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tarotsoul · 17 hours ago

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ghost in the wind — part five

summary: harnessing your power is growing easier by the day, and madja finds out some interesting things about witches souls.

warnings: swearing, mentions of torture, kissing, teasing, fingering, handjob, oral (female receiving—all of this is somewhat public), mentions of death

word count: 6.4k

series masterlist

Cassian struggled against the vines that wrapped tight across his midriff, his muscles flexing with power but nothing shifted as they tightened with his every move. His golden skin was coated in a thin sheen of sweat, his shoulder-length hair damp with excursion.

You were no better. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, your skin flushed as your knees began to buckle. Hold it. Rhysand’s voice had continued to purr into your mind throughout the session, guiding and commanding every step of the way. He worked you from sunrise to breakfast, then again from dusk until nightfall.

It had been your routine for the past two weeks, and with every session, your power and control grew stronger. You could now detain a being with nothing but your mind, could bound and gag with vines and soil. This session, however, was different. Because it wasn’t just vines that wrapped across Cassian’s arms and legs and torso.

This time, the vines had thorns. And they pierced his skin deeper with every movement he made.

It had taken an additional two weeks to get to this point. Two weeks of introducing the Inner Circle to your magic, of slowly allowing them past the protective walls your abilities offered. You no longer had to keep your distance from your friends and family. It appeared the only time your magic attacked on its own was when you were startled or afraid.

You’d been at it for sixty minutes already, your brows dotted with sweat. Rhysand continued to slowly pace the training ring atop the House of Wind. Feyre stood off to the side, a towel in one hand and a glass of water in the other. Nesta watched from beside her, arms crossed against her generous chest as she squinted at the way her mate seethed in discomfort.

So far, Cassian had not been able to break free from your bindings, nor had he been able to move a single muscle more than an itch. And Rhysand was more than impressed.

“Good,” he complimented, a noticeably proud smile on his face. At that, you slowly released your power and took a heaving breath of relief. The vines lazily slithered from Cassian’s body, the thorns leaving scratches in their wake that healed almost immediately.

“You’re presenting incredible control. Tomorrow, I’d like for you to make those thorns bigger. And by next week, I’d like to see if you can implement a slow releasing toxin or poison.”

Cassian widened his eyes at his High Lord. “I’m not volunteering for that.”

A smile found your lips as you took a few breaths to settle your lungs again. You had never expected training to be this rewarding. Rhysand was nothing but attentive to your powers and how they worked. He made sure you felt comfortable with everything you tried and he never once tried to push you beyond your limits.

When you expressed you first wished to harness your power in a defensive way, he was more than happy to oblige. He agreed that perhaps it would be the best way to learn control, and then you could go down the route of healing, learning how to harness it for remediation, too.

And Cassian… well you were unsure if you would ever be able to thank Cassian for the trust he had for you. To allow your wild magic to bind and hurt him, not knowing if you could reign it back if it got too much.

Rhysand chuckled at his brother. “We’ll work something out.”

If it were Rhys, he’d practice on one of Azriel’s prisoners—draw out their pain and suffering with toxins and thorns. It would make a great interrogation tactic. But it wasn’t him. It was you. And Rhysand was not prepared to present that situation or idea to you. Not unless you came to him and it was exclusively your suggestion.

For now, he would figure out another way.

And Elain had told him as much before she and Lucien left just a week ago, claiming she had to reason to remain. You were safe, you would learn control. And she would visit after her and Lucien’s travels.

Feyre approached with a glass of water, handing it to you and dabbing your damp skin with the towel. From his seat across from you, Cassian gawked and scoffed playfully. “I didn’t realise Y/N was the one to be bound and pricked for an hour.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Illyrian baby. As if you haven’t endured worse.”

Despite the chuckle leaving your lips, you still offered him the rest of your water, which he happily took with a cheeky wink. You returned the sentiment with a half-smile, your body still struggling to recover from the energy the session took from you.

As much as you were enjoying it—honing your power and taking control—you couldn’t help but yearn for more. You understood the strength of your mothers magic was enhanced by your fathers Fae heritage, and you had been practicing winnowing with Mor whenever she had the time to spare…but your mother…

“I’d like to learn more about witchcraft.”

All eyes turned to you, some wide, some weary. You cleared your throat, shifted your weight from one foot to another. “As thankful as I am for this—and as much as I am enjoying it—I’d like to learn the other side, too. Rituals, spells…”

No one spoke. You met Rhysand’s eyes and something akin to regret was lit. Your shoulders slacked at the sight. “None of us are exactly versed in witchcraft. And it has been a long while since I’ve met a witch who doesn’t feel inclined to eat me.”

An attempt at a joke, you understood, but it did not relieve any of your disappointment. Three weeks ago, Madja had confirmed that out of all of your cousins, Elain was the only one to share similar markers in her hair and blood as you. Markers of wiccan ancestry. Rhysand had been the one to suggest Elain’s presence and similar magic may have been what awoke you.

It had been known that when she was tossed into that Cauldron, it took something from her. Through Madja’s research, she was led to believe it had taken that power and replaced it with her Fae abilities—keeping that nature element but changing its course completely.

Which meant you were alone. With barely any clue where your ancestry stemmed from, it was useless to even ask. But your mother had been a healing earth witch, that much you were certain of. Surely there had to be books somewhere, even if just to intrigue you until Madja concluded the rest of her research.

“Gwyn may be able to help,” Nesta spoke.

You turned to her. Yes, you’d heard of the young priestess, a fellow Valkyrie of Nesta’s. Your cousin had told you much about her position in the library within the House. Yet that was as far as your knowledge on her went.

Still, it awoke that small shred of hope within you. Hope that one day you could feel close to your mother again.

Azriel took a sip of his tea, lounging back at the dining table as he watched Cassian shovel heaps of eggs and bacon into his mouth. The shadowsinger couldn’t help but quirk a brow at his brother. Cassian had always eaten like a starved male, but this… Azriel was certain it had been minutes since he stopped to take a breath.

“It’s not going anywhere,” Azriel quipped above the rim of his mug but Cassian did not slow. He chewed as his gaze met his brothers and spoke through a mouthful of his breakfast. “You let Y/N bind you with her vines and prick thorns into your skin for a solid hour, then you can comment on my eating habits.”

A smirk kissed at the corners of Azriel’s lips at the thought. He would be more than willing to allow his body to you for practice. Though he wasn’t sure he’d want an audience. Especially not with how his scent was already beginning to shift at the thought alone.

Gods, after four weeks of tasting you and touching you, he should have his hormones under control by now. But he was no better than any other Illyrian brute. He was starved for you all hours of the day—completely insatiable. He had never experienced such hunger before. It was completely overpowering.

The sound of Cassian’s plate sliding across the table broke him from the sinful thoughts, and he looked at his brother who now seethed. “Really, Az? While I’m eating my breakfast?”

Azriel’s smirk faded as his brows rose, taking a sip of his tea. “Are you forgetting about the time Nesta was choking on your cock, right before I was about to eat my dinner?”

Heat rushed to the apples of Cassian’s cheeks, not from embarrassment, but from the thought of his brother seeing his mate in such a compromising position. And not because he did not trust Azriel, but because he knew that at one point, Nesta had considered the shadowsinger for herself.

The general cleared his throat and shifted, attempting to reign in that mated protectiveness. “What’s the deal with you and Y/N anyways?”

Azriel took another sip of his tea. “What do you mean?”

Cassian scoffed. Azriel always did that. Played dumb or completely ignored any conversation when it came to his love life or bedroom habits. “I hear you both, going into each other's rooms at night,” Cassian admitted, “you’re not sneaky.”

Azriel hid his smirk behind his mug. “Not trying to be.”

The general's eyes squinted. He was used to his brother deflecting, ignoring. He was not used to him being so truthful and open, despite him only saying four words in response, Azriel did not deny his involvement with you.

“You like her?”

Azriel remained quiet, watching Cassian with a blank expression.

“She’s been through a lot,” Cassian probed, noting the way Az’s grip on the mug tightened.

“I know,” he got out.

“And this is all pretty new to her… I imagine it's very overwhelming, too.”

Azriel narrowed his eyes. “What are you getting at?”

Cassian shrugged, slouching back in his chair as he crossed thick arms over his muscular chest. “Nothing. She’s grown a lot since coming here, and she’s growing more every day. I wouldn’t want her to feel like she’s just a secret to you.”

Raw pain sliced through Azriel’s chest at his words. He knew you did not feel that way, knew you were always so open and honest and comfortable with him. Yet Cassian’s words still stung. He could have brushed his brother off, claiming he didn’t know what he was talking about. But that would mean downplaying what he felt for you.

And he was not prepared to even entertain the idea of that.

“We’re not keeping anything a secret.”

Cassian smirked. “So there is something going on.”

Azriel finished the rest of his tea, set it on the table and a scarred finger traced the rim of the mug as he considered his next words. He did not have words to describe what continued to bloom between the two of you. Longing stares, subtle touches, heavy kisses and passionate intimacy until the early hours of the morning.

And yet you had not crossed that line, not with him. He would not rush you, would not pressure you. Azriel accepted anything you offered and gave back everything in return.

“She’s been through a lot,” he repeated Cassian’s earlier words, “I want her to understand that she’ll never have to experience that type of control ever again.”

Cassian did not need to ask anything further. Partly because he understood what Azriel was insinuating—that he was allowing you to set the pace and decide whatever you were—and the other part because it was not his place to press for more information. It was your life, your story and your trauma. He would not invade your privacy like that.

Cassian respected you far too much.

So, he nodded his head, pulled back his plate of breakfast and heaped another spoonful of eggs into his mouth. He would not push on the matter, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t toy with his brother a little.

“Y/N mentioned she wanted to learn some witchcraft. You know, spells and rituals that her mother might’ve used.” Azriel hummed, gaze fixed on the table. Cassian bit back his smirk. “Nesta suggested taking a look in the library for some old books. Gwyn’s going to help.”

Azriel’s eyes snapped to Cassian’s, his face paling just slightly. Bingo.

The shadowsinger swallowed. “When?”

Cassian ate another spoonful. “They’re already down there now.”

Azriel did not bid his brother a goodbye before his shadows guided him to the library doors within the House. His heart was thumping against his chest, an anxiety like no other streaming through his veins. He was yet to tell you about his infatuation with Mor, his brief involvement with Elain, and he had not yet disclosed the same about Gwyn.

The last thing he wanted was for you to hear anything outside of anyone else’s mouths. It was for him to explain. No one else.

He entered the library quietly, dismissing his shadows so as to not fright the priestesses. He passed Clotho first, offering a subtle nod in greeting before sauntering further into the dim library.

Perhaps Azriel should have mentioned this place to you sooner. Despite your love for books, maybe knowing this place was available could have helped with your healing. But you had done so well without it, and Azriel had very selfishly enjoyed every moment of your presence.

It did not take long to find you, your scent still lingering in the air and he followed that trail to one of the higher levels. There was where he found you. Alone, eyes gleaming in happiness as you looked through the archives of rituals and witchcraft. You already had two books in your arms and Azriel did not hesitate to take them from you as he approached.

His presence took you by surprise, only for a moment and you offered a wide smile, your chest feeling warm. As it often did when you spent time with the shadowsinger.

“Az… what are you doing here?” you asked in a way of greeting.

He held booth books in one arm and offered a grin at the nickname you’d taken to calling him. Gods, he had only seen you yesterday evening and yet it felt as if it had been days. You looked even more beautiful today, the gentle glow of Fae lights casting over your skin. Though he could notice a hint of exhaustion in your eyes, likely from your training with Cassian and Rhysand.

Az stepped closer. “Cass mentioned you were down here looking for some grimoires. Thought I’d offer some help.”

You squinted your eyes at him playfully, cocking your head to the side. “Didn’t Cassian tell you that Nesta was with me? And Gwyn?”

Colour stained his cheeks. “Yes. But an extra set of eyes and hands never hurt.” He looked around then, in search of his brother's mate and the young priestess that he had saved those few years ago. “Where are they anyway? Nesta and Gwyn.”

You shrugged, returning to look at the bookcase before you. “Nesta wanted to look at some romance novels, Gwyn mentioned she saved a secret stash of the smutty ones for her.”

You did not mention the way the priestess had looked at you with guilt or embarrassment when Nesta told her Azriel was quite fond of you. Your cousin did not need to say anything for you to understand. There had clearly been something there in the past, something Gwyn felt wrong for. She had no reason to.

But you did not speak those thoughts to her. Instead, you offered a beaming genuine smile and thanked her for offering her assistance. You had promised to come and visit the library again, and had suggested bringing lunch next time.

It was clear to her that her past involvement with the shadowsinger did nothing to sour your current one. And she was more than thankful for it.

“And you’re not interested? In the smutty novels, I mean.”

You turned to Azriel with a smirk, a knowing gaze in your eyes. He mirrored it, cheekily. Gods, he would never fail to make you melt beneath that hungry stare. “Something else has been keeping my interest instead.”

A grin, and then, “I’d like to keep your interest tonight, if you’ll let me?”

You quirked a brow, the books long forgotten as you faced the handsome male before you. “Oh? And what did you have in mind?”

Everything with Azriel had felt so easy in the past weeks. Even this, the flirty… it seemed to fall naturally between you both. Never once had you experienced an uncomfortable silence or nervous pause.

It felt right.

Az closed the distance between you, reaching a gloved hand for your waist as he leaned down to brush his nose against yours. “I was thinking of taking you to the Rainbow… more specifically, to the theatre.”

A grin spread across your full lips. “Really?” Your excitement was palpable, and Azriel had no doubt that if his shadows were here now, they’d buzz around your small frame with adoration.

He nodded, planting a slow kiss to your mouth. Your lips puckered against his, following his lead. There had been more of this since that fruitful night he touched you at the townhouse.

Kisses and touches when you were alone, lingering glances when in the presence of others. Often, your nights were spent with him, in his bed or yours, in the private library or in the gardens.

You had allowed him to touch you, taste you… he had allowed you to do the same. Azriel had given you full control over every situation, every interaction. Whatever this was between you, you could not get enough.

“I’d like that,” you whispered into the kiss, feeling his mouth stretch into a smile before he kissed you once more.

You leaned into him, melting under his attentive touch when someone cleared their throat and he gently broke his mouth from yours. Nesta stood to the side, a pile of books in her arms and a brow quirked.

But Gwyn… she did nothing to hide her grin, the flush of her cheeks or the happiness that glimmered in her teal eyes. You knew she knew of your story, your trauma. And you knew her happiness came from a place of understanding.

Understanding what it took to break through the past and live in the present. To move on. To heal.

“Need I remind you that this is a library, not a brothel.”

You rolled your eyes at your cousin. “You best scamper off with those books then, Ness.”

She scowled at you playfully when Gywn breathed a choked laugh. Azriel watched her then, his body stiffening just slightly before you. But enough for you to notice, to feel it.

“It’s good to see you, Azriel.” She offered politely.

He dipped his head. “And you, Gwyn. Thank you for helping Y/N with the grimoires.” She brushed him off with a waving hand and turned her bright attention to you with a smile.

Azriel felt his tension slowly dissipate, watching the way you both seemed to communicate with your eyes alone. You knew, he could tell. And you did not think of him any differently.

Not one bit.

The play was wonderful. Well, as much of the first half that you had seen. By the time the curtain pulled for a short break, Azriel’s hands had begun to wander. Beginning on your knee and ending between your thighs.

He had gotten you seats in Rhysand’s private booth. And when darkness shrouded the theater during the interval, his shadows encompassed you both to hide you away from the public.

His lips were hot on yours, his tongue licking sensually against your own. Your small hand had wrapped around his thick shaft, pumping the way you had grown to know he liked. And his fingers curled deliciously at that spongy spot within you.

You did not stop when the curtain opened and the play resumed. Neither did he. Azriel had instead lowered to his knees and pried you thighs open, rolling up the fabric of your dress as he stared into your soul.

Then his mouth was on your aching cunt and your head was rolling back against your seat. His tongue worked meticulously, licking and swirling, his mouth closing to create suction on your throbbing clit.

Your fingers curled into his hair, tugging at the roots and fingernails scratching at his scalp. The first time Azriel had tasted you, he had you reach that high three times before stopping. And every time since, he had done the same.

Though this time, you knew you had to keep quiet. Your spare hand covered your mouth, your teeth biting at the palm of your hand to stifle the moans and whines that threatened to escape.

Your hips bucked into his face, his guttural hum sending vibrations through your veins. He was a starved male when it came to you, and you feared you would never get used to that hunger.

His fingers continued to pummel into your cunt, curling and scissoring to stretch you deliciously. The sounds were obscene, wet and quiet but everything was far too amplified. You only hoped his shadows could also offer some form of soundproofing, too.

“Az…” you barely managed to whisper, forcing your eyes open to watch him.

He was already looking at you, his pupils so blown in arousal that you could sparsely see the honey you loved so much. You had never experienced such desire before. Even in the other times you had been intimate with him, it never felt as strong or as dire as this.

Because this had you wanting to damn any consequences. Damn any trauma you had once experienced. You wanted him, every part of his body and mind and soul. You wanted to feel his thick cock stretch you out, fill you until you were crying and pleading for him to ravage you.

You’d never once felt such primal need, and Azriel noticed the shift in your scent. Noticed how it changed from arousal to a diabolical sense of unravelling. You’d never looked at him with such ferocity before.

