseparable nature you had both been stunned, finally seeing the old friend—no, brother—that you knew so well show through the cracks. 

You shook your head in agreement, grinning as you took the chance to bump your noses together. “I’ll see you when I see you, hot stuff. Tell me everything tonight.”

“On our fresh bed sheets?” He smirked playfully, echoing your previous promise as a way to remind you.

“Mhm, exactly on our fresh bed sheets.” You laughed and winked at him, finally turning around and grabbing your trusty dagger by the drawer and sheathing it on your thigh. The weapon never went anywhere without you, even if you were only venturing to the Town House. It was something small to reign Azriel’s constant need of making sure you were safe and armed at all times. 

Your mate followed you out the door of your room, beelining towards the kitchen, no doubt to make himself a nice cup of coffee. 

As your passed him by the isle, you gave him one last goodbye kiss, throwing your head back in laughter at the (soft) slap on your ass on your way.

The minute you opened the door to his large office, Rhysand had paused, nose up and muttered with a teasing smile, “Gods, you reek of Illyrian.”

“Shut the fuck up, Rhys.”

AAAH! guys im insanely back from writing hiatus after like a year. This is fucking surreal and also im so sorry to my friends that i abandoned.. yall… ily and my messages are open 

On another note, i am glad to start it all up again with an azriel piece. Despite loving his character since 2021, ive never written for him but i got inspired after reading a terribly sweet soldier boy fic lol.

I really hope that this story, in all aspects, is okay! I feel very rusty

masterlist

dividers credit @rookthornesartistry @chachachannah @dollywons

(also if you see this thank you GWEN for convincing me to post again)

[bunny-jpeg]

kink-o-ween - day fourteen

lando norris - collars/leashes

cw: smut/pwp, collars & leashes, dom/sub, dirty talk/degrading language, rough sex, possessive behavior, missionary sex, protected sex

kink-o-ween: formula one edition - call of duty edition

it was a choker. not a collar.

it was gold in colour and it was supposed to math your outfit for the dinner you and lando were attending. but anytime you caught sight of your boyfriend, you noticed his eyes on your neck.

and when he caught sight of you staring at him, he just smiled at you. he wished he could take a photo of you in the collar (choker). but about halfway through the dinner he decided that he could buy you something better.

something with his name on it.

it was a gift weeks later. you often got gifts from lando, he was that kind of partner. where he handed wrapped presents over to you casually with a smile that could melt glaciers.

but your surprise came when you unwrapped the box delicately and revealed the collar inside. it was black leather with padding on the inside and the charm in the front was his logo.

he turned your face to look at him and smiled, "how does it look?"

you jokingly asked, "are we getting a dog?" and soon lando's hand was on your thigh, pushing up the skirt you were wearing. he beamed at you, the boyish smile with something evil underneath.

"no, sweetheart. it's for you." his tone was sweet as he got closer to you. he saw how you held the collar, like it was the crown jewels. you'd look better with it around your throat.

"why the collar?" you asked as you felt a sexual shudder through your body. your pulse leapt at what was brewing inside of your lover.

his gaze met yours, "oh, for you wear to wear! after all, you're mine, right?" you swallowed and it only excited him more.

his hands hit your panties and pulled at the waistband to make it snap against your hip. there was something about lando norris that pulled you in. even when he bought you a collar.

it wouldn't go on you until you were naked and kneeling on his bed. the padded parts around your throat felt very comfortable, it wasn't tight enough to choke you. but, tight enough to make its presence known for you. you were wearing a symbol of him. the 'l' and the 'n' of his logo gleamed in the bedroom light.

he leaned in to kiss and you said, "you look amazing." before he pulled you into bed with you, "next time i'll get you a leash. so you don't wander too far." his joke only excited him more and you moaned against his jaw.

he got you onto your back and licked his lips. you looked up at him, you looked almost like a puppy. but, that was something for another day. while the sun shined through the trees outside, it was the two of you in his place.

"lando."

"i know. fuck, you look beautiful." he laughed a little as he rubbed his hard cock up against you. you saw that the head was dribbling a bit of precum. he tilted your chin to look up at him, "who's my good girl?"

you nodded and replied, "i am."

he leaned in to kiss you on the apple of your cheek before he let go of your chin to grab a condom from the nightstand. you were both careful that way. he laid up against you with his knees a little bent. he was chest to chest with you.

he admired your beauty below him as he got your legs around his waist. he exhaled deeply before he said, "you are beautiful. so beautiful. look pretty with my claim around your throat." he rubbed himself up against you and you moaned a little louder.

"please, lando."

"you can't stop me. i'm only saying what i'm seeing." his cock was painfully hard and it made you excited all over. his got his cock into you and you tense up for a moment.

then you relaxed and held onto his shoulders. he planted hands on either side of your waist and moved against you. your hips angled at a way to hit the perfect spot. you whined a little bit and held onto his shoulders as he bullied his cock against you.

lando wanted your collared, leashed, gagged, bound, anything he could get you in. he loved being the man on top, the one who pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you. that made you see stars with the intensity of his movements.

you deserved only the best and that was what lando was. the best of the best.

he kissed at your jaw and raised a hand to your neck, where he placed his large palm over your throat. he groaned a little bit at the feeling of you. he couldn't feel your pulse through the padding, but he knew that your heart was racing at that moment.

"next time i just might use my hand as a collar. you look really pretty like this." he applied a little pressure, not enough to choke you. but enough that it made your cunt clench around him.

he licked his lips at the sight of you as he thrusted harder into you. he could feel the sweetest parts of you. how amazing you felt under his grasp. he was a greedy lover. possessive in certain ways. he always wanted to find ways to stake his claim on you. to make sure that you'd only want him.

the idea of him using his hand like a collar made your stomach flip, especially when you felt your brain get swarmed with the heat of lust. you could feel your heartbeat in your stomach as he continued to thrust against you. his pace was brutal and felt like he was pushing all your organs up.

you held onto him tightly, you even went as far as to leave a nice purple hickey on his neck. which only enticed him more, if he was going to mark you with a pretty collar. then you were going to mark him with a pretty hickey.

not that lando cared too much about the press' view of it come the next race. he'd wear it with pride, the knowledge that he was getting what those reporters were lacking. good pussy.

his thrusts were brutal and you held on for dear life. you moaned a little louder as the heat trailed through your body. you felt electric, you felt alive. you core throbbed with need for your handsome boyfriend. only lando could convince you to wear a collar like a dog.

maybe he could even convince you to bark if he really tried.

"you feel real good, sweetheart." he purred as he admired you with every hard thrust. he could see the shift in your breasts with every hard thrust of his hips.

"mmm, lando." you tilted your head a little farther back and he eyed the gleam of the charm. you were properly owned by him and that made his heart race.

he held onto the bed under as he really worked himself against you. you were painfully pretty with a collar on. he wanted you to wear his logo at all times. and if that didn't work then maybe some hickies on your skin.

his pace began to become less steady as he worked your cunt. feeling it grip around his cock and make him see stars. you felt like a dream against him as he moved. your arms were soon wrapped around his neck and the two of you were deeply kissing.

