#the ice plague today

[crossbackpoke-check]

Dysprosium, Mary Soon Lee

dysprosium, AN 66, is a silvery-white rare earth metal. its name is derived from the greek dysprositos, meaning “hard to get at”, owing to the difficulty in separating and isolating this rare earth element. dysprosium is used to measure neutron flux, to fuel reactors, and to activate phosphors. terfenol-d is a magnetorestrictive alloy, meaning that it changes shape when a magnetic field is applied, and is used to manufacture underwater acoustic systems.

jason “robo” robertson, dallas stars #21 for @simmyfrobby’s nhl periodic table poems <3

[rubys-domain]

I'm upset

[defmaybe]

Noona from the Bar

IVE's Kim Gaeul x Male Reader

5.2k words

A/N: Ahh, my debut! Thanks to @msafterhours and @i-am-lifeform24 for editing and beta-reading! And thanks to all the kind writers and fellow readers who have been nothing but supportive of me. I know my skills aren’t really up to the task yet (I have a Minji-Haewon 15k draft with broken grammar sitting lol), but I’ll seek my way through it. Thanks for reading!

—

It’s Friday night. The sound of the electronic beats echo throughout the bar, accompanied with the shaking bass. Customers are cramped into small tables, shuffling together to accommodate the enormous crowd. And there you are, sitting in front of the vacant stage, which, to your knowledge, is usually reserved for the band to play, with the Nordic-esque climate sending shivers through your body.

Leehan and Sungho dragged you with a few other guys here after your sophomore finals. You wouldn’t say that it’s a chore, but there are definitely better things to do than get drunk. These two are the most outgoing guys of your diverse group. Meanwhile, you aren’t much of a social butterfly, preferring the more busy student council member life. Sitting in between them, you can only scroll through your phone to pass the time.

“To our grades!” Sungho raises his glass and looks around, inviting you and the other friends to join him.

“To our grades,” you say, barely able to hear your own voice before clinking your glass with others.

You chug half your beer, ready for a long night, your friends laughing as they do the same.

Sungho sighs, putting down his drink, and saying, “Thanks to Seokjin, or we wouldn’t have today, drinking beers and listening to music!”

All eyes on your table turns to Seokjin, the kind, quiet nerd of your group. “It’s nothing really, you’re my friends, and—”

“To Seokjin!” Leehan puts his glass up for another toast, while Seokjin scans around him, seeing all his friends doing the same, smiling. 

“Thanks, guys.” Seokjin says, as he raises his glass for a toast with yours.

—

As the night goes on, the music shows no sign of calming down. NewJeans booms through the speakers, interspersed with remixes of local songs. Alcohol has started to take hold of you, plaguing your inhibition with sharp tingles as you chug your glass away.

“Shit, I have to go to the bathroom,” Leehan suddenly says.

“I’m coming with you,” Namjoon follows. “Anyone else?”

Everyone around the table stands up except for you, and you watch as they shoot you apologetic glances. “Watch the table for us!” Sungho shouts at you, his voice struggling to carry through the loud music. “Use your student committee power to protect this table or whatever.”

“Fine, and I’m only a secretary, by the way. Don’t be gone for too long.” You smile, waving to your friends as they leave one by one. 

“I think Leehan is going to stay there for quite a while. I saw him heaving a bit earlier,” Seokjin sighs, worried.

Your eyes widen. “Well, I’ll wait for you guys here. Take your time,” you assure Seokjin, with him gesturing a thanks with a grateful smile. 

—

On the other side of the bar, another group revels as their finals come to an end.

“Jiwon, pass me the liquor, please,” Gaeul asks.

Jiwon holds the half-full rum bottle. “Gaeul, this is your fourth glass of the night. Are you sure you wanna drink more?”

Gaeul scoffs, voice already slurring. “Yeah, why not?” 

“Well, the last time this happened, I was holding your head above my toilet by the sixth shot,” Yujin adds.

“It will be different this time, come on~” Gaeul pleads, sulking in her chair, matched by her descending tone.

“Fine,” Jiwon huffs, finally passing the rum to Gaeul. “I’m not holding your hair again, though,” she pouts, with Yujin nodding in agreement.

“Thanks!” Gaeul pours the drink into her ice-filled glass before topping the golden liquor with cola. She glances around her table. “I promise, I’ll be the one who holds Wonyoung—,” her stream of thoughts is cut off, as she catches your presence not too far from her, alone, sliding one video after another, gleaming her with flame.

Yujin follows her sight to you. “Well, well, another freshman, huh?” She scoffs.

“Oh, come on, I never get to do this. God, Jiwon brought like three guys to her place in the same month before,” Gaeul deflects.

“Hey!” Jiwon reaches to slap her hand. “You say that like it’s an insult.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” Gaeul pouts, making Jiwon roll her eyes, smiling.

“If you want him, then go get him!” Wonyoung adds. “We may not have another chance in our senior year. They are going to kill us with those goddamn projects.” She takes a sip from her glass and contorts her face after that.

“You know men don’t like older women, right?” Gaeul turns her head back onto Wonyoung, who’s still trying to make peace with the content of her glass. “He’d say no.”

Yujin laughs, “That attitude is why you’ve brought no one back to your place!” She pushes Gaeul’s drink into its owner’s hand, pointing at her face. 

“Don’t live to regret this.”

Gaeul taps the table with her fingers rapidly, contemplating her approach. Her friends watch her hesitation with anticipation, until Gaeul retorts, “Alright, fine. If that’ll make you guys happy,” before getting up from her chair and walking towards you, glancing back to see her peers watch the scene unfold from afar.

—

It has been twenty minutes since your friends left. You are caught under the crushing weight of the foreign sounds and solitude among the crowd. Leehan is probably having his face in the toilet. And being the good friend you are, you bring up your phone to text Seokjin to ask about the situation.

Before you hit send, a sound comes from your right, catching your attention.

“Hi!”

You turn to see a woman with short, raven black hair standing before you. Her hand is holding a glass of what your best guess seems to be cola. Her nails are cut short and plain. She’s wearing a black cardigan that somehow shows off her lean curves. Her jeans don't make it even easier for you, leaving you with little to imagine.

“Is this seat taken?” she asks, bending down to hover her glass above Sungho’s seat.

“Hey!” You greet her. “Yeah, it’s taken. I’m sorry about that.” You plant your hand on the vacant chair, inadvertently touching her long fingers, eliciting a giggle from her.

“Shit, sorry! …Again.” You pull your hand back as you feel her warm skin. You can feel a small fire in your cheeks.

Gaeul lifts her glass to cover herself laughing. “Haha, it’s fine. Still, are your friends coming back soon? I’m kinda looking for… company tonight.”

It’s quite rare to find someone approaching you, let alone stating their romantic needs this clearly. Yet, it’s a bar after all; alcohol strips people’s inhibitions off here. And who are you to say no to this beautiful woman?

“Oh, sure! They are probably taking care of my friend in the toilet. Go ahead.” You gesture at her to sit down, as she moves the chair a little to comply.

“I’m Gaeul, by the way.” She offers you a handshake, smiling, to which you happily accept. Unlike yours, her hand is silky soft, 

“Hi, Gaeul. I’m from engineering, civil. What do you study?” You ask.

“Architecture! I’m just beside you, haha,” as she pulls her hand back and placing her glass on your table. The architecture faculty is bordering your engineering main building, and you’ve walked past it often during lunchtime.

“Have I met you before?” You inquire, squinting your eyes on you to examine her shadowed features.

“I don’t think so. I would have remembered you with that face.” Gaeul playfully points at your face, chuckling.

You chuckle along to hide the fact that she’s really influencing you with such an irresistible charm. “Thanks, I guess.”

“What year are you in?” Gaeul asks. “I’ve recently finished my junior finals. I made a lot of home models this year.” She rolls her eyes and sighs while recounting her experience.

“You are a year above me. I’m just a sophomore.” You answer.

“So, I’m your noona, right?” She giggles, tapping your shoulder softly with her finger.

“Yes, Gaeul noona,” you pout, placing your hands on your thighs.

Gaeul giggles, “No need, haha. Just Gaeul is fine, really.”

“Alright, Gaeul.” You smile along with her.

The night with Gaeul advances, while you quickly forget about your friends taking care of Leehan. You learn about her aspirations of being an architect, and how she also hates drawing to death. 