And Azriel feared he would lay down his life in that moment, if you so asked.

You tightened around his fingers, your legs trembled. You bit down harder on your palm as undiluted pleasure seized your body. As you cried silently, as your thighs shut tight around his head. As he sucked on your clit at the same time his tongue rubbed against it.

You came harder than you ever had before. And by the way you heaved a breath through your nose, you knew Azriel had reached his high with you.

With his hand fisting his long cock and his pleasure dripped down his scarred fingers. Perhaps it was that hunger that remained that had you reaching for him… that had you guiding those fingers to your mouth as you cleaned his come with your tongue.

He mirrored your actions, removing his digits from your cunt and stuffing them into his own mouth to suck them clean. You watched one another, chests heaving as your pussy throbbed and Azriel’s cock twitched.

You’d go again, you’d force him into that chair and straddle him, sink down on him until he was buried so deep within you, you didn’t know where you ended and he began.

And Azriel appeared to have sensed your thoughts and shook his head. He pulled his fingers from his mouth, but you kept his in yours. “Not here. I won’t take you for the first time in the fucking theatre.”

A grin spread across your lips and you released his fingers, now clean as the faint salty taste of him stained your tongue.

You batted your lashes down at him. “What if I asked nicely?”

He huffed through his nose, though a smile graced his face. “Don’t tempt me. You deserve more than that.”

Your expression softened at the kindness of his words. He always knew what to say, his actions always followed his verbal promises. Another thing you had never experienced before. But Azriel seemed to take pleasure in showing you how you should be treated.

“You deserve everything,” he whispered.

You reached for him then, for the knitted wool of his sweater and he followed your lead when you met him in a searing kiss. No words could convey what this male was beginning to mean to you. How strongly you felt for him.

“I only want you.”

Azriel’s heart remained steady, despite his mind's racing. He would give himself to you in a heartbeat. All you had to do was ask.

He was about to tell you as much, when a gentle call of his name sounded in his mind. Azriel took a brief moment to compose himself before allowing his High Lord into his mind.

Apologies for interrupting. He purred. Azriel fought the urge to roll his eyes. But Madja has concluded her research. She’d like to speak with us, we’re awaiting your return.

You noticed the distant look on his eyes, the one he only sported when Rhysand called for him. Your stomach dropped slightly, not ready to end the night just yet. But the smile on Azriel’s lips suggested it would not be for the worst.

“Madja has some information to share. They’re waiting for us at the House.”

He had winnowed you almost immediately to the bottom of the ten thousand stairs. Only then did he take a moment to fix both of your flushed appearances and plant a tender kiss to your mouth.

He had flown you both to the balcony, gently settling you to your feet. Though your arm remained looped with his as you walked into the House proper, where Rhysand, Feyre, Cassian and Nesta awaited with Madja.

The elder healer offered a smile in greeting as you entered the lounge, and your arm slipped from Azriel’s.

“You will be pleased to know that I have finally exhausted all avenues for this research. I have some interesting things that I think would help and that I’d like to share.”

Your heart thundered in anticipation. By the look in Madja’s eyes, you knew you were about to learn everything. She set three old books onto the table, their pages thick and discoloured. They must be at least five centuries old, but you would not be shocked if their age preceded that.

“I finally managed to trace your heritage back to your ancestors through your blood and hair samples.” She paused, as if waiting for everyone’s undivided attention.

“You are a direct descendent of Mother Garmelhia. She was High Witch of the Elesendray coven—a coven of earth witches. They were healers, though through her blood, the abilities were not always passed down to the offspring. Your mother was the first in two centuries to present these gifts. Her sister—” she turned to Nesta and Feyre, “—your mother did not possess such abilities. Elain inherited a drop of those gifts, which the Cauldron quickly took, but you—” Madja looked to you again, “—you are blessed with the rawest form. The same as your mothers, but stronger.”

There was no hiding the silver than lined your eyes. A storm of emotions clouded your vision, your mind. Your mother… your beautiful mother…

“For some their abilities lay dormant until something triggered it. For example, Elain’s did not trigger until forced into the Cauldron, and even then, her power had shifted when Made Fae.”

You processed her words, everything made sense. Your magic had been buried so deep within you, with your mothers mark. But you wondered if your power would have shown had she not glamoured it.

“So mine triggered the moment I passed the wall into Prythian?” you asked.

Madja’s tight lips quirked to the side as if in thought. “It would appear something happened when you passed through. And with your Fae heritage from your father, that would have also played a part. Do you remember exactly when something felt differently?”

Your mind carried you back to that night, when Nesta took your hand in hers and guided you past that shimmering veil. When you were shoved to the ground and your hands touched the grass for the first time. You shared a look with your cousin, cocking her head to the side as if she was also trying to pinpoint it.

“Um… right after we passed through. After that creature attacked us. Everything felt clearer, but still slightly hazy. I could sense things but I didn’t know what. I thought it was just because the land held magic…”

Rhys took a step closer, his hands stuffed into his pant pockets. There was a gleam in his eyes, one that demanded more. “Did you find anything else?”

Madja nodded, reaching for the top book of the pile and flipping it open to a random page. Indeed, the book was old, yet it somehow held the scent of something you had never come across before. Something slightly familiar, yet not at all.

“Yes… have you ever heard of soul-ties?”

Something in your stomach almost exploded. Azriel took a curious step closer, eyes scanning the pages but they were all in ancient tongue—one that Madja clearly spoke or at least understood.

When nobody replied, Madja went on. “Within the Elesendray coven, and many others in history, soul-ties were the equivalent of a mating bond. Through the brief history I could find, it is said that a witches soul calls to another. Not just any soul. The other half of theirs.”

“So… like a soul-mate?” Cassian piped up.

Madja nodded and she did not break your gaze. She knew something, something you did not.

“What does that have to do with my abilities?”

“It doesn’t. Not directly at least. But it is also said that when a witch finds their soul-tie and their souls are merged whole again, it is a tether so unbreakable that it exceeds even the strength of a Fae mating bond. And unlike the Fae mating bonds, if a witch does not accept their soul-tie, they will cease to exist entirely.”

Everything went silent and your heart refused to beat.

“What are you saying?” Nesta’s tone was not one to play with.

But Madja took a breath and laid a withering hand over the page Azriel could not take his eyes off. “I believe you have found your soul-tie, Y/N.”

No. There was no way. You didn’t dare look at Azriel. You couldn’t. You didn’t know what it was that grew between you, you did not know where you stood in that sense. But the relationship you had ran deep. Deep enough for you to fear losing whatever he was to you.

You begged your power not to act, begged it not to show the fear that began to cripple you. You had already once been bound to a man you did not love, a man that did not love you. You would not be forced into it again, with a powerful male this time who could do unimaginable things if he wished.

You stuffed that fear so far down you almost choked on it. “How do I know who my soul-tie is? I didn’t think there were any other witches in Velaris?”

“It doesn’t have to be a witch.” Madja’s eyes bore into your very spirit. “A soul-tie would be someone who endured the same agony as you to trigger an ability, to become who they were fated to become. Nothing is by chance, the Mother forges what is meant to be. Especially for witches.”

You were too overwhelmed, scared. “But passing through the wall triggered my powers? Who else would have done that?”

You were in denial, refusing to believe that this was to be your fate. But it was Rhysand who took a step closer, his lips parted and eyes clouded.

“You always had your power, passing through the wall just awoke your senses, because of your Fae father. Your mother’s magic was truly triggered when we burned your mark.”

You watched as Rhysand’s eyes drifted to Azriel, to his hands. Your lungs seized, your chest ached. You could not look at him, could not dare meet his desperate gaze when a lone shadow slinked to your hand and weaved between your fingers.

“Holy Gods,” Feyre breathed.

Azriel remained still, aloof. For if he moved even an inch, he was sure to crumble. He knew. At that moment, he knew. He’d always had his suspicions, even when you were human. His soul called to yours. The missing half of him.

Rhysand came closer again. “When your stepbrothers burned your hands when you were a child, when you were locked away, your ability to wield shadows was triggered.”

Shadowsinger.

You stared at his hands—those beautiful hands. You had not known of Azriel’s story, had not ever wanted to pry. You never felt the need to ask, never considered his hands were anything abnormal. His step-brothers had burned them. He was a child.

And your magic… burning the mark to set it free…

It was silent for too long, like it was some sick dream and joke and the Mother only ever intended for you to experience pain and agony in your life. But it made far too much sense for it to not be true.

You had never felt so at ease with anyone before. Had never experienced such comfort and safety than in his arms. You did not need to pretend with Azriel, you did not need to hide or apologise. You just existed. And that was enough for him.

Because you didn’t feel a change when you passed through the wall, when that creature died. You felt it when you heard something in the sky. When you heard Azriel.

You dared a glance at him then, at the male you were destined to be with. The one the Mother made for you. The other half of your soul. His beautiful hazel eyes stared at you with such unyielding clarity, like every ounce of pain he had ever endured was worth it. Because it brought him to this moment. To you.

It almost seemed too good to be true. That he was for you. That he was your fate. Yet your mind would not allow one single negative thought to grow. No seeds of doubt planted, not even one. Because your soul knew, you knew.

You had no fear in that moment, staring at him. For Azriel’s own eyes mirrored your every thought. For this first time in his life, he truly felt worthy. His mind did not allow his past to dictate if he deserved that happiness. His heart did not allow a beat to falter out of place. Steady, calm. Yet a storm raged in his soul. As it had done for the past eight weeks in your presence.

Nothing in his life had ever felt so right before. So meant to be. He damned himself a fool for his past behaviours, for ever chasing or entertaining the idea of another.

Azriel had never truly understood what it felt like to have a home. Not until Rhysand’s mother took him in. But even then, he felt he did not deserve such kindness, that the Mother did not grant him a home of his own for a reason.

He had always deemed himself unworthy, such a fragile mindset had taken over his entire life.

But she granted him you. A friend, a lover, a connection so strong it exceeded even his brothers’ bonds. A soul-tie. The literal missing half of him. He had felt honor many times in his life, had felt wanted and needed and appreciated.

But up until this moment, he had never felt worthy.

He did not shy from your gaze, from his family watching the scene unfold. He took a step closer as a tear slid down your warm cheek. His soul sang for yours, bellowed and beckoned and begged. That’s what that feeling had been. His soul had been yearning to reunite with yours the whole time.

“I do not know how much time you’ll have if the soul-tie is not accepted.” Madja broke through the silence softly.

Azriel took a step closer, almost reaching you. He shook his head. “That is not something to worry about.”

Your chest ached, your throat burned. You could not look away from him—did not want to. If you had, you would’ve noticed the lack of your family. Would have seen them fade into the shadows with such admiration and happiness in their eyes as they left to give you both privacy.

Madja had remained, though neither of you offered your attention. She smiled to herself, and piled the books atop one another again. “When you wish to accept the soul-tie, there is a ritual you must follow. I will be happy to guide you when you are ready.” Her words were white noise in your ears as she retreated.

You were almost shrouded in darkness now, Azriel’s shadows working to cocoon you both in a haze of privacy. Words failed you, unable to conjure even a sentence. He was so beautiful, gazing at you with such longing, as if you’d singlehandedly placed the stars in the sky.

He was closer now, the toes of his shoes mere inches from yours. You could feel his warm breath on your face, feel a scarred hand reach to cup your jaw and his thumb brushed gently across your cheekbone. You melted into his touch, fighting to keep your eyes on him.

“Hi,” you breathed.

A wide smile pulled at the corners of his full lips, a row of white teeth peeking through. Your heart trembled. This beautiful male was yours. Yours.

“You want this?” He was not asking for clarity, no. Azriel had no doubt in his mind. But he would be damned if he did not make it clear that you still had a choice. No matter what, you would always have a choice.

Your head bobbed in confirmation, a smile of your own tugging at your mouth now. Azriel grinned wider, the tip of his nose bumping yours.

“Yeah?” he asked in a whisper, and you were giddy with excitement.

Your eyes fluttered closed as your mouth met his. A kiss so tender and soft that your souls hummed in unity. Azriel did not need to look at you to know that flora had tangled in the strands of your hair, in the strands of his.

Time seemed to stand still as you kissed him. And the realisation that he would get to do this with you forever… Well, it was something that finally made him thankful for his step-brother's cruelty.

Because what a beautiful thing it was for this to be his fate.

a/n: so confession time... i truly was considering ending the series here and letting you guys decide for yourselves what they had to do for the ritual of accepting the soul-tie, AND THEN i had the most beautiful idea for it. there will be one final part to this series and potential future check-in blurbs later down the line. i cannot thank you guys enough for the amount of love you have shown this series, i have loved every moment of crafting and writing it and i hope you have enjoyed it just the same x

if you enjoyed it, please consider giving it a like and reblog, your feedback is always appreciated <3

TAG LIST FOR THE SERIES IS CLOSED, PLEASE DO NOT ASK TO BE ADDED!!

#gitw #azriel smut #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel imagine #azriel oneshot #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar imagine #azriel angst #azriel fluff #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar fluff #acotar angst #acotar #acotar oneshot #acotar smut

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persevereforahappyending · 2 days ago

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A Legacies Regret |4|

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You were living in New York with your girlfriend, trying to forget about last year and just enjoy life, but that was easier said than done. (Sequel to A Legacies Secret)

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 2.5k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | A Legacies Secret Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Tara let her head fall back, opting to just glare at the ceiling. After Ghostface attacked, an officer had taken their statements then ordered Tara herself, you, and Sam into the back of a police cruiser. The cop brought all of you to the station and then stuck all three of you in the same interrogation room. Tara wasn’t sure why they needed to be interrogated; they were the ones attacked after all. That was beside the point though because they had been there for hours without anyone coming to check on them, let alone question them.

Tara was sitting in the middle with you on one side of her and Sam on the other side. Sam was in a similar position as her, rolling her head back and forth, trying to not lose her mind as the three of you waited for some cop to come in and tell you how they intend to catch this guy, even though Tara was sure they would fail, no matter what plan they came up with. You on the other hand had your head down your chin resting on your chest with your eyes closed. You had a long night at work, then Tara got herself in trouble and made you come out to search for her, you got barely a few hours of sleep on an uncomfortable couch, then you got attacked by Ghostface, and now you were sitting in a police station.

Tara glanced down at your bandaged arm, you had worse, so much worse, but Tara couldn’t peel her eyes away from the blood already soaking through. The paramedic had offered, strongly encouraged really, that you go to the hospital, but you had denied them. Ghostface hadn’t even been back a full day and you were already hurt. You didn’t even hesitate to knock the shelf over, just to buy Tara and Sam more time to escape, even though your knee was already causing you so much pain.

Tara furrowed her brow as she watched a pained expression cross your face right before you began shifting in your seat. You opened your eyes and readjusted yourself with a grimace. “Are you okay?” Tara asked. She was sure it was a stupid question; Sam said your knee bothered you regularly and you just put a ton of strain on it trying to protect them.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, though it wasn’t very convincing. “Just need rest,” you closed your eyes again. “And ice.” Tara nodded, though she was still unsure. Still, if you said all you needed was rest and ice, then she would make sure to get that for you, as soon as they could get back to the apartment, she would make sure you were comfortable in bed, prop your knee up with all the pillows, and get all the ice, making sure to change it as soon as it seemed like it was melting.

“This Ghostface-” Sam started.

“Don’t,” you instantly cut her off. “Not here,” you flicked your eyes to a corner of the room.

Tara followed your line of sight and saw a camera in the top corner of the room with a little blinking red light. Tara slumped back in her chair, they were already being recorded, not to mention the giant mirror, which was as probably actually two-way glass like in all the movies. She wondered if whoever was in charge was standing behind the mirror, just watching them this whole time. Sam seemed to agree with you because she just nodded and crossed her arms as she slumped back against her own chair.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting,” a man said, finally entering the room. All three of you looked up and Tara couldn’t help but furrow her brow, the man was Quinn’s father.

“So, our roommates dad just happened to pull our case?” Sam questioned. Tara raised her brow and saw you narrow your eyes at Bailey. It would be one hell of a coincidence if that were the case.

“No, my buddy did,” Bailey explained with a smile, but it did nothing to ease Tara’s suspicion. “But he offered it to me when it involved my daughters’ roommates.”

“Don’t you think that’s a conflict of interest?” You asked. You tilted; you had that look in your eye, the one you got when you were suspicious of someone’s motives.

“I could give it back to him if you want,” Bailey offered, giving another slightly awkward smile.

Tara watched you and Sam share a look. Tara didn’t know whether Bailey being on the case would be helpful or harmful, she knew why the two of you were suspicious, so she’d follow your lead in whatever the two of you decided. If Bailey was involved somehow then part of Tara wanted him nowhere near you and her friends, but another part of her knew the saying of keep your friend close and your enemies closer.

“It’s fine,” Sam finally decided.

“Great,” Bailey said. “Let’s start off with where you were last night?”

“I was at work most of the night,” you answered.

“And I was in therapy,” Sam said.

“Frat party,” Tara added.

“Then Sam and I got home about the same time,” you continued. “And quickly left to find Tara.”

“Which they did,” Tara couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the memory.

“And can others corroborate that?” Bailey asked.

“Yeah, we were with our friends Chad, Mindy, Ethan and Anika,” Sam said.