"so beautiful and all mine." he praised. it made something curl in his gut as he held onto the covers tightly. you two were chest to chest and your kisses lingers across his cheeks.

your back arched a little bit as you felt the thrill of pleasure through you. your toes curled a little as you tensed up and eventually climaxed around his cock. you held him close and added another bite to his neck. it made him groan, he liked that.

"you are an angel." he groaned, his pace only quickened and fucked you with such force that it made your body feel overstimulated. you gasped loudly as he bullied his cock up against you.

"please, lando." you whined as you arched your back a little more. but you were trapped under him as he fucked you with a high intensity. with a few more heavy thrusts of his hips, he finished in the condom.

he tensed up then relaxed as he felt the flood of emotions in his brain. he panted heavily as he clutched onto the bed tightly. he kissed you on the lips as he slowed his pace down to a stop.

"fuck." you exhaled when he broke the kiss.

lando stopped and then dropped on the bed beside you. he looked at you as you turned to face him. his fingers trailed across the collar and he licked his lips. you looked divined, sexually blissed out and collared.

"how does another round sound?" he asked with a hint of a smile.

you held his face, "you're insatiable, lando."

"of course, sweetheart. only for you." he said as his hands dragged across your heated skin. he needed you in every way he could have you. and with the sun still in the sky, there was more than enough time to enjoy his girlfriend.

-

while the collar couldn't have been worn while you were out and about. but lando thought of that when he bought the collar. so while you were out of your shared home, you had a choker (not collar) with a little charm of his logo on it.

a reminder always, that you were his. and his only. <3

[azen13]

CW: Yandere Themes, Stalking, Bathing Together, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Spoilers for HSR 3.0 Main Story

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

I've had some time to sit with 3.0, and so I wanted to just ramble a little bit about Yandere!Phainon! I loved him in-game and definitely hope to write about him as I get to know his character more.

He's not cruel. Far from it, his presence is like the kiss of sunlight on morning dew. Instead, he's protective to the point where he seems to bear down on you at every waking moment. You might simply be going for a walk in Marmoreal Market trying to buy some goods for dinner and you'll find yourself bumping into Phainon, his voice effulgent. But with light comes shadows, and you can feel his more possessive intentions lurking between the letters of his words. He exclaims what a wonderful coincidence this is, but you know better. A coincidence can only live for so long before it sheds its skin and reveals an artificial nature, and you can see right through every single one of Phainon's translucent excuses.

Even though he longs to wake up and fall asleep with you by his side, he does a good job of keeping the compulsion to take you home at bay for some time. His conveniently-timed coincidences allow him the opportunity to escort you from place-to-place and bask in your radiance. If he gets lucky, he can persuade you to let him accompany you to the baths. Even though it's against the rules, he enjoys bringing you to the Hero's Bath and taking his time washing your hair. His hands weave through your hair masterfully, his fingertips occasionally ghosting the skin of your shoulders. You may not let him be close to you, but he always finds a way to claim you as his own in public: a hand wrapped around your shoulders, or tousling your hair, or even reaching for your own hand. In his mind, you are a hero, the savior of a heart shattered beyond repair by countless losses. For that reason, he cannot let you go; no matter how wrong it may be in your eyes, perceptions can be easily changed, and he will do whatever it takes to show you that your life will be perfect with him. Spur, strike, scorn him as you'd like, you cannot escape his presence and power. It'd be a fool's errand to leave Okhema with the state Amphoreus is in, and Phainon isn't just some commoner with no public status who you can simply avoid. On the contrary, he has a multitude of tools at his disposal to help ensnare you in his control. And, if you still somehow fight against him, he can always plead with Aglaea for her to intertwine your fate with his.

No matter what you do, where you go, or how you fight him, Phainon will make himself the sun of your heart, pulling you into his orbit and never letting you go. Ever.

[povcastiel]

˖ . ݁𝜗☠︎︎𝜚. ݁₊

The King of the Pirates and… His Queen

Tags | Monkey D. Luffy x Siren Reader

Warnings | Sexual content, fluuuuuuufffff

MDNI

[ Soooooooo, I really had to get this out. ILY <3]

Realization…

Monkey D. Luffy is oblivious.

Between his constant thought of a tasty meal, finding the One Piece, and claiming his rightful title—he can’t be bothered to notice subtle signs of love… of lust.

He adores you, that much is true, (in his own unhinged way) but even Sanji couldn’t be successful in dropping the Captain hints.

That’s all until the world tilted on its axis and you saved his life. Lucky fins and all, Luffy doomed by the Devil Fruit in his veins. Cursed by the sea, his only refuge had been in your arms. Not daring to abandon his precious straw hat, as you reached the wet sand of the beach. You’d forgotten all about the chaos that landed you here when you looked over his peaceful face. The scar beneath his eye so prominent, and his raven hair clinging against his forehead. Red shirt undone, abdomen muscles shinning in the sun. He looked like a man from one of those romance novels Robin let you borrow from time to time.

Luffy eventually came to, opening his eyes to the beauty that was you and the rest was written. From that moment on, Luffy owed you everything and in return, he silently made his own claim over you.

No turning back…

Luffy seized his opportunity, sooner rather than later. All it took was another flirty look from his cook and every ounce of jealousy within him came to a head.

And you’ve never seen him so possessive. Especially after he dragged you off to the men’s quarters. You’d only witnessed this kind of determination during the many impulsive fights he threw himself into.

It was all teeth and desperation. Nips and rough bites against your skin, blooming bruises that left you scolding him. Luffy would offer his signature “sorry…” and repeat the motions until you gave up altogether. Which was all he needed to completely devour you, to ruin you.

Really... you regretted letting him get a taste so soon. You’re familiar to tear stained cheeks, because Luffy promises after ever high that it’s last time. Muffled words against your sweet sex. "One more f'me sweetness..." He lied… He’s starving and you’re enduring it all until your fingers are tangled in his hair, tugging him away. (Not without a fight from your whining Captain.)

"Please baby, you can take it..."

Your his, he’s yours…

Aside from Zoro, your loyalty is everything to him. He’s carved out a spot just for you, within his heart. After everything, you couldn’t dare turn your back on him.

He hasn’t misplaced the memory of your first encounter. Stranded on an island, damaged fins from ruthless pirates. He wasn’t like them… his bouncing enthusiasm was infectious. Chopper was a life saver — the cutest reindeer you’d ever seen. You weren’t sure how to repay him, but many cotton candy clouds later… you think you’re even.

Who knew Monkey D. Luffy was such a simp? He wants you close every chance he gets. He’s possessive, over protective, and in times of trouble… he doesn’t even think of leaving you.

You’ve earned the golden status. Shown off to everyone. A chance encounter with big brother Ace? You’re the first one he’s introducing. You’ve even got Shanks’ stamp of approval.

Luffy’s dreams have broadened. The throne he desires is now yours, but don’t expect a second chair.