“And you want to become an architect?” you ask, baffled in such contradiction.

“Yeah, haha, I’ve always loved elegant buildings, and I really want to create them myself as I grow up.” Gaeul smiles, gladly sharing her wishes. 

She continues, “But when it comes to drawing, I’ve always had the feeling of having to perfect them. And that eats up a lot of my energy, really.”

“So, you’re a perfectionist?” you continue to shoot questions at her, giggling.

Gaeul laughs. “You can say that.”

She then tells you about the pets at her home, as she learns about your ambitions. And you feel like the conversation is sparking everywhere; it flows like the alcohol in your blood, suppressing your shyness just for her.

—

“Yeah! I just got my driver’s license a few months ago.” The clock strikes almost ten, over half an hour after your first words with her, and the topic is lingering on driving at the moment.

Gaeul takes a deep breath before gaining the courage to ask. “Hey, do you want to go back to my place?”

“Really?” you ask.

“Yeah, talking in here doesn’t give us much privacy.” Gaeul seems to be going all-in here.

Unable to bother yourself under these waves of songs you can’t sing along to anymore, you answer in a quickfire, “Sure! Where do you live, though?”

Gaeul points her thumb behind her, towards the outside. “Just across this bar. I usually have my friends crashing for the night if they can’t walk to their dorms.”

“Lead the way, then.”

—

“Well, show’s over, girls,” Jiwon huffs, seeing Gaeul guiding you out of the bar. “It’s the three of us now. Anyone you guys are eyeing on?”

Yujin and Wonyoung shrug. “Let’s just enjoy the rest of the night first,” Wonyoung says.

“Yeah.” Yujin adds and signals a toast, as Jiwon and Wonyoung join her.

—

Gaeul unlocks the door to her room before leading you inside. Her room is pretty tidy, aside from the lump of unfolded clothes on her bed on the left, covered by brown bedsheets. She has a few stuffed animals sitting at the top of it: some Care Bears, a cylinder piggy doll, with Shaun the Sheep gracefully sitting in the middle, and a few more aquatic animals.

“I’m saving up my money to buy my fifth Care Bear,” Gaeul says with a smile, determination sparks in her eyes.

On the opposite side, there’s a drawing table with a few sketches of buildings, showcasing her architecture works. You close the door and lock it for her.

Noticing the mess, she darts toward the bed. “It’s a little messy, sorry,” she says, picking up the pile before cramming it inside her closet. “I didn’t have time to take care of it when I was coming out.”

“I don’t mind, really.” You smile, understanding her struggle of doing laundry.

Gaeul smiles back as she shuts her closet door. “Where were we again?” she leans against it, giving you a questioning look.

“I—,” you pause, further taking in the atmosphere of her room. You find a few movie posters on her wall above the bed: Thirteen, Little Women, and After Hours are the ones standing out. She also has her Jubilee vinyl on display just by her table.

“So, you like Japanese Breakfast?” you ask, before she follows your gaze onto the album. You’ve never expected someone you find at a bar to listen to Michelle Zauner’s band, to be honest.

“Yeah, it was my sister’s before she moved out,” Gaeul answers. “But the album itself is pretty good. I pick it up now and then to let it loop while I’m drawing.”

“I’ve heard about its quality.” You tap your fingers on your thighs, eyes darting everywhere except onto her.

Gaeul taps her chin in a staccato rhythm; she seems as unsure of her next action as you do. The humming of the air conditioner lulls from behind her. She ponders for a while, before stepping towards you.

“You know the implications, right?”

And that’s it; the way she says ‘right’ tingles you in a peculiar way. Gaeul looks into your eyes as she does, eliciting an indescribable feeling inside you. Your hands shake as she closes her distance to the point where you can feel her breathing.

“May I?” she asks, lips just inches away from yours.

“S—sure,” you stutter out in front of this gorgeous woman.

Without further ado, Gaeul kisses you ardently. Her tongue doesn’t let your mouth simply rest on hers, as she invades your cavern to display the passion she has been holding. She cups your cheeks so that she can taste you more thoroughly. You moan at such a confident act right into her mouth, before you let your tongue wrestle with hers.

As the kiss deepens, Gaeul draws her hand down your neck, and you shudder in response. “Fuck, noona,” you utter through the connected lips. Your hands cup her face, letting her take control. And without initiation from you, her fingers sliding down your abdomen seem to invite you to engage with her under the same depravity. Yet, your hands linger on her facial features.

Soon, Gaeul’s hand works its way to your crotch, stroking your erect length through the pants. “Wow, all excited for me, huh?” she says, suppressed under the kiss, and you moan through the gaps, having your shaft fondled.

Gaeul breaks off from the torrid act, but her lips leave just a little distance from yours. However, it’s far enough to keep you wanting her more. She lifts her arms to wrap around your neck. “I want to ask you something.” She says in a whisper while looking into your eyes; her deep voice shakes you.

“Go ahead.”

Gaeul clicks her tongue a few times, glancing at the wall before asking. 

“Are you comfortable calling me noona again? I know I told you back in the bar to drop it, but seeing you being all obedient because of me is a bit of a…” She bites her lip as if to resist the inevitable. “…turn on.” She grins, unsure, not even believing the words coming out of her mouth.

You chuckle before answering without another hesitation. “Sure, Gaeul noona.”

Gaeul smiles. “Alright, baby boy.” She slides her hands down to work on your top button. “Let’s go to our main course.”

You quickly unbutton your shirt upward to meet her trembling hands. And quickly, your shirt is up for Gaeul to toss it away into the void. She runs her right hand down your chest. “You take care of yourself well, don’t you?” As her fingers tap on your flat stomach, hitching your breath.

“C—Cardio from time to time, noona.” You stutter out; fuck, this woman is burning your skin.

“Good for you.” She says in a deep tone, while her right hand is still feeling your midriff.

“Now, leaving you like this wouldn’t be… fair, right? Bare for me to—” The next word cut short for her to plant her lips on your nipple, tasting your body and eliciting a moan from you.

“Noona…” You are now lost in the pleasure; jolts after jolts from her lips rush through your body, making you shudder. Her saliva coats your nipple, and you lock your hand behind your noona’s head to keep yourself from falling over.

Gaeul keeps switching her suction on your peaks before she pushes you onto her bed. “I was talking about fairness, right?” She says with her fingers tilting your head down on your chin a little to meet her eyes. Her legs are straddling yours, keeping you in place.

“Y—Yes, noona,” you speak out.

“So, since you are half naked… under me.” She traces a line down your abdomen, igniting a fire in its wake. “You get to choose which half of me… that you want to see.”

You gulp, eyes wide. Fuck, this woman is really having her way with you now, and there’s nothing you can do to resist her seductive endeavor. Your mind goes into overdrive with the choices: top or bottom, top or bottom, top or—

“Every second counts, my baby boy.” Gaeul taps her bare wrist, grinning.

You swallow another gulp. “Your pick, n—noona.”

Gaeul giggles. “Well, since I’m a believer in justice…” She moves her hands to the top button of her black cardigan, ready to unlock it. “Say please, baby,” she says with her sultry voice.

“Please, noona.” You succumb to her domination. As Gaeul unlocks the first button, putting her soft cleavage into view.

“Please what, baby boy?” She continues her seduction; her hands are toying with the second button now. She pulls the neckline down to reveal the strings of her bra and the full view of the valley between her mounds.

“Please take your top off, noona,” you plead.

Giggling, “Alright, baby boy.” Gaeul quickly unbuttons the remaining locks, as her unending tease also seems to affect herself. Her toned midriff quickly reveals itself to you, decorated by the sky blue laced bra above, sending you further into a spiral.

Slowly, she strips herself off of her cardigan, your tongue becomes drawn to the thin string that holds two sides of the chest cover together. You can taste the hints of her salty sweat absorbed by the cloth.

“Fuck,” Gaeul whimpers. “S—So needy, aren’t you?” She tosses the outer garment away before pressing your head onto her. Being pushed even more, you map a straight line up the hollow of her chest with your tongue, causing her to moan out.

“Alright, I—I get it, you’re a—a tits person,” Gaeul cries out, quickly retreating her hands to unclasp the back of her remaining top attire. “This doesn’t mean y—you have p—power over me or anything, though.”