“I’m sure we made quite the impression to everyone at the party as well,” you added. Tara flicked a glare at you as you silently smiled to yourself, even though she herself also wanted to laugh.

Bailey furrowed his brow and looked at you questioningly. “I might have tased someone,” Sam said. Bailey opened and closed his mouth a few times as if he were surprised by this. Tara wasn’t sure why, he’d met Sam plenty of times, he knew how she was. “Completely warranted,” Sam crossed her arms, clearly feeling no sympathy for tasing Frankie, not that Tara cared about him either.

“Right,” Bailey said slowly. “Moving on, is there anyone you can think of who would want to kill you? Any of you have any enemies you can think of?”

“None who are alive,” Tara said with a shrug.

Bailey’s eyes widened at that. “And enemies?” you asked. “Half the internet,” you gestured with your hand. “Someone started some bullshit about what happened last year and how Sam was secretly behind it,” you rolled your eyes.

Tara couldn’t help but smile when she looked at you. You and Sam might not have been best friends, but you had been sticking up for her since all the Reddit posts came out. You were there and obviously knew the truth about what happened but you were also always one of the first to defend Sam if everyone was out and some stranger tried to say something to her.

“You were the prime suspect last year,” Bailey said, directing his attention to you. “Isn’t that, right?”

“And she was innocent,” Tara snapped, she wouldn’t let someone accuse you again. She never listened to any of the accusations last year and she always defended you, but she could have done more, she wouldn’t let anyone try and think the worst of you.

“Of course,” Bailey smiled; it was clear he was just trying to diffuse the tension though. “Just want to go over all the facts.”

“The facts are, some psycho is trying to kill us for some reason that only makes sense to their fucked-up mind.” Tara crossed her arms and glared across the table at Bailey. She went through this last year, and she wasn’t about to entertain this as anything less this time around.

Bailey opened his mouth to say something else but was interrupted by a knock at the door. “The FBI is here,” an officer said, poking his head in.

“What?” Bailey asked. “Why are they here?”

Bailey grumbled and quickly ran out of the room. Tara looked from her sister to you, and it seemed all of you agreed not to wait around. Tara wasn’t an expert, but she was well aware the police couldn’t hold any of you unless they were charging you and they had nothing to charge you with.

“Let’s go,” Sam mumbled.

Everyone got up and made their way out of the interrogation room. Tara glanced back to make sure you were still there as the three of you made your way through the police station. “Kirby?” Sam asked, stopping as she passed by one of the rooms.

“Sam?” someone asked. When they came out of the room Tara saw it was Kirby Reed, she used to go to school with Sam and was part of the 2011 Ghostface attacks. “Tara,” Kirby nodded at her. Her eyes paused on you, and she tilted her head as she took you in. “You must be Y/N,” she held out her hand. “Kirby Reed.”

“Yeah,” you mumbled but shook Kirby’s hand. “You’re with the FBI?”

Kirby nodded. “I’ve been investigating any and all things related to Ghostface.” You let out a curious hum. “Was already tracking your classmates,” she pointed at Tara. “When I got notified of their murder, then of the attack last night.”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “That’s why we’re getting the hell out of town.” Sam turned to walk away without even a goodbye.

“Wait,” Kirby jogged to catch up with Sam. “You can’t leave town.” Sam rolled her eyes and gave Kirby a disbelieving look. Tara still wasn’t fully okay with just abandoning her education and running away but even she couldn’t believe Kirby was telling them to stick around. “This is still an active investigation.” Tara rolled her eyes, even though none of them were being charged they were still being treated like suspects.

“Whatever,” Sam mumbled. She pulled out her phone and Tara held her breath as she waited to see who had messaged Sam. “It’s Mindy.” Tara released the breath, she was sure Chad and Mindy were freaking out, no one had talked to them since they called to warn Sam about Ghostface being back. “She wants us to meet them at the school to go over suspects.”

“Great,” you mumbled. Tara looked back at you and her gaze softened, she knew everyone ganged up on you last year when they were going over suspects. Tara still felt bad at the fact that she insisted on you going to the meet up and then you not only got accused of being a murderer but also got attacked.

Tara wrapped her arms around your waist to try and bring you a little comfort while Sam continued to talk to Kirby. Once Sam agreed that none of you would leave town Kirby allowed all of you to leave. The three of you made your way to the front doors and Tara could already hear the crowd on the others side and see the flashing lights of cameras. She subconsciously curled into your side, and you put your arm around her shoulder in a protective embrace, almost like it was a reflex, before the three of you opened the doors and stepped outside.

Tara was tucked under your arm as the three of you pushed your way out of the police station. It seemed word had definitely gotten out about Ghostface being behind the attacks and now reporters were surrounding the station, screaming questions at the three of you. Tara thought last year was bad, with the amount of people calling every day, all of them trying to get a quote and ask for her side of the story.

Tara could hear her name being called from all directions, but she did as Sam told her and kept her head down and her eyes forward. Despite whatever was going on with you and her she knew you’d always protect her. You were probably still mad at her and yet your grip around her only tightened as the three of you pushed through the crowd.

Tara couldn’t help but release a breath when the three of you finally broke free of the crowd. “Gale Weathers,” a familiar voice from behind said. Even if Tara didn’t know Gale’s voice, she would have known it was her based on the way your entire body froze. “Channel Four.”

Sam was the first to whip around, Tara could hear the scoff, confirming it was in fact Gale behind them. Tara turned around in your arm, making your arm fall from her shoulder down to her waist, you still had yet to turn around though. Tara gently brushed her fingers across your hand and felt you physical relax. You turned your head first, meeting her gaze and she offered you a soft smile and a squeeze of your hand, it’s the only thing she could do to show she was there for you in that moment.

“Ladies,” Gale said with her typical reporter smile. “Do you think you’re the reason Ghostface is here?” she held the mic out for them to answer.

Sam scoffed and threw a punch. Tara didn’t see it coming but clearly Gale did as she easily dodged it and just came back with a chuckle. “Nice try sweety, but I’ve done this dance before.”

Tara didn’t know what got into her because as soon as those words left Gale’s mouth Tara clenched her fist and swung, clocking Gale right in the jaw, she didn’t see that one coming it seemed. “Stay the hell away from us,” Tara said, glaring at the woman.

Tara intertwined her hand with yours and pulled you away. You hadn’t spoken to Gale since Woodsboro, at least you had not truly spoken to her. You didn’t want a relationship with her and Gale didn’t seem interested in trying. Tara followed after Sam, making sure to not let you go, you still hadn’t said anything since getting out of the interrogation room.

Sam hailed a cab and the three of you piled into the taxi, with you getting in first, then Tara, and finally Sam. Sam slammed the door shut and told the man to take them to Blackmore University. Sam rested her arm against the door and propped up her head on her hand. It seemed like Sam was a little in her head at the moment so to try and give her space Tara directed her attention back to you.

“I’m sorry,” Tara whispered. You looked over at her, your eyebrows pinched together in a silent question. “For the punch.”

Your mouth twitched up into a smile and you lifted your intertwined hands and brought them to your mouth, giving her fingers a soft kiss. Tara couldn’t help but smile, she was sure she was blushing at the action. It was something you had done a thousand times but doing it now, when she clearly didn’t deserve your softness, it almost felt like how the two of you used to be.

“That was a good punch,” you said. “Guess you really don’t need my protection.”

Tara frowned at your sad smile. “I’ll always need you,” she whispered back. She gave your hand another squeeze and your smiled brightened a little. Tara knew she there was still a lot the two of you needed to talk about, a lot she needed to apologize for, but she was going to start by being there for you now and reassuring you whenever she had to.

Taglist: @mamas-evil-hag @thatshyboy1998 @btay3115 @idontliketoread2137 @nwestra

@honorarysimp @canyonyodeler @chxrry-lov3 @aceofspades190 @worstendingever

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x fem!reader #tara carpenter imagine #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #scream #scream 6 #scream vi #a legacies regret

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fear-is-truth · 1 day ago

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𝜗𝜚 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐀𝐄-𝐇𝐎, 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐍𝐀𝐌-𝐆𝐘𝐔

tags ꒱ ˎˊ— ex bf!nam-gyu ‧ dae-ho x reader ‧ angsty ‧ pining ‧ emotional cheating + drabble ᡣ𐭩｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅. synopsis ꒱ ˎˊ— after breaking up with nam-gyu, you move on… or try to.

a/n : requested by the lovely @renjunsbabygirl <𝟑

at first, nam-gyu doesn’t take the breakup seriously. when you left, he convinces himself it’s just a temporary thing—you’re pissed, your pride was wounded, but you’ll come back like you always do. when you move out, he doesn’t bat an eye. he throws himself into his work, partying harder, experimenting with more drugs that keep his mind from thinking too much about you.

he doesn’t text you. doesn’t reach out. it’s not his style to chase—he’s not that desperate. but when he’s alone at night, nam-gyu thinks about you. you’re still there, in the back of his mind. maybe you were the one person who ever made him feel something. and now? you’ve slipped through his fingers. anger is easier to mask than frustration. he hates that he doesn’t know where you are or who you’re with.

at first, he maintains the same cocky, detached front. but in truth, it fucks with him. you letting go? that’s something new. something he didn’t expect. he thought, even after everything, there’d always be a part of you that came back to him. maybe he didn’t deserve it, but he always counted on it.

part of him knew you’d leave eventually. he just didn’t think it would stick. but you’re gone—actually gone. no calls. no texts.

it shouldn’t matter. he works at club pentagon—he’s got girls to distract him, drugs to numb him. at least, that’s what he tells himself.

dae-ho is sweet. hes the epitome of a gentleman; he’s exactly what you need. he listens, he’s patient, and there’s none of the unpredictability that used to make your heart race in fear and lust. he’s everything you wanted in a partner—kind, gentle, and dependable. in a lot of ways, he’s perfect for you.

dae-ho is good to you. better than you ever expected. he’s steady, caring, patient. he listens when you talk, holds you like you’re fragile, because he never wants to be the reason you break. he never makes you earn his affection the way nam-gyu did. there’s no if attached to his love—no tests, no games. it’s so easy.

but sometimes, in fleeting moments, you miss the fire.

it’s not that you want nam-gyu back. you left for a reason. he was never going to change, and you were tired of waiting. but the absence of him is like an itch you can’t reach, a phantom limb. you’ll be lying in bed with dae-ho, his palm warm against your stomach, his breaths even, an indication that he’s halfway to slumber. your mind will drift. you’ll think about the way nam-gyu used to press his nose into the crook of your neck when he was half-asleep and clingy. you’ll remember how his fingers felt wrapped around your wrist, how he’d pull you back in when you tried to leave.

and for a split second, you miss it. but you push it down. you turn over, press your face into dae-ho’s chest, and let him hold you like he always does.

but then there are those moments when you’re lying next to him, and your mind drifts. sometimes, when you’re with dae-ho, you catch yourself thinking about nam-gyu. you never wanted to, but it happens. it’s not that dae-ho isn’t enough—it’s just that there’s something nam-gyu left behind that doesn’t go away, no matter how hard you try.

the way nam-gyu used to touch you, rough edges and fire—when he kissed you, god, it was like he couldn’t get enough, like he wanted to devour you. he used to make you feel alive in a way that was chaotic, messy, and not always good for you, but it was real. he was real. even when you fought, even when it hurt. when you’re with dae-ho, he’s secure, comforting in a way you’ve always craved.

you catch yourself comparing. dae-ho’s kisses are gentle, but nam-gyu’s… they felt like surrender. you think about how he used to pull you close after a fight, pinning you against him as if to say, “i love you, i’m sorry.” you remember how he could ignite something in you with just a look, a teasing touch. and now, with dae-ho, you feel—safe. but not alive in the same way.

there are moments, especially when you’re lying in bed with dae-ho, his arms wrapped around you, where you let yourself forget. you remind yourself this is what love is supposed to feel like, without the pain.

but then, late at night when he’s asleep, you find yourself reaching for your phone. you want to know what nam-gyu’s doing. you want to hear his voice, just to see if it still affects you the way it used to. you feel guilty, but you don’t know how to stop yourself. it’s not that you want to be with him again—it’s just that something inside of you isn’t quite finished with him, and that part of you still holds on.

you don’t miss him. not really.

DAE-HO is everything you could ask for. more, even. he’s steady. thoughtful in ways that you never dreamed in a partner. he calls when he says he will. he actively listens—not just waits for his turn to talk. he’s never made you beg for his attention or prove you deserve it. never made you feel small just so he could feel bigger.

when he touches you, it’s careful. reverent. hands splayed over your back when you straddle his lap, fingers curling at the base of your neck like he wants to hold you there forever. when he kisses you, he takes his time. he makes you feel safe.

so no, you don’t miss NAM-GYU. but sometimes, late at night, with dae-ho’s arm draped over your waist, heat seeping into your skin, you remember.

you remember the weight of nam-gyu’s thigh slotted between yours, the way he’d breathe you in, slow and deep. you remember the way he used to drag his teeth along your jaw before kissing you, half-lazy, half-starving.

you don’t miss him. but there’s a difference between missing someone and missing the way they made you feel. and nam-gyu made you feel like a fucking wildfire.

…

he tells himself he doesn’t care.

you left. your loss.

but then someone tells him you’re with dae-ho. that you look happy.

you’re someone else’s now.

he just laughs, drags a hand over his face, shrugs like it doesn’t mean anything. later, he takes something stronger than usual, lets some girl pull him into a private room of the club.

she’s pretty. probably. he doesn’t look at her face. he doesn’t remember shit. the drugs make everything blurred, edges smudged like a bad painting. he barely sees her face, barely registers her voice. just warm skin, a body that isn’t yours.

he fucks like he’s trying to forget, like he can drive you out of his system if he just ruins himself enough. because you made him feel alive—more than the drugs ever did. and now, he just feels nothing.

when his lips part in a weak orgasm, your name slips out instead.

he doesn’t even realise it at first. not until she stiffens underneath him. not until she mutters something about him being a piece of shit and shoves at his chest. he barely hears her over the ringing in his ears.

when she leaves, nam-gyu sits at the edge of the bed, staring at the floor, hands trembling.

he thought he could burn you out. he was wrong.

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sagittariusmarz · 3 days ago

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The dynamics between you and your future spouse (pac) *follower request

Pile 1

I see that you and your future spouse will a hero and damsel in distress type of dynamic/ hero or heroine dynamic, I see that your future spouse will enjoy taking care of your needs and doing whatever they can to help you or or vice versa. I see that you or your spouse may always try to think ahead and plan ahead to make your spouse’s life easier, I see that you’ll both enjoy encouraging each other and motivating each other. I see that when one of you are down the other always knows what to say or do to pick them up, I see that one of you will always feel the need to be a protector or teacher so that you can guide your person and help them. I see that you will feel safe with each other and you guys will often confide in each other, I see for some of you they’ll really feel like your best friend. Advice- Try not to enable your partner or don’t let them enable you, even if they want to do everything for you make sure that you have and your partner have some independence, beware of being too codependent. Signs- Aries/cancer, Aries in 12th house, Leo in 6th house. Initials- Q, E, A, T

Pile 2

I see that you and your future spouse may have the dynamic of being chased and being the chaser, your spouse may feel like you’re too independent and that you don’t want to rely on them. It may bother them because it will feel like you can’t trust them or rely on them the way they want you too, I see that there will be a physical attraction but you guys may need to work on the emotional aspect. I see that whoever is the provider will make sure that you both are financially stable and they’ll make sure you have what you want/need but they will want more affection, I see that whoever is less affectionate or emotional in the marriage may be because of childhood trauma. Advice- work on building the trust in the relationship and try to be more comfortable expressing your emotions, do the inner work and find out what’s blockage you from opening up more to your partner. Having a better connection with your spirituality or listening more to your intuition will help you. Signs-Gemini/cancer, Leo in 12th house, Gemini in 10th house. Initials- P, O, Z, E

Pile 3

I see that you and your future spouse will have the dynamic of the passionate lovers, I see that the chemistry and attraction will be like something you’ve never experienced before. I see the emotions run high for both of you because of how much you love and care about each other, the relationship may progress really fast or faster than you expected. I see that you guys might have skipped the friend phase and just jumped into a relationship, I see that your spouse will know from the beginning that you’re the one for them and they won’t want to waste anymore time being in the friend-zone. I see that they’ll find you very tempting and erotic or you’ll both feel that way for each other, I see you guys have an active/healthy sexlife. I see that your partner is a doer like even if they’re mad and don’t want to do something for you they’ll still do it, to them actions definitely speak louder than words and they’ll prove it to you. Advice- work on the way you guys communicate/find healthier ways to communicate, work on building a friendship and doing bonding activities together. Work on having a stronger emotional bound with each other rather than just physical. Signs- Capricorn/pisces, Aries in 2nd house/aries in 7th house. Initials- B, D, K

Personal readings always available

Divider by @thecutestgrotto PNGs by @buriedteen @6arely0here

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overadores · 3 days ago

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જ⁀➴°⋆ Love Me Like A Friend

When Katseye’s main dancer, Daniela Avanzini makes her debut, no one is aware of her secret friends-with-benefits arrangement with chart-topping producer and singer Y/N L/N—a relationship they’ve kept under wraps due to Daniela’s strict no-dating rule. However, as rumors circulate about Y/N’s supposed affairs with other women, and her enigmatic song lyrics appear to reflect Daniela’s mixed signals, tension starts to build. With public speculation intensifying and jealousy brewing behind closed doors, their closely guarded secret is on the verge of unraveling, compelling them to face what they truly mean to one another.

chapter 37 - tsunami

Daniela had never been good at saying no. It was in her nature to say yes—to managers, to friends, to strangers who barely knew her name but wanted a piece of her anyway. It was easier that way, easier than disappointing people, easier than explaining why she hesitated when commitment knocked on her door.

