#g is having revelations (barely)

[mysaintkitten]

What does it mean if I suspect I’m a lesbian but I’m still attracted to (some) men but I don’t like them as people … thinking 🤔

[aeyumicore]

━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: caleb x female reader (afab) ━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, possessive caleb, dom!caleb, light choking, use of gege ━ .ᐟ✧ A/N: a smol lil study into how i will write caleb <3 just wanted to explore it a bit. this is very short, just had a brain worm i wanted to itch. expect more of these small blurbs because i have so many ideas for caleb that can't possibly all make it into full fledged fics.

The first time Caleb fucks you, he does everything humanly possible to ensure you can’t hold back your moans. No–he didn’t wait his entire life to have you like this, just for you to keep those pretty little cries from him. 

Nope–he’d earned them. They were his. You were his.

“Princess, I want to hear you,” he groans, fingers digging bruises into the soft skin of your hips. His muscled chest is pressed firmly into your back, leaving absolutely no distance between you, him, and the wall. He only tries to hold you closer, tighter. 

“Angh–! No! T-Too loud,” you whimper, arching back so you can lay your head onto his shoulder and look up at his sparkling amethyst eyes, reaching your hand backward to grasp his sweat-dampened neck. “Someone will–hah–hear.”

“You’re such a brat, baby,” he grins cheekily down at you, a smile you knew all-too-well. One you’d grown up seeing frequently, coming to both adore and abhor. A smile that meant you were absolutely in for it. No mercy.

He leans down to brush impossibly soft, fleeting, kisses along your shoulders, across the blades, and down your spine. A jarring contrast to the way his pelvis slams into you so bruisingly that you have to push your palms against the wall to keep from banging violently against it.  

“Don’t make me ask again,” he murmurs, one hand snaking up your chest to wrap around the base of your throat. With his other hand he delicately brushes your hair off one of your shoulders, letting his fingers tenderly graze the ridges of your spine along the way and reveling in your shivers. 

He bites the inside of his cheek as your bare skin lays exposed before him. Your back, your shoulders, your neck…The amount of times he’d imagined you like this–and now it was a lucid reality laid before him. The forbidden fruit finally in his arms.

Another kiss, this time to your nape. A gentle squeeze to your throat, just enough to have your core clenching in excitement at just how much you know he’s holding back.

“Be a good girl for me, yeah?”

You’re about to refuse–unwilling to alert anyone in the house as to what you and your dearest Gege were up to, locked away in your childhood room. But it’s impossible as, in the years Caleb had spent  fantasizing about having you like this, it seemed he’d already discovered every conceivable way to make your body submit to him. To make you irrevocably his. 

“Oh God–! Caleb–mngh, please!” you moan when he drives himself straight into your cervix, nestling into your g-spot like he never wants to leave your sweet little cunt again.

His Adam's apple bobs thickly at the saccharine sound of your pleas, his hips snapping into you particularly harshly, as if urgently trying to pull that same cry from you again. His name.

With a ravenous growl, Caleb spins you around by your wrists, pinning both of them up with just one of his impossibly large hands. He restrains them above your head, his forehead pressed against yours as he cages you in with his thick bicep, forearm resting flat against the wall, sweat-dampened bangs prickling your eyelashes.

The fingers of his free hand are splayed out against the small of your back, the sheer size of his palm allowing him to cup your lower half into him, driving him deeper into you.

You’re face to face with a near fervent Caleb whose lilac eyes had shadowed into a deep indigo maelstrom that reflected darkness you’d never seen of him before. A blackhole of desperation, torment, longing. 

Possession.

You felt like you should be terrified.

And maybe you would be–if you hadn’t wanted him for so fucking long.

You almost don’t recognize his voice when he speaks next. Gone was the boyish charm and playful lilt you’d come to expect of your precious golden retriever Caleb.

“Fuck–say my name again.”

© aeyumicore 2025.

.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.

✧.˖ i do not permit translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or others. please do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own.

[riseatlantisss]

Careful, he bites

Pairing : Astarion x female!reader around 900 words.

morning sex. in bed. with the most amazing vampire. that’s it that’s the plot ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

TW : 18+, shameless smut, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, tiny bit of fang kink

I love him a completely normal amount

You open your eyes slowly, savouring the blissful, heavy fog of sleep that still weighs on your mind. The voice that greets you is one you’re sure you’ll never tire of.

“Good morning, my sweet”, Astarion whispers against your ear. The bed smells of night-blooming flowers and cold winter air, just like him. His body is a comforting spoon, the nice coolness of his powerful chest sends shivers down your spine.

Your eyelids are still heavy and with a smile, you settle back in and bury your head in your soft pillow, eager for just a few more hours of precious sleep before starting a new day in the underdark.

Astarion, of course, has other ideas. He exhales and you can feel the light puff of cold air against the back of your neck. Icy fingers skate down your bare arm, dragging the strap of your night gown with them. He dips his head and nuzzles the junction of your neck and shoulder. He toys with the hem of your night gown before slipping beneath it to caress the curve of your hip. You revel in his low groan of appreciation as he discovers you’re wearing nothing underneath.

“Gods, the things you do to me,” he growls, voice muffled slightly as he breathes your scent. “Let me take care of you.”

Wordlessly, you nod and he wastes no time. He gives you a sloppy, hungry kiss that is all tongues, teeth and fangs, and then slowly lowers himself. His fangs leave burning trails across your skin, and you love every bit of it.

You can feel his erection grow next to your thigh and you raise a hand forward to touch him but he grabs your wrist and stops the motion. 

“No, darling,” he grins, “it is all about you today.”

“But –” your attempt to argue is cut short as Astarion disappears between your thighs, wraps his wet lips around your clit and starts sucking. You let out an unbelievably loud whimper of pleasure and he smirks against your body.

Pinning your thighs apart, he works his tongue in an up-and-down motion on one side of your clit and then the other. You grind into his mouth shamelessly as his tongue continues working its magic. Without interruption, he slips first one finger, then two inside you, and pushes them up against your G-spot. You’re already starting to see stars as you feel his fangs settle in the soft mound of flesh above your clit. He applies just enough pressure for it to deliciously sting without ever hurting. Those tiny pinpricks combined with the sucking of your clit and the impossible rhythm of his fingers inside you made you cry out.

“Astarion – I’m– “ you try to articulate between two heavy breaths.  

“I’m right there with you, my love,” he mutters and presses his fangs slightly deeper into your skin, as to urge you to stop fighting the wave of pleasure trying to make its way through your shivering body.  

His tongue slips across that one spot on the tip of your clit that always sets you off, and suddenly you are coming on his mouth, grasping fistfuls of his silver hair and moaning and moaning and moaning. He pushes his fangs deeper and deeper into your skin as he rides out your orgasm with you, using his free hand to hold your hips steady. Your core spasms longer than a pulsing heart, each beat making you thrash helplessly on the bed as he pushes his fingers deep. ​​He waits until you come down from your high before slowly sliding his two fingers out of you and into his mouth to lick them clean. The rest of the world begins to come back into focus but you do not care for it. You only have eyes for him.  

​​"You are absolutely exquisite when you come," he chuckles in that ridiculously arrogant way he has.

He licks his lips as he rises, expression as lazy and smug as a contented cat. You haul him up and into your arms and kiss him hard. He wraps his strong arms around you protectively and takes a moment to listen to your breathing, still shallow from the love explosion. He finds infinite comfort in the repeated rise and fall of your chest. It proves to him that you are real, safe and here, right next to him. 

Before you, Astarion had never known true bliss. Sex – even when it’s mindblowing – doesn’t fix the part of you that’s broken. Good sex soothes, but doesn’t cure, and Astarion, who’s been using sex as a valium substitute since he’s been free from his former Master’s control, knows it better than anyone. But with you, it’s not just sex. It’s safety. It’s intimacy. It’s respect. And it’s all he’s ever wanted.

[sukumna]

⊹₊⟡⋆ notes; downwards dog with miya atsumu

triggers. fem!reader. creampie. dubcon. non-consensual cheating. squirting. fingering. not proofread or edited bc why not

Atsumu hid around the corner, watching your ass rise as you shift into position. The thin black leggings stretch taut over your curves, the sunlight making them practically see-through. His cock twitches when you move again, giving him the perfect view of your bare, puffy pussy. No panties.

Fuck.

Rubbing at his rapidly hardening length, he stays hidden, eyes locked on you as you cycle through your routine. His breath hitches when you lift into downward dog, then slides lower into another stretch—chest pressed to the mat, arms extended forward, legs slightly spread. You have to be doing this on purpose. You must want him to fuck you senseless, to fill your tight cunt right here, where anyone could see. That’s the only reasonable explanation for flaunting your body in broad daylight.

Atsumu steps out cautiously, careful not to alert you. You’re still in the same position when he drops down behind you, pressing his leaking cock against your ass.

You flinch, starting to turn, but he moves faster—grabbing you by the neck and shoving your face down.

“Baby?” you ask, confusion lacing your voice.

He grinds against you, the heat of your pussy making his head spin. You instinctively push your ass back into him.

“I thought you said we couldn’t do it out here… that the neighbors might see.” You try to lift your head, but Atsumu shuts that down with a hard slap to your ass.

He doesn’t give a fuck what your husband thinks. If the neighbors catch him fucking his twin brother’s wife, so be it.

You inhale sharply, wiggling your ass as he soothes the sting with a firm squeeze. Yanking your leggings down, Atsumu nearly loses it at the sight of your glistening folds. He wants to bury his face in you, but there’s no time—your actual husband could be home any second. Instead, he spreads your lips in a V, then shoves two fingers inside your tight, needy hole.

You clamp down like a vice, moaning into your baby-pink yoga mat.

“Harder!” you whine, rocking against him.

He smacks your ass again, making you yelp, then drives his fingers into you—curling up to slam against your g-spot. You want hard? He’ll make sure you feel him tomorrow.

“M’gonna come—please don’t stop!” you cry out, legs shaking as he pushes you over the edge.

Atsumu barely has time to pull his fingers out before his cock is free, throbbing in his fist. Giving himself a few quick tugs, he lines up and slams into your still-spasming pussy.

You whimper, nails digging crescent moons into the mat.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he grunts, gripping your hips tight—just enough to hold you in place without leaving marks. Pulling back until only his fat tip remains inside, he slams back in, sending a sharp cry ripping from your throat.

“Oh my god—” Your voice breaks, eyes rolling back. It’s too good. The stretch, the risk, the sheer filth of it all—your body can’t handle it. Tears slip down your cheeks as he pounds into you.

Your husband fucks you good, but not like this.

It must be because you’re outside, the danger of getting caught heightening everything.

Atsumu grits his teeth, watching your ass bounce against him. He smacks it again, reveling in the way you jolt. He used to listen to you moan like this on his brother’s cock, and now—finally—you’re his.

“Feels so good, baby—m’gonna cum, don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

You push back against him, trying to match his ruthless pace. Your pussy tightens around his cock, milking him, dragging him toward his own release.

He’s close—so fucking close. The lewd, wet sounds of your bodies colliding send him over the edge. He groans, burying himself to the hilt, spilling deep inside you.

“M’gonna breed this tight pussy.”

“Yes, yes—” You sob into the mat, convulsing as another orgasm crashes over you. Your slick gushes around his cock, dripping down your thighs.

When he pulls out, your legs give out entirely.

But Atsumu’s not done yet. He needs to clean up the evidence. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he scoops his cum from your swollen cunt and shoves his fingers into your mouth.

“Swallow.”

You do. Again. And again. And when his fingers return to your overstimulated pussy, curling into your g-spot for the fourth time, you squirt all over his chest—then black out.

—

When you wake, your leggings are back up, and Osamu is bringing in groceries. He wraps an arm around you, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips.

You frown. “Why’d you leave me outside like that?”

Osamu gives you a confused look.

“I just got home.”

[jesuistrestriste]

cw : fingering, coming untouched (18+)

—

art donaldson is an empathetic lover.

he feels what you feel, regardless of how much stimulation his own body is getting. just watching you melt and sink into a milky bath of pleasure is enough to have his head swimming and his cock swelling. it’s more than enough.

so he’s perfectly content with laying you down in bed every night after he’s stripped you bare, your skin a canvas for his lips and teeth and tongue, and hovering above you while he begins thumbing your bundle of nerves. when your brow pinches up and you let out a soft squeal, his brow pinches too. he mimics your body involuntarily—reflexively. his jaw slacks when your lips part, and he starts to moan with you. his breathing syncing with yours as he rocks into the inside of his zipper.

he slides two of his fingers into you soon after and begins curling them upwards to play with that warm, spongy spot nestled in your walls. he keens when your back arches up and he leans forward to press his face into your neck. his free hand cups the back of your head.

“are you gonna come for me?” he whimpers, “i want you to come, baby.. you’re so wet f’me..”

and a nod from you is all that it takes for him to start properly abusing your g-spot, pushing his digits in to their knuckles as he feels your hole convulse around his touch. gushes of your essence fill his palm and he wants nothing more than to pause and drink it, slurping and lapping it from the bowl of his touch like a man dying of thirst, but he knows you’re close. he can wait.

your trembling hips begin to stutter and grind against his movements as he uses his thumb to resume playing with your sensitive bud, circling it under his fingerprint. his gut is brimming with thrums of heat just from smelling and hearing and touching you like this.

fuck, it’s always enough.

he nips at your neck, and then he hears your strangled cry echo out into the room just before he feels you clamp down on him. your hands scramble for the back of his tee shirt and fist it as you find your release; hot, exhausting, overwhelming, almost too much. he’s hit with his own not a moment later.

“oh god—“ he whines, his pelvis jumping as his dick twitches and gushes in his clothing, his fingers relentlessly working you through your climax.

art keeps it up until you’re boneless and shaky on the sheets, your body only moving to jerk with overstimulation when his touch swipes over your spent clit. he loves pulling back to watch you revel in the afterglow. you’re something straight out of a poem. an ocean after a hurricane. a field after the first kiss of rain in months. a volcano after eruption; suffocating smoke and impossible heat.

he moves his free hand from your head to your stomach, caressing down it as he pulls back from your core. shushes you tenderly when you whimper from the emptiness.

he’s fine with doing this every night, and he never asks for anything in return.

why?

because it’s all he wants.

and you give him everything he needs.

[sagi-tori-ous]

Older Boyfriend Price always gave you what you wanted, listened when you complained and was always patient with you.

Older Boyfriend Price knew when you wanted something but didn't know how to ask—it's when you started to get a little bratty...okay! maybe that was an understatement, you could be a full on brat.

You always got bratty when you wanted affection from him, you felt as if he should be giving it to you 24/7 anyway. You'd huff and pout, let tears stream down until you got what you wanted.

Older Boyfriend Price always knows how to resolve the issue, after all you were his brat.

The rough pads of Price's fingers, slick with your arousal, rub against your throbbing clit with vigor—Head lolled back, thighs spread wide and hips rolling to the rhythm he settled into.

You could feel Price's meaty cock nestled just between the lower part of your back and ass as you sat atop his lap.

"Oh~" Your moans are breathy, hitching ever so often as he keeps up such a consistent pace.

"Why y'running?" Price asks when your hips slide up—flinching when two fingers dip into your dripping entrance, wasting no time in curling up to directly come in contact with your g-spot.

"Right there..." the question unintentionally ignored, your mind focused on how Price massaged your spongy walls with such precision and speed.

Your legs push you farther into Price's naked lap and you shuffle your head into the crook of his neck as that familiar feeling in your abdomen builds feverishly.

Price's left hand finds your neck easily, wrapping his sizable hand around it whilst you chase your orgasm.

You could feel his gaze occasionally switch between your pleasure ridden face and drenched cunt—though you wouldn't dare to look at his rugged face.

You knew the hungry gaze that adorned it, you knew how fast that look would have your pussy gushing with a release, the thought alone had whines spilling shamelessly out of your mouth.

The tremor that was set in your legs was almost comical, but the action of closing said legs alongside your glazed eyes was laughable.

Price would never let that slide, you knew that.

"keep em' open." You ignored his command—intentionally, hoping to just revel in the feeling.

"not tellin you again." You knew the bite he had in his tone left no room for discussion.

You barely crack your eyes open, tears pricking the corners as your stomach starts to cave—unintentionally you lift your gaze to meet his, eyes already trained on you as he takes in everything you have to offer him.

Price dips his head to leave a firm kiss on your lips, suckling on your bottom lip briefly before letting go, " f'cking brat." His tone low and guttural, the mischievous gleam in his eyes evident.

" my f'cking brat." He clarifies.

