#fools mate extras

[mayimkjs]

Theatrical Depictions vs Representations When Talking About Kayano Mikoto

I find that people get confused by this in the community, so as a film student, I would like to clear up some misconceptions.

Defining Shit

What is a Theatrical Depiction?

Theatrical depictions are depictions of an object that are purely for entertainment purposes. These often differ from reality for audience clarity but are still based in reality and are built off of truths. What sets apart good and bad depictions is respect, research and concept. 

Respect: Respect those who are affected by the topic.

Research: Do adequate research using trustworthy resources.

Concept: Don't purely use tropes or stereotypes. Pulling a few traits from tropes is fine as long as you don't actually fully use said trope.

Depict - Noun

「Show or represent by a drawing, painting, or other art form.」

What is a Theatrical Representation?

Theatrical representations are slightly different. These try to show something as fact and are often not the best when it comes to complex topics. They are attempts at representations of reality. 

Represent - Noun

「Be entitled or appointed to act or speak for someone, especially in an official capacity.」

What is Audience Clarity?

Audience Clarity is how clear or understandable something is to an audience. This is almost always taken into account when creating a theatrical depiction. There are some topics, such as DID, that require slight modifications to achieve audience clarity. 

What is Mikoto?

Mikoto is a theatrical depiction. 

MILGRAM is suppose to create moral dilemmas and thus, a character like Mikoto isn’t an awful choice. It seems they've put in some research (ie. Es’ watered down explanation in Neoplasm being accurate for what it is) and the creator, Takuya Yamanaka, has a degree in psychology. They are going about this in a respectful manner by expanding on all parts of his character instead of taking the concept of an evil murder alter and running with it. 

There is a lot of depth to Mikoto and John's characters. There's more to John then just an angry dude who killed someone. All he wants to do is protect Mikoto, although, his means are far less then perfect. He's shown remorse and regret and can have civil conversations with people. He's snarky and has his own anxieties. Same with Mikoto. He's extroverted yet self conscious. He has his own habits like giving others nicknames and trying to adapt to the current situation. He has his own hopes and dreams.

DID and Storytelling

How would one create a good depiction of DID?

It is impossible to create an 100% accurate depiction DID in general due to audience clarity. Modifications need to be made if you want the audience to be able to tell which alter is currently in front. These modifications include more apparent switches and dissociation, larger gaps between personality traits, how each alter carries themself and exaggerating some aspects of the disorder. When exaggerating something, don't go too far with it.

What should one avoid when creating a character with DID?

However, one thing that should never be tampered with, is the basis of the disorder. His includes things such as how DID is developed and how it is presented in an individual. The writer should also never just throw every single traumatic thing onto a character and give them a million alters. Doing this, is just irresponsible. Even if the research is put in. 

Dummy and Incorrect Language

Let me give you an example of this. Your talking to your friend about DID, and instead of using the word "alter", you say "personality" because you know that they will understand what you mean. This is what dummy language is. Using simple, understandable terms. This is something that is passible while introducing a topic. Eventually, you will want to graduate from using dummy language if its not for a one time topic.

I think that's everything I wanted to touch upon. I might update this in the future if I think of something important that should have been added here.

[glamourscat]

I read ur tim headcanons and omg yessss pls do a one shot for tim trying to flirt and being adorably awkward!! 🙏🙏🙏

it came out more romantic than i intended to. i hope you still enjoy this loverboy Tim nonetheless! :)

while i was writing i listened to this playlist, also this is not proofread :(

Every Breath You Take | Tim Drake x reader

Tim was in love, but that would be an understatement. He was utterly and foolishly in love with you. And right now he was sure he was doing a poor job in hiding his feelings. You were in his new apartment. For someone who is a nepobaby times two, the apartment wasn’t anything “special”. If anything, it was modest at best. Not that there's anything wrong with modest. 

In fact, it felt right. It was smaller than the estate he grew up in or Bruce’s manor, but it just fit, you know? He had barely unpacked, the boxes all around the place scattered and yet it felt like home. Because of you. You, who decided to stay over for the past two days sleeping over on the shitty couch just to keep him company. Because Tim could have faked it all he wanted, but he was not one for silence nor loneliness. Having you so close felt right. It felt like home. 

And right now, he truly was doing a poor job in hiding his feelings. You two were sitting on his bed, he was straddling your lap as you did his makeup. Why? Why not? No reasons in particular. You two just had time to waste and an extra excuse to be together. The room was quiet with the exception of the cars passing on the street every so often and the soft, quiet music he was playing in the background on his laptop. There was not a word from you nor him though, which is making him more agitated. 

His mind is going so fast, trying to decode if you have caught on the fact he has stared at your lips for the 10th time alone in those five minutes. Or the fact he was fidgeting more than usual or even how his breathing was picking up each time slightly more when you got closer to him. Your breath was hot, the minty scent of the mint you ate earlier lingering between you two as your eyes were so focused on his face. He almost felt shy under your intense gaze, the way your eyes were so accurately looking and sculpting him like the finest artwork. 

The brush you were holding gently caresses shades of sparkling pink on his eyelids while your tongue slightly pokes out of your lips in concentration. So kiss me, pretty little bird. His heartbeat sped up and before he could control it, his mouth opened to let out the most foolish nonsense he has ever let out.

“You do know– once a penguin chooses its mate it’s pretty much for life?” why in the fuck did his mouth even say..

“Yeah? I did not know that actually.” you say, your lips curling in a smile as a little laugh leaves your mouth. So sweet.

“Yeah– I mean, it’s pretty cute. Like, maybe you know, we should do like them. Like the penguins I mean.” he says out before he can register what he had just let out. For the love of– he truly was an idiot at times. 

You stayed quiet. Maybe choosing if to ignore what came out of his mouth, laugh or run away. Maybe all three. And he wouldn’t have blamed you if you chose the latter. 

“Tim?” your voice is quiet, interrogative almost.

“Yes?” god he hated how quiet and pathetic he sounded.

“Are– you saying what i mean you’re…” you stop your sentence in half, looking at him with your mouth slightly apart. “I… I am sorry” you muttered quickly.

“Sorry for w–” but his words died on his tongue as your lips touched his. An involuntary moan left his lips at the sensation. He pushes more of his weight on you, making your back touch the mattress as his hands find your cheeks to deepen the kiss. Gentle yet such a hungry kiss.

“You– you’re shit at flirting” your words came out in a pant, your smile soft and teasing, as a small chuckle left your lips. Lips that were still touching his, despite being separated to catch some air.

“I– oh just shut up” he says equally panting, grinning as a fool, as his lips touched yours again and again and again.

And hopefully, for the rest of eternity too.

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[m00nchildwrites]

Forever, You and Me: Rafayel x MC/Reader Smut

This is a one shot, smut drabble inspired by @jinwoosbabyboo 's answer post describing how the LADS men would react to you storming of and not responding to theirs calls and texts after a bad fight. Her writing is flipping amazing. ISTF I devour everything she writes. 

I was intending to just repost her post with a little response of how I think Rafayel would cope with such an event, and it just... took off and swept me anyway, and well... apparently it's angsty feels and thirsty hours and I blame @jinwoosbabyboo completely for this because her writing always getting my imagination going! So responding to her with my extra thoughts about Rafayel became a one shot, smutty drabble spilled out.  

So here is her post that inspired the one-shot below, so you can read the Rafayel part that got this whole thing going and also, please go read her sections about Xavier, Zayne, and Sylus because you will be missing out if you don't. Seriously, go now.: https://www.tumblr.com/jinwoosbabyboo/763177878569549824/dont-run-off-like-that?source=share 

18+. MDNI! 

TW: angst, cursing, self-depreciation, depression, mention of death or wanting to die, ya boy gets dark and big big sad, hurt/comfort, they def kiss and make up, SMUT, what is foreplay? They just want to bone, couple's first time together, detailed sex depicted, fucking, use of the word fuck a lot, dirty talk, usage of "babygirl", possessive Rafayel (in bed), unprotected sex, mating press, squirting, overstimulation, cum, my own Lemurian bond headcanon, Rafayel has a filthy mouth and MC loves it, cum/breeding kink if you squint. 

*clears throat* 

Enjoy. 

~~~~~~ 

Forever, You and Me 

[ @jinwoosbabyboo prompt: 

You told the LADS Men to not piss you off and what did they do? Pissed you off. How I imagine they would react to you storming off in tears and you're not answering their calls or texts.] 

The moment you spun on your heel and fled his home Rafayel was after you. The angry and uncharacteristic yell of frustration you had given out before doing so, after he failed to back off during your disagreement, turned argument, turned first real fight made his stomach drop and curl in the worst way. Your voice played in his head as he ran out his door and down to the street in front of his house after you. 

Stop! Just... please stop a moment. I hate that we are yelling. This isn't us. This isn't you. This isn't me. Just- Give me a second to breathe for fuck's sake, Rafayel, please! 

His words rang in his head too.  

If you don't want to hear the sound of my voice anymore, if you don't want to be with me anymore, then why don't you just leave. You always end up leaving anyway. 

He never expected you to actually do it. But he had watched as your eyes widened in shock and hurt, and then narrowed. Then you were gone. 

He ran, flinging open the metal gate and stepping onto the sidewalk, eyes desperate, searching for your retreating figure. He had to find you. Apologize. He knew he could be intense sometimes, dramatic occasionally, and that he could push your buttons just to see if you'd leave him. Leave him like the you of your past life had done. Like you had always done. 

But he was a fool. 

That you wasn't this you. That you was dead and gone. And you, you were the same but so different. You were everything and he had gone and fucked it up. Again. 

His head whipped around frantic. Spirits of his ancestors, did you sprint!?!  The pit in his gut swelled and grew. He couldn't see you anywhere. He yanked out his phone dialing your number as he started jogging off down the sidewalk. You couldn't have gotten far. Right? 

The call went to voicemail. He stopped staring blankly at it. You didn't answer. Maybe... Maybe you couldn't get it in time, yeah. That was it. He breaks out into a jog again, and again rings your number. He would find you. Maybe you were at the bus stop? He pushed his legs faster as the voicemail picked up again. 

You weren't at the bus stop. It had just left. Spitting out a stream of curses that made a little old lady whack him with her bag, Rafayel dialed a different number. He pressed the phone to his ear, "Thomas, I need a car.... no, I'm not at home. I am headed to Linkon City. On foot. Thomas, please no more questions, just have the car find me! This is urgent!" 

When the car-Thomas- found him, he was halfway to Linkon, sweating, sticky, gross, and stressed. He sent out a stream of texts asking you where you had gone, why you weren't answering, that he was sorry, begging you to come back, to answer, to curse him, anything. But they all went unanswered. 

As he went to all your known haunts and favorite places, from your work to the grocery store near your place to your apartment where he ran into an unimpressed blonde Hunter partner of yours that looked perpetually in need of a nap and who refused to buzz him into the building, Rafayel's mental and emotional state continued to spiral. His emotions went from apologetic to concern to flat out fear for your safety. Which he had made clear to that blonde partner of yours... he very nearly throttled the ass. Why did he not see how urgent this was? His words had struck Rafayel and made his stomach turn sour. 

"If MC was in danger, I'd be the first to know, after all, I'm her partner." 

His world felt off kilter. Would the blonde be the first to know? Surely not. Surely, it would be him, Rafayel. Your boyfriend of the past few months. You were soulmates. You came together lifetime after lifetime. He always found you. Always could hunt you down. Always. 

Except now. Except this time. Where had you gone? 

If you don't want to hear the sound of my voice anymore, if you don't want to be with me anymore, then why don't you just leave. You always end up leaving anyway. 

You always end up leaving anyway. 

He visibly flinched. He was a fucking idiot. He turned his head to stare blindly out the window, avoiding Thomas' gaze in the rear view mirror. His assistant had given up trying to get answers from him. Instead, he watched in with worry all over his face.  

Rafayel was soaked. It had begun to rain. It was quicky becoming night. He had been calling, texting, and searching for you for hours. He had ran himself to the point of near exhaustion, and nearly gotten the cops called on him at her work when he kept asking Hunter's outside if they had seen you. How embarrassing. For you, not him. He couldn't give a damn as long as he found you, but you... you clearly didn’t want him to find you. 

You were gone. He had told you to leave if you didn't want him and you had gone. 

He felt numb as the car stopped at last in front of his gate. The car hesitated, Thomas no doubt watching him in concern as he drug his feet passed his gate. Rafayel didn't care. He had pushed you away. Lost you. And it was all his fault. And for what? 

The argument had been so stupid. He walked in, not bothering to shut the door. Clothes dripping, leaving pools on the floor as he walked through his home. He passed the dining room that still had your wine glasses and the open bottle and desserts out. He grabbed the open bottle as he moved deeper into the house.  

He kicked off his shoes, leaving a trail headed to his living room. The flowers he had bought you sat on a vase on the coffee table. He stared it down as he plopped, wet, onto his couch. How had such a good night turned so sour? Why did he have to push at your buttons sometimes? Was it just to see? Just to see if you'd leave him? 

You always end up leaving anyway. 

His stomach felt sick. He chugged from the open bottle. Why would he do that? You didn't deserve it. Was he that fucked up from his past that he had to take it out on you? Why couldn't he let go of what had happened in your lives before this one? You were not like him. You didn't remember everything. No wonder you left. 

He tsked, and not for the first time, wondered if your "curse" to not remember your past lives was really a curse at all. After all, if he couldn't remember, then he wouldn't treat you as though you were going to leave at any moment. Because you had never given him any indication that you planned to. 

The past few months of your relationship, that you two were "official", had been perfection. Sure, you had little spat and sometimes would snap at each other, but there had been so much love. He swallowed a lump in his throat. Love. 

He had not even gotten the chance to tell you. 

He had been waiting- waiting for the perfect moment. He was going to tell you tonight. It was why he had gone the extra step to make lunch that much more romantic. It was why a meat and cheese board and fresh fruit were waiting in his fridge for later that night. He hadn't planned on either of you leaving until morning, if then. It was the reason for the flowers before him, the flower petals in the no doubt cold tub upstairs, the petals spread across his bed. Tonight was going to be the night. The one where he told you that you were the love of his life, of all of his lives. He was going to explain what that meant to a Lemurian- how binding and forever that was. And should you accept, he had planned to ask you to- 

He winced, eyes squeezing shut as his chest flared in pain. In protest. His hand not holding the bottle, now empty, clutched at his chest. A hiss of pain. The pain passed. Rafeyel dropped the bottle onto the coffee table before his eyes landed on the vase. He knocked the flowers over, sending the vase off the other side of the coffee table, glass shattering and water spilling with flowers and petals across the floor. 

It didn't matter what he was going to ask you. You were gone. His eyes blurred, hot, as tears formed on his lashes. He pulled his knees up to his chest. His shoulders shook.  

You were gone. 

~~~~~ 

Your feet tripped as you hurried down the sidewalk, dodging puddles as you went. You did not mean for time to get away from you. When you ran out of Rafayel's earlier, you had only meant to get some fresh air for a short while as you calmed down. You both had ended up yelling earlier and it had felt so wrong. Wrong because it wasn't like either of you.  

Yes, you had had disagreements. Rafayel hated when you put yourself in unnecessary danger, though he respected you and your skills at work, even you had to admit that he wasn't wrong when he said you took risks. You didn't mean to. It never was your plan, but something went down and you just sprang into action. He had been right, you had partner's in the association for a reason. But it was the way he had said it today, like you were doing it on purpose just to spite him. As though you enjoyed stressing him and making him worry, it had just set you off. You had told him off, and things had spiraled. 

And for what? He wasn't even wrong. It just rankled your feathers today because of something some dumb Jock head at work had said about women Hunter's needing to be paired with a male Hunter since they were the weaker sex. The dude was written up on the spot; the idiot had said it in front of everyone including your very female boss- moron. But still, you hated being looked down on.  

And so, you had taken out that frustration on Rafayel. On your sweet, silly, bratty, but absolutely adoring Rafayel. You had seen how your words had hurt him. When you had said that you didn't need him or any man worrying or looking after you. You had seen the flinch as though you had slapped him as you flung his worry and concern back into his face as though it revolted you. 

You had hurt him. And then realized that you both were yelling, and it was all just too much. You felt like you couldn't breathe. It hadn't felt like you. Like him. So, when you asked for a moment to allow your mind to settle and clear so you could think rationally and he just kept on, you snapped. He offered you an out, and you took it the offer and walked out. 

You walked out knowing his fear of abandonment. You knew and still walked out without looking back. You walked and walked along the shore. Then it started to rain, and you had to find shelter. And to top it off, you hadn't realized your phone was dead until you were stuck miles down the beach, in the rain, hiding out under a pier, and realized you had to now walk all the way back. Why had you gone to the beach instead of your home? 

You sighed, spotting Rafayel's house in the distance at last. Of course. Of course, you knew why. Because the beach reminded you of your Lemurian, your Rafayel. Even when you were mad at him, you longed for him. Sought out his essence for comfort. Gods, you loved him so much. So much and you never said it out loud yet. You had to tell him. 

You picked up the pace and jogging up to his gate. Nearing his door, you saw it open, but thought nothing of it. Rafayel often left it open for you or from distraction as a bolt of inspiration hit him. The house looked dark from the entryway. You called out his name as you toed off your sandy shoes and socks. 

You gasped as you stepped and nearly slipped in a large, cold puddle. A trail of puddles large and smaller led inside. You tucked a damp strand of hair behind your ear, and cautiously made your way inside. 

"Rafayel? Are you home?" "Rafayel?" "Ugh, why is it so dark in here? Stupid dead phone. I need a light." 

You stumbled into the dining room and followed the wall to the kitchen. You flicked a switch and squinted at the sudden change in brightness. His whole studio was empty and dark. The light from the kitchen spilling out into his painting area across the large room and into the living room area. 

Your eyes squinted, focusing. There was a lump on the couch. "Rafayel?" You near him and see the wine bottle on the coffee table nearby and broken glass and flowers scattered around. You step carefully to not get a shard of glass in your foot as you move around the room to him. 

"Rafayel? I'm sorry it's late. I didn't mean to be gone for so long, but I went further than I meant to and then my phone died..." You trailed off as he came fully into view. He sat on his couch, cheeks wet with tears, clutching his chest. 

You understood all at once why he grabbed that spot, and your heart lurches and drops. You kneeled next to him carefully, "Rafayel?" 

When you call out to him, he let out a choked sob of a tortured laugh.  

You lean, moving to place your face into his line of sight. He sits frozen, staring daze out of open windows. "Rafe?" 

His voice sounded hollow, "Go away." You heart dropped until his voice continues, "You are a specter. MC is gone. She left. Left me." His voice cracked, more tears spill over his lash line to trail down porcelain cheeks. His voice a near whisper, "I've lost you. I love you. I love you more than my homeland, my people. More than my very life. I have loved you through countless lifetimes and will through countless more." He clenched his eyes as he clenched his chest, "I love you enough to let you go if that's what you wish. I'd give it all for you. My last breath. So, please, leave. Don't haunt my mind like you've haunted my heart these last 800 years. You're gone. At last, you've chosen and it isn't me. Leave me to my heartbreak in peace. Leave me to fade into seafoam at last." 

A sob hiccupped past your lips. How could you have hurt him so? This beautiful man with such a beautiful heart and soul. You reached out to brush your fingers across his cheeks, fingers combing into lavender curls as you cup his cheeks, begging, imploring him to see you.  

His eyes shut, agony on his face. 

"I am here, Rafayel. I'm real." 

A choked sob fell from his lips. 

"Look at me." 

A shake of his head. If he does, you'll disappear. Slip through his fingers like mist. He wants to stay in his illusion just a while longer. Hear your voice just a while longer before he has to spend eternity without you, or at least, eternity until he fades away back into sea foam like so many of his people before. 

"Rafayel, my love, please look at me." 

Violet eyes opened, hesitant and sorrowful. 

You smiled, soft, full of love, thumbs wiping stray tears. "I am here. I'm sorry I got so mad earlier. It wasn't even about you; It was a long shitty day, and that's no excuse. You didn't deserve for me to react like that to what you were saying. And I'm sorry I ran. I hated that I was so upset and I couldn’t calm down, so I just need to step away, but- I hurt you. I hurt you so badly, and I never ever meant to. That's the last thing I want because I-" Your voice cracked, a lump of emotion in your throat. Your eyes fell, ashamed. "I just- gods, Rafayel, I love you so much it makes me feel crazy sometimes. I- I'm sorry this is not how I imagined telling you this." You started to pull away. 

Large, long fingered hands gripped your shoulders. "Say it again." 

You blinked, confused by the urgency in his voice as he searched your face. 

"Please. Please say it again or I will be convinced I imagined it." 

You studied his eyes. Firmly in his grip, your brows furrowed until it clicked. Your tension left you. Your hands rose once more to cup his face. A soft smile spread across yours as his cheeks pinken under your touch. "I love you, Rafayel. With all my hea-" 

You were jerked forward into his chest. His lips crashed onto yours. His hands were desperate as they clung to your back, crushing you closer, impossibly closer, as though he needed your very beings to blur into one. His tongue swiped at your lips, hot and wet, begging entry. Demanding it. 

You gasped from the intensity of his kiss. His passion poured forth like an unending wall of water bursting from a dam. His tongue danced along yours, caressing, tasting. Hungry and needy. Warm velvet and tasting of the wine you both had been drinking before your argument hours before. 

Your hands found his shoulders, trying to ground yourself or be swept away. You accidentally slipped out a sound. A needy sound of passion. His answering moan as he angled his head to kiss you deeper made a pleasant shiver run down your spine to pool between your legs. 

In a flash, his hands gripped your thighs, tugging you into his lap as he stood. 

You broke the kiss with a gasp, hands scrambling to hold on. Arms wrapping around his neck as his head ducked, his lips covering your neck in messy, hot, open mouthed kisses. 

"Wh-what? Where are you taking me?" 

His voice was a husky grumble from somewhere deep in his chest, as he licked and nipped at your throat. "I'm taking you to bed, my Heart." 

Next thing you knew, your back was falling onto cream silken sheets.  

He stood between your parted knees hanging over the edge of the bed. His violet eyes raked over your face hungrily. His lips were parted, chest rising and falling as he panted for breath. He didn't move, tongue peaking out to wet his lips. He was breathtaking. He was passion personified, hair mussed from your fingers, lips damp and red swollen from your kisses.  

His voice and the look in his eyes made your insides clench as he reached out, hand on your knee, thumb brushing the inside just so, "If you want me to stop... if you dont want this or..." his thumb stopped, he face flinched, eye closing briefly as though from pain, before opening to peer into your eyes. "If you are unsure of this, of us, of me, tell me now, because once we do this, once we... you will be mine, and I will be yours. It can't be undone. For Lemurians, this is for life, for all time. A soul bond. It's more than any mortal human tradition. More than marriage. It's unbreakable, unending, forever you'd be mine and I'd be yours. If you are unsure-" 

You sat up, going onto your knees atop the bed before him. Your palms rested on his shoulders, "Rafayel..." your hands slid down to his chest. "I- " Your hand stopped at the place on his chest were your mark laid, though the red fish wasn't visible now. Your eyes flicked to his, "I want this." Your hands were on the move again smoothing lower down his chest. "I want this bond. I-" Your hands found the bottom of his shirt, fingertips dancing along the hem before slipping under.  

He gasped, stomach muscles clenching beneath your touch as your hands found his taunt skin beneath.  

"I want forever. I want you." Your hands trailed up the plains of his chest, bringing his shirt with you. Until at last, you griped it in your hands, eyes meeting his in askance.  

His lashes fluttered, eyes falling half-mast. He was breathtaking. His arms rose, allowing you to lift the shirt from his body before flinging the offending material away. 

Your hands fell back to his shoulders, one sliding to cup his neck as you rose to meet him, chest pressing to his. His gaze turned molten, lust heavy and full of love as he looked over your face. His hands came to rest, just so at your waist, still hesitant but hopeful.  

Resolved, you pushed away your nerves, pulling his head down. Breath mingling with his, you gave him what he wanted. What he needed, "I love you. I chose you, Rafayel. Forever and always. Forever, you and me." 

His lips crashed into yours like waves upon a storm wall. He laid you down in a sea of silk and white rose petals.  

You snatched one, lifting it between you with a raise eyebrow.  

He flushed beautifully, "I had plans for us tonight." 

You dropped the petal, fingers weaving through his silken waves. "Show me." 