But somehow, the one person she could never say yes to was Y/N.

Maybe because saying yes meant giving in to feelings she wasn’t ready to acknowledge. Maybe because letting Y/N in meant watching her leave one day. Maybe because Daniela had never been good at love, at holding on to something real, and she didn’t want to hurt Y/N the way she knew she would.

But she did anyway.

And now, Y/N was gone.

It shouldn’t hurt this much. They were never supposed to be serious—just friends with benefits, just stolen nights and unspoken words. But somewhere along the way, things got messy. Somewhere along the way, Y/N started looking at her like she was something more, and Daniela let her. She let her, knowing she could never offer the same in return.

And yet, when she saw the cold finality in Y/N’s expression that night, it was like the air had been sucked out of her lungs.

Daniela wished she had just stayed in her room. She wished she had ignored the invite, had kept her phone tucked away instead of letting her face be captured in that one picture—the picture that ruined everything. She never knew how powerful the media could be, how a simple misunderstanding could tear her life apart. She had been caught at the park, someone was walking beside her, a guy reaching out to hold her hand, it was nothing, just a friend leading the way, but the internet didn’t see it that way. Neither did Y/N.

But it was never just about that one night.

Daniela had always known Y/N was patient—more patient than she deserved. Y/N had endured every whisper, every grainy instagram story, every moment that should have sent her running. Because Y/N believed in her. Believed in the unspoken explanations, the quiet reassurances, the idea that Daniela would always come back.

And she had.

Until Y/N had enough.

She had never felt this kind of loneliness before.

And the worst part? She hadn’t even realized how much she had been hurting Y/N all along. How every mixed signal, every hesitation, every night spent pretending their feelings weren’t real had chipped away at something fragile.

Y/N had always been good at understanding her. At waiting. But patience had its limits, and Daniela had taken too much for granted.

She didn’t even know if there was a way back.

Her fingers hovered over her messages, muscle memory tempting her to type out something—anything—that could fix this.

But Y/N wouldn’t see it.

Not anymore.

Maybe that was the part that hurt the most.

Daniela had spent so long running from the idea of love, convincing herself that keeping things casual meant she wouldn’t have to lose anything. That keeping Y/N at arm’s length would somehow protect them both.

But now she knew better.

Love wasn’t just about holding on—it was about showing up.

And she had failed.

The city outside her window blurred as she fought back tears, her mind looping the same memories over and over—late-night drives, shared laughter, Y/N’s hand on hers, the way she always knew when Daniela needed comfort without her having to say a word.

There was no one else she wanted.

No one else who made her feel the way Y/N did.

She had been a coward.

Daniela had spent so much time convincing herself she didn’t need Y/N.

Now, she wasn’t sure how to exist without her.

She let out a breath, shaky and uneven, gripping her phone tighter. Y/N was done with her. That much was clear.

But Daniela had never been the kind of person to give up easily.

And she wasn’t about to start now.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ masterlist next

taglist: @sunshinez4 @haerinkisser @altaroflux @kristalag@1luvkarina @p1hbrook @xochitlisbest @peanutbutterlover05 @goofymickeyr @ourlovesarang @meizinisnumberone @linnnsworld @bandaidss320 @meiphobic @yeetaberry127 @urmom2314 @chaepu @leotapes @gtfoiydlyj @ratzeye @cassiespoiler @wtfisthisnoclueman @bowforgodjihyo @skz-xii

a/n: very recommended to the song cuz it hits me in the feels while i was writing it.

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spiderfunkz · 2 days ago

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CARE

pairings. cho hyun-ju x gn!reader

cw. eating disorder recovery, mentions of having a low self-esteem, hurt to comfort, established relationship.

author's note: i hope i did justice to this request and please let me know if i missed any warnings. my requests for hyun-ju are open, feel free to send me an ask!

the lamp lit low, the only other light shining in the room was the tv. you were huddled under thick blankets in the comfort of your sofa, hyun-ju should be home any minute. you love welcoming her home with a warm hug and kiss, however today, you feel incredibly tired.

your eyes began to flutter shut, the scene in the background slowly started to sound like gibberish. though, you were awakened by one voice that you recognize way too well.

hyun-ju pressed a kiss on your forehead, her coat still hanging off her shoulders. "did i wake you up? sorry," her hand caressed your cheek, it was cold and it shook you awake. "i was waiting for you," you shook your head.

the kitchen was neatly tidied. something you've always gotten used to. however, the fridge was fully stocked with different kinds of vegetables, fruits, dairy, and etcetera. there were many types of boxes stored up— filled with balanced meals and lunches. notes written by hyun-ju were stuck on them. though, you still feel uneasy whenever it gets brought up.

you couldn't go back into that loop.

hyun-ju got ready for the night. you stayed in your original position, continuing the show that was playing in front of you. you didn't notice or hear much of the commotion near you, hyun-ju is careful anyways, she wouldn't let the home burn or whatever.

you specifically didn't notice the microwave beep until hyun-ju sat next to you, the smell caught your breath quickly. "i cooked and prepped this last night, it's still good, don't worry, i took a bite to make sure," her voice is so calm. she could sense your hesitation, "it's safe. come on, small bites."

you took her word, she was reassuring. it was nice to know. "that's it. that's a good bite, good job."

she made sure you fueled your body properly. it's not as terrifying anymore, hyun-ju's always there to help you throughout.

she feeds you the last few spoonfuls, making sure you got every last bit. "what show are you watching, hun?" it's never pressuring whenever you're with her, hyun-ju knows how to make things more at ease and pleasant for you. your health matters as much as hers, it's relieving to have someone so caring. it's easier for you to think clearly now, your head is no longer as blurry or spiraling. you're thankful for hyun-ju, she's just as thankful for you.

"that one drama you mentioned. the one with zombies?" you answered, "oh, is it nice? i heard a season two is coming out soon," her hand holds the spoon patiently. "yeah, well turns out they've been saying that for a while, so i guess not." you shrug.

without even realizing, you finished the whole meal. hyun-ju whispers soft affirmations in your ear, she makes sure you know how proud she is of you.

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revelboo · 11 hours ago

Note

I can't remember how I found you but I am so glad I did, I read a bunch of TFP and DJD stories and then started reading everything I could get my hands on

I had no idea who Sunder was but I am completely and utterly infatuated with that absolute psycho, I can't WAIT to see more

Sunder is very not okay

Whipped Cream Pt 4

Sunder x Reader

• There’s no way out, but you can’t stop circling over and over. While he’d finally stopped crooning at you in that eerily comforting voice, his blue optics track you. And he’s still grinning whenever you glance at him. That stare of his predatory and focused. Making you painfully aware that you’re trapped in an unknown place with an insane monster. A murderer. He’d admitted as much.

• Head turning to track you as you explore his prison looking for a way out. Wearing yourself down. Getting distracted so it’s easier for him to snoop in your mind. Happy memories so achingly sweet and disappointments so bitter. The sharpness of fear going straight through him. Wishes he could get his hands free and reach his spike. Stroke himself to those lovely little jagged shards of fear inside you. “I hate to see you fret, little love,” he whispers, servos tapping against the sides of the berth he’s bound to. “Come sit with me.”

• You’re taking a step toward him before remembering that you don’t actually want to get anywhere near him and stopping short. And his grin stretches even wider. “Stop that.” He’s chained. Can’t touch you. Honestly, he’s a bit sad almost. Baring his teeth and desperate to bite. Broken. “It must be lonely.” He’d admitted to what he’d done, but part of you wants to help him.

• Smile faltering slightly, he swallows a laugh. Oh. Do you pity him? He can use that. “You have no idea,” he purrs, voice dipping and hurt. “How alone I’ve been. They don’t even try to help me, just lock me away.” And there it is. You hesitate. Are you thinking that you can fix him? How delicious. “No one’s ever given me a chance, but why would they?” Surely it can’t be this easy? “I regret so much.” Not killing more before they’d caught him for one. Not reveling in the delightful fear of death more.

• “Do you want to change?” Don’t know why you’re asking him, trying to understand him. It’s a sort of horrified fascination and pity motivating you. And a part of you wants to reach out to him. Stretching up to touch your fingers to his servos, belatedly remembering those awful needles he has. Breath catching when his servos slide against your fingertips. Gently. Those pretty blue optics hopeful as they stare at you, and you can’t look away. Can’t break that contact with his warm servos as that uncanny feeling that everything’s okay whispers in your mind. Him. Something he’s doing. “Someone should help you.”

#transformers x reader #sunder x reader #mtmte sunder

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minniesfiles · 2 days ago

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WHOEVER YOU WANT ME TO BE

You wanted a way to escape your misery, and Mingyu was exactly that.

❧ PAIRING; mingyu x reader

❧ GENRE; fluff, hurt/comfort

❧ TAGS/WARNINGS; strangers to lovers kinda, hurt/comfort, mention of infidelity, smoking, fluff

❧ WORDCOUNT; 0.8k

𐚁₊⊹

▍2 FEBRUARY 2024

You pressed your back against the cold brick wall with your arms wrapped around yourself as you tried to steady your breathing. The best still pulsed from the inside of the club, and you could hear the laughters and chatters from people whose lives weren’t falling apart like yours.

You wiped your face, smearing mascara across the back of your hand. You were fine — really, you were — until you weren’t. One moment, you were dancing to the music, and the next — your whole world shattered.

You hated this. Hated that you let yourself care so much. Hated that you let him break you like this.

There he was, the boy you loved for two whole years, the boy who whispered promises into your skin, his lips now pressed against someone else’s.

You stared for too long, frozen in place, waiting for him to pull away, to look guilty, to do something. But he didn’t. He just kept kissing her.

So you left.

Now, you were out here, your breath hitching and fingers digging into your arms as you tried to hold yourself together.

The scrape of a lighter pulled her attention.

You turned slightly, just enough to see a boy — maybe a year or two older — leaning against the wall with a cigarette dangling from his lips. He was very tall — at least six feet two inches. His hoodie was unzipped which revealed a worn-out band tee underneath. He had a dark leather jacket on, and his hands were stuffed in his pockets. He leaned casually against the wall as he exhaled a slow cloud of smoke.

He noticed you staring and turned his head towards your direction. “Bad night?” he asked, exhaling another smoke into the cool air.

You let out a bitter laugh as you swiped your hand across your damp cheeks. “Something like that” you answered.

The brunette boy studied you for a moment before flicking ash onto the pavement. “Let me guess,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “Boy troubles?”

You let out another hollow laugh. “How did you know?”

“You’ve got the look” he smirked, but there was something softer behind it.

“What look?” you frowned.

“The I just had my heart ripped out and I’m trying really hard not to fall apart in front of a stranger look.”

You huffed, shaking your head. “Great. Love that I’m so obvious.”

The boy took another slow drag before exhaling. “Want me to beat him up for you?”

That caught you off guard. You turned your head to look at him properly, and searched his face for signs of teasing.

“I’m kidding. Unless you want me to” his smirk deepened.

You actually laughed at that, though it was short, surprising yourself. “Thanks, but I don’t think he’s worth it.”

“Probably not,” the boy agreed, flicking his cigarette away. “Most of them aren’t.”

A silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. You found yourself breathing a little easier.

“Who are you?” you asked finally. ‘What’s your name?’ would’ve been more appropriate.

The boy pushed off the wall and turned to face you fully. His gaze held yours for a long moment before he gave a slow, crooked smile.

“Whoever you want me to be.”

“That’s not an answer” you blinked.

“Sure it is” he shoved his hands back into his pockets.

“You want a distraction? I can be that. You want someone to listen? I can do that too. Or—” he grinned, eyes glinting.

“You want to forget for a little while? I’m your guy.”

You tilted your head, considering him. “And why would you do that?” you questioned.

The boy exhaled, looking up at the sky as if thinking. “Because I know what it’s like.”

He then looked back at you, and the teasing edge in his voice softened. “To need an escape.”

You bit your lip, considering again. He was a stranger. You had no idea what his story was, but there was something in his eyes — something that made you believe him.

And maybe you did need an escape.

“Okay,” you said finally.

The boy’s smirk returned. “Okay?”

You nodded. “Be my escape.”

“Come on, then” he held out a hand.

You hesitated only for a second before slipping your hand into his. His fingers were warm against yours despite his tough exterior, and oddly you felt safer than you did with your now ex-boyfriend.

You both started walking away from the club, away from the past few hours, and away from the pain that was simmering in your chest.

For tonight, you didn’t have to be the girl whose heart had just been broken.

For tonight, you could be whoever you wanted to be.

And so could he.

“I’m Mingyu”

“I think that was the right question you were meant to ask”

“Y/n” you replied, a little embarrassed.

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grifffins · 3 days ago

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🔮 The Fool’s Journey (Into Trouble) 🔮 | Ch. 5

Lilia Calderu x fem!reader

summary: A matchmaking event, a reckless plan, and a game that cuts a little too deep—because playing with fire always has consequences

wc: 8.3k (Chapter 5/?)

a/n: I'm reading all the reviews you're leaving, and it's filling me with so much joy, seriously, thank you so much! I promise I'll eventually get around to replying to them all, but for now, just know that I've seen them, I appreciate every single one, and they are absolutely fuelling me to get these chapters out faster. If I had to stare at this chapter any longer, I was genuinely going to throw myself off a cliff, so here it is before I lose my mind. I don’t know, I hope you like it!

And just a heads-up—ratings have officially gone up 🔥 y'all better handle this with care.

Ch. 4 ch. 6

also on ao3

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The next few weeks flew by in a blur of routine and mild frustration. I’d gotten used to maneuvering on crutches though not without my fair share of near-disasters and before long, I was downgraded to a boot. A clunky, annoying boot, but it was better than nothing. And now, I was almost out of it, counting down the days until I could finally move like a normal person again.

Lilia had been... Lilia. Ever present, always hovering just enough to make sure I wasn’t doing anything too reckless, but never crossing the line into anything that could be considered more. There were lingering touches, soft smiles, and the occasional meaningful glance, but nothing had really progressed.

And, honestly? That was fine.

Mostly.

Between the shop being surprisingly busy and my friends constantly roping me into their latest schemes, fundraisers, work drama, and questionable life choices. I barely had time to dwell on it. I liked keeping busy, helping where I could, and throwing myself into distraction after distraction. It was easier than thinking about how much I wanted Lilia but didn’t know how to move things forward.

Some days, it felt like we were stuck in this comfortable, frustrating limbo. We'd laugh, we’d bicker, we'd work side by side in the shop, but there was always this invisible line neither of us was willing to cross.

Still, things were good.

Lilia was still a mystery I was determined to solve, even if she sometimes acted like an impenetrable fortress. But there were moments, tiny cracks in the walls she put up. The way she’d refill my tea without asking, or how she’d linger at the end of my shift, pretending to read while really just making sure I got home safely. The way she’d watch me when she thought I wasn’t looking, like she was thinking about something.

And those moments? They were enough to keep me going. For now.

One afternoon, as I hobbled around the shop stocking shelves, I sighed dramatically. "Lilia, please, I cannot wait to be out of this boot. I feel like Frankenstein’s monster."

Lilia smirked from behind the counter, flipping through an old grimoire. "You only have to wait till this afternoon."

I shot her a glare. "Rude."

She chuckled, but there was that usual softness behind it, the kind that made my heart skip a little. "You'll be back to your reckless self soon enough. I'm sure I'll regret it."

I grinned. "Oh, you will. First thing I'm doing is dancing barefoot on the counter just to spite you."

Lilia rolled her eyes but didn't argue. Instead, she just said, "I'll keep the first aid kit ready."

I snorted, limping toward the register. "You should always have that thing on standby with me around."

"Trust me," she said dryly. "I do."

The bell above the shop door jingled, and before I could process it, Jen and Agatha waltzed in like they owned the place.

"Y/n!" Jen beamed. "Still hobbling around, I see."

Agatha leaned on the counter, eyeing Lilia with that devilish glint in her eye. "And, you're still under Lilia's watchful eye, huh?"

Lilia arched a brow. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

Jen smirked at me. "Oh, it's not a bad thing at all."

I groaned. "Guys, please."

Agatha ignored me, grinning. "Anyway, y/n, you up for helping me with something later?"

I sighed, already knowing I was about to get roped into something ridiculous. "What is it this time?"

Jen wiggled her brows. "Oh, you know, just a little... matchmaking event."

I blinked. "No."

Lilia, to my absolute horror, looked very interested. "Matchmaking?"

Agatha smirked. "Yeah. You in?"

Lilia, without missing a beat, looked directly at me and said, "I think y/n should go."

My jaw dropped. "What?!"

Lilia’s lips curled into that maddening smirk. "It could be... fun."

I groaned, slamming my head onto the counter. "I hate all of you."

Lilia just sipped her tea, looking far too pleased with herself. "You'll survive, baby."

“What exactly is a matchmaking event?”