Click me→ 🩵

𝐃𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬: @deunmiu-dessie

𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬/𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫: @cafekitsune @pwixi

[pearlahearts]

Kinktober Day 6 - Zhongli

pairing | zhongli/fem!reader

warnings | smut, breeding/pregnancy kink, relatively softcore, aftercare 🩷

zhongli + breeding/pregnancy kink

in all his years of living, all his past relationships, zhongli never though he’s be a family man. Never thought he’d have an opportunity or an interest in a family

but here he is, pounding into you with a passion with hopes of breeding you.

his cock is rock hard inside of you, pressing into your g-spot with every harsh thrust.

he’s made you cum twice so far, working desperately for your third orgasm and his second of the night.

he’s got your legs over his broad shoulders, his face so close to yours he can feel your every pant. he can see every pore and beauty mark on your face.

you’re so beautiful.

you’re the perfect woman for his children.

he can’t wait to see you swollen and glowing with his children.

just the thought has him pounding harder and deeper inside you, filling you up past your limits.

the thought of you bearing his children unleashes a deep, primal urge inside him. to keep fucking you and filling you up until he’s absolutely positive he’s impregnated you.

and he has every intention of doing so. 

he presses hot kisses onto your mouth moving them down your neck leaving little red marks in their wake. 

you moan at the combined feeling of his kisses and his cock pressing deep inside of you. you can feel your release nearing.

the way your stomach clenches and your heart starts to race even faster, you both know you're close to the edge.

zhongli reaches one of his hands down to play with your clit, alternating between quick swipes and drawn-out circles over it.

the touches over your clit is the final push for your release. it's not as intense as your other ones, but just as pleasurable.

your release drips down onto the sheets of your bed, joining the remains of your previous orgasms.

zhongli revels in how beautiful you look when you cum. the way your eyes shut and your perfect lips drop open to let you low, tired moans. you glow with the way that the sweat on your face and body shines from the sunlight coming from the window.

the feeling of you clenching around him has him drawing near to his own orgasm.

his whole body tenses as he releases inside you, his hips still inside you, pressing deep, filling you up. he's sure he's impregnated you now.

you both moan softly at the feeling of him filling you up. it's warm. it's comforting. you don't look forward to the sticky feeling when he pulls out.

he stares at you for a moment as he catches his breath. your eyes are barely open, he can tell he's worn you out.

carefully, he pulls out of you, taking your legs off of his shoulders. you groan lowly at the feeling of your legs being released from their stretch and the way his cum drips out of you.

it's hard for zhongli to not get hard again at the sight of his seed dripping out of you. but he resists. he's worn you out, and now it's time to relax and recover.

against your unconvincing protests, he get you out of bed, into the bathroom, and onto the toilet so you can pee. he starts a warm bubble bath for you to relax your sore muscles.

he walks out of the restroom to grab a book to read to you while you take your bath. as he tries to pick a good book, he can't help but imagine this scenario, but you have a swollen belly and tender breasts, and he can't help but smile.

after he picks a book, he makes his way to the bathroom, ready to ready your aches and worries away.

copyright © pearlahearts

do not copy or repost my work anywhere

[noctiva]

I was reading your post about toby being into cockwarming, while reading it I just got an idea of Toby also enjoying the risk of secretly doing it while others are in the room. I love high thoughts

MEOWWWW yea he WOULD do that actually.

toby LOVESSSS risk, like he gets off on that shit. likes fucking you without a condom when you’re not on birth control, likes hooking up places you could easily get caught, totally the type to finger you under the table at a restaurant or some shit like that lol so YES

I’m imagining…. hmm maybe a little proxy get together? house party of sorts? everyone else is milling about, but Toby’s got you on the couch in the corner - sat on his lap, and you’re wearing a skirt that fans out over his thighs, providing the perfect amount of cover.

you can feel him, have been feeling him for awhile now, getting hard beneath you - the bulge in his jeans slotted between your ass cheeks, not so subtly pressing up against you every now and then to get a little more friction. hands on your hips, keeping you right where he wants you, his chin resting on your shoulder.

and it doesn’t take long until you’re letting out a shaky breath, nudging your hips back a little - a taunt, or an invitation? Toby’s falling bait to either.

“F-Feel that, baby?” He’s murmuring right next to your ear, pressing you down a little more - revelling in the way your shoulders tense up a little. “All for you.”

Then he’s pulling your hips down again, a lazy, barely noticeable grind. Not enough to be picked up by a less than keen eye. Just gently nudging his hips up against your ass, barely there movement that still proves to stoke a fire inside you. “You’re drivin’ me n-nuts and you aren’t even d-doing anything.”

“Toby..” You’d breathe out, shooting him a warning look that really doesn’t mean a thing at all. “There’s people.”

“I kn-know that.” Toby snickers, nosing his way into your neck - letting out a soft little grumble when you press down against him just right. “You really think they’d n-notice? I don’t.”

“You’re fucking crazy.” But you’re already feeling that familiar heat inch down to your core. Already thinking about it. Already looking around the room to see if anyone’s keeping an eye on the two of you.

“Duh.” Toby snorts softly, one of his hands stealthily sneaking under the hem of your skirt. Warm, calloused skin pressing against your thigh - mere inches from the source of all this heat. “I won’t make a scene. J-Just want you to sit on it. Can you do that?”

How are you supposed to say no to that? How could you even dream about it, when that sinful request is whispered in your ear - his voice all soft and gravelly, just barely cracking under the weight of his desire.

“We have to be careful-“ And that’s all he needs to hear. Tugging you close so that your back is flush to his chest, he’d slide his hand back - quietly and carefully unbuckling his belt. Keeping himself hidden under the shroud of your body, chuckling under his breath when he gets his cock free and you can’t help but gasp.

“We won’t g-get caught, baby.” He assures you softly, gently tugging your hips up enough to let him swipe the tip between your folds. You’re already wet. So damn perfect for him. “Not if you k-keep still, and quiet.”

One hand on your hip, the other keeping himself lined up as he slowly presses in. Letting out a shuddering breath against your neck, his eyes fluttering as he finally gets what he’d been needing all night. He sinks you down onto him gently, carefully, rubbing soothing circles against your hipbone when he feels you start to tremble.

The fabric of your skirt acted as a curtain, falling over your lap and his - disguising just how close you really were. “L-Look at you.” As he nestles in further, his hips coming flush with yours, his hands pushing you downwards to make sure you’re nicely seated. “Takin’ my cock so well in front of all these p-people.” He’s whispering into your ear, punctuating his words with a soft nip to your earlobe. “Barely even made a p-peep.”

His arms would come to circle around your waist, his face nuzzling into your neck as he leans back further into the couch cushions. Getting nice and comfortable. Letting out a pleased little hum that rumbles from his chest and vibrates against your back. “S-So warm.”

You only let out a shaky hum in response, it’s all you can muster up. You know that the moment you open your mouth, the internal war you’re waging would be make clear. You’re already clenching your teeth to hold back little whimpers from the feeling of his cock throbbing inside you, like it’s trying to coax out movement from your hips. “Don’t worry, I’ll fuck you p-proper once we’re all alone. Just be good for now, yeah?”

And if there’s one thing you know about Toby, it’s that he always makes good on his promises. So, you nod. You lean back against his chest, let out a shaky little breath, and close your eyes - grounded by the feeling of his hair tickling your skin.

This was going to be a long night.

[hgfictionwriter]

Revelations: Part Four

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie's family stops by for a visit and you feel the divide growing bigger. You're at a loss for how to reconnect, but try - misguided or not.

Warnings: G!P smut. Angsty, emotional smut. G!P penetrative sex. Hand job. Shower sex.

A/N: The rest of the series is here. The emotions in the story are messy. Reader is very hurt and doesn't know how to move forward. Jessie's trying to make everyone happy, including and especially Reader, but doesn't necessarily know how to do that.

"It's so good to see you, sweetie."

You returned Jessie's mom's smile as you reciprocated the sentiment and hugged her back before hugging Jessie's dad and sister.

Her parents and sister dropped off their things at the hotel they were staying at nearby and had just arrived at your and Jessie's apartment.

You proceeded to exchange pleasantries with them; something that was very easy, they were always so warm and welcoming from day one and you felt like a member of their family even before Jessie placed a ring on your finger.

This time felt different though. You tried to not get too lost in your thoughts, but you couldn't help but keep coming back to the reason they were here in the first place.

It wasn't to help with wedding planning. It wasn't just to visit and say 'hi'.

They were here to meet Zoie. And Sara.

Their grandkid - and niece - and the woman Jessie shared her with.

You did your best to smile and act normal. Like this wasn't still killing you inside.

They talked about the agenda and the logistics of their visit. When they were meeting Sara and Zoie. Where. Was Jessie still sure the gifts they brought okay? There was much to sort out and verify and you really had nothing to add. How could you? It wasn't your child they were meeting. Jessie was the one who knew Sara's schedule, not you.

So you smiled and nodded along as though you were just as much a part of this as anyone could be and like it was old news. That all of this was totally fine and so were you.

And as Jessie held your hand and smiled at you as she talked, it was as easy as it could be.

It was harder to pretend when her family talked to you one on one.

"So, how are you doing?" Her mother asked as she came up to you in the kitchen while you poured waters for everyone. You immediately clenched your jaw and swallowed before catching yourself, practicing your smile as you filled the last glass before looking up at her.

"I'm doing okay," you said as brightly as you could. As much as you wanted to act normal, saying you were 'great' would've been far too much a reach for anyone to believe.

She reached out and laid a warm hand on yours, giving a light squeeze as she offered you a small smile that immediately almost brought tears to your eyes. You laughed quietly and turned away to put the water filter in the fridge, trying to compose yourself in those few seconds.

Your eyes flit over to the diamond ring on your finger as you held the fridge door open. You were the one with the ring. You were the one she wanted. You repeated these affirmations in your head and took a quick breath before turning back around.

"It's a shock for everyone," her mom spoke gently as you returned. "I can imagine it hasn't been easy to navigate."

You held her gaze, but you wanted her to stop. You didn't want to talk about this. You were barely hanging on as is. And having her look at you with this apologetic expression - or maybe it was pity - it was just too much to bear.

"It's alright," you said with a forced smile. "It's a lot for Jessie, too. And she's been great about things - now that I know." Your chest twinged in residual anger at how she hid everything from you, but you pushed past it. "She's been really thoughtful and considerate even though she's dealing with so much herself."

You cleared your throat.

"Um, and yeah, Zoie's wonderful. She's so much like Jessie in some ways, it's uncanny," you said with a quiet chuckle. You held your smile steady. "You'll love her."

Her mom smiled and reached out cupping your cheek warmly and just took you in for a couple of seconds. You felt tears starting to burn behind your eyes. You tore yourself away with another forced laugh and gathered two of the glasses.

If she noticed your burgeoning emotions, she made no comment of it.

What was hardest of all though was when you all went to meet with Zoie and Sara at the playground.

Just as before, you did your best to fit in. To be pleasant and warm as you watched her family interacting with her daughter. You stood there quietly, feeling so out of place as they smiled and hugged Jessie's ex, getting to know her, laughing and seeing her be welcomed in as well.

It was a beautiful thing; a family so loving and open, and such a contrast to how bitter and dark you felt in the midst of all of this warmth and new connections.

It wasn't about you. You kept telling yourself that over and over as you felt your mood and mental state sinking lower and lower to no avail. You felt so frustrated with yourself that you could cry. While everyone was getting to know one another, playing and running around, you berated yourself repeatedly for how you just couldn't get on board. Why couldn't you just be happy like everyone else?

No, you were too selfish. This little girl was discovering a new family. After years of missing out, was now being showered with love and affection from the family she should've had from day one. And somehow, pathetically, you just felt sorry for yourself. It felt like you weren't meant to be here. You felt insignificant and like you didn't belong anymore.

"Are you good?"

Jessie's inquiry pulled you from your thoughts. You wanted to snap at her - immediately upset that she was even remotely aware that perhaps you were anything but perfectly okay. You caught yourself.

"I'm good," you promised with a reassuring nod.

Again. It was not about you right now.

She gave you a sweet smile and grabbed you by both hands, gently pulling you towards the action and further into the group. Your heart both melted and ached, and you let her pull you either way.

--------

"We'll be back soon, okay?"

Her parents said as they hugged you both goodbye a few days later.

"And you'll set up a video call with all us and Zoie and Sara for next weekend, right?" Her dad asked. Jessie nodded patiently.

"Yes, dad," she laughed.

"K, just making sure," he said in a joking manner.

You were hugging Elysse when her dad's hushed voice caught your attention. You glanced out of the corner of your eye to see him pulling Jessie aside.

You remained focused on Elysse, but discretely strained to hear what Jessie and her dad were discussing.

"...it's okay...don't worry about it...consider it our gift to you both..."

After her family drove off and you and Jessie went back upstairs to your apartment you watched her quietly. She was acting entirely normal. You were much more vigilant about her behaviour now after everything, but she seemed fine.

Before, you would've assumed if there was something worth telling you, she'd tell you. It was hard to feel confident about that again so quickly though.

"What were you and your dad talking about at the end there?" You asked as she began preparing lunch.

She paused briefly and your senses went into high alert.

She looked over at you, seemingly gathering her thoughts.

"Um, my parents are gifting us part of the venue costs for the wedding," she said in what you imagined she aimed to be a nonchalant way. You frowned at her.

"I thought they were paying for decorations," you said.

She continued pulling things out of the fridge.

"Yeah, they are," she said simply. You frowned further at the back of her head.

"I don't get it. Didn't our last payment for the venue go through already?"

You saw her taking a deep breath before she responded, "Yeah, it did."

You exhaled gruffly, irritation settling in your chest over her simplistic responses.

"So - what's going on?" You asked, tone growing sharp. She took another deep breath and put down her utensils to face you. She folded her arms in front of herself.

"I-" she paused, her expression shifting to an apologetic look that you'd become far too familiar with in recent times. A lump formed in your throat immediately.

"I had to borrow some money from them for my part of the last payment," she admitted, gaze dropping to the floor for several moments before she braved a look at you. She took a step forward, talking eagerly - desperately - now. "It was supposed to be temporary. It's just with the timing of that last payment...with the lawyer fees, and child support, and everything, I didn't have a lot readily available. I have it, you know that, it just wasn't liquid so...I asked my parents."

Your blood was boiling and yet again, you felt a wave of guilt come over you at how ashamed and upset Jessie looked over this confession.

"Why the fuck wouldn't you tell me?" You nearly hissed.

She exhaled roughly, her shoulders slumping as she mustered a response. "I felt terrible! You were so hurt and upset with everything already. You've made so many concessions and you've been so supportive already - I couldn't add this. This was mine to deal with; I didn't want it to affect you."

"Well guess what - every fucking thing you do affects me! So yes, when you have a kid with someone else and you have to pay a shit ton to lawyers, pay child support - including offering to help her pay for her move up here," you added seethingly, "and then can't pay for parts of our wedding. Yes - it impacts me. Fuck, Jess."

Jessie's eyes were still downcast and she frowned harshly as she withstood your reproach.

"You should've told me. We could've figured it out together," you said, tone quieter this time. "I'm so sick of you lying to me. This has to stop."

She closed her eyes. "I just didn't want to push you any more. I know you're dealing with a lot already."

"I'm your fiancée, Jess. Your partner. I know things are tense right now. Delicate. But we have to be able to trust each other," you berated her.

"It wasn't about not trusting you," she said with an imploring look, "I just don't want to hurt you - disappoint you - anymore." She took a breath as she took your hands in hers. "And I've got things sorted now. I was ready to pay my parents back, but my dad isn't letting me. Hence the gift."

You shook your head as you looked away feeling tired and drained.

A few seconds passed and she was about to speak again when her phone buzzed on the counter and her screen lit up. Sara.

You ground your teeth together and heat coursed up through your body.

"Your ex is texting you," you said flatly as you dropped your hands from hers.

Jessie sighed wearily and reached for your hands again, but you stepped aside.

"She's not my ex," she told you in frustration. "Not the way you're thinking it." You scoffed and shot her a hard look.

"No. She's the mother of your child. Which is far more significant," you said, silencing any kind of rebuttal Jessie might have had planned otherwise.

You retreated to the bedroom. Suddenly, the apartment felt far too small with no safe place for reprieve.

------

The next morning you stirred from sleep, opening your eyes to see, as usual, Jessie's side of the bed fully made. You could hear rustling out in the kitchen and you subconsciously let out a tired sigh as recollections of yesterday came back to you.

You laid out on your back and stared wordlessly up at the ceiling. The rest of the evening prior had been tense, but still ended with Jessie's arm wrapped around your waist as you both went to sleep in an unspoken truce.

As if on cue, Jessie gingerly opened the bedroom door and peeked inside. You made eye contact with her and she smiled, opening the door more fully with her shoulder and bearing two steaming mugs of coffee.

"Good morning, baby," she greeted with a soft smile as she rounded the bed and sat down next to you, offering you your mug. You sat up and took it from her, returning her smile. "Did you sleep okay?"

You shrugged lightly. "Yeah, I slept alright. How about you?" She shrugged much the same way you had.

"It was okay," she said, tone a bit down as she looked into her mug before looking back up at you. "I still felt off about everything yesterday. I'm really sorry."

You gave her a faint smile. "Don't lie to me again. I mean it."

She nodded readily. "I understand. I do."

She took a breath and cracked a half-hearted smile. You couldn't help but notice how her eyes betrayed her. "Think you'll ever forgive me?" She asked with what was meant to be a casual chuckle.

Whether she was being serious or not, you found yourself answer earnestly. You mustered up as much of a smile as you could. "I'm trying, Jess."

Her expression faltered and she let out a breathy laugh as she swirled the dark liquid in her mug. Her eyes shimmered as she met your gaze once again.

"What is it going to take? I'll do anything," she said quietly.

You sighed softly as your own eyes were now drawn to the mug in your hand while you processed her plea. You cracked a wry smirk as you looked at her.

"Well, not lying to me would be a good start," you said, but quickly moved on over the apologetic expression she gave you. Some other words swirled inside your mind and maybe if you hadn't just woken up you may have kept them to yourself. Instead, you spoke.

"I just want you to myself again," you admitted quietly, surprised at the emotion that rose to the surface so readily. "I miss you so much. And I miss us."

Jessie frowned and reached forward, setting down her mug on your nightstand and grabbing yours to do the same. She grasped your hands and inched closer to you.

"I'm here," she told you emphatically. "I'm still yours. I always have been. And I always want to be." You stared at her, looking into her glistening eyes. She moved closer and squeezed your hands. "I miss you, too. More than you know. And we're still 'us' - I still want everything with you that I did before." She released a quiet sigh. "I wish you'd let me in again."

There was something about this moment. The way she looked at you, the way she was opening up - searching for you - it felt soothing and it eased the aching loneliness that had been consuming you lately. You wanted more.

You found yourself leaning forward and capturing her lips in a kiss. You noted the mild look of surprise on her face as you closed in, but any uncertainty she'd felt seemingly melted away as she returned your kiss, allowing you to deepen it and she leaned into you furthermore.

Before you knew it, you were pulling her down onto the bed and she climbed on top of you, kissing you hungrily and your hands and hers wandered over one another in a growing frenzy.

You tugged her shirt off and she readily obliged, raising herself onto her knees as she peeled it off. Your eyes took in her glorious form, something you'd seen only in passing the past couple of months. Your eyes immediately fell to the growing bulge in her pants and you felt your core throb with want. It had been so long.

When you looked back up at her face, you saw how her eyes had grown dark with lust and need. Her hands roamed across your body like she was exploring you for the first time all over again. The tips of her fingers dug into your skin when she lost control and she was quick to remove all of your clothes, her lips kissing all across your skin as she rediscovered you.

"You are so beautiful," she whispered headily as she kissed up your torso and pulled you close. "I love you so much. You're the only one for me."

Your pulse was pounding inside your head as you pulled her the rest of the way up your body and into a heated kiss. You rocked your hips against her, feeling her hot, stiff member pressing against you. You could feel yourself dripping with need and you whimpered unabashedly in desperation. She nudged at your entrance and you could hear her breath hitch as her shoulders rounded out in tension.

"I want you inside of me," you commanded.

"Oh fuck," she said in a whimper of her own as her fingers dug into your skin and her back arched above you though she didn't enter you yet.

She released a huff as she pushed hard off the mattress and slammed open her nightstand drawer with urgency, pulling out a condom, ripping the top of the wrapper off with her mouth and hurriedly rolling it onto her cock and settled herself back on top of you.