Monkey D. Luffy’s got it pictured in his mind. Crowns to adorn your heads and his most prized treasure of all is you… right on his lap.

Oh- Sanji thinks you're out of Luffy's league... ;)

[leirastar]

new world | chapter 1

Pairing: Ot8 Ateez x reader AU: fantasy AU | stranger -> mates Summary: A tragic accident left you unable to use your wings and, with that, claimed your father's life, leaving you in the care of your noble uncle. In Hala, a house of eight kingdoms, each boasting its own wonders, you never imagined that amidst the pain, you would also fall—this time, in love. Word Count: 4.2k | 18 minutes A/n: I wrote 2 draft for this and after a lot of contemplating i've decided on this one. i hope you enjoy it! Warning: blood/injury, violence (mentions of fighting), medical procedures. poisons, storm

The sun hung low in the sky, painting the field in muted hues of gold and green as a chill crept through the air. You knelt amidst the tall grass, your nimble fingers carefully plucking fragrant herbs from the earth.

The air, sharp and brisk, carried a chill that hinted at an approaching storm.

Humming softly to yourself, you tightened your coat around your shoulders and pulled your cape closer, shielding yourself from the biting wind. Your basket was half-filled with herbs you had carefully selected—lavender for calming teas, chamomile for soothing salves, and a few sprigs of arnica for your uncle’s pain medicine. The breeze carried the sweet scent of the harvest as it rustled the wildflowers around you, though now the wind's sharper edge made your hands move faster.

The day, though peaceful, had taken on a sense of urgency. You couldn’t help but notice the gentle rustling of the wind seemed louder now, almost ominous as the skies darkened in the distance.

Satisfied with your haul, you stood, brushing dirt from your hands and skirt. Hefting your now-overfilled basket, you began the familiar walk home. The chill made your steps quicken as you hummed a soft tune as the village rooftops coming into view through the gathering gloom.

You resided on the town's far outskirts, away from the bustling markets and vibrant city lights, and close to the east border of Caius. It was a short walk, no more than ten minutes, but the icy gusts and the scent of rain in the air made it feel longer. As the smell of distant cooking fires greeted you, a comforting reminder of the simple life you cherished, you cast a wary glance at the clouds above, quickening your pace to reach the safety of home before the storm arrived.

But as you neared your small cottage, something felt...off.

The front door was ajar, its hinges creaking slightly in the breeze.

You paused.

You knew you had closed it.

Heart pounding, you set your basket on the steps. Your finger closed around your herb knife to calm your anxiety as a mean of protection. From inside came the sound of something crashing to the floor, followed by a muffled grunt. Your heart raced as you pressed your hand against the doorframe, leaning just enough to peek inside.

The sight made you gasp.

A man was slumped against your kitchen table, his dark clothing torn and stained crimson with blood. His breathing was ragged, his face pale and slick with sweat. Broken pottery lay scattered on the floor near his feet, evidence of his struggle to stay upright.

Albeit the pain that contorted his face, he was undeniably beautiful, as though the gods themselves had sculpted him. Shaking off the fleeting daydream, you steadied yourself and pointed your knife toward the stranger, your grip firm despite the rapid beat of your heart.

“Who—who are you?” you demanded, stepping fully into the room.

The man's head snapped up at your voice, his sharp eyes narrowing despite the pale exhaustion pulling at his features. Pain was etched into every line of his face, but it did nothing to dull the rigid posture he held, a silent, almost haughty declaration that he refused to surrender to his circumstances.

“I—” He winced, his hand pressing firmly against the gash at his side, blood seeping between his fingers. “I didn’t mean to intrude.” His voice was low, steady despite the strain, with an edge of reluctant apology—one that came as though it pained him to admit he might need help.

“I’ll be gone as soon as I… catch my breath.”

Even now, weakened and injured, he carried himself with a quiet dignity, as though he were more offended by his situation than the injury itself. There was no demand for pity, no pleading in his tone—only the undeniable weight of a man who was unused to seeking aid and found the very act distasteful.

You hesitated, your grip on the knife tightening. There was something about him that felt dangerous—his strong, lean frame and the way he held himself, even in pain, spoke of someone used to commanding attention. But there was also vulnerability in his gaze, a desperation that softened your wariness.

“You’re hurt,” your voice firm but calm, setting the knife on the counter but keeping it within reach.

His jaw tightened, as though bracing himself against the sting of his pride. “I’ll manage,” he muttered, but the slight tremor in his stance betrayed him. The stubbornness in his tone didn’t match the pallor of his face or the faint, uneven breaths he tried to suppress.

You sighed, exasperated but unmoved. His stubbornness didn’t surprise you. It was written in his posture, in the hard line of his mouth, in the way he refused to meet your gaze.

“Well, you’re doing a poor job of it,” you shot back, sharper this time.

That caught his attention. His gaze snapped to you, dark and piercing, as though offended by your audacity. For a moment, silence stretched between you, but gaze flickered there, almost reluctant amusement. His lips pressed into a thin line as though trying to decide whether to fight you on this or accept the inevitable.

“I don’t… need your help,” he said stiffly, though his voice wavered just slightly as his strength faltered.

“And yet you’re bleeding all over my table,” you countered, your tone calm but firm. “Please, sit down. You’re only making it worse.”

His eyes warred visibly against your words, his hand tightening into a fist where it gripped the edge of the table. Finally, with a reluctant sigh, he muttered, “This is… unnecessary.”

“It’s necessary if you want to survive,” you replied, already moving to his side.

When you slid an arm under his, he stiffened, his body going rigid as though the very act of being supported grated against him.

“I can walk,” he grumbled.

“You can barely stand,” you replied dryly, guiding him carefully toward your bedroom. His weight pressed against you for only a moment before he forced himself to stand taller, his stubborn pride refusing to let him lean on you more than absolutely necessary.

Easing him down onto the edge of the bed. His shoulders stiffened as if being placed there was yet another blow to his pride, but he didn’t protest.

“I’m… sorry for the intrusion,” he said again, his tone quieter this time, as though apologizing was both foreign and uncomfortable. “It wasn’t my intention.”

“Apology accepted. You’ll be better off lying down,” you said, your voice steady despite the flurry of nerves coursing through you.

He exhaled sharply, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the mattress. “I don’t need—”

“Stop talking,” you cut in firmly, kneeling beside him. “You do need help, whether you like it or not.”

He glared at you for a moment, though the fire in his gaze was dimmed by exhaustion. “Stubborn woman,” he muttered under his breath, though there was no real malice in his tone.

“And you’re not exactly a model of reason yourself,” you replied.

Stepping back briefly, you crossed the room to close the windows, the glass panes rattling faintly from the wind outside. The storm was growing, the wind howling as it clawed at the shutters, and you latched them firmly to keep the cold at bay. The room immediately felt quieter, warmer, though the tension lingering between you and the man remained palpable.

You quickly gathered supplies: clean linen strips for bandages, a basin of water, and a flask of pain medicine from the nearby cupboard, you turned to him, your eyes scanning his pale, sweat-drenched face.