Clothes flew to land forgotten on the floor. Breaths panted; needy sounds filled the air, carried away through the open balcony windows and out to the sea. His hands and lips mapped you like you were a precious treasure. His lips and tongue worshipped you, swiping the salt from your skin. His breath was hot in your ear as he- at last- slotted his hips between your parted thighs.  

"My Heart, my Queen, my love," fell from his lips like a mantra.  

You felt him there, this mushroomed tip parting your lower lips, dragging the pooled wetness and spreading it. You gasped, nails digging into his shoulders. 

He groaned, head falling to nuzzle your neck. Still, he froze, going no further. He panted, asking, "Are you sure?" 

You cupped his face, dragging his eyes up to yours, "Rafayel, I have never been more sure of anything in my life. Take me. I am yours." You ran your fingers along his cheek, repeating his words from before, "A soul bond. unbreakable, unending, forever. This is what I chose. It's you, Rafayel. It's always been you." You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer, causing his hips to drop. You gasped. His tip slipped into your molten heat just so. 

His head fell back, long pale neck exposed. He bit his lip. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. When his gaze fell back to you, his eyes were dark, like the ocean in a storm.  

Your walls clenched.  

His eyes squeezed shut, a moan falling from his lips, a curse followed. His gaze, heavy and passionate, were back on yours, his arms shaking, "So be it. My Heart, my Queen, my love," his mouth would curl slightly into a playful smirk, "my bride." His hips snapped forward, his full hard length pushing into your gummy walls to full hilt, his pelvis slapping hard into your fleshy cheeks. You could feel him, his tip kissing your cervix. A moan fell from your lips; a hiss of pleasure from his. He stilled buried fully inside you, muscles trembling with the strain. His jaw clenched as he fought for control, "Fuck, love, you feel so good." 

Your hands scrambled for purchase on his shoulders, as he rocked his hips dragging almost all the way out only to snap his hips back, slamming back in. Your nail dug into his back. A babble of praise fell from your lips, "So good. So good, Rafayel. So full." 

He groaned head dropping to your collarbone, "Fuck, love, I can feel you sucking me in." He hissed, "so tight. Like you were made just for me, yeah?" His hips pulled back, dragging his length along your walls until just the tip remained. He leaned up, brushing your hair from your face to cradle your head in one hand, the other braced him on the bed near your head. "Look at me. I want to watch you as I make you mine." 

When your eyes fund his, his face softened a moment. His eyes sweeping over your face in awe before meeting and holding your gaze, he whispered a breathy, "I love you." His eyes darkened with heat again, and he snapped his hips to crash back into yours. He swallowed your answering moan with a bruising kiss, drinking you in, as his hip set a brutal rhythm.  

You clung to him, hips eagerly tilting and undulating to meet his as he pounded you into the sheets. The headboard slammed repeatedly into the wall. You shifted up slightly each powerful thrust. His hands grabbed yours bringing them to wrap around his shoulders, "Brace yourself against me, my love. Fuck! I'm going to ruin you. Ruin you for all others! MC, you are perfect. And you are mine." He melded his lips to yours, tongue moving along yours gently and loving. A sharp contrast to how he was fucking you into his bed. His thrusts were hard and deep, rolling into you like waves. The sound of slapping skin filled the air.  

You gasped, moaned, pleaded as he made your head spin with pleasure, "Yes! Yes, Rafayel! I am yours! Make me yours!" 

The sound that rumbled from his chest was a near growl as he leaned up to grip the headboard with one hand for leverage, his hips doubled in speed. His abs rolled as he kept one hand braced above your shoulder, locking you in place as he repeatedly slammed his cock as deep into as he could get. 

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you clung to his arms. Your legs went limp around his waist as pleasure boiled inside you, hot and heavy. Your head thrashed from side to side from the intensity of the waves of sharp pleasure swelling inside you. Your walls began fluttering, clenching, wrapping at his hard length as he pummeled your insides. His tip kissed your cervix with each thrust, giving a burst of the slightest pain-pleasure. You could feel the wetness of you gushing out passed his shaft as it pounded in and out of your tight channel, every ridge of him dragging along your walls in the best way. You were not going to last long. No one, not even yourself had ever gotten you this wet and close to orgasm as Rafayel was doing. It was as though he knew exactly how to make your body sing for him. 

He shifted. The angle changed and you gasped, clinging, clawing, nails digging as his tip bullied into your g-spot with every snap of his hips.  

"Fu-fuck baby!" You wailed, "God's, Rafayel, right there, baby. Please don't stop. Don't stop!" 

His response was a snarl in your ear as his hips snapped into that spot in double time. "Never. I'll never stop. Never stop making love to you, my love. My bride." He kissed you deeply as your walls started spasming. Your climax was close. A hand of his dropped from your neck to slip between you to where you are joined. His fingertips finding the pearl above where he slides into you. The pad of his finger swirling, circling and pressing your clit just right. 

You moaned, head thrown back, "Yess!" 

He covered your neck in love marks, branding you as his. His lips moved to your ear, nipping at the skin right below it, "Are you gonna come for me, my love? Are you gonna come all over my cock like a good girl. Be good bride, hm, come for me," his voice was pure sin in your ear. 

You could only whimper and cling to him, desperate.  

"Answer me. Tell me who you belong to. Say it. I want the people down the beach to hear you scream it. To hear whose cock makes you feel this good. Say it. Say who you belong to." 

You sputtered and gasped out sobs, in capable of words as you race towards your end. 

He took your hips in his hands. He leaned back on his knees. He rose your hips off the bed. His hips slamming into you, hard and fast- almost inhumanly so. The plop, plop, plop of his sack as it slaps against the sticky mess of your cheeks filled the room. He groaned, "Fuck, baby. You feel so good for me. I fucking love you, MC. Fuck, I love you." 

The coil within you snapped and pulses of white hot heat sent tremors, shockwave through your body as your core clamped down on his shaft. Your head fell back as you screamed out his name in the height of your passion, in reverence, "Rafayel!" You sobbed. Actual tears escaped as the white hot waves of orgasm mixed with love for him kept coming.  

His hips never stopped slamming his hard cock into you, bruising your g-spot and cervix. It was heaven. It was bliss. It was so much. It was almost too much. You tensed nearly about to say stop when a sensation you had never felt before hit you like a brick. Your core tightened, abs clenching, your very womb felt like it clenched, your walls clamped tight down around him, almost stopping his movement completely. Then the spasms, ripples of pleasure pulsed from your womb down your walls, massaging, milking, clenching his shaft inside you. You vaguely hear him hiss and a debauched, "Fuck," escape his lips. And  then you feel a gush of warm liquid splash out of you and all over his dick and pelvis. 

Rafayel's violet gaze widened, his grip tightening almost painfully into the fleshy meat of your hips as he held you against him. His head fell back and he moaned, fully wrecked. "Fuck! Babygirl, you just squirted for me." 

Your core clenched at his words even as high sensitivity began to creep in, but he felt so good. So good and hard inside you. You could tell he wasn't too far off. Just the thought of it turned you back on. You desperately wanted to see him lose himself to orgasm. And he was so fucking beautiful as he began rolling his hips into yours again. 

You must've said that last part out loud, because he looked back down at you, lip caught between his teeth before he released it, plump and full. You wanted to bite it. A smirk was on his face, "Yeah? Is that so, babygirl?" His eyes darkened as his hips picked up speed, rolling more into you, faster as he spoke, "You know what's beautiful? You. You splayed out on my bed, looking fucked out, covered in your cum, face flushed as I. Fuck. You." He punctuated his words with a hard thrust, fingers digging into your hips deliciously. 

You gasped, walls clenching again as he steadily fucked you into another crest. His face fell into a grimace, as your walls, overstimulated into another quickly growing orgasm, clenched and released and clenched his shaft as he began to thrust into you with wild abandon, "Fuck, babygirl, I can feel you clenching me, yeah? You love the feel of this dick pounding you, don't you? So. Fucking. Beautiful. And. All. Mine." 

His mouth was filthy. Filthy and hot. You had never heard Rafayel speak in such a way. Rafayel who was often bashful and blushing when your flirting. Rafayel who tended to be a pouty needy boy that made your heart melt. This Rafayel was just as needy. But in a way you had never seen him before, as he panted your name from his lips like a mantra. His gorgeous head tossed back, neck exposed, abs clenching and rolling his hips as he slammed into you, face flushed and skin covered in a sheen of sweat. He was breathtaking. He was yours. You wanted him to come, and come for you now. 

Your hands scrambled to the headboard above you, bracing against it in determination. You started to roll your hips into his, meeting each powerful thrust with as much force as he was giving you. You were gonna come again but this time, this time, you were taking him with you. 

He gasped, fingers digging into your fleshy hips. His eyes snapped down to you, seeing the heat in your eyes as they raked over his body, your lip caught between your teeth. He groaned at the sight and at the feel of your hips moving in rhythm with his. "F-fuck, my love, I'm gonna come. Where do you- where should I-?" His voice is completely fucked out. Almost drunk. 

You tugged his arm and he fell back over you, compliant to your every whim, your knees swept up to rest over his arms as he braced himself with them framing your waist. Your legs were trapped pressed up and apart, unable to move as freely, to roll as deeply with your knees hooked over his forearms like this. But oh. You saw stars and he moaned in your ear. At this angle, with you opened wide, it felt like he went deeper. You both gasped out moans. Your lips brushed his ear as you told him your deepest want right then, "Inside. I want you inside me. Please, Rafayel. I want to feel all of you. Fill me up." 

He groaned, a pained sound before driving into you in earnest, "I am gonna come. I cant- I can't hold on much more." 

Your walls fluttered at the needy sound of his voice. Your Rafayel. Your beautiful Rafayel. He was so like the ocean, so many faucets to his personality. He could be calm loving one moment then demanding and passionate and then needy the next. You loved him. You loved all of him and he was all yours. 

"I'm coming too, baby. Let go" you implored him, "I want it. I am yours and you are mine. Forever. I want all of you. Give it to me." 

With a few more slams of his cock into your depths, you felt the moment he lost control of it. His forehead pressed to yours, noses brushing, as he let out a long moan of pleasure mixed with your name. His shaft pulsed as rope after rope of hot cum filled your womb. His blissed out face, the grind of his pelvis into your clit, the twitching of his cock as he came inside, and the warmth that flooded your inner most parts triggered your orgasm. 

"F-fuck!" He hissed out, blissfully as your walls milked him further. His thrust slowed until it was just a slow drag. His breath, panted by your ear. He peppered your neck and shoulder with kisses, before pulling back to press his lips lovingly against yours. When he pulled away, you noticed his eyes were nearly glowing blue as the Mediterranean sea, a spackling of blue iridescent scales freckled down his throat to his chest.  

Your fingertips followed the trail as his hips finally rested, fully seat against yours, spent, but refusing to leave your warmth. You could feel the hot mix of both of your fluids spilling out around where his now soft member still rested within your walls. Your eyes flicked up to his, watching you full of love. Your gut twisted in guilt, remembering what got you here. "I am sorry I ran out. I was so angry. I so angry, and it hurt to be so angry at you. I felt overwhelmed. I just... I needed space. To breathe. To calm down so I could think." 

He tutted, fingers combing some of your messy hair from your face. "Hush now, my bride. It is okay now. You came back to me. We are together. We are one now. That is all that matters." His eyes trailed your face before a sheepish look fell over his expression, "Besides, it was my fault you got overwhelmed. I kept pushing and pushing even when you said you needed to think. I was terrified that I was losing you so I couldn't bring myself to give you a moment." His eyes met yours, "I am sorry." 

You hummed, "Still I shouldn't have ran from you. I know about our pasts and I know that me leaving is something you fear. It was cruel of me," your heart lunched at the flicker of pain in his gaze. 

"Very well, though, I must admit I feel guilty for making you feel like what happened in those past lives is your responsibility. They both were and were not you. That's not your burden to carry." 

It was your turn to tsk, "I love you. Your burdens are my burdens. It's you and me, forever, Rafayel. You don't have to carry everything alone. Not anymore. Never again." 

His eyes went soft, as he dipped his head to press a kiss to your lips, "Whatever you say, my bride." 

You nuzzled into his palm cupping your cheek, "I do say. How about we both agree we are both idiots in love and leave it at that?" 

His chuckling at that shook you slightly. As your bodies were still pressed together, it shifted his shaft slightly inside of you. You realized that it was not all that soft anymore, and that he never left your heat. Your breath caught in your throat. Your walls fluttered around him. 

He hissed, head snapping up to meet your gaze. His eyes mischievous, "You want more of your Fishy husband, hm?" His hips gently pulsed, in and out of your heat slowly, testing the waters, a smirk stretching his mouth as you gasped from pleasure. 

Your eyes widen at his words. He had been calling you his bride. And now calling himself your husband. 

Seeing your look, he stilled and became worried, brows furrowing slightly. A blush spread across his cheeks and down his chest as his face becomes more pouty than the heat it held before, "I did say that to Lemurians this was essentially more binding than any silly human marriage." 

"You didn't say it quite like that!" You reeled dazed, your mind racing. 

His face crumpled before he smoothed his expression to one of more indifference. He plucked a shoulder in a shrug and rolled off of you, making you hiss as he slid out of you for the first time since you joined. 

He flopped onto his back a short distance away, "I apologize. I guess I should've been more clear. It's okay though. You won't feel the effects. We can pretend we didn't-" he gasped as you appeared over him and on him, having thrown your leg over his hip. You pressed him to the bed with a hand to his chest, your legs caging his hips between your thighs. "Nnngh," he groaned as you lowered your hips to sit over his pelvis, his once again harden length pressed between your nether lips, soaked in both of your juices from before. He had to fight not to roll his hips up into you, but settled for gripping your hips firmly. 

You sighed, hands moving, fingers dancing across the pale skin of his chest, from freckle to scale. "I never said I didn't want it." 

He stilled, eyes studying you intently. Holding his breath even. 

"I do want it. Want you. I told you, Rafayel, it's you and me. Forever." 

His grip lightened. His thumbs brushed tenderly across your skin. 

Your eyes sought out his, warm and tender. "So, husband," you grinned as his breath caught in his throat. "How do Lemurians enjoy their honeymoon?" You swiveled your hips to drag your wet heat along his now very hard again shaft. 

He gripped your hips, smirk nearly feral, "Let me show you, my Bride." 

[katyawriteswhump]

scent of a (soul)mate 💖🍌💖

Rating: M; WC: 2722; CW: none; Tags: O!Steve, A!Eddie, fluff, scentmates, scenting, rejection sickness, mild hurt/comfort, snuggling and cuddling, matchmaking. For @stmarchmm day 10 prompt, ‘rejection sickness’ and day 11 prompt, ‘scenting,’ and @steddiebingo fill, ‘fruit.’ Summary: O!Steve has been dumped by Tommy and Carol, and is suffering from major rejection sickness. A!Eddie reluctantly rocks up to provide ‘platonic’ healing snuggles… Read on Ao3

🍌💖🍌💖🍌💖🍌💖🍌💖🍌

“Let me get this straight.” Eddie discarded his notes and glared across the trailer at Gareth. “You want me to pause creating the most metal campaign in the history of D and D… and go snuggle the third most obnoxious student who ever doomed the halls of Hawkins High? Because he’s been dumped by the only two dickwads who were more obnoxious?”

“He’s not so bad,” mumbled Gareth, hilariously squirmy. “We’re friends now. Henderson adores him. It’s not like Steve was ever around when Tommy and Carol were slamming me up against the lockers.”

Eddie grinded his teeth at the memory. “No shit. Protecting you was my job.”

“That’s my point! You’re the best at looking out for Omegas. Without being threatening or trying to get in their panties.”

“You calling me unthreatening?” Eddie poked his tongue and clawed the air, grizzly-style.

“You’re terrifying, Eddie. Just… hear me out, okay?”

Eddie indulged his friend, as ever, and most of Steve’s history, he knew. Steve had been joined at the hips with Tommy and Carole since Middle School. When Steve presented Omega, and the other two presented Alpha, nothing changed.

Apart from that Eddie avoided Steve like a plague of frat-boy zombies, and not only because the Omega was a total brat.

Eddie got within ten yards of Harrington he was pretty much drooling. The Omega’s scent—not to mention that dumb preppy hair and those pretty eyes—drove him loopy, and there was no way he was making a fool of himself with Tommy and Carol’s bitch.

What Eddie didn’t know was that, since they’d graduated, Steve’s Alphas had been treating him like a toy they’d grown bored of.

A month ago, they’d cut him completely.

When his parents refused to cut short a business trip to care for him, isolation sickness had aggravated rejection sickness. In the end, Steve had been too poorly to come to the door. Robin Buckley got Chief Hopper around to break into the Harrington’s house and take Steve to the hospital.

Yeah, it was all deeply tragic.

As were Gareth’s huge, woeful eyes and his melodramatic telling of the tale, which rivalled Eddie’s best Dungeon Master act. Boo-hoo, poor little rich kid, cue the wailing violins.

Half an hour later, Eddie was at the store trying to figure out what gift to take to visit a sick and admittedly cute Omega who he didn’t actually like.

Oh, and getting weird looks from other shoppers for wandering around muttering to himself.

“No chocolates, no candy-ass flowers. Wroooong message, Munson. I mean, what are you doing getting a gift?” Truth was, some crazy Alpha instinct forced him to it, and fortunately inspiration struck. “Okay. Fruit. That’s what you take for sick Omegas when you have zero intention of jumping their bones… courting… whatever.”

He opted for a bunch of bananas and headed straight to Hopper’s place. The Chief took in waifs and strays of all designations, of which Steve was the latest. Eddie puffed out his cheeks, rolled on extra blockers, and got out of the van.

Instantly, he got a whiff of that insanely glorious… ahem, no, cloying caramelised-peaches-with-watermelon-and-vodka scent that used to drive him nuts at High School.  That’d had him trying to recreate it in a punch bowl for the past year and totally failing.

He should’ve run for the hills while he still had hope. Instead, finding the front door unlocked, he followed his nose and peeped in.

Steve was lying on the sofa bouncing a softball off the ceiling.

Okay, should Eddie knock? Cough? Say hi?

Too late.

Steve startled and tumbled off the couch, landing with a thud and a squeak.

“Shit!” Eddie rushed inside to help.

…

Steve slowly sat up then flopped his back against the side of the couch, head spinning.

What was Eddie Munson doing here? Why was he carrying a bunch of bananas—Steve’s favorite food—which smelled super-crazy levels of deliciousness?

“You okay?” Eddie dumped the fruit and crouched at Steve’s side, looking almost as spooked as Steve.

“Yeah,” panted Steve, hand over his still-racing heart. “Thought you were Hop. Figured he’d be mad I was playing ball inside.” To be fair, Steve’s jumpiness came from years of anticipating his father’s reactions. Hop would’ve forgiven him. Probably. “There’s nothing on TV and I’m bored out of my skull.”

“You always did love your ball-in-laundry-basket games,” said Eddie, with an only-slightly-derisive smirk.

Steve gave him a look, revving up to tell him he’d waaaaay rather have been playing his guitar. If he could’ve staggered far enough to fetch it from his room. Eddie got in first:

“I’m sorry. You’re cool. You happy on the floor, Sweetie, or you want a hand?”

Sweetie? Steve giggled and instantly forgave Eddie. That giant crush he’d had on the Alpha in senior year rushed back like it’d never left. “What d’ya reckon, shit-for-brains?”

A large Alpha hand hooked under his arm. Another found his hip, and he was carefully guided back onto the couch.

“What the heck are you doing here?” asked Steve, once nested back among his cushions and blankets. And still getting over the loss of that warm touch, which had sent shockingly pleasant shivers across his skin. “You looking for the Chief?”

“Nope.”

Eddie hovered a foot off and stared at him. Scarily intense. Steve faintly wondered why he wasn’t more scared about being alone, pretty much helpless, with a bad-boy Alpha, then dabbed his lips. Shit, maybe Eddie was staring because he had something gross on his face.

“Look, I’m gonna level with you, Harrington—”

“Steve,” squeaked Steve.

A smile twitched on the corner of Eddie’s lush lips, and… Wow, Steve hadn’t had much appetite for weeks and suddenly he was soooo hungry. Must be those bananas Eddie had brought with him, which Steve slid his attention to.

The aroma was incredible. There was a ton of muted scents drifting around this house, but right now… Nope, Steve only smelled banana, and it was the deepest, richest, creamiest banana he’d ever experienced, with dark salty undertones.

Wow.

“Gareth said you’d been struggling,” Eddie said, “and that the doctors pretty much prescribed platonic bodily contact with Alphas. So, yeah, not gonna push this or anything, but—

“I’m gonna kill him,” muttered Steve, facepalming. “Look, I appreciate it, um… Can I call you Eddie?”

“Sure.”

“Eddie, I’m on the mend. I’m past the so-sick-I-wanna-die stage—” and the humiliating can’t-stop-crying stage—“and to be ‘platonic’ I think you have to be friends. I know you hated my guts in High School. You don’t have to do this.”

“I never hated you,” said Eddie. “I hated your ex-Alphas. Gareth and Dustin say you’re a good dude. I trust them, and that makes us friends of friends, so… you want snuggles or not? It’s totally up to you.”

Steve peeped at Eddie from between his fingers, and somehow, he couldn’t lie: “I’d like snuggles.”

Eddie relaxed into yet another grin, this one deliciously wolfish: “Okay, Steve. You call the shots. How do you wanna do this?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

It was true. His parents didn’t believe in hugs, let alone snuggles. Carol and Tommy had only ever petted him after sex. He’d snuggled with Hop’s younger foster pups lately in the family nest, which had helped him start to heal.

He’d never had one-on-one snuggles with an Alpha before. Even platonic ones.

And now he was trembling like an idiot.

Eddie perched on the edge of the couch. “Nothing to worry about, Sweetie. We can take this slow, or I can leave, or—"

“No.” Steve grabbed Eddie’s wrist, and the strength of his grip shocked him. “I said I want snuggles. Please, Alpha.”

The awkwardness and furtive glances lasted only a few seconds. Then Eddie scooped Steve against his hip and enfolded both arms around him. Steve nestled his cheek on Eddie’s chest, and one of his own hands crept across to clasp Eddie’s shoulder. One of his knees notched itself up into Eddie’s lap, and he melted into Eddie as if they were born to fit together this way.

A caressing warmth literally seeped from the Alpha. Damn. He’d wasted nineteen years… without this?

“You okay, Steve?”

“Mmmmmm,” sighed Steve, as a wave of pure contentment washed over him. He wanted to sink into those hints of herby Alpha musk—into Eddie—like a hot bath. Okay, Eddie’s scent wasn’t quite as distracting as the bananas, which was a shame, but he wasn’t gonna complain. He was losing himself in a happy doze, when Eddie’s fingers started up gentle brushes on his hair, smoothing it behind his ear, then drifting to toy at his nape.

Steve no longer wanted to sleep. Eddie’s hand on his back was like warm oozing honey and Steve didn’t want to miss a thing. He burrowed so deep his nose was in danger of disappearing into Eddie’s armpit. It was clear Eddie was wearing blockers, which was a bummer. Eddie’s natural scent was complex, and Steve wanted to inhale as much as he could, as if to map it on his senses for a lonelier day. After all, the banana smell was out of this world, but it was Eddie he fancied.

Ooops! No, this is platonic. Keep those thoughts platonic, Harrington!

Eddie, meanwhile, was pretty chill. He chattered a bit, about D and D, and music, and all of it was actually pretty interesting. And he was so nice. Even though, one time Steve peeped up, Eddie was grimacing.

Spying Steve, he winked and grinned, and Steve decided not to ruin things by getting too anxious. Maybe Eddie was constipated or something.

That helpful thought didn’t dampen his attraction to Eddie for long. After a few more minutes snuggling, Steve wanted to purr his heart out. He managed to rein it in and then he was having thoughts that were so un-platonic that he bit his lip to the point of pain. Shit, if he got slick, or started to perfume, would Eddie get mad?

Think of something else, Harrington. Not about how hot he is, or how you used to fantasize about him fucking your brains out, when you were still with your exes. Oh my God, I’m gonna get slick! I’m gonna leak everywhere!

He tuned into the one thing that distracted him. The crazily potent scent of those bananas.

He imagined that firm stick of yumminess sliding between his lips, rolling his tongue around it. His stomach growled for it. Steve almost purred for it. And, fast-as-fucking-lightning, some primal need shoved aside all his skittishness and, apparently, his common-sense.