Your stomach dropped at the action as the world outside of this moment came flooding back into your consciousness. It's not that you wanted to risk anything right now, but the condom was a painful reminder of the drama that had taken over your life as of late.

A small noise escaped you as Jessie slipped inside of your heat for the first time since all of this began. She groaned low in her chest and she held herself deep inside of you for several moments, her muscles taut before she began to pull her hips back and started to establish a rhythm.

Your arms were wrapped around the back of her shoulders and while you would normally be panting and moaning in pleasure, clawing at her as she brought you pleasure like no one else had, in this moment, you stared blankly up at the ceiling as she rocked and breathed above you.

"God, you feel so good," she panted as she thrust into you and buried her face further into your neck. You closed your eyes and clung to her as you tried to drive other thoughts from your mind.

You dug your nails into her skin and screwed your eyes close even tighter.

This was Jessie. This was the woman you loved more than anything in the world. The person you'd chosen, the one who'd chosen you. The person you wanted forever with.

The pit in your stomach persisted.

The sounds of her strong thrusts in and out of you filled the room and echoed loudly in your ears. It wasn't until her steady strokes suddenly slowed and faltered before stopping altogether, that you opened your eyes again. You blinked in confusion at the interruption. She remained inside of you, but now held herself up above you on her hands as she looked down at you with a concerned frown.

"A-are you okay? We can stop if you want," she said tentatively as she searched your face.

Something possessed you as she looked down at you with uncertainty and worry in her eyes. You reached up, pulling her down into a hard kiss and flipped the two of you over so you were on top, ensuring to not let her slip out of you as you did so.

You didn't break the kiss, instead kissing her with greater fervour as you began to rock your hips. Soon you raised yourself up so her tip was stretching your entrance out and dropped back down onto her, swallowing her hard cock to the hilt and immediately meeting her previous rhythm and even increasing it some.

Her hands gripped your hips tightly, her fingers digging into your skin and her head fell back into the pillow.

"W-we don't have to do anything," she managed to say, voice hitching with effort as she tried to blink through the haze of pleasure you were creating.

"Don't you want me," you whispered sultrily as you leaned down and tugged her earlobe with your teeth as you rode her hard.

She let out a high pitched whimper in your ear. It sounded like heaven to you and spurred on this strange self-satisfied sensation in your chest.

"Of course I do," she panted helplessly as she subconsciously rocked her hips up to meet your thrusts. Her fingers curled desperately into your skin and she added breathily, "I always do."

"Tell me I'm yours," you coaxed as you bounced on her length, relishing how her hips jerked up into you while she panted and moaned beneath you.

She groaned and reached up, pulling you down against her and holding you close while she tried to takeover your thrusts.

"You're mine," she said as she ran her fingers through your hair. You lifted yourself back up a bit to regain control of the rhythm and you smirked at how her eyes fluttered shut and she groaned once more. She let out a wanting breath. "And I'm yours." You saw her jaw flex and her head fell further back. "Fuck. I belong to you."

You placed your hands on your chest and continued to ride her, newly inspired by her proclamations. You couldn't help but be aware that in any other scenario, you'd have been cumming on her cock by now. Instead, outside of this empty satisfaction that fluttered inside your chest, you didn't feel anywhere close to a climax.

Her whimpers and moans began to grow in pitch and you knew she was close. She managed to open her eyes and look to you. She seemed to recognize that you weren't close and though she tried to hold on, she stood no chance and it was only a matter of time until her moan hitched in her throat and she pushed herself up as deep into you as she could as she spilled herself into the condom.

The satisfaction you'd felt moments before quickly faded as the heat of the moment wore off and soon you sat straddling her hips, quietly watching her as she softened inside of you.

Jessie had hardly come out the other side of her orgasm, when she moved, trying to coax you onto your back and offering to go down on you.

"Baby, it's okay," you told her though you allowed her to lay you down. You held her in place as she went to move down your body. She faltered.

"I want you to feel good too," she said with gentle, pleading eyes.

"I do feel good," you insisted and she let out a wry chuckle.

"Babe...," she said, "I know it's been a while..., but I know when you didn't cum."

"So what?" You asked, your face beginning to heat up under her scrutiny - intended or not. You tried to discretely duck your head into her shoulder under the guise of cuddling in. You hugged her to you. "I just want to lay here together."

You felt the indecision in her body, stiffening as she decided whether to push further or to just let it go. She eventually relaxed and laid down next to you while gently pulling you into her arms. She kissed the top of your head and you laid a kiss on her collarbone.

You kept your head tucked in as you stared vacantly down the bed, idly aware of how your limbs were still entangled. She squeezed you and kissed your head once more as her fingers grazed along your arm in sweet affection.

Sex with Jessie had always been incredible. Passionate. Loving. Intimate. Fun. And there were glimpses of that this morning, but they were fleeting despite how hard you tried to hold onto those feelings. Instead of feeling satiated, blissful, tired and energized in all the best ways, and above all, thoroughly loved, you felt kind of...empty.

Your breathing started to quicken as uneasiness began to fester inside your chest. While you should've felt calm and peaceful in her arms, suddenly you felt restless. You fought against the feeling for as long as you could, but eventually your fingers curled in against her skin and you gave her a fleeting kiss on the shoulder as your removed yourself from her embrace. She looked to you questioningly.

"I'm gonna go take a shower," you explained with a small smile. She propped herself up on her elbows as you maneuvered off the bed.

"I'll join you," she said quickly before hesitating. "If you want."

You stood before her, feeling unnaturally exposed and wracking your mind for an excuse before you even realized it.

"Didn't you shower already this morning?" You asked innocently as you distractedly began gathering up clothes for the day.

"We haven't showered together in a long time," she countered, her tone betraying the ease of the shrug you saw her give in the mirror. She watched you wordlessly and intently for another moment before adding with a soft smile that made your heart ache. "I don't mind at all."

You closed the drawer and turned around to face her. Your heart panged further at how she looked braced for rejection.

"Sure," you said with a quiet smile. "Come on, then"

She beamed at your response and rushed out of bed to start gathering new towels. She eagerly took your clothes from you and folded them neatly, setting them on the bathroom counter. She started the shower, checking the temperature and let you know when it was warm. She gave you another sweet smile as you approached and held her hand out for you as you stepped in.

She followed you, closing the shower door behind her and gently grasped you by the waist, moving you so you were more fully under the water. While she didn't really mind getting cold, you despised it and she knew it.

Despite your mood even minutes before, you couldn't help but melt slightly under her attentiveness. She smiled and kissed you - on the lips, on your cheeks, your nose, forehead. She lathered your hair for you, soaped you up playfully and sweetly.

It felt like old times.

You began to return the favour, and - much like old times - you felt compelled to let your hands wander. She looked momentarily uncertain as you reach down between your bodies to began stroking her. Her eyes were watchful as you coaxed her member to grow firmer and longer in your skillful hand.

To rid her of any lingering doubts of your intentions, you ran your free hand through her hair and leaned in and began to tenderly kiss her neck. You felt her throat rumble with a low groan and she allowed herself to begin to buck gently into your hand.

Her arms wrapped around you, making you feel warm and safe, and a rush of emotion rose within you.

"I love you Jessie," you said against her neck as your fingers dug into her crown. You felt her body relax, like some kind of weight was relieved of her, and soon she gently pushed you against the shower wall in a deep kiss.

"I love you too," she whispered into the kiss. "So much."

The throbbing in your core grew stronger as she began to more fully grind against you and into your hand, the head of her cock gliding against your stomach with every stroke.

You pushed her back slightly, adjusting the position of her cock so it was now between your legs. She thrust forward, her length now nudging against your entrance. You leaned your head back against the shower wall and pulled her closer as you panted in renewed need for her.

She subtly rut against you, the head of her cock spreading your entrance ever so slightly more each time as she toyed with slipping inside of you.

You lifted your leg, planting your foot on the lower ledge of the shower, inviting her in. You felt her exhale lustfully. She rocked up into you a touch more, the head pushing just enough inside that your walls fully enveloped it this time, both of you gasping at the sensation.

"I'll pull out," she told you as she withdrew before immersing herself further inside of you.

You screwed your eyes together harder as you urgently tried to stall the thoughts that threatened to invade your mind at her comment.

You just wanted to be with her. Be loved by her and to not think about how your world and your relationship had fragmented. You held her closer and she responded by thrusting up into you with greater force and pace.

She whispered sweet nothings as she drove into you, your skin pressed against the cold tiles of the shower. Her words were loving and wanting, dirty and sweet, all things that made you cum on her cock countless times before. Words, sentiments and actions that always left your body quivering while her name fell from your mouth in whispers and cries.

For the second time this morning though, your mind refused to let you be in the moment. You wanted to let go and to fall apart in the safety of her arms, but you just couldn't.

Your eyes began to tear up and you were grateful for the water that cascaded down both your bodies.

You didn't want her to worry. And you didn't want to have to talk about it. You didn't want to linger on what this all meant.

So you moaned, and whimpered, and dragged your nails down her back in all the ways you used to. You let your moans hit a fever pitch, your breath hitching and shuddering, knowing she wouldn't let herself cum before you again.

True to her word, as her thrusts grew rapid and desperate, her own breath catching as her climax approached, she pulled out at the last second and pumped her fist hard and fast over her cock a couple of times before she came with a heady grunt, ropes of cum shooting up onto your torso only to be washed away just as fast by the shower.

"Holy fuck," she panted as the last drops of cum drained from her. She released her cock and braced one hand against the wall, eyes closed. You tenderly ran your hands up and down the sides of her neck and watched her quietly. She rest her forehead against yours.

"I love you so much," she breathed, eyes still closed in the haze of her orgasm.

You closed your eyes, a strange hollowness inside your chest. A beat passed before you squeezed her tightly to you.

"I love you, too."

[navydoves]

Blood Bag — Chapter 2

“Does it hurt?”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

✎ᝰ. summary. you’re a vampire, you need blood. sylus is the most powerful man on this side of the planet. he has what you need.

✎ᝰ. cw. you’re a vampire/sylus is a human, yearning sylus, depressed sylus, lonely sylus, luke and kieran are side characters, not unrequited but maybe a little, ANGSTY, erotica, lots of pining here bro, sylus is currently getting more pathetic! ✎ᝰ. wc. 6.7k

✎ᝰ. a/n. alright a little bit overdo for a second chapter but here it is! hoorrraaay! sorry for the delay, i’m still a student and i do this in my free time. if you have any questions about the story, i answer all dms so feel free. this is not proof read because i wanted to get it out asap but i will try n fix things as time goes on. hope this chapter is satisfactory to you all and if anyone wants to be tagged for chapter 3, lmk!

chapter 1

he couldn’t believe he was in this position right now, both literally and figuratively. cradling the soft hair of this vampire’s head and pushing them further into the crevice of his neck, encouraging them to suck blood that even his enemies didn’t have privilege of seeing.

that first sink of your fangs stung a lot more than any normal nicks he’d gotten, but his body didn’t flinch away. he barely made a face as the room filled with groaning and slurping noises, all coming from you and your eager, insatiable hunger.

he thought maybe a few minutes of sucking would be enough time—enough blood—to pull you away and finally start questioning you, but you were insistent. and sylus, he was generous.

you were pawing at his chest, gripping onto his shirt and anchoring yourself closer as you reveled in what was the best blood to ever cross your tongue. you didn’t have the mental capacity to think about how he wasn’t pulling you away, how he just sat there compliant in your feeding. even when blood dripped down his neck and collarbones he made no move to clean it. he just held you.

but that generosity is why you were able to survive, and why the two of you are here where you are now.

his voice is a low rumble, interrogative but not angry. “who are you?” sylus asks once you finally pull back. he mentally remarks how much better you look, health gracing your face in a way that wasn’t there minutes earlier. you turn your head. defiant? maybe. scared? he wouldn’t believe it. “speak up. you don’t get to choose when and how you’re fearful. you weren’t hesitant when you broke into here, you don’t get to be hesitant now.”

he hooks a finger under your chin and turns your face to face his. one of his eyes glow, you notice, but that wasn’t your issue right now. you say your name quietly and it causes an identifiable feeling to sprout in sylus’s chest. it seemed so familiar… but it wasn’t the name on the report.

he holds up the slightly crumpled paper to you, eyes piercing into yours as if daring you to lie. “and who is this?” he sees you avert your gaze again but before he could force your face back to him, you answer.

“me.”

it takes a few moments but an incredulous chuckle escapes sylus throat. “can you see why i’m a little confused then?” he rasps, frustration lining his voice. all this time. “what’s a dead girl from philos doing in my fucking house? ah sorry, supposed to be dead.” sylus leans in closer, his hot breath crowding your face and forcing you to back up into the corner. “and you fucking bit me. you bit me in hopes of turning the strongest man in the n109 zone into a vampire, but guess what sweet thing? it didn’t fucking work. i’ll bring your dead body back to whomever you work for and show them myself how much of a fucking failure they are. would you like that? because death is mercy compared to what they’ve done to you.”

the monologue does little to disturb you, sylus notices. you instead keep still with your eyes squinted and brows furrowed, like you were a little disgusted at him and his threats. but whatever you were feeling was irrelevant to sylus. how you got yourself here and why was the only thing on his mind.

he was near seething at this point. seeing the stress he’s dealt with over the last several weeks be given a face and a weakness was nirvana itself for him. all the ways he could make you suffer and make an example out of you; he could show all other nations just exactly how to deal with a vampire.

“silence huh? it’s fine, i can play the long game,” sylus grins. you were still unmoving but there was unspoken emotion in your eye. behind what seemed like disgust, you looked a bit defeated. and despite wanting to explore what you were hiding, sylus couldn’t bring him to stare at your eyes for too long. it was painful. it felt painful, like he knew those eyes and that pain too well.

sylus stands, grabs you by the nape of your cloak, and almost drags you out of the room. he was so sick and tired of this, he needed a break even if he did also need answers.

“luke, kieran,” sylus mumbles while stepping out of his office door, you stumbling behind him. “take her to security and confine her in a silver cage. any and every camera in there should be pointed at her. keep the lights low, i don’t want to kill her yet.”

the twins perk up seeing sylus and the strange, staggering girl. when they caught her she could barely walk or fight back, but now she was up on two feet.

“silver? lights?” luke mumbles, not believing the conclusion he was about to come to.

“vampire,” kieran finishes that thought telepathically.

both their faces were a little horrified-looking. a vampire? here? in their estate? the same string of questions that crossed sylus earlier was now being shared by the twins.

“wait but, h—“

sylus raises his hand and cuts kieran off. “i gave you orders, none of which say ‘ask sylus questions.’ take her there, do what i asked and then come back up. no interrogating, no torturing, nothing. you speak to me only.”

the twins exchange a glance and nod imperceptibly before moving toward you and hooking you tightly against their bodies with their arms. without question, without fuss, they stumble you to the elevator and give sylus one last concerned look before disappearing from the hall.

sylus stays still for several moments before grasping at his hair and groaning.

“fuck me.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“she… she bit you?” luke whispers.

kieran wasn’t able to even formulate words at the impossible scenario, but this was neither impossible nor a scenario, it was the reality.

“she did… twice,” sylus responds, his hands rubbing at his face. after weeks of high stress all he could do now was sit in his exhaustion and not even triumph in catching his prey. and sylus loved catching his prey. “but… i let her the second time. the first time, i don’t know how or when but she got to me but i was asleep. the second time was just now. she was dying and… i couldn’t let the vermin perish without knowing how she infiltrated the n109 zone and the estate.”

the twins stay uncharacteristically still while they absorbed sylus’s words. the quarantining and stalking of the house was finally being explained to them; a vampire under their noses this whole time.

“so then… boss are you…” luke continued, “are you… a vampire now?”

there was tense silence between the three. “no, i’m not. a dragon like me can’t be taken down so easily, but i do feel weaker.” he sighs, sitting up and looking to the ceiling. “not just physically, but mentally. like i’ve been duped and that i’ve gone soft. she got me in a weak spot i didn’t know i had, and i hate having weak spots.”

with his head angled up, kieran could see the fresh bite mark on sylus’s neck. it made him wince. “what’re you gonna do then?” he asks softly.

sylus gives the question a few moments of thought. torture was almost a guaranteed way to get anyone to talk, but he still wasn’t a fan of that idea even to a nuisance like you. your refusal to speak could mean an indefinite amount of things. as hypocritical as it was; maybe you were scared. or maybe you (rightfully) didn’t trust sylus, or you were still dying, or that you didn’t want to give up the name of the people you were working with. if you were with others anyway—that conclusion was one sylus came up with on his own. but how could you not? this couldn’t have been a one-woman-show.

“i don’t know…” sylus exhales, “i’m going to get what i need to out of her, but this entire thing is… more than complicated. i do know what we aren’t going to do, though.” the twins lean in a bit interested as sylus readjusts himself. “we aren’t going to torture her. we have to keep her at least stable. she can’t start withering away under our noses and all of the sudden, next day we walk in on a dead vampire in my house.”

luke glances down as if he didn’t really like the idea. “sounds like we’re treating her more like a guest and not an intruder,” he mumbles, “an intruder that tried to turn you, by the way.”

“luke,” sylus warns, “listen i don’t need the remarks, okay? i know… it’s not what you guys want but we can’t just kill her and… i just can’t bring myself to torture her. it’s never been my sort of play and it’s not now.”

another tense silence follows.

“so then…” kieran whispers, “how’re you gonna keep her ‘stable’?”

“as long as we keep the lights low and give her blood—“ sylus cuts himself off. fuck, blood. you need blood. you need blood to survive and he can’t just give you half-assed meals to eat. you’re a vampire, that’s the whole fucking issue here. “listen,” he continues, “let me worry about the logistics. i don’t want you two going near her until i deem it safe. god forbid you two get hurt in someway, it’ll be in my conscience until i die myself.”

the twins perk up slightly. “really? you’d care if we got hurt or died?” luke asks almost cheerfully. kieran simply looks at his brother to reprimand him.

“i’m not gonna entertain that question,” sylus gruffs. “all i ask of you two is for some space while i consider where to go from here. if i need your help, ill come to you, but for the most part, just go on about your duties like normal. is that understood?”

the twins look at each other and then back at sylus before giving him a slight nod of understanding. being asked to pretend like everything was normal when there was a vampire a few floors down was insanity to them, but they knew better than to fight their boss on this. sylus needed his time, and they trusted him to effectively handle this.