"I need to see the wound," you instructed gently. He hesitated, then nodded, removing his hand to reveal a deep gash.

Your breath hitched.

The gash was deep, inflamed, and stained with a purple sheen. You sighed softly, this is not an ordinary wound.

“This will hurt,” you warned, dipping a clean cloth into a mixture of strong wine and vinegar, the sharp tang filling the air. Carefully, you began to cleanse the wound. He winced, a sharp breath hissing through his teeth, but his silence held.

Once satisfied, you reached for the flask of pain medicine. “Here,” you said firmly, holding it out to him. “Drink this. It’ll help.”

He eyed it with suspicion, his pride flaring visibly as though the very idea of accepting medicine offended him. “What is it?”

“Something to keep you alive,” you said flatly, pushing the flask closer. “Stop questioning everything and drink.”

Reluctantly, he took a small sip, grimacing slightly as the bitter taste settled on his tongue. After another swallow, his shoulders eased, the tension in his posture slowly melting as the medicine began to dull the sharp edge of his pain.

Placing the flask next to the bed, you reached out instinctively, placing a hand over his to offer quiet comfort. It was a small, unthinking gesture—one you often did for your uncle’s patients.

But the moment your hand touched his, his eyes snapped open, and for the briefest moment, they glowed vivid blue. A faint luminescence bloomed across his forehead, like the trace of some ancient mark, and you gasped softly, your heart stuttering.

Startled, you glanced toward the window just as a flash of lightning lit the room, the storm raging outside. You told yourself it was the storm’s light playing tricks on your eyes. It had to be.

But when you looked back, his eyes had returned to their original goldish-brown hue, the glow vanished as though it had never been. He was staring at you now—his expression unreadable, though softer, almost hesitant.

“What… was that?” you whispered, withdrawing your hand quickly.

He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. Whatever walls he had erected earlier now seemed to falter, as though something in that brief exchange had shifted. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter.

“You’re kind,” he murmured, surprising you. “Far kinder than I deserve.”

The vulnerability in his tone startled you almost as much as the glow had, but you masked it, straightening in your seat. “You’re still a terrible patient,” you replied lightly, though your voice was gentler this time.

After washing your hands, you cleansed the wound with water, then applied a thin layer of honey before covering it with the linen bandages. "This should help prevent infection," you explained.

As you worked, you noticed his features more clearly—sharp jawline, dark hair sticking to his sweat-dampened forehead, and piercing eyes that watched you with a mix of caution and gratitude. He wasn’t a common traveler; his clothes, though damaged, were of fine make, and the insignia on his belt hinted at nobility.

“What happened to you?”

As you peeled back more of his torn shirt, the full extent of his injuries came into view—dark bruises blooming across his ribs and smaller cuts scattered like a map of violence. You furrowed your brows in concern, but your hands remained steady.

“Bandits,” he muttered. “On the road. They... didn’t expect me to fight back.”

You studied him closely, the flicker of doubt plain on your face. You didn’t press him, not yet, but you weren’t a fool. This far from the city, you've never heard of such bandits. The wound, telltale sheen of poison—this wasn’t the work of ordinary bandits.

Still, you asked, “You fought them off?”

He gave a weak, humorless chuckle. “Not well enough, apparently.”

You shook your head, setting to work cleaning the wound. “You’re lucky you made it here. Another hour, and this might have turned fatal.”

“I suppose I am,” he muttered, his gaze fixed on you, though the defiance from earlier had softened to something quieter. Something thoughtful.

For the first time, he seemed to regard you not as an inconvenience or an intrusion but as someone who had saved his life. His expression was still guarded, but the edges of it had shifted—less sharp, more yielding.

“Why were you traveling alone?”

He hesitated, as if debating how much to reveal. Finally, he said, “I was trying to avoid... attention.”

You raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. “Well, you’ve certainly gotten mine.”

For the first time, a small, tired smile tugged at his lips. “Lucky me.”

You huffed, securing the bandage with perhaps more force than necessary. “You’re far too stubborn for your own good,” you added, brushing your hands off and rising to fetch a fresh cloth.

His tired smile lingered faintly. “Takes one to know one.”

You shot him a look over your shoulder. “I wouldn’t call saving your life stubborn. Sensible, maybe.”

He exhaled a soft huff, something between amusement and exhaustion. “Sensible,” he repeated quietly, as though testing the word on his tongue.

As you laid a damp cloth on his fevered forehead, his gaze tracked your movements—sharp but softened, no longer the cold and aloof glint from earlier. There was something new there now, as if he were seeing you through fresh eyes.

“You’re skilled,” he remarked, his voice quieter, more measured.

“I’ve had practice,” you replied simply, brushing the damp cloth lightly over his brow.

As you observed him resting on the bed, your attention shifted to his tattered, bloodstained coat draped loosely over his shoulders. The fine wool and intricate stitching caught your eye—unmistakable signs of noble craftsmanship, the kind of attire far beyond the means of a mortal Aetherions.

“Your clothes are dirty,” you remarked, crossing the room to fetch clean garments. You hesitated for only a moment before offering them. “I have, um, clothes you can use.”

His cold gaze glanced at the garments, then back at you, his expression clouded with an emotion you couldn't quite identify.

"Your lover's or something?" he asked, his voice laced with something unreadable—disapproval, maybe, or curiosity.

"Or something," you replied, maintaining composure.

"I'll help you."

“I can manage on my own,” he muttered instinctively, pride flaring again like a reflex.

“You’ll tear open the bandage if you try,” you replied firmly, setting the clothes on the cot beside him.

For a moment, it looked as though he’d refuse outright, his pride warring with the exhaustion tugging at him. But then, as though resigning to his limits, he gave you a slow, reluctant nod.

“Fine,” he muttered.

You approached carefully, your hands steady as you helped him remove the soiled coat. Beneath the dirt and blood, the fabric was rich, its quality unmistakable—a silent confirmation of his noble status. You discarded it into the enchanted basin at the corner of the room, where water rippled and swirled, magic working to cleanse the garment, a convenient aid in your otherwise rustic setting.

The act of dressing him felt oddly intimate. You tried to remain professional, your movements efficient and practiced, yet you couldn’t ignore the way his skin, warm and solid beneath your fingertips, sent faint sparks fluttering through you.

The tension in the room seemed to shift, subtle but undeniable. It seems that the spark however, not only resolve to you but to the man in front of you. His breathing slowed, a low, almost imperceptible sound escaping him—a contented hum.

You glanced up just in time to catch the faint dilation of his pupils, his golden-brown eyes softening as they met yours-you surmised he felt the same feather-light sensations that danced across your skin.

He nodded slightly, feeling content, His eyes, already heavy with exhaustion, drifted closed.

"You'd better get some sleep, my lord. You need the rest," you advised, pulling the blanket up over him.

As you turned away, his hand shot out at the last moment, catching yours in a gentle grasp. his voice barely above a whisper.