He sat bolt upright and fixed pleadingly on Eddie’s eyes. “I’m soooo hungry. Please, Alpha, can I have a banana?”

Eddie hooted. “Almost forgot I brought them.”

He reached to snap one from the bunch. As they sat side-by-side, he handed it to Steve. Steve pouted. If Eddie had chosen to feed it to him, who would he have been to argue?

With unsteady hands, Steve unpeeled the banana, then slid his lips over its rounded head. It tasted… okay. Kind of bland. Not as earthshattering as he’d expected. Maybe he needed more?

He shoved half the banana into his mouth, bit it off. And choked.

“Hey, take it easy,” said Eddie, rubbing between Steve’s shoulder blades.

Having gulped the thing down, Steve was not in the mood to ‘take it easy.’ He was so damn confused, and cranky that he’d not gotten what he craved, and if what he craved wasn’t that dumb banana, then it had to be…

His nose was at Eddie’s neck before he could stop himself, scenting then licking, and… Ooookay, the blockers and being unwell had thrown him. No banana could send him loopy like this. If his spinning head was sure of one thing, it was that irresistible smell was definitely Eddie. Who now cupped the rear of Steve’s neck—no real pressure, simply holding him in place with a devastating, featherlight touch.

“Sweetie, you okay there?”

No… or maybe, yes. Slick trickled in Steve’s panties, and he jerked his chin up: “Will you kiss me?”

Eddie blinked. Then he licked his lips. That grin Steve was growing obsessed with spread slowly, bunching his cheeks into delicious dimples.

“Hop’s gonna kill me,” murmured Eddie, then, narrowing his eyes, “Look, gonna level with you. Again. Snuggling you has given me one helluva boner. I tried to think about other things, keep it cool today, but… Don’t think my feelings for you are ever gonna be platonic.”

Steve’s pheromone-drenched Omega brain took a moment to process this, and he was incapable of being anything but blunt. “Do you believe in scent-mates, Eddie?”

“Okay, comin’ clean.” Eddie’s hands moved up to cup Steve’s face. “Been obsessed with your teasing lil’ perfume, since you presented in junior year. Let’s find out, huh?”

Steve scrambled into Eddie’s lap for real, flung his arms around his neck, and all-but crushed the Alpha to him. Nope, he couldn’t have done that half an hour ago, while he was lying here feeling exhausted and generally like shit.

Eddie kissed Steve like he’d never been kissed—thoroughly and possessively, and dammit, adoringly. That bland banana taste was gone in an flash. No blockers worked for kissing, and Eddie’s true taste flooded him. It was herby with bitter notes, all doused in that multithreaded sweetness Steve had been going wild for. That rich, creamy banana was a major, major strand of Eddie’s musk, in a heady, kicky Alpha kinda way.

No wonder Steve always liked that damn fruit. He only loved the taste of Eddie, which he literally got high on. He scrubbed his tongue against Eddie’s and did his best to give as good a kiss as he got.

Eddie was for sure Steve’s scent-mate, and he was Eddie’s. After a few more minutes of kissing, and a little more snuggling and scenting, Eddie confirmed that he one-billion percent agreed.

…

A month later, Gareth finally showed his face around Eddie again.

After a whirlwind courtship, he and Steve were moving into a cosy log cabin in the woods. Eddie was wheeling out Steve’s basketball hoop, and Steve was fetching their guitars from the van. Turned out, for the one hobby they didn’t share, there was plenty they did. Steve had even had to fill in for Gareth at D and D, after the other Omega mysteriously vanished to stay with an aunt, without even finding out if Eddie was mad or not.

Eddie growled, glancing between the two Omegas. “You wanna kill him, Steve, or am I gonna do it?”

“Don’t be a dick, Eddie,” said Steve. “He brought us together. He fixed my rejection sickness.”

He fixed us both, and I didn’t know I needed to be fixed. He sure helped make me a very happy Alpha.

“Look, I know it was a bit of a gamble,” said Gareth, twisting his hands. “I’ve had my suspicions, right from when you used to lay into Carol and Tommy for me. You said more than once that you always wanted to hit ’em harder. Something always pulled you back, some faint scent, even though those two repelled you. And then, I got to know Steve too, and Chrissy did a tarot reading that said you were fated. Even Robin said she had a hunch, and what with Steve being sick for so long… We played tic-tac-toe. I lost so I had to be matchmaker. I mean, it has worked out, and… You’re not gonna kill me, right?”

“No promises, Gareth,” said Eddie. “I mean, what took you? Why didn’t you bash our heads together months ago? And how could you run out halfway through my most totally metal campaign?”

“So, we’re good or not?”

“Jesus, Gareth, how many times?” bitched Steve, as Eddie beamed toothily between them both. “He’s being a dick! Hey, you wanna be my flower-Omega at our wedding next month?”

Gareth hung around for a beer and to help them finish moving in. When he hung around after that, Eddie gave him his very best platonic hug.

The type he could never give Steve Harrington.

“Now scram,” he growled, once he let Gareth go. “Thanks to you, I totally need to carry my future bride over the threshold.”

🍌💖🍌💖🍌💖🍌💖

Thank you for reading 💖 You can find my other steddie omegaverse fic on Ao3 here 💖

[spidergutz-writes]

Time to get slutty, bestie..

I’m a whore for Michael getting mad when Reader gets embarrassed about hiding their sounds while fucking. I love it when he gets extra rough bc of it. 😩

Anything to do this this and breeding kink (without the kids LMAO) PLEASE AND THANK YOU 🙏

YOUR FR BLESSING ME WITH IDEAS 😩😩😩

bestie it’s cool we’re all whores for him !

(I try to keep this as gn as possible if I fuck up im sorry ;v;)

I’m doing HC’S for this cause it’s late and ya gal is eepy

WARNINGS: smut. Obviously. Being dicked down by a hot man (Michael Myers) NO BETA /PROOFREAD WE DIE LIKE REAL MEN

Michael is extremely attentive, so you’d be a fool to think he’d let your silence last.

only he’s allowed to be silent, but you? God no he just

your silence is a challenge to him, and he’s going to break you for it

it only takes a moment before he’s snaking his hand up to your throat, and squeezing. Not enough to really hurt or kill, but merely just a warning 👀

man’s already pounding into you, sloppy sounds of skin on skin filling the room, but it’s gets all the more vulgar when he grabs your legs with his remaining free hand, and pushes them up onto his shoulders, and absolutely FOLDING you into a mating press.

his own grunts get a little louder, and if you really focus (you can’t) you’d be able to hear him groan and moan a little.

this intense position, his fast pace, and the hand squeezing your throat finally has you making noise, and I could bet you could just feel his sly smirk

Michael was unknowingly a man of pride, and finally hearing you moan and cry out his name? Has him so hard it fuckin hurts

the sudden rush of just everything has micheal going erratic, his breathing heavier, his pace inhumane, and the hand that was once on your throat, is now pushing your legs back a little more, the mating press he had you in was just the cherry on the top.

when your own orgasm finally washes over you, it takes a good couple (twenty) more thrusts for him to cum

ISTG THAT MAN HAS SUCH GOOD STAMINA HUFUFUFUFUF. ~~~~~~~ heavy breathing and panting fills the room, and as Michael finally pulls out, his cum slowly dribbles out of you, but he wastes no time in fingering it straight back into you, his eyes a dark steel grey, bordering on black. he hums, and leans back to admire his work on you. The bruises already forming on your neck from his intense hold has your thighs clenching. ~~~~~~

HEY WOAH IM SORRY I KNOW YOU REQUESTED THIS LAST NIGHT I FELL ASLEEP ;0; YA GAL WAS EEPY ✌️✌️✌️

anyways, as always, give me constructive criticism!!! I can’t grow as a writer without knowing my mistakes!!

(Please give me more requests tho I’ll frfrfr kiss you, I’ll give you a smooch.)

[fushipurro]

Sweetness and Stripes

Masterlist

☆ Content: 18+ MDNI, f!reader, tigerhybrid!sukuna, AU - no curses, slight angst, possessive sukuna, the drabble is where the NSFW is at, but after one of the dividers is where the headcanons become suggestive, biting, cockwarming, p in v, creampie

☆ Notes: tigers are my favorite animal and sukuna is my favorite man and WOW what a combo they make. had a lot of fun though coming up with ideas to this and for once, the drabble portion came easy to me (easy when i too want to be claimed by sukuna).

☆ TigerHybrid!Sukuna who goes into a rage when his old servant as he calls them decides they want him out of their home for good this time. So what he had attacked his other roommates? It's their fault; they should've known better to touch Sukuna's property or try and take over his favorite sunning throne. He's never been one to get along with others except for his nephew Yuji or his only friend ─ a harpy hybrid named Uraume.

☆ TigerHybrid!Sukuna who is drawn in like catnip by the sweet smell that clings to you one fateful day. You don't bat an eye at his imposing form, and after only one conversation, you invite him to be your new roommate. Naive is what he calls you ─ a fool. Don't you know how dangerous he is, or can be? That said, Sukuna doesn't plan on turning down your offer. Not if it means a new kingdom to conquer.

☆ TigerHybrid!Sukuna who slowly comes around to living with you. You've shown that you're a much better servant to him ─ always treating him to luxury meals and with a smile that's better than any dessert. Unlike his old home, he's alone here and without any pesky housemates to get in the way. He could get used to this lavish treatment.

☆ TigerHybrid!Sukuna who loves the way you comb your fingers through his hair, making sure his ears and tail are extra soft and shiny. He revels in the days you have off from work meaning more time to lounge around with him on the couch, watching whatever horror films he puts on. The whole time, he has his head on your lap, allowing you the chance to touch him as you wish. If you're outside, Sukuna loves to drag you into his pool to play and later nuzzles his way into your neck as the sun dries you both off.

☆ TigerHybrid!Sukuna who fully accepts how touchy he's become, going so far as to pin you down with his full weight every night in bed. You've never once complained about sharing with him ─ even in this small home ─ and he's glad because your scent is simply too irresistible to pass up. "So sweet," he'll murmur into your skin as he makes himself comfortable. The same can be said of you whenever you're occupying his sweatshirts.

☆ TigerHybrid!Sukuna who wants nothing more now than to claim you as his mate. It's only right given how well you treat him ─ like he's the king of the world. And what better way to return the favor than by making you his queen?

☆ TigerHybrid!Sukuna who becomes brazen with his touches, even nibbling at your neck between kitten licks. Oh, how happy it makes him that you don't even try to paw him away. No, instead you giggle, and it's like angels are singing in his ears. Sukuna loves it when you're home and at his side, so much so that you've heard his lonely growls through the door before returning, only for him to be chuffing and purring, embracing you moments later with complaints about how you need to quit your job already. "I can take care of us both, you know that, right?"

☆ TigerHybrid!Sukuna who throws a fit when you come home one day, dirtied with the stench of other dangerous hybrids. Don't you know that you're his? Sukuna's scent being all over you should be a warning enough to other suitors to back off from his mate. It doesn't matter to him that your career centers around helping others; he's the only one you should worry over.

☆ TigerHybrid!Sukuna who circles you the next time it happens like a normal tiger would, growling all kinds of curses. His tail swishes angrily from side to side, ears pointed flat like an airplane. How dare your work keep getting in the way of your time with him, covering your sweet smell up with the odors of other wretched beings. You end up sitting down ─ a subtle submission that makes him soften. You go on to tell him such kind, gentle words like you always do to calm him down.

He doesn't stray far from your side that night.

☆ TigerHybrid!Sukuna who sees red when he overhears you on the phone, talking about moving Sukuna somewhere else. Was everything you told him earlier simply a lie? You ─ his own mate ─ dares to be rid of him like his other servants? He won't let it happen again.

☆ TigerHybrid!Sukuna who after confronting you quickly finds out the truth ─ that you had been thinking of moving Sukuna just so you wouldn't have to worry about the construction crew that's coming to expand his kingdom here with you. You want your house to feel like a home to Sukuna, one where he has all the space needed for his permanent residency. That way, if he ever brings Yuji or Uraume over, he can do so without fear of it being too cramped.

☆ TigerHybrid!Sukuna who finally claims you as his beloved queen that very night.

It's a night like any other, with you sprawled out on the bed, Sukuna caging you against his especially warm body. Only this time, your clothes are nothing but shreds on the floor, and your tiger is still buried deep in your oh so sweet cunt ─ one of the many praises he's given you so far.

His breath is heavy against your neck, lips kissing along all the freshly bloomed marks; evidence of his claim of you. His arms are wrapped tightly around your waist offering a solace like nothing else. You can even feel him purring ever so quietly, with the seldom kneading of your flesh in sync to the rhythm of his heart.

After the confrontation, he swooped in with a kiss, eyes desperately looking into yours for approval. You gave it of course, how could you not? You've been pining for Sukuna since the day you found him abandoned by his old roommate. You chose to invite him home with you, not because of pity or attraction, but something more primal in your nature. A pure-hearted desire to help.

You knew right away he was a tiger hybrid given the ears and the obvious tail. Sukuna always embraced that side of him without fear, even adorning his skin with faux stripes made with the darkest of inks. His confidence and strength is admirable, and you've never felt more safe than at his side.

For you, it was love at first sight.

And now you know the same can be said for him, for how he feels for you.

"You're so good to me; I need you to be mine," he purrs, kissing you all along your neck as he pushes his way into you for the first time.

"S'kuna," you moan, raking your nails down his back from the aching stretch, giving him a fresh set of red-inked stripes, all of your own doing.

"That's it ─ keep saying my name with those beautiful lips of yours, my queen." His praise makes quick work of helping you achieve the first of many orgasms to come.

Sukuna's body stills, letting you ride out your high as you continue your song of his name. He leans forward, kissing you with a gentleness like no other, even with his tongue invading your mouth. The taste of you alone is enough to unravel him if he's not careful.

"I'm gonna fill you up every night if I have to," he growls, lifting your body up off the bed and into his body. He then starts chasing his own impending release, grunting into your flesh. "Gotta make it clear who you belong to; I don't want anyone so much as breathing in your direction when I'm done here."

He feels you clench him like a vice, making his motions more difficult, but all the more pleasurable.

"You like that, don't you?" he snickers, mocking you with that devilish smirk on his face. He licks a stripe up the back of your neck before biting down hard ─ drawing blood around his sharpened fangs.

You gasp, but the pain is easily masked by the feeling of his cock kissing your sweet, spongy spot over and over. Sounds of his growls, your moans, and all the wetness in between is all that can be heard as he spills out inside you, coating your walls in alabaster ink.

"That's my queen, so good for me." Sukuna can't help the whimpering noise that escapes his lips. Nothing in this world can compare to what you do to him. After all...

"This sweet pussy was made for me, and only me."

"What are you thinking about?" Sukuna's words draw you back to the now as he pushes himself impossibly closer. A low groan leaves you, making his tail twitch again with eagerness.

"You," you reply, turning your head enough to press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

He loves that.

Sukuna loves how much you put up with his antics, his temper, his everything, and still, you show him nothing but the sweetness in your soul. He loves the smile you're always showing him, even when you're begging him for more with drool spilling from the sides of your mouth. And most of all, he loves you.

"How'd I get so lucky finding you?"

"I should be the one saying that," you tease. Really, it was a chance meeting where the stars aligned perfectly. Like a red string pulling the two of you closer. "If it weren't for my work sending me to the wrong address, we might not have ever met."

That thought makes you sink deeper into his touch.

"Ugh, don't remind me," he sighs, tightening his hold possessively around you. "You should really quit that place already. What more do you need than me?"

You chuckle at his words and his disdain for your occupation. Sukuna likes to believe he would've found you at some point anyways ─ that sweet smell of yours forever luring him in. It's a miracle he got to you first, because now he'll be with you forever.

"You're not the only hybrid out there struggling to find a place or get the care they need," you tell him while drawing shapes on his arm. "But you're the only one who has my heart."

He rolls himself onto you, pushing you deeper into the pillows. His hands once again moving to ground him to your body. "Then I'll make sure the world knows, and every hybrid in it," he whispers into your ear. "You won't ever leave this house without the marks to prove it."

"Please." Your eyes flutter shut, feeling how hard he is again from within yourself. There's nothing you want more than this ─ more than Sukuna, your king, love, and everything in between.

"You're my mate ─ my queen," he says, delivering his ruling with a kiss to your lips, another bite to your neck. "In this life and every one after, my sweet love."

[sundarksposts]

'what a fool'

Author's note:

hello! i never thought i'd be writing again but here i am.

i would like to clarify, i'm used to writing angst so probably most of my stories are gonna be angst and underlining that this is just a story! also, i'm sorry if i'm not good at writing. this is my first time back after 7 years.

warnings: alcohol consumption, angst, swearing, make out (stuff), and i don't want to make harry the bad guy here but it's just a story!

Photos credit thanks to Pinterest.

i'm sorry if there are some mistakes because English is not my first language.

Part 2

btw, enjoy!

-----------------------------------

It was a sunny Tuesday afternoon. You were at the Sidemen Studios, where you had been working for almost a year.

You still couldn’t believe that you were part of one of the biggest YouTube groups in the world as their camerawoman. You had your parents to thank for putting you through film school and James, your best friend since college, for helping you land this job.

You and James were in the studio, chatting about the upcoming holiday trip with the entire staff and the boys.

"Are you excited for the trip?" James asked as he carefully packed his precious camera into his bag.

The two of you had just finished filming Sidecast with Simon, Harry, and Ethan. You weren’t scheduled to work today, but James messaged you, needing an extra hand since John couldn’t make it due to a family emergency.

"I’m so excited! This is my first work holiday trip, and I still can’t believe it!" you said, feeling giddy.

"I still can’t believe the boys have time for this trip. They’re so busy with their schedules, and I thought the trip was just for the staff” James said.

You glanced at the blonde boy sitting on the Sidecast set. He was talking with Simon and Ethan about something, but you couldn’t stop stealing glances at him.

"You’re drooling” James said in a low voice, chuckling. You quickly turned away from your gaze and rolled your eyes at him.

Nobody knew you had a crush on Harry except James. No one was supposed to know that you had a crush on your own boss, but you had to admit, it was hard to ignore your feelings when your boss looked that good.

"And you’re annoying” you huffed.

You had to stop this feeling before it got any deeper. You knew your place you were a nobody to Harry. Even though he knew you and the two of you always had playful banter, there was no way he would ever reciprocate your feelings.

James smiled before letting out a loud giggle. The boys stopped their conversation, now looking at the two camera staff with curious expressions.

"what's so funny, mate?" Ethan asked.

Great. Now all three of them had noticed.

You mentally slap your forehead before turning to the three Sidemen.

“Nothing, nothing! Just having a conversation with Y/N” James quickly answered, brushing off their curiosity.

Harry raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

“Have you guys packed yet?” Simon asked, snapping you out of your thoughts though your eyes still lingered on Harry.

The set lights are still on, and you still can’t get over his features his sparkly blue eyes, his toned build, even though he’s hidden beneath his blue Sidemen hoodie, and his pink lips.

I wonder if he’s ever washed that hoodie? you mused to yourself, noticing he’s been wearing it for days now.

"Yeah, yeah, we’ve packed, but Y/N here still has some things left to sort out” James answered.

You quickly snapped out of your daydream at the mention of your name. “Uhhh, y-yeah. There are still a few things I need to pack, but I’ll be fine” you replied.

Ethan and Simon shouted, “Nice!” before diving back into their conversation.

Meanwhile, Harry lingered for a moment, glancing between you and James before eventually returning to the discussion.

"fucking hell" you muttered while James just quietly giggled.

--------------------------------

It was the morning of your trip, and you were waiting for James to pick you up from your apartment. You double-checked everything, making sure you had packed everything you needed for Greece.

It was going to be a sunny holiday, so you made sure to bring plenty of sunscreen, moisturizer, and lip balm you didn’t want to dry out while you were there.

After zipping up your suitcase one last time, you heard the doorbell ring. That’s gotta be James, you thought as you walked to the front door.

James appeared in your line of sight and… Harry?

You froze, completely taken aback. What is Harry doing at my apartment?

“Hey, sorry we’re a bit late” James said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Someone texted me last minute, asking for a ride to the airport while I was already on my way here” He glanced at the blonde haired guy beside him.

"Wha—wha—wha—what do you mean?!” Harry sputtered, looking at James, clearly annoyed. “I told you last night I needed a ride! I can’t drive, and getting an Uber or taxi to the airport would’ve been a hassle!”

You giggled at the two of them bickering as you grabbed your suitcase and slung your camera bag over your shoulder.

“It’s fine” you said, dragging your suitcase along. “It’s not like we’re gonna be late to the airport anyway. Plus, I was just double checking to make sure I didn’t forget anything” You quickly patted your pockets, confirming you had your passport.

James rolled his eyes, fully aware of your crush on Harry. Meanwhile, Harry flashed you a smile, the cutest one you’d ever seen, and you had to admit, it made your heart skip a beat.

“See? Y/N doesn’t mind! No need to fuss” Harry said, grinning. “Do you need help with your suitcase?”

You nodded, thanking him. What a gentleman, you thought.

James rolled his eyes again but chose not to say anything. He couldn’t believe you had bought Harry’s excuse so easily.

Honestly, why had Harry even asked him for a ride? He could’ve easily gotten a lift from Tobi or Simon, or Ethan, let’s be real, he could more than afford an Uber.

James liked Harry as a friend, but he didn’t want you getting your hopes up. He knew you too well, and the last thing he wanted was for you to think, even for a second, that maybe, just maybe, Harry liked you too.

The three of you walked to James’s car, loaded your suitcases into the trunk, and got in. You took the passenger seat in the front, while Harry settled in the back.

The ride to the airport was… interesting. That was the only way you could describe it. At one point, Harry asked a question so unexpected that it left both you and James in fits of laughter.

“Are you guys dating?” he blurted out.

You and James exchanged a look, then turned to Harry, then back to each other before bursting into uncontrollable laughter.

"No, boss. We’ve just been friends for a long time” you answered, using the nickname you always called the Sidemen.

Harry had told you before that he didn’t like it, but you kept using it anyway because you found it funny, and, deep down, you were pretty sure he secretly liked it too.

After an hour long drive, the three of you finally arrived at Heathrow Airport, where the rest of the group was waiting at the meeting point. Josh had already been asking about you guys, wondering why you were late.

Seeing the flood of messages in the group chat, you, James, and Harry broke into a run, weaving through the crowds.

When you finally reached the meeting point, you spotted the boys, the camera crew, and a whole bunch of other people.

Your eyes landed on Kirsty, and you made your way toward her to say hi. Meanwhile, Harry joined the boys, and James went over to Kon.

"Kirsty!” you called out, rushing over to hug her.

You and Kirsty had grown close quickly, both of you being photographers and often the only women on set made it easy to bond.

“Y/N! I missed you!” she said, hugging you back.

The two of you immediately started chatting about how excited you were for the trip. But before you could get too deep into the conversation, Ethan’s voice cut through the noise, addressing an unexpected guest.

“Where were you, Bog? We’ve all been waiting for you. I thought you were gonna ask me to head to the airport with you,” the ginger-haired man said, looking at Harry, who was busy tying his shoelaces.

"No, I didn’t want to burden you. I know how far it is from your place to mine, so I asked James for a ride, and we picked up Y/N along the way,” Harry explained.

The boys exchanged confused looks. This was unusual for him.

“So, was your prediction correct?” Simon asked, a teasing edge to his voice.

You frowned. What prediction?

You tried to focus on what Kirsty was saying, but multitasking was proving difficult.

“Nah, they’re just mates,” Harry replied casually.

Ah. So that’s why he was asking about my relationship with James.

You tried not to seem like you were eavesdropping, but curiosity got the better of you. Glancing over at Harry, you caught the subtle smirk on his lips as he said it.

That was weird, you thought.

After everyone had gathered, you all walked to the check-in counter and then to the boarding gate, waiting for your flight to be called.

You and James decided to grab some food, and before long, the boarding announcement came.

Everyone made their way to the plane, quickly found their seats, and soon, you were taking off, leaving behind gloomy London for sunny Greece.

On the plane, you thanked Josh for giving you a window seat. He had asked everyone on the crew about their seating preferences, and he made sure to accommodate them.

To ease your nerves about flying, you and James ordered some alcohol, hoping to relax a bit before landing.

"Wish we could do this every day,” you said, sipping your drink.

“We do this every day, just without the drinking at work,” James chuckled.

You giggled at his remark.

While James was scrolling through the in-flight entertainment, you noticed Harry making his way to the toilet.