“alright, boss,” kieran sighs softly, “but if your condition gets any worse, tell us okay? we at least wanna be there for you. y’know… even if we can’t do anything about it.”

the twins slump slightly—kieran’s word came off a lot more solemn they he intended. boss wouldn’t die, right? they hoped boss was stronger than a few vampire bites. but that look on boss's face did not quell their anxieties. that look of pure exhaustion.

instead of fighting them on their insistence, sylus simply nods at the two, acknowledging their care for him even if he felt it unnecessary. he motions for them to leave his office and doesn’t bother wishing them a goodnight. the last thing on his mind was pleasantries.

alone, in his office, with nothing but his thoughts and an aching body affected by the vampire bite, sylus was unsure of what to do next. he had to talk to her, of course, but how to was the issue. another issue was just how to feed her.

former hostages, criminals, suspects, all that galore didn’t compare to this simple vampire. because at least with them, coaxing the truth with threats and humiliation came easily. humans were easy to crack, but vampires? maybe not this one.

when his eyes glance over it, sylus immediately goes back to the discarded death report on the side of the room. this was another thing he wasn’t sure how to interpret. was this another fake report? but no, you said it yourself, this was you. well this was supposed to be you. a human from philos.

staring at the paper would do him no justice, though, and the answers had to come directly from you otherwise he would find dead ends all day. so for the time being, he would just… be calm. the ache from the bite was still strumming through sylus’s veins and he needed it gone before he could make his way to you. no way was he gonna let you see your effect on him, he’d already been humiliated in your wake once.

sylus stands, moves over to the black and red encrusted mirror on the wall, and faces a man he no longer recognizes. today that man would become more of a stranger.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

clink, clank, clink, clank.

those were the sounds of sylus’s boots stepping down the stairs to the security room where you were kept away. he opted for the stairs and not the elevator to give himself time to… think, of course. he wasn’t stalling. he had no reason to… this is just some silly vampire that he could deal with. just another obstacle in his life that would make him stronger, coming out the end of it.

at the bottom of the stairs, he sighs. the air was already tense with the sound of generators and electricity humming throughout. he knew you were in there, he could see you vaguely from the door separating the stairs and the room. you were quiet as a mouse and still as a possum. he hoped what he had would change that, make you more lively to talk.

in one hand was a silver box filled with jars of animal blood that he hoped you would drink for food. in the other hand was a notepad and pen, something for you to use to write if you refused to verbally speak. if you could write at all.

it took him a few more moments of “thinking” before he decided to step into the room. his strides were long and calm, no doubt or hesitation in his movements. he knew better than to come off as anything but confident. he was confident and still all the more irritated at the situation.

outside of your silver cage he pulls a rogue wheely chair and sits on it quietly before setting his things down. he could see your face peeking out of your hood, scanning his lower half.

there’s a heavy silence between the two of you. it was understood that you weren’t going to speak first anyway, so the man across from you took that liberty.

“are you hungry?” sylus asks lowly, not concern in his voice but a neutral tone for a very simple question. as expected, you don’t answer. he reaches down to the silver box and clicks it open. one by one, he places the jars of blood in front of your cage, just out of your reach. “i have blood here, ready for you. i’ll give you some morsels… but your vow of silence will prevent me from doing so. you should understand it’s in your best interest to speak.”

no reply. he sees just slight interest in your very subtle movements, but nothing more. the jars are in eyeshot of your vision, but whether it be disinterest or defiance, you weren’t making any attempts at them.

sylus places the box down and picks up the pad and pen. he slides it through the slivers between bars around your cage, right where you can reach it. “if this vow of silence is so important to you,” he drones on, “then it’d be easier for you to write. either way, i’m the only one who can keep you alive now. you know how desperate you were for blood just yesterday, it wasn’t a fun feeling was it? starvation. so i’d advise you to communicate if you want to avoid that pain.”

sylus inches one of the jars to you with his foot, watching carefully how you react. for several moments you were perched the same—huddling at the farthest edge from him in your cloak, hiding your form and face from him. but in the next second, you were moving. with one snatch you took the jar from the other edge and just when sylus thought you were about to scarf it all down, you instead threw it to the side of the cage and smashed it into pieces. blood was now soaked onto the floor and dripping down the bars, some of it on your cloak.

from under your hood, sylus could see seething anger from your eyes. in the short time he’s known you, he’s seen you desperate, upset, fearful, disgusted, and now angry. the sudden violence took sylus aback for a moment, but he recovered quickly.

he scoffed. “throwing a fit now? i’m not here to talk morals with a vampire but i don’t know if you have the right to be angry when you’re the cause of all of your problems.” sylus tilts his head and taps the side of his cheek with a slow, pondering finger. “there goes one of your meals. i won’t be providing more so think rationally before you break another jar.”

sylus watches you tentatively now. you were so interesting and annoying all at the same time. he couldn’t let you starve to death, so his words were more-so puffery—somewhat lies. he couldn’t say that he was desperate for your answers because it gave you the power, and you’ve had enough power over him at this point.

he had to play his cards right. he couldn’t seem too soft, but he couldn’t threaten you too much because he wouldn’t be able to go through with threats. you’d catch onto his bluff real quick. if you were to break all the jars, what was he gonna do next? go back on his word and give you more? an unfortunately smart vampire like you would just continue using him.

but thankfully… he didn’t need to do all that overthinking.

“i don’t want this… fucking animal blood,” you grit out lowly.

for the first time, sylus was hearing your real, normal voice. not the voice that was dried up and begging for blood and not the meek one you used to point yourself out on the report. a full, hearty voice. a voice he… felt distantly familiar in his chest somewhere. but sylus tries not to let his surprise show.

“so, you’d rather starve?” he chuckles, “i’m fine with that. means i won’t feel guilty when you die cause it’ll be a death by suicide.”

he wasn’t fine with that.

“you’re not fine with that.”

sylus raises a brow. you pull your cloak back and let your true anger show in the very dim light of the security room. you still looked healthy and nourished, at least enough to give you this newfound energy you had. what a soft face for such a cruel creature.

“i don’t plan on starving,” you continue, “but i don’t plan on drinking animal blood. it has no nutritional value to me.”

another low laugh rips from sylus’s chest. “you think you have the right to be picky as well? may i remind you where you are and who you’re speaking to? this is the last sovereignty on earth to be so pompous. humor me then, how do you plan on surviving?”

a beat, then your voice. “sylus,” you whisper rather softly.

“huh?” sylus grumbles.

“that’s who i’m speaking to, but that’s also how im gonna survive. im gonna survive off of you. your blood.”

sylus takes a moment to just simply stare at you and take in your indignation before a small fit of laughter broke into him. it welled up from a few chuckles to a genuine and hearty sound from his chest, pure amusement and disbelief lacing every sound. you simply stare back, annoyed and somewhat unsure of what to make of the situation.

“i’m being serious.”

“i’m aware, and that’s why it’s funny,” sylus retorts. “you’re trying to use my own desperation against me like i’m feeble enough to just give into your demands. let me take a little guess. you want my blood so that in exchange, i get information out of you? yeah? not a chance.”

sylus would be lying if he said he didn’t already consider this deal. he figured that if there was any negotiation between you two, it would have something to do with him being generous with you. you had something he wanted; so despite you being the one in the cage, you were leading this discussion—and he didn’t like that.

“i’m not quite sure why you’re laughing like the idea is outlandish,” you respond with a slightly offended tone. “it’s not like you can’t take it. for the things i could tell you, a few pints of blood to hold me over is cheap. sylus, head of onichynus and overseer of the n109 zone, turning down a bargain that could uplift his sovereignty to even greater heights… because he can’t part with some blood? pathetic.”

sylus’s amusement quickly falters at your words. your words could be bluff or exaggerated, he wouldn’t be able to tell anyway. at the very least you had some insight on him and his sovereignty enough to speak with such familiarity. i mean, fuck, you made it into his estate—if anything you knew intimate details about his own personal life.

sylus tilts his head in irritation and bares his teeth slightly. “i’m sure you didn’t come all the way here to give me some sort of extraordinary intel out of the goodness of your heart. you broke in and bit me, not much of a conversation there.”

you smirk slightly. “it’s true, i came here for your blood. but i also didn’t come here to share my life story with you. i’m only negotiating now because i’ve been caught.”

blood? fuck, he was one step into the door now. a motive—he has some sort of motive as to why you’re here, but that answer of yours only begs more questions. why his blood specifically? it didn’t seem like you wanted it because of his status, but what other reason could you have.

“my blood?” sylus repeats mockingly. “surely a quick-witted, mouthy vermin like you could get her hands on any human that walks by. there are two healthy young men in my estate, blood surely fresher than mine. the n109 zone is filled with young vigilantes with blood surely more course than mine. and not to mention… philos—if that is your birthplace—is populated by high-ranking officials and families, with blood surely sweeter than mine. and yet, you’ve chosen me? why have i been hexed?”

there’s a slight flicker of dejection in your expression that adds such a human element to you. every new emotion in your face feels so utterly familiar to sylus, it was starting to feel uncomfortable.

“i think you know why i chose you,” you whisper back.

“what?”

there was silence from you now. of course there was. you were still playing games with him and for him to play with you, it would cost him some blood. in the silence that ensues, sylus considers your words. what did he have that regular humans didn’t? apart from his status and power, what could make him a target for blood?

and then.

an idea hits him.

but it was… unfathomable.

he could almost feel the horns growing on the sides of his head, the cold scales prickling at his skin, the phantom tail moving behind him. that body that he once was was luxurious but also all the more hated. luke and kieran were born from a human woman. the vigilantes in the n109 zone were unreformed, outcasted humans from other nations. philos was regal, but not divine. their people and rulers were all human.

but sylus… sylus is a dragon.

or at least, was.

he furrows his brows and eyes you down in your cage. you meet his gaze with an equally challenging look. there was unspoken tension between you two, secrets that both of you were unsure how or if to unravel.

you broke the tension first.

“i need blood,” you whisper. “i’m getting hungry again and i wither away quickly. i don’t want whatever pigs blood you’ve brought. stop fighting me, just give me what i need.”

another short silence.

“i have every weapon you could imagine perfected in silver and stocked up in this very room,” sylus states very, very carefully. he gestures to the crates around them. “if i sense even the slightest bit of threat from you, i kill you with no hesitation. and i will do it in the most painful way possible.”

you simply look at him, resolute unshaken. you nod.

with no words to continue his threat, sylus reached into his jacket pocket and takes out a small knife foldable knife. he clicks it out and brings it to his palm for a cut before your voice stops him.

“no,” you jut in rather loudly, “i need it… from the source. it’s not as good otherwise.”

sylus opens his mouth to denounce that idea but your voice once again stops him. a small, almost pitiful, and unusually earnest, “please” that falls from your lips. he stills with the knife against his palm for a few more moments before clicking it back and putting it away. while at the beginning of all this, giving into your demands would’ve been humiliating, the idea of you knowing about his past is even more so. so now, it’s easy to unlock the door to your cage and gesture you to come to him.

and you, so as to not wear him out or risk your life, come to him slowly and quietly. once close, gently, you climb his lap and tilt your head into his neck. his scent was all too familiar to you, it almost made you sob right there, but your hunger was more pronounced.

the bite was a soft and almost imperceptible nick to sylus’s throat, followed by the sting of your sinking fangs.

the only thing sylus could do at this point was wait until you had your fill like he did when he first caught you. you weren’t as loud as the day before, though. instead of desperate slurping and groaning, you were quietly gulping with soft sighs to accompany it.

he felt quite humbled by letting this happen to him, but at this point, maybe it was too late for him to care that much.

sylus felt the crowd of your body against his as you sank in for more. he was unsure of what to do with his hands so, with a bit of resignation, he placed them on your hips and savored your familiar warmth against his body.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

two crow masks were discarded to the middle of the couch. luke and kieran faced each other on opposite ends of it.

“do you think he’ll be okay?” luke asks softly. him and his brother spent the last few hours after they put the vampire away, worrying and mulling the situation over.

“we’ve seen boss get through worse. he’ll be alright. there’s no reason to worry luke,” kieran responds trying to reassure. except, the worry between them didn’t let up one bit.

“but has he been through worse? forget conflicts and trade wars and everything else between the sovereignties. no one has gotten to boss this personally before. i mean… almost killing him? kieran…”

“luke,” kieran sighs softly, “you saw him. two vampire bites and he’s still holding up. i can’t think of anyone else who could do that. we can worry all we want but… but it’s not our place to do anything. boss won’t listen to our advice anyway.” kieran rubs his face and perches his chin on his palm. a soft sigh escapes him. “plus… he has his own weird way of caring for us. he won’t let us help ‘cause he worries we’ll be like… traumatized or something.”

luke chuckles just slightly, “at least he cares.”

the twins both laugh a little painfully at the slightly morbid humor. they meet eyes, their identical faces mirroring identical expressions of exhaustion.

“what’d’you think he’s doing now?” kieran asks.

“hm, probably threatening her with all his weapons to get a confession or something.” luke responds.

well it wasn’t going to be that difficult.

“does it hurt?” you ask softly while looking at sylus through the bedroom mirror. you were sat decorously at the small round table in the room, glancing over to sylus who was standing before the mirror and patching up the bite mark.

“doesn’t matter, don’t small talk me,” he responds straightly.

after a few more moments of ensuring the bandage patch was securely on, sylus strode to the small table where you were sat quietly. apart from your need for blood, there was unfortunately nothing odd about you. the politeness was strange. he doesn’t waste any time.

“how did you get in here?” sylus presses.

you glance around, a little unsure of how exactly to answer this. “well, you. you told me,” you respond.

sylus knits his brows together and almost laughs. he shakes his head incredulously. “no i didn’t. how did you get in here?” he repeats.

“the bar,” you state simply. “you were at a bar a about a week ago. you were downing shots and racking up a tab. first ten or so it was my coworker who served you, then it was me. unprovoked, you started complaining about the renovations of your home. i simply continued asking questions and you… well you essentially told me the security was off until they were done. i asked you at some point how you’d get home so drunk and you told me the numbers of your chauffeurs. once you were finished with your drinks, i offered to call them and went into the back, got my male coworker to do it, and took off before the renovations were done. i made it just before you did and overheard your… twins? talking about their bedrooms on the fifth floor. so i took a chance and went up there to also find your room, where i hid until you came back home.”

the monologue of your story leaves sylus absolutely bewildered. it was the first time he really was showing something genuine to you. his face was crumpled up in some sort of upset and disbelief, and despite his racing thoughts, he couldn’t really say anything. you both look at each other in practiced silence. what could he make of this?

“you were plotting against me? working for that bar knowing i frequented it to get me at my most vulnerable,” sylus laughs humorlessly, “and you found a blessing just that day.”

you shake your head. “that’s only half true. i wasn’t working there knowing you frequented it. in fact i’d only been there a week before you showed up. but i did take advantage of you and your situation once i had the chance.”

yet another tense silence. sylus couldn’t really believe how direct and open you were being. everything you said seemed honest to him, a man who’d dealt with dishonesty from criminals his whole life. but what sylus couldn’t believe more-so was how much of an idiot he had been. his loose lips and foggy mind haphazardly put him and the twins in danger and he couldn’t even be proud to finally figure out some of the mystery.

“but that doesn’t make sense,” he grits, “you were in the n109 zone as a vampire? we have border security checks for threats. are there fucking more of you?”

he notices how you hesitate to answer. the last thing he needed was for you to say there was some vampire affiliated gang in his sovereignty.

“no, not that i know of,” you respond softly. “i came to the n109 zone a long, long time ago. when i first turned, that is. i came from philos. the outbreak there was bad and there was worldwide panic due to vampirism. after i got bitten, i escaped because i knew if anyone found out i’d be staked immediately. the n109 zone seemed the safest because of its reputation of taking in outcasts. no one would question me here, everyone minds their business. so i’ve lived here for the last… i guess many decades.”

“many decades?” sylus repeats. the disgruntled expression on his face couldn’t properly portray the mess that was his mind. it felt like week after week for the past almost month, he’d been beaten down with a stick and left to lay in exhaustion. his worldview was constantly changing.

“have you killed?!” he barks. “tell me, have you killed anyone for blood?! you’ve killed haven’t you? you’ve gone this many years living under the radar, you’ve surely killed—“

“i haven’t!” you yell, stopping sylus’s growing anger. “i haven’t! i haven’t at all. i’ve been barely getting by with animal blood. fucking… killing rats in alleyways and stray cats and dogs… stuff like that. i’ve rationed frugally, okay? stake me for trying to fucking live, but i’ve never hurt anyone.”

“how do i know that’s true?” sylus breathes out. there’s his eye, glowing again and really boring into you.

“well, i guess you don’t. but maybe you should. this is your nation after all, these are your people after all. if i really did kill someone, maybe you should’ve been fucking aware of it like a good leader. but you don’t know about killings because i didn’t kill. i hid so well and adapted to your society so perfectly that to you and to everyone else, i was human. so don’t go fucking pointing fingers at me saying i did shit i didn’t.”

sylus could feel his heart beating harder now. he was upset at you but more-so himself. but during all these decades, has he stumbled upon you? has he seen your face and heard your voice that now he thinks—

“is that why i recognize you?”

the question immediately shuts you up. he sees you move back into the chair and immediately relinquish any type of aggravation you had. you looked hurt, but he didn’t understand why.

“no… no. i’ve always hid away from you. i made sure i never saw you in person and you never saw me.” you whisper. you could feel a bitter ache in your stomach. he didn’t remember you.

sylus also backs down, sitting back in his chair.

“i need you to answer this again, and i want an honest answer,” he states firmly. “why my blood?”

a long, impending silence follows. sylus is patient. you are worried.

“dragon’s blood. your blood is more potent than any human’s. after decades of living on scraps… i needed it. when i saw the opportunity at the bar i took it, and every single bite afterward felt so, so fucking good. like nothing i’ve ever tasted before. you don’t even understand.”

dragon’s blood.

it was true that sylus was a human now, but his dragon heritage was still apart of him. it was quite literally in his blood, but that heritage was always kept a secret. sylus wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t have that boyish fear of being judged. after all, it has been instilled in him for years. outcasted as a baby dragon to a full grown one, there wasn’t a day where he didn’t face ridicule and torture for being what he was. he wasn’t cruel, but people made him cruel. only faintly did he know happiness and love brought upon a person he can no longer make out.

“why… how… do you know about my…?” sylus trails off. he hasn’t talked about his past in literal eons, and now the topic of this conversation was getting to him. similar to you, there wasn’t bitter ache within him.

“they talked about you in philos, told tales and stories about evil dragons and teach them to the kids, even. i learned about it when i was young. they never specify you, though. i just… um… happen to know.” your whispered truth was only half the truth. you couldn’t bare to be fully honest.