"Stay."

His voice barely above a whisper but enough to root you in place. A shiver traced your spine, feather-light but persistent.

What is this?

Your breath caught. He was already half-asleep, his hold loose but firm enough to keep you there. Slowly, you sank to the floor beside the cot, your hand still cradled in his as his breathing deepened.

As the storm continued to rage outside, you sat in silence, watching him drift into a fitful sleep,. The quiet hum of his breath filled the room, a stark contrast to the battle-worn pride and defiance you had seen earlier. Now, in sleep, he seemed almost fragile—something you doubted he’d allow anyone else to witness.

A peculiar sensation washed over you as you sat there—an electric and feather-light touches across your skin. You glanced around, startled, blaming the chill in the air or perhaps lingering adrenaline from the unexpected encounter.

As the storm continued its relentless howl outside, you remained by his side, his hand still loosely curled around yours. The room was quiet now, save for the soft rhythm of his breathing and the distant patter of rain against the window.

You rested your head against the edge of the bed, the tension of the day finally catching up to you. The warmth of the room and the steady rise and fall of his chest seemed to lull you, exhaustion washing over you like a heavy tide.

Before you knew it, your eyes fluttered closed, and sleep claimed you.

The first light of morning crept through the shutters, rousing you from an unexpectedly deep sleep. Blinking groggily, you took in your surroundings— the familiar wood-paneled walls of your room—and realized you were in your own bed.

A heavy quilt had been draped over your shoulders, and as you slowly sat up, the events of last night came rushing back.

The stranger. The injury. His touch.

Where was he?

Heart skipping a beat, throwing the quilt aside you rose quickly, disoriented. The sound of soft clinking and faint movement drew your attention to the kitchen. Padding toward the sound, you rounded the corner and froze.

There he was, standing by the counter, sleeves rolled up, his tall frame at ease despite the faint signs of exhaustion still etched across his face. He moved with surprising ease preparing something—bread, it seemed, with slices of dried fruit laid out neatly beside it.

“You’re supposed to be resting,” you said, your voice cutting through the quiet. He turned, his expression calm but faintly amused.

“I’ve rested enough,” he replied, his tone steady.

You crossed your arms, arching an eyebrow. “Resting in my bed apparently wasn’t enough. How did you even manage to get me there?”

He smirked faintly, gesturing to his side. “ You’re not as heavy as you think.”

Rolling your eyes, you moved to rekindle the fire, the faint flicker of flames crackling to life. “You should have stayed put. You’ll tear your wound open again.”

“And leave you sleeping on the floor?” he countered smoothly. “That wouldn’t be very polite, would it?”

The wit in his tone caught you off guard, and despite yourself, a quiet chuckle escaped. “Well, you didn’t give me much choice last night. You’d have bled out on my floor.”

“Fair,” he admitted with a faint smile, leaning against the counter.

As the tea brewed, the fragrant aroma filling the air, you placed two cups on the table and motioned for him to sit. He hesitated momentarily, then complied, easing into the chair with a grace that seemed almost practiced.

As you poured the steaming liquid into a mug, you stepped closer to hand it to him. The motion brought you near enough to catch his scent, and it stopped you in your tracks.

Crisp and refreshing, it carried the essence of ice and snow with a subtle hint of salt. It was a scent unlike any you’d known—both ethereal and grounding at once.

For a moment, the room felt smaller, the space between you almost suffocating. He took the mug from your outstretched hand, his fingers brushing against yours briefly-another fluttering feeling surfaced in the base of your heart. His gaze, steady and unreadable, held yours for a beat longer than necessary before he broke the silence.

“I must apologize for imposing upon you," he said after a while, his gaze meeting yours. "I had little choice but to seek refuge here."

You shook your head, offering a small smile. “There’s no need for apologies. I’m glad I could help.”

“I never caught your name,” you said as you poured the tea.

“Yunho,” he replied, his tone casual but his gaze studying you carefully.

You nodded, tucking the name away in your thoughts. “Yunho,” you repeated softly. For a brief moment, his golden-brown eyes shimmered faintly—an almost imperceptible flash of vivid blue that made your breath hitch. You blinked, dismissing it as a trick of the light.

“I’m—”

“Y/N.” he interrupted, his lips curling into the faintest smirk.

You tilted your head, surprised. “I don’t remember telling you that.”

He glanced down at his cup, “I… read your name,” he admitted, his tone casual, but something about the way he said it felt carefully chosen. “You left your herb journals open.”

You arched an eyebrow but chose not to press further. “All right, Yunho,” you said after a moment. The two of you settled into a quiet, tranquil morning together.

As the morning light spilled across the room, Yunho finished the last sip of his tea and set the cup down gently. Without a word, he rose and walked toward the door, his steps composed and deliberate. You watched him silently, curiosity swirling within you as he paused, his hand resting on the wooden frame.

“Where are you going?” you asked cautiously, stepping forward.

He stood there for a moment, his gaze distant as though he could see far beyond the village. The faint morning breeze swept through the slightly open door, tousling his dark hair, which fell forward to cover his forehead.

“My lord-”

Before you could finish, a sudden shift filled the air, he shifted his shoulders, and in one fluid motion, his wings unfurled. Rich, indigo feathers stretched wide, filling the space with a quiet, breathtaking power that left you frozen where you stood. Morning light poured through the door, catching the hues of his feathers, making them shimmer like liquid twilight.

Your breath hitched as you stepped forward instinctively. “You’re leaving,” you said, your voice ragged.

Yunho’s expression softened slightly, though his voice carried a firm edge. “It seems I’ve overstayed my welcome. ”

His expression unreadable, “I have matters to attend to.”

“But it’s only been a few hours, my lord,” you protested, your tone pleading. “You should rest.”

He turned slightly, allowing you to glimpse his side where the wound that should still be open was now completely healed. Your breath caught as you stepped closer.

“That’s… impossible,” you whispered, reaching out instinctively, your fingers hovering just above where the bandage had been. “It should still be open.”

“I heal quickly,” he replied, his tone casual, though his posture suggested he was ready to depart. “I really should be leaving.”

You swallowed, the inexplicable weight of his departure sitting heavily in your chest. Acting on impulse, you picked up his robe from the table nearby and stepped closer, gently draping it over his shoulders.

“Wait,” you murmured, your hands lingering for a moment as you adjusted the fabric, your gaze meeting his with unspoken intensity.

The movement brought you closer, your eyes locking with his. The tension between you felt almost tangible, as though the very air crackled with energy.

You couldn’t lie to yourself—it felt good having someone around. Someone who wasn’t family.

It had been so long since you’d shared your space with anyone else, and the quiet presence Yunho brought, despite the questions surrounding him, filled an emptiness you hadn’t known was there.

“You... you don’t have to go yet,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. You weren’t sure what had come over you—only that the thought of him leaving felt strangely unbearable.

His gaze softened, and for a moment, it seemed he might stay. He craned his neck down, his face close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. The soft rhythm of it sent a shiver down your spine, the quiet intimacy of the moment leaving you rooted in place, as though the air between you had become something tangible.

