#i learned it tonight and am delighted

[a-method-in-it]

Listen. If we're all going to live in unprecedented historical political times for the next however long, I do insist that at some point it is because, like, actual groundbreaking progress is happening and not because of stuff that has Yakety Sax playing in the background

[ferritins]

PUTTIN’ ON THE RITZ | B. WAYNE

SUMMARY: You’re Bruce Wayne’s long suffering personal assistant. On a time crunch, you (re)teach him how to apply cologne.

NOTES: belligerent tension, Bruce is characterised more on the socialite side than Batman, though Batman is alluded to. Suggestive ending.

For all the years that you’ve been his PA, you’ve never quite understood the borderline hysteria surrounding Bruce Wayne.

The perils of having a pretty face and old money, you suppose; sex appeal sells, and the prestige of an established name and old money that lend him an air of modern-day Gilded Age aristocrat surely can’t hurt.

Not that it's of particular interest or importance to you; you're a member of the hoi polloi through and through.

The closest to celebrity you've ever come is being mistaken as Bruce’s latest paramour in some of your more extravagant efforts trying to prevent his sartorial and interpersonal disasters before they happen.

Speaking of which; as he goes to apply his cologne, you drop the lint roller you're passing over his broad shoulders and the elegant lines of his Kiton suit and grab his wrist before he can douse himself in the strong scent, aghast.

“You’re not putting cologne on like that, surely?”

Bruce quirks a dark eyebrow. "Unless you're expecting me to break the bottle over my head, sweetheart, there's not really another way to apply cologne."

“I am choosing to ignore that nickname, because unlike you, I am a consummate professional.” You inform Bruce, tone somewhere between haughty and resigned. “I know you know how to wear cologne. Mr. Pennyworth is the gentleman’s gentleman, there’s no way he didn’t teach you.”

“Oh, Alfred gets Mr. Pennyworth, but I get Bruce?”

“Mr. Pennyworth doesn’t tear loaned formal wear, disappear at inoppurtune moments, or make a tit of himself at networking events.” You huff. “You, however…”

Bruce chuckles, all baritenor delight at your insouciance towards him.

You roll your eyes.

Spray some on your wrists and dab them together, then come here and loosen your tie."

“Not that I'm not flattered, but I really don’t think we've got the time." He teases, daubing the cologne on his wrists, long fingers of his unoccupied hand working the Windsor knot of his tie loose.

Immune to his affected charm through long exposure, you sigh.

“Keep it in your trousers, Bruce. Tonight, you're learning how to wear cologne properly, again. Do you mind if I unbutton your collar?"

Bruce hums a permissive note, gaze hawkish as you step into his personal space.

“Right. So, as you already know, you want to put cologne at the pulse points on either side of your neck; your body heat will help the alcohol carrier agent evaporate faster. If you're using a lighter fragrance or a perfume oil, you'd put it behind your ears." You explain.

As you speak, you pluck the bottle of fragrance from his grasp with your unoccupied hand, and spritz his neck with it, swapping hands to hold his collar away and do the same the other side of his neck.

Finally, you spray the base of his neck; the mist of cologne gathers into a single small droplet that traces down into the hollow of his suprasternal notch.

“(All done.” You announce, stepping back.

Bruce buttons up his collar, works the silk of his tie back into a Windsor knot with infuriating ease.

“I still think it would have been less fuss to just spray it on over the fabric.”

“Lazy. Just be thankful you don't have to do your ankles." You say as you turn to put the bottle back on the dark oak of his dresser.

Heinously late, cognition kicks in, and the realisation of what you’ve just said strikes you like a thunderbolt. You close your eyes briefly, hoping against hope that Bruce’s more airheaded tendencies have kicked in, and the context has flown over his head.

When you finally steel yourself enough to turn back to face him, you find that the universe has not been so merciful; Bruce is staring at you, a wicked glee in his expression.

"Anyway! That’s specifically to perfume." You obfuscate. "The car is probably out front by now; if you're done, let's head out."

“No, no; you’re going to explain that delightful little tidbit before we go anywhere.”

Heat floods your face.

“You clearly know exactly what I meant. Let it go, it was a faux pas.”

Bruce says your name in a low rumble.

You parrot his name back at him in a faintly beseeching tone, begging him not to choose this moment to be a petty tyrant.

Bruce’s response is to raise an expectant eyebrow.

The standoff lasts as long as it takes you to check your watch, your resolve fracturing at the first hint of threat to your meticulously crafted schedule.

“Fine!” You snap, stepping close and dropping your voice to a murmur, to minimise the odds of anyone overhearing the frankly mortifying disclosure.

“You spray perfume on your ankles so that when you've got them over your partner's shoulders, they'll associate the perfume with you."

A faint flush floods the high planes of Bruce’s cheekbones, even as his smile turns gloating and distinctly carnivorous.

C Caught up in your own humiliation, you push past him, out of the dressing room, and quite miss the way his eyes trail down your legs to where the jut of your ankle bone is emphasised by your heels, and the considering smirk that his mouth pulls into as he follows you.

[cressidagrey]

Looked to the Sky - Chapter 2

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was, however, Azriel‘s mate with her own mysterious, untrained powers.

Also known as: Azriel tries to court his mate the human way.

Warnings: 

THIS IS THE LIGHTNING IN A BOTTLE SEQUEL! SO READ THAT FIRST IF YOU WANNA READ THIS ONE OTHERWISE THIS MAKES NO SENSE!

Elain Bashing, low Self-Esteem, Cassian is kinda an idiot, mention of murder, mention of stabbing and without @k-godling this would have never happened.

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

“It’s open!” Eira called out as she heard the knock, her eyes flicking towards the door.

The shadows had just finished playing with her hair, their efforts resulting in an intricately braided updo that she had absolutely no idea how to replicate properly. She wondered who exactly had let the shadows play hairstylist for long enough that they had learned how to pin her hair in increasingly complicated updos, whenever she let them. 

For some reason, Eira had the feeling that it amused them for some unknown reason. And they liked doing it. At night, when she couldn’t sleep, they kept playing with her hair, lulling her to sleep…when she was awake, they braided and rebraided it as often as they possibly could get away with it. And tonight, they had tried two different hairstyles, before finally deciding that this one was the one. Now, they were just finished scattering some blooming Asters through her hair, the purple-blue colour matching a dress that had suddenly been in her closet. 

It was all…very much like a fairytale. 

“Hey,” Feyre said as she entered her room. “Are you ready for dinner?” 

"I am pretty sure the shadows keep stealing your dresses for me," Eira said drily, as she nodded. Feyre blinked twice, taking in the dress that the shadows had trussed Eira into. It was beautiful. A dark bluish purple, with spiderweb-thin lace that covered her arms and heavy silk that fell to the floor.

"That's not mine," Feyre answered with a laugh. "It's gorgeous, but definitely not mine.”

Eira stared at the dress, then to the shadows that quickly flitted through the open door away from her. She just sighed, while Feyre giggled.  "They do seem to be surprisingly delighted at treating you as their lifesize doll," her sister quipped. 

Eira just shrugged. "Well, at least they have good taste," she said with a grin making Feyre laugh aloud.

"Maybe they are just happy that they finally get somebody to dress up. Azriel wears his leathers nearly exclusively after all,” Feyre quipped. 

Eira chuckled at Feyre’s words, thinking of Azriel’s usual attire. It was true, the shadowsinger rarely bothered with anything more formal than his leathers. She turned her attention back to the dress, running her fingers over the lacework of the sleeves. "It’s beautiful," she said quietly, admiring the fabric. "But it’s a bit much, isn't it?"

Feyre rolled her eyes at her words. "It’s not, Eira," she said, her tone slightly exasperated. "Besides, I think a certain shadowsinger may appreciate the effort," she added with a wink.

Eira's cheeks flamed. Maybe...maybe that was the reason why she hadn't protested the shadows and their insistence on dressing her up. Maybe that was why she hadn't protested that dress or the updo...or even the lipstick they had very carefully applied.

Eira had initially assumed that the shadows just enjoyed playing dress up, that they derived some sort of twisted amusement from seeing her in fancy dresses and elaborate hairstyles. But, now that Feyre had brought up a certain Shadowsinger... Perhaps the shadows had a more specific reason for their interest in dolling her up...

"Come on, I want to see if you manage to make Azriel's jaw hit the floor," Feyre quipped.

Eira’s heart skipped a beat at Feyre's words, heat rising to her cheeks. She knew it was silly, knew that she shouldn’t get her hopes up. But the thought of seeing Azriel’s reaction to her wearing that beautiful dress...it made her stomach flutter with something. 

They had agreed to a courtship but she...she knew that for him the mating bond trumped anything. 

That's why he even considered it in the first place, why he was willing to go along with it.

It was...It was something she liked to push out of her mind in a way because she would rather just...enjoy the possibility of having him. Something that she hadn't thought she ever would have. She never thought that she would have a chance.

For just a moment her mind replayed Elain’s vision…They had looked so happy in that vision…had looked so…in love. 

So did it really matter why he wanted to court her? If they could build that? The image that had plagued her since the day of the vision flitted through her mind, the image of a daughter that they could perhaps someday have together.

And yet, something twisted in her gut, a pang of doubt creeping into her heart.

Wasn’t she only asking for heartache? Shouldn’t she not get her hopes up too high, shouldn’t she stop herself from building up too many fantasies in her head?

But she had never been good at telling her heart no. It had always been too hopeful...a bit foolish.

And the thought of Azriel seeing her...of seeing his reaction to her in this gorgeous dress, with her hair pinned up...it sent a thrill of excitement through her veins. 

So she followed along with Feyre towards the dining room, her heart beating fast in her chest. Just a family dinner...just like they had had so many. Granted most of the time she had sat at the edges and had then rambled to Azriel about everything and nothing but...

This dinner would be the same as all the others, she told herself, just like every other one they had shared in the past...the only difference was that this time, she was dolled up in a fancy dress and an elaborate hairdo courtesy of the shadows.

And the fact that she had agreed to let him court her. The human way.

Well, in the way Azriel probably thought was human. She highly doubted that it would pass as courting for any gentleman, but she didn't care about that. She really didn’t care. She would sit through whatever he wanted if he had the chance of…the chance of having him. 

It was so sweet that he was even willing to entertain her like that. He could have just as easily never even thought about it...could have just as easily refused to do anything human because he wasn't human. He was Illyrian...even when she sometimes wondered what Azriel would call himself if she asked. He seemed to have no love for Illyrian customs, much differently than either Rhys or Cassian.

Eira pondered that as they walked. She knew how much Azriel disliked the Illyrian culture, how much disdain he had for some of their archaic traditions, their backward ideologies. 

And yet, he indulged her, willing to do it the human way even though he wasn’t human. It filled her heart with a strange sensation, a kind of warm affection.

It was...endearing, in a way. Sweet, in fact. That he would take the time and effort, simply to let her have a taste of that kind of romance. 

But all of that was nothing against the way her stomach fluttered as she spied him in the dining room, deep in conversation with Cassian and Rhys...Wings carefully tucked behind his shoulders so that she couldn't see the full, massive span of them...couldn't see their majestic beauty. 

And then his hazel eyes looked up and for just a moment it felt like it was just the two of them, everybody else forgotten.

Eira's breath caught in her throat when Azriel looked up and their eyes met.

For a brief moment, everything else around them disappeared, the world slipping away in a rush of colour and sound. It was like the world faded away, leaving just the two of them staring at each other.

She saw the surprise in his eyes, the flicker of shock before his gaze flicked over her figure, taking in her dress, and her hair.

Something flickered in his gaze, something she couldn’t quite place. His stare was intense, and heat rose in her cheeks as his eyes traced over the lace of her sleeves, the shape of her waist, the way the silk hugged her skin. It was...overwhelming, almost, having his attention so completely on her. 

Overwhelming and addictive. 

Eira's heart leapt in her chest, her cheeks flushing under his gaze. She was suddenly very aware of the way the fabric of her dress glided against her skin, how it clung to her figure.

"Damn," Cassian drawled. Cassian's voice jarred Eira out of the moment, breaking the strange spell that had seemed to fall over her and Azriel.

She jerked her head in Cassian's direction, finding him staring at her with an appreciative grin. "Someone's looking very nice tonight," Cassian drawled, his gaze roaming over her dressed figure.

Eira could feel her cheeks flushing even more under his gaze, the heat of them spreading across her chest and neck, embarrassment settling. She knew that dress had been too much, she shouldn’t have…

And then she heard that growl. Eira's eyes widened at the sound of Azriel's growl, the feral sound making her shiver. She watched, slightly stunned, as he shot Cassian a glare that should have set the other male on fire on the spot.

Cassian just smirked at his brother's reaction, his grin widening with smug satisfaction.

"What's wrong, Az," he drawled a hint of amusement in his voice. "Didn't like me looking at your lady?"

Azriel's eyes narrowed further, the muscles in his jaw tensing. He took a step forward, his wings flaring, as if to shield Eira from Cassian's gaze.

"Enough, you two," Rhys said with a sigh. "Cassian, if he kills you, that's on you. You know exactly how that mating bond feels to him right now."

Cassian just chuckled at Rhys' words, his eyes still sparkling with mirth. "Oh, I know," he drawled. Rhys just rolled his eyes at that, his expression exasperated.

Azriel's wings flared a little further, the movement enough to distract Eira's attention back to him. His eyes were still fixed on Cassian, a silent warning in his gaze.

Eira's heart skipped a beat as she took in the expression on his face, the protectiveness that had taken over his features. But she could also see the other, lurking underneath that protective surface. There was a hint of possessiveness, a hint of something much more primal and instinctual. The sight was enough to send another shiver down her spine.

"You do look very pretty, Eira," Cassian said, his voice growing serious and she couldn't help but stare at him. What? She hadn't expected the compliment, especially not after the way he had been riling Azriel only a moment before.

"Thanks," she responded after a moment, her voice quiet.

Nesta just snorted. "Wrong sister," she told her mate drily. "You are supposed to tell me how pretty I am," she pointed out, making Eira laugh.

"You are gorgeous," Eira told her oldest sister, making Nesta snort, her grey eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Did you make the dress?" Nesta asked as they found their seats, Azriel pulling out the chair for her without a word,

Eira smiled as she took her seat, Azriel's hand on the small of her back sending a strange sensation through her body. She watched as he sat down to her right, his wing slightly flared to block Cassian from her line of sight.

She looked back to Nesta, her cheeks still flushed from Azriel's touch.

"No," she answered, a smile on her lips. "The shadows…the shadows picked it out for me."

Nesta raised an eyebrow at her words, her gaze flickering from the dress to Azriel, who was still shooting warning glances in Cassian's direction.

Rhys and Feyre were also exchanging knowing looks, clearly amused by the shadow's involvement.

"They have good taste," Feyre quipped, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

Azriel's wing twitched, his glare deepening. "Don’t give them ideas," he said gruffly.

Feyre just laughed at that, her eyes dancing with amusement.

"Oh, I think they already have plenty of ideas, Az," she said with a smile. Azriel just grumbled under his breath, his eyes flickering to Eira for a moment before looking back to Feyre.

Eira couldn't help the flush that spread over her cheeks as Azriel's gaze flicked over her again. She could feel the heat of it like a brand, making her skin tingle and her heart flutter.

The shadows that had gotten her ready for the night whispered in her ear, their voices too soft for the others to hear. 

He likes it.

Eira barely resisted the urge to shiver at the whisper, Azriel's gaze still on her, his eyes locked on her face. She could see the possessiveness in his gaze, the way he was looking at her as if she were something he wanted to keep all for himself. The shadows' voices purred again.

He thinks you're beautiful.

Eira's heart fluttered at the words, her stomach twisting with a strange sense of...giddiness. She knew it was silly, foolish even, but that possessive gleam in his eyes made her feel...wanted, desired. She couldn't help but smile as the shadows continued to whisper in her ear, their voices soft and sly.

He can't take his eyes off you.

"Would you stop it?" Azriel growled at that moment and she looked up to find the shadows having wrapped themselves around their master, the tendrils of darkness twining around his arms and shoulders.

The sight was both eerie and beautiful, the shadows moving like dark, writhing serpents over his skin. Azriel's eyes flared with irritation as he tried to bat the shadows away, but they seemed to only cling tighter, almost as if they were taunting him.

Rhys and Feyre were watching the scene with amused expressions, clearly enjoying Azriel’s frustration. They really did like to rile him up, it seemed.

Cassian, on the other hand, was grinning like a fool, clearly enjoying the display.

"You just can't keep the shadows in check, can you, shadowsinger?" Cassian drawled, a smirk on his lips. Azriel just growled in response, his eyes narrowing as he shot a glare at the other male across the table. Rhys chuckled at the scene, clearly finding the whole thing amusing.

"It seems like they have a mind of their own," he mused, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

Feyre just snorted, her lips curving into a smirk as she watched the shadows continue their dance around Azriel. Eira couldn't help but laugh as well, the sight of the shadows wrapping around Azriel's form while he sat there looking annoyed was truly hilarious.

The shadows were clearly enjoying themselves, their tendrils moving almost playfully over his broad shoulders and strong arms. Eira watched as Azriel seemed to give in to the shadows' antics, his shoulders relaxing and his expression softening. The shadows still coiled around his arms like snakes, the tendrils of darkness wrapping around his wrists and up his forearms.

He seemed resigned now, his eyes flickering to her for a moment before looking back to the shadows.

"You look beautiful, Eira. The colour suits you," he said quietly, his cheeks reddening.

She could have sworn her heart skipped a beat at his words, a rush of warmth spreading through her chest at Azriel's words. She could feel her cheeks flushing even more as he complimented her, her heart fluttering against her ribs.

He liked it? 

Azriel let out a huff of irritation as one of the shadows extended a tendril to poke his cheek, his lips pressing into a frown.

He reached up a hand to brush the shadow away, but it just twined around his fingers instead.

The shadow seemed almost...playful, the way it wove between his fingers, the touch surprisingly gentle. "Stop it," Azriel murmured under his breath, his eyes narrowing at the shadow.

But the shadow just continued to wind itself around his fingers, almost like a cat begging for attention. Eira couldn't help but grin at the sight, the shadow's antics adorable, even if they were clearly bothering Azriel.

"I don't think they are going to stop until I give in," Azriel finally said with a sigh. Eira chuckled as Azriel finally spoke up, the shadows clearly intent on getting his attention. "I was going to wait until after dessert," Azriel said quietly, "But they seem to have a mind on their own...so…” he hesitated for a moment. “I apologise. I learned that I did it wrong."

She stared at him, her heart plummeting. 

That he did what wrong? Why was he apologising to her? What was… "What did you do wrong?" Eira asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Azriel's cheeks flushed again as he looked at her, the shadows still clinging to his fingers. He took a deep breath before speaking, his eyes never leaving hers. He took a deep breath before speaking, his eyes never leaving hers. "I...I should have given you a gift when I made my first courting overture," he said quietly, his voice gruff with embarrassment. “I am sorry. While I did not know, that is not an excuse for my behaviour.” 

Eira's heart skipped a beat at his words, her eyes widening. She hadn’t expected him to give her a gift, let alone bring it up now.

"You don't need to give me a gift," she protested immediately.

Yes, it was true that...that should have been something that happened. But then, if she was still the daughter of a wealthy merchant, she probably would have met her future husband at a ball and there would have been weeks of flowers and pralines before he asked her to court...and a courtship already was fully expected as a prelude to a formal engagement. By the time a man would have asked her to court, he should have already made his mind up if she was the woman he intended to marry.

Eira's mind flickered to the memory of Elain's courtship with Grayson, the wealthy heir sending her gifts for weeks before officially courting her. And the number of gifts and the extravagance increased tenfold when he requested her hand.

She had never expected Azriel to do anything of that sort.

But the fact that Azriel seemed ashamed... that the shadows were so insistent that he followed the proper courting practices...it made something in her chest warm, the feeling almost like a fuzzy, pleasant burn.

She looked up at him, a small smile on her lips. "You didn’t have to get me a gift," she repeated, her voice soft.

Azriel just shook his head, a stubborn frown on his face. “I did,” he said firmly, his eyes locked on hers. “It's part of the tradition, part of your culture.”

Eira felt her heart skip a beat at Azriel's words, his firm tone making something flutter in her stomach. He was taking this seriously, that much was clear. She could see the determination in his eyes, the shadows still coiled around his fingers as if to remind him of his task.

"Alright," she said softly, her gaze locked with his. "You...you really want to follow proper courtship etiquette?" She asked, her voice almost tentative.

"He got like 10 books on it," Cassian said with a snort.

Eira's eyes widened as she heard Cassian's comment, her gaze shifting to him for a moment before returning to Azriel.

"You...you researched this?" She asked, her voice tinged with surprise.

Azriel just grumbled under his breath, his cheeks reddening even more. "The shadows found me books in the Human Lands.," he muttered, his eyes flickering to the tendrils of darkness still wrapped around his fingers.

But it was Nesta's laugh, a high tinkling sound, her older sister winking at her. "Bring out the goods, Az. I want to know what you ended up choosing."

Eira's heart fluttered in her chest as Nesta spoke, her words sending a strange mixture of anticipation and...giddiness through her.

Eira looked to Azriel, whose cheeks continued to redden under the attention, his wings shifting behind him. The shadows around his fingers seemed almost...encouraging, the tendrils coiling and uncoiling like they were urging him to hurry.

“Let me get it.” Eira's heart seemed to skip a beat as Azriel finally spoke, his voice deep and gruff. He extricated his fingers from the shadow's grasp, the tendrils retracting like they had only been waiting for that particular permission.

Azriel stood from the table, pushing his chair back, and Eira found herself holding her breath.

Azriel crossed the dining room in a few quick strides, his wings flared out behind him as if in excitement. Eira's eyes followed him, her heart still fluttering in her chest.

The other occupants of the room remained silent, their eyes following the shadowsinger as he made his way into the next room.

A moment later, he reappeared, carrying...something.

A harp.

Eira's eyes widened as she saw the harp in Azriel's hands, her heart skipping another beat in her chest.

It was...beautiful, the strings gleaming in the light from the candelabras. The wood was polished to a fine shine, each curve and line of detail flawless.

She could just stare at it.

The sight of it brought back memories from her childhood when she had started learning the harp. When she had dreamed of playing for a court, of  learning every single song there was...when she had...She had one then...a gift from her father...a beautiful gilded one, made out of light wood. It had been smaller than that one, with fewer strings than the 47 she expected this one to possess. This was the kind of harp professional used in an orchestra setting...the kind of harp she had always dreamed of.

Her harp had been sold off along the rest of their possession to keep their money troubles at bay back in the day...and somehow it had been...it had been the worst loss. Somehow the house and her clothing and any jewellery...that hadn't mattered to her as much as the harp.

"Nesta said you used to play," Azriel said quietly, his voice unsure, as he placed it in front other, carefully. Eira's eyes snapped up to meet Azriel's, her heart still fluttering in her chest.

She took in the expression on his face, the uncertainty and the shyness that had replaced his usual confidence. She could see the...the hope in his eyes, mixed with a hint of anxiety as he waited for her response. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she looked at him.

"I...I used to," she finally replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her fingers itched to reach out and take the harp from him, to touch the strings. To hold that instrument in her hands and...to run her fingers over the smooth wood, to feel the coolness of the strings as she plucked them.

The memory of how they felt under her touch, the sound they made when she had been younger and could still play...the memories that rushed through her mind made her heart beat faster in her chest.

"I stopped after...after our father lost our wealth," she continued, her voice softer now. "We had to sell most of our possessions, and...well, harps aren't exactly the most practical thing to keep in your house when you're struggling to buy food."

But now...now Azriel was holding this harp out to her. Holding this most wonderful, most beautiful thing...this thing she had lost, this thing she never thought she would hold again.

Tears welled in her eyes as she looked at the harp, her mouth going dry. "You-" Eira's words caught in her throat as she met Azriel's gaze again, the tears in her eyes making his face blurry. "You...you got this for me?" She managed to whisper out.