You gave him a small wave, and he returned it with a subtle nod. That tiny interaction was enough to send butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Four hours later, the Sidemen and the production crew finally arrived in Greece.

The sun, the ocean, and the beach were already calling your name, and you couldn’t contain your excitement, you were finally on a well deserved break.

All of you had arrived at the villa, and you couldn’t stop admiring the breathtaking scenery.

Ever since you left the airport, you’d been taking nonstop videos and pictures, eager to capture every moment.

While Josh spoke with the villa owner, you noticed Harry standing in the lobby, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone.

An idea popped into your head taking a candid picture of him. It won’t hurt, right? No one’s going to see it anyway.

You discreetly snapped the photo, and to your surprise, it turned out great. Smiling to yourself, you decided to keep it private.

“Okay, guys, gather around” Josh called out, explaining the room arrangements and today’s itinerary.

You learned that you’d be sharing a room with Kirsty, which made you even more excited for the trip.

After the small announcement ended, you walked over to Kirsty. “Are you sure you’re okay sharing with me? I know you’d probably prefer to share with Kon,” you said, watching as Kirsty snapped pictures of the boys for future reference.

“God, no! I’d much rather share with you than Kon,” she laughed. “He snores in his sleep, and I actually want to get some rest on this vacation. I need some me time.”

You felt relieved knowing you had someone to keep you company other than James.

As the two of you made your way to your assigned room, you started unpacking while chatting about random things just classic girl talk. It was nice to have a girl friend in this kind of situation.

Out of nowhere, Kirsty smirked. “So, do you have a boyfriend?” You chuckled at the unexpected question. ‘Why is everyone asking me that today?’ you thought, shaking your head.

“I haven’t found the one, and honestly, I’m too busy as it is. Being in a relationship would just be a headache,” you said as you changed into fresh clothes after your shower.

Kirsty nodded in understanding. “I feel you. It’s hard to date someone outside of our work unless you’re working with them.”

You agreed with her.

As the day went by, everyone got ready for dinner. You took tons of pictures of your food, the restaurant, and your co-workers for yours and the Sidemen Instagram.

After dinner, Tobi mentioned that some of them were heading to a club and asked if you wanted to join. You said yes, and now, you were all on your way.

You couldn’t wait to have a few drinks and dance to the music. Spotting Harry, you smiled at him, and he returned the gesture. “Are you ready to go?” he asked, adjusting the sleeves of his Childish hoodie.

God, he can even pull off a hoodie, you thought, nodding. “I rarely get a chance to go out back home, so this should be fun,” you said.

The two of you kept talking, laughing easily as the conversation flowed. Harry’s gaze lingered on you.

Your blue floral sundress, your wavy hair, the way your red lipstick stood out under the soft lighting. He smiled, and you felt heat rush to your cheeks. You could feel him staring.

By the time you arrived at the club, you were already feeling a little buzzed, whether from the alcohol at dinner or from talking with the blue-eyed boy, you weren’t sure.

Without a word, Harry took your hand, guiding you through the crowded venue toward the table. His touch was warm, and for the first time, you realized how much you liked it. You didn’t want him to let go.

And for a while, he didn’t.

"I’m going to order us a drink. What do you like?” Harry asked. “Vodka and Coke, please" He nodded before making his way to the bar.

As he walked away, you felt a pair of eyes on you, grinning like a Cheshire cat. You didn’t even have to look to know who it was. “He’s just being nice” you mouthed to James. He simply shrugged, sipping his drink and bobbing his head to the music.

A moment later, Harry returned with your drink, placing it in front of you. “You like vodka?” he asked, settling into the seat beside you. “Yeah, I do. But I like it with soda so it’s not too strong”

He nodded, taking a sip of his own drink. The conversation flowed easily as you both drank, the music pulsing around you.

"Sambuca’s here!” Simon yelled, handing out shots to everyone. You were given three. You didn’t like Sambuca, but for the culture? You had to.

Harry and you took the shots together, the strong taste making you wince. The warmth spread through your chest, and you could already feel the alcohol kicking in.

“You wanna go to the dance floor?” Harry asked, leaning in slightly so you could hear him over the music.

You nodded, and before you knew it, he was taking your hand again, leading you through the crowd.

The music was loud, the bass thumping in your chest as the two of you danced and sang along to whatever song was playing. He didn’t let go of your hand, not until you were facing each other in the middle of the dance floor.

Harry was awkward when it came to dancing, but with the alcohol running through his system, he seemed a little more confident.

The two of you were lost in the moment, just enjoying the night being young and carefree in another country.

You threw your arms around his shoulders, jumping up and down to the beat, and he chuckled at your antics, shaking his head but letting you do your thing.

After a few songs had played, the two of you returned to the table, taking sips of your drinks. You were thirsty after all that dancing.

“I didn’t know you could dance like that” Harry sniggered, amusement clear in his voice. You laughed, waving your hand dismissively. “I rarely go out. Please don’t judge me.”

Both of you chuckled before making your way back to the dance floor for round two.

This time, you spotted Simon, Josh, Tobi, and Ethan dancing together, clearly having a blast. As you and Harry approached, the four of them cheered.

“How are you enjoying tonight, Y/N?” Ethan asked, noticing you and Harry together.

He raised a curious brow, he hadn’t seen much of Harry tonight, and now, it was clear why.

A smirk tugged at his lips as he glanced between the two of you, teasing the youngest of the group.

Harry rolled his eyes.

“Oh, I’m loving it! Thank you for the opportunity, boss!” you yelled over the music, which was loud enough that you could barely hear yourself. Ethan laughed, nodding before turning back to the others.

You leaned toward Harry. “I’m going to the restroom for a bit." His fingers were still loosely wrapped around your hand. He nodded, letting go as you slipped away, while he made his way over to the boys.

You left for the toilet, but as you walked, you suddenly tripped and fell. A sharp pain shot through your ankle, and you groaned.

Great.

What a way to ruin a night out, you thought, wincing as you tried to stand. Slowly, you limped your way back to the table, hoping no one would notice.

As you arrived, you saw Josh, Harry, and Kon sitting together, drinks in hand. “Uh, boss, is it okay if I leave early? I just tripped, and my ankle kinda hurts” you asked Josh, who was just about to take a sip of his drink.

“Oh no! Are you okay?” he asked, concern evident in his voice.

“Do you want me to get James?” Kon offered, already looking around for him.

You quickly shook your head. “No, it’s fine. I can tell he’s enjoying his night. I’ll be fine going home alone.” Josh frowned.

“No. Someone needs to go with you.”

Before you could protest, Harry raised his hand. “I can go back with you” You immediately shook your head. “No, you don’t have to, Harry. Just enjoy your night”

But he was already finishing his drink. “No, we need to make sure you’re okay” he insisted, taking your hand.

You sighed but didn’t argue as you waved goodbye to Kon and Josh before letting Harry guide you out of the club.

On the ride back to the villa, you still felt tipsy, and you still couldn’t believe you had tripped. “How’s your ankle? And how did you even trip?” Harry asked, his voice laced with concern.

You giggled. “I tripped and fell. I think I’m drunk” you admitted, laughing at yourself.

Harry shook his head, chuckling.

When you arrived at the villa, the silence was almost eerie. The only sounds filling the air were distant crickets, making it clear that you two were the first ones back. Harry opened the front door and held it for you.

“Thanks” you murmured as you stepped inside.

Before you could take another step, Harry’s hand found your arm, steadying you as you wobbled slightly.

“Do you want me to take you to your room?” he asked. You shook your head. “The night’s still young. There’s some alcohol in the fridge. We could hang out in the living room” you suggested with a giggle.

Harry raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Alright, but only if you promise not to trip again” he teased, guiding you carefully to the couch.

You plopped onto the sofa while he disappeared into the kitchen. Moments later, he returned with two drinks, handing one to you before settling down beside you.

“Thanks” you said, taking a sip.

As the alcohol buzzed through your veins, you suddenly realized just how close he was. His arm draped casually around the back of the couch, fingertips barely brushing against your shoulder.

And for some reason, you didn’t mind one bit.

Your heart pounded so hard you were sure he could hear it. The air between you grew heavier, the faint buzz from the alcohol mixing with the tension in the room. You hated awkward silences, but this? This wasn’t just silence—it was charged, electric.

You didn’t even realize you had been staring at him until Harry smirked. “What are you thinking in that head of yours?” he teased, his voice low, amused.

Your eyes widened. Shit. Busted.

Your face burned as you quickly turned away. “Uh, n-n-nothing!” you stuttered, desperately hoping he’d drop it.

But he didn’t.

Instead, you felt a gentle touch on your chin, guiding your face back toward his. Your breath hitched as you found yourself staring into his piercing blue eyes, now just inches away from yours. “You know you can tell me, right?” he whispered, his gaze locked onto yours.

Your throat went dry.

Oh, you were in trouble.

Somehow, a sudden wave of courage washes over you. Your heart pounds, but for once, you don’t care. You forget that he’s your boss. You forget the risks, the consequences. Fuck it. You’re on holiday.

“I want to stay with you” you whisper, your voice barely audible. Harry freezes for a moment, as if making sure he heard you right.

Then, without hesitation, he kisses you.

The taste of alcohol lingers between you, but the kiss grows desperate, needy. His arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and heat floods through your body.

Without breaking the kiss, he lifts you effortlessly into his arms and carries you to his bedroom. The door clicks shut behind him.

He places you gently on the bed, hovering above you, his blue eyes searching yours.

“Tell me you want this” he murmurs.

You nod. “I do”

That’s all he needs to hear. His lips crash onto yours again, and soon, hands are exploring, breaths are mingling, and soft moans escape between kisses.

You trail your lips down his jaw and neck, and a deep groan rumbles from his throat.

The world outside fades away as you both get lost in the moment, tangled in sheets, until the first light of morning peeks through the curtains.

The soft chirping of birds filters through the open window, the morning sun casting a warm glow over the villa.

Beside you, Harry sleeps soundly, his arm draped over your waist, snoring softly. He’s snuggled into you, his breath warm against your skin.

You smile, your mind still reeling from last night. Did that really happen?

Carefully, you slip out of bed, making sure not to wake him. As you quietly gather your clothes and dress, reality begins to sink in.

I slept with Harry. I slept with my boss.

And as if on cue, a dull ache pulses from your ankle. Right. I was supposed to ice that… but how could I remember when I was too busy forking my boss?

Suppressing a groan, you tiptoe out of the room, shutting the door gently behind you. You make your way to your own room, pushing the door open to find Kirsty still fast asleep.

Sighing in relief, you quickly change into more comfortable clothes before grabbing your phone. The screen lights up.

30 missed calls from James

10 missed calls from Kirsty

7 missed calls from Josh and Kon

5 missed calls from Simon, Tobi and Ethan

Shit.

Everyone had been looking for you. The sheer number of missed calls on your phone made your stomach churn. You felt bad, really bad, but what were you supposed to say? Sorry, I was too busy sleeping with Harry? Yeah, not happening.

You groaned, throwing yourself onto the bed, hoping to catch a little more sleep before facing the inevitable interrogation.

But just as your body starts to relax, you hear a rustling from the other side of the room.

You freeze.

Maybe if you stayed perfectly still, she wouldn’t notice—

“Y/N?”

Shit.

Your heart pounds as you squeeze your eyes shut, pretending to be deep in sleep. You don’t move. You don’t even breathe too loudly.

Silence.

A few seconds pass, then a minute. You don’t hear anything else. Maybe she bought it. Maybe she went back to sleep.

You exhale slowly, relief washing over you. You were still exhausted, still sore, and the last thing you needed was Kirsty’s questions right now. But you needed an excuse. fast.

You did got enough of sleep and wake up at the same time as Kirsty. And she did asked you question of where you've been but you just said to her that you got lost and ended up somewhere far away.

As much as you were relieved that Kirsty didn’t push further, a part of you knew she didn’t fully believe you. But you were grateful she let it slide.

For now.

You focused on packing your things, trying to ignore the lingering thoughts of last night. The way Harry’s hands felt on you, the way he held you close.

You shook your head. Not the time.

Kirsty sighed as she zipped up her suitcase. “I can’t wait to just get home and sleep for a whole day”

You forced a small laugh. “Yeah, same”

But deep down, you weren’t sure you were ready to go back to reality just yet.

Both of you packed your things as you're already prepared to go home yet you feel heavy hearted. you don't want to return to your reality yet. you heard a knock on your door and yelled, "it's open" and revealed James who's been worrying sick.

"Where were you? We tried to called your phone but you didn't answer it" he yelled like a worried father.

You grabbed his hand and dragged him to the hallway and close the door so Kirsty won't hear both of you.

"I was with Harry. On his bed" you whispered. James let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair.

“Are you serious?” he whispered, eyes wide with disbelief.

You groaned, still hiding your face.

“Yes, James. I know, okay? You don’t have to freak out”

“Freak out?” he hissed, lowering his voice so Kirsty wouldn’t hear. “Y/N, you literally just slept with Harry. Your boss. One night in Greece, and you’re already moving mad.”

You peeked through your fingers, glaring at him. “I know! I don’t need a lecture right now" James sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “So what now? Was it just a one-time thing, or…?”

That question made your stomach twist. You wanted to say it was just a drunken mistake, a heat of the moment thing. But when you thought about the way Harry had looked at you, the way he had held you.

“I don’t know” you admitted softly. “But I don’t regret it”

James’ expression softened, but he still looked concerned.

“Look, I’m not judging you. I just, be careful. If the boys find out, especially Josh, things could get messy”

You nodded, knowing he was right.

“I just need to act normal.” James gave you a skeptical look. “And do you think Harry can act normal?”

That was the real question.

As you and James made your way downstairs, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of relief and anxiety. At least James knew now, and he wasn’t mad, just concerned. But the real challenge would be facing Harry and pretending like nothing happened.

The dining area was already bustling with the boys and crew, everyone chatting and eating. You spotted Harry sitting with Simon and Ethan, looking as relaxed as ever.

When his eyes met yours, there was a brief flicker of something in them, something only you would notice. But he quickly went back to his conversation like nothing had changed.

James nudged you slightly. “See? If he can act normal, so can you”

You took a deep breath and nodded, sitting down with James and the others. “Morning,” you greeted, trying to sound casual.

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” Ethan teased. “Where the hell did you disappear to last night?”

You laughed nervously. “Got lost on the way back. Had to call Harry to help me find the villa.” You could feel Harry glance at you, but he didn’t say a word.

Josh raised an eyebrow. “Lost? In Greece? Y/N, we were literally a few streets away from the club”

“Yeah, well, alcohol does that to you,” you shrugged, stuffing a bite of food in your mouth to avoid more questions.

Simon smirked. “You and Harry, alone in the middle of the night? That’s suspicious.”

Your stomach dropped, but before you could say anything, Harry rolled his eyes. “Relax, Minter. Not everything is a conspiracy.”

You let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. James leaned closer and whispered,

“You two are so obvious.” You kicked him under the table, making him yelp.

James, being the good friend he was, quickly changed the subject.

“Anyway! What’s the plan for today?” Josh sighed “We have a few hours before our flight, so we’re just chilling. Maybe a last walk by the beach if anyone’s up for it.”

You nodded, pretending to be focused on your breakfast, but you couldn’t help sneaking a glance at Harry. He hadn’t looked at you once, which was unusual. Was he regretting last night? Was this his way of pretending it never happened.

You focused on your food, chewing slowly as the conversations around you carried on. You could still feel Harry’s presence beside you, his phone acting as a shield between the two of you.

Why was he being like this? Last night, he was holding you close, whispering sweet things against your skin. Now, he couldn’t even look at you.

You sighed, pushing your plate away as you lost your appetite. Kirsty, who had just joined the table, noticed and nudged you. “Not hungry?” she asked.

“Just tired,” you lied, offering her a small smile.

After breakfast and free time, everyone gets ready to head to the airport. As James helps you walk, you spot Harry. You know you need to talk.

“Wait a minute, James. I won’t be long,” you say. He nods, sensing that you need to clear the tension with Harry. As you approach, Harry is still on his phone, busy with God knows what.

"I told James," you whisper to him. Harry looks at you, raising an eyebrow. “What did you tell him?”

Is he for real?

“About where we were last night. That we spent the night together… in your bed,” you murmur, lowering your voice so no one else can hear.

He looks puzzled. “But we didn’t do anything last night. I don’t remember anything—I was so pissed,” he says before turning and walking off.

You’re stunned.

You can’t believe what you just heard. It feels like you’ve been punched in the stomach. The ground beneath you might as well open up and swallow you whole.

Was he really that hammered that he didn’t remember anything?

James walks over to you and nudges your arm. “Well?” You shake your head, trying to blink away the tears welling up in your eyes. “He said he doesn’t remember,” you whisper, but James hears you loud and clear.

His expression shifts to shock, disbelief washing over his face. He clenches his jaw, fists tightening at his sides. For a moment, he looks like he wants to march over to Harry and punch him, but he knows that would only cost him his job.

James reaches out to comfort you, but you flinch away.

“I need some time alone” you mutter before limping toward the car, your ankle still aching from last night.

James watches you walk away, then turns his gaze toward Harry, who is laughing at a joke Ethan just made completely unaware of the damage he’s just caused.

Y/N feels embarrassed. Of course, he just thought it was a one-night stand. Who did she think she was? She was no one.

The entire ride to the airport, she sulks in silence, trying to hide her sadness and confusion. Was he really that embarrassed to admit he slept with her?

The journey home feels like hell. James stays by her side the entire time, offering quiet comfort as they sit together on the plane.

It isn’t until Y/N puts on a sappy romantic movie that the tears finally spill, her emotions too heavy to hold back any longer. James doesn’t say anything. He just lets her feel, lets her grieve whatever it was she thought she had.

Yet even with his support, she still feels like trash.

Oh, what a fool she had been.

--------------------------------------

Author's note: Oh my gosh! it's a long one. I'm sorry it's not good. Please let me know if you guys want part 2 because I already have some ideas for it. And i'm sorry I never wanted to let Harry to be the bad guy but again it's just a story.

i stayed up until 4am to continue to write, reviewing and finally posting this story.

i hope you guys loved this story!

Anyways, I love you guys and take care! x

[merakiui]

Omg bug darling x Jamil is such a good concept 😭

Him hitting in the dark, but even that’s not enough so hes go bang from behind but then his puts his dick in that tiny bug pussy and he’s crumpling the moment he’s inside.

It’s probably like the best nut of his life and then the light turn off, the sight of his cum oozing from a half bug half human has him absolutely horrified

Horny but horrified 😭

Darling is only further attatched to him and he’s like fuck fuck fuck fuck get off.

Omg... Jamil and accidentally getting bug babies. No matter how much he hates your bug features he can’t stop hitting 😭 (bug pussy so good he can’t stay away) meanwhile darling is over the moon that her favorite person is the father... Jamil has to think about the fact his children are now part bug!!! Anyways I love the way you wrote darling essentially following his every step it was so delicouss

-🎨📝 anon

BUG PUSSY IS DETRIMENTAL!!!!! OTL

It doesn’t help that you sound so human when he’s hitting it from the back. >_< soft, sweet moans and the slick squelch of your pussy,,, the way you grab at the sheets and drool over his pillow… it fools him just enough to get off. It really is a life-changing nut. T_T maybe he’s just been extra stressed, but it doesn’t even matter right now because he feels so boneless in the best way every time he spills his load inside you.

And then the lights flip on and you’re passed out on the bed, quite literally fucked into unconsciousness, twitching in the aftershocks of pleasure like he just smacked you with a shoe, and he’s immediately throwing himself off the bed. </3

Poor bug darling. :< your heart is so big and you love Jamil so much, always clinging to him or following him around with this expression :D 24/7. Everyone thinks you’re his girlfriend and no matter what he does he just can’t get rid of you, but then he’s not making it much better for himself once the lights are off. :) omg….. and the bug babies. Maybe bug darling struggled to find a mate who could actually fertilize her eggs and here’s Jamil, doing it on the first try LOL. You’re meant to be. Or at least that’s what you think.

Ooooo and maybe Jamil who feels just the tiniest sliver of envy when Kalim is cozying up to you and being so kind. If anything, he should be happy and relieved your attention is off of him for once. But then why does he feel so irritated watching you fawn over Kalim and the game he’s teaching you? >:/ hehehe Jamil who doesn’t want Kalim to take yet another thing away from him, which is strange because this is the case where he should be thrilled to have bug darling out of his hair once and for all. And yet. :)

Omg and Floyd and Ace who think you’re just so fun and interesting. It’s amusing to see the visceral shiver that runs up Jamil’s spine when he spots you in the bleachers. Floyd who’s willing to take you off Jamil’s hands when you’re all stuffed up with eggs. He can help you lay them. He knows a thing or two about that~ If you’re ever craving sweets, you’ve got to let Ace bring you back to Heartslabyul for an unbirthday party. And he can’t wait to show you off to Deuce. Jamil wants those two to keep their grubby hands away from you.

Two wolves inside Jamil: the one that’s addicted to bug pussy and secretly thrives on the attention (you look at him like he hung the stars) and the other that can’t get past his horror and repulsion for bugs. ^^;;;

[heirofshadowsingers]

A Timeless Melody - part two

Pairing: Gwynriel Rating: Mature Words: 6.8K Tags: friends to lovers, angst, fluff, romance, friends with benefits (not the usual kind... yet), healing, mutual pining, mates, basically idiots in love Chapter warnings: angsty, insecurities, brief mentions of past rape and violence, trauma, but there is a bit of fluff and cheese in there too “I’ve seen the way you look at each other. The way he looks at you.”  “And what way would that be?”  “Like you two can’t decide who is more smitten. Like he can't decide which part of you he’d like to taste first.”  “Emerie! That’s not true.”

Finally managed to write part two to my little silly Gwynriel fic. I'm still nervous to post and share my writing on here, but everyone has been so kind, so thank you! If you like it please don't hesitate to reach out, drop a little comment and share your thoughts. Thank you!

🤍 Read on ao3 here Or down below of you prefer tumblr

Gwyneth Berdara was a lot of things. A sister. A friend. Priestess. Researcher. Valkyrie. Carynthian. People described her as kind, hard-working, funny, caring and determined. If you asked her, though, she was none of those things. Unworthy. Scarred. Broken. Weak. Useless. Those were the words she’d use to describe herself. 

A failure. 

A coward. 

That’s what she was. 

And she was angry. 

Angry at the world and the hand it had dealt her. At the Mother for abandoning her in her time of need. At Hybern and his soldiers. At the general who took everything from her. At Briallyn and the Illyrians. 

Herself. 

For not being able to save her sister. For not fighting harder that cursed night. For not being stronger when the Illyrians kidnapped them and forced them into the Blood Rite. For not finding Nesta and Emerie sooner— failing to help them more. For being too weak to make it up the mountain on her own. 

For being so damned spineless and scared that she couldn’t even muster up the courage to attend her bestfriend’s mating ceremony. 

Add to that, she had made a complete fool out of herself in front of the Shadowsinger. 

And in her own failure to show up to support her chosen sister, she had pulled him away from the festivities as well. Made him feel too bad about leaving her alone and ultimately kept him from celebrating his own brother. 

He’d told her he didn’t mind— of course he did. He’d never admit the truth. He was too kind. Too responsible. Too honorable. Loyal. But she knew. Gwyn knew he had only stayed because he pitied her. Had only linked his pinky to hers because she was so pathetic. 

Which was why regret washed over her as soon as she woke up the next morning, an agonizing sense of guilt wrapping itself around her mind. And despite waking up in an unfamiliar location, with someone else sleeping next to her; Gwyn didn’t have room to panic. Even as a heavy hand rested on her thigh, its warmth burning through the thin fabric of her dress. 

Or maybe any panic was drowned out by the soothing scent of cedar and night chilled mist caressing all of her senses? Because she knew she was safe. 

Instead, she slowly blinked her eyes open, squinting to adjust to the brightness of the room. Even with her sleep-addled brain, last night's memories were already suffocating her. How he had held her as they danced. How his rough hands had felt sliding into hers and steadying her. How her shame had momentarily lifted under the soft depth of his hazel eyes. She’d wanted to drown in them and never surface again. 

And that – that scared her nearly as much as her worst nightmares. 

Azriel was still sleeping soundly next to her and Gwyn was determined to keep it that way. For she was not ready to face him yet. 

“You lock your pinkies together and it’s like an extra strong promise.” 

How utterly childish of her to ask of him. So stupid. This strong, notorious and powerful warrior– surely he had better things to do than make childish promises to her. She should’ve just gone back to bed in the dormitory instead of embarrassing herself further.  