“Yes, noona,” you say through your licks, her bra falls off right between you two. As you pull yourself back to take a break from your appetizer, you are given the heavenly sight of her succulent tits. They are small, but you’ve never been the one to care, anyway. Her nipples are already erect, aroused as she expects the divine rapture from no one but you.

“You like the view, baby boy?” Gaeul chuckles at the sight of you salivating in front of her perky mounds. 

As an answer, you dive in to savor her excited brown nubs. There’s no particular taste to them, yet you’re being commanded by these peaks to satisfy her overflowing lust, making her a writhing mess right before you.

“God, fuck!” Gaeul moans out. You remain fixated on her tits, sucking on them as if your life is hanging on the strings of her cries. And to further stimulate her, you use your hand to caress the freed side of her frame. You roam from her shoulder to the waistline, squeezing her chest with each passing.

Gaeul, again, presses you onto her soft chest, yet she’s unable to let herself being satisfied just on the outside anymore.

“F—Fuck, shall we go to the m—main course, baby boy?” her words come out ragged; she can’t further shackle herself from the peak of intimacy.

You remove yourself from her nubs. “Yes, please, noona.” Gaeul pushes you down onto her bed, signaling you to unzip your pants while she does so. And within a blink, your erect cock and her soaked cunt are just a breath away from each other. She seems to be an all-natural girl too, choosing to let her hair grow above the canal, and that just makes her even more mouthwatering.

Still, the sex education lessons hold you back on the ground. “Do you need protection?” you ask, concerned about the prospect of unwanted consequences.

“I have my contingency plans, baby,” she huffs with a smile as she hovers her sex just above your shaft now, ready for the ride of her life.

With no words, you nod, and she slowly sinks herself onto your rod. You cry out as your tip gradually disappears into her. You pull your head back under the overwhelming sensations. “Fuck,” and you can do nothing but whimper.

“D—Do I feel good on top of you?” Gaeul asks, voice and her body shuddering in the descent. You are halfway inside her now. Her hands are roaming on your writhing frame, determined to push you off the edge even faster.

“Yes, fuck, noona. You feel so fucking good.” You’re enamored by the throes of pleasure surrounding your body. She slowly impales herself down to the hilt, fully coating your cock with her nectar.

“Fuck!” Gaeul’s tone becomes a scream now. She bends herself back, showing her fragile frame. Traces of ribs are visible under the room light, and her immaculate chest stretches for you to view.

Gaeul remains in the position for a while, before she drags her wet cunt off of you, just barely seeing your tip, grazing your dick with such an unbearable pleasure. Your length now glistens with her honey, but the shackling gratification lets you register only her up and down motion. And as she slams down, you can do nothing but moan under such divine elation.

Wet squelches and moans echo throughout the room, as Gaeul picks up her pace to quicken this perversion. She cries out in every movement, and you echo out every moan. Her short hair becomes really helpful in situations like this, since, with each bounce, they don’t seem to cover her face as much as it should. And you’re one lucky man to see her all invested in the depravity - every contorted face, every line drawn on your abdomen with her hands, and God, how her moan is a symphony you’ll remember for the rest of your life.

Inevitably, with each of her bounce, it drives you toward the precipice. Her angelic moans and the bouncing chest ramp you up closer to paradise. The sight of her riding you - mouth agape, perky tits bouncing, hands shuffling her strands to make sense of the pleasure, creating such an immaculate image - with the sensations around your cock is just unyielding.

“N—Noona, I’m gonna cum, slow down,” you plead, and Gaeul looks down at you, hands still locked in her olive hair. Her breaths become ragged, and her whimpers seem to scale up with each insertion.

“Me too, baby boy, me too,” Gaeul cries out. “Cum with me.” 

She keeps the moderate tempo she has been putting on you. Her bare, untrimmed, drenched cunt rams your cock with steady speed to keep your orgasms alight. Sounds of fleshes crashing into each other; an unyielding amount of Gaeul’s honey is mixing with the notes that come out of her gorgeous lips, creating a concoction that sends you into ecstasy.

And with one last thrust, along with you, Gaeul becomes a squirming wreck. With eyes fluttering, delectable chest heaving, wailing such a symphony that only a deity can sing. Her entire frame shakes with exaltation. You cry from the depths of your lungs, and the knot in your stomach becomes undone. Your cock shoots spurts of cum inside her, as Gaeul’s delicate cunt gushes out torrents of clear juice onto your crotch.

With each twitch of your length, they serve the purpose of unloading into her womb to the brim, and they shake you to sing out such a beautiful melody, joining Gaeul into composing an amorous masterpiece. Your nectar finds its way out to concoct with hers, pooling on your crotch. It’s a breathtaking sight, seeing her undone like this - juice spilled, wails unrestrained, walls contracting to drain you dry.

Gaeul’s climax subsides; her moans show signs of her normal voice again. “G–Good job, baby boy,” she chuckles through her whimpers. Her pace decreases, and you’re thankful that she doesn’t ride your consciousness out.

“You’re getting sensitive, right?” She brings her motion to a stop, but still enveloping your length within her needy core. It’s warm; she’s warm.

“Yeah, noona. You can–,” you stop halfway for a few breathers. “You can stay like this, to be honest.”

“Oh, my poor baby boy~,” Gaeul laughs. “We can stay like this if you really want it.” Her voice still carries hints of intoxication, yet you can’t deny that the potential of it being genuine affection entices you. “I’ll have to go to the bathroom first, though. I can’t sleep with our cum being everywhere like this.”

She bends down to give you a peck on your forehead, before slowly, agonizingly, pulling herself off of you. And doesn’t that make you whimper out, as your cock is still sensitive from shooting spurts of your seed inside her dainty cunt? The feeling of unloading still lingers in your filthy mind.

Maybe it’s a mix of all the sensations you’ve ever felt - mostly pleasure with pain. You moan out as she chuckles at the sight of you crumbling under her final touch. “Alright, baby boy, wanna take a shower?” Gaeul gets up from the bed before sauntering towards the bathroom. “Maybe we can have another round~,” she winks across her shoulder, before going into the shower.

“I’ll be there, noona,” you reply, as you collect your inhibition enough to take another shot of intimacy with her under the running water.

—

Sunlight peeks through the curtains, waking you up after the rough night, naked. Last night’s debauchery remains clear in your head, as the images of Gaeul commanding you around are still in high definition. You look around the room to catch your noona examining the contents of her fridge, bending over to show you her bare, plump ass, only slightly covered by her baby blue shirt.

“Up already, sleepyhead?” She notices you through the gap between her arm and the single garment on her. “I have some banana cake left, not expired yet,” she says before picking it up and surveys the package. “Yeah, a day left. You want one?”

“How much is it? Can you send me your QR code after this, noona?” The memory of you acting all-obedient shows up again, and you can only cover your mouth after that. 

“No need, ‘baby boy’,” Gaeul chuckles, pulling up an air quote, mocking the tone she used last night. “Consider this as part of the one-night plan.”

God, she looks flawless under this morning’s light. The way her short hair is messy; the tired eyes, and that pair of legs - the pair you wish to be caught between - makes you want to spend another day with her. 

“Can I extend my subscription?” you utter out involuntarily. The alcohol hasn’t returned your reticence yet, perhaps.

Gaeul considers your proposal for a while, nibbling her chin with her free hand, while tapping her feet with the cake still in the other hand. 

“Well, I’m not sure, really,” she says. “I have only known you for barely half a day, with the help of alcohol.”

“I know, Gaeul,” you groan. “But like, I want to know you more.”

“I don’t know.” She chuckles as she closes the distance between you two. 

Gaeul continues her interrogation, “do you, really?” Her bare, untrimmed pussy comes in at your face level. She changes her motion to crossing her legs forward, slowly, covering the lower part of her sex as she gets right in front of your eyes.

You drool at the sight, tranced, as your morning wood is twitching. Your tongue involuntarily sticks out, aimed at her nub, and you are magnetized to her cunt again. You are so ready to please your noona again, making her a drenched disarray before you, before Gaeul breaks your train of desire, grabbing your chin and tilting your head up to watch her smile.

“Alright, I believe you now.” She simpers with your tongue still out. “I’ll give you my Instagram before you leave.”

You sign an okay to her, as you retreat your tongue back into your mouth.