"It's not a human one," he warned her quietly. "You would probably break it without meaning to...it wouldn't withstand your strength. This ones is fae-made. Made out of Ebony. Your magic will interact with the instrument and...the sound should be even more beautiful."

"It's beautiful," she repeated, her voice soft with emotion.

She reached out an unsteady hand to brush the harp, her fingers tracing over the smooth ebony wood. She could feel the hum of magic under her fingertips, the power contained in the instrument, the magic that was just waiting to be released.

She looked up at Azriel, tears still shimmering in her eyes. "You-" her voice broke for a second before she tried again. "You did all this...this is your courting gift?"

Azriel's cheeks reddened even more at her question, the tips of his ears turning pink. He nodded once, his eyes fixed on her face, his expression almost hopeful. "Yes," he said quietly. "It is."

Eira's heart skipped another beat, the tears pooling in her eyes finally spilling over.

She looked back down at the harp, her fingers still tracing over the smooth wood, her lips trembling. This was...this was the most beautiful gift she had ever received, it was...it was more than she had ever expected, more than she had ever hoped for.

And Azriel had gone through all that trouble, researched her culture and the proper courtship rituals, had found this harp...for her.

She took a trembling breath, desperately trying to contain the swell of emotions in her chest, the tears now falling down her cheeks.

She looked back up at Azriel, meeting his gaze once again, her heart thudding loudly in her chest.

She opened her mouth to speak, to try and say something, a thank you, a...a declaration, anything. But the words stuck in her throat.

Azriel just stood there, watching as she tried to speak, the expression on his face unreadable. The worry in his eyes was unmistakable, as if he wasn't sure how she would react.

The room was quiet, the other occupants of the room watching the scene with rapt attention. Even the shadows seemed unusually still, their usual playfulness and mischief replaced by a strange kind of tension.

Eira took another shuddering breath, trying to collect herself. She wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand, her heart still hammering in her chest.

She looked at the harp again, taking in every detail of the instrument. The smooth wood, the perfectly tuned strings, the magic contained within. The sheer...beauty of it, the thoughtfulness and care that had gone into choosing it.

It was a beautiful harp. A truly perfect gift.

"It's...it's perfect," she finally managed to whisper, her voice raw with emotion.

Azriel's shoulders relaxed slightly, the worry in his eyes diminishing a little. "You...you like it, then?" He asked quietly, his voice tense with anxiety.

"Like it?" Eira repeated, her voice almost indignant. "Like it? I...Azriel, it's the most beautiful, most perfect gift I've ever received."

She rose, her knees shaky, taking a step forward, the tears still trickling down her cheeks.

"It...it's perfect," she repeated, her voice cracking once again. "And you...you learned about the proper courtship rituals, you...you researched my culture," she continued, her voice soft and shaky. "You did all this...for me."

Eira took another step forward. She took another shuddering breath, her heart beating harder and hard in her chest.

"No one...no one has ever done that before," she whispered, her voice breaking again. "No one has ever put so much thought, so much effort into a gift for me."

Azriel shifted awkwardly, looking as if he were torn between wanting to reach out to her and not knowing if it was the right thing to do.

"You...you're worth it," he finally said, his voice quiet and gruff. "You're...you're worth all the research, the effort...the trouble. You're worth it, Eira."

Eira's heart clenched in her chest at his words, her breath catching in her throat.

No one had ever spoken to her like that, ever made her feel as if they were so certain of her worth. 

She shouldn't be doing this. It wasn't her place to be this forward, wasn't...but still she stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss against his cheek, breathing in cedars and mist and Azriel and then pulled back. "Thank you," she whispered."

Azriel's eyes widened in surprise, his cheeks reddening furiously as she kissed his cheek.

He seemed completely taken aback, his wings fluttering slightly in shock. His entire body tensed, as if he suddenly didn't know what to do with himself.

And then, as a moment later, a small, shy smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "You're welcome," he replied, his voice gravelly and rough.

"So are you gonna play something?" Cassian asked, breaking the silence.

Eira's cheeks flamed bright red as she remembered they weren't alone. She had...she had forgotten the others were there, had allowed herself to get lost in the moment, in the emotions and the...the sheer perfection of Azriel's gift.

She pulled back slightly and looked at Cassian's cheeky smile as he teased.

"Not unless you want to go deaf by my out of practice screeching," she said drily. "I'll need to practice before my playing is anywhere near fit for public consumption."

"Oh, come on," Cassian said with a pout. "It can't possibly be that bad. Let us have a taste of the music you're capable of making."

Nesta smacked his arm with a disapproving glare, but the slight upward curl of her lips made him just grin wider.

"I promise you, it really is that bad," Eira replied, her heart still hammering in her chest. "Trust me, you'll be much happier not having to listen to how horribly rusted my playing has become."

Cassian opened his mouth to response but Nesta's elbow ended in his ribs. "Whenever you are ready," her older sister told her gently.

*****

"You're distracted," Rhys's voice cut through his thoughts, making him snap back to the present. He looked up to see his brother watching him with a smirk and an arched eyebrow.

Azriel huffed a sigh, leaning back in his chair and rubbing a hand over his face.

Of course Rhys would immediately notice. The High Lord had always had an annoyingly sharp eye for his inner circle.

He couldn't help himself though as he stared out of the window. Feyre and Nyx were down in the garden...and he had watched how Eira had joined them a few minutes ago, settling herself comfortably under one of the trees, watching her sister and nephew play.

"I'm not distracted, I'm..." he started to protest, but he knew it was useless. He was distracted, his thoughts had been all over the place the past day, revolving almost entirely around a certain Archeron Sister.

Azriel's mind was still filled with images of the previous night, of the memory of Eira's reaction to the gift he had given.

She had been...he had never seen her so emotional before, so overwhelmed, and...he had caused it. He had made her feel that way.

His mind replayed the memories over and over again, the way she had looked at him, with such wonder and gratitude, how she had...how she had kissed his cheek.

Especially after she had...pressed a kiss to his cheek.

After she had seemed so pleased by his courting gift.

A small, satisfied smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he thought back to that moment, the way she had looked holding the harp, the expression on her face when she had realised what he had done.

His heart fluttered in his chest as he remembered how she had looked at him, how she had seemed to forget they weren't alone for a moment, had pressed her lips against his cheek, so soft, so warm, and had whispered her thanks against his skin.

"You're staring."

Rhys' voice broke through his thoughts, yanking him back to reality and away from the memory of her lips on his cheek, her warmth, her scent.

Azriel realised his gaze was fixed on the window, on Eira outside with Feyre and Nyx.

"I also always have this dreamy expression on my face when I think about Eris Vanserra and the Autumn Court," Cassian said sarcastically.

"Shut up," Azriel said irritably, though with no small amount of truth in his words.

He knew he probably had that 'dreamy' look right now. That hopelessly in love, pining look that Cassian teased him about.

"You are as subtle as a bat," Rhys teased, a smile on his face. "We can all tell she's got you wrapped around her little finger."

Another irritated huff left Azriel, but he didn’t deny it. He was wrapped around her little finger. There was no denying that.

"Though your shadows are worse," Cassian quipped. 

"My shadows are not worse," he protested, but his shadows curled and coiled around his fingers, as if in silent agreement with Cassian.

"They’ve been pining for her too," Rhys chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "Have you noticed how often they’re clinging to her?"

"Or how they pick out dresses for her...and braid her hair?" Cassian said with some amusement. “I didn’t even know they could do that!”

"And how they preen whenever she touches them," Rhys added, his voice still full of laughter. "They’re as whipped as you are, brother. If not more."

Azriel huffed another irritated sigh, but he didn’t protest. It was true. His shadows practically worshipped the ground Eira walked on. They clung to her every chance they got, they preened whenever she so much as looked at them. He had absolutely no control over them when they were around her.

"Were where Amren and Mor yesterday?" he asked suddenly instead, trying to change the topic. 

"Well, Amren still thinks she has done nothing wrong," Rhys finally said with a sigh. "And Mor...that's...another thing entirely."

Azriel groaned.

He could imagine what was going on. Amren was stubbornly refusing to apologise for acting the way she had towards Eira, and Mor...he didn't even want to think about it.

"Amren will come around," Rhys assured him. "It will just take some time, some convincing. She's the most stubborn person I know. And Mor..." his expression darkened. "Mor is being difficult."

Azriel huffed another sigh, running a hand over his face.

Of course Mor was being difficult. When was she ever not difficult? He could guess how the conversation had gone between Rhys and her. She probably saw nothing wrong with how she had acted towards Eira either.

"She's jealous," Rhys said with a sigh. Azriel could just stare at him gobsmacked. Rhys shrugged. "She is jealous, Azriel. She's jealous you've found someone, that you're going to court someone else. And she's decided to take it out on Eira."

"That's a damn shitty reason to be this resentful towards someone," Cassian chimed in, leaning back in his chair with a huff. "Especially when we all know that she was never interested in Azriel in the first place."

"Yeah, well, you aren't available to her anymore either," Rhys said drily. "Mor will need some time to...wrap her head around it."

Cassian just grunted, his expression darkening for a moment. It was true. He no longer was available, no longer an option for her. Not that he had ever truly been an option. It had never been anything more than...passing flings.

"Either way, she'll need to stop behaving like this towards Eira," Azriel growled, the thought making his blood boil. "Just because she is upset with me, doesn't mean she gets to take it out on someone innocent."

"That one," Rhys said, raising an eyebrow and pointing towards Eira through the window. She was still outside, now sitting against a tree. Nyx was curled up against her, asleep. Feyre was sitting next to her, drawing something, a lazy, happy smile on her face. Azriel's chest tightened at the sight. “She is more resilient than you think.”

Azriel swallowed past the lump in his throat as he stared at her through the window.

Rhys was right. She was strong. She was so strong. Stronger than she gave herself credit for, even. And her resilience was something he had…always been in awe off. How whatever happened, Eira just seemed to take it in stride, adjusting. 

"I know she is," he said, his voice thick with emotion."But she shouldn’t need to be. I just..." he continued, his gaze still fixed on her through the window. She was laughing about something Feyre had said, her head thrown back, her face lit up with happiness. “I just want to protect her. I want to wrap her up and shield her from everything bad in this world and just…keep her safe.”

"You know you can't do that, right?" Cassian’s voice was quiet, sincere.

Azriel knew he was right. He knew that. He knew he couldn’t protect her from the world, from everything bad in it. That she wouldn’t even want him protecting her all the time.

He knew all that, but still...still the thought of something bad happening to her, still the idea of being unable to protect her…it made his heart ache.

"Welcome to the mating bond," Rhys quipped weakly.

Azriel huffed another irritated sigh.

He knew exactly what he was dealing with. He knew that this...that feeling the need to protect her, to keep her safe at all costs, to wrap her up and shield her from the world...it all came down to the bond, to the instinct.

But that didn’t mean he had to like it. That didn’t mean he had to be content with his hands being tied, with not being able to have control.

It was driving him nuts.

"It gets easier," Cassian promised him. "Just keep in mind, she can hit anybody with lightning."

Yes. If she could control it. 

Which she couldn’t. 

Neither of them had yet broached the topic of training her power with her. Not even to…hone it into a weapon, but only to make sure that Eira didn’t electrocute any innocent bystanders. The problem was only that if they told her that…she would become deathly afraid of her own powers, which would make training them even more difficult. 

And then there was…another matter. "She cries herself to sleep about 4 males that she killed," Azriel said quietly. "I had killed more often than that before I even reached the Blood Rite."

"That’s not the same," Cassian disagreed quietly. "We both know it’s not. You and I are warriors. It’s what we’re supposed to do. Eira is not a fighter. She’s not a warrior. The deaths she caused weigh differently on her, and you know that."

Azriel sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

Cassian was right, of course. The deaths Eira had taken on her conscience…he knew they were different from his or Cassian’s. His own hands were stained a dark red, had been for centuries. They were both warriors, soldiers. They had been conditioned to accept death, to expect and embrace violence. It came with the job. It wasn’t the same for her.

And it worried him. 

"How could the cauldron ever think that I..." 

"The Cauldron has its own reasons," Rhys interrupted, his voice softer now. "We don't always understand its decisions, but it knows what it's doing."

Another sigh left Azriel.

He knew that. He knew the Cauldron was always right, that it knew what it was doing, even if its ways were not always clear. But it didn’t change the fact that he felt unworthy. He felt unworthy of the gift the Cauldron had offered, of a mate at all. Of Eira in particular. 

"I have hundreds of years of blood on my hands," he said, his voice low. "How could the Cauldron pick me for her? How could it think that I am worthy to be her mate?"

“Because you are worthy,” Rhys said softly, his voice almost tender. “More than you give yourself credit for. And because the Cauldron knows things about people that even they themselves don’t know.”

Azriel couldn’t help but scoff softly.

There was no way he was worthy of her. Not in a million years. And it didn’t matter if the Cauldron thought so.

But still, his chest ached as he looked at her, at the smile on her face as she talked with Feyre…Nyx still sleeping in her arms.

Rhys and Cassian were right. He was already wrapped around her little finger.

"You should stay for lunch."

Azriel groaned. He really wanted to, wanted nothing more than to stay for lunch and watch her for just a while longer.

But he couldn’t. The day was already half over, he had work to do.

"I can’t," he told Rhys, the words almost painful to get out of his throat. "I’ve got paperwork to look over, reports to submit, meetings to attend, patrol to"

"Yes yes, we know your schedule," Cassian cut him off with a snort. "And we know that you work yourself to an early grave. You can afford to stay for one more hour or so and have lunch with us. Have lunch with your mate. Aren't you supposed to spend time with her while there are people there to chaperone you?" Cassian wondered. "Isn't that what your books told you?"

Azriel shot him a glare. Cassian only grinned back innocently.

He wasn’t wrong, of course, he was absolutely right.

That was what the courtship was all about, right? He was supposed to show her that he was husband material. That he could provide for her and for any eventual future children.

Azriel shot another look towards the garden, where Eira was still talking with Feyre.

Rhys and Cassian knew they were right, knew that they had him in a corner. He wanted to stay. He wanted nothing more than to spend another hour here, with her.

"Just for that, you and Nesta can accompany us to the symphony this weekend," Azriel said drily. "I got tickets."

Cassian sputtered. Rhys snickered.

"You manipulative bastard," Cassian muttered. "I hate you. You know I hate the symphony."

"Well, as you said, I need to have people around to chaperone me," Azriel pointed out, his voice laced with false sweetness. "I thought maybe you and Nesta would enjoy the occasion." Azriel knew that Nesta would enjoy it. So only because of that Cassian would go along with it. 

"I'll get my revenge, don't you worry," his brother hissed.

"I’m looking forward to it," Azriel deadpanned, a smirk tugging at his lips. It widened when he saw Cassian’s enraged expression.

"You’re the absolute worst," Cassian grumbled.

Azriel couldn’t repress a snort, even as Rhys let out an amused huff.

"You’ll survive," he assured Cassian. "...I think.”

"I’m not so sure," Cassian said darkly. "I think I might just die of boredom."

"Well, Nesta is delighted," Azriel said brightly. "I already asked her this morning."

The betrayed look on Cassian’s face was almost comical.

“You bastard,” he muttered. "You’ve used my mate against me. That’s the lowest blow you’ve ever dealt.”

Azriel only grinned back at him, not sorry in the least. "It’s not my fault you’re whipped, brother,” he turned Cassian’s words back on him. 

“You should winnow right into the box,” Rhys said quietly. Azriel looked up surprised. 

“Eira didn’t do so well with doing outside,” Rhys explained quietly. “It’s getting better…slowly. But it scares her.”

“We would be with her,” Cassian protested. “Nothing would happen.”

“Her brain may understand that, but her heart doesn’t,” Rhys said with a sigh. “It happened outside, so…”

He didn’t end that thought, but he didn’t need to. Azriel understood. 

Lunch was served inside, and Eira seemed to flag slightly. An afternoon nap seemed to be in her future. The knife wound had healed well enough but she didn't seem to be up to her usual levels of ability yet. 

Still, she smiled as soon as she saw him, something that made his heart painfully constrict. Mate, his shadows sang happily. Her smile made his heart ache, made him want to scoop her up in his embrace and just hold her. 

Her face was paler than usual. Clearly, the wound was still affecting her. But the smile on her face, the happiness that lit up her expression as she saw him almost drove his worries away.

Almost.

He took the seat next to her, his shadows curling around her almost immediately, as if as desperate for the contact as he was.

She shot him an amused look, but her hand reached out to greet his shadows, scratching at their invisible heads almost instinctively.

Azriel could hardly keep himself from shuddering at the sight of her fingers running through his shadows. It was almost enough to drive him crazy with the primal, animalistic urges in the back of his head. The urges that urged him to pull her into his lap right there and then, bury his face in the crook of her neck and just hold her. Claim her. Mate.

He shoved them all down as firmly as he could, focusing on his breathing for a moment.

He was painfully aware of how closely Cassian was watching him, a smirk on his face. And based on the way Rhys was watching him, he probably wasn’t doing a very good job hiding his reaction to how she touched his shadows.

Damn it.

Luckily, Eira didn’t seem to realise the effect her actions had on him.

She was still staring at his shadows as if trying to work out how they worked. They clearly loved her. They purred and twirled around her, preening at the attention.

"How are you feeling?" he asked her, desperate for something, anything...to just hear her voice.

She looked up from his shadows to stare at him, her eyes a soft, gentle grey.

"I’m fine," she assured him, her voice so soft it sent a shiver down his spine. "I’ve just been so sleepy all day."

"The wound is still affecting you," he said, his voice low, his gaze studying her face carefully, taking in the paleness and the hint of dark circles under her eyes. "You need to rest." Maybe the symphony wasn't the best idea after all.

Of course, he wanted to spend more time with her. He always did.

But the knife was clearly still affecting her, making her tired, making her sleep longer than usual. The last thing he wanted was to have her exhaust herself with an evening out.

"Well, I hope you are up for an evening out later this week because Azriel got tickets for the symphony," Cassian said, between shovelling food into his mouth. Azriel glared at him.

"...the symphony?" Eira echoed, her gaze switching to him.

"The symphony," Azriel confirmed in a low mutter, shooting Cassian another glare.

He hadn't been intending to spring that on her. He had hoped to ask her a little more subtly She was staring at him, her eyes wide, a little confused, as if she couldn’t quite work out why he had gotten them tickets.

"Nesta and Cassian would accompany us," Azriel said quietly. "If you are up to it. If you aren't..." he trailed off.

Eira seemed to relax slightly at the mention of Nesta and Cassian accompanying them as if the prospect of it not being just her and him but a group event made her feel better. It made some of the tension in his chest ease, knowing that the prospect of going to the evening out didn’t make her anxious.

She smiled faintly, her eyes still a little confused.

"I would love to.".

The tension in Azriel’s chest eased further.

For a moment, he had almost feared she would turn down the offer. He had half expected a protest from her, a reason as to why she really wasn’t feeling well enough to go out. But she hadn’t. She had agreed. She wanted this.

His shadows chittered happily at the thought, twisting around her fingers.

His eyes followed their movements as if drawn to the sight of Eira’s hand touching his shadows.

They were practically writhing around her, as if drinking up the attention, practically begging for more.

Part of him wanted to pull her into his lap right there and then, just to hold her as she continued to pet his shadows.

He suppressed the urge though, forcing himself to look away as Rhys shot him a knowing smirk. He just knew Cassian was silently snickering at him on the other side of the table. Damnit.

He could feel Cassian’s curious gaze on him and knew that his brother had to be noticing how his shadows were acting. They were never so openly affectionate with anyone, except now with Eira.

Azriel couldn’t decide whether he hated his shadows for it or was grateful for them. Hated them for making it so obvious that he himself desired nothing more than to wrap her up in his embrace and hold her close. Or whether he was grateful for them, for getting the little bouts of contact he so desperately craved.

Part of him was tempted to command them to stop, to get them to cool it down so that Cassian and Rhys didn’t notice just how affectionate his shadows were being.

But he also knew how much they loved this, how much they loved her. He could see it in the way they twisted around her hands, in the way they seemed to curl into her touch, as if desperate for more contact.

The rational part of him was screaming that Cassian and Rhys were noticing, that they would have to be blind not to notice it.

The less rational part of him was silently preening, utterly satisfied that not only his shadows but everyone knew that she was his.

But then his brain finally kicked in and he muttered a soft command for them to behave.

To his relief, they obeyed, though not before coiling around her hand one more time. Azriel was half surprised that they didn’t attempt to actually lick her.

He could see Rhys’s lips twitching into a smirk, clearly having heard the command, and based on the grin on Cassian’s face he had also noticed the interaction.

His two brothers were clearly having a field day, noticing every little reaction he had to Eira.

Azriel didn’t care though. Right now, all he cared about was the pleased little smile on Eira’s face.

She seemed blissfully unaware of his shadows acting as they had, completely oblivious to the fact that they were practically worshipping her every move.

It was a thought that both delighted and concerned him.

Delighted, because she still clearly didn’t even know how much his shadows adored her. She had no idea the degree of their devotion to her.

But it also concerned him. It worried him, that she was completely unaware of his shadows worshipping at her feet. Worried him because she had no idea what lengths they would go for her…what lengths he would go for her. 

But the only person he could give the fault for that…it was himself. 

[lovelybluebirdie]

A sight to behold

Astarion x gn!Reader

Summary: Astarion is far more than his beauty, and you want him to know.

Word Count: 1,7k

fluff, comfort

[AO3]

“You should get some rest, love,” Astarion whispers against your hair. He holds you comfortably in his arms, your fingers loosely grasping the end of his collar while his hand strokes along your waist, caressing your battle-bruised skin. 

Usually sleep didn’t take long to claim you after an exhausting day of defeating vigorous creatures or learning another disturbing fact on the tadpole inside your brain, but tonight it seems to avoid you for some reason, leaving you tossing and turning within your bedroll until Astarion eventually pulled you into a loving embrace.

“I’m good,” you mutter as a deep yawn escapes your throat, smothering your last syllables.

Astarion cups your chin between his thumb and index finger, surveying your face. “You’re a weary little love if I ever saw one.” 

“Fine, you’ve got me,” you reply in a drowsy voice. “Maybe I am a little tired, but somehow I can't find any sleep.”

His brow furrows. “Is anything troubling you, my dear?” he asks sincerely, pondering if he might’ve done something wrong.

The unpleasant thought has no room to spread its hooks any further, as he's met with only fondness from your tired eyes, leaving his ribcage bursting with adoration.

“No need to worry about me, Astarion. I promise, everything’s alright,” you assure as you begin to massage his ears, causing them to twitch.

“You still need to get some sleep though,” he scolds with half-closed lids. It's more of a moan, as he’s unable to suppress his desire for your blissful fingers to go on. You seem to know exactly where he enjoys them most, he notices, when another quiet groan spills from his lips. 

You brush the pointy tip of his ear once more, cautiously not to overstimulate this sensitive part of him, before you rest your fingers on his neck and playfully raise an eyebrow.

“Perhaps you’ll allow me to indulge in your beauty a little longer before I find myself dozing off.”

A benign remark, and yet something inside Astarion shifts. Something he can’t fully fathom at first, a faint sense of melancholy starting to linger, despite the comfort of your touch.

He’s been called beautiful more times than he can remember, but he’ll never be able to judge for himself, being robbed of his reflection since Cazador turned him into a vampire spawn centuries ago – his own appearance remaining a dark shape from his past.

“Beauty you say?” he mumbles quietly. “Tell me then, what is it you see when looking at me?”

Your expression softens as you grasp for his hand and squeeze it lightly. It seems you’ve already caught his musings, as you often do, without him needing to vocalise that something’s on his mind.

“Well, your most outstanding features are probably your piercing eyes – crimson, like rubies,” you explain before resting a kiss on his cheek. 

Astarion listens attentively. His gaze must indeed be exceptionally sharp, he thinks, trying for a brief moment to recall the colour his eyes were before he was turned, but to no avail. A shiver runs down his spine as he wonders if you might think of him as a dangerous predator at times, uncertain whether this poses a pleasant or a frightening notion.