Jen leaned against the counter, grinning like the devil she clearly was. "Oh, y/n," she purred, eyes sparkling with mischief. "A matchmaking event is exactly what it sounds like."

I narrowed my eyes at her. "And why, exactly, do you think I need to attend one?"

Agatha smirked, completely ignoring my very valid concern. "It's a charity event, actually. Think of it like speed dating, but fancier, cocktails, music, a little light mingling." She waved a hand dramatically. "People will bid on dates, there'll be matchmaking games, the whole romantic shebang."

I groaned. "You have to be kidding me."

Billy, who had apparently appeared out of thin air (or just snuck in without me noticing), clapped his hands together. "Oh no, she's not kidding, and I am so excited for this."

Lilia, who had been sipping her tea silently this whole time, finally spoke up, eyes fixed on me in that infuriatingly calm way she had. "I think it’s an excellent idea."

I gaped at her. "Et tu, Lilia?!"

She shrugged, setting her cup down with a smirk. "You did say you were bored."

Agatha nodded sagely. "Exactly! And what better way to pass the time than by meeting some... interesting people?"

I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. "Oh my God, no. I am not getting auctioned off to the highest bidder like a damn prize goat."

Jen laughed. "Oh, come on. It’s for charity! Think of it as... networking."

Billy wiggled his brows. "With benefits."

Lilia quirked an eyebrow, but there was something sharp in her eyes now, something that made my stomach flip. "You never know, y/n," she said smoothly, "maybe you'll find someone... intriguing."

I stared at her, heat rising to my cheeks. Was she actually encouraging this?

I pointed an accusing finger at the coven. "You’re all just doing this to watch me suffer, aren’t you?"

Agatha grinned. "Absolutely."

Billy winked. "One hundred percent."

Jen shrugged. "You should be used to it by now."

I sighed, sinking onto the nearest chair. "This is actually my worst nightmare."

Lilia, standing far too composed and far too smug, leaned against the counter. "You'll do fine, baby."

And the way she said it, soft, teasing, but with just enough of an edge, made me wonder if she was enjoying this a little too much.

I stared at Lilia for a long moment, watching the way she casually sipped her tea, completely unbothered by the absolute chaos the coven was throwing at me. Mixed signals? Oh, she was full of them. She’d spent weeks hovering, making sure I didn’t overdo it, looking after me with a quiet protectiveness, and now she was totally fine with me flirting with other people?

Okay, Lilia.

Fine. If she wanted to play it cool, I could play it colder.

With a wicked smirk, I crossed my arms and leaned back into my chair. "Alright," I said, shrugging. "I'll do it."

The coven exploded.

"YES!" Billy practically fist-pumped.

Jen beamed. "Oh, this is going to be so good."

Agatha cackled. "I knew you'd come around."

But I didn’t take my eyes off Lilia, watching for any flicker of emotion behind that carefully composed exterior of hers. She raised a brow, looking mildly impressed but ultimately unfazed. “Good for you,” she said, nodding. “You’ll enjoy yourself.”

I wanted to scream.

Instead, I smiled sweetly. “Yeah, maybe I’ll meet someone intriguing, like you said.”

Lilia’s lips twitched, but she didn’t rise to the bait. “Perhaps.”

Ugh.

I was going to do this. Not because I wanted to, but because if Lilia was going to keep up this whole mysterious and unattainable older woman thing, then I was going to make her watch me flirt with someone else.

By the time I got back from the hospital that evening, boot-free and feeling like I had reclaimed my dignity, I was on a mission.

I went all out.

I pulled out one of my best dresses, the kind that hugged in all the right places, paired it with strappy low heels— I wasn’t about to push my luck after just recovering from a broken leg — and topped it all off with red lipstick. My hair was styled to perfection.

I looked in the mirror and grinned. Damn, I missed dressing up.

Before I left, I snapped a quick selfie and sent it to the group chat.

Me: Ready to break hearts tonight.

Billy responded instantly.

Billy: BABE. I AM DEAD.

Jen: GIRL, THEY WON'T SURVIVE YOU.

Agatha: Show Lilia. Right now.

I rolled my eyes, typing back.

Me: No way. Let her suffer.

I grabbed my clutch, took one last glance in the mirror, and smirked.

Lilia Calderu had no idea what she was in for.

I arrived at the venue, the heels clicking confidently against the pavement as I made my way inside. The place was fancier than I expected, soft lighting, elegant decor, and the kind of crowd that screamed money meets desperation.

I spotted Agatha immediately, standing near the bar with a drink in hand, watching me approach with an impressed smirk. Her eyes swept over me from head to toe, and she let out a low whistle. “Damn, y/n. If I weren’t rooting for Lilia, I’d bid on you myself.”

I rolled my eyes, planting myself in front of her. “Alright, what do I need to do?” I asked, folding my arms.

Agatha grinned wickedly. “Eager, are we?”

I sighed, eyeing the bustling room. “Let’s just say I’ve been encouraged.”

She chuckled, handing me a glass of champagne like she hadn’t practically dragged me here. “Alright, here’s how it works. There are three... let’s call them options.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Go on.”

Agatha held up a perfectly manicured finger. “Option one—the bidding auction. People bid for a date with you.”

I groaned. “Hard pass.”

Ignoring me, she lifted a second finger. “Option two—the matchmaking questionnaire. You fill it out, they set you up with someone they think is compatible.”

I stared at her. “Do I look like someone who’s here for a deep connection?”

Agatha smirked. “No, you look like someone here to make a certain divination witch jealous as hell.”

I didn’t deny it. “And option three?”

Agatha smirked, holding up the final finger. “And then there’s option three... mingling, flirting, working the room.” She gestured grandly at the crowd. “And, honestly, that’s where you shine.”

I sighed, taking a slow sip of champagne. “And which one exactly do you want me to do?”

Agatha’s grin stretched impossibly wider. “Oh, baby, I didn’t bring you here to find your soulmate.” She winked. “I brought you here to make Lilia Calderu jealous as hell. So, option three it is.”

I arched a brow. “And if she doesn’t show up?”

Agatha shrugged. “Then at least you’ll have some fun and free champagne.”

I sighed, finishing my drink. “Fine. Let’s do this.”

Agatha grinned, looping her arm through mine. “That’s the spirit. Now, go mingle. And remember, eye contact, light touches, and laugh at everything.”

I groaned but let her pull me toward the crowd. This was going to be... interesting.

I took a deep breath, rolling my shoulders back and putting on my most dazzling smile. If I was going to do this, I was going to do it right.

Armed with another glass of champagne and Agatha’s ridiculous advice bouncing around in my head, I stepped into the crowd, letting myself glide from conversation to conversation. I laughed, I touched arms lightly, I made just enough eye contact to keep people interested without giving too much away.

And through it all, one thought lingered in the back of my mind.

Please show up, Lilia.

I scanned the room subtly, pretending to be fully invested in whatever some guy in a ridiculous suit was rambling about, but my heart wasn’t in it. I could feel the absence of her. Could feel the weight of her not being here.

The evening dragged on, and despite the flattering attention I was getting, more than I knew what to do with, there was an ache in my chest that wouldn’t quite go away.

I found myself standing near a group of women, effortlessly charming my way through another conversation, when I caught myself staring toward the entrance for the millionth time.

Nothing.

I sighed internally, feeling my excitement wane just a little.

But just as I turned back to my conversation, I caught a shift in the air. A presence.

And then I saw her.

Lilia Calderu, standing in the doorway like she owned the place, dressed in a simple but devastatingly effective black dress, nothing overly elegant, just effortlessly put together, the fabric skimming her figure in a way that made my mouth go dry. Her dark curls were loosely pinned up, a few strands escaping to frame her face, and those brown eyes of hers scanned the room with sharp intent, missing nothing.

My heart stopped.

She looked... incredible.

Her gaze locked onto me almost instantly, and I saw the way her eyes flickered over my dress, my posture, the easy way I was leaning against the table with a glass of champagne in hand and a smile that may have been a little too smug.

For a second, I thought she might turn around and leave, but instead, she walked in with the kind of calm, deliberate grace that made my stomach twist into knots.

Agatha, appearing by my side out of nowhere, whispered, “And there she is.”

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “I thought she wasn’t coming.”

Agatha smirked. “She didn’t think she was coming. But then she realised she couldn’t let you have all the fun without her.”

I watched as Lilia made her way through the crowd, her expression unreadable, but her eyes, her eyes, never left me.

I forced myself to smirk, turning back to the group I was talking to, making a show of tossing my hair over my shoulder and laughing lightly at something someone said. But my heart was pounding.

Lilia Calderu was here. And she was watching me.

Game on.

I took a slow sip of my champagne, letting the bubbles fizz on my tongue as I kept my posture relaxed, my smile effortlessly charming. I could feel her gaze burning into me from across the room, sharp and assessing, but I didn’t look her way, not yet.

If she wanted to watch, I’d give her a damn show.

“So, y/n,” the woman beside me purred, leaning in just a little too close. “You never told me what you do for a living.”

I smiled, tilting my head coyly. “Oh, you know... a little bit of everything,” I said smoothly, trailing a finger along the rim of my glass. “Keeps life interesting.”

I swore I could hear Lilia’s scoff from across the room, and it took everything in me not to grin.

Agatha, who was lingering nearby, nudged me under the table with her foot. “Subtle,” she whispered, her tone practically dripping with glee. “She’s watching you like a hawk.”

I shrugged, pretending to be unaffected. “Let her.”

I felt her familiar presence before I even saw her. Lilia’s energy was intense, heavy and magnetic, drawing people in without her even trying. And then, just as I was laughing at something unremarkable, I saw her appear at the edge of my vision, standing beside the group with her arms crossed, a neutral expression on her face.

But her eyes? Her eyes told an entirely different story.

They flicked from the woman leaning too close to me, to my lips, and then, finally, locked onto mine.

I arched an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Lilia,” I greeted, taking another slow sip. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

She tilted her head slightly, her lips curving into that maddeningly subtle smirk. “Neither did I.”

Agatha, not missing a beat, grinned and chimed in. “Lilia! Finally decided to join the fun?”

Lilia’s gaze didn’t leave mine as she responded, “I suppose someone had to keep an eye on y/n.”

“Oh, I think I’m doing just fine on my own,” I shot back, playful but pointed.

Lilia’s lips twitched. “So I see.” Her gaze dragged over me, slowly, taking in every inch of my dress, my posture, the way I was standing just close enough to the woman next to me to imply interest.

I held her gaze, my heart racing. “You know, you could’ve just stayed home,” I teased, my voice dropping just a bit. “No need to check up on me.”

Lilia stepped closer, leaning in just enough that I could catch the faint scent of her perfume. “Maybe I just wanted to watch?”

I swallowed, my bravado slipping just slightly.

Agatha, watching the exchange like it was the best thing to ever happen to her, nudged me again and whispered, just for me to hear, “You’re losing, babe.”

I straightened up, regaining my composure, and smirked at Lilia. “Well, since you’re here... maybe I should introduce you to some people.” I gestured to the woman beside me, who looked suddenly very interested in this new development. “This is—”

But before I could finish, Lilia reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear, her fingers lingering a second too long. The touch sent a shiver down my spine.

“Enjoy yourself, baby,” she murmured, her voice low and full of something I couldn’t quite place. “Don’t let me stop you.”

And with that, she stepped back, leaving me absolutely reeling.

Agatha burst into laughter. “Oh my God, she is so playing you.”

I clenched my jaw, staring at Lilia’s retreating figure as she casually wandered toward the bar, looking as cool and composed as ever.

Oh, hell no.

I was not about to let Lilia Calderu waltz in here, throw me off my game with a well-timed smirk and a touch that lingered just enough to make my brain short-circuit. If she thought she could walk away with the upper hand, she had another thing coming.

I plastered on my best grin and turned back to the woman next to me, who was still watching the whole exchange with keen interest. “Sorry about that,” I said smoothly, letting my fingers graze lightly over the rim of my glass. “Old friend.”

Lilia, who had just reached the bar, tilted her head slightly at my words, clearly listening in.

The woman smiled, intrigued. “Old friends who stare at you like they’d rather eat you alive?”

I laughed, but it wasn’t entirely fake. “She’s... complicated.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lilia's shoulders tense slightly. Gotcha.

Agatha, still lingering with a devilish glint in her eye, whispered in my ear, “Atta girl. Make her work for it.”

With renewed confidence, I turned my full attention to my current company, leaning in just enough to make it seem like I was entirely absorbed in our conversation. I laughed at all the right moments, let my hand casually brush against hers, and even threw in a little coy lip bite for good measure.

And Lilia saw every second of it.

I could practically feel her eyes on me, dark and heavy, her carefully composed façade slipping by degrees.

When I dared a glance her way, I caught her watching with that unreadable expression, cool, detached, but with a flicker of something darker beneath. Jealousy? Annoyance? I wasn’t sure, but I liked it.

Still, she didn’t approach.

Fine. If she wanted to play it that way, I’d push a little harder.

I tilted my head back, laughing at something the woman said, making sure my posture screamed confidence, my neck arched just enough to be noticeable. And then, as casually as I could manage, I said loudly enough for Lilia to hear, “You know, I was a little nervous about coming tonight, but... I think I’m really enjoying myself.”

From across the room, I saw Lilia’s grip tighten around her glass.

Agatha, ever the enabler, had appeared at the bar, bit back a grin and leaned against the bar near Lilia. “So, Lilia,” she said innocently, “what brings you here tonight? Surely not jealousy?”

Lilia’s eyes flickered with something sharp, but she simply took a sip of her drink, her voice smooth as silk. “Just making sure y/n doesn’t get herself into too much trouble.”

“Oh, I think she’s handling herself just fine,” Agatha teased, shooting me a wink.

I smirked, running a hand down my hip and throwing Lilia a pointed glance before turning back to my conversation.

But before I could say another word, Lilia appeared at my side, moving silently and suddenly. Her presence was commanding, and I felt it in every nerve of my body.

“Y/n,” she said smoothly, her voice velvety and low. “A word?”

The woman next to me raised an eyebrow. “Oh,” she said, clearly amused. “I think I’ll leave you to it.”

I swallowed, my heart pounding, but I kept my smirk firmly in place. “Of course, Lilia.”

She led me away from the crowd, her hand resting lightly on my lower back, just enough to own the situation, just enough to remind me exactly who I was dealing with.

Once we were in a quieter corner, she turned to face me, crossing her arms and raising a brow. “Having fun?”

I shrugged, playing it cool. “I was.”

Lilia’s lips twitched, but her gaze sharpened, laced with something I couldn’t quite place. “You’re walking a fine line, baby.”

I tilted my head, stepping closer, pushing just enough. “Maybe I like the edge.”

Her eyes darkened, and for the first time all night, I wondered if I’d pushed too far. But instead of pulling away, she leaned in, her breath warm against my ear, sending shivers straight down my spine.

“Careful,” she murmured, voice low and dangerously smooth. “You might find yourself wanting something you can’t have.”

I swallowed hard, fighting to keep my cool. “Maybe I’m tired of waiting.”

Lilia’s expression remained unreadable, her head tilting just slightly. “Getting ahead of yourself, baby.”

I exhaled sharply, biting back the urge to roll my eyes. “And you love dragging this out, don’t you?”

She made a soft, thoughtful sound, her gaze sweeping over me like she was deciding just how much she wanted to let me have. “Mmm. Maybe. Or maybe you’re seeing something that isn’t there.”

Heat curled in my stomach, frustration and want tangled together, her eyes flicked down to my lips for half a second, just long enough for me to notice, but before I could say anything, she let out a slow, almost teasing sigh and stepped back, putting space between us. “Go on, baby. Enjoy your night.”

And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving me reeling.

Agatha appeared at my side almost immediately. “So... that looked intense.”

I took a deep breath, my heart racing. “I think I might be losing.”

And honestly? I didn’t want to play this game anymore.

Agatha grinned. “No, babe. You’re both losing.”

I groaned. “Great.”

I huffed, crossing my arms tightly over my chest as I watched Lilia disappear back into the crowd with that same frustrating grace she always carried. I turned to Agatha, my lips pursed in irritation. “You know what? I don’t want to do this matchmaking thing.”

Agatha, ever perceptive, didn’t even argue. She just sipped her drink and gave me a knowing nod. “Of course, no problem.”

I blinked. “Wait, seriously?”

She smirked, leaning against the bar. “I know when you’ve had enough, y/n. And right now, you look like you're two seconds away from murdering someone.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair, suddenly feeling the weight of the evening pressing down on me. “Yeah, I think I just... I need to go home.”

Agatha nodded, patting my arm. “Good call. Go home, take a bubble bath, and—”

“Eat my feelings?”

Agatha grinned. “Exactly.”

I gave her a small smile, grateful she wasn’t pushing. “Thanks, Aggie.”

She winked. “Don’t worry, babe. We’ll gossip later.”

I nodded, weaving my way through the crowd, ignoring the curious glances and the lingering presence of Lilia somewhere in the room.

By the time I stepped outside, the cool night air hit my skin, and I let out a long breath. The tension that had been building inside me all evening eased slightly, but the frustration was still simmering beneath the surface.

Because despite everything, the flirting, the teasing, the stupid mixed signals, Lilia still managed to keep me at arm's length. And I was tired of playing the waiting game.