No, no, she could not face him yet. How could she after making such a fool of herself? 

You’re a coward, a small voice taunted her in the back of her mind but Gwyn ignored it. 

Instead, she ran. 

And, by some sort of miracle, she managed to do so without waking him or his shadows. But not before casting one last glance behind her, taking in his sleeping form, and nearly stumbling over her own two feet at the sight. 

No one in their right mind could deny that Azriel was a beautiful male. Gwyn was not blind and ever since he had joined their training sessions—ever since she’d seen him again for the first time—she had been wholly enchanted by his beauty. How his muscles gleamed with sweat beneath the sun while demonstrating new exercises, every movement mindful and precise. His form completely flawless. 

No, she was not blind. 

But there was something in that moment that made her heart skip an extra beat. Never before had she seen him look so... so soft. 

His sharp jawline relaxed, gentle puffs falling past his open lips. Not a single wrinkle across his tanned skin. Long dark lashes resting delicately against his cheeks. 

He looked young. Comfortable. 

Cute. 

It wasn’t a word she’d ever used to describe him before. But seeing him in his sleep... Yeah, the famously intimidating shadowsinger of The Night Court looked cute. 

If she wasn’t so embarrassed she would’ve stayed and teased him about it. 

Azriel would never admit it outloud, but Gwyn knew he rarely slept. That he, similar to herself, struggled to find peace at night. So there was no way she would risk waking him, not when he was finally getting some rest. 

Especially, not after she had already ruined his night. 

And as Gwyn snuck out of the private library, tiptoeing through the House of Wind, she tried her best to ignore the spark fluttering in her chest. And she tried even harder to not think about how she had slept through the night. No nightmares. How she had woken up and actually felt rested for the first time in weeks. 

She forced herself to ignore the voice telling her the only reason she had slept so soundly was because of the male next to her. 

Then Gwyn spent the rest of the day hiding in the library below the house. Thankfully, there was no training that morning. It had been decided it was best to give everyone the weekend to rest up after the mating ceremony and festivities. 

Not to mention, Nesta and Cassian would both be gone for the next two weeks, perhaps longer. And they hadn’t been able to arrange someone to assist Azriel yet.  

Morrigan had offered to step in, but she was also needed back in Vallahan. Rhysand and Feyre had offered as well, but had other duties keeping them busy. More importantly, they also had a small baby to take care of.

Emerie had been adamant that she and Gwyn were more than capable to step up and help. While that certainly was true for Emerie, Gwyn wasn’t sure she was up to the challenge. 

So no training that morning suited her just fine. It made her feel a little less awful about hiding in the library all day. Because there, she could lose herself in familiar tasks. None which required her to be courageous or forced her to confront any fears. 

As the day went on, Gwyn shelved twice as many books than she would on a normal day. She even volunteered to help the other girls put away their books. Then she read everything Merrill gave her, then she read it again, before finding more books that needed to be shelved. 

When the other priestesses went to bed— Gwyn kept working. 

Working and working and working. 

Fighting against the demons haunting her, against the crushing weight of disappointment. 

And still, she was unable to brush away the sense of shame coating every inch of her skin; the sense of betrayal for not being there for Nesta on her big day. 

She should’ve pushed through it, should’ve been stronger.

But as soon as that beautiful dress had been zipped behind her Gwyn had crumbled. No amount of mind-stilling had helped to calm her irregular breathing. She had blinked and only waves of blood flashed before her. So much blood. Everywhere. 

Later, when Morrigan had arrived to take her down to the River House, Gwyn had just been a shaking mess. There had been no other option than to tell Morrigan to go without her, to tell Nesta she was sorry and to congratulate the couple on her behalf. The blonde female had seemed reluctant to leave her alone, and had suggested bringing Nesta back up to the house so they could talk. 

But Gwyn had used her all too practiced charm and reassured her she’d be fine. There was no way she would let Nesta come to her aid, not on her big day. She refused to ruin the day more than she already had. 

Angry tears formed in Gwyn’s eyes as she remembered the pitying look Morrigan had given her before leaving. She hated it, but  she could not fault the female. Gwyn knew she was the epitome of pathetic. 

And Gwyn also knew it was all in her head. She knew that. 

She knew she would’ve been safe. With all the wards and security and powerful people in attendance— it was safe. Safer than most places. 

Still, the idea of being surrounded by so many new faces... It was too much. It didn’t matter who they were. It still hadn’t stopped the nausea from spreading through her body. From squeezing the air out of her lungs.  

The last time she had left, when she thought she’d been ready... she had been taken against her will. Again. 

And maybe she had not been broken in the same way, had not lost as much as the first time, but it didn’t stop the nightmares.  

Nor did it stop the helplessness from growing larger within her, planting seeds of fear in every corner. It didn’t matter how hard she fought. The world would still find a way to destroy her. Screams continued to haunt every dream, only now, new screams were blending with the old ones. The beasts from the mountain carried old faces as they ripped her apart. Over and over again. 

Gwyn was just tired. 

Tired of the nightmares. 

Tired of being hurt. 

So she did what she did best – she kept working. The smell of parchment wrapping around her like a familiar hug in the quiet library. She shoved another book into place, harder than necessary, until a familiar voice startled her. 

“Ouch, what did that poor book ever do to you?” 

Gwyn quickly turned around and saw Emerie leaning against one of the bookshelves, watching her with wary eyes. 

“Em, hey,” Gwyn breathed out and put a hand over her chest. “You scared me. I didn’t hear you come up.” 

“Clearly,” Emerie said, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not surprised, though, seeing how hard you were slamming those books around. Everything okay?”

And there it was, shining in those brown eyes were the same worry and pity Gwyn had seen so many times before. 

“Of course,” she swallowed the bitter taste of her lie, forcing a smile. “What are you doing here?” 

“You missed dinner,” Emerie told her and Gwyn only stared at her blinking, blinking and blinking. Emerie saw the question without her voicing it. “Dinner with the High Lord and Lady...? To discuss the Valkyries and our training while Nesta and Cassian are away.” 

Gwyn’s heart sank. 

Right. That dinner.  

Instead of training they had planned a dinner with Feyre and Rhysand—Azriel, Morrigan and Amren too—to sort it all out over fancy food and good drinks. ‘And to get to know each other better,’ Feyre had suggested with a hopeful smile, wanting to know more about her sister’s friends and learn about the Valkyries. 

“Oh shoot, I forgot,” Gwyn winced as another layer of shame slithered across her skin. Her mouth opened and closed, searching for an acceptable excuse. “I was just... busy. Merrill was... demanding today, as usual,” she gestured vaguely toward the cart of books beside her. “You know how she is.”

“Mhm,” Emerie raised another brow and let silence fill the space between them for a moment, her gaze gradually softening. “You know Nesta isn’t upset, right? She understands. We all do.” Gwyn took a shaky breath as even more silence stretched between them. Emerie took half a step towards her. “Are you okay?” 

“I don’t know how to answer that,” she admitted quietly. 

“That’s alright,” her friend replied gently. “You don’t have to know, but please know that you don’t have to go through it alone either. We are here for you.” 

At that, the tears Gwyn had been holding back all day finally spilled over and she quickly turned around to avoid Emerie’s concerned frown. Using the sleeve of her robe to erase any trace of wetness from her cheeks. 

Emerie, of course, still noticed but thankfully did not say anything else. Instead she just watched as Gwyn turned her attention back to the cart of books that still needed to be shelved. 

Silence filled the space between them again, only broken by the soft scrape of a book against the wooden shelf. 

More silence. 

Another book. 

More silence. 

A book. 

Another book.

Silence.

And then–

“You wanna tell me what’s going on between you and the shadowsinger then?” 

“What?” Gwyn whipped her head around so fast she feared her neck might snap. Eyes wide as she continued, far too quickly, far too defensive. “Nothing! We’re friends.” 

“Oh, please,” Emerie snorted, mischief slowly replacing the concern in her features. “You should’ve seen him looking for you last night— actually you probably did see him after he abruptly left the ceremony. Such a dramatic exit. So... spill.” 

”We’re friends,” she repeated and once again tried to block out the memory of his strong body pressing into hers as they danced. ”He just wanted to make sure everything was okay.” 

Emerie smirked as she noticed Gwyn struggling to stop the heat in her veins from reaching her pale cheeks. “Gwyneth Berdara— my sweet, sweet oblivious friend, I do not believe you. I’ve seen the way you look at each other. The way he looks at you.” 

Gwyn scoffed. “And what way would that be?” 

“Like you two can’t decide who is more smitten,” Emerie grinned. “Like he can't decide which part of you he’d like to taste first.” 

“Emerie!” she gasped and heat suddenly spread like wildfire across her face. “That’s not true.” 

“Sure,” it was Emerie’s turn to scoff now. ”You weren’t the one sitting opposite him at dinner tonight. Watching him stare at the doors like a lost little wolf pup, just waiting for you to walk through.” 

Gwyn opened her mouth to protest again, but no words would come out. 

Emerie gave her another grin, triumph shining brightly in her eyes. ”So, what happened when he found you?” 

”Nothing,” she repeated again and had to lean against the cart to find some semblance of support. ”We just… We just talked.” 

”And is that all you do when you meet him in the training ring every other night? Just talk?” 

”Wait, how do you know about that?” 

”You two are not as sneaky as you would like to think.” 

”We’re just friends,” she said for a third time, letting out a deep sigh. ”Honestly, Em. There’s nothing more to it. Sometimes when I can’t sleep, training is the only thing that helps— Azriel just happens to be there too. You know he likes to train alone.”  

”No, I didn’t know that actually.” Emerie didn’t even try to hide her knowing smirk. ”I don’t pay that much attention to him.” 

Gwyn tried—and failed—to contain her deepening blush. 

”I- well, everyone knows that.” 

”Gwyn,” Emerie said gently, her smirk fading into a soft encouraging smile. ”You are allowed to like him. Hell, at least half of the priestesses have a crush on him.” 

Gwyn found herself tensing at the statement, a small kernel of jealousy growing in her belly. But she was quick to block out the urge to throttle each and everyone of those priestesses the next time she saw them. 

”I don’t like him like that,” she said instead and repeated for a fourth and final time; ”We’re friends.” 

Emerie eyed her carefully for a minute, before accepting that Gwyn had no desire to discuss this subject further. “Alright, you’re friends.” 

And because Gwyn refused to let silence overtake the space again. She instead raised her chin, determined to leave everything behind her. 

“Did you decide anything regarding our training then?” she asked. 

“Mor will join us on Tuesday,” Emerie nodded. “She’s been wanting to join training for some time now, never got to train with the earlier Valkyries. She’s excited.” Gwyn could’ve sworn she saw a slight blush spread across her friend’s cheeks this time. Interesting. “She has to go back to Vallahan in a couple of days though.” 

“Right.” 

“We’ll help Azriel after that. I told them it would be a great opportunity for us to learn how to lead. Rhysand said he’d step in if it became too much, or in case we want to focus more on our own training. If the others are comfortable with him there, of course.” 

Gwyn only nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. She doubted she would ever be able to lead anyone. 

“So training is back on track on Tuesday?” 

“It is,” Emerie confirmed. “You can take another day off though, if you-” 

“I’ll be there,” Gwyn interrupted and forced another smile. “It’ll be good.” And it would. Training always helped. Usually. Most of the time at least. 

She only hoped she’d found enough courage to face Azriel again by then. 

“Okay, well, Mor is waiting for me upstairs, to bring me back to Windhaven.” Another blush. “I just wanted to check on you.” 

“I’m alright. Promise. I’ll see you at training.” 

Emerie didn’t bother to call out her obvious lie and simply just crossed the remaining space between them. Gwyn hadn’t realized how badly she’d needed a hug until Emerie’s warm body embraced hers. 

“Make sure you eat something and go get some rest,” Emerie mumbled and squeezed her extra tight. “And remember, there is absolutely nothing wrong with accepting a helping hand. We are all stronger together. You and Nesta taught me that. There is no need to suffer alone.” 

After another hour of shelving books, that small voice within her finally won, closing in on all of her other worries like a thick blanket of shadows.

’ You’re being ridiculous, Berdara. Go to sleep.’

But sleep did not find her. Not at all. And as she stared at the ceiling, counting all the small stains, Emerie’s words finally caught up to her. 

Along with them, everything Azriel had told her last night. Promised her. That he too had claimed that there was nothing wrong with needing a little help. 

And he had looked sincere as he linked his pinky with hers. Hadn’t he? 

There had been nothing but genuine support behind every word, behind every action, from him. Even when she had been rude to him; he had been so understanding. Had wiped away her hot tears and promised to be there for her. Nothing, absolutely nothing, in his lovely features had indicated that he’d thought she was being silly or overreacting. 

Gwyn squeezed her eyes shut, pulling her blankets tighter around herself. Had she overreacted this morning though? Overreacted by hiding all day? Maybe Azriel truly wanted to help? He was kind. Honorable. Loyal. He wouldn’t offer to help if he didn’t mean it. Would he? 

He’d had plenty of opportunities to leave her and go back. Yet, he had stayed. His mere presence had been enough to quiet the raging storm inside her, if only for a little while. 

They danced together under the moon because he had asked her. He had chosen to stay with her, even after she fell asleep on him. 

Catrin would’ve had a terrible tongue-lashing prepared for her if she was there. If she could see how Gwyn was once again running away and hiding. Running from a good and honorable male, who for some reason seemed to genuinely care about her. 

Because Catrin would never hide. She always voiced her wants and needs, and wouldn’t have let her doubts and fears control her life. Yes, her sister had been stubborn and moody most of the time, but she had always known when to ask for help. She had been able to swallow her pride and admit when things got rough. 

But Catrin had always been the smarter twin. Stronger. 

The one who should’ve made it out alive that night. . .

Gwyn lurched out of bed, bile rising in the back of her throat. But as she fell to her knees in front of the toilet, nothing came out. Her body slumped back against the wall, dizzy and weakened. A single tear ran down her cheek and she let it fall until it dropped off her chin and fell on her nightgown. 

‘Whatever you need; I’ll help you.’ Azriel’s deep voice suddenly echoed through her head and she could’ve sworn she felt something brush along her pinky. The one he had held with his own. 

Gwyn moved again, but she did not go back to bed. No, she found herself climbing the stairs to the House proper. Taking each step without a clear plan or direction. Her body moved on its own– an invincible string pulling her along, leading her until she stood outside the large sitting room. 

A lone figure sat by the fire, drinking from a glass filled with a dark amber liquid. She stood silently and just watched, observing the rigid posture and how the magnificent wings were folded tightly behind him. 

Azriel just stared at the fire, seemingly unaware of her presence by the door. One of his shadows peered over at her above his wings, yet he did not move. Gwyn did though, the movement of the shadow pulled her out of her trance and she shook her head slightly. Surprised to find herself standing in the same room as him again. Surprised that her subconscious had led her right back to him.

No, that would be a lie. Some part of her had known exactly what she would find after climbing the stairs. Had known what–who–she was looking for. 

“Hey you,” she spoke into the quiet room and took a step forward on light feet. 

Azriel choked on his drink, spluttering into his glas as he turned around, surprise written across his face. Gwyn had to press her lips together to prevent a small giggle from slipping through. 

“Gwyn,” he breathed out and cleared his throat awkwardly. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you.” 

“I thought your companions were supposed to warn you against people sneaking up on you,” she nodded to the shadows vibrating around him, as if they were laughing too. 

“They are,” he muttered while casting a quick glare in their direction. “You seem to be an exception.”  

Gwyn didn’t try to hide her laugh then. Not as two of his shadows surged towards her, brushing against her cheek and circling her body, finally greeting her. 

“I’m flattered,” she said and lifted a hand to let a third shadow spinn between her fingers. “I think? Or should I be offended that they don’t see me as a threat?” 

“Oh, they know you’re a threat,” he chuckled softly and raised the glass to his lips again, taking a long drink. Gwyn rolled her eyes, still smiling as she slowly made her way over, sitting down in the chair across from him. 

His familiar scent washed over her immediately and she closed her eyes for a brief second, letting herself bask in the comfort it brought her. Hazel eyes tracked her every movement and she counted one heartbeat. Two. Three. Before his voice finally broke the peaceful crackling of the fire. “You alright?” 

“Sure,” she huffed and sank further down into the chair, crossing her arms over her chest. 

Even without looking at him, Gwyn knew he was frowning. 

“You didn’t come to dinner tonight,” he said quietly. “And you were gone this morning... I’m sorry if I said, or did, something inappropriate and made you–” 

“You didn’t,” She cut him off promptly. “I was just late for work and Merrill was pushing me extra hard today... I just— I forgot about dinner.” She played with the buttons of her nightgown, unable to face him or acknowledge the apology. “You didn’t do anything to make me uncomfortable though. I promise.” 

Azriel nodded and Gwyn knew he did not believe her. Knew that he still thought he had done something wrong and that was why she’d skipped dinner. Something like pain shot through her at the idea that he blamed himself when it was her own cowardice that had made her run.

If only she had been brave, like Catrin, then she would’ve stayed in that library and let herself curl into his warm body like she had wanted to. 

But she wasn’t Catrin. 

She wasn’t brave. 

Wasn’t worth his– 

“Can’t sleep?” Azriel’s deep voice pulled her back to the present, as if he had known where her mind had been heading. 

“No,” she breathed out deeply and finally turned to face him. “You?” 

“Yeah, something like that,” he hummed, his voice low and rough as he glanced down at the drink cradled in his hands. 

Gwyn’s gaze followed his, drawn to his long fingers wrapped around the glass. The beautiful hands she had tried so hard to not think about all day. And those brutal scars… such a stark, jarring contrast to the soft way he’d held her last night. 

She didn’t know what—or who—had inflicted those wounds, but a fierce, unexpected need to avenge stirred deep within her, hot and unyielding. The thought startled her, and she quickly looked away, pressing her palms firmly into her lap as if it would steady the wild pull thrumming in her chest.

“I’m surprised you’re not up there training,” she gestured towards the ceiling and the training ring located above them. 

“Was gonna head up there after I finished this,” he raised his glass again. 

“I didn’t realize alcohol was the secret to a flawless form in the ring,” Gwyn mused. 

“Flawless, huh?” Azriel grinned as his dark brows rose higher. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Berdara.” 

“Watch it, Shadowsinger,” she warned with a small glare, trying her best to hide her blushing cheeks behind her long unbound hair. “Or it’s the last nice thing you’ll ever hear from me.” 

Azriel laughed, a true and genuine laugh, and Gwyn found herself joining him. His laugh deep and warm, reverberating through her like a rich melody she hadn’t realized she needed. 

Her smile lingered, even as her laughter faded, and she couldn’t help herself. “Or maybe I’ll expose you. Tell everyone that the infamous Shadowsinger isn't always broody and actually knows how to laugh. Maybe the High Lord will even throw another party to mark the occasion.” 

“Funny,” Azriel gave her an unimpressed look, though his lips still twitched upwards. “You should be careful. You forget I’m in charge of training right now. I could always throw in some extra laps for you.” 

“You wouldn’t,” Gwyn told him with her chin held high, daring him to challenge her. 

“We’ll see, won’t we?” He smirked, sharp and confident, as he leaned back in his chair. 

“Last I heard, I’m supposed to help you with training. Maybe I’ll make you run some laps.” 

“You could always try,” he replied with a crooked smile, amusement dancing in his hazel eyes, and Gods, it wasn’t fair how charming he could be at times.  

“Oh, just you wait, Shadowsinger.” Gwyn narrowed her eyes in an attempt to seem threatening, though the teasing lilt in her voice betrayed her. “I’ll make you regret giving me extra laps.”

Azriel chuckled softly, tipping his glass toward her in a mock toast. 

“Of that, I have no doubt.”

Gwyn shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips again. It was terrifyingly easy to fall into this rhythm with him, to let the banter carry her worries away. Despite the turmoil inside her. But as she leaned back in her own chair, watching as the firelight flickered across his face, there was something... heavy in his expression. 

Her smile dropped as she looked at him with knitted brows. 

“Are... are you alright?” 

“I’m fine,” he replied with a short nod, though he refused to look at her now, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the fire before them. She didn’t miss the way his knuckles tightened around his glass. “Just a lot on my mind.” 

Gwyn bit her lip, a new knot forming in her stomach as she studied his profile. He’d been there for her last night, had comforted her with nothing more than his cool reassurance and steady hands. Danced with her, creating a bubble of peacefulness around them she wasn’t sure she had ever experienced before. Kept her warm even as the cold night embraced them. 

And she had made him feel like he’d done something wrong. Made him think he’d done something inappropriate. When in reality, he had done everything right. 

She needed to at least try to do the same for him. Needed to try to not be so selfish and useless. He deserved more. Deserved to have the same support and compassion he’d shown her last night. 

He definitely deserved better than her, still, some deep instinctual part of her was screaming at her to at least try. But the words felt heavy on her tongue, like they’d shatter everything between them if she tried to voice them.

She shifted awkwardly in her seat, fingers twisting nervously as she eventually forced herself to speak. “You know,” she began, swallowing against the dryness in her throat, “it goes both ways. You can talk to me too. And if– I mean, if there is something I can do to help you... I'm here for you.” 

Azriel still didn’t look at her, though something seemed to soften in his troubled expression. Gwyn wasn’t sure if she had overstepped as the soft crackling fire filled the silence between them. It seemed silly to think he’d ever want her help then. He had offered the same thing last night and she had spent the whole day hiding. Why would he want to seek help from someone like her? 

“Thank you, Gwyn.” His deep voice settled her racing heart. The overwhelming need to make him smile again took her by surprise and Gwyn realized that she had meant every word she said. Because somewhere between the stupid obstacle courses, the dagger lessons and all the late nights in the training ring – Azriel had become a friend. A real one. Not just someone she admired from afar, but someone she cared for. Someone she trusted. Someone who made her feel... alive again. 

And for whatever reason, Gwyn wanted him to be happy. No, needed him to be. Even if he had only pitied her last night, and hadn't been serious with his promises, Gwyn couldn’t stomach the idea of him suffering on his own. 

The next words slipped out before her overwhelmed mind could catch up to what was happening. 

“Would you like to sleep with me?” 

This made him look at her again. Azriel snapped his wide eyes to meet hers so fast Gwyn barely had time to blink, barely had time to register what she had actually asked him. 

“What?” 

And as realization slowly, painfully slow, washed over her Gwyn felt her whole face turn a deep shade of red. Because– what ? She wasn’t sure what she had meant to ask him, but it surely wasn’t that. 

“Not like that!” She blurted, her face growing impossibly hotter under his confused expression. Her heart beating so hard it was a miracle it didn’t burst out of her chest as she tried to come up with a feasible excuse. “I mean– I just�� what I meant– ” she stumbled over every word, her voice rising higher and higher with every attempt to explain herself. 

One of his shadows suddenly curled itself around her wrist, stilling her anxious fidgeting. Its cool touch soothing and reassuring, as if telling her to just take a breath and calm down. To take a moment to find the right words. 

The small gesture grounded her enough to take a long deep breath. And another. Until her heart had stilled enough for her to somewhat gather her thoughts. “Just sleeping,” she clarified quietly, her voice still a bit shaky but sincere. There was no point in denying it anymore. “I slept better than I have in... in a long time last night. I think maybe having someone there helped.” 

Azriel sat impossibly still for what seemed like an eternity, his face unreadable. Still, Gwyn knew he  was weighing each and every one of her words, every implication. And with each passing second, she felt her embarrassment deepening. 

When he finally shook his head, so subtly she almost missed it, it came as no surprise. But it felt like a blow all the same. 

“Gwyn,” he said her name like it pained him. “I can’t- I... I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

She was on her feet before he could finish the sentence, her chest tightening uncomfortably. The shadow around her wrist tugged at her, urging her to stay, but Gwyn was already moving as she spoke. 

“Yeah, no, of course,” she said, nodding stiffly and forcing a laugh that sounded hollow even to her own ears. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I shouldn’t have—just forget I said anything. Goodnight, Azriel.”

“Gwyn, stop, I didn’t—”

She didn’t wait for him to finish. She couldn’t.  Not as her spiraling thoughts made her vision blur and each step she took down the stairs threatened to send her tumbling. What had gotten into her? Of course he didn’t want to just sleep with her! What the hell had she been thinking? 