“Good boy,” Gaeul laughs. “Here, your breakfast.”

You take the banana cake from her. “Thanks, noona.”

“I’ll give you more than this the next time, if you can make me fancy you.” She lets go of you before climbing onto her bed to the other side, giving you a view of her luscious cheeks once more. She bends down to pick up your discarded, now-creased clothes, involuntarily (or not) putting her sex into display, and you can do nothing but let your length twitch at the sight.

You gulp at the sight, mustering the courage to ask out, “Really?”

She sits back up after her teasing act, legs crossed, but you can still see flashes of her. Gaeul ponders for a while, tapping her chin in the same veins she did before the explicit scene of you two.

“Definitely, maybe.” She laughs again, shooting the garments at you, and you can only join along with her.

—

As you walk back to your dorm, your phone suddenly rings. You pick up the phone, eyes widen. It’s Sungho, the ‘friend’ you left with no trace for him last night.

“Shit.” You utter before accepting the call.

“Where the fuck have you been last night, bro?” His breath is coming in shorts. “We were worried about you. We came back around ten—”

“I was with a woman; her room is just across the bar. I’m fine, Sungho,” you reply.

“Oh.” Sungho pauses. “Oh damn. Wow.” He’s left speechless for a few seconds.

“Yeah, and we—, uh—” You stop, contemplating on whether to tell him.

“No need, bro.” You can hear Sungho chuckling through your phone. “Who’s the lucky woman who takes your virginity, huh?”

“Architecture,” you play coy, withholding Gaeul’s identity. “And we trade each other’s contact just this morning.”

“Goddamn, you had been inside her, and you just asked for her contact after that? Fucking hell, man.” Sungho laughs again. “Well, we’re happy that you didn’t lose an arm or anything, bro.”

You smile before remembering about your sick friend. “Oh, what about Leehan? How’s he now?”

“Fine, he’s still sleeping on my bed,” Sungho affirms. 

You smile, and reply, “Alright, good, thanks for calling.”

“No problem, see ya!” Sungho says.

“See ya.” And you hang up the phone.

On the way back, the prospect of building your relationship with Gaeul reels in your mind. The probability of you two working remains shaky. Emotions might take hold of only one of you, dragging its victim into an unbearable sorrow. What if a crush turns into a craving? Either way, the shared moment of your bodies clashing into each other is going to be etched into you, and, hopefully, her.

And as you unlock the door, a notification pops up on your phone, and it reads as:

actualgaeul started following you.

—

[spidehpig]

my fever induced thoughts about bird is horny & ovulating x mean bastard ghost

mostly just rambling, didn’t check for coherency or grammar. i’ve been plagued by these thoughts and just had to get them out sorry.

ghost x reader

mean bastard ghost with a bird who’s been so needy and clingy all day long. he’s not really sure what’s got her panting and gagging for his cock like a whore, must be a cycle thing. either way he doesn’t mind, in fact he finds it amusing. he’s so used to just indulging himself, parting her thighs with his meaty hands and swiping his tongue along her folds as her little squeals and protests fall on deaf ears.

it’s not everyday that he’s the one to wake up to her trying to take what she needs from him. her pretty moans shaking away the last tendrils of sleep from him as the wet cotton of her panties rut against his thigh and her other hand gropes at his cock straining against his boxers. he has half a mind to push the greedy brat onto her belly and just mount her right there. but this unashamed desperation radiating from his bird is a rarity he’ll indulge in.

he feels a little sick satisfaction when her sweet moans break off into a frustrated little cries as his fist clamps around her waist, halting the desperate little grind of her hips. ignores her begging and pleading as he slips from the sheets. leaves her aching and wanting as she trails into the shower after him with a cute little pout.

keeps his face stoic as he pinches and flicks at her swollen nipples, his other hand pawing at her ass. working her up into a frenzy again, makes sure she can feel his heavy cock throb against her thigh as he cups her dripping cunt. thick fingers bullying their way between her lips under the guise of washing her clean. likes the way she shivers and bucks against him when his knuckle brushes across her clit. he quickly twists the rusty shower handle when she reaches for his cock again and huffs out a raspy laugh when she squawks at him as the shower water turns to ice. doesn’t look back as he steps out and tosses a towel at her.

maybe he shouldn’t punish his little bird’s confidence and needy demands. it’s not every day he wakes up to her wet and willing, so eager to milk his cock. but he has the time and patience today. maybe it’s boredom from such a long leave or maybe he’s just a bastard he thinks as he pulls her onto his lap later as he watches the game. fingers sneaking under the fabric of her tank top to pinch and twist at her nipples until she’s squirming in his lap searching for the friction of his hard cock. waits until she’s panting and whining again before pushing her off his lap a grunting at her to go fix dinner. gives his cock a couple of lazy tugs as she shoots him a dirty look and stumbles into the kitchen on unsteady legs.

later ducks his head under the kitchen doorframe to corner her against the counter to paw and grope at her pretty hips, feels the soft skin of her inner thighs are still slick. pulls back the second she sighs and arches back against him. he ignores the way she glares at him across the table as he shovels the dinner she made him into his mouth. and just to be a prick, finishes his game after dinner while she angrily slams the dirty dishes around in the kitchen.

waits until she’s finished until he prowls off into the bedroom and lights a cigarette as he settles against the pillows. sprawled out across the center of the bed, he finally shoves the waistband of his sweats under his balls to let his heavy cock spring free. precum already leaking onto his thigh as he barks at his bird to come take care of this.

can’t help but smirk as she hesitates in the doorway. unsure if this is just another one of his cruel tricks after he had spent all day teasing her. fists his cock and tells her to come take what she needs. almost barks out a laugh as her eyes widen and she quickly wiggles out of her panties and scrambles up onto the bed. licks his lips when he gets a glimpse of her already glistening cunt as she crawls up over his hulking body. has half a mind to stub his smoke out and sit her over his hungry mouth. instead he takes another drag as her thighs stretch wide on either side of his thick waist to hump her slick cunt along the underside of his cock.

he makes no move to touch her as she ruts and humps against his cock, the bed already creaking with her frantic movements. only pausing to grit his teeth as the tip of his cock catches on her warm hole as she rocks backwards again. lights up another smoke as she leans back onto her haunches to bury two fingers into her cunt when it becomes apparent he won’t be doing anything to help satiate her needs. pupils blown as he watches her sloppy cunt swallow her little fingers. not at all enough to prep her for his cock.

she doesn’t seem to care as she lurches forward and her nails dig into the fat of his chest as she rises up onto her knees, reaching back as she pathetically tries to line his leaking cock up with her cunt. her little grunts of frustration are music to his ears as she struggles to catch the tip on her hole again. movements faltering and sputtering a little when he blows smoke in her face. sweat glistening along her brow when she glares at him and finally manages to sink down a few inches.

his eyes roll back with how tight she is, half expects her to stop and beg him to finger her open. instead she grunts in pain and tries to bounce and wiggle her way down onto his prick. barely any leverage with the way she’s already risen so far up onto her knees just to straddle his thick waist, the cushioned mattress does nothing to ease her struggle. and fuck, watching her buck and bounce just to bully his fat cock into her greedy cunt is tearing at the remains of his control.

it’s not until her walls finally relax and she sinks down onto his cock with a yowl that he finally acknowledges her. cooing and taunting her for being such a needy slag, drooling over his cock all day long. watches the way a sob wracks through her body as her hands grip at the fat of his stomach trying to get some leverage to push herself up on his cock. barely manages to rise up a few inches before she’s letting out a frustrated sob and instead just grinds back and forth on his lap with his cock buried in her cunt, so pathetic.

she yelps when he slaps her tit and growls at her to ride him proper. sniveling after his cock all day long and she can’t even take it right? he decides he’ll let her whine and mewl and beg him to just take her as she grinds on top him. she can’t even take what she needs. maybe when she finally collapses from exhaustion will he flip her over and breed her pretty cunt. seems like he’s the only one that can give her what she needs after all.

[moonchild9350]

Well That Was Fun

Summary: Felix finally gets a much needed day off and plans to build his new PC alone. What he gets is much better instead...you.