“Sometimes they’re full of anger, resembling freshly shed blood. And other times they’re… so soft. Reminding me of the cutest puppy eyes I’ve ever seen, almost competing with Scratch,” you giggle as you draw your thumb along his cheekbone, right where your lips parted from his skin.

Astarion stares at you in bewilderment. “What do you mean – puppy eyes?! I’m a century-old vampire spawn, not some gushing maiden.”

“You asked what I’d see when I’m looking at you, didn’t you?” You offer him a mischievous grin before blowing a strand of hair off his forehead. “Or do you prefer me to stop?” 

Astarion rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh. “Fine, go on.” 

Although not particularly delighted by the comparison you draw, he can’t resist the urge to listen to you further describing him.

“There are also your beautiful white curls – so smooth that I often find myself wondering which soap you use for them to stay that way,” you say as you take one of said strands between your fingers. “Come to think of it, those are probably one of my favourite parts of you, my love.”

“Mhm, I certainly have the best hair in camp,” Astarion purrs approvingly, a smug grin playing around his lips, vanishing the furrow on his brow from your previous remark.

“Don’t let Shadowheart hear,” you joke before continuing. “Of course I also adore your smile – seeing those little wrinkles when you laugh.”

Astarion’s grin freezes as he quickly feels the spot beneath his temples.

“My sweet, you surely must’ve noticed by now that one of a vampire spawn’s rare perks is eternal youth, so I’m quite positive that there are no such things as wrinkles on my face.”

“If you say so,” you chuckle as you reach for his hands to press loving kisses on his fingertips. “This was supposed to be a compliment, you know.”

“Perhaps if I wasn’t your lover, but your doting grandmother,” he grumbles with pursed lips, but doesn’t pull away. 

“I sense you desire to listen to some of your less grandmotherly features, then?”

Astarion battles another grin but loses, his lips twisting to a wry smile. “Yes, please.” 

It's true, he doesn’t want you to stop, secretly enjoying how sincere you express your sentiments.

“Let’s see if I find some, though…” you tease, earning a gentle nudge to your hip before your eyes are glued to his face again. “Honestly, you're stunningly beautiful, Astarion – a goddamn sight to behold.” 

Astarion’s smile widens at your flattery. “Oh dear, that sounds far better than being described with the attributes of an old lady.”

“As I thought,” you reply, brushing one of his curls behind his ear. “But do you want to know what I adore about you most?”

Astarion's eyes grow round. “As humble as I am, I'm always thrilled to receive some more praise.”

He notices a flush to your cheeks as you let your finger slowly trace along the bridge of his nose, until it comes to a rest on his lips. 

You clear your throat, seeming in search of the right words. 

“You’re so much more than your beauty,” you begin, your fingertip still resting on his bottom lip. He presses a kiss, his curiosity roused.

“I love the way you make me laugh, like no one else can, despite all the madness we have to endure. Or watching you reading for hours, chuckling at little passages you like. Seeing how you squint when you take in the details while you embroider a piece of fabric.” 

You pause to cup his face in your hands and smother him with gentle kisses, starting at his jaw, moving up to his nose and then his eyes. Astarion remains silent, graciously relishing your warmth. 

Your words and touch are like a balm, and not for the first time he wonders how he came to deserve such kindness.

“Your skin is cold, yes, but no one has ever kept me this warm when being in their presence. You’re brave, and despite everything you had to endure, you turned into this wonderful man I came to love more than everything I ever held dear. You're most precious to me Astarion, and I never want to spend a day without knowing you by my side.”

It’s not often that Astarion finds himself speechless, and yet your genuine affection robs him of the ability to respond. He has to hold back tears that dwell behind his fluttering lashes.

Deprived of his ability to speak he can only press a kiss to your forehead, followed by another peck to the tip of your nose, before his lips crash into yours – hastily, in need of you.

Astarion can sense your pulse quickening as his tongue enters your mouth, a soft moan escaping your lips while your hand runs through his hair. 

He gently bites your lower lip, the initial rush of his kiss replaced by a sudden tenderness, a flutter spreading right where his dead heart once beat.

Astarion has never felt like this with anyone but you. Perhaps you've turned him into a love-struck maiden after all, he thinks with a smile as he kisses you once more, gentle and soft, before your lips part and he glances at your endearing eyes, finding his voice again.

“I love you too, you cheeky little thing. Even if you have the guts to describe me like a grandmother first, and then almost make me weep from your loving words,” he chuckles while grasping the fabric of your nightgown to pull you closer against his body.

Astarion is used to conceal his emotions behind his jesting shell, and yet when he’s with you, his façade naturally crumbles.

“Guilty as charged,” you reply fondly.

“But honestly… Thank you,” Astarion speaks softly. “For seeing me, like no one else does.” His words come out raw, honest. “You know I don't pray to any of the gods, but if I did, I'm sure I would've caught myself thanking them for bringing you into my life. You're a vision, and through the time I spend with you, it almost feels like my dead heart starts beating again.”

“You’d better stop with that loving talk yourself, before we'll both start to weep,” you laugh as you reach for the corner of your eye, a single wet streak glistening on your skin.

Astarion moves up to kiss it away. “As much as I like to revel in our mutual affection, I don't wish to see more of your tears.”

“Well, perhaps we should call it a night then. I’m certain I’ll find some rest soon,” you whisper as you shift closer in the crook of his arm. 

“You truly should, as I'm positive there’ll be more shenanigans awaiting us tomorrow,” Astarion replies and places a kiss on your hair. “Sleep well, my love.”

“You too, Astarion,” you hum, sounding slightly weary again. Maybe sleep has decided in your favour after all, he thinks as he notices your breath becoming more even.

When you finally doze off in the safety of his embrace, Astarion's chest is filled with warmth over the love he holds for you.

Masterlist

[gurugirl]

ex-boyfriend's dad!harry part 3

Summary: You get to try things with Harry you never had the chance to before but the more you get to know him the more of him you want. And that's a problem.

A/N: This full series is already live on Patreon, with all 4 parts up! Part 4 will be posted here in one week.

Word Count: 8.3k

Series Warnings: explicit content, smut (including anal, rough blow jobs), age gap, angst, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, choking, slight degradation, use of small implements (collar and leash, anal plug)

Part 3 Warnings: 18+ only, smut (including spitting, spanking, use of toys, a leash, & anal with a dildo), daddy kink, unwanted feelings of attachment, angst, age gap, sub/dom dynamics

ex-boyfriend's dad!harry masterlist

. . .

Harry thought he’d feel more guilty once the reality of what he was doing hit him. Fucking his son’s ex-girlfriend. But instead, he only felt delighted that you were even interested. He was disappointed in Tyler, to be honest. The more he learned about how he’d treated you, the less Harry was worried about what Tyler might think. His son never deserved you.

And he wasn’t just excited that he had an open invitation for kinky hot sex with a lovely young woman who wanted to learn the ropes but he was also excited because you were sweet and he trusted you. You trusted him just the same which was why it was such a fantastic arrangement.

When he saw your text the moment he left your apartment - Can you come over tonight? He couldn’t stop grinning to himself all day.

So he packed a bag on the off chance you’d want him to stay the whole weekend, and he had a few things he wanted to bring that he could introduce you to.

You were already raring to go the moment you let him into your apartment. You wanted to try so many things and get started right away but Harry had other plans as he pulled you in by your neck and planted a big kiss on your lips as he dropped his leather duffel bag by the front door.

“Let’s talk first. Okay? Remember I told you we’d go over rules and boundaries? We still need to do that.” He pushed you toward your couch, walking you backward with his hand wrapped around the front of your throat.

That gesture of dominance alone had you hot. And Harry could tell you liked it.

You both sat on your couch, “Sorry. Just got so excited. I trust whatever you like and want to try.”

Harry grinned, “I’m excited too,” he softly smoothed his hand up your thigh, “Just want to get a few things out of the way first and then we can get to it.”

You nodded and angled yourself toward him, “Okay. You’re right.”

“I know I am,” he squeezed your thigh, “How was work?”

You laughed, “Work? Is that what you want to talk about?”

Harry sighed and sat back against the cushion, “Yeah. Why not? Are you in a hurry and suggesting we don’t have time to talk about how our day was?”

“No. I didn’t mean that. I’m not in a hurry. Just thought… I don’t know,” you shrugged, “I think it would be nice to talk. I didn’t really know what to expect when you got here I guess.”

“Well, let’s start with this,” he rubbed his hand over the top of your thigh in this way that had you feeling a little calmer. “So tell me how your day was.”

You recounted various parts of your day, but nothing that was particularly interesting. The most fascinating thing had been Harry, obviously. And now he was sitting on your couch with a hand on your thigh and his eyes searing into you.

“And what about you? How was your day?” You hesitantly put your hand over Harry’s and began to play with his rings.

“Normal. Except for the little secret I carried with me all day. Couldn’t stop thinking about last night. How do you feel about everything?”

You lifted your bum to tuck your leg underneath yourself and licked your lips, “Well… I liked everything you did. I had a lot of fun. I want more.”

Harry watched you wiggle and adjust your seating with a smirk, “Okay. We can do more. Are you feeling sad about Tyler or anything like that?”

You shook your head, “No. Absolutely not. I think you kind of erased him from my mind. It’s already better with you.”

He nodded, “Cause if we keep seeing each other, at some point, there’s a chance he’s going to find out. If I have you over one night I’m not gonna want you to keep quiet,” he brought a hand up to your jaw, “I don’t want to rub it in his face or anything, but we can only keep so quiet can’t we?”

You grinned and nodded. Just the thought of your ex hearing his dad fucking you made you wet. What was wrong with you?

“Let’s talk about using colors for things you like and don’t like. Yeah?”

You nodded again.

“Green means you like everything I’m doing. With no hesitation. I’ll ask you occasionally what your color is and if you’re green we’ll keep going. Understood?”

Another nod of your head as you kept your eyes pinned to his.

“Good. Yellow and red will stop everything. For yellow, if you ever feel like you might not like something but you aren’t sure, that’s yellow. We’ll talk about it and change it up if we need to or explore it more if you want. You need to say yellow if you ever get to the point of being unsure and you don’t need to wait for me to check in. Got it?”

“Yes.”

“Now red means we’re done with the session. That means I’ve gone too far and didn’t pay attention to your cues. We’ll discuss what went wrong and we’ll never do it again. It means you unquestionably did not like something and that it’s not something you ever want to try again. You’ll say red even if I don’t check in if you get to this point. However, we want to avoid red. That’s what yellow is for. Red means we’re not in synch and this won’t work if we’re not communicating. Makes sense?”

You nodded again.

“Now, explain to me what your colors mean. I want to make sure you understand it clearly so there’s no confusion when it’s needed.”

You cleared your throat and spoke, with as much confidence as you could muster. You already knew about the traffic light system but you’d never been in a relationship where it was going to be used. You appreciated Harry’s thoroughness.

“Green means all good and that I like what’s happening. If something doesn’t feel as good that I want to come back to later or like… I’m not sure if I enjoy it I’ll say yellow. And red means I don’t like something. I’ll tell you my color when you check in but if I feel yellow or red I’ll tell you right away without waiting for you to check. And… red is something we want to avoid,” you licked your lips and nodded.

“Very good. Anything you want to ask or say before we get started? I can just feel the excitement bubbling off of you honey.”

You laughed and looked down at your lap before tilting your head back up to look at him, “I just want you to kind of lead. I loved giving you a blow job last night. I want more of that. Want it like… maybe, even more rough today. I just want to feel like,” you puffed out an embarrassed laugh, “Want to feel like I’m being used. Kind of like you need to teach me a lesson or something. Like I’ve been bad.”

“Oh yeah? You like to be punished then? Maybe you want Daddy to tell you how bad you’ve been? What a naughty girl you are. Only way to set you straight is to fuck your face and spank your ass?” He had a teasing grin on his face.

You swallowed and nodded, “Yeah. Exactly.” You ran your hand up his thigh and kept your eyes on his.

“Do you feel like only good girls get to have orgasms, Y/n?”

You nodded again, “Yeah. Only when I’m good I’m allowed.”

Harry grinned and hummed, “I think I see. Go into your bedroom and take all of the toys out that you like to use on yourself. Line them up on your bed for me so I can take count.”

You got up from the couch and Harry followed you to your bedroom and watched as you pulled a large box from your dresser and then laid it on your bed.

Removing each of your toys and placing them on your comforter.

There was your basic silicon dildo, then the slim one you used on yourself for anal. You had three plugs in different sizes, a clit sucker that had lost charge the last time you used it, a normal-sized purple vibrator, a massaging wand (that was meant to be a back massager but you’d never used it for its intended purpose) then a tiny pocket vibrator you’d only used a handful of times. Plus condoms, lube, and a leather strap that could double as a collar and leash in one.

Harry watched you straighten out everything and picked up the leather strap, “Is this a leash?”

You nodded, “Yeah. I bought it last year but I’ve never used it. Thought it would be fun to try but… well I didn’t want to use it alone in case something went wrong.”

He nodded and kept the leather in his hands as he looked at everything else you had lined up.

“Good. This is excellent. You’ve got some great toys here. Which is your favorite?”

You laughed and ran your hands over the basic vibrator, “I love this. It just vibrates my insides and it’s quiet so I can use it even if my roommate is home. Also this,” you picked up your clit sucker, “It works super fast. Can make me come in like two minutes if I’m in a hurry.”

Harry smiled and took the clit sucker from you to click it on but it was dead.

“Oh… it ran out of charge. I use it a lot.”

He dropped it on your bed and looked you up and down, “Bet you do. Poor thing didn’t ever get her pussy licked properly. Had to take care of herself. But Daddy’s here for that now. Isn’t he?”

You watched his jaw clench as he stepped directly in front of you and he cupped your chin in his palm as you nodded.

“Anything else you use that isn’t here?”

It was like he could read your mind somehow. Like he could see it on your face that you had a little secret.

You nodded and felt your face heat up, “Yeah. One more thing.”

Harry cocked his head, “And where is it?”

You laughed quietly and looked away from his eyes, “It’s in my… bottom.”

He released your face and took a step back, “Get your clothes off.”

You pulled your shirt off quickly and then your pants before moving your hands up to the band of your bra to take it off. You watched Harry closely as you removed every article of fabric that covered you until your panties were on the floor and you were standing naked before him.

“Well? Are you going to show me willingly or do you need me to force you to bend over so I can see what it is you have tucked in your bum?”

Harry knew very well what you had inside of your ass. You had a fourth plug and he wanted to see it. Liked that you’d put it in when you knew he was coming over. You were indeed a dirty little thing and he was going to have a lot of fun with you.

This was what you liked. It’s what you had been wanting. Something about his tone made it clear that he was in charge. The spike of adrenaline that notched its way up every vertebra in your spine gave you a disjointed, hazy sensation that spread over your limbs.

You turned and stepped in toward your bed before leaning down to press your palms onto the mattress next to your bottle of lube. You turned to look over your shoulder at the man who was right behind you, towering over you as he laid his palms on your hips and glued his eyes to the space between your legs and then just up to where you had the prettiest of your anal plugs snuggled tight in your bum.

Harry’s eyes shot to yours and you felt one of his hands drag up your spine to the back of your neck and he pressed your cheek down into the mattress, “When did you put this in?”

“I… after I got home from work today. Two hours ago.”

His hand stayed at the back of your neck as you felt his other hand move toward your bottom and then tap the pink glass plug making you jump, “And why did you put it in?”

“Wanted it to be pretty for you.” You gulped down your saliva and tried peeking at him from your peripheral but it was impossible.

“For me? Well, that was awfully sweet of you. And how did you do it? What is your method of putting one of these in?” He gently twisted the glass a half turn and you moaned.

“Uh… I work myself up thinking about something sexy. Finger myself a little bit and then put lube over everything and slowly twist it in until it’s fit inside.”

“And what did you think about this time that got you all worked up?” His voice was suddenly closer and you could see the outline of him leaning over your back.

You closed your eyes as you felt the fabric of his pants brush against the back of your thighs, “You, Daddy.”

Harry hummed in satisfaction as he let go of the back of your neck, and you felt both of his hands on your ass, keeping you spread for him.

“Has anyone else ever seen how pretty you look with one of these in?”

“No. It’s always just been in private.” You don’t think you’d ever felt in such a vulnerable position with a man before. To have someone standing behind you in your bedroom while you were bent over naked showing him your pink glass anal plug made your skin heat up all over.

“So I’m the first person who’s been given permission to see you like this?”

“Yes. You’re the first.”

“And what should we do with this right now? Hmm? You’re being such a good girl for Daddy I think it’s only fair you choose what’s next.”

You already knew what you wanted. It was all you could think about the whole day. At work, while you ate lunch, on the way home… You wanted his cock down your throat again.

“I want you to fuck my face. Please.”

Harry laughed and you felt him move away, his hands no longer on you anymore, “Is that so? Couldn’t get enough of my cock down your throat, baby?”

You shook your head no with your cheek still smushed in the comforter, “No. I need more. I want to try to be better.”

You heard Harry remove his belt and watched it drop onto the mattress as the buckles clanked together before the sound of a zipper and then fabric hitting the ground had you straining to see behind you.

“Good girls get what they want, Y/n. And since you’re practically being an angel I’ll fuck your face if that’s what you want. Turn around to face me.”

You stood up and faced Harry, noticing he was naked now, his thickened cock in his palm, as he placed his free hand at the back of your head and ran his lips over yours for a moment, mouths slotting together until he broke the kiss and let go of the back of your head, “Pick up the leather strap and get on your knees.”

A small grin quirked up on your face as you did as he said and lowered to your floor, your knees digging into your cotton rug with the leather strap in your hands.

He reached down to tilt your face upward, “Look at this pretty face and those soft lips,” he cooed at you as he pushed at your bottom lip with his thumb, “You sure you want this? Because when I’m done with you you’re gonna have tears running down your cheeks and drool dripping from your swollen lips down your chin. Bruised knees and maybe a bruised throat even. It’s gonna make it hard for you to talk.”

You nodded and tightened your grip on the strap as you looked from his dick to his face, “I want it, Daddy.”

He looked over your face with an amused smile on his lips and bent down to press his lips to yours, “Then Daddy wants it too.”

Harry reached his palm down for the leather strap and wrapped the material around your neck, hooking the thin leather into a notch that was tight, but not so tight you’d lack oxygen.

With his hand stroking his cock right in front of your face he pulled the strap back making your head tilt with it, “Color?”

Your eyes wobbled from the tight fist he had around the strap to his eyes, “Very green.”

Harry gave you a dimpled grin that felt so much sweeter than the moment called for, “Very green.  Good.”

He pulled at the strap, moving your face to his cock, “Get it nice and wet. Want to see that tongue cover every inch of my cock before you’re allowed to suck on it.”

Opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue you began to lap at the skin along his length. Pushing saliva out of your mouth and pressing it over his cock slowly as you kept your eyes up toward his and you could feel the strap pulling at your neck, guiding you along his shaft.

You moaned when you flattened your tongue over his slit and his mouth parted. Even though he didn’t make any noises to indicate he liked it, you could see it on his face.

With every line and curve of his cock wetted, he dragged you back to his tip, pressing it to your lips, “Time to suck now, Y/n. Still want Daddy to fuck your throat?”

You nodded, your lips brushing over his ruddy crown, “Yes.”

“You won’t be able to speak once I’m sliding into the back of your throat,” his finger squeezed the outsides of your neck around the strap, “So you need to pinch me here,” he took your hand and made you hold onto his sturdy thigh, “Do you understand?”

Another nod as you kept your eyes on his.

“Give it a test pinch. Let me see what you’ll do if you need air or need me to stop.”

You pinched his skin under your thumb and pointer finger but Harry tutted at you, “Harder. I need you to be serious about the way you do this so I can feel it, honey. When my balls are tucked against your chin and you’re swallowing around me I’m not gonna feel a puny pinch like that. Try again.”

You puffed out a breath and pinched harder. A pinch you knew he’d feel without question.

“There you go. That’s the one. Stung like a fucker. You ready, baby?”

You smiled, “Ready, Daddy.”

Harry softly shook his head as he looked at you proudly before he forced your mouth back against his tip and the moment you parted your lips he was yanking you down his cock. He didn’t push his whole length in on the first go but he did get deep enough that your eyes widened and you pulled in a deep breath through your nose to prepare for the next thrust.

And the next one was the same; deep but not punishing. And then the third until you’d figured out the rhythm and your tongue cradled the underside of his cock and he let out a deep breath that had you feeling pleased with yourself.

When you felt him slide deeper and your sinuses stung your mouth began to water involuntarily. His deep breaths turned into pants as he kept his hand tight around the strap to hold you in place and he started to thrust deeper.

“Fuckin’ so pretty for me, baby,” he spoke as he looked down at you, hips rocking smoothly, slowly getting you ready for what was to come. “Already drooling and we haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.”

You couldn’t help the saliva that was dripping out of your mouth. His cock sliding over your tongue and nudging at the roof of your mouth activated your salivary glands.

You hollowed your cheeks and sucked as you peeked up at him.

“Take a deep breath in through your nose,” he spoke.

You sucked oxygen into your lungs as he slid his tip back to your lips and then the sudden plunge of his cock over your tongue had you immediately gagging. With your neck held in place, Harry bucked his hips into your mouth and you felt him curve down your throat, and again, and again.

You began to sputter as you felt tears slip down your cheeks and then suddenly his hips were pressed against you as he rocked in and moaned loudly. You couldn’t breathe as you gagged around him, your natural reflex was to swallow and gurgle.

But it was his deep guttural moan that kept you focused. You were making him feel good. And that was all you wanted.

“That’s it, isn’t it? Like how it feels don’t you, little girl?”

You moaned and tried to look up at him but your eyes were bleary and all you could see was the skin on his hips and the dark ink of his laurel tattoos as he continued pressing you down on him.

“Bet your little plug is feeling so good too… fuck…” Harry pulled himself back as you coughed and a gush of spit dripped down your chin and to the floor.

He chuckled when you tried to tilt forward to put him back in your mouth, “Go on then. Suck Daddy off. Just so desperate to gag on it aren’t you?”

You moaned as you curved your tongue under his cock and lowered yourself. Harry let you take the reins for a bit as you forced your mouth down and felt his tip press past your tonsils and you gagged again with your eyes tightly squeezed shut.

The only thing you had on your brain was to get him off. To please him. You wanted him to come more than you wanted to rub your own clit to get yourself off.

Every time you dipped down and the deeper you went the further away any other thoughts became. Everything was all about getting him to come.

Harry grunted and then you felt the strap pulling at your neck again to hold you in place as he began to fuck himself down your throat.

His cock was already twitching at the way your mouth engulfed him in wet heat, the way your throat constricted around his tip and frenulum every time you gagged and swallowed. His heart was pounding the closer he got to his own release and he recognized you were taking him like a pro. Like you’d been choking on cocks for years. It’d been a long time since anyone he’d been with liked this sort of thing.

And you loved it.

With your palms on his muscled thighs, the gargled noises coming from your mouth, the drool on the floor, and your pussy slippery wet you moaned deeply around him as more tears fell down your skin and mixed with the saliva leaking from your lips.

He pulled back again, letting you suck in just enough air so he could do it all over again. When you felt the thatch of his hair pressing into your nose, the leather strap pinching the skin on your neck as you were held in place, he groaned and you could feel his thighs begin to tremble just before he pulled his cock all the way out of your mouth.

You gasped and coughed as you leaned forward, spit dribbling out of your mouth and making a puddle on your rug.

The nip of the strap on your neck had you looking up at him through wet lashes and then you felt his hands under your arms helping you stand on wobbly legs, “Color?”

You heaved and grasped onto his arms, “Green.”

“Good. I’m gonna finish off inside of your pretty pussy. How’s that sound?”

You nodded, “Yes, Daddy.” You were somewhat knocked off kilter from the sudden change in position as he pushed you onto the bed, making you bend over for him on your hands and knees with your feet hanging off.

He took your hips in his hands and stood behind you, his feet on the floor as you automatically pressed your face into the comforter. You felt the spray of spit over your pussy and you moaned as you arched your back and pushed your bum back toward him.