“May I come back, my lady?” he asked, his voice low, almost intimate.

The question sent a shiver through you, and for a heartbeat, you couldn’t find the words. Your grip on his robe tightened for a heartbeat before you let go. Without a word, you gave him a faint nod, a strange feeling settling over you.

His lips curved into the faintest smile as he stepped back, his wings spreading wide once more. The morning light caught the rich indigo of his feathers, casting a glow that made him seem otherworldly. The breeze stirred again, carrying with it the faint, crisp scent of snow and salt.

And then, with one last lingering glance, he was gone, leaving behind the faintest trace of snow in the air and a heart that raced long after he’d disappeared into the sky.

You stood there long after he was gone, the air still tingling with the remnants of his presence. A single indigo feather rested on the floor where he had stood, and as you picked it up, eyeing the indigo feather, you couldn’t help but smile, a quiet warmth settling in your chest.

and already, you found yourself counting the breaths until you would see him again.

Masterlist

Prologue | 2

Taglist (OPEN):

@pinkpearlstar @deltamoon666 @kyra1205 @hecateslittlewitchling @dumplingsyum @caratiny-latte @seongwars @halloweenbyphoebebridgers @angelqueendom @ffenjoyerdazme @lostxxgirl @xh01bri @neemaxx @furfoxsake22 @Thejentheredhead @soulphoenix1618

[pastryfication]

sleepy airports | loscar

pairing: oscar piastri x reader x logan sargeant

note: i’m trying to get better at poly fics, so please bear with me xx

in the airport, the bustling terminal is filled with the hum of travelers and the distant announcements of flight statuses. the excitement of your vacation is buzzing in the air, a bright spot in the midst of the usual airport chaos. it’s been a while since the three of you took a break together, just you, and the anticipation makes you giddy.

the three of you arrived early, giving yourselves plenty of time to navigate the security lines and grab a bite to eat. now, with hours to spare before your flight, you’ve settled into a quiet corner near your gate. oscar has claimed one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs and is lounging back with a book, while logan and you settle on either side of him.

you notice logan’s head nodding slightly as he tries to stay awake. he’s always been an early riser, and the wait is starting to take its toll. you feel the same way, your eyes growing heavy as you finally sit down in a quiet place. it doesn’t take long before you find yourself snuggling closer to your australian boyfriend, resting your head against his shoulder. his warmth and the steady rhythm of his breathing are comforting, and you feel yourself relaxing. as you close your eyes, you sense a gentle shift in the seating arrangement.

oscar glances up from his book and smiles. without saying a word, he moves to sit a bit more comfortably and gently wraps his arm around both you and logan. logan sighs contentedly and his head falls to rest on oscar’s shoulder as well. oscar’s eyes soften as he looks at the two of you, his free hand reaching up to lightly stroke your hair.

time seems to slow as you drift in and out of light sleep, lulled by the soft murmur of the airport and the comforting presence of your partners. it’s these small, quiet moments of togetherness that you cherish. the three of you are wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and love, a small, happy island in the middle of the bustling terminal.

when your flight is finally announced, oscar gently nudges you awake. you stretch and blink, feeling both refreshed and reluctant to leave the cozy nest you’ve created. logan stirs as well, his eyes slowly opening, and he smiles groggily at you. oscar gives a soft chuckle and stands up, offering you his hand.

“come on, sleepyheads,” he says. “time to board.”

as you all walk toward the gate, the excitement of the journey ahead replaces the initial grogginess. the flight is smooth, and the three of you settle into your seats. oscar sits by the window, giving you and logan the middle and aisle seats. you end up leaning against oscar’s shoulder again, while logan stretches out beside you.

you chat about your plans for the trip, the places you want to visit, and the food you’re excited to try. logan is the enthusiastic storyteller, recounting amusing anecdotes and trivia about your destination. oscar occasionally chuckles, his fingers lightly brushing yours as you share in the conversation.

the flight attendants come by with snacks and drinks, and you all take turns sharing bites and sips. it’s a small pleasure, but it feels special when done together. you look around at your partners—logan’s eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, oscar’s face relaxed and content—and feel a profound sense of gratitude fill you.

at some point during the flight, you drift off again. the gentle hum of the plane and the soft light filtering through the window provide a soothing backdrop. when you wake, the sun is dipping lower in the sky, casting a warm glow through the aeroplane. logan has shifted slightly, his arm now draped protectively around you, and oscar is still sitting patiently, letting you use him as a pillow. the two boys had been sharing a quiet moment, their heads close together above you in a comfortable silence.

as the plane begins its descent, you all share a look of excitement and anticipation. the vacation is just beginning, and you can’t wait to explore, laugh, and make memories together. the trip has already been filled with little moments of affection and togetherness, and you know that these moments will only continue to grow.

[cammys-imagines24]

°•Soft Moments with Mizu•°

Contrary to what others would claim, Mizu does have a soft side.

A side she's had to shove down into the deepest parts of herself because everytime she's let it be free, it's been a mistake.

She showed that side to Mikio and he betrayed her. Called her a monster.

But, she can be soft, gentle and playful to those she trusts, especially to you.

So much so that you'll never understand why people call her a demon in the first place.

The part within Mizu that was revealed to you was that of a woman in love. Who laughed and teased you in between kisses and smiles at you as if you were the very sun.

She quite literally and figuratively, let's her hair down with you.

Speaking of, she loves it when you comb through her hair.

After a long day of needing to fake it, she absolutely relishes being able to let her hair loose from its up-do and the feel of your hands in her hair.

Your fingers gently coaxing knots free from her silky black strands and the way you massage her skull, too. She can't help but let out a moan sometimes, despite being embarrassed about it but you love the sound.

Mizu will help you apply your makeup if you wish her to. She's not partial to wearing any herself, regardless of needing to pretend to be a man or not but she enjoys doing such an intimate routine with you.

Bonus points because she also gets to cradle your face in her hands, her fingers tracing the outline of your bottom lip just to see you blush so hard even the white can't conceal it.

On more than one occasion she purposely messes up your lip stain by pressing her mouth against yours. Her own lips smeared with your red pigment a sight to behold.

Whenever you're cold her navy cloak is yours, even if she's freezing herself.

Whenever you two spar together, though she may never let you win, she will steal so many kisses.

She'll pin you down over and over again just to kiss you and feel your body beneath hers. Her unable to stop herself from pushing her knee in between your legs.

By the time you're finished sparring you're too turned on to even care about how badly you lost to her.

When you two travel from town to town Mizu loves nothing more than being able to call you her "wife."

She'll say it's easier. Easier to get a room at an inn and better for you since then you don't receive unwanted attention from men because you're a "married woman."

But, really it's just because she adores calling you her spouse outloud. She'll call you her wife all day long.

Whatever you're eating, she will give you the bigger portion. The best piece. She'll take stuff she knows is your favorite off her own plate to give to you.

In the quiet of the night with you in her arms, Mizu will whisper sweet nothings in your ear and pull you close.