Pairing: idol Felix x fem. reader

Genre: fluff, smut- This is a 18+ fic sooo MDNI

Word count: 4081

Warnings: cursing, oral sex male and female receiving, soft dom Felix, dirty talk, p in v penetration, creampie (wrap it up folks). I think thats it...

Note: Felix has been plaguing my mind recently lol. I had to write something about mr. sunshine! I hope you enjoy. Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. Let me know what you think!

This is in no way how Felix is in reality. This is solely for fun.

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

Tomorrow is Felix’s day off.  He had been busier than usual lately due to extra photoshoots and events that he had to attend on top of his usual company activities.  But the company finally allowed him a day off and you were ecstatic.  You had requested that day off right away when he told you after coming home late one day, hoping to spend some time with your boyfriend, not sure yet what you guys will do, but that could wait for a little.  However, you didn’t tell him that you were approved to be off that day wanting to surprise him.  

Felix was happy to finally have a day off.  He had been feeling really run down and tired and just needed a day of rest, being home, wearing comfortable clothes, not having to worry about schedules and calls, and of course being able to finally spend some time with you.  He was also excited because he would be able to finally build his new PC that he ordered a while back and never got to build due to work.  Felix had a full day today, with last minute run-throughs of their routines for an upcoming award show.  The boys were taking a much needed 30 minute break.  

Felix walked over to Jeongin who was sitting on the couch with his legs propped up on Seungmin.  “Guess what?” he asked Jeongin.  “Since I have tomorrow off, I’m finally going to be able to build my new PC.” 

Jeongin’s face lit up.  “Really? Finally! That box has been sitting in the common room for ages.! I can’t wait until you finish it.  You’ll have to let me play a session on it when it’s finished.”

Felix nodded and agreed to the maknae’s demands.  Jeongin then asked, “Since you have the day off, will y/n be over?”

Felix considered this and replied, “I don’t think so.  I believe she told me she had to work.  She’s going to come over after work though.”  Felix did tell you about his day off.  He was a little sad you wouldn’t be able to spend the whole day with him, but he understood.  You did have bills to pay after all, even though he has offered to help. 

Jeongin nodded.  “Aww that sucks hyung.  I’m sure she wishes she could be there all day, but at least she’ll be over later.”

“True” Felix replied.  Their conversation then came to a halt as the dance instructor walked back into the room, signaling break time was over and it was time to resume practice.

*************************************************************

The next morning, you awoke bright and early, excited to surprise your boyfriend.  You planned on bringing him his favorite tea and a pastry for a little breakfast in bed.  You got up and went to shower.  After you pulled on some leggings, a t- shirt, and your favorite sweatshirt, put on some light makeup, grabbed your bag and you were out the door.  Stopping at the cafe, you got an iced americano and a bagel for yourself and an iced matcha tea latte and chocolate croissant for Felix.  Sipping your iced americano, you made your way towards the boys dorm.  Once you arrived, you knocked on the door and Minho answered.

“Morning y/n, I’m surprised you’re here so early.  Felix told us he thought you weren’t going to be here until after your shift.”  Minho greeted you at the door, with a toothbrush in his hand.  It seemed like he was getting ready to go to the building.  

“Morning and I got the day off! I thought I would surprise Felix.  Seems like it worked,” you chuckled.  “I brought some breakfast for him too,” you responded excitedly, bouncing on your toes.  Minho giggled at your excitement and moved to let you in.  

“I think he’s still asleep, but you know your way around so I’ll leave you to it.  I have to finish getting ready anyway.” 

You giggled back and said, “Ok! Thanks Minho.  Have a great day at practice,” and made your way to Felix’s room.  

You quietly opened his door and found him sprawled out in his bed buried under the covers.  He was snoring quietly and snuggling his penguin squishy.  You couldn’t help but smile at the peaceful look on his face, happy that he could finally rest.  You tiptoed over to his bed to put the iced matcha tea latte and chocolate croissant on the bedside table.  Carefully you crawled under the covers and wrapped your arms around Felix’s waist.  For a moment, you looked at his sleeping face.  You lightly brushed your fingers over his freckles which you loved.  Felix grumbled slightly at this and peeked his eyes open.  When he realized who it was, he dropped the penguin squishy and wrapped his arms around you to snuggle you into your body.  

“Baby?” Felix mumbled, deep voice heavy with sleep.  He pulled you even closer and dropped his head into your neck.  He placed a wet kiss behind your ear.  You smiled and ran your fingers through his long blond hair and kissed his nose.  

“Good morning baby,” you replied.  You then proceeded to place kisses all over his face, making sure to place extra kisses over his freckles.  Felix laughed and scrunched up his face at your actions. 

“I have a surprise for you Lixie!” 

“What is it babe?” asked Felix.  He loved your little surprises as you would get really excited and you would get this glimmer in your eyes.  Sometimes, like today, he knew what the surprise was but he played along since you were so happy.

“I brought you breakfast, an iced matcha tea latte and a chocolate croissant, your favorite!” 

Felix’s eyes fully opened at your statement, “Really? Ugh you’re the best girlfriend.”  

You both sat up and you grabbed his food and drink and handed it to him.  Felix graciously accepted the food and drink and started eating right away.  “This is amazing, thank you so much baby.” 

“You’re welcome,” you giggled and brushed some crumbs off his face.  After finishing his food, he pulled you in close and wrapped his arm around your waist.  You laid your head on his shoulder and asked what he wanted to do today.  

“I was thinking how about we stay in today?  My new PC came in weeks ago and so I was thinking about building it.  Would you like to help me build it?”

“Of course Lixie!” You would accept any of his ideas as long as you were together.  Felix squeezed your hip, gave you a peck on your head, and got up to go get ready for the day.  You lounged in his bed, snuggling under the warm covers.  You were scrolling on your phone when Felix came out of the bathroom.  

“Ready?” he asked as he pulled the boxes out of his closet. He was able to drag them in his room last night with the help of Minho hyung.

 “Let’s do this!” you said.  

You both sat on the floor as there was more space and started opening boxes, pulling out parts for the computer.  Felix played some Lofi on his speakers.  You both worked diligently.  You updated Felix on the drama that has been happening at work.  One of your coworker’s boyfriend came to work during her shift, begging for her to take him back.  You explained how your coworker denied her exe’s advances and eventually started yelling at the ex.  Afterwards, once the ex boyfriend left, with the help of the manager, she told you he was dick and a cheater and wouldn’t be caught dead with him again.  Felix listened intently and hummed as you talked, agreeing in the end with your coworker’s decision.  Felix updated you about his work and how they were preparing for an award show they would be attending at the end of the month.  

“We’re going to Japan for the show.  It’ll be fun and I’m happy we’re getting an award and getting to perform, but I'll miss you since I’ll be gone for a long time.” 

“Aww baby,” you replied, “I’ll miss you too! We’ll video message every day, don’t worry.”  

Felix hummed in agreement.  He looked at his phone to check the time and realized it was already late in the afternoon.

“Are you getting hungry?” Felix asked.

“Yeah, a little,” you responded.  “Can we get takeout?” 

“Of course, order whatever you want on my phone.  We’ll have it delivered.”

You picked up Felix’s phone, opened the delivery app, and selected a few items.  You both decided on fried chicken and tteokbokki.  As you waited on the food, you and Felix continued to work on the PC.  At this point, it was a little more than halfway done.  Felix was getting excited the closer he was to finishing the PC.  You chuckled at this, he looked so happy, and that made you happy.  

Once the food arrived, you grabbed plates and a few drinks from the refrigerator and walked back to Felix’s room.  You plated the food while Felix was picking out a show for you to watch while you ate.  There was comfortable silence as you ate, enjoying each other’s company and the food.  Once both of you were finished, you cleared the dishes.  When you came back, you sat back down on the floor with Felix to help him finish the PC.  

It didn’t take too much longer to finish the build and once you were done, you both sat back to admire your work.  “It looks great,” you said.

“It does huh? Good work team.” At that Felix turned and lifted his hand up for a high five.  You giggled at his cheesiness and gave him a high five back.  Felix smiled and then took his hand to grasp your face.  He looked into your eyes.  You could feel the love and gratitude radiating from him. 