His hands smoothed down to your ass and you felt his thumb press on the glass piece sticking out of your bum, “Look at how soaked you are, baby. You really do like sucking cock don’t you?”

You smiled and sighed, “Yes. Love it, Daddy.”

Harry grinned, though you couldn’t see it as he painted his thick crown through your puffy folds, slicking himself back and forth, “Fuck yourself on it. Get yourself off on my cock.”

You felt him poking at your entrance so you pressed yourself back as Harry kept his length steady in his hand.

“There you go, baby, just like that. Let me see you work for it, honey.”

You swiveled your hips and pushed yourself down further, feeling his girth open you up.

Harry pressed into you, holding you tight by your hips and then he pushed you further into the bed making you scoot up a few feet. He followed behind you spreading his thighs and getting onto his knees behind you, “Keep going, baby.”

When you felt his hand press at the back of your neck to keep you down you moaned and began to swivel your hips. And even though you were supposed to be the one fucking yourself on him, you could feel his subtle thrusts, working himself into you deeper with his thighs.

The little plug was a tight squeeze in your ass with his cock inside of you but it felt so good. Every movement of your hips made the plug shift slightly and even Harry could feel the hard glass pressing through your anus against his cock in your pussy.

The cry that fell from your mouth when he began twisting the plug inside of you had him chuckle, “You okay, Y/n?”

You whimpered a yes as you continued circling your hips, pressing your cunt over his cock wetly.

But then suddenly Harry let go of your neck and you felt both of his hands on your ass as he held you still and began fucking himself into you.

The switch in sensation had your body tingling as he dipped in so far you felt the wind punched from your lungs.

Harry’s own moans grew louder and more desperate with each strike of his hips against your ass but then he leaned over your back and you felt his fingers sliding through your crease until he bumped into your clit and ran the pads of his fingers in circles against your neglected nub.

You gasped at the relief as Harry rocked inward, his hips pasted to your ass.

“Daddy it’s so deep!” You whimpered with his cock fully impaled into your cunt. He couldn’t have been deeper if he tried.

“I know baby,” he inhaled breathily with a moan as he continued pressing in, in, in… his back and his thighs flexing with every push.

He wasn’t going hard but he was achingly deep with his fingers at your clit and the plug tight in your bum, everything felt just right. But when you felt his lips on your neck you began to quiver and you could feel that yummy sparkle start to spread over your thighs and through your core.

His breath against the shell of your ear sent chills down your neck and over your shoulders as your body began to tense and your walls gripped his cock tightly.

“You need to come, baby? Yeah? It’s feeling so good, isn’t it?”

Your mouth dropped open as you choked out a pathetic wail, “Oh my god! Yes!”

When your pussy began to spasm over him he groaned at the feel of you coming, “There we go… Can’t help yourself, can you? Know you never had it like this before, honey. Your pussy deserves to feel so good,” Harry’s words fell over your neck and you could hear how far gone he was as he babbled filth into your ear, “Needed Daddy’s cock to make it better, yeah?”

You couldn’t answer as you clenched the blankets in your fists and your body shivered in your orgasm.

“Fuck baby… squeezing around me so good,” he spoke through clenched teeth, “Gonna stuff your little fertile pussy full of my come, okay?”

You whined an obnoxiously loud Yes, Daddy! into the room and you heard him cough out a deep groan before his cock began to pump and throb inside of you. Your own orgasm still making your pussy clench around him tightly, milking his shaft and sucking him dry.

Harry rocked into you and fucked you forward, making you flatten to the bed as he finished himself inside you just like he said he was going to do.

You panted in deep breaths as he kissed your shoulder blades and he shifted behind you, “You okay, Y/n?”

You sputtered out a small laugh and smiled, “So fucking good.”

Harry pulled his cock from you and rolled you to your back. You felt him unhooking the strap around your neck and pulling it from you as you opened your eyes to look up at him. Lifting a hand to press over his heart you sighed, “Thank you.”

Harry paused and settled his gaze on yours as one side of his mouth curved up in a soft smile, “So sweet,” he brought a hand up to your cheek, “Thank you, Y/n.”

He helped you clean up as you laid flat on your back, still out of it, but with an easy smile on your face, “How was that?”

“Harry, that was… it was so good. I want more, though. Harder too.”

He laughed as he lay on his side next to you and smoothed his palm over your belly and squeezed at your tits, “Understood. We can try a few new things next time. See what else you like. We just want to ease into this, though. Okay?”

You nodded as you smiled at him. This was something else you loved. The way he was with you after sex. Tyler didn’t bother with you once he’d gotten off. But Harry seemed to enjoy basking with you after.

“Did you eat before I came over?”

You laughed and rolled your eyes before shaking your head, “I don’t usually eat dinner until later and you got here before my usual dinner time.”

You felt Harry’s thumb press over your hardened nipple, “I see. Well, we need to make sure we’re eating, don’t we? Let’s go get you some food.”

. . .

“Harry please?!” You were trying to be patient with his rule of slowly introducing things but he insisted on not diving right into everything. You wanted him to fuck your ass.

You woke up that morning with Harry’s hard cock pressing into your bottom. So you slid yourself up and down his shaft until he woke up completely and he slowly fucked you with his arms wrapped tight around your middle and his chest pressed into your back lying on your sides, your pussy filled with him until you were both coming in that sleepy, early morning daze.

Harry laughed from behind you after he’d just filled you with his come, “I just made you come, Y/n,” he still had you in his arms as he spoke against your neck from behind.

“I want you inside of my ass. You wouldn’t do it yesterday. Only put your fingers in. I want to feel your big cock, Daddy.”

Harry did love how much you liked sex but sometimes it did come as a surprise. A puff of his breath hit the shell of your ear, “Well right now I’m not physically able to anyway. Need to recover for a while because I just came. But I can give you something else. We can use your dildo if you want. How does that sound?”

You pouted but you knew better than to complain. Harry had already shown you so much in such a short span of time. It was Sunday morning and you two had been enjoying each other all weekend, getting to know one another.

“Okay.”

Harry released you from his arms and you jumped when his palm landed down on your sore bottom, “Hands and knees.”

You adjusted yourself as he asked and watched him hop off your bed to open up your box of toys. He picked up the slim anal dildo and your regular-sized silicon dildo before kneeing up behind you and placing his palms over your bottom. You felt the cool wetness from the lube he poured over your ass and then felt his fingers pressing it gently inside of you, making you push back into his hand.

“Want one here, and here?” He poked at your pussy entrance with his free hand, “Or just anal right now?”

You turned to look at him behind you, “Maybe just the one for now. My pussy is so sensitive after everything we did yesterday.” You laughed.

Harry grinned at you and nodded, “Fair enough.”

He started by fingering you. It was slow and he moved his free hand over your bum softly, “Probably gonna get rock hard again just watching this. So pretty back here. Little pussy dripping with my come, your ass opening up for my fingers...”

Despite your pussy being a bit wrecked from Harry’s big cock, you were still wet and turned on. Clearly.

Harry moved his fingers out and then dipped in to kiss your hole. You felt his lips peck gently over you and then he picked up the dildo, adding more lube to it.

“Can you turn to look at me? Want to be able to see your face at first so I can make sure you’re feeling good.”

You turned to look at him over your shoulder. He was so handsome. Thick curls all wild and strewn about from sleep and sex, his strong chest gently rising and falling, pink lips curved up in a smile…

He lifted the slim toy up so you could see it, “Ready?” He asked as he smeared his thumb over your anus.

You nodded with a smile, “Yes.”

He lowered his gaze to your ass and you felt the tip of the toy press into your anus. You tilted your hips down and arched your back for a better angle as you kept your eyes on his face.

He was slow and steady with his movements but you were used to the dildo by then. As he pushed it past your hole and dipped it in as far as it would comfortably go on the first thrust you moaned softly.

“Feels okay?” He moved his eyes from where he was working you open to your face.

“Feels good.” You nodded and licked your lips.

It was hard to explain how it felt to have your ass filled with a toy. It was interesting. But a really good kind of interesting. An interesting that you craved and you just knew that having Harry inside of you would be even better. A warm thick cock attached to a handsome, strong man that you could trust would just be the best.

When he began to thrust into you his lips parted at the sight and you swayed your hips slightly as the toy began to take up that space and bump into whatever was in there that had your body shaking.

Harry grinned, “You okay?” He knew you were. He just liked hearing you tell him how good you were feeling.

You groaned and stitched your brows together as you nodded, ‘Yes, Daddy…”

It gave you that ache that you never experienced with vaginal sex. It was something so deep and full feeling, so raunchy and vulgar. You loved it.

“You’re shaking already, baby. Is this what happens when you do it yourself?”

You panted, “Yeah. It’s like my body just can’t stop. It feels really good.” Even your words were shaky.

Harry pumped the toy in and out and then used his other hand to slide delicately over your folds and up to your clit, “Want me to rub you here? Or is it too sensitive?”

The pads of his long fingers stroking softly over your clit was exactly what you needed. You gasped and dropped your head with your mouth dropped open, “Don’t stop. Just like that, Daddy.”

So he didn’t stop. Harry did it exactly right. It was perfect with his gentle fingers on your bud, soft thrusts that he deepened as your moans grew louder and your body shook harder. He could tell you could take more and that was quite exciting. It meant you might be ready for his cock soon enough.

“Oh, honey…” Harry breathed, “Fucking so pretty. Just dripping and clenching. Gonna come for Daddy?”

You nodded as your head hung down. You were already two steps away from your orgasm. That was another thing about anal. It was a guarantee you’d come and depending on the moment you could come very fast. And having Harry fuck you with your dildo like he was with his fingers slipping back and forth on your clit, it was one of those moments.

Your whole body began to burn as your muscles tensed and you cried out, “I’m coming, Daddy! Oh my god! Oh my god!”

Harry held back his laugh of surprise. He couldn’t believe how hard your body was shivering and the way you clamped over the toy, he could hardly slip it in any further so he let you roll your hips and shake and cry as he kept the pads of his fingers on your clit. It was the fastest he’d ever seen any woman come. And he knew there was so much to explore with you. You two were just getting started.

You collapsed onto your tummy the moment Harry pulled the toy from you and he kissed his way up from your bum to your shoulders, “How was that, baby? Did I do it right?”

You smiled to yourself with your eyes closed, “Perfect. So good. But I want your cock next time.”

Harry laughed and pulled you into his arms, as seemed to be the norm. He ran a hand over your cheek and kissed your forehead, “What time does your roommate come back?”

You looked up at him and placed your palm on the butterfly tattoo, “I think early afternoon. Probably should go before she gets here, huh?”

Harry shrugged, “If you want me to.”

“I don’t want you to,” you smiled at him.

“Okay. Then I’ll make you breakfast. How’s that sound?”

. . .

You learned quickly that Harry, while loving to be rough with you in bed, had an innate need to take care of you at the same time. You got used to him fucking the life out of you and then making you something to eat afterward.

It was usually during the time he was in your kitchen, naked, making you a meal that you learned about one another. He asked you lots of questions. About your parents, your job, your friends, and even things like what your favorite television show was.

You learned that he and his ex co-parented while raising Tyler and they always got along just fine but they never really got past that casual stage in their relationship before she got pregnant. Tyler had been an accident baby. Despite Harry wearing condoms he got his ex pregnant. They were both seeing other people by the time she realized it and they never saw the need to get married.

And Harry learned that your mom mostly raised you. You did see your dad once in a while when he was around but for the most part, he wasn’t in your life. He was in the military and your parents married young when they found out she was pregnant. But he was hardly ever there to help raise you. She wound up divorcing him when she learned he was sleeping with other women. You hadn’t seen him in over a year when you told him that story.

Getting closer to Harry was easy by the time you’d been sleeping with him for a couple of months. He was exactly what you wanted in a partner, but that was dangerous because you were certain the arrangement you had with him was always meant to be casual. So you tried not to let yourself overthink things with him. But that was hard because of how attentive he was and how he just seemed to get you without even trying.

The connection you had with him was so much better than it was with Tyler. Leaps and bounds better. You were thankful Tyler was just a part of your past now. You realized, partly thanks to Harry, that you deserved a hell of a lot better than your ex. You kind of wished Harry would suggest making things a little more exclusive. Because he was all you could really think about. You felt like if there was anyone you did deserve, well maybe that could be Harry.

But those thoughts and those feelings were pushed way way down and swallowed up by your better judgment. You couldn’t let yourself get too lost in him. Not until he gave you some sign that he felt the same or wanted more of you. Because you were most certainly not going to be the one to tell him what was really happening to you under the surface. You had to keep working to make sure those emotions stayed in check.

You didn’t see him every week, and maybe the fact that you didn’t have full access to him was what was making you feel the things you were. Sometimes you drove yourself crazy wondering what he was up to on evenings you were free when he was busy. You didn’t know if maybe there was someone else he might be interested in. You were too scared to ask him that. It could be possible you supposed, because Harry was the whole package. Any woman would throw themselves at the chance to date him. You were sure he wasn’t having sex with anyone else because you two weren’t using condoms and he told you that you would both be honest if that needed to change. But that didn’t make you feel all that much better because your feelings for him were starting to sprout big green leaves and take root deep in your heart. It was too much.

And that became exhausting to tamp down.

. . .

Harry’s chest was still rising and falling rapidly after you’d just swallowed down every drop of his come. You wiped the tears from your face and the drool off your chin as he helped you stand up.

The plan had been to try anal sex for the first time that night. Harry had been using your little dildo to get you ready, your plugs helped, and his fingers too. You’d been begging him for it but he always wanted to take things easy. One step at a time he said. And he meant it. He only introduced one or two new things every time you saw him.

“Bend over the bed, sweetheart.”

You did as he said as your head swirled with thoughts and feelings you didn’t want to have surfaced.

He was gentle with you as he placed his palm on your butt cheek to pull at it and used his other hand to twist and slowly bring the plug out.

He hissed when he saw your puckered hole and he dipped two fingers in, pressing into your bum in the way only Harry could.

You hid your face in the crook of your arm and felt the moisture from the tears that had been forced from your eyes when he was gagging you with his cock.

And the way your heart was pounding in your chest, you could hardly hear him asking you a question.

“Hey,” Harry lifted you up and sat down with you on the bed, “Are you okay?”

All his check-ins and his softness, those eyes looking at you with such care, and the way his voice and hands comforted you had you tearing up again. But this time the tears were coming from emotion.

“I’m okay,” your lip quivered and you turned away from him. You felt silly to get so overemotional but you couldn’t help it.

You felt Harry shift on the bed and then pull your back against his chest as he scooted into your pillows against your headboard, “Don’t say you’re okay when you’re not. Tell me what happened.���

You sniffed and took a deep breath, trying to control the way your heart wanted you to burst into mawkish tears that would surely have him ending the whole thing with you.

“I can’t…” you inhaled sharply, “It’s fine…”

Harry gripped your chin and made you turn your head to look at him, “You need to communicate to me what happened so I can fix it. I can’t make this better if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

You blinked and a gush of tears were pushed from your lashes as you shook your head and kept your mouth shut.

“Okay. That’s okay. Let’s just sit here for a little while. Take a deep breath…” he smoothed his palm over your arm and it made your heart blossom even more, those windy sprouts trying to work budding flowers open, but that only made you cry harder.

He tried to calm you down. He was doing everything right; holding you close to his chest, speaking quietly into your ear, running his gentle hands over your skin… but that was the problem. It all felt too good. It all felt too real.

You moved yourself out of his arms and climbed off your bed to find your sweater, “I… uh…” you looked around your floor and grabbed the material to pull over your head, “Need some sleep I think. Sorry. Maybe we can see each other another night,” your words tumbled out unsteadily.

Harry followed after you as he slid his briefs up his legs, “What’s going on? Y/n you need to talk to me now,” he turned you around to look at him.

You kept your eyes on his inky swallows and shook your head, “I can’t.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” you looked up at him. That was the last thing you wanted him to think, “It’s me. It’s not you. I just need to be alone.”

You heard him sigh, “Is that really what you want, Y/n?”

You nodded.

And with that, he let go of your arms and dressed himself in silence. You held back any further tears as you watched him with his back turned to you as he slid his t-shirt on over his head and then put his wallet and cell phone into his back pockets.

When he picked up his leather duffel bag he turned to look at you and his expression was unreadable but he stood in front of you, cupped the back of your head with his palm, and kissed your temple before opening your bedroom door and seeing himself out of your apartment.

The moment you heard your front door click shut you sat down on your floor and let yourself go completely. Though you did control your volume. You didn’t need your roommate hearing and then coming in to check on you.

You needed to break down and face your feelings and those little niggling thoughts once and for all. You didn’t know what to do with them but you needed to allow them to come out of you because you’d been pretending with Harry and that wasn’t fair to him or to you.

It wasn’t like you were in love with him, but you were feeling things that you knew would quickly slip into that realm. He was a dream and you wanted him to yourself. But how could you know if he felt the same unless you asked? And if you asked and he didn’t think of you the way you thought of him well that would be that. Surely, he wouldn’t want to keep entertaining you the way he was if you were falling for him. He was too kind to allow that to happen. He’d break it off and send you on your way before things got too real for you.

And that would devastate you.

A/N: Ooops 🤭 We have to have a tiny bit of angst in order to move this plot forward! Hope you enjoyed my loves! Part 4 in one week! xoxo

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[helaelaemond]

To Watch - Aemond x reader

Pairing:  Aemond x reader

Word count: 2.3k

Summary: Aemond reads an old story from the Reach to you in bed. You like to see how long he can read aloud before he stutters.

Content warning(s): none

INCLUDES: handjob (m receiving)

Taglist: @babyblue711 / @myfandomprompts / @sylasthegrim / @arcielee

“And so it was on that first fateful morning that Ser Emmon saw the sweet Queen Delena, and knew he loved her.” 

You smile as Aemond reads aloud to you, no louder than a whisper. “I missed you today.” 

He turns the page of the book in his hand. “Hmm?” 

“You didn’t join us for dinner. It was just Aegon and I.” 

“Well, that’s not so bad.” He runs slow circles over your waist with his thumb where you lie in his bed, propped up by soft feather pillows.

“That’s why you should have been there.” On the new page of the book in his hand, there is a gilded painting of a knight in silver armour, and the queen in her crown of flowers. “Just us.” 

“I just needed some time alone after today.” 

You inch closer to him and turn slightly to press your chest against him. He is so close that you can see every eyelash, every ghost of the freckles that used to splash across his nose. “I saw you in the yard for hours.” 

“Were you watching me?” The corners of his mouth quirk up slightly. 

“No,” you lie. 

He glances at you, close enough to kiss, and you grin in delight at him. “What did you think?” 

“Nothing. I wasn’t watching.” 

Aemond leans across the small distance between you and tilts his head. Your noses touch, and the slightest movement closer would let your lips meet. “Do you know what I think?” 

While his one eye closes, yours remain open. He is blurry this close, but in the dim light of the room, his sapphire sparkles. “Sometimes.”

“Do you know what I am thinking at this very moment?” 

It’s difficult to bite back laughter. He makes you so very happy. “No.” 

“I think you like to watch.” 

Too thick is the air between you for you to stand anymore, and you try to kiss him, your mouth aching for the touch of his lips. He pulls back slightly, denying you.

“Aemond,” you protest in a soft whisper. 

“Well?” he asks, as if he doesn’t already know the answer. “Do you?” 

Smiling widely, you rest your head on his shoulder and touch the page in front of them. “Keep reading.” 

“Alright.” He sighs in contentment, and starts at the top of the page. “But it was to her husband the King Gwayne that he had sworn his sword and shield, and his life. No wife would he take, no children would he father, yet to the queen he felt his heart go.” 

You listen as Aemond reads from the book. It is just old stories from a time when legend and history mingled into one, a book as well suited to children as it is maesters. But still; between the pages some truth can be found, and flesh and blood and bone can be seen through the myths. And it all sounds so pretty when Aemond reads it. 

Being so close to him does things to you. As if you are doing nothing more than getting more comfortable, you wriggle under the covers and slip your knee between his thighs. He wears only a soft green tunic to bed, one that rides up easily. His voice catches on the words when you shift against his leg,your hand on his chest. “Keep going,” you whisper. 

He clears his throat and does as you ask.

He’s right, of course. You do like to watch. A long time ago he had shown you how he liked to be touched and you had learned quickly. Now, there is little left that you do not know, but you like to see all the same. Not tonight, though. After the display he put on in the yard for much of the afternoon, you want nothing more than to touch, to feel. 

As he weaves the story of knights and queens and longing loves about their silver heads, your touches dip lower. At first, it is just his stomach you run your palm over. Linen is still between your skin, but his muscles tense at the pressure, and you can feel the dips and ridges along them. Each time his voice falters, you stop. It is encouragement enough, then, to keep going. 

“And it was in the gardens of Ser Emmon’s humble country house that Queen Delena gave herself to him. He gave her a rose as a symbol of their love, and pressed it into her hand. The thorns cut her skin, but he kissed the wounds and at his touch, they healed. Then he took her face into his grasp and kissed her cheeks and her lips, and they swore their love to one another.” 

You run the heel of your palm lower on his stomach and press it against the hard pubic bone. He stutters and his eye closes. He grunts your name.

“Yes?” you ask innocently. Your fingers point down, and just a slight twitch of them allows you to stroke the hair there, to trace the base of his cock. It rests against his thigh, half hard. 

“Do you want to hear the rest of the story?” 

“Yes. Why do you ask?” 

Aemond laughs breathlessly. “Then you’d better stop whilst I can still read.” 

Your fingers form a ‘v’ over the base of his cock and crook slightly to slide along the sides of his balls. “If you stop reading, then I’ll have to stop doing this.” You turn your hand palm-up and glide his cock through your spread fingers. 

A half-laugh comes through his nose. “Alright.” He shifts slightly and the pages rustle on his lap. “It was in that very garden that the queen gave herself entirely to the knight, and in her, he put his bastard child who would one day be called Flowers.” 

You settle comfortably against him again and your forehead rests against his long neck. His thighs spread wider in a silent beg for more, and you smile slightly. There is heat rising in his throat and cheeks and you can feel it against your face. 

How pretty Aemond’s body is. You love how long and lean he is, how easily bruises blossom under his fair skin, how you can see the lines of his veins and tendons in his arms and hands. Such pretty hands. With your forehead against him, you can feel the soft rumble of his voice in your very bones. It makes you shiver, makes your nipples hard. 

When he stumbles over a word, it is satisfying knowing that you made that happen. It’s your gentle hold around his cock that makes him lose focus, your skin against his that makes his stomach tense. Only for a moment do you let him go and although he whines softly through his words, he makes no other protest. You holds your hand up to his mouth and he bites his lip, before licking your palm, your fingers. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, before pushing your hand back under the covers and wrapping it around him again. 

“But the king’s closest companions had already informed him of their suspicions, and Ser Emmon was summoned to the Great Table.” 

A fire burns between your legs. He is hot and heavy in your hand, hard and wide and in his cock, you can feel his heartbeat pulse. His thighs twitch, and you run your foot up and down his calf soothingly. It does not soothe you, though. Every touch makes you want to make him whimper more. Even his voice intoxicates you. 

The pace you set is steady and reliable, and you only pause your ministrations now and again to caress your thumb over his tip. The silver drops that gather there make it smoother to stroke him as you glide it over his length. At your waist, his fingers begin to dig in. 

“And the k-” He bites his lip and sighs hard through his nose. You press your fingers around the base of his cock and move to carefully squeeze his balls. His eye closes, but there is strength in him yet, and after a brief pause, he continues. “And the king at last drew his sword in challenge against his knight, his friend, and demanded honour.” 

You look at the painting on the page in front of them but you don’t really see. It’s impossible to see anything in front of you when Aemond is all around you, his body heaving beneath you, his leg pressing between yours, his hair tickling your face. Utterly consuming is the need to please him, to delight him. You stroke his cock faster now. How lovely he is. How pretty he sounds. Oh, I do so adore him. Every stutter and every stumble is for you. 

“They crossed swords over the Table and- fuck.” 

He turns his head and kisses your forehead, hard. You shiver, and under the blankets you tighten your grip. “They crossed swords over the Table and they fucked?” you ask breathlessly. 