The harsh rasp of her voice replaced by her lighter tone instead, pretenses all gone.

She will tell you she loves you quietly, whispered in your ear or the very words traced along your bare skin with her fingertips.

Telling you how glad she is she found you when really you feel like the grateful one.

To others Mizu may be a demon, an Onryo but to you she's your beloved.

A woman who has shown you her vulnerabilities and who trusts you completely.

She would protect you to the ends of the earth and she cherishes you with all her pieced together heart.

[slytherin-princess-x]

Last day of slytherinmas 😭

My girl

Theodore nott x cheerleader!reader

Summary: you keep your relationship hidden but when a charming gryffindor captain tries to win you over, it’s not just a game of quidditch anymore it’s a game for you

A/n: it’s his pov guys and thank you for another great idea @smut-anarchy I wanna kiss your beautiful brain 💋

The sun hung high in the autumn sky, casting a warm golden hue over the Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts. The excitement of the crowd buzzed in my ears, a cacophony of cheers and shouts that rose and fell like the wind. I stood on the sidelines, my heart pounding not from the thrill of the game but from a simmering anger that threatened to boil over.

Gryffindor was playing Slytherin today, and while the usual rivalry had me on edge, it wasn’t the opposing team that had me fuming. No, it was their captain, Oliver Wood. With his tousled hair and those infuriatingly charming winks he kept sending toward the Slytherin cheerleaders, my focus shifted solely to him, and more specifically, to Y/N.

Y/N was mesmerizing, even in her cheer uniform. Her laughter rang out above the rest, and every time Wood shot her a flirty wink, a knot tightened in my stomach. I couldn’t stand it. She was my girl, and I had no intention of letting anyone else think otherwise.

As I watched Wood fly around the pitch, I could feel the rage bubbling within me. He was supposed to be focused on the game, yet he was wasting precious moments trying to win Y/N’s affection rather than leading his team. I clenched my fists, my knuckles white as I considered what I would do to show him that she wasn’t interested in his charming little antics.

When Slytherin scored their first goal, I caught Y/N’s eye. She smiled brightly, her eyes sparkling with delight, but I could see the confusion lurking beneath the surface. Did she even realize how much Wood was flirting with her? I hoped not. The last thing I wanted was for her to reciprocate. My mind raced with thoughts of how to assert my claim, how to remind everyone that she was mine.

As the match continued, it became apparent that I needed to focus. I was a Beater, and my job was to protect my teammates, to ensure that we won. But my attention kept being drawn to the Gryffindor captain. The way he smiled at Y/N and winked, as if it were a game in itself.

“Focus, Nott,” Blaise shouted to me, making me force my gaze back to the pitch. I could hear the cheers from the stands, feel the adrenaline surging in the air, but it was all clouded by my growing jealousy.

The game wore on, and it seemed that Oliver was determined to keep his flirtation going. I could see him glance at Y/N every chance he got, completely ignoring the game’s flow. It only fueled my determination. I was ready to send him a message, to make him realize that he was crossing a line.

With every swing of my bat, I aimed to protect my teammates while keeping an eye on Wood. I wasn’t above playing dirty if it meant defending my territory.

“Keep your eyes on the ball, Theo!” My friend Draco’s voice broke through my haze of anger. I barely registered him; I was locked on Oliver.

Then it happened. A bludger was coming straight for Wood as he flew high above the pitch. Instinct kicked in; I swung my bat, sending the ball hurtling toward him with a calculated force. The impact was satisfying as he narrowly dodged it, but I could see the annoyance flash in his eyes. Good. Let him know I’m not here to play nice.

The match progressed, and with each passing moment, I felt the tide of the game turning in our favor. My teammates rallied, fueled by the promise of victory and the desire to defend our honor. Y/N cheered us on from the sidelines, her voice ringing clear and bright.

Finally, as the match neared its end, Slytherin secured a decisive lead. The moment came when I saw Oliver making yet another desperate attempt to impress Y/N with a flashy move. I could feel my anger boiling over, and I took one last swing of my bat, sending a bludger careening directly at him.

He dodged, but the distraction was enough. Our Seeker, Millicent, dove toward the Golden Snitch, her determination matched only by my own. She caught it, and the crowd erupted in cheers.

Slytherin had won.

As I landed on the pitch, adrenaline coursing through me, I scanned the crowd for Y/N. She was beaming, her smile lighting up my world, and in that moment, I knew I had to claim her in front of everyone. I had to show Wood and the rest of the school that she belonged to me.

I strode toward her, my heart pounding in my chest. When I reached her, the noise of the crowd faded, and it was just the two of us. Without hesitation, I pulled her into my arms and kissed her fiercely. It was a declaration, a promise, a way to stake my claim.

The crowd erupted into a mix of cheers and gasps, but I didn’t care. I could feel Y/N’s surprise melt into delight as she kissed me back, her hands tangled in my hair.

Oliver’s glare from the other side of the pitch was almost palpable, but I didn’t let it bother me. I had won the game, and more importantly, I had won her heart.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. I was Theodore Nott, the boy who defended what was his, and I had no intention of letting anyone—especially not Oliver Wood—get in my way.

Taglist: @yootvi @redeemingvillains @littlemadamred @smut-anarchy

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

Hey, I love your writing it is amazing ! Can you please write a story about Marcus acacius being in a political match with a reader from a city he conquered ? ❤️❤️

warnings: +18, some nudity, some kissing, some wine, forced marriage, mentions of war and death

note: I don't know if you'll like it, sweetie. rather boring. but thank you very much for this message with a request, it was good to take my mind off everyday life.

General Marcus Acacius [masterlist]

marriage l General Marcus Acacius

The golden bracelets fell with a loud clatter to the bottom of the ornate metal bowl.

"This is unacceptable." You repeated for the umpteenth time that day and probably the thousandth time in the past few days. "I don't know who could have allowed this to happen. This is..."

You were at a loss for words, so all you could do was groan loudly with suppressed rage. "If I were a man..."

"But you're not, my lady. If you were a man, your head would have been impaled on a spear and exposed to public view long ago." Ava, your servant, approached you and slowly began to remove the next pieces of jewelry that adorned you. "General Acacius seems quite..."

"I don't care." You interrupted her quickly, and seeing the smile, you asked quickly "Do you know anything more? Tell me."

The fighting lasted a long time and many people died. Fire, death, screams and the clatter of steel. Finally, the sun disappeared, covered by a huge cloud of black smoke. The Roman Empire came and claimed the land you were born and lived on. With blood and sword, as they were wont to do.

The city was conquered. You could no longer defend yourselves, it was pointless. Nothing could resist such power and strength.

You saw it all, but you didn't know that your fight wasn't over. When you were informed that as part of a political agreement with the occupiers, you were to marry the general who commanded this army, you were furious.

"My lady." the man who brought you this news bowed deeply "It is necessary. The city will gain protection. The people will be safe."

You could still smell the smoke, it permeated you. You saw the ruins and women mourning their loved ones. You knew he was right.