“How did I get so lucky?” He whispered in his deep voice.  You saw his eyes flick down to your lips.  You couldn’t help yourself and caught yourself looking at his lips also.  Felix learned forward slowly to catch his lips on yours.  His soft lips touched yours and you sighed into the kiss, moving to sit in his lap and wrap your arms around his neck.  At this, Felix placed his hands on your waist to rub gentle circles on your skin. You sat there for a little, gently kissing Felix.  Moments passed and the kiss became urgent as you felt Felix swipe his tongue along your bottom lip seeking entrance. You granted him entrance with a moan.  With each passing second, the kiss got deeper.  You leaned back slightly to catch your breath, a trail of spit connecting you still to Felix’s lips.  You moved to straddle his hips and leaned your head against his and took a shaky breath.  

You leaned in once more to connect your lips with Felix’s. “Y/n,” Felix murmured against your lips.  You felt turned on with your little makeout session and felt your arousal leaking into your panties.  At this you squeezed your thighs together slightly to get a little friction.  Felix noticed this in between kisses and took a tighter hold on your hips and rolled them against his growing bulge.  You moaned with the movement as his covered cock caught your clit just right through your leggings.  

“Do that again Lixie,” you whispered on his lips.   You built up a rhythm, rocking your hips over Felix’s dick, gaining that sweet friction you needed on your clit.   Felix’s hands stayed on your waist, helping your movements.  With each rock, he groaned into your mouth, “It feels so good baby.”  Between your lips on his and your frantic movements over his clothed dick, he was getting closer to his release.

“Keep rocking baby,” he whispered on your lips.  “You can do it baby, you’re so close, I can tell.”

You whimpered at his words and sped up your movements.  Between the friction over your clit and Felix whispering praise in your ear, you felt yourself get closer to that sweet release you needed.  The pressure was quickly building up in your belly.

“Yes darling, yes. Be a good girl and cum for me.  Can you do that baby? Go on, let go, I’m right here.”  Those last few words were what you needed to cum.  

You whimpered Felix’s name over and over as your first orgasm of the night spread throughout your body, making your toes curl. You could feel your arousal seeping out in pooling in your panties, some getting on your thighs as you gave a last few thrusts of your hips along Felix’s clothed cock.   

Felix rubbed your back whispering “well done my love.” 

Your head fell down in the crook of Felix’s neck, breathing heavy as you came down from your high.  Felix kissed the top of your head and whispered how much he loved you over and over.  

Once you recovered, you looked into Felix’s eyes and reached down to rub his cock through his sweatpants. Felix groaned out as you continued to rub his bulge.  You reached into his sweatpants to pull his cock out.  It was on the longer side, not as girthy, but still the most beautiful cock you’ve ever seen.  His tip was red and angry looking with drops of pre-cum dripping from the slit.  You wrapped your hand around his shaft and gave a few gentle strokes, gathering the pre-cum that was leaking out to give more lubrication.  

“Fu..fuck baby,” Felix moaned out as you quickend your movements. You scooted down and brought your head down to his cock and gave one long lick up his shaft.  You then started suckling the tip,  licking up the pre-cum that was steadily leaking down his shaft.  You suckled the tip for a while, one hand stroking up and down his shaft, the other fondling his heavy balls. 

Felix’s eyes rolled to the back of his head with your movements. 

“Ohhh shit baby, I love your mouth, taking me so well baby.  Keep sucking, that’s it,”

 He slightly jerked his hips up, head kicked back in pleasure.  He looked down at you.  This was his favorite sight to see; you with his cock in your mouth.  His perfect baby, treating him so well. 

Felix started thrusting his hips, fucking your mouth.  With a particular thrust of his hips, his cock reached the back of your throat, causing you to gag.  You loosened your jaw and breathed through your nose to further take him.  

You loved when Felix would use your mouth like this, causing spit to dribble down your chin and tears to leak from your eyes.  You continued to suck his cock and seeing Felix’s legs tense up, you knew he was close.  

Felix couldn’t hold back anymore.  He grabbed your hair and pushed your head down as he came down your throat, loudly moaning your name.  You took it like the good girl you were, swallowing his cum once he was done.  He lifted your head up and wiped at the smudges of tears that were left on your face.  

“You’re absolutely perfect, my perfect girl,” Felix said as he gave you a kiss.  You hummed against his lips at his praise.   

“Let’s get a little more comfortable.  Let me take you to bed baby, ok?” Felix said.

You nodded your head ok and let Felix scoop you up from his lap.  He brought you to his bed and carefully laid you down.  Felix then took off his shirt and tossed it on the floor.  He climbed onto the bed to hover over you, pressing his lips to yours for a heated kiss.  

“Can I take this off of you baby?” Felix asked tugging on your sweatshirt.  You nodded yes and sat up slightly so Felix could pull your sweatshirt over your head.  He tossed the article of clothing onto the floor. You shivered slightly from the sudden exposure, but quickly warmed up as Felix leaned into you again to capture your lips with his. 

Felix took his hand and placed it on your breast, giving it a light squeeze.  You gasped at the sensation, your breasts being really sensitive.  He let go of your lips and placed wet kisses down your jaw, traveling to your neck.  He stopped to suckle and bite your skin where your neck meets your shoulder.  The pleasure you were feeling from Felix had you gasping and moaning as he continued to squeeze and roll your nipple with his fingers.  You then felt him bite down on your neck.  You gasped out at the sensation, feeling both pain and pleasure.  

Felix continued kissing his way down your body, stopping at your breasts.  Taking a nipple into his mouth, he began to suck, rolling the sensitive bud with his tongue.  He took his other hand and pinched your other nipple causing you to arch your back and release a loud moan.

“Lixie, please…Li..Lixie, I need you,” you whimpered as he continued to give attention to your breasts.  

He released your nipple with a pop and looked up at you.  “Where do you need me sweetheart?” 

You looked down at his face, smeared with his spit from sucking on your breast, and whimpered, “I need…I need your tongue Lixie.” 

“My baby needs my tongue,” he said, “Where do you want my tongue baby?”

You covered your face with your hands, not wanting to outright say it.  “No, no sweetheart,” Felix said as he pulled your hands down.  “Let me see your face as you tell me where you want my tongue.”

I…I want your tongue on my pussy Lixie.  Please? I’ve been a good girl,” you whimpered, giving Felix a pout.

Felix considered this and then chuckled saying,  “My baby has been good so I’ll let you have my tongue baby.”  

Felix reached down to remove your leggings and panties.  He then kissed the valley between your breasts, making his way down your body, kissing your tummy, your thighs, everywhere but where you wanted him most.  You squiremed under his touch as he was close to your core.  You could feel his breath as he kissed your thighs .  

Felix looked up at you one last time before licking a long strip from your entrance up to your clit.  You groaned loudly at the sensation, happy to have Felix where you wanted him.  He gave another lick before attaching his mouth to your clit and sucking the bud.  Your hands made their way to grip his blond hair as you began to rock your hips into his face.  Felix grasped your thighs to hold them closer to his face as he continued to lick, nip, and suck at your clit, licking up the arousal that was dribbling out of your pussy.  

All that was heard was your loud moans, and whimpers of Felix’s name and the occasional groan from Felix.  All too soon, you felt that pressure build up yet again, threatening to give way to your second orgasm of the night.  

“I’m, I’m close. I’m go-gonna cum. Oh my god I’m gonna cum. Don’t stop Lix,” you moaned out.  Felix did just that, he dug his face further into your pussy, smothering his face with your arousal.  You frantically rode Felix’s face and without warning, you felt the band in your belly contract as your release gushed out of you onto Felix’s face.  Felix continued his ministrations as you rode out your high, never slowing down.  Once you came down from your high, it became a little too much so you pushed at Felix’s head to get him to stop.  Felix let go of your thighs and lifted his head.  

“Hmmmm you taste so good sweetheart.”  Felix was licking all of your arousal off of lips.  

“Do you want a taste baby?”  You nodded your head and Felix leaned down to kiss you, tasting yourself on his lips. 

When Felix broke away from the kiss, he scooted closer to you to spread your legs wider for him to have better access.  You gripped your legs behind your knees to keep them open.

“Are you ready sweetheart?” He dragged his cock through your folds collecting your arousal.  You nodded your head, “Yes Lixie, please give me your cock.  I wanna be full of you.”

Felix grinned saying, “my baby gets what my baby wants.”  He pushed the tip in slowly, and then pulled it back out.  He repeated that motion again and again, fucking you with just the tip.  You felt good, but you needed more.  