Aemond’s quiet laugh turns into a moan. “No, not that. They, ah- gods!” He forces his eye open but his brow is furrowed in concentration. “And they fought. The king fought for his honour, and the knight f-” he stumbles, breath catching in his throat. “Fou- ah, yes!” 

You bring your knee up between his legs and press it up to where his legs meet. Aemond grinds his hips up and down, his heavy balls sliding against your soft thigh. He turns his head slightly to press his cheek against your forehead. It’s like he can’t get close enough to you, even when you’re lazy like this. 

“They fought?” you encourage.

“Mmph. Yes. They fought. Fuck.” 

“Keep going, and so shall I.” 

“Yes,” he moans. You know he has more self control than this. But there is nothing that makes your soul soar like knowing he can set it aside with you. “The knight fought for his love.” The words are punctuated with heavy gasps that grow more frequent as his breath grows shorter. “The king forbade… he forbade his other knights from in…” He bites his lip at a particularly delicious twist of your wrist. “From interfering. After a long fight, the king disarmed Ser Emmon and his b… his blade… ah, yes. Just like that. His blade was knocked from his hands.” 

“Are you nearly finished?” you ask, making sure your lips are so close to his ear that he will not hear anything else. 

His brow creases again but this time it is in a laugh. “Am I? Or the story?” 

“You,” you breathe, and the word is stretched out. You dart out your tongue to catch along the shell of his ear and when he moans, strained and high, you feel like a queen yourself. 

“So close,” he assures you. 

“Keep going.” 

Nodding frantically, he musters his strength to return to the words. “Ser Emmon fell in front of the king, who… mmph, sweetling. Who demanded that he tell him where the treasonous queen was.” 

She can feel deep within her that he is close. There is something in the way that his whole body tenses, how little beads of sweat gather along his hairline, the twist of bliss in his face, that is so familiar, so exciting. You sit up slightly to get a better view of his face. Yes, that’s better. It’s much easier now to see the little line along his throat that appears when he is tense. There is a thick vein protruding from his forehead now, and it makes you smile. You so love to watch. 

Your hand moves faster, and it is slick with spend and sweat and spit. 

“The knight refused, for he loved the queen more d-dearly than his… his own life. Oh, fuck!” 

His eye closes and it leaves only the sapphire in its socket to wink at you. Fire rages through you at the sight, excitement and adrenaline and love mingled into a potent poison. Let it ruin you, if it means you can have him. 

“Yes, love, don’t stop, I’m-!” 

His face is flecked with starlight when pleasure rips through him. His hands ball into fists and his hips lift off the bed, and he cries out, guttural and low, his voice cracking. You watch, enchanted, and stroke him through it, catching his seed across your hand. Some will have gone on the blanket. Such a waste. 

“Kiss me,” he pleads quietly as he sinks back in the pillows. Below the blanket, his hand finds yours and your fingers weave together and it feels like the centre of the world. 

You smile and keep your eyes open as you kiss him. It is tender now, your lips soft together. Whilst there is still a fire between your legs, it has been tempered for a time. Simply by seeing his release, some part of you has been satisfied. 

Aemond breaks the kiss after a long moment. His eye opens slowly, and he is greeted by your smile. “Thank you.” 

“You don’t need to thank me.” 

“I do,” he whispers, squeezing your hand against his stomach. “I do.” 

Tenderly, you kiss his forehead and stroke his hair back. “You don’t.” 

It is a reflex to lean closer when you kiss him, and within a moment he has leaned so close that you are rolled onto your back with him between your legs now, the book discarded. He pulls at the hem of your yellow sleeping shift, but you stop him. “Wait.” 

His orgasm is still sending waves of bliss through him, and he cocks his head to the side in a silent question. You grin. “The looking glass,” you say in a hushed tone. Close to the door stands a great reflective glass, large enough to see one’s full frame. 

Aemond understands immediately, and scrambles to his feet. Your hands are still clasped and so he pulls you up with him. “Of course. You do so love to watch.”

[togrowoldinv]

First Date

Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader

You pick Wanda up at her home for a date and learn a lot about the woman by the time she goes back inside that night

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, mommy kink (oops), thigh riding, oral (R receiving), Wanda’s first time with a woman

Note: Milf!Wanda, am I right? Y’all enjoy this one!

Wanda Maximoff Masterlist, Main Masterlist

You take a deep breath and knock on Wanda’s front door. You fiddle with the flowers you bought her as you anxiously await for her to open the door.

The woman had agreed to go out with you after you met her in the coffee shop you work at. You weren’t usually one to ask customers out, but you felt drawn to her in some way. And she seemed to have felt it too.

The door opens and there’s a young child standing there.

“Hi,” he says to you. “Who are you?”

“Oh, I’m y/n. Is this Wanda’s house or?” You are asking the question when the woman finally makes her appearance.

“Tommy! What did I tell you about opening her door?” Wanda scolds him lightly.

“Not to do it,” the little boy says, his eyes avoid Wanda’s gaze. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

Mom. That’s not a piece of information you knew about the woman.

“That’s alright, sweetheart. Try to remember, okay?”

“I will!” The boy promises. Wanda kisses his head and he runs off inside the house.

Wanda finally can turn her attention to you.

“Hi y/n,” she says. “Sorry about that.”

“No worries,” you reply. “These are for you.”

You hand her the flowers and she holds them to her heart in awe.

“Come on in and I’ll put these in a vase before we go,” Wanda says.

“I’m assuming that’s your son?” You make small talk as you follow her inside.

“Oh, yes. That’s Tommy. He’s my rambunctious one. Billy is much more calm.”

“Right. Okay, so two kids then?”

“Yes. Twin boys. Is that a dealbreaker?” Wanda asks, her voice only half indicating she might be joking.

“Of course not. I love kids,” you say. She breathes a sigh of relief. “Plus, that means I’m dating a total milf.”

Wanda laughs so hard at that comment that she can barely breathe. You smile at how beautiful she is even when she’s cackling.

“I needed that laugh,” Wanda says as she finally gets her breathing back to normal. “I just need to tell the boys goodbye and I’ll be back, okay?”

“Perfect,” you say.

You give the woman the space to go and tell her sons goodbye. You can’t hear much through the walls but you hear a chorus of I love yous as Wanda leaves the hall and finds you again.

She follows you to your car and you open the door for her. The car ride goes quickly and you’re at the restaurant and seated in record time.

The talk between you and Wanda flows easily and it’s like you’ve known each other for a long time. Dinner is a delight and on any normal date you’d want to take her home that night, but you don’t want to rush things.

Still, you park back in Wanda’s driveway and neither one of you necessarily want this night to end.

“Wanda, I had an amazing time tonight,” you say. You look over at her in the passenger seat. She’s absolutely glowing in the moonlight.

“Me too, y/n.”

Wanda leans in just a few inches closer to you, but she stops.

“You’re going to have to kiss me because I’m too scared to kiss you,” she admits, her eyes gazing into yours.

“You don’t need to be scared, baby. How long has it been?” You ask. She knows what you mean.

“Far too long.”

“Let’s fix that.”

You take Wanda’s face into your hands and kiss her. You put everything you have into the kiss and Wanda melts into a puddle from the feeling. Your hands and your lips and your tongue make Wanda feel like a brand new woman.

“Is it always that good?” She asks once you break for air.

“No ma’am it is not,” you reply.

“I really want you,” Wanda says. She gasps at her own bluntness. “Sorry, I just- that was amazing, but I don’t expect anything else.”

“Wanda, I really like you,” you assure her. “If you want me right now, you can have me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Come here,” you say, moving your seat back and tapping on your lap.

Wanda moves to your lap and her skirt slips further up her legs. Creamy thighs reveal themselves to you.

“Wanda, you’re so beautiful,” you tell her. You run a hand through her hair and she shivers. Pulling her down for a kiss, you’re sure to let your other hand wander over her.

It slips under her shirt and up her abdomen to her chest. Wanda moans into the kiss when you fondle her breast under her shirt.

She pulls away and lets you pull her shirt over her head. You go for her neck this time, kissing and leaving bites that make her let out delicious sounds.

You notice the woman is desperate to relieve the feeling between her legs.

“Wanda, baby, ride my thigh,” you instruct her.

“Are you sure?” She asks.

“Definitely. Let me help,” you say.

You pull her skirt further up her hips to reveal her lacy underwear. You slip your fingers across the wet material and pull them to the side.

Wanda gasps at the sensation of her naked pussy rubbing against your pants for the first time. Once she gets a rhythm, she feels better than she has in years.

“I love seeing you like this, Wanda,” you encourage her. “You’re doing so well.”

“Fuck,” Wanda moans. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah I know it does, mommy,” the word slips out, but the way Wanda has to grip your shirt harder to keep herself from falling over with pleasure tells you that it’s okay. Even that she likes it.

“I’m going to come,” Wanda says, her words mixing with moans of pleasure.

“Come for me, Mommy,” you say.

Wanda comes hard against your thigh. Her legs shake as she leans against you.

“Fuck that was so good,” Wanda says. She grabs your face and kisses you passionately. It almost feels like a thank you kiss.

Wanda smiles at you when she pulls away. You swear you’ve never seen such a beautiful woman.

“Can I- do you need to-“ Wanda stumbles over the words.

“Only if you want to,” you say to her. “I’m more than happy to just please you.”

“No. No, I just haven’t- with a woman before,” Wanda admits.

“Oh, well you just did pretty damn amazing. You’ve got this,” you say.

Wanda chuckles and she situates herself on her knees in front of you.

“May I?” She asks, gesturing to your pants.

“Please,” you say.

Her deft fingers work to pull your pants down your legs with your underwear as well. Wanda hesitates, so you guide her to your center. She licks through your folds slowly, but once she gets comfortable she picks up the pace.

“Just like that Wanda, fuck,” you say as she keeps going. She gets the hang of what makes you feel good quickly.

When she uses her thumb to brush against your clit while her mouth is still at work, you grip her hair tight.

“Are you going to come for Mommy?” Wanda pulls her mouth away just enough to speak.

“Yes ma’am,” you reply.

She grins devilishly and puts her mouth on you again. She’s successful in just a few more minutes.

You ride out your high and Wanda climbs back up into your lap.

“Thank you for tonight,” Wanda says. “I haven’t felt this good in- well maybe ever.”

You kiss her lips softly. A reminder that you really like her.

“I feel good too, babe. Can I see you again?”

“Is tomorrow night too soon?” She asks.

“Tomorrow night sounds perfect.”

Wanda moves back to the passenger seat and you two get dressed again. With one more goodnight kiss Wanda goes inside her house, and you drive home with a smile on your face.

Best first date ever.

[schoenpepper]

Intro: You choose to wear...all of them?!

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, proofread by quillbot, a swear word or three, if you squint it's suggestive, google translated French

A/N: Wow reader, you're quite, er, assertive? It'll be a mess, but it'll be your mess, so I hope you like what you're getting into.

Masterlist

Huh? Are you sure? They'll clash, you know? The jewelry.

Stubborn little human.

You want to make sure that none of your friends are upset. So, instead of making a choice, you decide to make the choice and just wear all of them at the same time! So smart.

You don't feel too smart when everyone's eyes are on you at the ball. Their gazes hurt almost as much as their judging whispers, and you hear a few awful words about you scatter through the venue. You wish they'd understand that you just did it because you care about all your friends, and so you're willing to be the sacrificial lamb and be all their dates. At the same time.

No, I am actually about to throw up, but to be honest, I cannot imagine any other line of thinking in which this scenario would be reasonable.

Malleus is the first to come to you, curiosity in his eyes as he comments on your choice of accessories. "Child of Man, I was under the impression that wearing a gift to this occasion meant you were open to courting the sender." And his words send a shock through you so hard that your expression is downright horrified, your palms are sweaty and shaking, and you seem to feel the jewelry downright burning your skin. Did you just choose the harem ending?

"Oh, ma merveilleuse beauté! You look so wonderful tonight. I would be delighted to have you, even if it does mean sharing."

Oh. You did.

Congratulations?

Rook's words float in your mind, and you shake your head, red in the face. "No, senpai, I thought these were like friendship invitations! No one said anything about them being courting gifts!" Unfortunately for you, before you can act to fix this silly little mistake of yours, the rest of your seniors crowd around you like sharks smelling blood spilled in the water. There's a hand on your shoulder, and you feel a slight relief when you see that it's Trey. He's mature, he's reasonable, and he'll understand your original intentions—his hand slides down to the small of your back as he leans in closer to you. "Is that it, Y/N? I can't say I mind sharing either."

Holy mother of all things holy shit-

"I don't share." Leona growls lowly, meeting Malleus' gaze aggressively.

"Neither do I." Vil has a small frown on his gorgeous face, his arms crossed in displeasure. "But if you want the potato, as I do, you can learn to play nice."

"What is all this commotion about?" Maybe Riddle is your savior! You turn to him with newly rekindled hope that he can take you away from this grave you'd dug for yourself. "If Y/N has chosen all of us, then it is only correct that we begin by drawing up a schedule in which we can split their time equally amongst ourselves."

And your hope is dead once again.

14 boyfriends, huh? Good luck!

Try Again?

[moneypowerglorymiddleofmiami]

To Vex A Viscount (of seas and torment entry)

based on this ask ♡

— regency era au

summary: simply nothing more could be required of a perfect evening when invited to a masquerade with the pleasure of vexing an easily irritable viscount.

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

warnings: none (though please do feel free to inform me if you find any!)

of seas and torment, make do (of seas and torment entry)

⚔°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You thank the gods for the salvation the mask wrapped around your face offers you. It will not do well if the other gossip-mongers see your distaste for the evening's festivities; they'd call you insolent, and you simply couldn't have that if you wished to find a husband.

Truly, you'd prefer readying yourself for a long night of restful slumber than being forced to simper and be delightful in the presence of the ton.

"Lady Jackson." You turn at the sound of your name, the voice all too familiar for you to mistake his identity even with the elaborate mask of golden feathers hiding his features.

"Lord Castellan." You acknowledge the viscount with a pleasant tone, though you were well-aware that the niceties shared between the both of you were merely for show. "Good evening."

"I wasn't expecting your presence tonight." Luke continues, speaking as he moves to stand closer to you. You take a deliberate step away from him, weary of anyone who might get the wrong idea.

"Neither was I." You answer truthfully. "But my mama and brother insisted on our attendance."

He looks down at you in amusement. "I do hope the soiree is to your liking."

"Of course." You nod, taking a sip from the beverage cradled in between your gloved fingers. "Lady Castellan always throws such magnificent balls."

You look for his mother amidst the crowds, her grin wide and welcoming as she conversed with your own.

Luke hums. "It was my idea to make it a masquerade. I hear it's quite fashionable in Italy."

"Ah, that must explain its banality." You twist your mouth. It was definitely a rude response, but Luke, at least once in the years you've known him, has never been offended by your brazen remarks. He took all of them in good humor.

He snorts. "I think it's rather romantic."

"And what do you know of romance, my lord?" You turn to him, eyes glinting in the candlelight as you begin to tease him. "Do enlighten me. You seem to be quite well-versed on the topic now that you've returned from your travels. I assume the continent must have been good to the matters of your heart."

He glances down at you from his peripheral. "It was. Very much, actually."

You raise an eyebrow, an invitation (or provocation) for him to speak more. He doesn't elaborate further.

You turn your attention elsewhere instead, watching as several young ladies are led onto the dance floor by the gentleman. The first few notes of a quadrille hum through the air.

"May I write my name on your dance card?" He asks after a moment, his eyes intently looking at the paper that dangled from a ribbon around your wrist.

You looked up at him, eyes wide in surprise. "Me?"

"Surely, you will not have me dance with Percy?" He responds with pursed lips. His hand rises to pinch your card in between his fingers. He raises his brow for confirmation.

Your eyes narrow instantly. Your tone is near accusatory when you voice your confusion. "Why, may I ask, should you wish to dance with me?"

"Must I need a reason to?" He counters.

"Seeing as we've been at each other's throats throughout the entire season, I would assume so, yes." You nod your head. He was acting out of sorts, and it was terribly bothersome. Ever since he returned from abroad, there has been an evident shift in his attitude, more so in his treatment of you. "I believe I am owed an explanation."

You clear your throat, adding: "Perhaps you've taken a sip too many of your whiskey."

"Shall I breathe in your face to prove my sobriety?" Luke remarks dryly. "Indulge me for old times' sake. We learned to dance together, after all."

Memories of a sweltering july tucked in your family's country home came in a vague recollection— guests invited over to stay for a short retreat, taking daily swims in the bay, relaxing underneath a canopy of trees, munching on more sweets tinted blue than you could ever consume again, and a disgruntled gentleman teaching (or at least attempting to) you and Luke the beginning sequences of a routine.

He stands with an arm against his hip, his gaze neutral but his fidgeting made you aware of his impatience. You squinted your eyes as if in thought, aiming to irk him further.

"Vexing woman," He mutters underneath his breath as he grabs the drinking glass from your hold and gingerly places it on top of a cabinet. He takes your hand in his and leads you to the dancefloor just as a waltz is announced.

"Another gentleman's name could have been written on my card." You chastise him. He stretches your clasped hands to the side, his other hand moving to rest at your waist. Though you've not danced with him in a long time, your other hand immediately lays on his shoulder. Both of your feet move in tandem, limbs moving gracefully without much thought.

"I highly doubt it. You've been keeping to yourself the entire evening." He sniffs to dismiss your point. "I must admit, I found it difficult to discern where you ended and the wallpaper began."

You step on his foot. He groans. You smile.

He guides you through practiced circles around the dance floor, never missing a step or beat. His eyes bore into yours, a deep brown that reminded you of chocolate ganache and dancing flames, of warm summers and breezy evenings, of playful goading and a mutual respect, of innocence and an imperciptible heat you've not paid any mind too up until his return.

"You look very lovely." He says abruptly, soft like a whisper; almost as if he had no intention of speaking the thought aloud.

"What?" You reply in disbelief.

"Unfortunate that such a pretty face should belong to a woman with such faulty hearing." He sighs mockingly, murmuring under his breath but loud enough for you to hear. You attempt to step on his foot again, but he moves just in time with an omniscient grin. He repeats his words with more clarity. "I said you look very lovely."

"I..." You struggle for a response. You avert your gaze, blushing. "Thank you."

The music slowly comes to an end and as you separate to bow, he seizes your hand once more. He places a gentle kiss on the back of your glove before turning your palm. His eyes lock on yours as he bends down to kiss your wrist, his lips meeting your pulse. You feel your heartbeat become more erratic with each moment his gaze lingers.

"Well done, sister." Percy claps his hands from behind you. Luke stands straighter, though his lotions are more fluid. "This is the first time I've seen you dance without tripping on your own feet."

"Oh, shut up." You huff, pushing him back into the crowd. Luke follows behind you with a chuckle, his fingers dancing with the ribbon dangling at the back of your frock.

taglist: @ryujinraven (SORRY POOKIE IT SLIPPED MY MIND)

[strwbmei]

i can't get kafka off the brain, she's so attractive 😭 she'd be such a huge brat, testing your patience all the time with that smug grin. she deserves to get tied up, gagged, spanked, humiliated and fucked until she's crying and promising to be good 💞 she's 100% a masochist

-🌧️

I am so sorry. This was only supposed to be a short, 2-4 paragraph thirst, but then it turned into pure filth 😭😭😭 Also a bit extreme compared to other things I've written, so it might not be to most people's tastes

nsfw utc (fem reader with strap on, bondage, dom/sub dynamics, use of toys, spanking, dacriphilia, not proofread)

She'd probably rile you up on purpose just for that. There's nothing she wants more than to just lay there and get fucked senselessly until she inevitably ruins the sheets, and she knows you're perfectly willing to accommodate her. Still, getting what she wants so easily would be so boring, wouldn't it? It's not fun if you aren't seething with a kind of irritation only Kafka could make you feel and if she still has some form of control of her body.

It'd start with you tying Kafka up, a bullet vibrator pressed onto her clit. The way her moans sound through the gag is delightful; they show how much of a whore she is for you. You watch her with disinterest and indifference in her eyes, fully clothed as opposed to how the only things Kafka is wearing are a ball gag and fancy ropes of silk the color of your eyes (something she insisted on) digging into her curves and currently unblemished skin.

It's humiliating, really, being forced to feel all vulnerable and owned—but both of you know just how much she loves that. Maybe if you're in a good mood, you'll even let her cum once or twice tonight. Kafka doubts that, though, especially with how bratty she's been acting. Your patience has its limits, and Kafka wants nothing more than to push you over the very brink of it. She starts begging, vulgar and wanton; almost mocking in its tone.

Kafka thinks you've finally given in when you remove the vibrator from her puffy clit. She prides herself in her beauty, after all. No one would be able to resist her "charms" for long... right? Wrong. Instead, you push her down, knees bent so her face is pressed into the mattress while her hips are up in the air. When you start spanking her ass, she begs for the bullet vibrator again. Her abused cunt just feels so empty, fluttering around nothing as your hand leaves yet another mark on her ass. She's already so overstimulated, and you've barely even started.

The woman endures, locks of hair the color of her most favored wine cascading along her back as each moan becomes more strained than the last. Anticipation fills her lust-addled head as she feels the tip of your length rubbing against her folds. You relish in the way her back arches as you finally insert the strap-on inside her neglected cunt, not to mention the drawn-out moan she lets out. God, you're sure her facial expression right now is downright sinful—you can tell by how she's clawing at the bedsheets and eagerly moving her hips to chase yours.

But you don't move.

Why would you? Did Kafka think you'd be nice to her after all that she's done? Her whines are barely audible through the ball gag, but you hear her mention something about "how mean you always are to her." Funny. You've been patient with all of her bullshit for as long as you've remembered, yet now you're the mean one. You were planning to be a bit lenient since you felt bad for her, but she can wave goodbye to any chance of being able to use either her voice or her legs for the next few days.

"Move," you command her. "Don't you think it's time you stopped relying on me to get you off?" Kafka whimpers at your words, looking back at you with glossy eyes. You can't help but snicker in response. It's rare to see her so desperate and needy to be filled. Maybe you should do this more often? She never really learns her lesson, after all. Realizing you weren't gonna budge on your decision, she rocks her hips as much as she can with her limited range of movement. She can feel each vein and bump of the fake toy rubbing against her walls, but it just isn't enough.

It's not rough enough. Not fast enough. Not deep enough. Nowhere close to being enough, but Kafka submits to the humiliation nonetheless. She can't bring herself to care anymore, too focused on making sure to savor each and every bit of pleasure she's feeling. You look at how fervently she's fucking herself on the fake cock, and think of how you've each turned the other into fully fledged perverts. Kafka wasn't this much of a masochist before she ended up in your bed. Or was it hers? You don't remember.

She never understood the people who liked getting hurt. Kafka used to find the marks that ropes left on her skin itchy and unbearable, but now she loves reliving the memories of lust and passion whenever she sees them. She wears them with pride. You, on the other hand—have never felt like more of a degenerate. You catch yourself wanting to break her; to ruin her for anybody else. You desire to know her body in a way completely exclusive to you. You want to own her; mind, body, and soul.

The past few minutes are a blur. Without realizing, you've been fucking Kafka senseless as she sobs from the overstimulation. The smell of sex fills the air as does the sound of your hips colliding with the fat of her ass. You thrust as quickly as you can, much to the other woman's pleasure, but the tightness of her pussy makes it more difficult than it usually is. You've been holding her over the brink for a while now—you're not sure how long exactly, but enough for her legs to be shaking and for her knees to give out. If not for your hands settling themselves on her waist, she would've toppled over. Kafka is powerless, and she loves it.

When you see her cum form a white ring on the base of your strap, you know you've found another excuse to fuck her dumb, and you plan on making full use of it.

[aventurineswife]

aventurine x deaf/foxian reader please i am KNEELING

“Love doesn’t need words; it only needs understanding”

Summary: In the bustling casino lights, Aventurine encounters you, a deaf Foxian who sees beyond his charming, risk-taking facade. Through unspoken gestures and shared glances, you connect, forming a bond in a rare, vulnerable moment under the stars.