Clearly, she hadn’t been thinking at all. Because if she had, she never would’ve had the guts to ask such a thing. And now, whatever friendship they had was surely ruined. She’d let herself get carried away by his calming presence, the way his soothing scent made her feel safe. Had allowed that strange pull, some irrational part of her subconscious mind, to take control and ruin everything. 

All Gwyn had wanted was to make him feel better, to help him ease whatever was troubling him and kept him from sleeping. Just like he had done for her. 

And she couldn’t even do that. 

Weak. Useless. Broken. Childish. 

The words taunted her as she continued her descent to the library, desperate to reach her room. Once inside she leaned against the wood, squeezed her eyes shut and pressed a trembling hand to her face, willing the tears away. 

How foolish of her to think she could help someone like him. To think her silly jokes and late-night training sessions could mean anything to someone like him. Azriel was everything she pretended to be. 

A warrior. 

The Night Court’s spymaster. 

Shadowsinger. 

Strong. Powerful. Clever. Brave. 

Her knees gave way, and she sank onto her bed, pulling her legs close to her chest, curling in on herself. Azriel already had friends. A family. People he could talk to. He didn’t need her. 

“I’m so stupid,” she grumbled and knocked her forehead against her knees. “So stupid.” 

As minutes passed, maybe hours, exhaustion started creeping down on her. But her thoughts still refused to settle. And sleep—unsurprisingly—still eluded her. No matter how hard she tried to ease her mind, it was impossible to get her body to relax. She let out a loud and frustrated huff. The old sheets chafed, the heavy blankets were suffocating her and nothing about the bed felt right.

Another hour of tossing and turning passed and Gwyn was about to give up on sleep altogether when she felt it– a soft cool touch brushing against her cheek, like a shadowy kiss against her hot skin. 

Her eyes shot up and as one of Azriel’s shadows hovered above her– Gwyn’s racing heart finally stopped. She held her breath as it curled around her wrist, the same way it had done upstairs, and tugged at her until it was pulling her out of bed. “Stop,” she whispered and tried to gently swat it off her arm. “You can’t be here. Go back to him!” 

The shadows' only response was to tug at her harder and Gwyn was surprised at the strength behind it. There was no other choice but to follow as it led her back to the stairs, silently guiding her up to the house for a second time. The stone floor was chilly against her bare feet, but she barely noticed. Not as the shadow guided her past the sitting room she’d fled from earlier and continued up another flight of stairs. 

Until she stood in a part of the house she hadn’t been to before. At the end of the long corridor a dark door was ajar. The shadow on her wrist released her and twirled up and around her before continuing toward the door. It paused briefly, as if to give her a choice, and Gwyn could’ve sworn it was nodding at her; encouraging her to follow. Then it slipped through the small opening and joined the rest of the shadows in the dark room. 

Gwyn’s palms were sweaty as she peeked inside and saw Azriel standing by the large window. He turned at the soft creak of the floorboards, his wings shifting slightly and dark hair falling over his face in tousled waves. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Though relief seemed to wash over him as soon as his eyes found hers, the hazel depths glimmering despite the dark room. 

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing he said and Gwyn watched the subtle movement of his throat as he swallowed once, hesitating for a moment before continuing, more quietly. “I’d like to take you up on your offer... if it still stands.” 

“You don’t have to–” 

“I made a promise,” he cut her off and raised his hand, extending his pinky toward her. “To help you. In whatever way you need.” Then, more shyly than she had ever seen him before. “And maybe it’ll help me too... I did sleep pretty well last night too.” 

Gwyn just stared at him, at his outstretched and the pinky hanging between them. A gesture so simple, probably childish to most, and yet...  It meant everything. 

“You don’t have to do this, Azriel,” she said softly while also taking a small step into his room, slowly closing the distance between them. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this just because you offered to help me.” 

“I don’t,” he nodded firmly, leaving no room for doubt. “I meant what I said. Maybe it’ll help me too. Mother knows I need to get some sleep.” 

Relief and something warmer flooded through her as she closed the distance between them fully. The shadows around him seemed to hum with approval as she reached out and curled her pinky around his again. 

“Okay,” she whispered. The warmth of his hand against hers erased every inch of doubt she’d  tormented herself with, instantly steadying the whirlwind of emotions inside her. A warmth that made her blood burn with something she didn’t fully understand yet. 

Azriel stepped away and gestured to the neatly made bed. 

“You can take any side you’d like,” he offered, his wings furling and unfurling behind him as he glanced down at his feet almost bashfully. 

Gwyn didn’t move at first, her hands twisting nervously at her sides before she nodded and moved towards the bed with timid steps. It was nearly thrice the size of her own bed, and yet, it seemed so impossibly small. Especially as she realized it would be a lot different compared to the sofa they’d shared in the private library. 

But as she got herself settled on the left side of the bed, the side furthest from the door, a waft of cedar and night chilled mist enveloped her immediately. The sheets so soft and warm she had to close her eyes and allow herself a moment to savor it. 

Soon, Azriel got in on the opposite side, keeping a respectful distance between them. Only the sound of their breathing and rustling sheets filling the room. They both stayed decidedly still next to each other, and it was absurd, Gwyn thought to herself. That she had ended up in his bed after running from him that morning, and then again only a couple hours ago. 

“Azriel?” Gwyn whispered and shifted body until she was on her side, facing him. 

“Yeah?” he murmured, his voice just as quiet as hers as he turned his head to meet her eyes. 

“Thank you.” 

His lips curved into a gentle smile as he dipped his chin once. And already, Gwyn could feel her body finally relaxing, something settling deep in her chest, as sleep started to take hold of her scattered mind. His presence beside her a steady anchor, keeping her grounded and safe. 

“Goodnight, Berdara.” 

“Goodnight, Shadowsinger.” 

No nightmares plagued her that night either as sleep finally claimed her. 

[shadesofhogwarts]

where Sirius appoints Regulus as his Chief Slytherin Analyst to find out which Slytherin James is sneaking off with (spoiler: it's Regulus)

Wordcount: 1.7k

Sirius Black was a man on a mission.

A mission that involved a corkboard, red string, and a fervent belief that James Potter, his best mate, his brother in all but blood, was sneaking off at odd hours. Alone. Suspiciously cheerful. Secretly smiling like a love-struck fool. Betrayal. Treason.

And worst of all– Sirius knew it had to be with a Slytherin. He was sneaking off to cavort with a Slytherin– a Slytherin– behind his back.

Unacceptable.

So he did what any normal, rational person would do: he turned an empty classroom into his personal investigation headquarters, complete with grainy surveillance (read: badly charmed photographs) and a complex web of suspects linked together with increasingly frantic scrawls of color-coded accusations.

"Right," Sirius barked, slapping a picture of Barty Crouch Jr. onto the board so hard the entire thing shook. "Look at his face. Look at it. No one with that much evil in his eyes gets that close to James unless he’s planning something."

Regulus Black, younger brother and resident Slytherin consultant, sat cross-legged on a desk, inspecting Sirius's work with barely concealed amusement, nodded solemnly, "Definitely suspicious. Maybe James is into... evil types?"

Sirius froze. Horror dawning.

"Oh my God," he whispered. "James has a villain kink."

Regulus coughed violently to cover his laughter.

"You know," Regulus said, tapping a photo of James talking to Evan Rosier during Potions class, "it could just be classwork."

Sirius scoffed, violently connecting Rosier’s picture to James's with a length of string.

"Open your eyes, Reggie. James hates Potions. And Rosier smells like cabbage. There's no way James is suffering that unless he's involved."

Regulus blinked, a picture of serene innocence. "Of course. Must be a love affair, then."

"Exactly!" Sirius cried, missing the heavy sarcasm entirely. He stabbed the marker at Rosier's photo. "But maybe it’s Mulciber. James did pass him a note in Charms once–"

Regulus arched an eyebrow. "Maybe he’s secretly courting the entire Slytherin house?"

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "Don’t be stupid. James has standards."

Regulus made a thoughtful hum, twisting the silver ring on his finger to hide his smirk.

Meanwhile, James– bless his stupid Gryffindor heart– was probably lurking two corridors down, waiting to drag Regulus into a broom closet and whisper "Did he buy it?" against his mouth.

(Spoiler: Sirius had bought it, paid extra, and tipped the cashier.)

And here Regulus was, actively assisting his brother in hunting down... himself.

Sirius stared at the corkboard like it had personally betrayed him.

"This isn't adding up," he muttered. "We need more evidence. We need–" He snapped his fingers. "–to spy on him!"

Regulus clapped his hands slowly. "Bravo. Very mature."

"I am mature," Sirius said rather proudly, missing the mockery. "And you, little brother, are going to help me."

Regulus sighed, sliding off the desk with the slow grace of a martyr.

"Fine. But when this blows up in your face, don't say I didn't warn you."

"Blow up?" Sirius laughed, throwing an arm around Regulus's shoulders. "Reggie, this is going to be legendary."

Regulus smiled thinly, already planning how best to break the news when– not if– he eventually got caught with his tongue down James' throat.

Legendary indeed.

Fast forward: three hours later.

The corkboard looked like a crime scene.

Regulus had been promoted to "Chief Slytherin Analyst."

Sirius had drawn a diagram titled "James's Possible Lovers" with a graph that included "Snape," "Rosier," "Mulciber," and, alarmingly, "Lucius Malfoy."

("If James is into blondes," Sirius said grimly, "we're all screwed.")

Regulus, at this point, had mentally divorced himself from reality.

And then– oh, and then– Sirius had an idea.

A terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad idea.

He decided they would tail James.

In disguise.

Wearing stupid Muggle sunglasses and trench coats they stole from McGonagall’s lost property closet

...

Sirius: "Keep low. Stay cool. Act natural."

Regulus, deadpan: "We are hiding behind a suit of armor, Sirius."

James, fifteen feet away, secretly dragging Regulus away.

"Oi, Reg, keep a sharp lookout everywhere yea- Reg..?"

Sirius blinked at the empty hallway.

"Wait... where did he go?"

Cue five straight minutes of Sirius running around the castle screaming "REGULUS? REGULUS??" while Regulus and James made out behind a tapestry.

(They were laughing so hard they almost got caught.)

...

It happened on a Tuesday.

Because of course it did. Tuesdays were cursed.

Sirius was tailing James again. (In broad daylight. Wearing a massive floppy sunhat. Looking absolutely deranged.)

He was alone this time– Regulus, the little traitor, had "homework" and "couldn’t make it."

('Suspicious,' Sirius had muttered. 'Snake behavior.')

He gripped his walkie-talkie and whispered into it (Regulus said he would be actively listening in on whatever he reported) "Operation Find James's Secret Slytherin Lover is a go."

Peeking around the corner, Sirius watched James sneak into the abandoned Transfiguration corridor.

Suspicious. Very suspicious.

Sirius crept closer, holding his breath.

And then–

LIKE A SCENE OUT OF A SOAP OPERA SIRIUS WOULD NEVER ADMIT TO WATCHING–

James reached out.

Grabbed someone lurking in the shadows.

And kissed them.

Right there. In the open. Full-on, no-holding-back, hand-in-hair, body-pressed-up-against-the-wall, movie scene kiss.

Sirius’s jaw hit the floor.

"WHO—"

he shrieked.

The “someone” turned their head–

and Sirius saw.

It was Regulus.

His Regulus.

His little brother Regulus.

Sirius made a noise that started somewhere between his toes and ended somewhere in the stratosphere.

"REGULUS?!" he howled.

James broke the kiss, beaming like he’d won first prize at the fair.

Regulus just smirked, lazy and catlike, like he hadn’t just committed literal fratricide.

Sirius pointed between them wildly, as if by moving his hands fast enough he could undo reality.

"YOU–" (James)

"AND YOU–" (Regulus)

"–ARE–" (both of them)

"NO!!"

James snickered. "Surprise, Pads!"

Regulus, perfectly unbothered:

"I told you this would blow up in your face."

Sirius stumbled back like he’d been slapped.

"No. No no no no. WHAT. WHAT. THIS IS ILLEGAL."

Regulus crossed his arms.

"Pretty sure it’s not."

"IT SHOULD BE!"

James slung an arm around Regulus’s shoulders.

"Face it, mate. You’ve been helping us hide it for weeks."

Sirius clutched at the air like he was trying to hold onto his last brain cell.

"You made me– I– you made me build a CONSPIRACY WALL–"

Regulus, expressionless:

"You built that yourself."

James, tilting his head:

"Reg did suggest the 'villain kink' theory, though."

"YOU WHAT?!" Sirius screeched.

Regulus smiled serenely, like a horrible little angel.

"I thought it was funny."

Sirius just crumpled to the floor.

Sat there.

Completely dead inside.

His best mate was dating his baby brother.

His conspiracy board was a lie.

His floppy hat was crooked.

He stared at the ceiling and whispered, brokenly:

"I need a drink."

Regulus patted him on the head condescendingly.

"Good luck with that, you're sixteen."

James laughed so hard he almost collapsed.

...

Later that night:

Sirius set the entire conspiracy board on fire.

(In the Quidditch pitch. At midnight. Crying real tears.)

James and Regulus made out behind the bleachers.

Mission: Complete.

A/n: inspired by this thing I read on pinterest. hope it made you smile like it did me💗

[mayimkjs]

An Introduction to MILGRAM

I decided to do this because I had everything written out for FOOL's MATE. Send it to your friends lamo.

Introduction

MILGRAM (ミルグラム) is an ongoing interactive music project by DECO*27 and Takuya Yamanaka that was first established in April 2020. MILGRAM is a mysterious, magical prison that houses 10 prisoners who have all committed a murder and it’s the job the guard to determine if their crimes are forgivable.

MILGRAM also contains a runic code alphabet that can be translated into the latin alphabet. This is seen on all uniforms and the website.

How do you decide what they are? 

Each prisoner gets 3 trials. After each interrogation, they are put through the MILGRAM system that extracts songs and music videos from their mind that will slowly explain what they’ve done. When someone receives a guilty verdict, they get more restraints put on them. The prisoners perceive their judgements as voices in their minds telling them that they're guilty or innocent/forgiven or not forgiven.

What is the purpose of MILGRAM?

I think the manga best explains the purpose of MILGRAM. Even though the manga is set it a different MILGRAM, it still has the same purpose. As the manga puts it, MILGRAM exists to oversee cases were people can’t be judged based on existing laws and puts them in front of someone with the role of a guard. The job of this guard is to review the prisoners’ “sins” or crimes and deem them innocent/forgiven or guilty/unforgiven. 

So what exactly does the audience do?

You experience MILGRAM through the eyes of Es, guided by the talking rabbit, Jackalope. After each song is released, you are able to vote on whether you can forgive the prisoner for their crimes or not. Each prisoner is guilty of murder. You just have to decide if their actions are forgivable or not. The final verdict for each prisoner during each trial has side effects. For example, Kotoko was voted innocent during trial 1 and ended up beating the shit out of all the guilty prisoners except Amane because she didn't have time for her. The viewer is the one who is writing these prisoners stories and the one who decides how this story ends. You don’t have to do deep dives or even read or listen to the voice dramas. The only thing you really need to do, is watch the MV and listen to the song.

How are the trials structured? 

MV release and voting for that prisoner opens.

EP release later that day. The EPs consists of:

The song

The instrumental for that song

A cover and rearrangement of a DECO*27 song

Instrumental for the cover

A voice drama

Interrogation cards are released on the app and Twitter. 

The voice dramas present us with each prisoner’s surface emotions, while the music videos reveal their underlying ones.

What is the “MILGRAM Portal”?

MILGRAM Portal is the official mobile app for MILGRAM, published by CRAYON Inc. It is currently exclusive to Japan. This app includes news, MVs, interrogations, trial voting and timeline conversations. 

What are timeline conversations? 

These are conversations between prisoners. You can make comments on these posts, but the prisoners won't see or hear you. 

Background

Originally, Yamanaka wanted to make MILGRAM into a video game. But after the release of “Otome Dissection”, which was OTOIRO’s first work, he decided to go the route that MILGRAM has went. They wanted to make this accessible to everyone and not put anything as important as voting behind a paywall. Mikoto and Kotoko (or maybe Yuno instead) might have been added later after a suggestion from DECO to “include a character who would cause a stir in MILGRAM”. The characters DECO and Yamanaka where referring to in the interview I am referencing were not name dropped, but considering the context, it seems this is who they might have been referring to. MILGRAM is made with questions like “Can you forgive someone after knowing their crimes?” and “What would you do if you couldn’t forgive someone you loved?” in mind. 

How is it made?

OTOIRO is in charge of producing the project. Team OTO (DECO, Rockwell, sometimes TeddyLoid) works on the music and audio portion, where's Team IRO works on the videos, official art and other graphics such as the interrogation cards.

When making the songs, DECO records a demo of him singing the song, at least this was the case for Undercover. All of the covers are picked by DECO because he thinks they hit the character’s voice. The covers have no relevance to the plot. 

After each character is voted for, they start working on the music for the next season. During this time, DECO and Yamanaka are also brainstorming ideas for forgiven and unforgiven outcomes. 

Who are the people behind this?

Takuya Yamanaka (山中拓也)

Co-Producer, Story/Author

Takuya Yamanaka is a writer who has a degree in psychology. He couldn't go into a psychology based job because he was deemed "too sensitive" and got too involved in others emotions. Other from MILGRAM, h’s most well known for being the creator of the Caligula series.

He is also a cheeky bastard. 

DECO*27

Co-Producer, Composition/Music, Lyrics

Pronounced Deco Niina, he is a VOCALOID producer who has been active since 2008. He is currently one of the most popular producers and has over 100 vocaloid songs. 

Rockwell

Arrangement, Composition/Music

Rockwell (ロックウェル, 69ℓ), also known as Tomoki Uchiba (内場智樹), is a Japanese songwriter, arranger and guitarist.  He's a former member of the rock band "Silhouette from The Skylit". He left the band in August 2016, and in September 2016 he started his career as artist Rockwell. It is said that Rockwell and DECO*27 went to the same high school and both members of the judo club.

DMYM

Typography/Prop Designer, Art and Animation Director, Card Designer

No.734, also known as Doumae Yumi or DMYM, is a graphic designer and illustrator. After graduating from the Comprehensive Design Department of Kuwasawa Design School, she worked as a freelance designer and illustrator for BALCOLONY. In October 2018, she became one of the art directors and illustrators of OTOIRO.

akka

Original/Main Character/Color Designer, Composite, Animation Director, Key Animator

akka is an illustrator who has been creating PVs since 2009. akka's first involvement with VOCALOID PVs was a fanmade video for "Two Breaths Walking" that has since reached over 1,000,000 views, the PV is the starting association with DECO*27.

OTOIRO

Production Company, Sound and Visual Creation

OTOIRO Inc. is a Tokyo-based creative studio which is active in the production of music. It was established in October 2018 with DECO*27 as the CEO. OTOIRO operates on the basis of two divisions of 'creators':

OTO (sound): focuses on the production of sound.

IRO (color): focuses on the production of artworks and movies.

arma banca Co,. Ltd

Merchandising, Event Planning, Record Label 

arma bianca is a character goods merchandising company that runs Amnibus and many pop up shops. The also produce line stickers and help plan and organize digital content such as MILGRAM.

With the start of Trial 2, they opened their own record label, arma Records. The are also in charge of pop up shops and were heavily involved with the first live show, “hallucinations” and run the main merch shop with is hosted on Amnibus.

The arma bianca-associated producer working on MILGRAM is Sakai Tomonari (坂井智成).

[potatoplace]

Control

Azriel x Reader

Part 2

Story Summary: On your 145th birthday, your mate Azriel has a very special day planned for you. His only requirement of you is that you give up control and follow your instincts.

Warnings: mentions of abuse and domestic violence, killing your husband, ddlg, allusions to sex, egregious usage of pet names

Words: ~7.4k (~8.9k total)

Author's Note: okay so it's finally here! I know, I know, it took me a lot longer than I'd planned to get it out, but it's also 3x the length I had thought it would be... so there's that lol. Think of this as my apology for loml + my tears ricochet, some cute sweet fluffy goodness with Az to make up for the heartbreak. Also, I'm not sure how much I like this piece, the concept was really fun it was just a bit difficult starting and getting the words to flow. I just know that I appreciate all of the pet names... I hope you all enjoy, and thank you for reading! Oh and there's a second part, since there's a text block limit on here, that will be up in a few minutes.

p.s. there may be a true second part to this, basically a smutty epilogue, if I feel like writing it later

18+ only pls

💙🤍💙🤍💙

Azriel had always tried and succeeded in making your birthdays special. He knew the way you were raised had ruined them for you, nothing but a count down to the day you would be sold off like cattle to a male, likely crueler than your parents.

And he had been. You had been married to a vile excuse for a fae, Marcus at the age of twenty. He beat you for every misstep you made, and in his view nearly everything you had done while together was one.

The food was never delicious enough, you weren’t beautiful enough for a male like him, you talk to other fae too often.

The final straw came when, five years into your arranged marriage, Marcus beat you half to death for not having given him an heir yet. That night, you vowed to yourself that the next day would be the last your husband drew breath.

You prepared him breakfast, even with the broken arm he had given you. Using the small packet of poisonous herbs you had bought when you were feeling brave a few months ago, you slipped some into the middle of his omelette.

And the rest was history.

You were free to live you life, though you had to put your minor healing powers to work to afford the basic necessities. But, you still had the home Marcus had owned, given that he had no living relatives, and it was enough for you.

You had lived your life for another hundred years, as peacefully as one could in the Court of Nightmares.

The first time you saw Azriel had been at a revel, one held for the High Lord’s birthday. Attendance had been mandatory, and as you rarely attended revels you dressed your very best, a black silk floor-length gown with a slit running all the way up your left leg and ending at the top of your thigh. It had thin straps to hold it on both shoulders, and you had never felt more beautiful. It was one of the few things you had saved up to buy, nearly working yourself ragged to do so, but it was worth it.

The way his eyes met your across the room once he entered was electric, and he had made your way over to you almost in an instant.

Your heels had made you four inches taller, but the moment you stood next to the Shadowsinger you felt as if you weren’t wearing them at all. His wings added extra height to him, and you felt so small in comparison. But he didn’t lean over you, attempting to use his height to intimidate you. Instead, he introduced himself.

“My name is Azriel. What is your name, please?”

“I know who you are, Shadowsinger.”

“If you know who I am, would it not be fair for me to know who you are?” Azriel countered. “I merely wish to know the name of my mate.”

Mate. The word struck through you, the bond snapping with such intensity you stumbled slightly in your heels. Azriel steadied you with a calm hand, and you internally scolded yourself.

One conversation and you’re acting like a fool.

“Y/N," you finally respond.

“Y/N,” Azriel said, testing your name out on his tongue. The sound sent instant butterflies into your stomach. “Would you care to join me somewhere more private?” You gave him a look of disdain, having hoped he would be different from the rest. “No no, nothing like that. I figure that the prying eyes and ears turned to hear our every word are something both of us would like to avoid.”

You thought about it for a moment. Truly, the male could have swept you away in an instant, whisking you away to Mother knows where. If he had ill intent, he most likely would have acted upon it already.

“I suppose another location could be nice,” you reply, holding a hand out for him to take. He took it in his, pressing a kiss to the back of it.

Your heart fluttered, tugging lightly on the bond accidentally.

He winnowed the two of you away, and reappeared in a sitting room a moment later.

“I know that this is a shock to you, honestly it’s a shock to me as well,” Azriel started. “I never- I have not once believed that I deserve to be blessed with a mate, but I know that if you choose to pursue the bond, I will take care of you for as long as you allow. Even if you choose to reject the bond, if you would like I will provide you with a home of your own, anywhere you would like in the Night Court.”

Choose to reject- “What?” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. A male- your mate- was offering to take care of you even if you reject the bond. That was… unheard of here.

“I want to take care of you, even if you have no part in my life. I would enjoy getting to know you if you are open to it, though.”

“I…” You hesitated. A mate was something out of your control. Already, you were acting on instinct instead of carefully planning each action. But… The Mother had judged you as equals, and if he was being truthful… “Make a bargain with me. Promise that you will allow me to leave you permanently and alive if I choose to.”

Azriel blinked at you twice before his face broke into a grin larger than you though possible for such a stoic male. “It’s a bargain, Y/N.”

A burning sensation sparked on your sternum, just below where your dress started. You pulled it back slightly, and saw a delicate moonflower wrapped in shadows. Pretty.

“Tell me about yourself?” Azriel asked lightly.

And you had.

The two of you had gone on a few dates before you even let him inside of your house, and another three months after that you let him stay the night for the first time.