“More, more, please give me your cock baby,” you whined.  Felix pushed the tip in once more, pulled out and then slid all the way in to the hilt.  You moaned with the stretch, more than ready to accommodate his cock in your aching pussy. More arousal pooled out of you, dripping down your cunt and down your ass.  Felix pushed in again, this time with more force.  He set a steady motion, his strokes fluid and deep, hitting those spots he knew you loved.  The sound of his balls slapping your ass with each thrust, your wet pussy, and loud moans were the only thing to be heard in the room.  You were drowning in pleasure as his cock filled you up, stretched you out just how you like it.  

Felix could feel you clenching around his cock, he knew you were close.  He pushed your legs further up your chest and threw them up around his shoulders, the new angle reaching deeper to help get you there.  

“Is my baby about to cum hmm? Are you gonna cum on my cock baby?”

You were barely able to make a coherent sentence lost in the bliss of Felix’s cock pounding into you.  Eventually you were able to mumble out ‘yes please.”  Felix grinned at your mumbling.  

“Whose cock is making you feel like this baby? Whose?” he asked.

“Yours, your cock baby, Lix’s cock.  Please let me cum, please, please, please!” You were so close and with Felix pounding deep into you, you knew it would be a matter of time before you would cum.  

“Such a good girl for me, hmm.  Letting me ruin this pussy.” Felix brought his finger down to your clit and rubbed it in circles.  “Will you cum with me sweetheart? Let me fill you up?”

“Yes please fill me up baby, I’m, I’m close.” A few thrusts later, you felt the band in your tummy release one last time.  It spread throughout your body, your vision going white from the pleasure, and legs spasming.  You screamed out Felix’s name, moaning through the aftershocks. 

Felix felt you cunt spasm around his cock. He felt his release building, building, and with a hard, deep thrust, he came, moaning out “yes, yes, yes, my baby, filling you up just like I said.”  Ropes of thick, hot, cum shot out painting the walls of your white.  Felix rocked his hips into yours a few more times before collapsing on top of you.  You cradled his head into your chest, both of you coming down from your highs.  

Felix lifted his head up and gave you a kiss, savoring the taste of you.  “I love you baby.”

“I love you too,” you replied. Stroking his hair with a smile on your face.

Felix then slowly pulled out, both of you hissing from overstimulation.  He watched the mix of your arousal and his cum seep out of your pussy onto the bed sheets.  He had never seen a more pretty sight.  

“Let me get a towel baby, I’ll be right back.”  Felix slipped on his boxers and sweatpants and then made his way to the bathroom where he got a wet towel to wipe you down.  He came back and began wiping you down, softly and gently.  Once he was done, he found an extra shirt of his and gave it to you to put on.  You thanked him for the shirt, put it on, and laid back in bed.  Felix joined you, wrapping you in his arms.  

“Well that was fun.” He said.  You looked up at your boyfriend with an incredulous look.  “Did you really just say that?” You asked, laughing.  He laughed,  squeezed you tighter, and with a wink said, “ Well it was fun.  I’d say it was much more fun than building that PC.”  

You couldn’t agree more. 

[evielmostdefinitely]

i love soft!coriolanus. big bad mean man being so sweet?

something where maybe you're sick? nothing major but something where he gets to dote on you?

watch over me |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: as requested above, you're sick and coriolanus takes care of you.

contains: slightly dark!coriolanus. possessive and manipulative-ish coriolanus and slight paranoia. past mentions of lucy gray. mainly just fluff.

“Is there a reason you decided not to show up to the luncheon today? Left me sitting there like an idiot without you.” Coriolanus was annoyed, beyond annoyed- tone clipped with irritation, stomping through the suite that was just for the two of you. 

He didn’t see you in the living room, not lounging on the couch or even in the sun room. His bristling exasperation grew to raging fear. Sickening, haunting what if’s slammed to the front of his mind, painstaking memories of Lucy Gray’s disappearance. History had repeated itself again, he was sure of it as Coriolanus barked out your name, turning the corner furiously. 

Your tiny squeak of a response came from the ensuite bathroom, muffled by the closed door and high ceilings of your bedroom. Coriolanus bounded towards the bathroom, yanking the door open with a fury, softening once he saw you, crumbled on the bathroom tile. Your head pressed against the clawfoot tub, stuffy nose sniffles that had him cringing. 

“Darling,” Coriolanus watched you carefully. “Are you alright?” 

You lifted your head, eyes red rimmed with irritation. You looked pitiful- Coryo cursed the way it made his heart swell and boast with pure adoration. “I think I might have the plague.” You sounded like your nose was clogged, voice scratchy and soft, looking at him helplessly. 

Coryo grinned, a small huff of a laugh, walking over to you. “The plague?” He repeated, pressing a hand to your forehead- the skin clammy and hot. “You feel feverish.” 

“I am.” You croaked, leaning into his touch. “I had the doctor check on me. I have the flu. I-I meant to call you, but I got really cold and then hot, and-” 

“-That’s alright.” Coriolanus shook his head gently, thumbs massaging your temples in a soft way that had you mewling, head lolling into his touch. “I hate that you’re not feeling well, my love. Did the doctor give you anything?” 

“A shot.” You rasped, eyes closed, body pressing further and further into him. “I think my fever broke. I got really hot so I decided to lay in here. The tile is cool.” 

“I could have brought you ice.” Coryo muttered. “I can have the Avoxes bring you an ice pack for your head.” 

“No, I-I’ll be alright. I feel better now.” You were lying, Coryo knew that, but he didn’t correct you. Not now. Not while you felt so ill. 

“I’m sorry I missed the luncheon.” Your eyes rounded when they met his gaze. 

“None of that. I won’t hear it.” Coriolanus shook his head firmly, the back of his hand pressed to your forehead. Were you too hot? What did too hot feel like? Should he call the doctor back? His own worries mixed with his sinking guilt made him feel uneasy. 

“You need to rest.” Coryo said firmly. 

“I-I’m alright. Just let me bathe, and I can make it to the dinner-” 

“-Don’t be ridiculous.” Coryo scoffed, a hand on your sweat soaked back, pulling you up, holding you firmly to his side as he walked you towards the bed. 

You clung to him, walking stiff from the tightness in your joints, a little dizzy from the medicine and the sudden movements. He loved it, pulling you closer to him. How pliant you were, how easily you obeyed and relied on him. 

“You are to stay in bed until you feel better, do you understand me?” Coriolanus commanded, flipping the covers back, helping you into your side of the bed. 

You fell into your pillows far too easily, no fight left in you, body flooded with fatigue. It was so easy to let Coryo take control of you like this. Let him take care of you, tell you what you should and shouldn’t do- do it for you without asking. You supposed you shuld feel trapped, and maybe at times you did, but at moments like these, your heart filled with nothing but fondness. 

“You tell me if you feel anything, anything even the slightest bit off.” Coryo’s hand pressed to your warm cheek, your eyes glazed with fever. “Are you listening to me?” 

“Yes.” You hummed, eyelids drooping. “I will let you know.” 

“What do you need now?” The bed dipped, Coriolanus taking a seat next to you. “What can I get for you?” 

“I’m just going to rest, Coryo.” You muttered, settling into the soft pillows. 

“I’ll get you a glass of water.” 

“Coryo, I’m fine.” You grinned sleepily, heart bursting with warmth and adoration for him. “I just need to rest.”

Coriolanus allowed it, commanding his protempore to bring him his work, rescheduling the meetings for the day so he could work at the small desk in the corner of the room. Carefully looking over schedules and statements and militia plans, while also watching you. Every snore, hum, sigh, toss and turn, sound coming from you had his attention peeked, ready at any moment to scream for the doctor. His mind raced still, even with you in front of him, possibilites of horrendous outcomes and terrifying scenarios. 

Until you woke up, greeted by a small bowl of soup- one his Grandma’am used to make him and Tigris when they were ill. “I can eat on my own, Coryo.” You shook your head lightly at him, accepting another spoonful of the warm liquid, sighing at how it soothed your aching throat. 

Coriolanus didn’t respond, bringing the spoon to your lips instead. And you let him, of course you let him. When he was so gentle like this, fussed over you this way, gave you his undivided attention. 