Tags: Fluff, Aventurine x Reader, Deaf!Foxian!Reader, Slow Burn, Casino Setting, Silent Communication, Vulnerability, Flirty Banter, Quiet Moments, Emotional Connection

A/N: I decided to do both in one, so enjoy!! 🤭💖 Also bestie you can stand up now, no need to kneel anymore ahaha💀

The bustling lights of the casino flashed in tandem with the rhythm of the music, creating a surreal, mesmerizing atmosphere. But for you, it was the silence — a quiet, familiar presence that hummed just beneath the glittering surface. Being a Foxian, your keen senses always picked up the energy of spaces and people, even if you couldn't hear their sounds. And tonight, your senses were drawn to one particular figure across the room.

Aventurine, with his blond hair, striking eyes, and an easy, confident smile, was magnetic. He had a way of exuding charm that made everyone take notice, and his presence had captivated you from the moment he entered the room. The Senior Manager of the Strategic Investment Department at the IPC, one of the Ten Stonehearts… he was someone you’d heard much about, but the reality was far more intense.

You adjusted your earpiece translator, grateful for the clear view of Aventurine as he approached. Your heart skipped as he caught your eye and smiled, striding toward you with the unhurried ease of someone who knew exactly what he wanted.

The first time he spoke, he leaned in close, allowing you to read his lips.

"Good evening. May I have this game with you?"

Your fingers twitched with anticipation, and you gave a playful, if shy, nod. Aventurine’s fingers brushed yours as he led you to one of the card tables, and you couldn’t help but admire the striking details of his attire. His dark coat, adorned with a roulette wheel on the back, and the feather earring that gleamed beneath the casino lights — everything about him felt carefully chosen, deliberately layered to create an aura of mystery.

With smooth confidence, Aventurine placed a set of cards in your hand. His gaze held a subtle spark of challenge, as if he was daring you to guess his next move. But even with no sound between you, communication flowed effortlessly; you’d learned that words weren't always necessary when there was a deeper connection, one that you’d felt between you two since the day you’d met.

As you both played, Aventurine leaned in from time to time, lips mouthing words in a way that felt just for you. He'd mouth something teasing, raising an eyebrow as if daring you to call his bluff. Though he knew you couldn’t hear his tone, his expressions spoke volumes. Your tail(s) flicked with excitement as you tried to keep up, savoring his slight smirks and delighted looks whenever you managed to surprise him.

"Are you a gambling person, fox?" he mouthed, smiling as he watched you process the question.

You tapped a card thoughtfully, glancing up with a gleam in your eyes, and mouthed back, “Only with people worth the risk.”

Aventurine’s expression softened, a rare vulnerability appearing on his face for just a moment. It was in these brief exchanges that you saw a glimpse of the real Aventurine, the man behind the polished smile and the meticulous facade. His fingers brushed over yours, lingering, a silent thank-you for seeing him — really seeing him.

As the night went on, Aventurine led you out onto the casino’s balcony. The air was crisp, and the stars glimmered overhead, a quiet contrast to the frenetic energy inside. You both leaned on the railing, side by side, as you pulled out your comm device. You typed a message, one you were nervous to ask, and showed it to him.

Do you ever feel lonely in your world of high stakes and strategy?

Aventurine looked at the words thoughtfully, the soft light casting shadows across his face. For a moment, he seemed taken aback, as though you’d asked the one question no one ever dared. But then his eyes softened, and he nodded slowly.

“Yes,” he mouthed. “But not tonight.”

You held his gaze, understanding the unspoken weight in his response. Aventurine turned to you, reaching out to gently brush his fingers over the small fox pendant that hung around your neck.

Then, he mouthed something, a simple phrase that made your heart race: You’re my good luck charm.

You didn’t need sound to know he meant it. His fingers intertwined with yours as you felt an unspoken promise in the way he held your hand, grounding you both in a moment of rare honesty.

For Aventurine, life was a game of endless risks. But here, under the starlit sky with you by his side, he found something he never could have expected — a quiet haven from the high-stakes world he’d built around himself.

[0what-a-guy0]

Are you Sure?- Harvey x Reader (tried to keep it gender neutral) (also on AO3)

You couldn’t help but to think yourself lucky. You watched through the window of the mayor's truck as trees whizzed past. 

“I am so happy you asked me to help you out hun.” Marnie chirped from behind the wheel. Her hair was braided, rather roughly as Jas had only recently started learning how to make the intricate twists. 

You sat, butterflies in your stomach as she drove you both into town. “I really appreciate you taking me..” You chuckled, placing one hand to your face. The older woman leaned over and patted one hand to your knee. “I’m just so thrilled you’re going to ask him!” Your stomach flipped as she spoke. All sorts of uncertainties going through your mind as she spoke. 

“I just know the good doctor will be so tickled.” She giggled giving your knee a squeeze. The pendant sat at home in a chest, you had been so confident when you bought it but as time went on you were beginning to lose your nerve. You heard Marnie laugh, “Don’t worry dearie, he’ll say yes.” She takes your hand in hers, giving it a squeeze, 

The shops in pelican town have enough for day to day needs, and you loved Emily, but for tonight you had wanted something that made you look like the partner of a well respected doctor. 

You wanted something refined, dignified, while modest. You tug at your overalls, feeling as nerves settle in. The shop was nice. Nice dark wood floors, tall windows, stocked with clothes that could make anyone look like a Harvard graduate. 

“Hello, can I help you?” A woman approached, hands clasped behind her back, Marnie beamed at her, stepping between you both, a bounce in her step, “This one is popping the question!” She squealed. Your face flushed as the woman looked between you both. Her eyes went wide and mouth was shaped like an ‘o’. “Do you need an outfit then?” You nod your head fiddling with your hands. “Then come this way.”

You must have tried on outfits for hours in the one store alone. After what felt like outfit one-thousand, Marnie had decided to try another store. Then another. Then another. 

It wasn’t until the final store you had found something you felt worked. Marnie clapped her hands when you stepped out of the dressing room. She squealed in delight as you spun around in the look. “Oh dear he’ll be just smitten!” She said pushing  you back into the stall. “Now get out of it so we can pay for it!”  

On your way back into town the sun had already set. Stars peered down at you both as Marnie pulled into the farm. “Now remember to be careful washing the top darling!” She called as you climbed out of the passenger seat. You waved as she drove back. 

Once inside the house you placed the bag on your kitchen table laying out each piece of the outfit. You looked it over once more satisfied with each detail. You began to walk away. You peered over your shoulder again. Slowly making your way back to the set. You looked it over once more. Then again. 

What were you thinking? This outfit, as nice as it was, was nothing like you. It very much suited Harvey’s aesthetic, but- 

No. You had already bought the outfit. You had already made the plans. Everything had lined up too perfectly. 

Both you and Harvey were incredibly busy people, as the town’s only doctor, there was always someone in need of his attention. Yours was always divided between crops, animals, and other adventures. Since starting a relationship you hadn’t gone into the mines nearly as often as you once had. You still made the occasional venture there when a request was made by Clint or Marlon, but for the most part you had been fairly good about keeping out of trouble. 

That wasn’t to say that you weren’t still incredibly busy. The farm, the town and the mayor made sure of that (less so now that the community center had been completed). Still you and Harvey had agreed quality time with one another was incredibly important. So every Friday night every two weeks you’d have a date night. You’d been good about holding yourselves to that for the better part of two years. It wasn’t perfect. Sometimes you couldn’t make it, sometimes he couldn’t make it. Oftentimes your dates were interrupted by something or someone. 

There were nights however, when you were left alone with each other. 

Nights when you sat across the table from the doctor. Conversation a murmur in the quiet of night. Candles lighting his features. A meal you had cooked him steaming on the table. His skin flushed and curly hair a mess. Those nights when, unintentionally, you moved your chairs from across the table to next to one another when you would lean against him and his arm would wrap around you. His hand resting at your hip fingers splayed gently over your hip holding you to him like if he didn’t you would leave. 

You didn’t know just how right you were in that assessment. 

That his firm hold was grounding for you both. That when you were so close, he felt like he could finally rest. Those loud busy days that left him spinning became quiet, became slow, when he was with you. The smell of your shampoo when he laid his head over yours, the way you fit so perfectly into the crook of his neck, the way your sighs filled the room brought him a sense of peace that he craved like a man starved. He held you not just to be in your company, but to soak himself in it, afraid to let you go and return to a life without you. 

For now you would pace your kitchen in anguish the Thursday night before, going in circles. You moved over to the small chest on your counter. Opening the capsule, fingers brushing over the shell as you took a deep breath. This was getting you nowhere. The only thing that would bring you any peace was asking him. 

“How was your trip into town?”. 

You peaked into the laundry room, the pieces of your outfit spinning in the washing machine. “It went well!” You responded proud of the way you were able to keep your nerves from showing in your voice. The silence was long, it wasn’t often that silence with Harvey was uncomfortable, right now however, it stretched out, it smothered you. “Did you get anything?” He asked after a moment, there were rustling sounds as his voice came closer. 

‘It’s a surprise?” You said sitting on your bed leaning back. His chuckle resonated through your entire body. Low, warm, comforting. “A good one right?” 

“I’d hope so.”

The next morning you sprung right up at…

FIVE AM?? 

You groaned pulling the covers over yourself trying in vain to squeeze that last hour of sleep in. You rolled back over at five thirty deciding to just get an early start. 

Chores which normally took hours only took a single hour this morning. You stared at the field in disbelief. There was no way you had moved through it all that quickly…

You went back through, double checking everything as you did. You flopped back into a chair at your kitchen table somewhat dumbfounded. Rolling your shoulders you decide to cook breakfast, which you often skipped in favor of work. 

You were mid bite of an egg when your phone rang. 

“Morning Ma-”

“Tell ‘em we are gonna be there at 1 to help them get ready!” You heard Haley’s voice ring out on the other end. You quirked a brow. Maru sighed, “we will-”

“I heard her.” You chuckle glancing at the clock on your wall. It was only nine. “Maru..” You sigh through the phone. Her affirmative hum from the other side pushes you to keep going, “Can you be here a little earlier?” Your voice sounds more broken than you intended for it too. There was a pause over the phone. 

“What time?”

You gathered flowers from your fields waiting for the two girls to arrive. A basket of dandelions and daffodils in your hand. It was almost overflowing with all the things you foraged. 

You could hear them before you saw them, “I’m just saying!” Haley laughed, hands raised defensively as they made their way onto the property.  They looked over to you, Maru smiled one hand raised in greeting while Haley’s arm raised in the air waving back and forth. 

When you first came to town the two seemed an unlikely pair, you figured opposites attract. They had done a world of good for one another. It was fun to see the way they worked. Haley would watch Maru work, asking questions left and right as the tech genius tinkered with her machines, happy to answer any questions thrown her way. 

“Ok so..” The blonde said, stretching her arms across your table. You turned towards her humming as you poured yourself a cup of tea. “Can we see it?” She asked, grin splitting her cheeks. 

Your heart stuttered for a minute. You clasp the box gently showing the two women the pendant. Haley’s eyes grew wide as she looked at it. Maru nodded approvingly. “He’ll say yes.” The scientist said. You groaned, “Everyone is saying that but how do you know that..” Maru laughed two hands settling on each of your shoulders. 

“Trust me.”

You stared at your reflection. You had to admit the both of them had done good work. You came back into your room, Maru held up your outfit, head tilted. “This looks like..” she trailed. 

“Like Harvey.” Haley said, mirroring Maru. You felt your stomach flip once again. That had been the goal. Right?

You thought it over staring at the clinic door, pendant (and a few other gifts) tucked into your bag. Harvey never made you wait long. You checked your phone’s clock, 5:59. You were here a minute early. That was ok. That was normal. Considerate, even. 

You might throw up. 

The clinic’s door swung open. You craned your neck to see him. His curly hair was tamed only minutely by a little gel. His regular suit was replaced with a forest green jacket over a black turtleneck. He paired it with dark gray slacks and a black leather belt. His regular frames still sat on his nose. You felt a blush rise up your neck to your cheeks. He looked at you surprised.

“Is that new?” He asked, gesturing to your outfit. You nod, turning from side to side. “Yeah! Uh, surprise?” You chuckle nervously. He cups the back of your head pulling you to him as he places a soft kiss to the crown of your head. “You look nice.” 

The saloon is almost empty when you take your seat. There was a booth in the corner that had been dubbed ‘your booth’ by other members of the town. Gus had even left a candle for you both. When Harvey returned from the jukebox Gus brought over your meals, extra carefully he sat down your bowl of parsnip soup and Harvey’s plate of vegetables. 

“Harvey dear.” He looked up from his meal to look at you, “I’m afraid there are rumors circulating.” he tilted his head, mouth full of food, “everyone is starting to think I’m dating a rabbit.” He rolled his eyes, swallowing the food. “Har.. har..” 

“Maybe..” You sipped on the soup as he responded, “maybe I just want to live a little longer.. Have more time with you.” You splutter just a little in surprise. Soup dribbling down your chin. You grab at a napkin swiping at your face. 

“Was it that bad?” He asks, laughing slightly. “No No!” You exclaim choking on the soup, “it was sweet, very sweet!” You glance down, your shirt was covered in little chunks of vegetables. You groan dejected as Harvey laughs. 

He links his arm with yours as you leave the saloon, guiding you back to his apartment. The space is cozy and warm, filled with his personality, “Did you have any new models?” You ask settling your bag onto the table closest to the door. 

“Not recently. I’ve been saving money..” he responds. He blushes ever so slightly coughing into his fist when you both make eye contact. “Is everything ok at the clinic?” You ask and he nods slowly. “Yes, of course, you just never can be too careful.” His back was turned to you, something in his hands.

Harvey always acted a little strange but now? It made your stomach twist. “Alright…”

You looked over to your bag, hopping just a little on your way to it, “I brought you a gift.” 

He turns back to you sliding his hands into his pockets. You pull the bottle of wine from your bag, followed by the bag of leeks and spring onions. He took both chuckling, when he realized what was in the bag, “I thought you didn’t like that I was eating so many vegetables.” You shrug, “I guess it does keep me in business.” 

He places the bag and wine on the table behind you, leaning down, pressing a kiss to your lips. You smile, hands cupping his cheek. His hands rest at your waist. Innocent pecks sweet presses, harder and harder to maintain as you both smile. Your hands tangle into his curls twining in them as the rumble in his chest reverberates through you. He leans further and you place a hand to the table trying to steady yourself. 

Your palm brushes against your bag which slides to the floor. 

You freeze when you hear an audible crunch. He pulls back from you, “What was that?”

You can already feel the sting in your eyes, you move to the bag digging through the contents hoping against all hope…

There in the bottom were the shattered remains of the shell. You don’t even realize that tears are rolling down your face as you gather the pieces in your hands. Harvey rushes to your side on his knees before you can register that he was there. 

You turn to face him, lip wobbling, “I’m sorry..” You squeak, extending the shards to him. He looks at your palm lips parted before his eyes search yours.

You crumble then into him. He grabs you wrapping his arms around you, “I wanted to surprise you tonight but, then I spilled food all over the outfit I’d bought just for this...then broke the pendant-” He shushes you pulling back to look you in your eyes, “The clothes don’t matter to me. I would have said yes if you came in your overalls.” You wipe your eyes furiously, “Now there is nothing to say yes too!” You cry squeezing your eyes together.

“I wouldn’t say that..” He mutters. 

“But Harvey it’s bro-” Your voice dies out as he fishes through his pocket. A blue pendant and chain dangling from his hand. 

“I guess we had similar plans..” He chuckles bashfully. 

Looking back on it you consider killing Maru for not telling you why everyone in town would be so certain Harvey would say yes.

But when you think about the way he held you whispering, “Will you marry me?” As he wiped tears from your cheeks, you realize that maybe it had been perfect in a way that no perfect plan could compete with.

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

-request

Because of Childe’s birthday recently I had a thought, would Legacy have had the same birthday as Childe? Would Legacy know what a birthday is? What about decorating, would Legacy help with decorating? I’m just imagining balloons and glitter everywhere at this point, and probably other shiny things

this year's birthday art was the best thing ever, i am humbly asking for Hoyoverse to give us Foul Legacy birthday art

~ * ~ Foul Legacy's Birthday HCs

Foul Legacy x Reader Genre: Fluff Pronouns: Gender Neutral Warnings: None

~ * ~

-Foul Legacy doesn’t actually know when his birthday is!! He was more focused on survival than celebration before Childe- Ajax, then- tumbled into the Abyss -It’s only after he ascends to the surface of Teyvat clinging to a mortal’s mind does he learn what birthdays are -He doesn’t really understand at first. Isn’t everyone born? Legacy doesn’t see the point in celebrating something that’s natural and normal -Or, rather, he doesn’t see the need to celebrate HIS birthday. It’s only when Ajax’s first birthday with him rolls around that it sinks in. Ajax is alive and here, Legacy is HAPPY that Ajax was born -There’s a burst of excited, overwhelmed chirps and chitters in the back of Ajax’s head, and he has to hold back laughter as Legacy essentially scrambles around his brain happily -Even so, he still never celebrated his own birthday. He was content just watching his host receive his yearly congratulations; as Childe, Tartaglia, and Ajax -It’s you who decides to finally give him his own little celebration, just a day after Ajax’s. The Harbinger is delighted at the idea, an enormous grin spreading across his face when you ask him to help -Legacy can vaguely sense his thoughts and eagerness, but they’re frustratingly locked away as Childe sometimes does. He can almost SEE his smug grin in his head, letting out an irritated huff -You and Childe spend the whole day preparing- well, YOU do, he helps as much as he can before he’s dragged off to work by his sheepish subordinates even on the weekend, laughing and waving all the while -There are streamers and sparkling ornaments and tiny stars everywhere- no balloons. They terrify the both of you when they pop, and Foul Legacy has claws made to pierce the toughest hides. As something extra special you gather some shiny stones from your rock shelf and place them here and there, chunks of glittering colorful inedible candy -You’re just done setting up when the door opens again, the sun nearly below the horizon in an array of bright reds, oranges, and purples. There’s a crackling static sound as Childe allows Foul Legacy to take control, a pair of crimson horns peeking inside with a curious trill -He lets out a yelp of surprise at the new decorations; you spread your hands with a smile and a singsong “Surprise!” like a mischievous magician, and Legacy’s single crystalline eye goes wide with awe -In less than two seconds you’re suddenly scooped off the floor, his head bumping against yours as he nuzzles and purrs, overjoyed and wings aflutter. Tonight is for him? Just for him? And Ajax doesn’t mind at all? You laugh, smooching his masked cheek with a nod, and Legacy is beside himself with delight -He LOVES sweet treats, especially when you let him taste test something new you tried making, so of course you had to whip up a cake for him to munch on. Although at the moment he seems more engrossed in nibbling and licking your cheek. Eventually you'll get him to take a bite of the pastry, and are met with satisfied coos and a rumble so strong it makes you physically vibrate -All he really needs and wants to have an amazing day is to be near you, so he nudges you over to the couch and promptly snuggles against you, his head pressed into your lap and watching you adoringly. There’s a streamer or two tangled in his horns and claws, the very tip of his tongue sticking out from his fanged maw

-You show Legacy your rock collection. He’s seen it before, but he loves seeing it again and again and hearing you talk about each stone. The purple amethyst from Inazuma is his now, as a little gift, and displayed proudly in his blanket nest room, right next to the tiny glass narwhal you got Ajax. Legacy is extremely careful, they’d both be safest in there -Speaking of blankets, you spent all week making a new, thick quilt for him to bundle himself into, all embroidered with little constellations and whales. His eye glows happily when you present it to him, immediately attempting to crawl underneath it with a muffled chitter of delight -He gently bumps your cheek when you put on some music to play, shaking out his lilac fluff and holding out a hand for you to take, to dance with him. There’s some distant memory of how Ajax would dance at home, and neither of you are well coordinated enough to not end up in a pile on the floor, overcome with beautiful and grumbling laughter

-Playfully you stick a few star-shaped stickers on Legacy’s face, and ponder- if he wore a party hat, would he wear one between his horns or two on top of his horns? You’ll have to ask him next year, when you can find or make decent little hats for the both of you, just like you’ll ask if he wants to help with the decorating, too. This year was a surprise, but you can bet on the Adepti that you’ll be doing it every year afterwards -He shifts in your lap, a yawn pulled from his mouth and showing all his sharp teeth like a cat as he rumbles and croons tiredly, smushing his face against your legs. You put in the effort to celebrate, to make him feel as special as you think he is, and that makes today the perfect birthday

-It’s actually better that you didn’t celebrate it on the same day as Ajax’s birthday- you’re very particular in how you planned everything, not wanting either of your two beloveds to get overshadowed by the other -Foul Legacy still doesn’t know what day he was actually born, and never will. But for all he cares, his real birthday is the day you decided to celebrate him in his entirety

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 45

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words : 6k

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Thursday, February 4th; 9:30 AM - Parking.

Lucy revved her car up to the entrance where my mother was waiting for us. She was talking to the elderly lady at the reception, someone I’ve always liked. One of the few here, actually.

"Move to the back."

"What? Why?"

"You’re not seriously going to let your mother sit in the back, are you?"

The back door opened at the same time. Before I had a chance to react, my mother climbed onto the seat and closed the door.

"This is quite a car you have!"

"Thanks," she smiled proudly. "But you don’t have to sit in the back. Ona will give you her seat."

"Oh no! I’m perfectly fine here. And for the love of God, stop being so formal with me! It makes me feel ten years older."

I held back a laugh as I saw Lucy's expression. She definitely wasn’t expecting that response, unlike me. My mother has always been very friendly with my friends, even when we’re not on the best terms. Lucy gave up the battle and resumed driving through the streets of Manchester. On the way, she suggested we take a stroll down a pedestrian street, which seemed to delight my mother. I was pleased as well since I hadn’t had a chance to visit it yet.

"So... How long have you been doing this job?" my mother asked.

"This is my fourth year," Lucy replied. "I was trained for a year. I became independent quickly."

"Is this what you’ve always wanted to do?"

"Oh no," she chuckled. "It’s just a transitional job. My best friend and I are working on a project. We plan to start our own business."

The news caught me off guard, and I had a hard time hiding my surprise. She had never mentioned this to me before. Starting a business is a big deal. It takes a lot of motivation, but I’m not worried about Lucy in that regard.

"In what field?" my mother continued.

"Sports," she smiled. "We’re planning to open a gym with training programs and classes," Lucy explained. "Everything’s starting to come together... If all goes well, this will be my last year at Camp Wiegman."

"What!? Seriously?" I exclaimed, unable to hold back.

Silence fell after my unexpected reaction. It was already a lot to learn about her project, but finding out that this would be her last year? It was a complete shock. Lucy glanced at me briefly with a small smile.

"Sorry for breaking the news this way. We were struggling with the bank, but I just found out a few days ago that our funds to start the business have been released. So, it’s recent news."

"Hum..."

"Oh, don’t look so down. You know what you need to do now."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you have no choice but to get your diploma this year. I want us to leave this school together."

"Of course... Things aren’t looking too good right now, though," I muttered.

"Defeatist. Just because you started this second semester off poorly doesn’t mean you won’t get your diploma. I’m going to make you work, just watch. We’ll even start tonight," she announced, making me groan.

"Seriously?" I complained. "Oh crap, speaking of studying! I had exams today and tomorrow!" I realized. "What am I going to do!? Do you think they’ll let me make them up?"

"Of course," she rolled her eyes. "That’s good news. We can study the subjects together this weekend."

What did she just say? Judging by the way she stiffened, she seemed to realize her big mistake. There’s no way we’re spending weekends together. She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye, making me uncomfortable. I noticed her hands tightening on the steering wheel as my mother questioned us.

"This weekend?"

"Wiegman requires me to stay at school when Ona is there," Lucy replied instinctively.

I released the breath I had been holding until then. I had forgotten that Lucy knew how to get out of awkward situations. The best part is, she does it without lying. I immediately backed her up by continuing:

"Bronze knows I struggle with some subjects, so she sometimes keeps me at school to work on my courses together," I said, fully aware that Lucy keeps me without official permission.