You were slow to trust, even if Azriel had shown no signs of abusive behavior or anything similar. But over time he made his way into your heart, residing around the very middle of it. He was your world now, the one you would do anything for. Even if that made you weak, or soft, and he was the one person you allowed yourself to let your guard down around.

Over a year in, on your birthday, Azriel had spent the entire day with you, a rarity with his job and you occasionally being called away for healing duties. He had cooked you dinner while you watched, flitting around him and wanting to help, but Azriel wouldn’t let you.

The dinner had been wonderful, Azriel was truly gifted in the kitchen. After, Azriel had asked if you would live with him.

You said yes.

The two of you bought a house together in Velaris, a city that made the spark of hope that had ignited in your chest after meeting Azriel turn into a blazing fire. Here, the people were free. They could do whatever they wanted, be whoever they wanted, follow their dreams until the end.

Your dream, your wish that you kept so deeply buried inside of your heart, was to reclaim the softness that had been stolen from you, beaten from your bones.

Azriel had helped with that already, his love and affection melting away the hard exterior you had while in private with him. Five years after meeting, you had accepted the bond on his birthday with his favorite meal, and the frenzy that followed was absolute bliss.

This year was a bit different, Azriel’s sole mission on your birthday was to make your dream for yourself come true, twenty years into your mateship.

You were getting ready for bed, brushing your hair on the eve of your 145th birthday when Azriel called you into your shared bedroom.

“Yes, my love?” You asked as you entered, and then you saw it.

Azriel was holding a baby pink silk nightgown with lace along the hem and a bow on the middle of the collar, far cuter than anything you normally wore. And… you had seen it before. When you went shopping for a set of lingerie to surprise your mate, you had lingered in front of it, testing out the soft feeling of the fabric against your fingers, wishing you were brave enough to purchase something so cute, let alone wear it.

“I… How did you know?”

Redness spread onto Azriel’s cheeks as he confessed, “I might have had a few reports from my shadows about the things you seem to want, but do not buy for yourself. The one that sleeps on the back of your neck all day was particularly vocal about it. I wanted to surprise you, sweetheart, with a wonderful day tomorrow. But that starts tonight, with you wearing this to bed.” His smile was so sweet, your knees went weak. It was always so hard to resist him.

“What is tomorrow?”

“If you allow it, and place full trust in me, I have planned out a day for you to have to make no decisions, just following your instincts.” You wrinkled your nose, the idea of giving up all control was one you had rarely entertained in the dead of night, though it had always been to Azriel… “I know it sounds a bit daunting, but you know that I will never make you do anything that you do not want to, right?”

You nodded your head, that had always been the truth in your relationship. Everything was a mutual agreement, the both of you having issues with trust due to your childhoods.

“And we can drop at any time, and just have a nice day all to ourselves if you don’t enjoy it. All that I ask is that you give it a chance. Will you?”

Having that last piece of knowing it could end at any moment, that small bit of control to put your mind at ease.

“Yes,” you breathed, walking over to where he was standing, nightgown still in his hands.

“Thank you, babydoll. I promise, tomorrow will be wonderful. Now, let me undress you,” he said, setting the nightgown down on the bed and raising the hem of your shirt.

You let him, raising your arms to help. Next came your bra, gently undone with kisses placed on your neck as he did so. Then he unbuttoned your pants, shimmying them down your hips and tossing them away after you lifted your feet.

“Arms up, princess.” You blushed at the nickname, one reserved for tender moments in between the sheets, and did as he said. The nightgown slipped over your head, the fabric running down your body like water. The lace at the edges was soft, no hints of scratchiness to be found.

“You look beautiful, Y/N. So cute and sweet, and all for me,” Azriel whispered into your ear as he pulled you into a hug, your body softening against his after a few moments. A sigh slipped out of your lips, and Azriel kissed the crown of your head before pulling away slowly. “Did you need to do anything else before we go to bed?”

“No, I did everything already Az.”

“Let’s go to sleep then, lovely,” he said, and the two of you slipped beneath the sheets, your back to his chest and his arm wrapped tightly around your chest, one wing cocooning the two of you.

You fell into a peaceful sleep, the scent and feeling of your mate all you could ever think to wish for.

💙🤍💙🤍💙

The next morning you were awoken to soft kisses trailing down your neck, and the sensation of wet hair tickling you.

Az’s arm was still around you, and you wiggled in his hold, pressing your hips back against his.

“Now, now,” Az tutted, slight disapproval in his voice, and you stilled. “None of that right now, my sweet birthday princess. It’s time for your bath.”

“Mm I don’t want to get out of bed yet though, Az,” you whined. The sheets were far too comfortable, and the nightgown you were wearing was heaven against your skin, plus the hard press of your mate against your rear… no, you wanted to stay in bed.

“I promise the bath with be worth it, babydoll. Come on,” he said, getting out of the bed and taking you with him, carrying you into the bathroom and setting you on your feet.

The bath had already been drawn, a thick layer of bubbles covering the surface and a soothing lavender and chamomile scent wafting from it. Candles were set up along the edge, and a cup of coffee made just how you like was sitting on the counter.

You went to remove your new nightgown before Azriel’s hands stopped you.

“Let me do that, sweetheart.” He lifted the gown of your head and put it in the laundry basket. “Go ahead and get in, I’ll bring you your coffee.”

You did as he said, and the water was at the perfect temperature. Azriel handed you your coffee, and you took a large sip before looking at him.

“You aren’t going to join me?”

Azriel smiled and shook his head. “No, princess, this bath is all about you. I took one just before I woke you up. Drink your coffee, sweetness,” he said, tilting the cup toward your mouth again.

You do as he says again, even though your mind is fighting against it. He had asked that you try, so you would try as hard as you could to enjoy it.

And really, with your body warmed inside by coffee and outside by the luxurious bath Az had drawn for you, it wasn’t too hard to like it so far. Especially once Azriel started to wash your body with a soft cloth, taking is time to massage out any knots in your shoulders and arms. You always were tense with your healing work.

But all of that stress melted away with your mate’s gentle hands cleaning your skin.

When he finally pulled you out of the bath, he dried you off with a fluffy towel, pressing soft kisses all over you. You were feeling sleepy all over again, and just wanted to crawl back into bed with your mate.

“Alright, baby, we just need to get you dressed and then I’ll start breakfast.” Azriel went to the closet and pulled out a lavender wrap dress with short sleeves, another item that you had admired while shopping before. It was buttery soft as Azriel pulled it over your head, and it fell to right above your knees. You felt beautiful.

Azriel brought your slippers over to you, helping secure them on your feet.

“You look even better in this than I thought you would, sweetheart, though I don’t know how that’s possible.” You blush at his words, holding your arms out for a hug. He wrapped you in his arms, squeezing you tight against his chest. He’s so warm, and smells so good. His night chilled mist and cedar scent lulled you into a daze, your eyes glazed over when you met his after he pulled away from you slightly.

“Hello, gorgeous.”

“Hi,” you say back, your voice quiet.

“You doing good?” He asked as his hand caressed your face gently. You could only nod, so at peace and in the moment with your mate. A smile breaks across his face, and he tightened his arms around you once more before he disentangled himself from you.

“Come on babydoll, you can watch me make breakfast,” he said, leading you into the kitchen. He picked you up and set you on the island counter across from the stove.

He pulled out two wrapped packages, a carton of blueberries, and a bowl covered with a lid, then grabs three frying pans out of a cupboard.

"What's for breakfast?" You ask, resisting the urge to kick your feet as they hang in the air from your place on the island counter.

"Pancakes, sausages, bacon and some fruit, my love," Azriel replies, placing a kiss on your forehead when he turned to look at you.

"Do you need any help?" You ask out of habit.

While Azriel does take care of you as much as you allow, it has been hard kicking your old habits of always offering to help, any way to make your eventual suffering easier on you.

"No, sweetheart, I just need you to sit there and look adorable. Can you do that for me?" Azriel requests as he unwraps the sausages and puts them in a pan, then does the same with the bacon.

You sigh. Doing nothing? That's difficult. "I can try, Az."

"Good girl." Now that sent a thrill through you, and put a smile on your face. In the past couple of years you had noticed how much praise had begun effecting you, especially from the lips of your mate.

Azriel began making breakfast, pouring some of the batter he had made before waking you up into one of the pans. He places some blueberries onto it, being more careful with them than usual.

Az could feel your eyes on him, and turned to look at you. "Yes, love?"

"You're being careful with the blueberries," you state.

"Yes I am. I'm making smiley faces in the pancakes, sweetness."

You smile widened, the idea of it was so cute. "Smiley faces?"

"Mhm. I figured I would even make your breakfast cute, Y/N. After all, you're so cute you deserve to eat cute things too." His words sent blood to your cheeks, and your legs started kicking gently in the air.

Azriel returns to the stove, dutifully cooking until he hears you make to get off the counter. He whips around and holds your hips in place. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I... I wanted to help."

He kisses your lips, cheeks, then forehead. "You are too sweet, mate. I have everything under control, I promise. Just stay here and eat some blueberries, okay?" He hands the carton to you, and you pout slightly as you toss one in your mouth.

Azriel turns back to the stove, ready to get the food finished so he can pay more attention to you again.

In a few minutes, he's plated everything and brought it to the table, including a bowl of fruit from the fridge, before returning to you. He picked you up, carrying you over to the table as you giggle in his arms. Azriel gently sets you in your chair, then takes the seat next to you, scooting his chair over so that he's right next to you.

You go to pour some syrup on your pancakes- the smiley faces are pretty adorable- before a hand stops you, taking the bottle from your grasp. "Hey-"

"I told you, sweetheart, that you don't have to do anything today. That includes pouring your syrup and cutting your food." Az pours a generous amount on your pancakes, just the way you like them. He cuts a bite for you, and brings the fork to your mouth.

You look between the bite of food and Azriel, raising a brow.

"Open up, babygirl." His gentle tone coaxes you to give it a try, and you let him feed you the bit of pancake.

The blueberries are just the right amount of sweetness, the pancake itself thick and fluffy. Your eyes close for a moment as you chew, and when you open them Azriel has a soft smile on his face.

“Is it good?”

You nod your head. Azriel’s pancakes are one of your favorite foods he makes, always so delicious and fluffy.

“Good. Open wide,” he said as he brought another forkful to your mouth.

The pattern continued, Azriel taking bites off his own plate while you chewed yours. Before long you were full, turning your head away from the last bite of sausage Azriel was offering you.

“You full, babygirl?”

“Mhm, it was a lot of food, Azzie.” The nickname slipped out of your mouth without you even thinking, a sure sign you were relaxed and happy. “This is nice, so far,” you admitted.

Azriel’s face split into a grin, a rarity on his face, though it was becoming more and more common in your presence. “I knew you would like it, Y/N.” He kissed your forehead, then stood up from the table and offered you a hand. You take it and let him pull you into the bedroom. “Now, we are going to go shopping. But, with the weather, you need to wear a little more than you are now, cutie.”

He went to the dresser and pulled out a pair of white woolen tights, and turned back to you. “Sit down on the bed for me.” You do, and he goes to his knees in front of you. He takes off your slippers, then shimmies the tights up your legs until they’re all the way on your hips. “Perfect, sweetheart, you look so adorable in these. Do they feel warm enough to go out into the snow?”

“Yes, I think I will be warm enough. But I’m not sure I have a coat that will be good enough, though…”

Azriel chuckled. “I got one for you specifically for today, but I hope you will wear thicker coats more often. I hate to think of you walking in the cold in just a light jacket when I’m not here, sweetheart.” He pulled you up from the bed, leading you to the entryway closet that he opened, grabbing a puffy white coat that looked like it would go down to your mid-thigh.

You extended your arms without him prompting you, which made him smile again. He slipped the coat onto your arms, buttoning it up methodically. He then grabbed a pair of fluffy white snow boots which you slid your feet into, letting him lace them up for you. He pulled on his own coat, which he let you button up when you gave him a pouty look, then put on his own boots.

“Just a few more things, baby.” He wrapped a light pink knit scarf around your neck, making sure to cover as much skin as he could with it, leaving it loose in the front in case you felt like pulling it over the bottom of your face. Then he slipped matching mittens onto your hands, pressing a kiss to the top of each one beforehand. And the last was a matching hat with a pink puffball on the top. He fit it snuggly onto your head.

“You should wear a hat too, Azzie,” you point out. Especially if it was snowing, you didn’t want your mate to catch a cold. He merely smiled and shook his head at you, grabbing his own black hat and gloves from the closet.

“You worry about me so much, sweetie. I was always going to wear a hat, it’s been snowing since I woke up, after all.” He tapped your nose with his pointer finger, then leaned in for a kiss. It was so gentle and sweet, a perfect kiss if there ever was one. Then again, that was all of their kisses.

The two of you left your home, Azriel locking the door behind you. There was a thick layer of snow on the ground, most likely four of five inches deep.

Azriel grabbed your hand and began leading you down the street that would take the two of you to the Palace of Thread and Jewels.

The snow made the trek take longer than usual, but with your mate’s warm hand encasing yours, you didn’t mind at all. The two of you passed a few shops before you made it to your first destination, a bedding store that the two of you had come to in the past.

He brushed the snow off of your hat and shoulders, the pulled you into the shop.

“Now, sweetheart, I want you to remember to follow your instincts, pick out whatever you feel drawn to, okay?” You nodded your head; After all, the day so far had been amazingly comforting, the caring presence of your mate doing so much to relax you.

He let you wander around the shop, following closely behind you with his shadows swirling around your feet. You paused in front of a shelf of throw blankets, your eyes catching on a blush colored one.

Reaching a hand out, you went to brush your fingers on it before realizing they were still clad in mittens.

“Here, sweetness, let me take that for you,” Azriel said as he removed the mitten from your hand, leaving it free to brush against the blanket.

“It’s so soft,” you breathed. You turned your head over your shoulder to look at Azriel. “Can I get it?” Your voice was shy, still nervous about choosing cute things for yourself.

“Of course, princess. You can get anything you want, today and every day.” He picked the blanket up and held it in his arms. “Keep looking, there’s a lot more you haven’t seen yet.”

You followed his suggestion, walking further into the shop. Your eyes lock onto a sapphire blue pillow, fur all along the top side of it. Your ran your fingers through it- so silky smooth, you just needed to have it. “This too, please,” you whispered to Az, and he licked that up as well. The two of you looked through the rest of the shop, but nothing else caught your interest strongly enough to linger near it. Azriel gently led you with a hand on your back to the counter, placing both items on it.

“Did you find everything you needed?” The clerk asked as he wrote out the total on a receipt, crediting the purchase to your joint account.

“Yes we did, thank you,” Azriel replied, squeezing your hand in his.

“Were you needing a bag at all today?”

“No, thank you, we’ll be fine without one,” Azriel said, grabbing the pillow and blanket off the counter and leading you back to the entrance. Before you stepped outside, he handed the items off to his shadows, letting them carry the goods back to your home. He also pulled your mitten out of his pocket and slipped it back onto your hand.

You left the shop, heading further into the Palace. A few doors down, Azriel opened the door to a clothing store, ushering you inside.

Without prompting, you began to explore the store. This was one you had only looked into from the windows on the street, deeming the clothes, as lovely as they are, too feminine and cutesy for your daily life.

But once inside, you couldn’t help but pick out a decent number of outfits, taking them to into the dressing room to try on, Azriel waiting outside.

“Show me each one that you like, sweetie,” he requested, taking a seat in the chair meant specifically for this purpose.

You do, showing him a halter top and skirt set in a gorgeous blue that matched his siphons near perfectly. “This is perfect, love,” he praises you, pulling you by your hips to him. “It’s so sweet when you match me.”

You giggle softly, placing a kiss on his lips. “I definitely want this one.” You spin your hips, the skirt flaring out attractively from where it had rested at your mid-thigh. “It’s fun to move in,” you say, happiness in your voice.

“Good. Go try on some more, babygirl.”

A few outfits later, and you only found one other piece of clothing you wanted at the moment. It was a shade of pale pink with long, flowing sleeves that came down to the tops of your fingers. The hem reached yours knees, the skirt of the dress separated from the bodice by a matching ribbon at the waistline. The ribbon tied into a bow at the back, something that you would normally never wear out, let alone pick out to try on. But, Azriel had wanted you to try, and it was honestly easier than you had thought it would be to follow your instinctual taste.

You opened the curtain, and Azriel’s jaw dropped open- the only other time that had happened in public was your wedding and mateship ceremony.

“You look…” he paused, and your doubts started creeping in. “You look so, amazingly beautiful sweetheart, like a true angel brought to this earth to bless my life.” He stood up from his chair, scooping you into his arms and twirling you around, causing you to loose a giggle.

“I love this one, it’s so perfect. I feel like a princess,” you say after he sets you down, a wide smile on your face.

“I would have bought it anyways, just for the slightest chance you ever even thought of putting it on again.”

You change back into your clothes, letting Azriel redress you in your outerwear. He brings your two outfits to the front counter, once again handling the interaction for you as you leaned into his side. It was nice, not having to worry about any of the minutiae that went with shopping.

He pulls you out of the shop, a large bag in his hands which he keeps in his hand instead of sending off with his shadows. The two of you make your way over to the Rainbow slowly, enjoying the slow snowfall.

“In here, sweetheart,” Azriel says, guiding you into an art supply shop. “I have something specific in mind for you.”

“Oh? What is it Az?”

“Right here,” he says, extending a hand towards a set of ink pots, neatly packaged together in a wooden box with a glass lid.

“Inks?”

“Yes, I thought you could use something that’s easy, a bit mindless to do when you have free time. I asked Feyre what she thought about an ink set with a few books of drawings to fill in with color, and she thought it was the perfect idea for when you want to do something with your hands, but you don’t want to focus or think. It also comes with quills that are enchanted to return the ink to its pot when you hold it over the correct pot again, that way you won’t have a problem switching between colors… What do you think?”

You thought about it. While it did feel a bit… childish to color in pictures, the idea of having something simple to do when you’re tired but restless would be nice.

“That sounds nice, Az. Do they have books I can pick out here?”

“Yes, they do. They’re over in the back right corner, I’ll meet you over there in a second sweetheart.”

You wandered off into the direction he guided you, finding the selection of coloring books fairly quickly.

One instantly caught your eye, a collection of different creatures found in the Night Court, drawn in a cuter way than they appeared in person. You grabbed that one, and another of plants found in the solar courts.

Azriel came up behind you, placing a kiss on the top of your head, through your hat. You turn around to look at him and held the two books out for him to take, which he did.

“Did you want any others right now?”

“No, I think two will be enough for now. We can always come back again if I want more,” you said, and Azriel’s face softened before he kissed you.

“Alright, I’ll get this paid for and then we have one more stop before we’ll get some tea.”

In a few minutes, the two of you were leaving the shop, another bag in Azriel’s hands. The next shop he led you two was just two doors down from the art supply one, and it was a store you had considered going into every single time you had come to the Rainbow.

The windows were filled with various stuffed animals, plants, and fae. There was a whole half of a window dedicated to Illyrians, all fitted with differently colored siphons, though three you could tell were based off of your mate and his brothers.

That was one of the reasons you had always wanted to enter the shop, having a small miniature Azriel to keep you company while he’s away on long missions and the bond is quieted by the distance.

Azriel drags you inside, taking you over to the display holding the Illyrian plushies.

“Did you want one of me, babygirl?”

Color flushed your cheeks, and you bury your face in his chest before nodding.

“Did you want this small one? Or did you want a bigger one, one that’ll be enough to snuggle while I’m gone?”

“…Both?”

A chuckle vibrates through Azriel’s chest. “Both it is, baby. Go ahead and grab the small one, and look at the other options while I get the larger one ordered, okay?”

You grab the small miniature of your mate, then walk slowly towards the counter in the back of the store that Azriel was standing at. You pick up another plush, this one is your favorite flower, and join him at the counter.

“That will be ready in a week or so, Shadowsinger. We will send a note to your home, informing you when it is ready to be pick up. Ah, are these the other purchases?” The clerk asked, taking the plushies from your arms after you nod in confirmation. “Perfect, I will just grab you a bag, and you two are all set. Have a lovely rest of your day,” she says kindly, giving you a warm smile as she hands the bag to you.

Azriel guides you out of the store with a gentle hand on your lower back, and takes the bag from your hand once you’re back in the winter weather.

“How does tea sound to you, love?” Azriel asked, still leading you with that comforting hand.

“Something warm would be nice.”

He leads you to a tea shop that is decorated in soft pastels and smells heavenly, most likely because of the large case of baked goods that instantly drew your eyes. The two of you approach the counter, your eyes passing over every dessert in the case, lingering on a slice of strawberry cake and an adorable cookie, decorated with pink frosting and in the shape of a fox, it’s features drawn on in black frosting.

Azriel talks with the fae at the counter, but you aren’t listening, only looking between the slice of cake and the cookie, trying to decide between the two.

“Anything catching your eye, love?” Azriel asks softly into your ear, startling you from your thoughts.

“Oh, um…” you try to make a decision between the two, but your brain isn’t working fast enough.

“We can share a few, if you want more than one,” Az suggests gently, and when you point out the two items you want, he knows he found your dilemma.

“We’ll have a slice of strawberry cake and one of those pink fox cookies, please,” Azriel says, ordering for you and pressing a kiss to your head.

“But what about the tea-?”

“I already ordered some, love. Come on, let’s go take a seat.” Azriel pulls you to the side of store with a large fireplace, something you hadn’t even noticed when you walked in. He removes your coat, setting it on the back of a chair, then gently pushes you down onto it.

At this point, you feel like all you can do is follow his lead, so relaxed and in the moment that you don’t even want to make decisions.

Azriel sits in the seat next to yours, scooting as close as he can to you like he did with breakfast. He takes each mitten off of your hands, then removes your hat, smoothing out your hair after he sets it down.

Between the fire roaring in front of you and his wing covering your back, you were so warm and cozy you thought you might even be able to take a nap here.

“How are you doing, baby?” He asks lowly in your ear, wrapping an arm around you as well.

You rest your head on his shoulder and close your eyes, something you usually would never do in public. But Azriel is so warm, and smells so wonderful. And he’s here, keeping you safe. Even from prying eyes, with his massive wing blocking you from the windows leading to back to the streets of the Rainbow.

“Perfect,” you sigh, melting further into his shoulder.

The fae who took your order comes over with a tray, a teapot, two teacups, and two plates with the desserts you picked out on top of it. You keep your head where it is, too comfortable to move, even if it means showing that to someone you don’t know. She sets all of the items on the table, pouring out tea for the both of you. “Enjoy,” she says with a smile as she walks away.

The two of you sip your tea, a sweet floral blend that you can’t quite name, but you suppose that doesn’t matter too much. Azriel feeds you bites of cake and the cookie slowly, taking his own every now and then.

You nearly fall asleep on him once the desserts are finished, so content in this moment you don’t want to move.

“Alright, princess, let’s get home for a little bit before dinner.” You groan, pushing further into his shoulder. “We can snuggle when we get home, princess.” That gets you to move, the thought of being snuggled together under your new blanket on the couch at home. You turn to look at Azriel, who has a fond look on his face.

“What?”

“You’re so cute, love.” He kisses you, then stands up and grabs your coat off the back of your chair. Your face scrunches as you stand, not wanting to leave the warmth of the fireplace behind either, but you let Azriel redress you in your winter clothes, smiling when he kisses you again. He picks up your shopping bags, the guides you out of the tea room, thanking the fae before closing the door.

The two of you make your way back home slowly, the snow even thicker on the ground now that you had spent another hour indoors.

Near your home, along the Sidra, you spot an untouched patch of snow, and pause in your tracks.

“What is it, love?” Azriel asks you, stopping and looking at you, then glancing to where your eyes were locked on to. “Oh, did you want to make a snow Illyrian, princess?”

You bite your lip, then nod your head. Azriel merely secures your hat further down your head, and checks to make sure that your mittens are still covering your hands. “Go for it. By tomorrow, all of the snow will have been trampled, sweetheart.”

You hesitate for a moment, thinking about what other would think of you being so childish-

No. You were going with your instincts today. Besides, hardly anyone was out no about today, and there was no one on this side of the Sidra to stare at you. And Azriel was here, he would keep you safe. So you got down on the ground, repeatedly moving your arms and legs in their full range of motion.

You had always wanted to do this as a child, but even on the times you were let out of the mountain during the winter, you had been kept on a tight leash.