The first time you saw General Marcus Acacius was when he entered the city with his army and officially took over its rule. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with a prominent nose and curly hair sprinkled with gray. You didn't like him.

You saw him for the second time during the wedding ceremony. He had beautiful brown eyes, and his hands grabbed yours with unusual gentleness for a soldier. He tried to smile at you, but you were too proud, too angry and too scared. 

You had to look at him with a mixture of all these feelings, because he lowered his gaze and didn't dare to look into your face again that evening.

You knew, however, that he was watching you. You felt his gaze on you, but you didn't take off the mask you put on. You wanted him to feel that you did it out of compulsion, that you didn't want such a husband, that he didn't even deserve your attention.

Ava carefully put down the necklace decorated with precious stones and looked at you with strange excitement.

"You know, my lady, that several of our servants were sent to serve high-ranking soldiers." you nodded "I spoke to the one who served General Acacius."

You frowned. "Did he hurt her? Those barbarians shouldn't..."

But she shook her head. "He didn't do anything." she replied. "Kayi served him in the bath, and the General didn't even touch her with a finger, didn't spare her a glance. She expected that after such long battles, the presence of a woman would be provocative for him, but no. He dismissed her."

"What does that mean?"

"I have no idea." Ava sighed. "But you, my lady, will find out tonight. General Acacius is your husband now."

You almost jumped when you heard the door to your chamber slam. He was here with you, you couldn't escape anymore. The footsteps indicated that he had crossed the room and approached the table where the wine was. You watched him closely from the bed you were sitting on.

The armor he was wearing shone. The precise hands of the servants must have taken care to wash the blood and dirt off it. You saw that the General poured the wine into two goblets, then turned and slowly headed towards you.

"It's been a long evening. You must be tired, my lady." His voice was pleasant, low and enveloping. You hesitantly took the goblet from his hand.

"Indeed." You replied. "I think there's still a lot ahead of us."

General Acacius looked at you with interest. "Do you think so? I saw how contemptuously you look at me." you didn't look down even though you felt the heat creeping up your neck "I don't blame you. I even expected it. I would be surprised if a woman like you welcomed the occupier with open arms. I wouldn't be surprised if you have a hidden dagger under your robe."

"Do you want to search me, General?" you looked at him defiantly. You thought about stabbing him in bed, but what then? The Romans would raze the city to the ground, not a stone would be left on a stone, and the inhabitants would end up slaughtered or as slaves.

"I believe you are reasonable." he took a sip of wine without taking his eyes off you, and you did the same "Call me Marcus."

"And what do you want to call me?"

"With your name. Or as you wish. Morning breeze? Favorite of the gods? Goddess? Beloved..." he took the goblet from your hand and placed it on a small table by the bed. "From the first moment I saw contempt in your eyes and I knew I deserved it. You don't greet someone who brought you war with flowers."

Marcus took off the cape that was thrown over his shoulders and carelessly threw it on the chair.

"This marriage wasn't my idea." he continued taking off more elements of his armor. "But I won't hide that when they showed me you I thought that the gods were really kind to me. But who am I to be worthy of someone like you..."

"You are the General of the invincible Rome." you stood up and walked up to him. Your hands were shaking, but you tried to hide it as you started to untie the straps at his side, his gaze was piercing you, you could almost feel it under your skin. "You conquered us. Such marriages are something that gives hope for peace and rebuilding what was destroyed. If I were a man, you would not have such mercy."

"But you are not. You are much more."

You raised your gaze to him. You could drown in his eyes, in this trembling candlelight they were like a dark well, but it did not scare you, quite the opposite. You immersed yourself in them slowly. With great care you took off his breastplate and carefully placed it on his cape.

"I don’t expect you to give yourself to me." Marcus said as you reached for the next straps. "I couldn’t be so impudent, greedy or..."

"You didn’t touch any of our servants. Why?"

Your question caught him off guard. "And should I?"

"Others would not hesitate."

"Or maybe something much more valuable was offered to me?" you frowned trying to understand his words. A small smile spread across his lips. "You, my lady."

Another piece of his armor fell to the floor. You didn't look away from his face though.

"I will not take you by force. I am not a barbarian."

"We must fulfill our duty to the gods. Otherwise, our marriage will not be accepted by them, or Rome..."

You gasped in fear as his hand grabbed your chin and turned your face to him. "Your body belongs to you. I have no right to it."

"As a husband..."

"As a husband, I would be honored if you allowed me to worship you, but I will not take you by force. You have my word."

You could feel that he was telling the truth. Every word that left his lips was a promise that you knew he intended to fulfill. Marcus stood before you in a burgundy tunic that he wore under his armor. If you had a dagger hidden under your robes, you could stab him, you knew exactly how to do it.

You only whispered. "I trust you, Marcus. I don't know why, but I do." 

He felt you tighten your fingers on the fabric he was wearing and began to remove it from him. You were slowly revealing his body. Skin kissed by the sun, a wide chest and strong arms. He saw your eyes flicker quickly down his chest straight to his half-hard cock.

"Forgive me, my lady, but if you saw yourself the way I see you, you would understand."

"I'll take that as a compliment." you replied.

Your hands reached for the ribbon that wrapped around your waist and after a moment the thin robe you were wearing slid off almost silently.

If Marcus was lying, you would have seen it in his gaze. But it wasn't there. And something strange began to form in your heart toward this man. You began to see him. Him, the man who stood before the woman and asked her for mercy. His body quivered as your hand rested on his chest.

"I should hate you, Marcus." You said quietly. "You brought war, death and tears. But looking at you I don't see it in your eyes, I don't feel it in you. We both can be pushed by the current of our history."

"If you had met me at a different time, could you..."

"Love you?" Your fingertips traced familiar patterns on his skin. "I don't know. Maybe."

He bowed his head slightly, his hand tenderly brushed your arm, sending a pleasant shiver through you. "And now?"

"I think time will give us that answer."

Something in your voice, touch and gaze made the thought he had been holding inside for so long come to the surface. A warm hand cupped your cheek, his thumb stroking your delicate and soft skin. "Just let me taste you once. I'm not asking for more."

You nodded, and he didn't hesitate. His lips crushed yours. He tasted you like you were the sweetest fruit in the world, the most perfect wine or a fresh breath of air. Your legs went soft so you clung to his solid body. The heat of his skin transferred to you at a fast pace.

And Marcus kissed you, his tongue slipped between your plush lips claiming another territory, but it was supposed to be only his. Only his.

You moaned quietly, a strong arm wrapped around your waist giving you stability and a sense of security.

Gods! If you had any doubts, they flew out of you at that moment. But it was Marcus who regained his senses. With no small effort he tore his lips from yours.

"If you give me more, I won't be able to hold back." he whispered "You're safe with me, I'll give you the world. I'll give anything in the hope that you'll be favorable to me."

"Then let's take this step together, Marcus." You replied just as quietly. "Let's see where this path leads. My husband." 

And he knew he was lost.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.