As I made my way home, heels clicking against the pavement, I couldn't help but feel like I had just walked away from a fight I wasn't even sure I wanted to win anymore.

I made it home, kicking off my heels the second I stepped through the door. The silence of my apartment felt jarring after the noise and chaos of the event, but it was exactly what I needed. No prying eyes, no teasing coven, and most importantly, no Lilia.

I sighed, rubbing my temples as I walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and downing it in one go. The adrenaline from earlier was fading, leaving me feeling tired, annoyed, and... a little disappointed.

The evening had started off fun, with the whole “make Lilia jealous” plan in full swing. But somewhere along the way, it had stopped being about teasing her and started feeling like something else. Something heavier.

I wanted her to chase me. I wanted her to want me.

But instead, she just kept pulling back, staying in that frustrating space of almost.

I flopped onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling, letting my thoughts spiral.

Maybe she really doesn’t feel the same way.

Maybe the age gap is too much for her.

Maybe I’m just a fun distraction to her.

I groaned, tossing a pillow over my face. “Ugh, stupid.”

Just as I was debating whether to text Agatha and unload my feelings, my phone buzzed against my thigh.

I grabbed it, half expecting it to be one of my friends checking in, but my breath caught when I saw the name on the screen.

Lilia.

I stared at it for a beat, my thumb hovering over the screen.

Was she going to scold me for leaving early? Check on me? Or just... toy with me some more?

Taking a deep breath, I swiped to answer. “Hello?”

There was a pause, then Lilia’s voice, soft and measured. “You left.”

I blinked, sitting up straighter. “Yeah, I did. I wasn’t feeling it anymore.”

Another pause. “I see.”

I rolled my eyes. “Did you call just to state the obvious, Lilia?”

She hummed, and I could practically hear the smirk in her voice. “Maybe.”

I rubbed my forehead. “Lilia.”

She sighed, and for a moment, I thought she might actually say something real. But then—

“I wanted to make sure you got home safely.”

My heart did that stupid little flutter thing, but I pushed it down, forcing a casual tone. “I’m fine. I always am.”

There was silence on the other end, and for a second, I thought maybe she’d hung up. But then—

“I shouldn’t have encouraged you to go,” she admitted quietly.

I swallowed, surprised by the sudden shift in her tone. “Why did you?”

She didn’t answer right away, and when she did, it was softer than I expected. “Because I wanted to see what you’d do.”

I clenched my jaw, feeling frustration bubble up again. “And? Did you enjoy the show?”

Lilia exhaled, something close to a chuckle, but there was an edge to it. “More than I should have.”

My grip tightened on the phone. “You’re infuriating, you know that?”

Another pause. “So I’ve been told.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Go to bed, Lilia.”

“You too, baby,” she murmured, and before I could come up with a snarky response, the call ended.

My heart pounding, frustration and something else, something deeper, swirling in my chest.

I stared at my phone for all of ten seconds before I muttered, "No, fuck this." Without thinking any further, I tapped Lilia’s number and called her back.

She answered almost immediately, her voice a little softer, maybe a little surprised. “y/n?”

“You’re confusing,” I blurted out, pacing back and forth in my living room, frustration bubbling over. “You are so confusing, Lilia.”

Silence.

I didn’t care, I was on a roll now. “You flirt with me, you pull away, you get all soft and caring, and then you act like none of it happened. And I keep trying to play it cool, keep waiting for you to make up your damn mind, but you never do.”

She didn’t say a word, and I wasn’t stopping.

“And fuck you and this whole age gap excuse, because that’s what it is now, Lilia. It’s an excuse. You keep telling yourself that’s the problem, but it’s not. You flirt with me, you want me, and then you shut me out like it never happened. I’m tired, Lilia. I’m so tired.”

I paused, breathing hard, and then it hit me. My eyes widened as I blurted, “And you never even gave me my underwear back!”

I was hysterical.

I could hear Lilia inhale sharply on the other end, and for a second, I thought she might say something, anything. But all I got was silence.

And that silence was worse than if she’d yelled at me.

I swallowed hard, my anger deflating into something... heavier. More raw. My voice softened, and I rubbed a hand over my face. “I’m sorry,” I muttered, feeling the weight of it settle in my chest. “I shouldn’t be yelling at you.”

Still, she said nothing, and it was starting to hurt more than I thought it could.

I took a shaky breath. “I’m done, Lilia. I can’t take any more.” My throat tightened, and I blinked back the sting in my eyes. “It hurts too much.”

For a long moment, there was only the sound of my breathing and the faint static of the line. Then, finally, Lilia’s voice came through, so quiet I almost didn’t hear it.

“Y/n...”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “Don’t.”

Another pause. Then she sighed, long and slow, like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. “I never meant to hurt you.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, well... you did.”

Silence again, and I could almost imagine her, standing in her shop, looking down at the floor with that troubled frown she always wore when she was thinking too hard.

After another beat, she said, “I—” but she cut herself off, like she couldn’t finish the sentence.

I shook my head, wiping at my eyes. “Lilia, I can’t do this anymore. Not unless you actually want me. Not unless you’re willing to admit it.”

There was a pause. Then, finally, so quietly it nearly shattered me, she said, “I do.”

I froze, my heart slamming in my chest. “What?”

��I do,” Lilia repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just... I didn’t know how to.”

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening. “Then why are you pushing me away?”

There was a long silence before she finally admitted, “Because I’m scared.”

I felt something shift inside me, my anger melting into something softer. “Scared of what?”

Lilia sighed again, and this time, she sounded... tired. Vulnerable. “Of how much I want you.”

My lips parted, my throat suddenly dry. “Then stop running,” I said softly. “Please, Lilia. Just... stop.”

She was quiet for another long moment, and then— “Come over.”

My breath hitched. “What?”

“Come over,” she said again, a little stronger this time. “Now.”

I hesitated, my heart pounding. “Lilia, are you sure—”

“Yes,” she interrupted. “Please.”

And just like that, I didn’t even hesitate. I grabbed my coat, shoved my feet into my shoes, and bolted out the door, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. The night air was cool against my skin, but I barely registered it, I was too focused on getting to Lilia.

The drive to her shop felt endless, every red light an eternity, every turn slower than I wanted. My fingers tapped anxiously against the wheel, my thoughts racing.

She admitted it.

She finally admitted it.

But what did that mean? What was waiting for me when I got there?

By the time I pulled up outside her shop, I was a mess of nerves, my stomach churning with anticipation and something I couldn’t quite name. I parked and sat there for a moment, gripping the steering wheel, trying to collect myself.

Come over, she’d said. Not “we need to talk,” not “I need to explain.” Just... come over.

I swallowed, took a deep breath, and stepped out of the car. The street was quiet this time of night, the shop windows dark except for the faint glow of a single light inside.

I knocked, and almost immediately, the door creaked open.

Lilia stood there, looking... different. Her usual confidence wasn’t as sharp around the edges tonight. Her hair was loose, curling naturally around her face, and she had changed into casual wear, soft sweater and leggings, barefoot.

Her dark eyes searched mine, and for a moment, neither of us said anything.

I exhaled shakily. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she replied softly, stepping aside to let me in.

The familiar scent of her shop, incense, old books, and something distinctly her washed over me as I walked inside. She closed the door behind me, and the quiet settled around us like a heavy weight.

I turned to face her, my heart still racing. “I meant what I said, Lilia. I can’t do this anymore if you don’t—”

“I know,” she interrupted, her voice thick with something I couldn’t quite place. “I know, baby.”

The sound of her calling me that made my knees weak.

I swallowed. “Then why—”

Lilia took a slow step forward, her eyes locked onto mine. “Because I’ve spent a long time being careful, y/n. Too careful.”

I didn’t move, didn’t speak. I just let her talk.

“I told myself I couldn’t do this,” she continued, her voice quiet but sure. “That you deserved someone... younger. Someone with fewer complications. Someone who wouldn’t keep you waiting.”

I blinked, my throat tightening. “Lilia...”

She stepped closer, and this time, she reached out, brushing her fingers lightly over my wrist. “But you’re right. The age gap, the excuses... they’re just that. Excuses.”

I felt something break inside me, my breath hitching. “Then stop making them.”

Lilia looked at me, really looked at me, and I could see the struggle in her eyes, the hesitation, the longing, the fear. But then, with a slow, deliberate movement, she cupped my face in her hands, her thumb grazing lightly over my cheek.

“I’m done,” she whispered. “No more excuses.”

I barely had time to react before she kissed me.

Soft at first, hesitant, but then I melted into it, my hands gripping her waist as I kissed her back with everything I’d been holding in for weeks, months.

Lilia pressed closer, her body warm against mine, and I felt her exhale shakily into my mouth, like she was finally letting go of all the barriers she’d built between us. Like she wanted this just as badly as I did.

I pulled back just enough to catch my breath, my forehead resting against hers. “Took you long enough,” I whispered, my lips curling into a smile.

Lilia chuckled, her fingers still ghosting over my jaw, thumb tracing my lower lip. “I know, baby. I know.”

And for the first time in weeks, I felt like I could finally breathe.

But Lilia barely gives me a second to recover before she’s grabbing my hand and pulling me through the shop, her grip firm, her steps hurried, almost reckless. I can barely keep up, my heart racing, my body already aching for her before we even make it to her bedroom.

And then I’m there, being pushed back onto the bed, the mattress bouncing beneath me as I look up at her, chest rising and falling rapidly.

She’s standing over me, eyes dark and burning with something dangerous, something I’ve been craving for so long.

I moan, unabashedly, because fuck, she’s so hot. The way she looks at me like she’s about to devour me whole, like she’s going to ruin me, like I’m something she’s been starving for.

And then she starts stripping, slowly, painfully slow, slowly, deliberately, eyes locked onto mine the entire time. Teasing me with every inch of skin she reveals. She peels her sweater over her head, her curls tumbling loose, and I watch, breathless, as she undoes the clasp of her bra with deliberate precision, letting it fall to the floor, her smirk growing the longer I stare. Her hands move lower, hooking into the waistband of her leggings, sliding them down her hips with an agonising pace. She steps out of them with ease. My pulse pounds in my ears as she takes her time, dragging it out, knowing exactly what she’s doing to me, letting the last of her clothes slip from her body until she’s completely bare, standing before me in nothing but those dark eyes and the wicked smirk playing on her lips, and I’m left staring, aching.

I can’t take it.

I stand up, lurch forward, hands reaching for her, closing the space between us, my hands immediately on her body, kissing every inch of skin I can reach her collarbone, her shoulders, the curve of her neck. My hands roam over her bare back, pressing her closer, needing to feel her. My teeth scrape over the pulse hammering at her throat, and I hear her breath hitch.

Lilia moans, her fingers tangling in my hair, tugging me even closer, and I can feel the heat radiating off her. I trail kisses down, across her chest, down her stomach, dragging my nails lightly, down her ribs just to make her gasp, desperate to taste her, to make up for all the time we’ve wasted.

I want her. I want to wreck her, hear her fall apart beneath me.

But Lilia has other plans.

With a low growl, she shoves me back onto the bed, straddling me before I can even react. Her body pins mine against the mattress, a delicious weight that has me gasping. She tugs my dress up, her hands rough and impatient as she drags it over my head and tosses it aside. A shiver runs through me as her fingers hook into the waistband of my panties, and without thinking, my hips lift to help her slip them off.

And then she does the same to me. Lilia’s lips are everywhere, hot, demanding, claiming me in a way that’s anything but soft. It’s hard, it’s raw, it’s pent up tension that’s been building for weeks, and it’s so damn good, and I can feel it in every press of her teeth, every bite of her nails against my thighs.

She kisses me like she’s making up for lost time, her hands gripping my hips tightly, grinding down against me, slow and deliberate, teasing me with the friction, with enough force to leave bruises in the morning. My nails rake down her back, desperate, needy, and she loves it, moaning into my mouth as she deepens the kiss.

We don’t stop.

There’s no hesitation, no second guessing, just heat and need and the overwhelming feeling of finally having what we both wanted.

I gasp as Lilia's hands roam lower, her touch possessive, her mouth following her hands, unrelenting, claiming every inch of me. She grips my thighs, spreading me open, pressing teasing kisses along my inner thigh, slow, deliberate, making me squirm.

She pauses just above where I need her, her breath warm against me, teasing, torturous. And when she finally looks up at me, her lips just barely brushing my skin, her eyes are dark, lips slick, pupils blown wide with hunger. She smirks.

“Took me long enough, huh?” she murmurs against my skin.

I can’t even answer, just nod breathlessly.

Lilia’s mouth is on me before I can even process it, her hands pressing my thighs apart with a hunger that makes my head spin. She doesn’t tease. She doesn’t drag it out. She takes.

She devours me like she’s starving, like she’s been holding back for too long and refuses to do it a second longer. Her tongue moves with precision, slow at first, savoring, before she licks deeper, pressing her mouth against me with a hunger that has my head spinning. She flicks her tongue, dragging it over me just right, and I sob, my body jerking beneath her.

Her fingers slide through slick heat, teasing, testing, until—

I gasp, my back arching off the bed as she pushes in, stretching me, filling me in a way that has me gasping for air.

She’s ruthless, curling her fingers just right, stroking deep, pushing, pulling, setting a pace that leaves no room for mercy.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve been doing to me, baby?” she moans against me, the vibrations sending a shiver up my spine. Her fingers don’t slow, thrusting into me hard, fast, each stroke deliberate and punishing. “The things I’ve thought about... every time you walked into the shop in those little skirts, every time you teased me?”

I whimper, my hands clutching the sheets, head thrown back in pure bliss.

She bites the inside of my thigh, and I cry out. “Those panties you left behind,” she breathes, her voice thick with lust, “I couldn’t stop thinking about them. About you. About what it’d feel like to have you.”

A desperate moan rips from my throat, my body trembling under her touch. “Lilia... please.” My hips lifting, chasing her, needing more. She hums, low and indulgent, before finally sliding another finger inside me, stretching me open, pushing deeper, pressing her palm against me just enough to make me whine. My hands clutch at the sheets, my body burning, every nerve ending sparking.

“I should’ve done this sooner,” her tongue circling me in slow, teasing strokes, drawing me apart piece by piece. “Had you like this ages ago. Been wanting to hear these sounds from you for weeks”

Her fingers press against that perfect spot inside me, and I choke out a sob.

She licks deeper, pressing her tongue flat against me before sucking lightly, and I jerk, crying out.

“Want to hear you cum for me,” Lilia purrs, her voice dark and commanding, before she sucks harder, her fingers thrusting into me faster, curling deep, coaxing me higher. “Come on, baby. Let me hear it.”

And I do.

The pleasure crashes through me like a tidal wave, my body shaking, moaning her name over and over as I fall apart beneath her touch. Lilia doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up until I’m completely wrecked, panting, and twitching from the aftershocks.

She finally pulls back, pressing a final, lingering kiss against me, her breath warm and heavy.

“Good girl,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to my stomach, her voice full of praise that makes me shiver all over again. “You did so well for me.”

I can barely respond, my limbs boneless, my mind hazy. But I know one thing for sure, I want more.

It takes me a moment to come back down, my body still trembling, my breaths ragged and uneven. Lilia watches me with dark, satisfied eyes, her smirk smug and dripping with confidence. Her fingers still teasing lazy circles on my thigh like she’s enjoying the way I twitch under her touch.

But I’m not done with her, not by a long shot.

Before she can even process it, I flip us over, pressing her into the mattress with a wicked grin. Her eyes widen, but there’s no surprise, just anticipation, hunger.

“Fuck.” The word comes out in a breath, barely a sound, but enough for her to hear.

She hums, amused, her nails skimming over my arms as if daring me to continue.

My fingers trail lower, slipping between her thighs, and I pause, my breath catching as I feel how absolutely soaked she is. The realisation sends a shiver through me, and I can’t help the smirk that tugs at my lips.

I pull back slightly, looking at her properly now, taking in the way her lips are parted, her pupils blown wide, her body already straining toward me.

“Oh,” I breathe, teasing my fingers against her, dragging them slowly to feel every bit of her need. “You don’t need any help, do you?”

Lilia’s breath hitches, her hips twitching beneath my touch, but she doesn’t answer, just watches me with dark, half-lidded eyes, her lips parted in anticipation. Fixes me with a look that makes my stomach flip.

It’s daring. A challenge. Like she’s waiting to see what I’ll do next.

“Fuck,” I say again, letting out another slow breath, pressing a little firmer, feeling how she responds so easily. “You really have been waiting for this,” I murmur, my voice dark, satisfied. “Haven’t you?”

She parts her lips to respond, but I don’t give her the chance.

I sink my fingers into her, slow at first, teasing, stretching her open, feeling the way her body clenches around me.

And then I push in deeper, hard, and she gasps, her back arching, her fingers digging into my shoulders..

I don’t go slow. I don’t tease. I take her hard and rough, my fingers moving with purpose, curling inside her in a way that has her moaning instantly.

Lilia’s hands grasp at my shoulders, her nails scratching, dragging down my back, and I lower my mouth to her breasts, sucking one of her nipples between my lips. I swirl my tongue around it, biting down just enough to make her cry out, and it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.

“Fuck, y/n,” she moans, her hips bucking up against my hand, her thighs trembling around me.

I smirk against her skin, flicking my tongue over the hardened peak before moving to the other, lavishing it with the same rough attention while my fingers pump into her relentlessly.