"Is that why you don’t come home as often?" my mother asked. "Joan keeps asking about you."

Joan... Oh my God, I’ve completely forgotten about him these past few days! I was so obsessed with my problems that I didn’t even think about my little brother. I felt a wave of regret. I sighed, running my hand through my hair.

"I’ll call him as soon as I can... How is he?"

"He’s fine."

"And the truth?"

I saw surprise in her eyes through the rearview mirror. As if a simple "he’s fine" would satisfy me. I hadn’t checked in on my brother for a month. The least I could do was ask now. Especially since he’s probably been feeling down, not having seen me for a while.

"He’s been having a lot of tantrums since you’ve been gone, and he sleeps in your bed a lot... he misses you terribly. You should come back to Barcelona sometime. This weekend, for example. We’re going away for the weekend with Marcus. You’ll have the house to yourself."

"When exactly are you leaving...?"

"You won’t see me if that’s your question. We’re leaving Friday afternoon and returning Sunday evening."

A small smile crept onto my lips. I discreetly glanced at Lucy, who had the same reaction as me. She must know what I’m thinking. I haven’t set foot in Barcelona for a month since she forbade me because of Feli. It’s about time I went back, and if she can come with me, that would be just perfect. It’s not an opportunity that will come up often.

"It’s not up to me to decide that kind of thing," I simply replied. "As I just told you, Bronze has the final say on my outings. We’ll have to discuss it first."

"We’ll talk about it when we get back," Lucy confirmed. "For now, wipe that silly smile off your face. I haven’t said yes yet. I just told you that you need to study."

"Oh come on! Think about my brother," I said, pulling an adorable pout.

"Playing the puppy dog, really Ona? You should know that’s not going to make me soften up."

I groaned, crossing my arms. She hasn’t said yes, but she hasn’t said no either. So, I still have hope. If it was a no, she would have already said so. Or maybe she’s uncomfortable with my mother’s presence and doesn’t dare say it. That’s one possibility. I can tell she’s not as comfortable as usual.

"Stop it," she growled.

"Stop what? I’m not doing anything."

"Yes, you are. You’re looking at me. It’s distracting me."

I hadn’t even realized it. To annoy her, I kept doing it while leaning against the car door. She furrowed her brow but didn’t take her eyes off the road. I smiled at the sight. Lucy is such a beautiful young woman. I’m lucky to have her. We finally arrived at a red light near downtown, where she took the opportunity to push down on my knee that I had lifted up.

- "Sorry," I mumbled, feeling sheepish.

She sighed softly, engaging the handbrake and shifting into neutral. The traffic lights here always take a while. I’m starting to know my way around this city, having come here so often. She turned slightly to look at me.

- "Just because you're banged up doesn’t mean you’re getting special treatment."

- "Oh, I know that, don’t worry about it, Commander!"

She rolled her eyes dramatically. It's crazy how much I enjoy provoking her. She seems to hate that nickname even more than before. Good to know if I want to tease her. I suppressed my smile at the thought, not wanting to provoke her further.

- "Sorry, I can’t help it."

- "Hmm."

She settled back into her seat as it was time to drive again. I did the same, glancing into the rearview mirror. Bad idea, as I caught my mom’s eyes staring at me with a strange expression. I pretended not to notice and focused on the suddenly heavy traffic.

- "Where exactly are we going?" I asked.

- "To the pedestrian zone downtown. It’s nice to see. There are also some good restaurants if you’re interested."

- "We trust you completely," my mom replied.

Lucy managed to get us out of the traffic jams thanks to her knowledge of the side streets. I should memorize them one day if I plan to live here. Then again, with my sense of direction, I’d probably still get lost. Lucy finally parked in a spot that wasn’t too crowded or too far from where we were headed. I took a deep breath before getting out. Here goes my first mother-daughter moment in ages.

Thursday, February 4th; 12:30 PM - Restaurant.

This morning was full of surprises. I’m still struggling to process it all. Just yesterday, I was on bad terms with both my mom and Lucy, and now, here I am, sitting with them around a table. I expected the morning to be a disaster, but against all odds, it went smoothly. No one brought up any sensitive topics, which was for the best. Even so, it was exhausting. I could have collapsed on the table when we arrived, but I restrained myself to avoid Lucy’s reprimands. For some reason, she kept putting me in my place in front of my mom. I guess she just wanted to assert her role, but her reactions were often over the top.

In any case, I’m glad it’s all over. My mom insisted on going shopping. The street was lined with stores, so she wanted to enter every one that had something she liked in the windows. Let’s just say I’ve never shopped this much in one morning, let alone with my mom. Lucy was probably right in saying that she was trying to rebuild our relationship. She bought me a ton of clothes. I definitely have enough to restock my school wardrobe. I started to enjoy it once Lucy joined forces with my mom. She was lucky to have Lucy help me survive the onslaught. Lucy also gave me her opinions whenever my mom wasn’t looking. The fittings were difficult with my injuries. My abdominal pain was so intense that Lucy had to help me more than once. Luckily, my mom was too busy finding me new outfits to notice.

- "Have you decided what to order?"

We all looked at each other before nodding to the waiter. I settled on a Caesar salad, not feeling very hungry today. Lucy seemed to be on the same page since she ordered the same thing. My mom chose salmon. The waiter jotted down our orders and left.

- "Are you sure you girls don’t want anything else?"

- "I’m not very hungry."

- "That’s surprising, you’re usually always hungry," Lucy teased.

- "Hey! That’s not true!"

- "It is. You’re a bottomless pit," she said, raising an eyebrow.

I stuck my tongue out at her and puffed out my cheeks. She pinched them playfully. Damn, she’s way too adorable.

- "I’m surprised to see Ona so open with you," my mom commented.

- "It wasn’t easy," Lucy replied honestly with a smile. "It started with floor scrubbing and arguments—"

- "Don’t exaggerate," I interrupted. "You just made me  clean a bathroom and some toilets," I retorted.

- "Oh no, scrubbing is the right word," she insisted with a mischievous smile. "I’ve never seen anyone do it so well. Anyone else would have done a sloppy job."

Is she joking? I remember that day like it was yesterday! It was my second day, and she pushed me to the limit by making me clean a locker room after my classes. I didn’t think my work was perfect, but Lucy had stopped me. I thought it was because it was time to eat, but it looks like I was wrong.

- "Don’t make that face. It was a good lesson for you back then. You taught me that you could be very meticulous."

- "You were testing me?" I asked, offended.

- "It was more of an assessment. Anyway," she continued before I could respond, "all Ona needed was a bit of attention, and I gave it to her. It was my job as a supervisor, but I quickly grew attached to her and her story. That’s what built her trust in me."

- "She confided in you?" my mom asked.

- "Yes, mom," I answered myself. "I confided in her."

- "I wanted her to see a therapist for a long time, but if I had known all she needed was a lovely young instructor, I would have changed my approach," my mom joked.

Lucy laughed at her comment, while I found myself embarrassed. A strange feeling washed over me. She’d never been so complimentary about my friends before. And we’d never managed to have such a pleasant time together. If it happened before, I don’t remember. It felt like Lucy’s presence changed everything, and that made me happy.

- "To be honest, I also considered that idea for a while," Lucy admitted once she calmed down. "I mean, about the therapist," she clarified. "But knowing Ona, I knew she would resist, so I didn’t even bother suggesting it."

- "Good thing you didn’t!" I replied. "I’m not sick; I don’t need to see a doctor."

- "No one said you were sick," she rolled her eyes. "It’s just that seeing a therapist might have helped. I sensed you were in a dark place more than once, and it could have done you some good, but whatever."

- "Hmm," I sulked slightly. "Just so you know, I’d much rather confide in you or Mapi than in some stranger in a lab coat."

- "Oh my," Lucy mocked, quickly joined by my mom.

I didn’t understand why they were laughing. Maybe my reaction was exaggerated, but that’s how I feel. There’s no way I’m talking about my problems with a stranger, even though I’ve gotten better about it. Back when I first came back, the idea was unthinkable. I shut down just at the thought of outside help. I barely left my room, so there was no way I was going to venture outside the house. My mom eventually gave up, realizing I wouldn’t change my mind on the matter. I turned to Lucy, who gave me a sad smile. Her sorrowful eyes affected me deeply. I didn’t mean to make her sad, but I’m so relieved that someone finally knows my secret. A weight has been lifted off my shoulders, but it’s clear it has been placed on hers instead. I hope she’ll be able to process it quickly. Thankfully, the server arrived with our meals, ending our discussion. That concluded the conversation as we wished each other a good meal and began eating. My mom restarted the conversation after clearing her throat.

- "So… this might not be the right time to bring this up, but… I’m curious why you chose management as a class option. I imagine Lucy had something to do with that choice."

- "That’s a slippery slope, mom," I warned. "The last time we brought this up was at Christmas, and it didn’t end well."

- "You didn’t tell me about that," Lucy whispered, making sure only I could hear.

I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye, remembering that I hadn’t mentioned it to her. Mapi wanted me to call her that very night, but I didn’t want to. It was a holiday, and there was no way I was going to bother her with my problems. I hadn’t brought it up again since.

- "I’m not going to judge your choices anymore, Ona," my mom continued. "It was just a simple question because it’s surprising. You were never very fond of math, as far as I remember."

"I didn’t like science either," I retorted. "But if you really want to know, it was a purely strategic choice. Management is always useful. Especially when you want to become independent quickly. »

I feel Lucy’s hand tighten on my thigh. She’s probably afraid I might lose control. She’s probably right, as I tend to snap when it comes to my mother. Her touch instantly calms me and even reassures me. I know I’m not alone.

“You want to go into the art field, don’t you?” she asks me.

“If I may,” Lucy interjects, “I’m the one who encouraged her in that direction. It might be a risky choice, but…”

She pauses for a moment to look at me before continuing with a smile on her lips.

“I would’ve preferred to tell her first, but you’re her mother, so you have the right to know as well… I’ve got a good chance of finding her some support to get started in that field.”

Her announcement makes me choke. I’m not sure I heard her correctly. Lucy helps me as I cough, patting my back and handing me a glass of water. I down it in one gulp to clear my throat, while she discreetly rests her hand back on my thigh.

“I didn’t think it would have such an effect on you,” she laughs.

“What do you mean by ‘support’?”

“I have a friend who knows people in the field. I gave him one of your sketchbooks.”

“You did what?!” I exclaim.

“Oh, listen to me before fixating on that detail,” she scolds. “He passed it on to an expert who thinks you’re very promising! You could thank me instead of complaining.”

“Where did you find it?”

“Maybe in your closet full of sketchbooks?”

She went through my closet… in my room? When? Did she see all the drawings I’ve done in recent weeks? Damn. I blush just thinking about it. I lower my head to avoid my mother noticing. Most of the sketches are of her, or places and landscapes we’ve seen together, from every possible angle. Deep down, I was desperate and just wanted to reconnect with her. My art is always better when my feelings are involved.

“I took the least personal one,” she tells me, tightening her grip on my thigh.

“You saw everything…” I breathe out as if it’s obvious.

I can’t believe it. I would’ve preferred if she had asked me before doing something like that. It’s way too personal. Yet, I can’t even be mad at her.

“What would happen if the professional took an interest in Ona?” my mother finally asks.

“I’m not exactly sure. My friend mentioned mentoring her or possibly helping her get into an art school to refine her skills. The man was very interested and plans to show it to his boss. There’s a good chance they might take her under their wing. Anyway, the most important thing is that she gets a foot in the door so she can start and get noticed.”

I’m still struggling to believe it. If she did all that, it’s to give me a golden opportunity for my future. I don’t know who her friend is, but I’ll have to thank him properly. My mother seems completely understanding of what Lucy is saying. It’s very surprising. I didn’t think she’d take it so well when she’s always preferred me to follow in her footsteps.

“I guess if it works out, she’ll stay here?”

“It’s up to her to decide…”

“I’m likely to stay here in almost any case, Mom. I like it here, and my new friends all have plans to settle down here. It’ll be my fresh start. It’s what you wanted, right?”

I’ve never been so clear about what I want for my future as I am today. The others talk about it all the time. I already know Alexia will do anything to stay here to be with Jenni. She’s subtly trying to convince her sister to stay too. As for Leah and Alessia, they already live here. Just like Lotte, who lives with her father at the school, along with Patri and Claudia. And then, of course, there’s Lucy. She’s my main motivation for wanting to stay. I’m not sure I want to live with her right away, for fear that things might move too quickly, but I’ll find a way to stay here regardless.

“I guess you’ve already made up your mind…”

“I never said that,” I sigh. “I’m just thinking about it, that’s all. You’re the one who sent me here. I just created the life I like.”

“It’s obvious,” she smiles sadly. “I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time. That’s why I want to thank Lucy, who’s surely a big part of that. Especially with her hand on your thigh at this very moment.”

Damn. How did she notice? Lucy was so discreet. She immediately removes her hand, making my mother smile. I don’t even dare look to the side. I’m sure Lucy is just as panicked as I am.

“T-that's not what-, Lucy stammers.

“Oh, come on,” my mother interrupts her. “I wasn’t born yesterday! I already knew about Mapi, if you’re still wondering, Ona.”

I open my mouth to speak, but my mother beats me to it.

“I don’t blame you for keeping quiet. I completely understand why, given our situation, but try not to lie to me again. You tried to be discreet all morning, but your looks and gestures when my back was turned were obvious.”

“I swear I-,” my girlfriend tries.

“You still dare to deny it?” my mother gently teases.

Lucy sighs and finally looks at me. I’ve never seen her like this… So embarrassed? Worried? Her behavior affects me even more than before. She nervously runs her hand through her hair.

“Fine,” she says. “I’ll be honest then. I tried to ignore your daughter, but I simply couldn’t.”

“Please, feel free to address me informally. You’ve done so well up until now.”

Lucy grimaces slightly. The situation must be different for her now. I’ve never seen her so uncomfortable. It’s my turn to place my hand on her thigh to reassure her. I thought she would remove it, but she doesn’t. She takes it and intertwines our fingers. I didn’t think we’d have to have this conversation so soon.

“If you want to report me to Wiegman, I’ll accept the consequences, but there’s no way I’m staying away from your daughter.”

I hadn’t even thought of that. I look at my mother with a panicked expression. Would she dare? Her face is unreadable until a small smile appears on her lips.

“That was never my intention. Ona would never forgive me if I did something like that,” she says with a genuine smile. “It’s a beautiful gesture of love, in any case. My intention was just to confirm my suspicions, and it seems I was right.”

Lucy’s grip on my hand loosens slightly. I think her wave of panic has passed. She gently caresses the knuckles she had just been crushing.

“So… I mean, it doesn’t bother you that we’re together…?” I ask uncertainly.

“Why would it? Ona, I know we didn’t always see eye to eye, but I’ve never wanted anything but your happiness, even if you have a hard time understanding that. If Lucy is the one who makes you happy, I’m not going to stand in your way. I should be thanking her for bringing my daughter back.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for. She makes me just as happy.”

I don’t know what to say. So my mother knew all along, and I didn’t even realize it. Maybe Mapi told her, or maybe I’m less predictable to her than I thought. We weren’t on good terms, but her opinion still mattered to me. It could have completely torn our relationship apart, which is why I was afraid to tell her. In any case, this conversation was unexpected. Dimples form on my girlfriend’s cheeks as she smiles. I lean in to kiss her, not caring if my mother is watching. It doesn’t last long, but it’s enough to convey all my gratitude for facing this with me.

“So, how long have you two been together?”

Lucy and I look at each other for a moment before a small laugh escapes us. It’s probably the tension releasing.

“To be honest… Only since last night,” Lucy admits.

“Oh… I expected it to be longer than that,” my mother says with a hint of disappointment. “And how old are you? If it’s not too intrusive.”

“Mom,” I groan, rolling my eyes.

“It’s okay, Ona,” Lucy giggles. “I’m turning twenty-six this year. I’m older, but it’s never bothered us until now. Ona is very mature for her age… Stubborn when she wants to be, but mature.”

This is the first time she’s ever said that. I didn’t know she thought that about me. She usually calls me a “cheeky kid.” I look at my mother to see her reaction. She just smiles and nods. She doesn’t seem to want to contest it. She was always interested in the people in my life, which is why I was afraid to tell her about my orientation. When I was a teenager, I sometimes brought home a few boys, and that was the only time she asked questions and seemed to care about me.

“It seems you’ve found your rare gem, Ona.”

“I hope so. She scares me sometimes, but otherwise she’s perfect.”

- "Hey!" complains my girlfriend.

- "Sorry, but I used to think of you as a tyrant at first," I admitted.

- "Nice," she mutters.

Our conversation is interrupted by laughter, not from us, but from my mother. We look at her, unsure of how to react. I gently stroke Lucy's hand with a smile.

- "You two are adorable. Since yesterday, you say? You don’t seem like it, given how you act around each other."

- "We kind of delayed things because of me," Lucy admits, briefly glancing at me.

- "You're definitely welcome in Barcelona this weekend, since that's probably what's going to happen," my mom teases us.

- "That wasn't my intention..."

- "But you knew I was going to suggest it," I said. "You're not going to make me beg, are you? She’s giving you her blessing!"

- "And why not?" she raises an eyebrow. "If I'm supposedly a tyrant, you might as well beg."

- "You’re impossible."

- "And you're a fool."

I groan in frustration. I’m sure she would be capable of saying no. I move closer and kiss her on the cheek.

- "I’m sorry for thinking that. You know, of course, that I don’t believe it anymore. Now that you’ve had your apology... Will you come to Barcelona with me? Please?"

- "Hmm... I don't know," she teases with a smirk.

- "My mom is giving you permission to come," I repeated desperately.

Seeing that she only responds with a smug smile, I pout and return to my meal. I have to let go of her hand to pick up my fork, which doesn’t seem to please her. But I don't like being teased this much either. I hope she won’t refuse to let me go home if she decides not to come. My priority is to see Joan now. I wouldn’t want her to be mad at me for forgetting him.

- "We’ll talk about it later, okay?" she says more calmly.

- "It’s already decided. Either you come with me, or I go alone," I muttered.

Lucy sighs, catching my attention. I know she won’t let me go alone given the circumstances.

- "Fine. You win."

- "Really?" I asked, more excitedly than I meant to.

- "I suppose, yeah," she says, shrugging nonchalantly. "If I’m allowed," she adds, looking at my mom.

- "I don't see any problem with it. My daughter is an adult; she’s old enough to handle her love life."

- "See! So, you’re coming with me?"

- "Alright, alright."

- "Oh my God!" I exclaimed, jumping into her arms. "You’re the best!"

A sharp pain shoots through me because of my position, but it doesn’t stop me from kissing her cheek repeatedly. I’ve wanted her to see my world for so long. Now, that’s one thing that will finally happen.

- "But I haven't forgotten about your studying."

- "Are you serious?" I groaned. "Can’t you leave your responsible side behind for once?"

- "No. I’m not repeating a year because of you."

- "I’m not asking you to do that."

- "But I’m not letting you repeat a year on your own either. Who knows what kind of disaster that would be. I guess we can study tonight and tomorrow."

- "Good idea. That way we can relax this weekend."

- "That depends on how much you get done."

I roll my eyes as she laughs. Well, she’s right anyway. I didn’t start my second semester off well, and I need to get to work if I want to succeed. Especially after what Lucy just told me about my future. The rest of the meal continues mainly with conversations between my mom and my girlfriend. My mom is very interested in Lucy’s life and, surprisingly, in mine here as well. Maybe we’re finally ready to move forward. I still think Lucy’s presence has a lot to do with it. My mom must really like her. She’s nothing like Feli or my other boyfriends. She’s smart and full of charisma. I’m lucky she chose me as her girlfriend. To think she’s helping to solve all my problems with my mom.

Thursday, February 4th; 4:00 PM - Lucy’s Room.

I smile as Lucy collapses onto her bed just after we enter her room. For a day that was supposed to be relaxing, it was surprisingly busy. We just got back. Lucy kindly offered to drop my mom off at the airport after lunch. They connected immediately. We stayed with her until she took off. My mom took the opportunity to buy our tickets for this weekend. She got three after we discussed it with Lucy. I noticed she was uncomfortable with the idea of coming to Barcelona, so I suggested we bring Ingrid along. I like her, and I’ve heard she’s getting closer to Mapi. It’s a chance to thank her and make up for things.

- "This day was so unexpected," Lucy comments, pulling me out of what must have been an intense stare.

Her smile widens, probably thinking I was watching her. I blush and look away. That’s probably not the best way to prove otherwise, but it was an automatic reaction.

- "Yeah... I-I’m going to call Mapi. I’ll let her know we’re coming to Barcelona this weekend."

- "I think your mom was afraid I’d change my mind, which is why she bought the tickets," she laughs.

- "Probably. She really liked you."

- "Isn’t that a good thing?"

- "I don’t care what she thinks."

She sits down to take off her shoes. Meanwhile, I grab my phone from the nightstand drawer. Lucy tosses her shoes onto the floor, creating a loud noise, before lying back against her pillow with a satisfied sigh.

- "You know, Ona. You can lie to anyone you want, but definitely not to me," she smiles.

- "Alright... Maybe it matters a little."

She giggles and pats the spot next to her. I don’t like that she can read me so well. It feels like I can’t hide anything from her.

- "I expected your mom to be more difficult," she confesses. "She really cares about you, you know."

- "I know," I sighed.

I sit on the edge of the bed to take off my shoes, which quickly join Lucy’s on the floor. As soon as they’re off, I gasp in surprise when she pulls me back.

- "Gently," I grumbled. "I’m still recovering!"

- "Oh, sorry hermosa," she says, freezing me in her arms.

This new nickname from her feels almost strange. She presses herself against my back, burying her head in my hair.

- "Are you okay?" she whispers.

- "Yeah," I sighed.

I turn over, groaning as I move. The painkiller is starting to wear off. But I smile when she kisses my forehead.

- "Are you still in a lot of pain?"

- "It’s manageable," I say, running a hand through my hair.

She looks at me in a way that makes me finally see what she’s feeling. I wonder how she used to hide her emotions so well.

"I’m going to put more cream on you, and you’ll take another painkiller with dinner. That should keep you comfortable through the night. »

- "It's not necessary."

- "Don't argue," she says as she gets up. "You've been complaining about the pain all day, so you're going to let me take care of you."

- "Fine," I relented.

It's hard to argue when she's already in the bathroom getting the cream. I take advantage of her absence to lie down in the middle of the bed and lift my shirt up to just below my chest.

- "I'll take this opportunity to call Mapi, if you don't mind. She's going to give me an earful for not being in touch," I added.

- "Go ahead," she says, straddling me. "I told her I'd allow you to call in the next few days. Maybe you'll be spared since she thinks I was the one keeping you from it."

- "I doubt she believed that," I giggled.

I can't help but look at Lucy with soft, tender eyes. She seems so different from usual. She's much more... open. Maybe I wasn't the most closed-off one between us after all. I must be looking at her strangely, given the way she starts to smile.

- "What? Is something bothering you?"

- "No," I said, blushing. "It's just that you're acting differently."

- "In a good way, I hope?"

- "Oh yes, yes," I stammered.

- "Well... You'd better get used to it... At least in private, of course."

My eyes linger on her hands, now covered in cream.

- "Make your call. She's just waiting for you to do it."

I nod as I dial her number, feeling a slight knot in my stomach. I'm dreading her reaction after my long week of silence. She has every right to be upset with me. The call connects just as Lucy's hands rest on my sides.

- "Wow! A call from my Onita? I thought I was hallucinating. Is it really you?"

- "Hello to you too, Mapi... Yes, it's me," I rolled my eyes.

- "Oh, well it's a good thing it's you. Just so you know, I'm hurt by your radio silence, Ona."

- "It wasn't my fault."

- "Of course. What did you always tell me...? Oh yes, I remember. 'When there's a will, there's a way.' Isn't that right?"

What was I thinking? It was obvious she'd be upset. I close my eyes as a shiver runs through me, thanks to Lucy's gentle touches. It's such a contrast to the harsh, resentful words my best friend just said.