But now, with your mate? You were free to do whatever you wanted, as he had proved time and again throughout your relationship, and so many times today alone.

You stop once you feel you’ve made enough of an impression on the snow, and Azriel reaches a hand down to pull you up. You take it, then step back into what you believe to be the road and glance back at your creation.

It’s cute, though it looks nothing like Illyrian wings, but you suppose that doesn’t matter much.

“So cute Y/N. But let’s go now, I don’t want my sweet little mate to catch a cold.”

The two of you make your way back to your front door, and Azriel unlocks it before ushering you inside.

He strips you of your outerwear before taking his off, and you beeline for the couch in the living room, where your new blanket and pillow are already waiting for you.

“Before we snuggle, princess, you should change out of your dress,” Azriel suggests, and you groan in protest.

“But I want to snuggle right now,” you say impatiently.

“I know, love, but it will only take a moment to change you into something different sot that your dress doesn’t get too wrinkled before dinner.”

You sigh then follow him into the bedroom. He deposits the shopping bags onto the bed, pulling something out of the bag from the clothing store, one that you didn’t recognize.

It was a sleepwear set, a tank top with a bow resting in the middle of the neckline, a pair of shorts, and a set of knee high socks, all in a pale blue.

“When did you pick that out?”

“While you were trying on all of those clothes. I thought I would pick out some to give you as a surprise princess, after all, it is your birthday.”

You approach the bed and peek into the bag, and see that it is mostly full, pastel sets of underthings on every shade of the rainbow.

“Do you want to wear one of the sets now?”

You pull one out, a bralette and pair of panties in a pastel pink. “This one,” you say, presenting it to him.

He sets the clothes down on the bed, then strips you of the clothes you’re wearing. You let him redress you in the new clothes, loving how soft all of the fabrics are, Azriel having shopped for your comfort as well as a softer look than your usual attire.

“You look so adorable in those, baby,” Azriel says, his voice soft and sweet as he puts the socks on you, then your slippers.

“Thank you, Azzie. I really like these, they’re so cozy,” you say, running your hands along the tank top. “Can we cuddle now?”

“Yes, sweetheart. I do have a couple of reports I need to write first, it shouldn’t take more than an hour, but I’ll have you rest your head in my lap, if you would like.”

Your lip slides into a pout, you wanted to cuddle with him now.

“I know, sweetheart, but I’ll be quick about it, okay? And you can hug one of your new plushies while you wait for me to finish.”

“Fine…” you agree, fishing the plush that resembles Azriel out of the bag and clutch it to your chest while you follow Azriel back into the living room.

He sits down on the couch, patting his lap in invitation. You follow him, curling up on the couch and resting your head on his lap, sighing when he settles the soft, blush pink blanket over your body.

Papers rustle as Azriel’s shadows bring him what he needs to complete his work, but your eyes are already closed. One of Az’s hands begins to card through your hair slowly, and you let out a quiet purr at the sensation.

Within a few minutes, you had drifted off to Azriel’s soft touches, quiet breathing, and the gentle scratch of a quill on paper.

💙🤍💙🤍💙

You were woken by Azriel shifting beneath you, attempting to move to lay down underneath you without waking you. You open your eyes, turning your head to look at him.

“Hello, beautiful. I’m all done with my reports, now it’s time for us to snuggle together,” He says gently, moving your body so he’s now laying on his back, you pulled over him, your head resting on his chest. You kick your legs against the edge of the blanket, managing to get it over Azriel’s feet with a bit of work. You let out a deep breath once you have, sinking down into Azriel’s warm body.

You fall asleep again in a few minutes, now soothed by the sound of his heartbeat steadily thumping in your ear.

💙🤍💙🤍💙

Part 2

(tumblr's stupid 250 text block limit cut it off like a page and a half before it was done)

[reminiscingtonight]

Hoodie ;)

I've already done a blurb for this but I actually loved it so much so I thought why not do another one

Hoodie Blurb II:

It was a fool proof plan.

There's this one particular hoodie of hers that you've taken a liking to. It's one of Leah's original pieces of clothing that she got when she first signed for Arsenal all those years ago. So it's sentimental to her in a way.

So for course you wanted it for yourself.

No matter how many times Leah takes it back, not matter how deep on her side of the dresser she hides the worn-down, ratty looking thing, it somehow always ends up back in your possession.

So Leah rolls with it.

It comes to her as a late-night thought. As she's watching your peaceful form sleeping so soundly next to her Leah knows she wants you to be hers. For good.

You're off having lunch with Steph when she does it. Having just done the laundry, it's one of the rare times you've left the hoodie to Leah's care. So slipping the tiny box into the front pocket, Leah carefully folds the hoodie back up, making sure to take extra care to plop it closer to your half of the drawer when putting it away.

When she grabs a pair of socks the next day, Leah's happy to see the piece of clothing gone.

Now all she has to do is wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And wait some more.

It isn't until the third day has passed and you still haven't said anything about her engagement ring that Leah musters up the courage to say something.

"Babe, have you seen my favorite hoodie?"

"Nope." you pop the 'p,' not even glancing away from the television. But the smile playing on your lips tells Leah you know exactly where it is.

"Well I'm cold. Do you mind finding it for me?"

If anything, you seem to relax into the couch some more, propping your hands up behind your head. "No can do, sweet-cheeks."

Leah narrows her eyes at the pet name. "Muffin-buns, why not?"

At that, you look up, not able to keep a straight face at her choice of words. "'Muffin-buns'?"

"Would you prefer 'honey butter biscuit cheesecake pie'?"

It's quiet as you stare at Leah. Leah does nothing but stare right back.

The silence only lasts three seconds before you're both howling, laughing at the ridiculous pet name.

Clutching her stomach, Leah's wiping away her tears when you shove hard at her shoulder.

"'Honey butter biscuit cheesecake pie'? Baby, why?"

Leah muffles her snort into your hairline as you snuggle into her side, scoffing under your breath about how much you hate her. Here Leah only feels her love for you grow. This is the type of afternoons she wants to have for the rest of her life. Wrapped up around you, swapping jokes and laughter. Leah's heart beats for you and only you and she wants you to know it.

Before Leah can bring up her hoodie again however, you beat her to the punch.

And she instantly feels the ice settle in her veins.

"Katie was shivering after practice today so I let her borrow it. She said she'd return it tomorrow though!"

.

You've long passed out on the couch, the tiredness of today's training catching up to you. Slipping away into the guest bedroom, Leah closes the door shut before pulling out her phone.

To her relief, Katie's contact picture lights up the screen before she has a chance to press call herself.

"Katie--" Leah starts... Only to be interrupted by a loud, angered Irish accent.

"Mate! Of all of the places in the world, why would you hide your goddamn ring in your stupid little hoodie?! Caitlin nearly passed out thinking I was going to propose when I pulled it out! And then she cussed me out when I told her it wasn't mine!"

Leah cringes. "In my defense, (Y/N) was not supposed to loan you out the hoodie."

There's a slight pause on the other side of the phone. And then a sharp sigh. "Please don't tell me this was you plan for proposing to (Y/N)."

Leah bites her lip. "Okay, I won't."

"Leah!"

Send me a fic title

[shattereality]

Ferally possessive Eirik.

TW: NSFW! sexual content!!

What Would Make Eirik Jealous:

Other men—even baselines—looking at you too long. Especially if they dare to smile at you, flirt or act even a little too familiar.

Another Astartes speaking to you with interest. Even if it’s innocent, Eirik’s instincts go haywire. His little Blank? His mate? Not for anyone’s eyes but his.

You praising someone else. Like, if you casually say “Oh, that scout is very skilled,” you will feel his mood instantly sour.

You being too busy to immediately greet him when he returns from missions. How dare anything distract you from your wolf?

How Eirik Shows His Jealousy:

Body Language

His whole body goes tight. Muscles flexing. Shoulders squared, chest puffed up.

His golden eyes narrow into slits—dangerous and hungry—focusing entirely on you like you’re prey.

His lips pull back just slightly to show a hint of fang.

Touching You More Aggressively

He grabs your waist when he passes you, pulling you sharply into his side.

Stands directly behind you, his massive hand on your hip or thigh, just to make it very obvious you belong to him.

Low rumbles in his chest that you can feel against your back.

Snarling and Silent Glaring

If someone’s bothering you? Eirik steps between you and them without a word, staring them down with a snarl barely held back.

No threats. No words. Just silent death promise radiating off him.

Reactions to Jealousy:

Cornering You

After the offender leaves, he pins you against the nearest surface—wall, tree, his own armor—it doesn't matter.

“You are mine,” he growls into your neck, biting gently just enough to make you shiver. “Say it. Tell me who you belong to, little flame.”

Rough, Hungry Kissing

His kisses get desperate. Bruising. Teeth scraping your lips.

Hands everywhere—gripping your thighs, your hips, your hair—trying to claim every inch of you.

Marking You

He leaves bites and hickeys on your throat, your collarbones, anywhere exposed.

Growls low as he paints your skin in bruises that scream you’re taken.

Bends you over anything convenient, hands huge and heavy on your hips, panting against your ear.

“I'll make sure no one ever doubts again who you scream for,” he snarls before utterly ruining you.

Between every heated thrust of his body against yours, he’s muttering filth into your ear.

Aftercare:

After he’s thoroughly, thoroughly claimed you, he carries you to the baths or your bed, purring deep in his chest.

Cleans you gently, murmuring apologies for being so rough—but his lips still curl in satisfaction every time he catches sight of the marks he left.

Extra:

If anyone ever even thinks about bothering you again, the entire fortress knows.

Because they saw Eirik storm past reeking of sex, hair a mess, covered in fresh scratches and bites, smirking like he just won a war.

Scenario: Jealous Eirik—Devours You While Standing

The moment that poor fool flirted with you, it was over. Eirik’s patience shattered like thin ice under his boots.

He didn't even speak. He just scooped you up—a massive blur of motion—and carried you deeper into the fortress, ignoring your gasped protests and the startled looks from passing Wolves.

His eyes burned. His breathing was heavy. Hungry.

When he finally stopped, it was in a dark, secluded alcove, stone walls damp and cool against your back. Eirik set you down—no, pressed you—against it.

He impatiently shed your clothes, fabric tearing apart easily.

“Now, little flame. I am losing what little control I have left.” he growled, voice rough like gravel.

You blinked down at him, stunned, you tried to protest.

In seconds, he, with terrifying ease, hauled you up.

Massive hands gripped your thighs, hoisting you so that your legs instinctively clenched around his neck.

Eirik stood there, all brutal muscle and towering power, holding your entire body weight like it was nothing.

And then—

—he began to feast.

Hot breath ghosting over sensitive skin.

The first broad, slow lick made you cry out, clutching at his hair.

He rumbled a pleased growl deep in his chest, the sound vibrating through you.

His tongue was relentless—teasing, tormenting, working you open with slow, devastating strokes.

His nose pressed against you, his mouth sealing perfectly where you were dripping for him, lapping greedily as if starved.

You were at his mercy, hips bucking, whimpers spilling from your lips.

He just held you firmer, one hand supporting your back, keeping you right where he wanted you.

And every time you tried to move, to squirm, he gave a warning growl against your core, sending shockwaves through your already trembling body.

“This taste... only for me,” he rasped against your skin, voice muffled.

When you finally came in his mouth, crying out his name, Eirik didn’t stop.

He just groaned in satisfaction and kept going, as if he meant to wring every last drop of pleasure out of you until you were completely wrecked.

Only when you were sobbing from overstimulation, clutching at his hair for mercy, did he finally slow—pressing sluggish, worshipful kisses to your thighs.

And all the while, your legs trembled, knees buckling around his broad shoulders, his body strong and steady beneath you like an unmovable mountain.

When he finally stopped, Eirik lowered you to his chest with ease, grinning wolfishly.

His chin was glistening with your essence, he wrapped your utterly drained and sated form in his fur cloak and carried you to your shared quarters.

Lesson learned.

[wosoimagines]

Courage of Fools - Alessia Russo/Reader

prompt: R always orders flowers on Fridays for Alessia since they're long distance. One Friday, Alessia doesn't get a delivery.

warnings: none

words: 2096

“Come on, Less!” Leah called over her shoulder at the younger blonde who had been trailing behind checking her phone. “We’re at your house, mate. You’re the one who’s got to let us in.”

Alessia, however, wasn’t paying attention as she was checking the text messages that she had received while she was in practice today. But there was nothing from the one person she was hoping to have one from.

Alessia’s day had started out abysmally. After all she had been missing her person for weeks now. It had made her move to Arsenal a bit rough as she had to adjust to an entirely new team and home and the one person who was supposed to be here to go through it with her just had to be back in Los Angeles. She was getting radio silence from you all morning as well, but she didn’t let it get to her with the time difference and everything. You must have just fallen asleep before you sent Alessia a text to wake up to; it didn’t happen often, but it had happened before. Besides, it was Friday and that meant flowers.

Only when she opened the door, there were no flowers to greet her at the door like there normally were. The tradition had started when she had first moved back to England in late 2020. Her partner hadn’t been able to follow her. So Alessia had been pleasantly surprised to find the flowers waiting for her at her door that first Friday morning. But since then, Alessia always had a bouquet of flowers waiting for her at the door on Friday mornings whenever the two were apart.

Then, on top of that, Alessia had a horrible practice. She had been worrying all throughout the practice as to why she hadn’t gotten flowers that morning. Her mind immediately assuming the worst. But surely, if you had been injured then she would have been called. Maybe you met someone else, and this is how you breaking up with her then?

So, she had a horrible practice.

There were still no text messages from you either.

And, of course, Alessia had to offer up her place for the girls to come and hang out at once practice had wrapped up. But that had been before she didn’t get her flowers on Friday morning.

That’s why she was the last one to the door as her new Arsenal teammates had gathered on the porch waiting for the blonde striker to let them in to the house. Alessia slightly fumbled with the keys as her mind was still distracted. Maybe if she hadn’t been so distracted, she would have noticed the extra pair of shoes in the closet that definitely hadn’t been there this morning when she had gotten her own pair out.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” Beth finally asked.

Both of the elder lionesses had been quite aware that something else was affecting Alessia’s mood for the day, but neither of them could help the young striker if she didn’t open up to them. After all, Beth and Leah had promised each other that they would take care of Alessia once she joined them at Arsenal; same as they did for Lotte.

“She’s probably just missing (Y/N),” Lotte teased her friend before she started making kissy faces.

Alessia rolled her eyes as she shoved Lotte away. Lotte knowing of your and Alessia’s relationship since she had to unfortunately watch the two of you pining after each other for nearly two years before either of you had made a move on the other while you three were in college.

“(Y/N)?” Leah repeated the name. She shared a look with Beth as they settled onto the couch. Neither of them had ever heard Alessia talking about someone that she was involved with. “Who’s (Y/N)?”

“No one,” Alessia said a bit too quickly.

Alessia loved showing you off, but the two of you had been keen on keeping your relationship private. Alessia wasn’t sure how much privacy the two of you would have once her national teammates knew. It was bad enough when Tooney had caught the two of you while filming for her vlog because then Alessia had to convince her friend to delete the footage that she had.

“Lotte, who’s (Y/N)?” Leah asked as she turned to her fellow defender.

Lotte froze at that. She was quite aware that the two of you preferred privacy and Alessia had already refused to tell Leah and Beth about you. But it was Leah, and she would force Lotte to run extra the following day in practice and Lotte knew it.

“Just someone from college.”

“Just someone from college?” Leah asked. Her eyes darted between the two younger players. “But obviously someone who means enough if Alessia’s in a bad mood.”

“It’s none of your business,” Alessia snapped. She really didn’t want to deal with this, especially seeing as the two of you hadn’t gotten the chance to talk about finally introducing you to her teammates.

“Lessi, we just want to be able to help you,” Beth said softly. Alessia trained a glare on the other forward. Alessia knew that Beth and Leah were coming from a good place, it just happened to be at one of the worst times for her. “We can’t help you if we don’t know what’s going on.”

Before Alessia had a chance to say anything back, the four were frozen as the doorknob rattled behind them. Leah was absolutely certain that she had locked the door behind her once she entered the house.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/N) POV

I faltered slightly once I caught sight of more than just Alessia in our living room. Considering Alessia’s Mercedes was outside, I knew that she was home, but I hadn’t been expecting her to have company. After all, I had been hoping to surprise her.

“(Y/N)!”

Lotte was the first one to get over the shock of seeing me as she barreled into me for a hug. I had to admit, it had been far too long since I had seen the defender. After all, she and Alessia had ended up at different clubs after they left UNC for the WSL, and I had spent a majority of my time with Alessia when I was able to visit.

I didn’t have time to rest because as soon as Lotte was out of my arms, Alessia was jumping in them. I stumbled back a couple of steps as Alessia wrapped her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere for a while,” I softly said before I pressed a kiss right under her ear.

Alessia stayed where she was wrapped around me for a few more moments, but I was becoming increasingly uncomfortable due to the audience we had. Had it just been Lotte, I wouldn’t have minded, but we did have a couple of Alessia’s other teammates here as well.

“I thought you forgot,” Alessia admitted once she unwrapped herself from me and took the flowers from my hands. I groaned as I rubbed my shoulder once she punched it after looking at the bouquet for a moment. “Or that something bad had happened, asshole. You didn’t text me and they weren’t waiting for me this morning.”

“I can’t surprise you?” I asked, causing Alessia to shake her head. Alessia did like to know my schedule so she knew when she could call me, but it often meant that I had to pay attention to her schedule as well or else she would forgo sleep just to talk to me all night. “We wrapped up recording yesterday morning. I called Richard down at Leaf in Peace and let him know that I wouldn’t need the flowers delivered this morning and that I’d come by so I could pick some out for you myself. Caught a red eye, dropped my bags off here, and then went to get the flowers.”

“You could have told me you were coming.”

I only shrugged at that as my gaze turned to the older two players in the living room who were watching us. I shuffled past Alessia to hold my hand out to the two.

“I’m (Y/N).”

The two only stared at my hand before turning to each other. I was about to drop my hand, but the taller blonde grabbed a hold of it before I could. I was a bit surprised when she pulled me closer to her.

“Hurt our Less and we’ll hurt you,” the taller one said. I quickly nodded my head in understanding. Honestly, she was a lot scarier than Mario had been when he threatened to hurt me if I ever treated Alessia wrong. “Even the slightest hint‒”

“Leah!” Alessia cut the woman off and she got in between us to try and push us apart. “Let (Y/N) go.”

The taller blonde, Leah, I assumed, still had a tight grip on my hand.

“Leah, let go. Now.”

Leah didn’t until the other blonde grabbed the back of Leah’s shirt to pull her back. I slightly winced as I rubbed my hand.

“Are you okay?” Alessia asked as she took the hand that Leah had been holding to look over it. I sent her a soft smile as I nodded. The handshake really hadn’t hurt that bad. Or well, if it did, Alessia would never know that. “The bitch is Leah,” Alessia ignored the gasp from the blonde who had just been shaking my hand, “and the other is Beth.”

“Meado?”

“Oh, so you do pay attention to me when I tell you about my teammates.”

“Give me some credit. I’ve learned a lot about soccer since I’ve met you.”

“Football.”

“Whatever.”

“So, when’s the album coming out?”

Alessia and I both looked over at Lotte who was watching us. I shrugged because I wasn’t entirely sure. I had only just finished recording it, but that didn’t mean that it was ready to be available for the world to listen to just yet.

“I get to listen to it first, yeah?”

“How’s that fair? I’m the girlfriend!”

“Yeah, but I’m the matchmaker!”

I rolled my eyes at the two of them as they continued to bicker about which one of them would get to hear the album first. All three of us knew that it would be Alessia since there was no way that I wouldn’t be playing the songs for her once we were alone.

“You’re a singer?” Beth asked. I turned to look at her before I nodded. I had gotten a record deal during the pandemic and had finally started my music career. “You have an album coming out?”

“No release date yet,” I admitted to her. I actually loved to talk about my music to others especially since most of it was about Alessia. “There’s still quite a bit of work to do for it. We really just recorded acoustic versions of what the finished songs will be.”

“Are you using Alessia just to get famous?”

Lotte and Alessia both stopped their argument at the question. I knew that this would be something that some would think, especially early in my own career.

“Leah!”

“It’s okay, Lessi,” I said as I wrapped my hand around Alessia’s wrist so that I could pull her close to me. “It’s a fair question considering we’ve kept our relationship a secret for so long and you are one of the best strikers in England right now.”

“No, it isn’t,” Alessia said, as she turned from me to glare at Leah. “Just because Leah has no idea that we’ve been dating since college doesn’t give her the right to ask if you’re just using me.”

The room grew tense as neither Alessia or Leah refused to back down from the other.

Ultimately it was Lotte who broke the silence.

“So, what’s the album about?”

I grinned as I looked over at her.

“What do you think?”

“No,” Lotte groaned as I pressed a kiss to Alessia’s cheek. “Not a whole album of songs just for Alessia. Didn’t you write her enough while we were in college?”

“Lotte, the album is literally about us getting together,” I pointed out. I knew that Lotte was aware of what the album was about considering I had been working on it since college. “At least you named it.”

“I did?”

“Oh, yeah,” I nodded as Alessia threw a slight glare at me. “Courage of Fools. That’s what you said when we both finally tried to ask each other out, right?”

[starriestarlight]

Liam Mairi Headcanon

After a really really long time of debating on what to write for my blog. I'm finally putting out this short Liam Mairi HC. This is the first time I'm putting something out there, so I'm a little nervous even though it's just a small HC. I have a few actual pieces in the works, but for now hopeful you guys on the Fourth Wing side of this site enjoy this.

Disclaimer: This was thrown together super fast. I just wanted to put something out there to get past the hump of being scared to publish something. I apologize for any mistakes in lore and any grammatical errors.

xo starrie

Liam and you had met on Conscription Day, a similar meeting to Violet and Rhiannon’s. Like Violet, you had been forced by your parents to enter the Riders Quadrant to continue the family’s long line of riders. To say you were scared shitless was an understatement.

He had been behind you in line and had noticed your shaking hands as the two of you neared the Parapet. Being that golden retriever boy, he reached out and comforted you, and the rest was history.

Liam was grateful when you had been placed under Xaden and Garrick’s leadership. The two of you were inseparable, but due to the difference in sections he had asked his friends to keep an eye over you when he couldn’t be there.

And keep an eye over you they did. Xaden was the first to notice the way your cheeks rivaled the red scales of Deigh. Bodhi and Garrick loved to ruffle Liam’s feathers by placing their arms around your shoulders. Even Imogen had grown fond of you and took you under her wing during training. Liam was their family, and it was clear to them that Liam saw you more than just a friend.

The Marked Ones weren’t the only ones to notice either; your squad mates were just as bad with the teasing. Ridoc and Sawyer loved to tease Liam about you during lectures. Their favorite way of making him jealous, was squeezing to sit between the two of you during lectures or taking the extra time to train with you during sparring lessons.

For some reason everyone found it extremely amusing when Liam’s puppy like expressions turned murderous due to the jealously that formed when it came to you.

Violet and Rhiannon often shared knowing looks whenever a carved wooden figurine appeared on your pillow. Liam gifted everyone wooden trinkets, but everyone knew that you received the most. The carvings ranged from your childhood pet to your dragon.

While your bunk had become a menagerie of wooden figures, Liam’s had turned into a mini garden. Basgiath didn’t have gardens, but you had spotted a few patches of wildflowers during flight training. For every figurine that Liam had carved, you had picked a small bunch of flowers to happily reciprocate the gift.

The teasing you got from your dragon was the worst. Ever since Threshing, she had picked up on the forming bond between you and Liam. Her comments ranged from innocent observations to absolute filth that made your whole body blush. Oh look Liam left you another gift. Your Liam is staring at you again. Stop staring at him and kiss him already. For fucks sake human shove him in a room and fuck him already.

You weren’t sure if Deigh had been teasing Liam like your dragon had been teasing you, but after an intense sparring session which felt like some sort of foreplay you actually listened and grabbed his shirt and kissed him. Right on the sparring mats, with everyone in the Fourth Wing grinning like fools.

Before you started dating the two of you were inseparable, but now the two of you were basically melded at the hip. If your bunk was empty during the night, everyone knew to check Liam’s to find you, vice versa. The sight of you and Liam holding hands and making out had become a regular thing to see in the Riders Quadrant.

No one even questioned it when the two of you came out from behind an empty classroom door or closet with tousled hair and flushed expressions.

At least you didn’t wake everyone up with thunderstorms in the middle of the night.