She’s so wet, so tight around my fingers, and it doesn’t take much before I feel her start to tighten around me, her walls fluttering, her breath coming out in broken gasps.

“So, you’ve been thinking about this for a while, huh?” I murmur against her chest, my voice dripping with satisfaction. “Thinking about how I’d feel inside you?”

She groans, her back arching as she gasps, “Yes... yes... fuck.”

I grin wickedly, increasing the pace, curling my fingers just right until she’s on the edge, her breath coming in short, desperate pants. “Come on, Lilia,” I whisper against her skin, sucking hard on her nipple as I thrust into her with delicious precision.

“Let me hear you.”

And she does.

Lilia spasms around me, her moan breaking apart into something raw and desperate, her entire body trembling beneath me as she comes undone, gasping my name like it’s the only thing she knows.

I watch her fall apart, mesmerised, drinking in every twitch, every gasp, every sharp intake of breath, and it’s the most intoxicating thing I’ve ever seen.

My fingers slow, riding out her high as I press soft kisses along her collarbone.

Her breathing is ragged, a deep flush crawling up her chest, sweat slicking her skin, and she lets out a soft, breathy laugh, pulling me against her, her fingers tangling in my hair. “I should hate how smug you look right now,” she murmurs, voice thick and shaky.

I smirk, kissing along her jaw. “You love it.”

She hums, her lips ghosting over my temple as her breath steadies, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on my back.

After the intensity of it all, after the heat, the moans, and the desperate need finally sated, we collapse into the sheets, bodies still humming with the aftershocks.

Lilia sighs softly against my hair, her arm draped lazily over my waist, her chest rising and falling steadily beneath me, and I feel her hand lazily tracing circles on my back.

I shift slightly, my leg sliding between hers, my fingers still ghosting over her skin, unable to stop touching her even in the aftermath.

Her skin is warm, still damp from sweat, her breathing slow and steady.

“Comfortable?” she murmurs, voice low and raspy, and I can hear the lingering amusement in it.

I nuzzle against her neck, pressing a lazy kiss to her collarbone. “Very.” My voice is heavy with sleep, and I can feel the exhaustion creeping in, but I don’t want to move. “You?”

She hums, her lips pressing against my temple in a slow, lingering kiss. “Mm. I could get used to this.”

My heart stutters at that, but I don’t say anything, just smile against her skin, letting myself bask in the warmth of her.

Minutes pass, maybe hours, time feels irrelevant when I’m wrapped around her like this. Lilia strokes her fingers through my hair absentmindedly, and I can feel her breathing slowing, the tension that always seems to cling to her finally easing away.

I sigh, letting my eyes flutter shut, my body melting against hers. “Don’t retreat in the morning,” I mumble sleepily, barely coherent, but needing to say it.

She chuckles softly, the sound vibrating through me. “I won’t, baby.”

And that’s enough for me. With her promise lingering in the air between us, I drift off, feeling safe, sated, and completely tangled in her. Tangled in her warmth, in her scent, in the quiet hum of her presence.

#lilia calderu x reader #lilia calderu #patti lupone #agatha all along #agatha all along fanfic

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witless-winion1 · 23 hours ago

Text

My thoughts on the paralyzed!Polites AU

(Which I really should do more research on; inspired by this)

Odysseus cries when Polites first wakes up

Eurylochus almost cries. Instead just let’s out a very shaky, relieved sigh and tells his friend “I’m glad you’re back”

his vision is messed with in that classic “Eye for an eye” vibe

His left arm is broken and yet he still insists on greeting the world with open arms

“Don’t you mean open arm?”

“You hush, Perimedes.”

So much survivor’s guilt but he’s very thankful to be alive and honors his fallen friends with Ody and everyone else

He basically can’t walk without help

Odysseus carves him a cane himself

It has a bunch of super cool details, including a winion

Polites adores it

(perhaps they go back to the Lotus Eater island and kidnap a winion for Polites? Like a comfort animal. Give Polites, my Disney Princess Pancake, a familiar plz)

But Polites needs a lot of help with things that require both arms or both legs or gods forbid all four

one dumbass numbnuts comments “would’ve been kinder to let him die” under his breath after Polites wakes up

Captain nearly throws him overboard

obviously

“My best friend would be delighted to live life in whatever form it came to him! You shut your fucking mouth and if I ever hear you ask such wretched nonsense again I’m going to put you on latrine duty for a month, am I understood?”

Eurylochus has to hold him back during this

Eurylochus also immediately assumes position of bodyguard of Polites.

He and Odysseus soon begin fighting over this job

they decide to share custody

(eventually)

OPEN ARMS REPRISES BUT HES ACTUALLY ALIVE!!!!

plot? Oh yeah plot

lmao what plot

after the Cyclopes passes out Ody is too busy making sure his friend is okay (which he is not). He gets somebody to check the other smashees and then stays by Poli’s side (no, he don’t give a shit that he’s captain, you guys go stab his eye, he’s asleep it’s not that fucking hard)

Odysseus carries Polites when the Cyclopes wakes up

he’s too busy thinking about getting him back to the ship and calling the best doctors from the 12 ships so he tells everyone to grab the sheep and HUSTLE

Athena grabs him and starts with her “HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN THE LESSONS I TAUGHT YOU? HE’S STILL A THRE-”

“ATHENA IM BUSY RN WE CAN TALK LATER”

“BUT HE’S STILL ALIVE-”

“WE’RE LEAVING BRO! HE’S NOT GONNA FUCKING SWIM AFTER US!”

they’re not on best terms for a while after that but they still reconcile after

then they get home! Whoop de do, congrant, 99.7777777778% of the canon plot avoided

when they get home and our sunshine is actually properly long-term treated, Odysseus and Telemachus’s first big father-son bonding project is to make Polites’ house more accessible for him

and Telemachus fucking loves Polites. Best Uncle Award. They vibe so hard that Odysseus cries

he almost cries when Penelope starts weaving clothes that are easier for his friend to wear. He’s a tiinnyyy bit jealous but he’s still so happy. And Penelope noticed and weaves her dear husband some clothes too, all his old ones are stinky asf

Eurylochus and all Poli’s friends from the ship still visit regularly. It’s just a big happy family

and nobody dies, not even Nobody

(except for those other guys from the Cyclopes cave but this ain’t about them)

#paralyzed Polites #Is that an official AU yet #Well fuck it I’m making it one #epic musical #epic polites #epic fandom #epic the musical #epic odysseus #epicthemusical #odysseus #epic #polites #polites epic the musical #epic eurylochus #epic fanfic #epic au #epic the musical au

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jilyawards · 3 days ago

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January

Now Everybody-- (completed, 4.6k) by @yallthemwitches. Rated T.

“He’s a muggleborn too, I think that’s why she likes him,” James says, now talking to no one but himself and the ceiling. “He listens to all the same muggle music, watches films… they probably go do cool muggle things like fairs and refrigerators… ride airplanes…” “Mate, I don’t think you do a refrigerator.” James ignores him, barreling onwards. “Meanwhile, I’m stuck here, basking in the feeling of how soft her skin was on my bloody arm like a fool.”

there's no place like home for the holidays (completed, 36,7k) by @thejilyship. Rated T.

Christmastime is hard. ~Lily~ Lily's life has recently exploded. She has moved twice in the last two months, broken up with a man she had thought she was going to marry, and is currently headed home to go to her sister's Christmas time wedding alone. Even though she and her sister argued over giving Lily a plus one quite explosively. And now she's got an asshole neighbor who basically shoved her down the stairs. ~James~ James has been in love with Marlene McKinnon since he was eleven. She has absolutely no interest in him, and his friends have tried just about everything they can think of to dissuade him from pinning for her. And his parents won't stop setting him up with their friends grandchildren. Because they're old and they think James needs help. What if someone were to assume that the two of them were dating when they're spotted in the airport together? What if they didn't correct them? What if they used their easy chemistry and proximity to make Christmastime that much easier for the both of them?

the road not taken (looks real good now) (completed, 3.2k) by @emmathecasualauthor. Not rated.

He blinks, forcing himself to focus, but it's all there in his mind, like it’s happening again. Or: James sees Lily at a bookshop in muggle London

keep pace (completed, 8.6k) by @gigglesandfreckles-hp. Rated T.

“So,” she says after a moment, her voice light, “is this a thing you do? Invite girls to kill themselves on a run after you find them crying. Or am I special?” Sirius laughs. It’s a sharp sound, almost surprised, but it makes her stomach loosen. “You’re special,” he says dryly, finally turning to look at her properly. He watches her for a beat longer than she expects, like he’s searching for something in her face—some answer she doesn’t know how to give. Whatever it is, he seems to find it.

The One Sharp, Tangible Thing (completed, 2.2k) by @yallthemwitches. Rated T.

“It’s horrid for you, you know.” “No worries–I do loads of things that are bad for me,” he smirks. “Oh? Like what?” He falters, the rushing stream of banter getting interrupted by a fork in the river. Maybe she is imagining it, but she sees the words start to form on his lips. Fancying you.

White Winter Hymnals (completed, 16k) by @tedwardremus. Rated G.

Holiday themed jily snippets from age eleven to adulthood

Afterglow (completed, 1.3k) by @yallthemwitches. Rated T.

A soft silence falls over them, strangely comfortable given the circumstances. She can feel his heartbeat against her forearm, a defiant thump thump thump that serves as a reminder that yes, you are in his bed with his hand over your body and his face unreasonably close to yours.

At Least I'm Gonna Say That I Tried (completed, 5.8k) by @yallthemwitches. Rated T.

“Call me what you want, Evans. I deserve it,” he pants, “But then I’m going to need you to make my Christmas wish come true a few more times because – Merlin– I’ll do anything for it.”

Betting on It (completed, 700 words) by @chierafied. Rated T.

If Lily hadn’t downed those last two tequila shots, she might’ve wondered how she ended up here: squinting at the cards she’d been dealt while sneaking appreciative glances at the very impressive set of abs.

Bad Egg (completed, 1.1k) by @annabtg. Rated G.

Lily's greatest fear lurks on the breakfast table.

Eternal Recurrence (WIP, 15.6k as of 31 Jan 2025) by @girlhoodpostmortem. Not rated.

"This was always going to happen. She’s been dead since the beginning." - The Oresteia A Marauders fic inspired by The Book Thief by Markus Zusak/inspired by a textpost by @pomegranateroot15 on Tumblr.

November/December recs available HERE!

#jily fandom rec list 2025

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quarterlifekitty · 11 hours ago

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wifey here again with stepdad!Nik, so I think SD would insist on finishing college since she only has like a year left anyway and because she feels like she'll be able to get a job easier with a degree, she doesn't wanna be a burden. Nikolai ofc lets her finish college, it keeps her busy while at home, settling in nicely to their house. He takes care of her every need, and slowly starts to convince her that she doesn't owe him anything, she's his wife now, or soon to be at the very least. All she needs to do is stay home and worry about their little one. Anytime she has doubts about how much he wants her and wants to provide for her she gets reminded thoroughly. It's when SD's bump is getting noticeable that Nik really steps it up. "What if we both miss the important moments?" and SD eventually is like "yeah, okay, but if it ever becomes a burden I'll get a job" and Nik is real proud of himself. SD also becomes very needy, in just the way Nik loves, she wants to be with him as much as possible and needs help a lot because hormones are fucking with her. And she definitely thanks him plenty for his help whenever she can. Bonus NikPrice x SD reader John decides to visit Nik and his new bird since on their last mission Nikolai wouldn't shut up about her and he immediately gets why when he sees SD, she's so sweet and nurturing and she looks gorgeous all round with Nik's kid, stays a few nights and gets drunk one night and jokingly (sorta) tells Nik he'd love to put the next one in her and Nikolai just hums with a smile "why not?" and reader is suddenly being flirted with by her fiance/husband's friend. Is real worried about it cause she likes it and guility goes to Nik who is 1. Very pleased by her honesty and 2. reassures her and tells her that he's okay with it if she is. (Totally wasn't his plan to get his two favorite people together so he could have them both, nope, that's totally not why he raved about her to John and not one other soul. Mmhm)

Also im really sorry if once again this doesn't make sense, stress has got me by a chokehold lately and its making my brain bad lol

Ooooooh wifey you are killing me. Isn’t that the perfect solution, though? You’re so worried about being a burden, let’s bring in another source of income!!

You know. Maybe it’s kinda degrading. But I totally imagine Nik comes up with little tasks for her. Let’s be real, it’s so easy— he saw what her mother was like, he can see how starved she is for approval, it practically blinds her. Things like “I want us to get a new car with some more space before the baby comes— can you research what models are best for family? You have a better mind for things like that than me,” he says with an almost sheepish smile. You’re practically wagging your tail with excitement— and you just look so happy when you present all of your work and he seems so pleased with you.

Also, in a bit of darker move, I can imagine if you’re not as into John as all that— they come up with a story. They say that John wants to have a baby of his own, but he’s not married, and he wants to have a kid before he’s too old and his career gets in the way of romance. So he would love for you to be like a surrogate for him. You’ve done so well with this first pregnancy, and you’re still so young— plus! John would be willing to pay, so it’d be like you’ve got your own income to help out!

The only thing is that John believes in natural conception. And he wants to live with you both during the pregnancy to help out. And he doesn’t actually plan on leaving once you have his kid. And Nik knows how sensitive and caring you are— when you confess to him your doubts about giving the baby up for good once it’s born, he comforts you. Of course he’ll talk to John about it, milaya, he’s sure they can come to an agreement.

#wifey #idk if I’m tagging anything right I don’t remember what I did last time #writing #cod fanfic #john price x reader #John price #Nikolai #Nikolai cod #Nikolai x reader #stepdad!nik #Cw stepcest #Cw coercion #cw manipulative

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lavenderchqn · 1 day ago

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✧・┆drunk on love — lyney

— it's the evening of lyney's birthday when you receive a call to retrieve your drunk partner from the lovely hands of his friend group's.

this piece is set after the story of red lines, although it works as a standalone read~

content warning: lyney is drunk. he's silly, but he's drunk.

Your eyes are barely open when your phone rings. You’ve been trying to finish correcting your master thesis for the entire evening, after sending your boyfriend out to spend his birthday with his friends. Taking a glance at the caller, as well as the time, you notice it’s Wriothesley.

You answer the phone, worry already seeping into your mind. “Hello?”. There are so many things that could’ve gone wrong… given Lyney’s ability to handle alcohol.

“Hi,” Wriothesley says breathlessly, sounding more than exhausted. “Sorry to be calling you so late.”

“It’s alright, what’s up?” You interrupt, drumming your other hand on your keyboard. “You sound miserable, man.”

“Tell me about it…” He says voice muffled as if he’s covered his mouth with his hand. “I hate being the designated driver on nights like these.”

“They made you the designated driver?!” Shock fills your voice. “You didn’t drink, did you?”

“I didn’t, don’t worry—“ Wriothesley laughs. “Quite amusing to see this lot completely drunk. I mean, Neuvillette has been crying about Furina breaking one of her nails for the entire time.”

“Ahh, gotcha.” You nod to yourself, hoping that the man will get back on track soon. “Do you need my help with something?” You ask. Wriothesley calling you is not something that happens regularly. At most, he'd only send you embarrassing pictures of your boyfriend.

“Lyney’s been calling out for you since he took a shot of whiskey. I don’t think I can take him, Furina and Neuvillette home without a drink myself in between…”

As if on cue, Lyney — the man in question — seems to notice he’s being talked about that. You can hear a sudden movement followed by a cheerful laugh.

“Hi, baby!~” Lyney’s voice seems more joyous than ever. Yeah, that man is as drunk as a kite. “I miss you so so so much!!”

“Having fun?” You ask, a small smile gracing your face. Given how stressful the winter season was for everyone involved, with the ever-nearing period of defending their scientific titles approaching, you felt nothing but happiness that Lyney went out to celebrate his birthday with his friends.

“Not the same without youu…” With how he's speaking, there must be a small pout on his face — his eyebrows knit. “No, no no… Wrio, let me talk man…” Ah. Wriothesley must be making a deal with your boyfriend to retrieve his phone.

“As I was saying,” The sole sober person speaks. “You’d do me a huge favour by coming to pick your prince.”

“I’ll go put on my shoes and be on the way.” You say. “Just send me the address. Oh, and don’t allow Lyney to drink more, alright?”

“Will do. Thanks, and sorry, again”

The message containing the group’s location comes the moment you end the call. Dressing yourself in anything comfortable, you’re ready to head out and take Lyney’s car. Ever since getting your driver’s license, he swore the only car you’d ever need is his.

Luckily the road is not too crowded, nor glistened from the rain despite all the inside jokes of Neuvillette’s tears causing it. You arrive without much issue, already spotting the group as you pull up to the parking lot.

Wriothesley is busy balancing an asleep Furina and Neuvillette who keeps on sobbing, head supported on his shoulder. Lyney’s standing on his two feet, zipping up his jacket. Lovely. Perhaps getting him back to the house will be easier than expected. He seems to spot you, approaching as you park the vehicle.

His eyes curve into straight lines as he breaks into a smile. Swaying from side to side, he throws himself into your embrace, burying his face into your shoulder. “Missed youuu”

“One child less to care for?” You ask Wriothesley while patting Lyney’s head.