“…do you believe them?” sylus whispers. his eyes were squinted down at the table and searching for an answer in the air. “the stories… tales.”

you shake your head gently. “no. i don’t. and it’s not because i’ve learned differently or something. i just never have.”

sylus takes a moment to consider your words and lift his head back up. this sort of dejection was unfamiliar him, but you seemed to quell that feeling. he’s never met someone accepting of what he was. maybe it was because that disgusting form with horns and tail wasn’t before you now, but he’d take anything.

“why do you want to live?” sylus asks simply. that tired, dull look was back.

you curl your lip in thought. “because… i deserve to? i haven’t hurt anyone. i’ve lived a quiet life. i’ve paid my dues and my sins with my human life. i may be immortal but i will die one day. i’ll choose when that day is. it’s not now.”

i don’t want to be reborn. i don’t want to be reborn.

i don’t want to be reborn. i don’t want to be reborn.

i don’t want to be reborn. i don’t want to be reborn.

sylus lets out a small breath of surrender. he couldn’t fight you on this anymore. even with the lingering confusion in his head, you’ve answered most of his questions. a week ago, he’d imagine this moment where he finally reached the end of this mystery to be triumphant and empowering.

but he felt none of that right now. he felt a little empty. unrecognizable. like his weaknesses are loud to everyone around him.

the fog clouds him and through it he can hear your voice.

“sylus,” you whisper.

he looks to you, patient.

“can i have more blood?”

silently, he pushes out his chair and nods.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“do you think he’s in there?” luke whisper shouts to his brother. they were both huddled at the end of the hallway where the bedrooms were.

“i mean,” kieran whisper shouts back, “we’ve checked his office, the living rooms, the kitchens, the security room, he wasn’t anywhere there. this is the last place.”

“do you think something happened, kieran? i mean that damn vampire girl wasn’t in her cage!”

kieran sighs. “no, i don’t. he’s probably out at base with her or something. we never know what’s going on in his mind, he’s probably out handling this his own way.”

luke exhales in defeat. his brother was right, boss did never clue them in on his plans unless they were directly needed. he always took care of things in a very specific way that only he knew how to do. this whole situation was only worrying them because they did not like the idea of a vampire in their estate. they even made it a routine to check for bites and nicks on their bodies before and after bed, just to be sure.

“okay,” luke stands straight, “let’s just go check his bedroom and we’ll go back to our rooms before he gets mad at us for bothering him. if he’s in there anyway.”

kieran nods at his brother. the two very quietly scuffle down the hall until they were right by sylus’s bedroom door. up until this point, they were next to convinced that he wasn’t in the estate. but that was until they heard noises from behind the door.

voices, but not speech.

one of which was definitely sylus’s but the other of which was unrecognizable. they tense but decide to knock anyway. the sound is soft and non-intrusive, but it did nothing. no one came to the door and the noises didn’t stop.

kieran reaches out to knock again but luke stops him at the wrist. “let’s just…” he trails off while reaching for the doorknob, “go in.”

kieran was unsure but nods anyway. slowly, they open the door all the way in and take a moment to understand the sight they were met with.

you, the girl they recognized as the vampire, perched on sylus’s lap on the bed with your teeth sunk into his neck and sucking like it was your last meal. sylus, their boss, gently petting your head and giving you infrequent pecks to the cheek. it didn’t take long for everyone in the room to stop dead in their tracks and notice what was happening.

they froze. sylus froze. you froze.

“b-boss?”

tl: @seventeen-x , @webshooterrr9 , @theycallmesoup , @satansdaughter123 , @tyasmaple , @jaynawayna , @jadeymeciela , @namjooningera , @phisen , @eepamaawo , @lolaisoffline

[lionneee]

Dragon’s Egg

Masterlist

Taglist

English is not my first language, please be kind

Modern!Enemy!Aemond x Brother'sGirlfriend!Fem!Reader

•Warnings: cheating, public sex(?), public teasing, degradation, rubbing on thigh thing.•

Part one -> Part Two

She didn’t know why she did it.

He wasn’t his friend, he wasn’t his boyfriend, he was no one to her.

He was just her boyfriend’s brother.

And she hated that she did what he asked of her.

She hated him.

She was washing her hands, when suddenly someone slipped inside the bathroom.

“It’s occupied-” She stopped talking the moment she turned and saw him.

“Put this on.” He ordered, holding up a little black egg. She looked at his hand, then back his single eye.

“What? No. We’re at your family dinner and Aegon-”

“I said put this on.” He left the egg on the counter, then left as fast as he came.

Motherfucker.

Aegon smiled at you and put a hand on your thigh, dangerously close to your core.

“Are you okay? I know this shit is boring as hell, but we’ll have to endure it just a little longer.” He smirked. You smiled and put a hand over his.

“Everything is alright-” 

Buzz buzz.

The vibration cut her off, and she gasped, but she quickly tried to cover it by coughing. She smiled at Aegon and grabbed her glass to take a few sips of her wine.

You quickly glanced at Aemond, finding him already smirking, and looking at you, one of his hands resting lazily inside the pocket of his pants, pressing on the button of the remote.

Bastard.

She looked away, finding Alicent looking at her with a smile. 

She knew Aegon’s mother was fond of her, she had made it clear a couple of times on her visits before.

“How are your studies going, sweety?” She smiled as she looked at her.

“G-good-” Again, the little egg inside her panties, nestled against her clit, started vibrating again, making it hard for her to properly form a sentence, but she did her best.

“Good." She repeated more firmly, shifting slightly in her seat as the vibrations pulsed against her sensitive core. Her fingers tightened around the stem of her wine glass, knuckles turning white. Aemond was playing a dangerous game, and she despised him for it. But what was worse was the way her body reacted despite herself.

Alicent beamed at her, completely oblivious to her current predicament. “That’s wonderful to hear, dear. I always knew you were a hardworking young woman.”

Aegon rubbed small circles on her thigh, leaning in slightly. “You okay, baby?” His voice was hushed, tinged with concern, but he was more focused on how her body tensed beneath his touch. “You look a little flushed.”

She swallowed hard, forcing a smile. “I’m fine, really." She lied, biting the inside of her cheek as another wave of vibrations rippled through her.

Her gaze flickered to Aemond, who was taking a slow sip of his wine, his smirk deepening. His single eye burned with amusement, reveling in her struggle. He wasn’t even pretending to be subtle about it.

Aegon’s fingers slid higher up her thigh, dangerously close to where the black egg was nestled, and she nearly jumped. “You sure? You’re all squirmy." He teased, grinning.

She forced herself to stay still, to keep breathing evenly. “I just need some air." She murmured quickly, pushing back her chair.

“Oh, let me come with you—” Aegon started, but she shook her head.

“No, no, I’ll be right back.” She was already moving, desperate to get away before she embarrassed herself in front of his entire family.

She barely made it into the hallway before a strong hand grabbed her wrist and yanked her into a secluded corner. Aemond.

She gasped, looking up at him, eyes wide with fury. “You—”

His lips curled into a smirk as he slipped his hand into his pocket again, and suddenly the vibrations intensified. Her body jolted, her breath hitching as she clutched his forearm for support.

“Having trouble focusing, sweet girl?" He whispered, his voice like silk, taunting and dangerous.

Her nails dug into his skin. 

“Turn it off." She hissed through clenched teeth, barely keeping her voice down.

He tilted his head, feigning innocence. “Why? I think you’re enjoying yourself.”

She hated him. She hated him so much she could scream. But what she hated even more was how her body betrayed her, how the heat pooling between her thighs only grew with every pulse of that damned toy.

He leaned back against the wall, one if his leg bent, and pulled her closer by her waist.

“I’m not turning it off.” He looked down at her as his hand moved down to squeeze her ass, urging her forward, forcing her to widen her legs to let his bent one between them.

“I hate you.” She hissed as she looked at him, her thighs clenching slightly as he pulled her closer, making her core rub and press against his thigh. “I swear this is the last ti–” She whined as her body jolted with pleasure, the little egg vibrating against her clit with much more intensity.

“No it’s not.” He scoffed as he intensified the vibration of the little egg, making her whimper.

He didn’t even have to guide her movements, she was more than willingly rubbing against his thigh by herself, keeping her hands on his shoulders for leverage.

“God, you’re so annoying-” She growled as she closed her eyes shut, her forehead leaning on his shoulder as she panted harder.

“What were you saying?” He smirked as he slapped her ass, making her jolt on his thigh. “Right, you were telling me how good you feel right now…” He chuckled.

She was close, and he knew it. A wicked smirk played on his lips as he leaned in, his breath fanning over her parted lips. “Go ahead,” he whispered. “Come for me.”

Her body tensed, pleasure coiling inside her like a spring ready to snap. Just as she teetered on the edge, he pulled back, pressing the button once more.

The vibrations stopped.

She whimpered involuntarily, her body aching from the sudden loss of stimulation. Aemond’s smirk only deepened. 

She panted, glaring at him through hooded eyes. “You bastard.” She groaned as she kept rubbing on his thigh, hoping to reach her orgasm despite the brutal interruption of the vibrator.

He chuckled, brushing his lips against her ear. “Look at you.” He looked down at her. “Rubbing so hard on your boyfriend’s brother's thigh. You’re such a slut.” He slapped her ass again, making her whimper.

“Fuck you, Aemond.” She hissed as she felt her orgasm building again.

“Don’t worry, you’ll fuck me sooner or later…” He smirked as he set the intensity at its maximum, and turned the egg on once she was teetering on the edge of her orgasm.

“Fuck!” She gasped as she clenched her thighs around his, coming undone with a silent cry.

Her body trembled against him, her breath uneven as the last waves of pleasure coursed through her limbs. Aemond held her there, his hands firm on her waist, keeping her steady. He was enjoying this, too much. She could feel it in the way his fingers dug into her skin, in the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed her in like a victory.

And she hated it.

She hated the smirk that played at the corner of his lips. She hated the gleam of satisfaction in his lone eye. She hated that he had this power over her, that she had let him take control of her body so easily.

With what little strength she had left, she shoved against his chest. He let her go, but not before tightening his grip for just a second longer, as if reminding her that he was the one who decided when to let go.

Her jaw clenched, rage bubbling just beneath the surface of her flushed skin. She wanted to slap that smug look right off his face. Instead, she turned on her heel, ready to put as much distance between them as possible.

“Don’t forget to return the toy.” He called after her, amusement dripping from his voice. “Wouldn’t want Aegon finding it, would we?”

She froze, fingers curling into fists at her sides. The audacity of this man. He was playing with her, toying with her shame, knowing damn well she couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

She felt Aemond’s hand sneak under her dress, moving inside her panties to grab the egg, and take it back.

“Thank you.” He hummed in her ear from behind her. 

Without turning around, she threw him a glare over her shoulder. “Stay the hell away from me, Aemond.”

But she knew the words were empty.

And he knew it too.

Taglist: @ka1afbr @cynic-spirit @ladythornofrivia @zenka69 @queenofthekeep @adorewhatever @diannnnsss @kotadislikesthissite @iloveallmyboys @valyrianflower @dixie-elocin @gelacat0413 @quinquinquincy @mamawiggers1980 @darylandbethfanforever9 @rhaethoughts @believeinthefireflies95 @urfavnoirette @summerposie @sk1mah1 @queenofshinigamis @anukulee @chlmtfilms @m-riaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @malfoycassimalfoy @agoldenwoe @sapphirevhagar

[dragonridersandhighlords]

Chasing Shadows | E I G H T

masterlist | CS Masterlist

Summary: As Wren grapples with revelations about her past and the people she trusted, she must decide whether rebuilding broken bonds is worth the risk—especially when her own life hangs in the balance.

Notes: 

Warnings: emotional distress, trauma processing, mentions of parental loss, panic attack, dissociation, redemption arc, some fluff too

Word Count: 8.4k

previous part

X A D E N

I watch Wrenley spin in shock, her eyes wide with disbelief as she takes in the sight of the fully restored Riorson House. The once-crumbling facade now stands tall and proud, the familiar archways and intricately carved wooden doors gleaming in the afternoon light. Vines that once choked the walls have been painstakingly trimmed back, revealing the warm, earthy tones of the stone beneath. A gentle breeze carries the scent of fresh paint and newly turned earth, the remnants of construction still lingering in the air.

“Holy shit. How is it… How is it all here?” Wrenley breathes, her voice barely above a whisper, almost as if speaking too loudly might shatter the illusion before her.

“We started rebuilding when I returned,” I reply, feeling a mix of pride and trepidation as her gaze shifts toward me, searching for answers. “I never told you because I wanted to surprise you after you graduated.” I know that sharing one more secret might push her too far, yet the weight of the most difficult truth presses heavily on my chest. 

“He’s been very specific about every little detail just for you.” 

Fuck. Me. Does Harlow ever listen? 

Wrenley freezes in place, her breath hitching as she turns to the figure that now stands beside me, his presence commanding and warm. 

“Hey Little Bird.” 

“Oh shit.” Bodhi gasps, his eyes darting between us.

“Dad?” Her voice breaks, a cocktail of emotions swirling across her face—shock morphing into an exasperated scowl. I can see her mind racing, and I know she’s teetering on the edge of disbelief. “This is a joke. I’m actually going insane.”

I step towards her, my heart aching for her turmoil. “Wren—”

“No!” She snaps, cutting me off with an intensity that takes me aback, halting my steps. “I came to terms with my impending execution because I have no one! My boyfriend—who’s not even my boyfriend anymore—kissed my friend, and then that friend has been trying to get with him for almost a year! My cousin, who was supposed to be my last living relative, has been lying to me for years, along with my best friends! And the last person that I thought had my best interests at heart read my fucking memories and told his dad about my signets!” Her breaths quicken, each word a jagged knife cutting deeper into the growing turmoil within her.

“Signets?” Garrick calls out, his voice echoing the confusion in the air. I mentally facepalm, wishing he would just hold his tongue for a moment. 

“Desa is concerned about the Wise One.” Sgaeyl says through our bond.

Me fucking too.

“Oh yeah! No more secrets, I’m a fucking precog,” Wrenley declares, her voice an explosive mixture of defiance and anguish, as she throws her arms up in the air, her frustration radiating from her like heat waves on a scorching summer day. She turns to face our friends, the surprise on their faces mirroring the chaos roiling inside her. Then, just as swiftly, she pivots back to her father and me, her expression shifting from fury to desperation. “And an inntinnsic like mom! Did you know about that?”

“Wren.” I take another step forward, the distance between us closing, as tears begin to cascade down her cheeks, glistening like tiny diamonds against her flushed skin. She starts to rant, her breaths coming in ragged gasps, barely pausing as she paces back and forth, her movements erratic, each step a testament to the storm brewing within her.

“I saw Liam die twice and still couldn’t save him—” she gasps, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. “So I used my powers to let him die with happy memories, and I was fine, but I did it to Jeremish and I stopped breathing for a second.” 

“Wren?” Imogen’s voice is softer, a soothing melody in the cacophony of Wrenley’s turmoil, as she moves closer, her brows furrowed in concern.

“I’ve watched so many people die in a vision and could never save them. But Violet and I lived!” Wren begins to twist her hands together, the nervous tic she’s never had before, a manifestation of her unraveling. “Did you know my mom wasn’t killed in an accident?” A laugh escapes her lips, but it’s tinged with bitterness, her hands moving to tug at the hem of her shirt before returning to clasp tightly together. “Yeah, turns out Aetos intercepted a letter from you,” she says, her gaze darting to Harlow before sinking back to the ground, a weight of betrayal palpable in her voice, “to Fen about the rebellion.”

“Wren, take a breath.” Bodhi’s attempt to anchor her feels futile, the storm within her reaching a breaking point I’m not sure even Brennan could fix.

“They couldn’t easily send you to die, but mom was a rider!” Her laugh morphs, becoming less annoyed and more… maniacal, sending shivers down my spine. “So they sent mom to attack from behind, only the flyers were waiting for her and she’s dead now.” 

“Little Bird.” Harlow reaches for her, desperation etched across his face, as I sense the collective urge from everyone else to comfort her, but I know she’s about to unleash her powers, forcing herself into everyone’s minds.

“Stop!” she screams, both out loud and in the depths of our minds, the force of her emotions sending shockwaves through the air, causing everyone’s feet to stumble in the gravel, rooted in place. “I just—I—I can’t.” And in an instant, she’s gone, bolting away, leaving us in the heavy silence of her absence.

“You didn’t tell her, Riorson?” Harlow’s voice cuts through the air, sharp and seething, a storm brewing behind his eyes. His expression is one of fury, a tempest ready to unleash, and I can feel the weight of his disappointment pressing heavily against my chest.

“I was going to, and you decided to greet her at the door when I told you not to.” I retort, my words laced with venom as a sneer curls at the edges of my mouth. “Even Brennan listened.” My frustration bubbles to the surface, the memory of Harlow’s impulsive choice striking a nerve. 

“Brennan’s currently saving his sister, or would you prefer to die before you can fix things with my daughter?” Harlow’s words crash against me, a wave of guilt crashing over me.

“Sometimes I wish I kept my damn mouth shut at parapet,” I mutter under my breath, the regret heavy on my tongue. The moment I sense my feet freed from their forced roots, I take off, chasing after the only person who matters right now. She may be spiraling, losing pieces of herself in the process, but I made a promise, and I refuse to break another one.

The night air wraps around me as I navigate through the shadows cast by the house, my heart pounding in sync with the urgency of my steps. I find her on the hill behind the house, the familiar rise that I see when I ground. Memories of laughter, dreams, and innocence echo in my mind, taunting me with the stark contrast of the moment at hand.

“Go away, Xaden,” she snaps, her voice cracking under the weight of her tears, shoulders trembling like leaves in a storm. “I don’t want to talk.”

“Then don’t.” I answer honestly, my tone softening as I take a seat beside her. The chill of the earth seeps through my clothes, but I’m determined to stay. “I’ll talk, you listen.” I don’t wait for her to agree; I plunge into the depths of my thoughts, sharing the truths I’ve kept buried far too long.

I recount the state I found Aretia in, the chilling moment I first learned about the venin, what happened at Threshing. I describe how I stumbled upon her father during that first supply run, the joy mixed with anguish that nearly shattered me. And as I delve deeper, I reveal the parts of my life I had never dared to share, including the dark shadows of my betrothal to Cat. I poured out my fear, the dread of being nowhere near parapet the day she crossed, and the sickening panic that gripped me at the thought of losing her forever. Each revelation flows like a river, carrying the weight of my secrets, the urgency of my love, and the fear for her life with every word I utter.