- "If you keep pouting, I'll hang up without sharing the good news."

- "Good news?" she scoffs. "Who am I talking to? Whoever you are, give me back my best friend. She hasn't had good news to share in weeks."

- "Okay, fine, you win. I'm hanging up."

- "Oh, there it is! I think I recognize my Onita now!"

I roll my eyes in amusement as I hear her laugh. There's some commotion in the background, and I frown, realizing she's not alone. It's rare for her to be with anyone since her breakup; she had isolated herself.

- "Who are you with?"

- "Miller and Bryan. They're helping me with a project for class. They send their regards."

- "Oh, that's unexpected. You're not in for an easy time with them. Say hi to them for me too."

- "I have to spend time with people since you're not here. And you'd be surprised. They're actually decent help, against all odds."

There it is, the remark I was expecting. Mapi can be very bitter when she wants to be.

- "I'm sorry, Maps," I say, focusing on my stomach where Lucy's fingers are still working. I'm trying to make it up to her, but she won't let me get a word in edgewise.

I didn't know Lucy was so skilled at massages. It's making it hard to concentrate. My stomach is still covered in bruises, but she's being very careful not to hurt me.

- "Hey, Batlle!"

- "Hmm?" I responded absentmindedly.

- "You sound... quite occupied," she teases. "Maybe I should hang up instead of waiting for your apologies."

- "Sorry," I groaned. "I was just focused on something else."

Lucy chuckles at my response, finally looking up at me. I blush at the thought of what she might be thinking.

- "Oh, and what's so distracting that you're ignoring me, again?"

- "I'm not ignoring you," I rolled my eyes.

- "Hmm... Sure, whatever you say," she mutters. "Anyway, what's this good news? Since you couldn't manage to write to me for a whole week, you better tell me you talked with Lucy."

- "That's actually the good news, sort of," I replied, locking eyes with Lucy.

I bite my lip as I feel Lucy's hands move up my sides, a very sensitive spot for me since I'm extremely ticklish. I wonder if she can hear what Mapi's saying.

- "Explain. You owe me that much, I think."

- "Everything's sorted out. The good news is that I'm coming home to Barcelona this weekend, and she's coming with me."

- "Oh really, yo-... Wait. What!?" she exclaimed.

I smiled, imagining the expression she must have. I'd pay a lot to see it. I can hear the guys teasing her in the background.

- "She just figured it out?" Lucy asks me.

- "I think so."

- "Put her on speaker."

I comply, pressing the button before placing the phone beside us.

- "I assume you're with her? How could you hide this from me? Since when!? It's a disgrace! I’ve been supporting your relationship from the beginning and putting up with your broken hearts! I should have been informed the next hour!"

- "Calm down. It's very recent," Lucy replies.

- "Lucy!" she exclaims in surprise. "No, but seriously! I'm both mad at you and happy for you at the same time. You'd better take care of my best friend, and as for you, Ona, you'd better tell me everything! I want all the details!"

- "There she goes, we've lost her," Lucy jokes. "I don't need your threats to do that, you know," she retorts. "You've already done enough, and I've already had to face Ona's mom's threats."

- "It's thanks to my threats that you're together, in a way. Hey, wait. What did you say? Abby? What's this all about?"

- "It's a very long story," I say just as Lucy applies cream to my bruised eye.

- "You two are so mean to me," Mapi responds. "How dare you hide everything from me, of all people?"

- "We're not hiding anything from you. We'll explain everything this weekend, I promise."

- "Pff, yeah, whatever. It doesn't change the fact that you'd better take care of Ona, or you'll be hearing from me!"

- "Don't worry about that."

I chuckle as Lucy rolls her eyes. She smiles at me before leaning down to kiss me. We must not be very discreet because it triggers a disgusted noise on the other end of the phone.

- "Please, don't do that while I'm still on the line."

- "What's wrong, Mapi?" Lucy teases. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

- "Oh yes, but I'd rather not hear your kisses and cuddles. It's depressing for a single person."

- "As far as I know, you won't be single much longer."

- "What do you mean?" I asked. "Since when does Lucy know more than I do?"

- "Since you've been missing in action, duh."

- "Very petty revenge, Mapi. Once again, it's Lucy who didn't want me to text you at night."

- "No, it's not that I didn't want you to. It's just that you needed to sleep earlier, and she preferred being in Alexia's room before."

- "Yeah, whatever. Doesn't matter. Now that I'm here, is what she just said true?"

- "Of course," Lucy answers. "Mapi is just scared to take the plunge with Ingrid."

- "Lucy!" my best friend exclaims. "I thought that was supposed to stay between us!"

- "Oops?"

I giggle as Mapi sighs in frustration. So, she's scared to date my instructor. That's new and very unexpected.

- "You'd better stop stalling, Mapi. Ingrid won't chase after you forever," Lucy tells her.

- "I know," she sighs. "But it's complicated with the distance and all. I'd prefer to talk to her face to face."

- "It's your lucky day because she's coming with us this weekend."

- "What!?"

- "You heard right. I know you told her you'd give her a chance when you saw each other again, so if you want my advice, start coming up with convincing arguments. Ingrid can be a very difficult woman when she wants to be."

- "Wha-"

- "Don't say we never did you a favor. Now, I'd like to spend the rest of this afternoon with my girlfriend, if you don't mind."

- "No, no, wait, please! Don't hang u-"

- "Goodnight, Mapi."

I look at Lucy curiously as she hangs up on Mapi. She's not going to appreciate that. What bothers me more, though, is that Lucy knows more than I do.

- "What did I miss?"

- "Mapi is scared and keeps pushing things back. A bit like me. The situation is starting to frustrate Ingrid, and I just gave her some golden information. She'd better use it because Ingrid can be very unforgiving."

- "Oh... I guess she's afraid to open her heart again."

- "I don't know Mapi well enough to understand her reasons," she shrugs. "She just confided in me because I know Ingrid, and you weren't around."

- "Hmm... I hope things work out for them."

- "I'm sure they will. I said Ingrid was unforgiving, not heartless," she smiles. "She might just make Mapi sweat a little, if you know what I mean."

- "I know exactly what you mean."

I laugh against Lucy's lips as she comes in for another kiss. She doesn't stay long, though, as she gets up to return to the bathroom to put away the cream and wash her hands. Meanwhile, I don't dare move since I'm covered in cream everywhere, and I don't want to risk getting it all over. She comes back shortly after to put away my phone and then lies down next to me again. I smile as she wraps her arms around me. I hope Mapi finds the same happiness I've found. It's the best I can wish for her. One thing is certain, though: this weekend is going to be very interesting.

[theelfsongbard]

Counterweight

Pairing: spawn!Astarion x AFAB!reader

Summary: after the epilogue, you and Astarion share a summer’s afternoon together in the meadow. For @oharahive’s breeding kink challenge!

Warnings: epilogue spoilers, breeding kink, mentions of potential future pregnancy

Word Count: 2273

Image source: https://www.pinterest.com.au/pin/760123243354175763/

These past 6 months have been the counterweight to 200 years of misery. Thank you.

He had said those words to you weeks ago, and from then, he had slowly been opening up more and more to you. More frank, more transparent with his feelings than ever before. Today, he is quiet again but you know his mind is anything but, still coming to terms with his grand adventure and the turn of fate that it has brought with it. All at once, he speaks up.

“You bring me the best happiness. You show me the way, where I cannot see and you give me love where I don’t always deserve it. I don’t know how you do it, but I will always be grateful for you.”

The summer breeze blows over the meadow, sifting over the long grass like a wave of verdant green. How lovely it is, to be here, to be loved. Astarion’s thoughts lazily drift as he rests his head in your lap, his eyes shut and sheltered from the sunlight by the wide canopy of an old oak. Slowly he breathes in, bringing cool air into lungs that no longer work. Things have changed drastically in the past 6 months, and now, despite his condition, he found himself flourishing and a free man.

Above him, your gentle humming stops though your hand in his hair continues to massage his scalp with just the right amount of pressure. “And I would give up anything to see you happy for all eternity without hesitation. Has last night’s party been on your mind, love? You’ve been introspective lately.”

“How can I help myself, darling? I can’t help but think about how things could’ve turned out so differently, and yet every iteration I think about, I cannot imagine myself being happier than I am now. You led me here and I… hate to think what life would be like without you being my guiding light. I’d be bitter, resentful, enslaved still by my own will or by Cazador. And I know that I was not always easy to love, but you stayed anyways when it would have been so easy to walk away.”

“You are worthy of love. I have chosen to love you because waking up to your smile every day and seeing you grow into who you are brings me joy. You are my home and my guide. The obstacles we faced together only strengthened our bond.”

Astarion cracks one vermillion eye open, a knowing smirk on his lips, “You like my smile? Why don’t you tell me more?” His voice deepens playfully as he drags you down to press some feather-light kisses on your mouth. This is his way of processing his feelings on complicated topics, as if he is afraid that wallowing in his thoughts any longer will eat him alive even though he has become less self-conscious about openly sharing his thoughts now.

You gasp in feigned scandalousness, “If I feed your ego too much, you might be too full of yourself for tonight’s dinner! I suppose you’ll just have to settle with knowing that you’re just lovely.” The way you giggle into his mouth sets something alight in him and he flips himself over, pinning you down into the grass below him, earning him a squeal of delighted surprise. This time, it’s your turn to lean up and capture his lips with her own, pulling a low rumbling chuckle from deep in his throat that vibrates through his chest and into hers where he presses against you. “Cheeky little thing aren't you?” the sound of his voice combined with the feeling of his arms caging you in makes your heart beat wildly in its ribcage. Nobody plays the game of seduction better than Astarion and the past 6 months together have only given him time to learn exactly what makes you tick.

“If you're worried about me being too full for dinner, I suppose I can always have dinner a little earlier, if you'll permit it. There's always room for dessert afterwards.” his lips graze tantalisingly over the exposed skin of your neck, his nose nuzzling the shell of your ear with care.

The ring of your laugh chimes like a bell on the wind, “Oh, just stop playing coy and come down for a bite then!”

You don’t need to ask twice before you feel his fangs probing for the blood beneath your skin before finally piercing into your neck, you grit your teeth and cling to his arms as he bears down. The feeling of pain never gets any better no matter how many times he feeds from you, but you have gotten used to the icy pricks and the ensuing numbness as he draws the blood from your body into his. It's his chest that warms first, followed by the healthy flush of life that fills his cheeks and… more intimate regions making itself known by the hardening desire pressed into your stomach.

Drunk on the fresh bouquet of your blood, Astarion laps his tongue against the puncture wounds at your neck, capturing the remnants of his dinner as it runs from the site. An appreciative moan pours from his throat, and when he pulls away at last, you can see that his eyes burn with fire and need. Feeding Astarion doesn’t always lead to sex, but the intimacy of the act makes it a very appealing activity for you both and today is one of those days.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about our future as well, what adventures it might hold for us both,” he kisses up your neck, tickling you and leaving you gasping for air as he teases. The only coherent word you can manage to utter is a shaky “yes?”.

“And I had the most interesting chat with Gale at the party.”

You frowned, wondering where on earth he was going with this. There was once a time when he and Gale weren’t on the best of terms with one another, not in the least because he was also competing for your affection when it was clearly already given to Astarion. Although time had mellowed out Astarion’s moodiness and dislike of the wizard, you couldn't help but think that perhaps it was jealousy that had stoked the fire of his appetite today.

“Oh? And what about him?” you squirmed about as his lips found your ear.

“It's nothing about him, but it is about us. You see, he was telling me about a guest lecturer he had at his school, a dhampir.”

Oh. Oh. So that was what was on his mind.

“Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” The implication hung there, tantalising. The idea of children wasn’t a topic that you had broached with Astarion. In all honesty, you had both had your hands full with other things; adventuring, searching for a cure to vampirism, working to rebuild the Underdark for the many spawn that had been released from Cazador’s manse. But now that he had mentioned it, your mind couldn't help but be filled with images of Astarion lovingly gazing down at a small fragile bundle close to his chest, swathed in cloth. Astarion smiling as he held out a finger clutched by tiny hands. Astarion cooing and stroking its cheek as it drifted into a trance, protected from the cruelty of the world by his love. “Astarion.” A familiar tingle of heat fills you and concentrates itself at your core as the thoughts suffocate the forefront of your mind until nothing else surfaces.

“Think of them reaching for us, seeking the comfort of our loving embrace, filling our home with joy in the mornings.” he breathes in wantonly, inhaling your intoxicating scent. You are fertile, and the tang of your blood on his tongue and the scent of it lets him know that your body is ready at its peak to receive a child if you should choose to do so. “I’m ready for a child, if you are, my love.” he breathes it like a promise against your mouth, forehead pressed to yours waiting for your answer.

“Yes. I am ready.” you respond in kind, kissing him earnestly. “Give me your child.”

Astarion’s ministrations grow as much as his enthusiasm. From where he is hovering above you, he growls with a hint of possessiveness and primal joy. The fact that you were willing was a promise of security, of having you by his side in the years to come with the knowledge that you loved him so much that you would choose to create something that would immortalise your expression of love for each other in flesh and bone and flowing blood.

You were his of your own choosing and he was yours. Would always choose you and stand by your side. The thought drives him mad and admist the attention that he lavishes on your lips, a hand snakes down your body, freeing your tucked shirt and undressing you with uncanny dexterity and speed fueled by his need to have you as his partner and his mate. Immediately. To press you down and fill you to the bursting with his essence until his seed overflowed in your womb and blessed you both with child.

His hand is distracted by the curve of your breasts, kneading them gently as he begins to move down your body to lick and suckle on them. The moans pouring from you only serve to heighten his own arousal and fill him with satisfaction as he plays you with all the expertise of a bard with a well-acquainted instrument. When he finally relieves you of your pants, he lovingly dips a finger along your folds, making you buck your hips up, collecting the slick and rubbing it against your clit, revelling in the way you’re already wet with desire for him causing a shiver to run through your body. “Excited, darling?” he dares to tease out with that high giggle of his. The heat in your cheeks only grows as you huff, “you don’t say. Please, don’t stop now.” you're so desperate for his touch, to feel him inside you.

He chuckles, “Only because you’re so desperate -“. He licks a long stripe up through them, but despite pretending otherwise, the hold you have on him is too great and inhumanly quickly, he scrambles back up, his knee hooking up under yours to open you up and pulling himself free from his trousers as he aligns himself with your entrance, coating himself in you before pushing in until he’s fully sheathed in your warm heat. The unexpected stretch rips a stifled yelp of pleasure from you and Astarion can’t help but moan in kind. “Don’t hide, let me hear you.”

Waiting until you’ve adjusted to him, he lifts your knees up to his shoulders, folding you over so that he can bury himself deeper inside. The new position brings you closer to the edge as he thrusts with increasing vigour, losing himself in the need to fill you up completely, imagining his seed taking and the swell of your belly bearing the evidence of your passion for everyone to see. “I want to see you dripping with my seed, fucked full until there’s no room left for anything else.”

“Then do it!” you just about screamed as he reached between you to rub on your clit. “Give it to me,” you sobbed, “until there’s nothing left to give.” the added pressure sent you tumbling over the edge, and your vision blacked out momentarily as your mind tried to catch up with your body, still spasming and twitching around his cock, milking him of all he had as he met his release with a shuddering roar, driving himself even deeper than he had before as he spent himself inside you. He doesn't move to pull out, keeping himself and his spend inside you do as long as possible and the intention of the action makes you clench slightly around his softening cock drawing a hiss from Astarion. “You want to go again, love?”

Catching your breath, from the exertion you couldn't help but drag him down to lay beside you, holding him close as you rest your head on his arm, nuzzling close to his neck and inhaling his comforting scent. It spells safety and tenderness that you know is only reserved for you. “Not right now, Astarion. I'm exhausted, but maybe we do it again another day,” you say with a laugh, “after all, if it doesn’t work this time, we’ll just have to keep on trying.”

“Well,” he says with a lazy kiss, “I’m very on board with your idea.”

“This is nice. This is really nice,” you whisper to him. “I just want to lay here with you forever.”

His hand snakes over to rest on your waist, the reassuring weight grounding you and the gentle press of his lips to your hair making your heart flutter. “Then let’s stay, for a little while longer at least. Close your eyes, darling.” Without even being able to see it, you can hear the smile on Astarion’s lips as he says it. You can’t help but feel a swell of contentment and pride at these moments of softness where so much was said with so few words.

You don't know how long you lay there in the field with Astarion, holding each other as the sun sank below the horizon but the next time you’re pulled from your trance, it’s the stars that watch over you as you anticipate the hopeful possibility of what might come to fruition.

[bimobuddy]

Intimacy

Hazbin Tickle Fic

Lee!Vox, Ler!Valentino

OOC Valentino, he's a lot softer and more genuine in this fic than he is in the show

CW: Suggestive language and moments (nothing too explicit), swearing

Summary: Vox comments that he's not in the mood for s-x, so Val finds another way to be intimate with his partner.

Vox stepped into his shared apartment with Valentino. He groaned and took his hat off, shrugging his jacket off as well, leaving him in his white button up. As soon as he kicked the door shut behind him, his much taller partner stepped into view from the other room. He didn't say much at first, but his open, slightly fluttering wings gave away that he was happy to see him.

"Amor, welcome home. You look stressed~" Valentino purred, his lower set of arms wrapping around Vox's waist, while the upper set cupped the sides of his screen. Vox sighed, "I am. Val-" "How about I take care of that for you~?" Val said, his hands starting to roam, but he felt Vox start to pull away, so he immediately stopped and let him.

"Thanks, Val, but I'm not in the mood," he reached up and took one of the moth's hands, "Maybe we can do something else tonight.. I do want to spend time with you, I just don't-.. I'm not in the mood I'm sor-" Val cut him off by gently squeezing his hand, "Relax, The first no was enough, Screen-Bean, I understand."

Vox felt his screen light up a bit more. He huffed and turned away just a bit. "Don't call me that.." Val chuckled, amused, and effortlessly scooped him up. Vox yelped a little out of surprise, "V-Val! Put-" He immediately went quiet as his partner pressed their foreheads together, muttering something in Spanish. Having spent enough time with Val, he had learned enough to know what he had said. 'Would you relax? Let me take care of you, you angry little man.'

The show-host huffed at that last comment, but allowed Valentino to carry him to their room. "So, out of curiosity, what has you so stressed, my love?" The moth asked. Vox sank a little more into his arms, secretly delighted with how gentle Val was holding him. It was moments like this that reminded him that he was loved instead of just lusted for.

"Fuckin' Alastor.. He showed up at the studio today." Vox muttered. Val couldn't stop the amused smile that appeared. He knew his partner hated the Radio Demon, but it amused him just how dramatic the rivalry was at times. Both of them were equally as petty toward each other. "Did you win?" He asked. Vox just sighed, his screen dimming. His poor little host.

"I see... And you're not in the mood for sex," He made it to their bed and set Vox down, biting back a chuckle as the other just let himself flop down pathetically, "So what are you in the mood for?"

Vox laid there on their bed, his legs draped over Val's lap, as his partner rested all four arms on top of them. "I don't know.. Nothing sexual, just.. Intimacy.. I don't really know how to voice it. I just want to be close to you.. And I want to touch you, but.. just not like that."

Val understood what he meant perfectly. He may have been a very sexual person, but he was no stranger to affection. "Anywhere in particular you don't wish to be touched? Other than your dick." This made Vox burst into light laughter, being immature, pressing a hand over his mouth as he turned his brightening face away.

Oh there we go.

Valentino had always loved Vox's laugh. His real laugh, anyway. It was so rare that he got to hear it. It sounded so human.

Just as Vox was calming down, he reached up and started to unbutton his shirt. The host raised a brow at him. He knew Valentino would not go back on his word, so he wasn't exactly sure what he was doing. However, he got his answer when Val's lower two hands started to gently trace circles into the area just above his hips.

His screen lit up and started to turn pink. "V-Vahal- c'mon-" He started, cursing himself for letting a giggle slip out. The taller of the two grinned. "Oh don't act like you don't like it, I'm not dumb~" He teased, getting his shirt open and slipping two hands in to skitter up his sides. "After years of being intimate, you really thought I never picked up on this little quirk of yours?"

Vox's screen went completely pink. He knew!? For the longest time, he had tried to keep this fondness a secret. He didn't want Val to get the wrong idea and think it was a fetish. It wasn't, he just didn't fully understand what exactly it was. He knew he liked it though. He knew it was-

His eyes widened. It was intimate. Like he had asked.

And Val knew this. That's why he started in the first place.

He felt Valentino raise his arms over his head and pin them there, his second set of hands gently scritching up and down his sides. Vox tossed his head back and just let the giggles spill out of him. "H-Hohohow the fuhuhuck-!?"

Val grinned, scritching up to his ribs, his claws gently crawling up the bones and toward his underarms, making Vox twitch and giggle. "Like I said, we've slept together so many times, it wasn't hard for me to figure out you were ticklish. However, instead of moving away or telling me to stop, you always just let it happen." He swirled his claws into Vox's underarms, getting heavier laughter out of him. He continued, "At first I thought you were into it sexually, but then it occured to me, that you'd have no issue communicating that. So that scratched that off the list of possibilities." As he said 'scratched,' he started to scritch at his underarms, smirking as he felt Vox starting to kick at the mattress.

"Sooo, as time went on, I started to realize that you leaned into it the same way you lean into any other show of affection. You see this," he scribbled over his tummy, "as affectionate."

Vox couldn't even argue. Literally, from the laughter, but also because he knew Val was right. It was affectionate to him. It was closeness, it was soft, it made him happy, especially when coming from someone close to him like Val.

His moth pressed their foreheads together again, the tickling slowing. "So now, amor.. Shall I continue?" Vox was blushy and flustered, but he hesitantly nodded. He had kept it a secret for years now, and he wanted to finally share this with Val.

With that, he felt his partner release his wrists, placing two hands on his tummy, and two hands at his lower sides, just above his hips. "Keep your arms up then~" he purred. Immediately, Vox's fans whirred to life as he started to heat up, causing Val to chuckle.

He started to scritch and skitter along his tummy, while gently pinching at his hips. Vox let out an airy wheeze before he dissolved into frantic giggles, trying to pull his knees up to his chest, but Vall just pushed them back down and sat on his lap to keep them down.

Vox's skin felt buzzy, his heart was fluttering, and he felt overwhelmed with four hands getting him at once. And it felt great. He had to grab the pillow underneath him to keep his arms up as he squirmed from side to side, kicking his heels into the bed.

"Fuhuhuhuck, Vahahahal! Ahahahahaha plehehehease-" "Please what~? Because I know you don't want me to stop yet~" Val teased. Vox couldn't answer, just looking away.

Val started targeting his underarms again with gentle scratching, drilling his thumbs into his hips at the time time. Vox arched his back and slammed his arms down, cackling and curling up on his side. "FAHAHAHACK! NOHOHOT THEHEHERE, NONONO HAHAHAHAHA!" He screamed out, his voice glitching and his legs kicking.

After his screen went to bars for a second, Val eased up and slowed to a stop. "Arms back up, darling, my hands are stuck~" He cooed, gently tugging on his hands. "I cahahant!" Vox said, still blushing and giggling, loopy. Val chuckled, looking down at him in adoration. "I'm not even tickling you anymore!" Vox's screen lit up pink again, still unable to calm his giggling down. "I knohow, shuhut uhuhup!"

Understanding he was overwhelmed, Val reached up and took an antenna in his hand, gently rubbing it. Vox leaned into it, his frantic giggling calming down as his breathing started to even out. The moth used his other free hand to cup the side of Vox's face, brushing a thumb against his screen.

The host opened his eyes and relaxed, looking up at his partner, still clearly loopy and not fully thinking or functioning. Val slipped his hands out from under Vox's arms and shifted to lay next to him, continuing to hold him and give him his full attention.

One hand continued to rub his antenna, making him melt into the touch, while the other three wrapped around him to pull him closer. He touched their foreheads together, and Vox dimmed his screen to make it easier on Val's eyes.

As Vox started to doze off, he knew he'd start asking for this a lot more often.