“Unless you turn the car around…” He chuckles, readjusting Neuvillette’s position. “Thanks for the help, really.”

“Happy to help, Wrio.” With that, you split — each of you heading to their car. With the way you’re both basically dragging other people, it does take a while. “Message me when you’re home!” You shout as he’s settling his friends into the backseat.

“You too!”

“You’re going need to let go of me, Love.” You say, still patting Lyney’s head. It’s been almost five minutes of you standing out in the cold, your partner too clingy to allow you to drive the two of you back. “I promise you, once we’re home you’ll get all the cuddles.”

The blonde turns his head, looking directly at you. It’s unfair, you think, that even underneath this lighting, he still looks like a statue. His hair is unusually curly, and a pair of glasses is balancing on his nose. Not to mention the pure delight in his violet eyes, matching the warm, albeit drunk smile.

“Pinky?” He extends his finger, looking determined. Of course, he’d make you promise something as silly as this. You quickly interlock with one of your own, moving afterwards to open his door.

“Get in,” You smile, holding the door for him. “You’re the passenger prince today.”

All you can hear back is the tiny gibberish thoughts of a drunken man. You help him with the safety belt, and only when you confirm he’s actually buckled in, do you take your designated driver’s seat.

For the first time during your ride, it’s completely quiet. You’re unsure if Lyney’s fallen asleep, but checking the overhead mirror tells you his eyes are very much awake. His head sways slightly as if he was listening to music.

“What’s on the playlist?” You ask, leaning your head towards him, as to signal you’re talking to him.

“Marry you.”

You blink, momentarily distracted by his response. “Marry you? That’s what's in your head right now?" You tease, stealing a quick glance in his direction.

Lyney nods enthusiastically, though the movement is a bit too exaggerated in his tipsy state. “Yep! As Bruno says… It’s a beautiful night,” he slurs with a dreamy smile. “I wanna marry youuuuu.” His voice, although off-key, is filled with unmistakable affection, and it takes everything in you not to laugh.

“You’re so drunk, baby.” You say with a chuckle, shaking your head at him missing some of the words.

“But I’m honest!” He protests, his pout returning. “I think we should… should get married. Like, tomorrow. Or maybe today? We’re both free today!”

“Lyney,” You sigh, though you can’t hide the grin tugging at your lips. “You’re not even going to remember this conversation in the morning.”

“Will too!” He insists, crossing his arms in a huff, though his coordination betrays him and he almost smacks himself in the face. “I’ll remember everything. Like how much I love you, and how I wanna spend all my birthdays with you. And how…” His voice trails off, softer now. “How you’re the best thing in my whole world.”

Your heart squeezes at his words, even if they’re fuelled by alcohol. “Alright, my sweet drunk prince,” You say gently. “Let’s get you home first, and then we can talk about this… grand proposal of yours.”

“Promise?” He mumbles, already starting to doze off.

“I promise,” You reply softly, glancing at him through the mirror again. His eyelids are drooping, his lips curled into a content smile as sleep claims him.

date of posting — february 2nd 2025

#lavv.writes #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fanfiction #genshin impact fanfics #genshin oneshots #genshin scenarios #genshin impact scenario #genshin impact fluff #lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyney x y/n

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immoral-stranger · 14 hours ago

Text

𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐞 // 𝐋𝐍𝟒

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟏. 🍓 “You’ve never done me wrong, except for that one time we don’t talk about.” – Boygenius, True Blue.

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: none? maybe they're a little horny? this shit is too sweet. it'll give you cavities. oh and you need to have read linger beforehand to understand the dynamic and characters in this.

A/N: my babies Lando and Bunny make a comeback. takes place like a year after the original fic. please tell me what you think ♡

Summer break for Lando usually consisted of long days on a beach somewhere warm. Yachts, beach clubs, and sand between his toes. After dusk, his summer break consisted of long nights in the VIP section at some club. House music, sweaty bodies, and alcohol.

Getting up at 8 in the morning to take a casual jog around a suburban area in England wouldn’t have been on his agenda if you’d had asked him a year ago when he was painfully single.

Now, there was no place he’d rather be. Now, summer was different. It was softer, simpler, an, to his complete and utter surprise, infinitely better.

Because you didn’t like Ibiza, or Saint Tropez, or even Monaco. You would compromise and say that it was fine at times, but Lando could see through you like glass. You tolerated the extravagance, but it never made you light up in the same way being at home did. Would it have been easier if you liked the country he lived in? Sure, but it wasn’t like Lando hated England. With a certain disconnect, he actually loved the place. He grew up there. His family was there. You were there.

So, as much as his phone pinged with Instagram stories of his friends posing behind DJ booths or lounging on sunbeds, he didn’t envy them. He couldn’t complain.

Not when he was jogging through the quiet streets of your neighbourhood, the soft morning breeze brushing against his skin, the world still drowsy with sleep.

Not when he knew what was waiting for him when he got back—what he would find as he ran up the pathway to your childhood home, up the stairs, and behind the door with a Moulin Rouge poster blu-tacked to it.

The gravel crunched beneath his feet as he slowed to a walk, approaching the house that had, over time, started to feel more like home than his own place. He jogged up the front steps, slipping inside, already anticipating the comfort of warm, sleepy domesticity that awaited him upstairs.

But first, a shower. He wasn’t an idiot. He wouldn’t crawl into bed with you, still sticky from his run. And he made tea—you liked waking up to tea.

The old wooden floors creaked as he entered your bedroom. He felt himself smiling before he could even take in the full sight of you. You were sat on the bed, a notebook in your lap as you scribbled down something, chewing on your bottom lip in concentration. He loved your bedroom. It warmed his heart over and over again to step into an atmosphere that was you and only you. A white, sheer canopy hung over your bed, twinkling even in the bright summer morning from the fairy lights tangled up in it.

He recognised the t-shirt you were wearing as one that had once been his, but he didn’t complain. How could he? Beneath it, just visible, were underwear he’d given you as a joke—because buying you expensive lingerie was pointless when your favourite style was always cheeky boy shorts. These, in particular, were innocent enough in white cotton—except for the bold, hot pink Playboy bunny logos scattered across them.

Lando had developed a habit of getting you things with bunnies on them, and you had developed a habit of wearing them just to humour him.

“Morning, Bun-Bun.”

Your head lifted, eyes blinking away the haze of deep focus. You still looked newly awakened. He could see the way your mind slowly reeled itself back from wherever it had wandered as you took in the sight of him, freshly showered and shirtless in your doorway.

“Oh, you made tea?” Your voice was soft as you reached for one of the mugs he was carrying, fingers curling around the warmth. “Have I told you how much I love you?”

Lando grinned, climbing onto the bed beside you. He settled against the headboard, careful not to spill his own tea as he stretched his legs out beneath the covers. “Only daily.”

He had never been one to crave stillness before—his life had always been a constant blur, and he liked it that way. But here, in your childhood bedroom, wrapped in soft edges and familiar scents, he felt something rare; he felt safe. It was almost like make-believe, the canopy overhead and your floral seersucker bedsheets making him feel as if he’d tumbled into a fairytale, Alice in Wonderland-style. And for once, he wasn’t desperate to leave.

You looked over at him as you took a long sip of your tea. Wordlessly, he took your mug when you were done, placing it on the nightstand together with his own. Your gaze flickered down to his bare chest, lingering for half a second too long before your brows lifted.

“You should really put a shirt on,” you remarked.

Lando’s laughter was low and unbothered. “We’re alone in this house.”

“What if my dad comes home? Or Matteo decides to get a ride home with one of his friends?”

Lando exhaled through his nose, amused. You always found things to question. Even the littlest things. Or things that didn’t even make sense half the time. He was lucky he liked hearing your voice so much. If he had once believed you to be shy and reserved, he now knew the opposite.

“Your dad is still in Manchester for work, which is fourhours away. And need I remind you that Matteo asked for us to pick him up from his sleepover at one o’clock? It’s only nine,” he explained, smiling. “Admit it, you just don’t want to see me shirtless because it’s distracting.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes as you tucked your legs beneath you, pulling your notebook closer. “Okay, yeah. I really need to finish this.”

If you hadn’t been so intent on finishing what you were writing, and if Lando hadn’t revelled in the tranquillity of the morning, he would have already pinned you beneath him, taking you—devouring you—right there under the twinkling canopy. No hesitation. No shame. Just want. Just need.

But it could wait. All you had was time with each other. That was a beautiful thing in and of itself.

Lando shifted, inching closer, his chin resting lightly on your shoulder as he peered down at your scrawled-out notes. The faint scratch of your pen against paper filled the comfortable silence. He couldn’t really see what words you were writing down, but he knew why you were writing and that it was becoming slightly urgent to finish it.

“I still can’t believe they’re making us do this,” Lando groaned after a moment. “Holding a speech at their wedding? Couldn’t they have asked Oscar’s sisters? Or Jasmine’s overly excited mother?”

“They wanted one simple, nice, and kind speech,” you reminded him. “Oscar’s sisters would roast him into oblivion, and Jasmine’s mother would never stop crying. You know this as much as they do.”

Lando huffed. “But still, Bunny… I’m too awkward.”

“Which is why we’re doing it together. You’re lucky I’m such a good actor.”

“That you are.”

Lando watched as you scribbled down another note, the glimmer of determination in your eyes something he could never get enough of.

A simple, late summer wedding in the English countryside. Just mere weeks away, and you and Lando were toastmasters. He hadn’t even known that was a thing before Jasmine had run him over with wedding preparations. You were, of course, also her maid of honour. Lando had already seen the dress she had picked out for you, and while the wedding was an exciting thing overall, he really couldn’t wait to see you all dolled up in a gown.

“Have you written anything yourself?” you asked him, looking up from your notebook.

Picking up his phone, Lando scrolled through his notes, looking for the right one. “I, uhm… I wrote down a little joke about the first time he introduced me to Jasmine and how she said she would hang me by my underwear from a flagpole outside the MTC if I ever crashed into him.”

“Sounds like her,” you laughed, leaning over to see his screen, practically falling over him in the process, making a mess of the ruffled sheets between you. “Wait, you’re writing their wedding speech in your notes app?”

Lando didn’t understand what was so wrong about it. He would have to memorise it anyway. Or, at least, he thought so. Standing there, in front of an entire wedding reception, with a cue card of sorts would feel insincere.

“You’re writing your part in a Hello Kitty notebook with a glitter gel pen,” he pointed out, picking up your notebook, looking at your sparkly pink handwriting.

He found even the smallest things about you completely adorable.

“It’s still more thoughtful than using an iPhone,” you shot back, grinning.

Lando draped his arm around your waist, gently pulling you closer until you were nestled against him, your head resting softly on his bare chest. He glanced down at what you'd written, a smile tugging at his lips as he read about Oscar and Jasmine's first date—one you'd helped plan. It had gone horribly wrong when Oscar got lost on public transport and showed up 40 minutes late. A 16-year-old Jasmine had called you, crying, just as Oscar arrived, catching her mid-rant, snot running from her nose. From that moment on, Oscar had been completely soft for her—and probably never showed up late again.

“I can’t believe those two are getting married. They are younger than I am,” Lando heard himself say, almost sighing at the realisation.

“Mhm, because you’re so old,” you joked, your palm hitting his chest lightly.

The two-year age gap between you and him didn’t seem like much. But seeing how Jasmine and Oscar, who were your exact age, were already so far ahead in their relationship sparked an undeniable sense of dread in him about ageing. He felt both ancient and a little behind.

“It makes sense, though. They’ve been dating since they were, what, sixteen?”

You nodded. He felt your hair as it moved up and down against his skin. “My parents had me and got married by twenty-two. It’s not that uncommon.”

Lando’s brow furrowed. “You think Jasmine’s pregnant?”

“That’s not at all what I said.”

He looked down at you, catching the sheepish smile on your face. It was probably for the best. He couldn’t handle someone younger than him having kids. Especially when those kids would probably call him uncle in the future. That felt backwards. His own nieces were enough to get the cogwheels turning in his head about that he should probably start thinking about having a family of his own.

A moment of quiet followed, the weight of his next question pressing before he even asked it. The look on his face made it clear he had something serious to say, his fingers drumming absentmindedly against the bedsheet as he gathered his thoughts.

“Do you ever think about marriage yourself?” he wondered softly.

Your breath caught slightly at the question, eyes flickering to him as you searched for his intent. “To you? Or in general?”

Lando huffed a small, amused laugh, but there was a nervous edge to it. “I’d hope it be with me.”

“Sometimes,” you admitted. Your voice was vulnerable, but there was no hesitation. “I think we could make it work.”

Lando’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile, one that made his dimples dip into his cheeks. “I want Matteo as ring bearer,” he mused, his tone lighter now, “and we’re getting revenge on Jasmine and Oscar by making them do a long-ass speech. Maybe a choreographed dance.”

You snorted. “Mhm, and what would that speech be about?”

“Definitely how you got a nosebleed the first time I tried to kiss you.” His grin widened as he glanced at you, eyes alight with mischief. “Or how they heard us have sex through the walls of that Italian villa.”

Your cheeks burnt at the memory, heat crawling up your neck. “Lando!” you groaned, shoving at his arm as he burst into laughter, the sound filling the space with just as much light as the sun filtering through lace curtains.

He nudged his knee against yours beneath the sheets, his laughter softening into something more affectionate. “Maybe they’ll just roast me into oblivion, because they like you more than they like me.”

“That’s not true,” you murmured, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. “I don’t think they have many bad things to say about you.”

“I’ve been an idiot so many times.”

“Nuh-uh.” You shook your head firmly. “You’ve never done me wrong… except for that one time we don’t talk about.”

Lando blinked, confused. “Wait, what? I don’t know what moment your talking about.”

He was forgetful and sometimes a little ignorant. In reality, he probably thought he’d done you wrong about a million different times. But he couldn’t think of a single defining moment that you would’ve deemed as the most fragile in your relationship.

“Was it when I forgot your birthday?” he guessed.

“You’ve never forgotten my birthday?” you said, almost like a question, as a crease formed between your brows.

“Oh, you didn’t realise? Our weekend to New York that was totally planned and not at all because Jasmine called me the night before your birthday to ask what I had gotten you?” Lando couldn’t help but let out a little pathetic laugh.

In his defence, no one had mentioned that it was your birthday to him. And he also hadn’t thought about asking or remembering the date. He was lucky to have had time off when it did happen. One private jet and a hotel stay later, you’d had a perfect birthday in New York City, seeing a Broadway show for the first time.

“I didn’t know about that!” you exclaimed, a look of mock horror painted on your face. “But no matter what, I still had a lovely time there, so I would never say that was a wrongdoing from your side.”

“I guess Jasmine is better at keeping secrets than I thought,” Lando mumbled to himself, still thinking about what you could be thinking of. “Was it when I accidentally stood Matteo up? You cried and yelled at me because of that.”

That was the first and only time you’d yelled at him out of anger. Out of sadness or anxiety, you’d done it multiple times before. But you weren’t the angry type. So when it slipped his mind that he should’ve taken Matteo to an England football game instead of Max, you had uncharacteristically lashed out on him. It wasn’t necessarily because of the game, but because of the principle of letting down an 11-year-old little boy.

“I didn’t yell,” you corrected him.

“No, you did.” Lando smiled gently. “I deserved it, though. You were being protective of your baby brother, and I was being a muppet for not remembering what I’d promised him.”

“It’s still not what I had in mind,” you said, shaking your head.

“Okay, you’ve stumped me. What are you talking about?”

You bit your lip, watching him carefully before whispering,“After Brazil last year.” His face softened at the realisation. “You were awake for like two days straight and refused to speak to anyone.”

Lando exhaled through his nose, gaze flickering down, hands fidgeting now. He was letting you continue, although he found the words difficult to hear.

“We never really talked that through,” you continued, meeting his gaze. “And you feeling so bad and not letting me help you made me feel like the worst girlfriend in the world.”

His hand found yours beneath the sheets, thumb stroking over your knuckles in silent apology.

“And I’ll always understand that your job is nothing like anything I’ve ever experienced, and I’ll never blame you for being distant at times or closed off because of it.” You squeezed his hand gently, grounding him. “But for two days straight? Yeah, do that again and… I’ll be the one to hang you from a flagpole.”

A breath of laughter escaped him, but it was almost out of embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Bun-Bun.”

“I know you are,” you murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to his shoulder, lingering just long enough for him to feel the warmth of your lips against his skin.

A beat passed before Lando cleared his throat, picking up your notebook to stare at the messy handwriting again. “What do I get if I finish this fucking speech?”

You smirked. “Naked cuddles?”

“Sold.”

“Do I not get anything? I feel like I’ve written most of it anyway,” you teased, quirking a brow at him.

Lando studied you for a moment, his lips twitching. “I think your hopeless romantic ass secretly adores doing this for them.” He kissed your temple, his breath warm against your skin. “But sure, I can give you a reward,” he added, pressing another quick kiss just below your ear.

A third kiss was placed on your neck, and a fourth on your collarbone. You felt the wetness from his lips as he started to gently suck on your delicate skin, his hand travelling under your shirt to cup your breast in his open palm.

“Can I play with it soft?” you whispered under your breath, swallowing down a moan.

Lando groaned dramatically, letting his head fall back against the pillow as he momentarily stopped touching you, acting appalled.

“Anything but that, Bunny. Anything but that.”

Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think ♡

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