I take a deep breath, letting the cool night air fill my lungs, and begin to unravel the tangled web of my thoughts. I talk about how I was going to tell her everything during that week between her first and second year, how Harlow begged me not to during that supply run. 

Each word feels heavy, a weight pressing down upon my chest. The truth sits precariously on the edge of my tongue, and I can almost taste the regret. Every time I had nearly spilled my secrets, I would catch a glimpse of the comfort that radiated from her—how she laughed and breathed in the innocence of those moments. It was in those fleeting glimpses that I felt myself spiraling deeper into the shadows of my hidden burdens.

With the stillness of the night surrounding us, I reveal the scars that mar my back—those unspoken burdens of lives I had taken responsibility for, and the shadow of her life, always looming. She remains silent, her eyes fixed unwaveringly on the expanse of the star-studded sky, the darkness swallowing us whole as I pause. 

Eventually, her sigh pierces the silence. “You could’ve trusted me.” Her voice trembles with a mix of hurt and understanding. “That’s… it’s too much to carry on your own.” I nod, my heart sinking as I watch her. “I was supposed to be the one person you can trust without fail.” Her response is soft, laced with a bittersweet longing. 

“I wish I had. Would’ve saved us a world of trouble.” A rueful laugh escapes me, but the silence wraps around us again, thick and palpable. “I’m so sorry, Wren.”

“I want things to go back to how they were. Before death, before everyone leaving, the rebellion.” Her voice drifts like the gentle breeze, a whisper of nostalgia that makes my heart ache. 

“When we were just kids who ran through the tall grass and fell asleep by fires reading?” I ask, my memories blooming around us like wildflowers in spring. 

“Yeah.” The tension eases as she calms down, and I finally allow myself to breathe deeply, the weight of our shared past settling like a comforting blanket. “Is this what insanity feels like?” She asks.

“Are you doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result?” I respond, my lips curling into a smile, and her laughter bubbles up, infectious and bright. “You’ve been through a lot in the last 24 hours, Wren. On top of carrying so much by yourself because of your signets.” I reach up, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, feeling the warmth radiating from her. “If you were perfectly okay right now, I’d be more concerned.” 

“He’s really there?” she asks, the question hanging between us and I know she’s asking about Harlow.. 

“I wanted to tell you, but it was safer for him to stay hidden until you were out of Basgiath. He was going to be part of your graduation gift.” My heart races at the thought, eager to share that sliver of hope with her.

The weight of the world seems to settle around us like a heavy blanket as Wren lays back on the grass, her voice laced with a blend of despair and humor. “Sucks that I’m dead when we get back.” She groans, the lush green blades whispering beneath her as she sinks into their embrace. “I can’t even enjoy him being alive because it’s all I can think about.” I let out a soft chuckle, trying to lighten the somber atmosphere. “Then let's live a lifetime before we go back.” I shift, mirroring her position and turning onto my side, the coolness of the earth seeping through my clothing as I lock my gaze onto hers. 

Her brow furrows slightly, curiosity igniting in her eyes. “How?”

A carefree shrug escapes me, yet the fervor bubbling within is genuine. “Make a list of what you had planned for your life, and let’s do it.” The challenge lingers in the air, a spark igniting between us as she rolls up to meet my gaze, her expression shifting from doubt to intrigue.

“Sunrise Flights?” she asks, her lips curving into a tentative smile.

“Done.” 

“Graduate?” she presses on, her spirit beginning to rise like the morning sun.

“We’ll throw you your own ceremony,” I assure her, our laughter mingling, brightening the shadows around us.

“Get married?” Her voice falters slightly, and I can sense the weight of the question, a stab to my chest. 

“Tell me when, where and who, and I’ll make sure it happens.” It's a stab to the chest to ask and I pray to Loial that the answer is still me.

“I only ever wanted you,” she whispers, vulnerability threading through her voice.

“Then marry me, Wren.” My words pour out before I can second-guess them. “I’d marry you even if you weren’t on the chopping block.” I tease, reaching for her sides, hoping to coax that melodic laughter from her once more.

“You’ve broken my heart so many times, Xaden. I can’t live my life like that.” There’s an ache in her tone, a lingering fear that pulls at my heartstrings. “Plus even if I do live beyond our arrival, you graduate in 6 days.”

“Then let's make a deal.” I pull her up gently, my fingers entwined with hers as I stand. “When you live—because I refuse to think of a world where you’ll be gone—we write letters until—”

“Threshing,” she interjects, the word bursting forth like a beacon of hope, illuminating the somber landscape of our conversation. Joy ignites in her eyes, a spark that scatters the clouds of despair hovering above us. “If we’re in a good place by threshing, then you can do a proper proposal.” 

I nod, my heart swelling with the promise of the future. Her words resonate with me; they are not just a glimmer of possibility but a commitment to the joys that life can still offer, a shared path we can walk together. “As you deserve,” I reply softly, the sincerity of my voice echoing in the silence that envelops us.

With a smile that could rival the sun breaking through the horizon, she proposes, “We seal it after my graduation.” Her hand extends towards me, the gesture a tangible manifestation of hope and determination. “One year, no full commitments until our decision at Threshing.”

I gaze at her outstretched palm, and for a fleeting moment, my heart races at the thought of sealing this promise. “No commitments,” I affirm, but instead of shaking her hand, I lift it gently, pressing a kiss against her skin. The warmth of her touch ignites a flame within me, and as I pull away, the weight of that kiss lingers like the fading light of day. “One year,” I promise, my voice steady, brimming with the conviction of my feelings.

With a soft sigh, I take a step back, the cool night air wrapping around me like an old friend. “Your old room is still available, or you can take mine and I’ll go find another room,” I offer, my heart urging her to find comfort and rest after the tumultuous events that have unfolded. “You should rest and then talk to your father in the morning. I think you both need it.” 

“Thank you, Xay,” she replies, her voice barely above a whisper, but it carries the weight of gratitude and trust. 

“Anything for you, Little Bird.”

Recovered Correspondence from Cadet Xaden Riorson to Cadet Wrenley Tavis

July 3, 634 AU

Little Bird,

It’s strange, writing to you after so long of always being around each other. It’s not the same, but it’s something. And I’ll take something over silence.

I saw you walking with your father today. You looked… lighter. Not because things are easy, but because maybe, for the first time in a while, something is right. You deserve that. Him, too. He never stopped asking about you. Even when he knew better than to expect answers.

He said he wasn't surprised you were the smartest in your year. Said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Like your mother would’ve said the same and probably did—loudly, and more than once.

Garrick made us spar this morning. Claimed it was routine but he was going easy on me, which is insulting considering I still knocked him flat. He’s mad I didn’t tell him about your father. About Aretia. Probably still mad about you, too. I get it. I’m mad at myself, too.

Bodhi says you’ve been training again. Said you’re finally using your signet like it was made for war, not hiding. I laughed when he told me you made him miss every hit until he got desperate. But the part where Garrick ate dirt? I wish I got to witness that.

If you’re up for it, I’ll be at the ridge before sunrise. No expectations but I'd be honored if you joined me for an early flight.

It’s good to see you smile, even if it’s not mine anymore.

—X

Recovered Correspondence from Cadet Wrenley Tavis to Cadet Xaden Riorson

July 4, 634 AU

Xaden,

It is strange—getting a letter from you again. 

I don’t know how to talk to him. My father. I spent years mourning a man who wasn’t dead, building walls around a hole that didn’t need to exist. Now he’s here, like he never left, trying to make up for time that passed like it didn’t rip both of us apart. I keep waiting for it to feel real. But sometimes it does. In the quiet. When he’s not trying so hard to fix what broke. Just existing. Being here. And then I see pieces of my mother in his eyes and I can breathe again.

You’re right—he does talk about her. And me. A lot. It’s infuriating and comforting all at once. Like most things in my life lately.

Bodhi exaggerates. I didn’t make him miss. He walked into a swing like he forgot how momentum works. And I definitely didn’t make Garrick face-plant. I made him stumble and gravity did most of the work. Still, it felt good to be… me again. Even if I’m still figuring out what that means.

As for the sunrise flight—I'm sorry I didn't show. Not because I didn’t want to. I did. But I think I needed to know if you’d offer again. (Petty? Probably. Worth it? Definitely.)

But if you're serious about trying us or trying whatever this is becoming, I was thinking something less dramatic. 

A picnic. Just like before. Just food, and the sky, and enough space between us to decide what comes next. I’ll bring the wine if you bring the bread this time. 

Let me know. Or don’t. I’ll still go.

—Wrenley

W R E N L E Y

The note was waiting just inside my–Xaden’s–door.

Downstairs. Sunset. – X

I stared at it for a long time, turning the parchment over like it might reveal more than those two words. No apology. No explanation. Just instructions.

And yet… I was already lacing up my boots before I realized it.

I made my way downstairs, expecting to find him waiting in that infuriating way he always did—arms crossed, leaning against the wall like he’d planned the whole world and was just waiting for it to catch up.

Instead, I found Garrick and Bodhi.

Which immediately felt like I was walking into a trap.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered.

Bodhi just grinned like I’d already made his night. “You clean up well, Princess. Need a basket to match?”

He held it out like this was perfectly normal. The smell of warm bread and something sharp and sweet drifted up from the covered top.

“I swear, if this is some group bonding exercise disguised as a romantic stunt, I will force both of you to scrub the stone floors.”

“It’s not,” Garrick said, shoving a folded blanket into my arms like he wanted the interaction to be over with. “We’re just the forced delivery boys.”

“Volunteer delivery boys,” Bodhi corrected. “We’re sick of watching you two pretend you don’t care. So. Go.”

I eyed them both. “If I get stood up, I’ll find a way to make you regret helping.”

“He’s there,” Garrick said. “Trust me, he wouldn’t do this for just anyone. He's not playing games this time.”

The walk to the oak grove was slower than it needed to be. Every step kicked up old memories—training days, shared secrets, stashed letters under floorboards. We used to come here to escape the politics and the pressure. Before war made escape a myth.

I reached the grove just as the sun began its descent, painting everything in gold and shadow. The old oak tree was still there, thick and unmoving, like time hadn’t touched it even if it had leveled everything else.

I laid out the blanket in silence, setting the basket down carefully. I didn’t even have time to lift the lid before his voice slipped into the air behind me.

“Hey.”

“I didn’t think you’d come.” I didn’t turn right away but when I did, my breath caught in my lungs. 

Xaden stood a few paces away, hands tucked into his pockets, hair slightly damp like he’d just come from a shower. Shadows and sunlight warred across his face, but his eyes—those onyx eyes sparkling with golden flecks—are steady on me. He looked tired in the way people do when they’ve been carrying guilt for too long.

I turn back to the basket, shaking my head as I open the top and the full force of its contents greet me. “Trying to win me over with baked goods?” I asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“That depends. Still like honeyed cheese?”

I rolled my eyes, but my lips twitched. “You remembered?”

“I remember everything about you, Wren.” 

That silenced me. I busied myself pulling out our picnic as Xaden took a seat across from me and we ate in silence. 

Until Xaden spoke. “Do you remember the day my mom left?”

I paused for a second, then nodded. “You didn’t come to the stables after lunch. The boys thought you were sick.”

“I was.” His voice was level, but something flickered behind it. “Just not the kind of sick the medics could fix.”

I remembered. I remembered how I sent Garrick and Bodhi out on our usual ride and ran towards his room, the muffled cries that came from behind the door. I remembered how when he finally opened it and didn’t say a word—just looked like someone had carved out half his soul and left the wound open–I wrapped my arms around him and refused to let go.

“You were the only one who came looking,” he said.

“No one deserves to be alone on their birthday.” I murmur. “You always said nothing could hurt you. I think that was the first time I ever saw you cry.”

He huffed something like a laugh. “I cried harder a week later.”

I looked at him, startled. “What?”

“You saw me. I thought of you as Garrick’s annoying little cousin but you were still there for me.” he said simply. “I was really seeing how amazing you were and then a week later… you refused to leave with your parents until you said goodbye to me.”

My stomach twisted. “You already had your mom leave without a word. You didn’t deserve to lose someone else the same way.”

“I thought I lost everything that month,” he said. “But then your letter showed up. Ink-smudged, tear-stained, full of spelling errors.”

“You still remember that?”

“I memorized it.” He says. “I hate it here. I wish I was still in Aretia with you. Even if you, Garrick, and Bodhi tried to leave me behind most days, it’s better than not knowing anyone.” He recites and I just watch him in awe. “I remember telling you that you were capable of making friends with anyone.”

“I started hanging out with Violet and Dain after you wrote back.”  We sat in that memory like it was a shared language. Like neither of us needed to explain what that kind of connection had meant back then. “You were my safe place,” I try to explain anyways. “Even when we were just writing. Especially then.”

He nodded once. “That’s what made it worse. What I did.”

“You didn’t just hurt me,” I said, finally meeting his eyes. “You broke parts of me I didn’t know could break. I didn’t expect you to protect me from the world. I expected you not to become one more thing I had to survive.”

His throat worked around something unsaid. “I know. And I hate that I gave you another reason not to trust someone.”

“When did you realize it?” I asked. “That you’d gone too far with the secrets?”

He didn’t hesitate. “The day you looked at me like I was a stranger. After I kissed Violet. I saw it in your face—that I wasn’t someone you loved anymore. I was just another piece of rubble in the wreckage.” I swallowed hard. “But I never stopped choosing you. Even when it didn’t look like it.

“I’m not asking for all of you,” he says. “Just the part that remembers who we were. And maybe the part that still wonders who we could be.”

I don’t reach for his hand. That would’ve been too much. Instead, I hooked my pinky through his. Like we’re still those teenagers bouncing around how we really feel.

“You remember how to do that trick with the cheese?” I asked again, voice softer.

His smile was the kind I hadn’t seen in years—honest and unguarded. “More than I should.”

“Then do it,” I said, handing him a piece. “Earning your way back won’t be easy, but impressing me is a start.”

We didn’t talk much after that. Just ate, watched the stars appear, and let the silence sit between us without pressure. Without expectations. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t waiting for him to ruin it. And that… that felt like something real.

Recovered Correspondence from Cadet Xaden Riorson to Cadet Wrenley Tavis

July 5, 634 AU

Wren,

Thank you for joining me on that flight this morning. It was good–great. I had fun.

I’m not sure what all to write since we’ve spent most of the last twelve hours together so I figured I’d tell you about one of my favorite memories of us.

Do you remember that day you and your father returned to Aretia? Your Uncle and Garrick waited outside for you all day but you could have cared less, because instead of greeting your family, you ran into the middle of me and Bodhi sparring to hug me.

And in that moment, I knew I was already yours. In whatever way you wanted me because I only ever knew peace in your arms. (Even if you did cover my favorite shirt in snot because of how hard you were crying.)

Yesterday was the first time I felt peace like that moment in years. And it wasn’t the food, or the sky, or the fact that Bodhi packed three bottles of wine like we were going to war with sobriety.

It was you. 

Thank you for coming back to the sky with me.

If you want to do it again, I’ll be there. Same time. Same place.

I won’t ask, but I’ll always hope.

–Xay

Recovered Correspondence from Cadet Xaden Riorson to Cadet Wrenley Tavis

July 5, 634 AU

Xay,

Desa would like me to remind you (and Sgaeyl) that we definitely won that race. I know we didn’t. But she’s smug about it, so let her have it. Apparently “hitting the ground first counts as winning.” 

That day was probably the best and worst days of my life. I was so distraught over my mom’s death that I hadn’t slept, hadn’t eaten, I hardly spoke to anyone. But the minute I saw the silhouette of Aretia? It felt like life breathing into me.

I did skip past Garrick and my uncle, but it was because I knew you would understand better than anyone, and you wouldn’t pity me. You just held me while I cried (I’ve apologized for that shirt a hundred) and let me feel it with comfort.

I wouldn’t see anyone else because I only wanted you. Not to fix me. Not even to understand me. Just to hold me. And I knew—if I ever let someone own a part of me, it would be the boy who waited silently because he knew I’d come when I was ready.

So don’t pretend you didn’t already have me, too.

Now for the question I’ve been circling around…

How is Violet?

Is she still unconscious? I’ve been meaning to check, but I didn’t want to show up and make it a scene. I know she’s strong—no one bonds two dragons and throws lightning around like a party trick without being strong—but even strength breaks under the wrong kind of weight.

If you know anything, I trust you’ll tell me what you can.

Thank you for the flight. And the silence. And the letter. Maybe I’ll meet you at the ridge tomorrow. Or maybe you’ll have to wait again. (You’ve always been good at waiting.)

—Wrenley

I found my father leaning against the railing of the upper courtyard, his mug cradled in one hand, the other resting casually on the stone. He gazed down below, the familiar intensity of a healer turned commanding officer still etched in his posture, though now softened by the years. He looks more like the man I grew up looking up to at this moment, and it’s still weird.

He didn’t look over when I approached; he never does. It was as if the very fabric of our connection granted him the ability to sense my presence, a quiet understanding that needed no words. 

“Your mother would’ve told them all to shut up and sit down by now,” he said, nodding toward Garrick and Bodhi, whose playful bickering echoed off the stone walls as they circled each other in the makeshift sparring ring. The sight of them—lively and animated—brought a flicker of warmth to my heart, a reminder of the family we’d once had. “Probably thrown her boot at Garrick by now.” 

I leaned against the railing beside him, the cool stone a comforting anchor as I folded my arms. A brisk breeze danced around us, tousling my hair and inviting the scents of fresh earth and blooming flowers to fill my lungs. “The most impatient woman, and yet she married you, the most patient man alive.”

“We balance each other out.” He smirked, a glimmer of mischief lighting up his eyes. “How are things with Xaden?” 

I hesitated, feeling the weight of his words. “I’m not sure I know how to let him close again,” I admit, a tremor in my words. “But I’m also not sure I know how not to.”

“You don’t have to make a decision overnight,” he reassured me, his tone steady. “Love isn’t a battlefield, Wrenley.”

I turned to look at him, lifting an eyebrow in disbelief. “You’re quoting fairytales at me?” 

“Your mother loved that line,” he said, a wistful laugh escaping his lips. “Used it right before she kissed me in the infirmary after breaking a first year’s nose.” 

My heart twisted painfully at the thought. “I miss her, now more than ever.”

He met my gaze then, his eyes searching mine with an intensity that felt almost too much to bear. “She’d be proud of who you are, you know.” 

“Some days I’m not even sure who I am anymore,” I confessed quietly, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on me like a heavy cloak.

He nodded, the warmth in his eyes a beacon of comfort. “That’s how I know she’d be proud. You’ve lost almost everything and still managed to stay soft where it mattered.” 

The words hung in the air, rich with unspoken truths, wrapping around me like a delicate thread that sought to mend the frayed edges of my heart. I blinked hard, fighting the sudden swell of emotion that threatened to spill over. “You always know what to say,” I murmured, my voice barely more than a whisper.

“Only because I know you, Little Bird.” His hand found my shoulder, a gentle touch that anchored me amid the rising tide of uncertainty. The familiar weight of his affection settled in my chest, warming the chill of doubt. As he withdrew his hand, I glanced toward the stone corridor just off the courtyard, an unspoken invitation to the world beyond our quiet moment. “I think you’re needed,” he urged, his gaze flickering with a hint of urgency. 

Before I could fully gather my thoughts, a voice called my name, sharp and insistent. 

“Wrenley!” Xaden’s voice cut through the serene atmosphere, his urgency almost tangible. He seemed to slide across the stone floor, his form a striking silhouette against the brilliance of the day. Reaching out, he gripped the railing for balance, a flicker of something intense burning in his dark gaze. “Violet’s awake." 

“That’s not going to work.” Brennan’s voice sliced through the thick tension in the Assembly room like a dagger, his words echoing against the cold stone walls. “Next suggestion.” 

We’ve been here for hours, and frustration swirled around me, heavy like the stale air that hung between the Assembly. My fingers drummed absently on the worn surface of the table, the scratches and nicks a testament to the countless discussions held within these walls. I was beyond weary of the endless cycle of proposals and rejections, feeling as if I were a prisoner to this ceaseless debate.

“Someone has to state the obvious,” Major Farris interjects from the far end of the table, leaning forward, his gaze sharp as he surveys the room with a predatory intensity. 

My attention drifted, caught between my father and Brennan, still reeling from the surreal reality that they were both alive, sitting together in this room. The sight was unsettling, a patchwork of relief and disbelief that clashed within me. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.

Xaden, perched above me to lean on the massive chair he had placed me in. “And what is the obvious thing you need to state, Major Farris?” His tone dripped with boredom, an unspoken disdain for the tedious nature of these diplomatic meetings hanging in the air. I could almost hear the sigh of frustration that accompanied his words.

“Returning is the only option,” Ferris continued, his voice unwavering as he leaned back, arms crossed, confident in his stance. “Not doing so risks everything we’re building here. Search patrols will come, and we don’t have enough riders—”

“It’s a little hard to recruit while trying to stay undetectable,” Trissa chimed in, her voice firm. I recognized her from before the rebellion, her fiery spirit unyielding even amidst the fraying tensions.

“Let’s not get off topic, Trissa,” my father added, the softness in his gaze lingering on her, a fleeting warmth amid the frost of strategy. A note to self: ask about that later.

“No point increasing our numbers without a working forge to arm them with weapons.” Ferris’s voice rose, breaking through the intertwining threads of conversation. “We’re still short a luminary, if you haven’t noticed.”

“And where are we in negotiations with Viscount Tecarus for his?” 

“Still working on a diplomatic solution,” Brennan replied, his tone carrying the weight of responsibility.

“There’s no solution. Tecarus isn’t over the insult you delivered two years ago.” Kylynn's piercing gaze was locked on Xaden, a challenge hanging unspoken between them.

“He was never going to give it to us even if I did marry his niece.” Xaden’s voice, low and resolute, cut through the swirling tension that hung in the air like a storm cloud waiting to break. He rested a comforting hand on my shoulder, the warmth of his touch juxtaposed against the chill of uncertainty that gripped us. His fingers squeezed gently, a gesture meant to ground me in the chaos of our negotiations. “But I’ll say the same thing I did then. I have bigger priorities than selling myself for a worthless cause. Besides, everyone knows the man only collects things. He does not trade them.”

The corners of my mouth twitched at the absurdity of the situation, but the humor faded quickly as Kylynn’s voice sliced through my thoughts like a dagger. “Well, he’s definitely not going to trade with us now,” she retorted, her gaze narrowing, icy and unyielding. The tension in her posture radiated through the room, a palpable reminder of the stakes we faced. “Especially if you won’t even contemplate his latest offer.”

“He can fuck right off with his offer.” Xaden’s dismissal was heavy with disdain, and as he squeezed my shoulder once more.

“What offer?” My curiosity piqued, using this opportunity to see if Xaden was serious about always telling the truth.

“He wants to add Violet to his collection, but I refuse to trade in people. It’s too Navarrean.” A chuckle escaped my lips, the absurdity of the notion lighting a brief spark of levity in the grim atmosphere.

“There had better be a solution.” Felix’s voice echoed with urgency, his brow furrowed in deep concentration. “If we can’t supply the drifts with enough weaponry to really fight in the next year, the tide will shift too far to ever hope of holding the venin advance at bay.” His words hung ominously in the air. “This all will have been for nothing.”

A year already? The weight of his statement settled over me, a leaden realization that the war had crept far too close for comfort.

“As I said, I’m working on a diplomatic solution for the luminary, and we’re so wildly off topic I’m not sure this is the same meeting.” Brennan's voice was firm, laced with a thin thread of frustration as he glared at the elders around the table, their faces etched with worry.

“I vote we take Basgiath’s luminary,” Kylynn suggested, her voice rising in the thick silence, daring to challenge the status quo. “If we’re that close to losing this war, there’s no other option.”

“We’ve been over that,” Brennan said with finality, his tone brokering no argument. “If we take Basgiath’s forging device, Navarre can’t replenish their stores at the outposts. Countless civilians will die if those wards fall. Do any of you want to be responsible for that?” 

As his words fell, silence enveloped the room, a thick blanket that stifled the air and left us all grappling with the weight of our choices.

“Then we agree,” Ferris states, his voice steady yet heavy with the burden of their decision. The weight of responsibility hung in the air like a thick fog, permeating the room with an unshakeable tension. The shadows danced around the flickering candlelight, casting elongated shapes on the walls that mirrored the growing unease within the gathering.

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet, Suri.” My father’s gaze flickers to the last elder seated at the long, mahogany table, a sharp contrast to the rugged map that lay sprawled before us, its inked territories a chilling reminder of our fractured world. 

“I say we send all but the three.” Suri’s words slice through the tension with an alarming calmness. “Six cadets can lie as well as nine.”

My thoughts drift to the faces of Xaden, Garrick, Bodhi, Imogen, Violet, and the lingering absence of Liam and Soleil, their spirits overshadowing this meeting with their loss. 

“None of the none are expendable, Suri.” Felix’s tone takes on a sharp edge as he leans back on the rear two legs of his chair, an act of defiance that seemed to echo in the hearts of all present. His piercing gaze shifts to the expansive map behind Xaden, tracing the lines with an intensity that spoke volumes of our dire situation.

“What do you propose, Felix?” Suri counters, the subtle arch of her brow a challenge that seemed to hang in the air like a taut string, ready to snap. “Running our own war college with all our spare time? Most of them haven’t finished their education. They’re of no use to us yet.”

“As if any of you has a say in if we return,” Xaden interjects, his voice rising to capture the room’s attention. His presence, strong and unwavering, filled the space around him, a protective shield for those he cared for. “We will take the advice of the Assembly, but it will be taken as only that—advice.”

“We cannot afford to risk your life—” Suri’s argument spills forth, layered with concern and urgency. 

“My life is equal to any of theirs.” Xaden gestures toward the group gathered by the door, a quiet assertion that resonated with a touch of defiance. 

“Not every life,” Suri retorts, her gaze piercing as it lands on Violet. “How could you have stood there and let her overhear the conversation of the Assembly?” 

“If you didn’t want her to hear, you should have closed the door,” Bodhi responds, stepping into the room with an air of indignation that flickered like the flames casting shadows on the walls.

“She cannot be trusted!” Suri’s voice rises, anger twisting into a palpable fear that coursed through her. 

“Xaden has already taken responsibility for her.” Imogen steps forward, subtly shifting closer to Violet, her words a fragile barrier against the gathering storm. An uncomfortable feeling crawls up my spine as I realize the stakes at hand. “As brutal of a custom as it may be.” 

Don’t spiral, don’t spiral, don’t spiral. The mantra echoed in my mind as I tried not to think about my friends defending Violet.

“It’s just to keep her alive so you live, right?” 

“And for Brennan’s sake.” 

“I still don’t understand that particular decision,” Ferris interjected, his tone sharp as a blade. His eyes, dark and searching, flicked to me, and I felt a wave of pressure build in my chest, compelling me to sit up straighter, to brace myself against the scrutiny. “You let an inntinnsic into our meeting.”

“Please,” I said, summoning a steadiness I didn’t quite feel as Xaden’s warning flickered like a candle in the back of my mind. “Speak all of your transgressions with me.”

“Your mother was a loyalist,” Ferris declared, his voice low, each word a strike against my very identity.

“My father sits here, loyal to the revolution,” I countered, my pulse quickening, a sense of defiance swelling within me. 

“You’re an inntinnsic. You could be reading our secrets now.” His accusation hung heavy, a dark shadow cast over the table.

In a moment of reckless instinct, I reached into Ferris’s mind, a place filled with doubt and fear, and he reacted at my wil;, snapping the dagger from his hip across the table with a resonant clang that startled everyone. It landed with a thud directly in front of me, a stark reminder of the tension that crackled in the air. “I’m not that kind of inntinnsic,” I said, frustration mingling with indignation.

“How did you—” Ferris began, his surprise evident.

“She’s also a precog and extremely valuable.” Xaden’s voice interjected, authoritative and commanding as he reached for Ferris’s blade, slipping it smoothly into one of my empty sheaths, a gesture both protective and assertive. “To treat her as the enemy will make an enemy out of me.”

“Well—” Ferris faltered, the storm of emotions swirling around the table suddenly interrupted.

“Forget the Tavis girl.” Kylynn points back to Violet “She’s General Sorrengail’s daughter.”

“And I’m the general’s son,” Brennan countered, his voice firm yet tinged with unease.

“And you’ve more than proven your loyalty over the last six years!” Kylynn shouted, her voice rising above the murmur of dissent. “She hasn’t!”

“She fought at our side at Resson.” Bodhi’s tone was urgent, tension rippling through him as his voice climbed.

“She should be confined.” Suri’s face flushed crimson, the anger boiling within her as she pushed away from the table, the sound of her chair scraping against the floor sharp in the silence. “Both of them should. They can ruin us all with what they know.”

“Agreed.” Ferris regained his composure, his alliance with Suri solidifying as he echoed her sentiment. “They’re too dangerous not to keep prisoner.”

“I alone am responsible for Violet.” Xaden’s voice lowered, laced with malice as he glared at the gathering. “And if I’m not enough, there are not one but two dragons who have already vouched for her integrity.”

Violet's voice sliced through the air with a razor's edge, her frustration palpable. “She is standing right here,” she snapped, her eyes flashing with a mix of defiance and desperation. “So stop talking about me and try talking to me.” I couldn't help but feel a swell of pride at her boldness, a flicker of light in the darkened chamber. The corner of Xaden’s mouth lifted ever so slightly, a ghost of a smile that illuminated his usually stoic demeanor. Yet, I felt the weight of tension coiling tighter around us, and I repeated my mental mantra like a lifeline: don’t spiral, don’t spiral, don’t spiral.

Violet continued, her voice shaking with anger and conviction. “What do you want from me? Want me to walk Parapet and prove my bravery? Done. Want me to betray my kingdom by defending Poromish citizens? Done. Want me to keep his secrets? Done. I kept every secret.” Each word resonated through the room, a challenge that ignited the air with electric intensity.

Suri's voice cut through the charged atmosphere like a knife, her eyebrow arching in skepticism. “Except the one that mattered.” The accusation hung heavily, a pall of judgment that seemed to settle on Violet’s shoulders. “We all know how you ended up in Athebyne.” 

I shifted in my chair, feeling an unsettling mix of sympathy and frustration for Violet. “She wasn’t the only one betrayed by a friend.” My voice was barely a whisper, but the sincerity behind it felt like a thunderclap in the tense silence. I slunk back into my chair, feeling the comforting weight of Xaden’s hand on my shoulder still—a small gesture, yet it grounded me amidst the turmoil.

“No first-year could withstand a memory reader, especially one considered a friend.” Felix turned his steely gaze on Violet. “But you have to know that you have enemies at Basgiath now. Should you return, you must know that Aetos will not be among your friends. He will do everything he can to kill you for what you’ve seen.” 

“I know,” Violet replied, her voice steady, though I could see the flicker of fear in her eyes—a spark that threatened to ignite into a full-blown blaze of panic.

Felix nodded, his expression softening just slightly as he concluded, “Then let this be a lesson learned.” 

Xaden’s voice rang out, firm and unwavering. “We are done here.” His gaze locked onto Suri’s and Ferris’s, a silent command that pulled their shoulders down in resignation. 

“I’ll expect an update on Zolya in the morning,” Brennan announced, his authority unmistakable. “Consider this Assembly meeting adjourned.” With that, the council members began to push in their chairs, the sound echoing like a distant thunderstorm as they filed out of the room, each of their faces etched with the weight of uncertainty.

As the last remnants of the council dispersed, I stood from my chair, and Xaden turned to meet my gaze, his dark eyes piercing through the tension that still clung to the air like fog. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and filled with concern.

“Fine,” I replied, though the lie sat heavy on my tongue. “But I could use a flight.” 

Xaden’s grip tightened around my hand, a reassuring warmth that contrasted the chill of the room. As we turned to leave, we passed by Violet, who still stood at the table, her brow furrowed in contemplation.

“We’re headed up to the valley. Meet us when you’re done,” Xaden instructed her, his tone a blend of authority and gentleness.

“I’ll go with you now,” Violet protested, her urgency palpable, the need for connection evident in the desperation of her voice.

“Stay and talk to your brother,” Xaden countered softly. “Who knows when you’ll get another chance.” 

Xaden guided me out, with Garrick, Bodhi, and Imogen following closely behind, their presence a comforting reminder of our shared bonds amidst the chaos.

As we stepped outside the walls of Riorson House, I inhaled deeply, the crisp air filling my lungs, awakening the part of me that craved the thrill of flight. But as the words escaped my lips, I felt a surge of determination swelling within me. “We have to go back but I think I have a plan.” 

A fleeting shadow crossed his face, revealing the weight of concern that coiled tightly in his chest. “You do?” he ventured, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” I confirmed, my heart thrumming a frantic rhythm against my ribcage. “You won’t like it.” I could see the gears turning in Xaden’s mind, the way his brow furrowed deeper.

“What do you need?” he asked, his tone steady, yet laced with an undercurrent of trepidation. In that moment, I could sense that he already knew what I was planning to do.

“I have to detour to the Infantry Quadrant when we get back.” The admission felt like a declaration of war with the way Xaden's spine straightened. 

“That’s what I was afraid of.” 

next part

Everything Taglist: @lxnvmvrzx @bodhidurrans @bookwormysblog @nikfigueiredo @fictionalrelapse

Chasing Shadows Taglist: @hiraethjules @fangirling-galore @sande5098 @javden @littlepippilongstocking @what-will-be-your-verse @xadenstyles @daisydark @messageforthesmallestman @taleiaargenis @littleemissperfecttt @nesiris21

[emryslore]

if you ever get into merthur i'd love a rec, i love your other recs sm <3

Hi Anon!

I do love merthur myself so I wanted to share my favourites I've read recently! Thank you for the ask! I hope you enjoy!

A Language With No Words (E) 55k by neptunesyellowsands

Its a really incredible long fic with a sequel

A little smile had touched Arthur’s lips, drawing up the corners of his mouth. He’d looked keen and kind, and like he’d just solved one of the greatest mysteries of all time. And part of Merlin had wanted to point out the idiocy of having missed this rather obvious detail until now, but that part was drowned out entirely by the feel of Arthur’s eyes locked onto his, of being on the receiving end of his smile. Not the cocky ones or the condescending ones, but this one, this one right here, small and soft and warm. The sun was streaming in through the window, and, for a moment, Arthur’s hair and his skin and all of the world Merlin could see was golden, and that was it. That was all it had taken. Merlin was absolutely, unequivocally not his own from then on. Merlin arrives at Camlann just in time. When the truth comes out, will Arthur accept him? Will they be able to face the feelings each of them has for the other? Will they ultimately defeat Morgana - together? This is the story as it might have ended if things had been just a little bit different.

tempest in a teacup (get unique) (G) 1.6k by trickytricko

A retelling of s1 ep10 with outside pov

Hunith watched the two young men for a moment, her expression softening as she took in the easy camaraderie between them. It was clear that Merlin had found more than just a prince to serve in Arthur. He had found a friend, a companion; something that she knew was incredibly rare for someone in his position. *** a partial retelling of ep.10 season 1 featuring Hunith's "he likes you!!" bc we love how she ships it.

I choose you and me religiously (E) 111k by koffeinkaos

Not completed but oh its so good it has everything a long term merthur fan would want

It sniffed the air. "Emrys? Magic itself serving a Pendragon, Uther's son, a corrupted Camelot." The raven haired man tensed at those words a jolt of fear rushing through his body. But he couldn't get distracted now. He pressed the panic down so hard, he felt like he might vomit. He was turned to the monster, all the knights were behind him, so he couldn't see the shocked expressions on his friends faces when the words sank in. Lancelot tried to get closer to Arthur in case he wouldn't take the revelation well, but one of the wolves bared his teeth and snapped at him warningly. So far Arthur had only stilled. His hands had fallen uselessly to his sides, eyes fixed on the back of Merlin's head. "I don't serve the king and I don't serve Camelot. I only serve Arthur. I am loyal only to him. If you touch him, you'll die." Another vicious snarl left the wolf's throat. "We'll see." ---- Or Merlin has to reveal his magic to save his friends and Arthur is head over heels for him. Gay fluff with plot and a bit of smut in between (warnings in the chapters for that) Have fun reading

in this and every life (T) 26k by winterbucky (winterbuckyy)

And ofc last but not least here we have some good old OP merlin, yearning and dimensional travel

Over 10 years after their memories return, Arthur, Gwen, and the Knights have to make peace with the heartbreaking fact that the might never find Merlin and Leon again. It's as if by chance that Gwaine finds people who look just like them, in some club in Florence of all places. So, despite their friends' disbelief, Arthur and Gwaine set out to find their missing pieces Merlin and Leon have long made peace with their immortality, and they're thriving in the life they lead, even through their friends are lost to them. They're not expecting to see them every again A chance encounter of the four men sends them on a wild journey through the and universes, trying desperately to find their way to each other. And maybe find other versions of themselves along the way or dimension time travel with a lot of yearning, powerful merlin, friendship and feels, battles, and happy endings

[raitonsfw]

fuck her, flip her, bend her backwards....

...baby, put your back into it. smash it, grab it, go bananas–

–listen, i'm gon' talk you through it.

jjk men: positions edition

characters: gojo satoru, geto suguru, okkotsu yūta, kamo chōsō, & sukuna ryōmen.

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, fem!reader, {s}ex positions, breast play, clit play, p in v intercourse, creampies, pussywhipped!gojo, asswhipped!geto (idk he just loves ass, is there a name for that?), intimate!yūta, slight sub!chōsō, rough!sukuna, mirror {s}ex (geto's), cockwarming (chōsō's), choking (sukuna's), true form sukuna (sadly just one 🍆), one line of filthy dialogue.

a/n: just a tiny paragraphed snippet for y'all. used this guide for most of the position names. wc: 1.3k. m.list

now playing: sloppy seconds (ick pt. 2) by lay bankz

divider credit: @benkeibear

❝𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮❞ missionary & flux. 

gojo puts you in several positions within the first five minutes of fucking– you didn’t even know you were this flexible until your legs were high in the air, his cock drilling into you with his hands holding your calves. his hair stuck to his forehead, droplets of sweat rolling down the sides of his temples as his tongue lolled out of his mouth at the insane pleasure coursing through him. he just loved being sooo deep in you, your walls tightening around his cock as he dragged against your g-spot with precision. and with a low groan, he’d have you on your tummy within seconds, his cock slipping back into you and his hips setting another fast rhythm inside you that made your head spin and your thighs tremble. his hands trailing towards the mounds of your breasts, fondling them as he watched his cock slide through your arousal, a creamy white ring forming at the base. god, he’d froth at the mouth at that– his hips faltering and his eyes squeezing shut ‘cause it was just too much for him. he’d finish in you in record time, his final position being you on top of him, riding the living shit out of him as his lips sucked against your chest, his eyes gazing up at you as you feathered your hand in his hair– moans vibrating against your skin as his eyebrows furrowed and his eyelashes dipped, his cock twitching at his release crashing through him. 

“fuck, fuck– stay like that for me, wait– no, here– fuck back on me like this… let me see you.”

❝𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮❞ reverse cowgirl. 

geto has you looking towards the mirror on the opposite wall of the bed, your ass rippling with every bounce on his thick cock. his hands would barely hold you steady– he’s too hyper focused on your ass, his eyes practically half-lidded and lustful from the way it moved against him. you watched him through the mirror, reveling in the way his chest heaved with light pants and the occasional lip bite as he tried his best to hold back his moans. he never was a loud one, much to your discretion but if you moved just right– you could get him to let out a satisfying groan of your name. his eyes would meet yours in the mirror a few times, his hands gripping onto the flesh of your hips even tighter as he noticed your fucked out expression. the dim violet of them would then squeeze shut, his head tipping back as you fucked down faster on him– moans now leaving his lips as he started to roll his hips in time with yours. his hair would frame his face, cascading down his broadened shoulders and down his back with such a lovely shine– such a shame you couldn’t grip onto it. your hands would find his slightly raised knees, situating yourself enough to get you there with a broken cry and as you convulsed around him– you felt his seed leak out of you and around his cock, a silent groan most likely leaving his lips that you knew he suppressed.

“shit– y/n, keep going… driving me crazy looking like this… yeah, just like that– fuck on me some more.”

❝𝐨𝐤𝐤𝐨𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐲𝐮𝐮𝐭𝐚❞ lotus. 

yūta has you in his lap, languid eyes rolling into the back of his head as you both meet in the middle. his hands are wrapped around your waist, massaging his thumbs gently in circles as you roll your hips down on his– his cock pulsating with every movement. it was extremely intimate and you could very well see the blush that he sported, the pinkish hue of it creeping down his neck slightly as he tried so hard not to look too fucked out; but you knew him and how sensitive he was. everything made him quiver in your grasp, his entire body shuddering in the midst of the pleasure every once in a while– it was really cute. once the both of you really got going, your hands would brace the back of his thighs as you leaned back to let him fully fuck into you. your breasts would bounce with every thrust, one hand trailing towards them and another towards your clit as he gaped at you– his eyes not really knowing where to look or rather, what gorgeous part of you to focus on. to watch your breasts jiggle in his palm, to watch his cock slide in and out of your arousal, or to watch your face as it contorted in pleasure from your orgasm? it was all too much for him as he blew his load into you with a loud groan– his body tensing and trembling as it coursed through his veins with so much force.

“ah–! baby, please… ‘nough teasing– don’t point it out, it’s embarrassing… lean back for me?”

❝𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨❞ cowgirl. 

chōsō has you on top of him– well, actually you put yourself there. if it weren’t for his endless pleas, you’d be soaking in the bath right now, but he wanted you on him the second you got back from wherever you were. he wasn’t used to actually fucking you yet– the tip of his cock so sensitive that once he thrusted into you more than three times he’d spill into you with a needy whine. so you had to fuck him at your own pace– or milk him dry. whatever came first. as you sunk down on him, the blood from his mark dripped down his cheeks like a damn nosebleed and a raspy groan greeted you as well as his purple eyes fluttering shut. you’d cockwarm him for a while, thumbing at his budded nipples a bit and watching him shudder until he nodded at you silently to continue. his hands would fly straight to your hips as soon as you pulled him out of you, a heady feeling clutching him as you sunk yourself back down much quicker than before. maybe he just liked you better on top of him– instead of fucking you senseless like all the other men before having met the curse. you weren’t a stickler for certain positions and dominant men anyway– you were most happy pleasing your man who would cum in less than three minutes from the sheer pleasure of your pussy.

“wait– don’t move, g-gonna cum–! fuckfuckfuck, pleaaaase don’t move yet. wanna try to last this time around…”

❝𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧❞ doggy style & mating press.

sukuna puts you in a chokehold, your pussy clenching against his throbbing cock as he hovers over you. one of his four arms would hold you hostage, a guttural laugh leaving his mouth as you tremble against his grip– the other three would trace your waist and the front of your body. he kept you steady against him, his hips striking your ass every time he thrusted and making sure his cock bulged where his palm rested on your tummy; he needed to make sure he was stuffing you full. when you’d whine from overstimulation, he’d flip you over and plant his feet to the bed, fucking you in a mating press instead. you’d stop your whining if you had him in view, what a needy little bitch you were– his malicious grin easing you into such a bliss once you saw the materialized lines on his face. his hands would still grip at every place he could reach, heavy pants leaving him now as he fucked down into you with such an intoxicating pace. he would try so hard not to bury his face into your neck, wanting to watch you fall apart from his huge cock instead but he couldn’t help it– he didn’t need you taunting him for his fucked out expression as your pussy squeezed him tightly. he’d fill you up with copious amounts of his seed, reveling in the way it made such a dirty noise from his relentless fucks. 

“huh– can’t handle it, sweetheart? too bad, fucking suffer through it. holy shit– you’re so goddamn needy, fine.”

taglist: @izakyun | @classyempathmongercloud | @satorawrrr | @noxioustoxin | @rubyparsonx | @mazzd4

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

[starlightsuffered]

Can you write something where timothee has a massive dick. Like its the first time the reader is seeing this and she's shocked. It takes a while for her to get use too. And timothee goes from not knowing he's that big to being cocky about his size. Thnaks

Cocky

Warnings - teasing, begging, smut, unprotected sex, masturbation, cumming on face.

"No it doesn't hurt, it feels great," I answered my friend.

"No, babes, if only I could show you. It's soooo big, yes bigger than his. It's like an instant pantie dropper," I told her. "Thick too, it feels like I'm getting porn dick or something."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, it's always the skinny ones. Sometimes I call it his third arm," I giggled. "I know I'm disgusting."

"You cannot tell him any of this though, his ego is big enough as it is."

"I don't know, I think my ego could get a little bigger," I heard my boyfriend's taunting voice say.

"Shit, I'll call you back later," I said to my friend. I turned slowly, to find Timothée leaning against the wall with a large smirk on his face.

"Hey Tim," I said.

"You know I heard your whole conversation right. I think you thought I was out, but I was in the office."

"Fuck," I whispered.

"Hey, don't be grumpy, after all, you're getting porn dick," he chuckled as he moved closer to me.

"Shut up," I said folding my arms.

"What's it like having a boyfriend with three arms?" He asked, and tried to kiss me, I moved my head so he got my cheek.

"So feisty," he said, with bright eyes. Then he stepped back an inch or two. He slowly unbuckled his belt. I heard the sound of his zipper. I tried not to look, I really did, but I couldn't help but peek just a little.

Timothée's bottom half was bare. His cock stood at attention, pointing at me as if it knew what I'd said too.

"Instant pantie dropper," he whispered as he closed in on me again. He was kissing my neck, and I felt his length pressing against my thigh.

"Fuck it," I snapped and pulled him to me, kissing him fiercely. I felt him smirk into the kiss, but I wanted him too badly to care.

"You want my cock baby? Huh? You want it so bad don't you? Mouth or pussy?"

"Pussy," I whimpered. I peeled off his shirt, licking a stripe up his chest. He was nearly ripping my clothes with his eagerness to get them off.

He began to drag his cock through my folds. I moaned at the teasing, but he just laughed.

"Come on Timmy, fuck me," I pleaded.

"Beg me," he said in a sing-song tone.

"Please Timothée, I want your cock," I begged.

"Gonna need a little more than that Mon Amor," he told me, reveling in his power. "How 'bout you describe it for me?

"Tim, I want your big, thick, cock to ruin me, please, I need you," I amended, feeling truly needy.

"Ah," Timothée said, rolling his hips into me. "That's better."

He was merciless, pounding into me so fast I could barely comprehend it. I was clinging to him, hoping I wouldn't fall over from pleasure. He had his hands on my hips.

"Your knees weak baby? Does my cock make you weak?"

"No," I gritted out.

"Your face says otherwise sweetheart," he chuckled.

"I, Oh," I moaned, unable to argue back.

"So big," he teased, now moving his hips slowly, so I felt every inch of him. "Feel that baby, how long it takes me to fill you."

"It's average," I managed to pant. Timothée just laughed.

"It was nice to hear you brag about me, usually you're so mean," he tutted. "I don't know why you lie so much, you can't even fit all of me in your mouth, you have to use your hand to help."

"You're so damn cocky," I growled as he picked up the pace again, and he easily hit my G spot.

"Well, when you've got a pantie dropper, you can afford a little cockiness."

He reached up to roll one of my nipples between his fingers. I was in pure bliss. He felt so good stretching me out like this.

"Don't stop," I begged.

"There's my nice girl," he hummed. I pulled him to me, sucking on his tongue.

"You're magical," he breathed, and I felt my heart do a happy spin.

"Where do you want my cum baby, let me know," he said, and I noticed a new sloppiness to his thrusts.

"On my face," I want you all over me," I begged. He pulled out, and I got on my knees and opened my mouth. He let out a whine at the sight of me as he pumped himself. I rolled my clit and came just as he began to anoint my face with his cum. I felt some of the salty essence land on my tongue, and I swallowed gratefully. I licked my lips, wanting more of him.

"Fuck you look so sexy," he moaned as he started coming down. I swiped two fingers along my cheek and put them in my mouth.

"Shit," he panted. "Let's go again."

[voidofsunlight]

Blaise Zabini — NSFW ALPHABET

Word Count: 1,620

A/N: Hello! 🩷 I appreciate your patience while I’ve been less active! Don’t be afraid to send in requests or messages! And as always—enjoy ✨😊

LINKS: 🧸 my C.ai profile! // 📜 my main masterlist! // 🫂 Click here to send me a request or message

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

Immaculate. Blaise takes care of everything—cleaning you up, running a bath, pulling you into his arms. He moves like he has all the time in the world, tender yet possessive, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, anywhere he can reach.

Expect to be held against his chest, his voice low and smooth as he murmurs,

“Breathe, beautiful. I’ve got you.”

His fingers trace lazy patterns on your skin, grounding you in the warmth of his touch. Even after you’re clean and tucked into bed, he doesn’t let go. He keeps you close, lets you rest against him while he strokes your hair, making sure you know you’re safe. 

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

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

On himself: His handssl—he knows what they do to you, and he revels in it. Whether he’s teasing, guiding, or gripping your thighs, he never lets you forget just how skilled he is.

On you:  Your hips. The way his grip tightens when he pulls you closer. Loves holding them down while he fucks you.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

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

Finishing inside is his favorite—feeling you clench around him, pulling him deeper as he spills into you, the heat of it making him groan against your skin. He likes the way you shudder, the way your body reacts to being filled, the way his name falls from your lips in breathless pleasure.

But he’s not opposed to pulling out and watching it drip down your stomach, across your thighs, making a mess of you. He’ll drag his fingers through it, tracing the slick across your skin

“You look good like this” 

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

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

Blaise has thought about watching you touch yourself while he does the same—just mutual desperation. The idea of you sprawled out, fingers or a toy buried between your thighs, eyes locked on his as he strokes himself, it drives him crazy.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

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

Blaise is skilled—he reads you like a book. He takes his time learning you, learning what youl ike.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Lazy dominance—you on top, but he’s still in control. His hands gripping your hips, guiding your movements, holding you still when he decides you’re going too fast. He makes you work for it, but he never really lets you have the power.

Doggy. The way you arch for him, the way he can feel every little tremor of pleasure—it’s intoxicating.

Face-to-face, slow, deep strokes with you beneath him—your legs wrapped around his waist, keeping him close. He loves seeing every reaction.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

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

Duh. It’s Blaise. Blaise would absolutely make jokes mid-moment, If there’s an awkward noise, a creaky bed, or anything, he’s not above making a joke about it. He’s the type to tease you just enough to make you laugh.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

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

Always groomed. Trimmed, but not completely bare—just enough to show he takes care of himself. He’s meticulous with his appearance, and that includes this.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

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

Surprisingly intense. Deep, slow kisses that leave you breathless, his voice a hushed rasp against your ear.

“You’re so amazing,”

he murmurs, thumb stroking over your jaw, over your lips, like he can’t get enough of the sight of you.

He’d also have moments of breaking into a soft chuckle, brushing your hair back, or just saying

“You know you’re my favorite person, right?”

before kissing you again.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Rarely does it. Blaise prefers the real thing. If he’s craving release, he’d much rather have you than his own hand. That being said, if he has to? He’s thinking about you—every time.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Eye contact. He wants you looking at him, wants to see every flicker of pleasure, every bit of desperation in your gaze. If you try to close your eyes, he’s tilting your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Don’t look away from me.”

Sensory deprivation. The idea of blindfolding you, of taking away your ability to see what he’s about to do—it thrills him. He loves the anticipation, the way every touch is amplified when you don’t know what’s coming next.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Somewhere with a mirror. He wants you to watch.

Anywhere forbidden. The risk of getting caught? Makes it better.

His room, his space—where he can take his time, where he can have you exactly how he wants.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

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

Eye contact. The way you look at him like he’s the only thing in the world.

You being sassy. If you’ve got an attitude. Yeah, that’s getting handled immediately.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

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

Bodily fuids kinks are a hard no. Anything beyond the obvious? Not happening. 

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

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

Both. He enjoys giving just as much as receiving.

Giving: When he’s between your thighs? That’s where he shines. Precise, devastating, relentless—he works you slow, deliberate strokes of his tongue, one hand holds your thigh wide the other have one or two fingers curled up to hit your G spot. He takes his time, savoring your taste.

"You taste so perfect. I can’t get enough of you." // "I love the way you’re clenching around my fingers." // "That feels good, huh, pretty girl"

Receiving: He doesn’t force, doesn’t demand—but his fingers thread through your hair, guiding, not pushing, watching with darkened eyes as you take him in.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, voice thick with approval. “Just like that.”

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

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

He enjoys switching it up—sometimes slow and deep, every thrust meant to make you feel every inch. He wants to watch the way pleasure spreads across your face, hear every sound that escapes your lips. Other times just fun and spontaneous.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

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

Only if the moment calls for it. He’s not the type to rush just for the sake of it—Blaise wants to enjoy you. But if the tension is thick, if the desire is overwhelming, he’ll have you up against the nearest surface, fingers gripping your hips as he muffles your moans with his mouth. 

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

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

Calculated. Blaise isn’t reckless—he won’t get caught, but he wants you to feel like you might. He thrives on the thrill, on the way your breath hitches when he pushes the boundaries. A hand slipping beneath the table, a whispered threat against your ear, the promise of what he’ll do if you make a sound.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

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

He’s a quidditch player. He can go for a few rounds. 

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

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

He owns a few. Restraints? Absolutely. A silk blindfold, a silk cuffs for your wrists, a vibrator. He loves pleasuring you.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Not that much, only when he’s in the mood, otherwise he’ll give you what you both want and need.Not that much, only when he’s in the mood, otherwise he’ll give you what you both want and need.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧��ஓ┈

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

He’s not loud, but he makes sure you hear him—the way his breath shudders against your skin, the way his voice drops to a raspy whisper when he’s losing himself in you. Deep groans, low murmurs, the occasional sharp inhale when you do something that catches him off guard.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

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

In my head he would randomly putting on music and doing a dumb little dance to make you laugh before he switches back into sexy mode.

Long-Distance toy Control. He’d get it purely for the entertainment—the way your thighs clench together when he turns it on in the middle of a conversation, the barely-restrained shiver when he increases the setting. He’d watch, expression unreadable, completely unfazed while you struggle to keep your composure. And if you shoot him a pleading look? His only response is a slow smirk and a flick of his finger on his remote.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

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

Length: 8 inches—long, and dangerous in the best way. You feel it before you realize how deep he’s gone. Girth: Not overwhelmingly thick, but enough to stretch you just right. It’s the way he moves that gets you—slow, deliberate, making you feel every inch. Curve: Upward tilt, perfectly designed to hit exactly where he wants. And trust him—he knows how to use it.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

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

Very high, but controlled. Blaise doesn’t need to be desperateVery high, but controlled. Blaise doesn’t need to be desperate

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Never before you. He stays awake, watching as your breathing evens out, his fingers drawing slow patterns over your skin. He makes sure you’re comfortable, makes sure you’re settled, before letting himself drift. 

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

PLEASE DO NOT COPY / TRANSLATE OR REPOST AS YOUR OWN!

©Voidofsunlight