Contentment settled over both of you behind the closed doors of your home. This type of softness never to be seen outside of here. Tomorrow, Coriolanus would order three executions in the Capitol, striking even more fear over the Districts and weeding out the rebels. He’d be merciless and cold and cruel out there, but for you- for now, he’d be gentle.

[puckinghischier]

I’m deprived from domestic/soft Nico thoughts. Please help me feed my delusions 💭💭💭

so due to the mountain of snow that’s still plaguing where i live, i have a very specific, basic, and lowkey mundane thought about nico being all soft and lovey

maybe it’s the fact i’ve had to walk up and down my half mile driveway the past week just to get to my car and go to work, but the thought of nico shoveling snow for you is making me warm n fuzzy rn

like, he’s so busy. he’s gone all the time, constantly at the rink, playing in games, at the gym, or doing events for the team. but to think about him getting up before you have to be at work, even after he got home from a roadie well into the early hours of the morning, is making me hyperfixate.

because he knows how cold you get and how much you hate getting out of your warm bed on a normal day, much less when you have to get up earlier to allot time for scraping and defrosting your car. so even if he only crawled into bed with you a couple of hours ago, he’s up and outside before your alarm—which he reset back to your normal time—goes off.

he bundles up and grabs the ‘snow broom’ that stays perched outside for occasions like this, and gets to work. first he shovels a small path to your car, making sure your feet stay warm and dry in the snow boots he bought you last christmas. then he starts brushing off every bit of snow he can off of your car, starting it and letting the inside warm up while he works.

after he gets every flake of snow he can off, he turns your seat warmer on high and heads back inside. he gets to work brewing your coffee—no matter how crazy he thinks you are for drinking it iced in this weather—and making a quick breakfast for you to eat on the run. he’s halfway through achieving the perfect fried egg to go on top of your bagel when he hears your shrieks, feet thumping towards him.

“nico! i’m gonna be late! my alarm didn’t go off on time m! i have to go clean my car off. oh my god i’m soooo gonna get in trouble!”

you come into view, covered in only a t-shirt (nico’s) and otherwise bare legs, stumbling as you try to slip a boot on one foot while balanced on the other.

“you gonna go outside like that, müsli?” he smirks, looking at you over his shoulder, not wanting to mess up his egg masterpiece.

you look down, almost like you’d forgotten you weren’t wearing pants, then back up at him.

“why are you awake?” you suddenly remember his late arrival, rolling over long enough to give him a kiss and snuggle into his warmth before slipping back into oblivion last night.

nico turns the stove off, slipping his perfect egg right on top of the plate on the counter next to him before turning to look at you.

“thought i’d be a nice boyfriend today and clean your car off before you got up. should be nice and warm for you by now,” he beams, loving how frazzled you look in his clothes. the toaster dings, throwing the bagel inside into view, stealing his attention. “oh, and i almost have your breakfast ready. your coffee, too.”

you watch him in awe as he walks over to grab the heated bread out of the toaster, spreading butter on both pieces before laying half of a perfectly cut avocado on one side. he grabs the plate with the most delicious looking fried egg on top of it and slides the egg right off onto the bagel, salt and peppering it before placing the other half of the bagel on top, completing the sandwich.

he turns to you with a smile, amused at the expression of surprise on your face.

“better hurry and go get dressed. don’t want you to be late, now, do we?” he winks, wrapping your breakfast sandwich in aluminum foil to conserve some of its heat.

once the sandwich is securely wrapped and set aside, he walks over to your frozen figure, placing a finger under your chin to tilt your face up to his as he looks down at you.

“i love you, you know that? every day. all the time. forever and ever,” he repeats the phrase you two share anytime he leaves to go out of town, placing a delicate, loving kiss to your lips.

you still haven’t spoken a word, too consumed with him and your shock at how you ended up with someone like him, when he places his hand on your shoulders, turning your body around to face the hallway you just came from. you don’t expect the smack to your ass that comes, jolting you forward slightly, forcing you to take a few steps paired with the small push from nico at the same time.

“go on now, woman. go get dressed. your coffee will be waiting when you get done.”

you turn around to give him a middle finger, but the moony, lovesick smile on your face as you retreat back to your bedroom, the fading sound of nico’s laughter ringing through your ears, reveals how you really feel about the god-send of a man standing in your kitchen.

[illyrianbitch]

An Education in Malice — Part Five

Pairing: Vanserra!Reader x Azriel

Summary: With the sharp tongue of your notorious family, you are Azriel's most tantalizing challenge yet. It only takes one small meeting before you both realize that the line between hate and desire is dangerously thin.

Warnings: lots of bickering, some IC drama, underlying sexual tension, threats, forced proximity trope, brief mentions of abuse, the sickening sense of being vulnerable and being perceived, helion not being a snitch

Word Count: 8.9k

←Part Four | Series Masterlist | Part Six

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Azriel was many things.

It could take him years to list all of the attributes he held— characteristics that spanned between inherently good and inherently bad. Centuries of living had led him to creating so many different versions of himself, some more kind than others, some more wise. But none of them were weak. 

Since the day he’d been freed from that basement, hands charred and shaky, a newfound anger burning in his chest, Azriel spent every minute ensuring he wasn’t weak.

Yet, your voice persisted in his mind. 

You are weak. 

It wasn’t physical strength you were referring to. Which, perhaps, made the statement even worse. Because deep down Azriel was troubled by the fact that you maybe were right. Maybe he was weak. Somehow, someway, you had gotten under his skin— buried yourself somewhere deep and hidden. As much as he tried, he couldn't dig you out, couldn't stop your voice from echoing tirelessly in his mind.

A slave to your anger.

Azriel’s fists slammed into the training dummy. 

To your impulses.

He threw another punch.

to your High Lord.

A biting feeling nagged at his battered knuckles, at the ridged scars that marred them. 

You have always been weak.

Azriel let out a curse as a streak of pain painted his arm. 

This was an unusual form of training for him, the bare hands and hand-to-hand combat. Usually, he practiced with a sword, with his weapons, and it was often sparring with Cassian. But Azriel needed something more today— needed to feel the pain in his own hands, needed something to pull him back into his body, to tie him down from floating away in his thoughts that were plagued by you. 

His wings flared, shadows whipping around him in a frenzied dance as he remembered the look on your face, the fire in your eyes. He replayed it in his mind over and over, focused on the hurt he had sworn he glimpsed there, a flash of vulnerability that you quickly masked with your anger. He couldn't shake the image, couldn't forget the rawness of your voice as you hurled those words at him. He’d begun to think he imagined it, that he’d somehow convinced himself that you’d shown some semblance of care. 

Weak. 

His self control was weak. Maybe this he could admit. He’d been working on it these past two years, working on how to control his temper, on how to be more approachable to those who hadn’t known him for centuries prior. A part of him had done it instinctively around Elain, scared to spook her like a terrified fawn in a forest. And then he began working on it for himself– to prove, in some sense, that he was still capable of being someone perhaps more deserving of a mate. 

It wasn’t going all too successfully, but he was working on it. At least, he was trying to. But with you, Azriel had no control. There were only three emotions he felt with you, only three reactions that his mind registered: fight, flee, or fuck. It had become too difficult to separate them—

Azriel.

The voice echoed in his mind. He skillfully pushed it away. There was an emotion deep in his chest that didn’t belong to that group of three, one that burned hot, tasted vile and sour. He felt it whenever he thought of you. 

He threw another punch. 

Azriel. 

His name was spoken with a tone much deeper this time, much more firm. It shot him back into a prior memory, into one of him staring into angry violet eyes with an icy defiance. Once again, he pushed away the force in his mind. The space that the call had occupied was quickly replaced by you. 

Rhysand’s face was etched into his memory too, a disappointed and angry look of a newly made father. Azriel didn’t want to see it again, didn't want to bother pretending he felt sorry. 

So he struck again. And again.

“Azriel.”

The voice was louder.

This time, it wasn’t just in his mind. It was real, commanding, and filled with an authority that made his shadows tremble for a moment, skittering to hover above his heavy, black boots. 

Azriel paused, chest heaving, and looked up to see Rhysand and Cassian standing at the edge of the training ring. He gave no verbal greeting, opting to straighten his back and tuck his wings into the blades of his back. 

Rhysand raised a brow, an edge of annoyance creeping into his voice. “I’ve been calling for you.”

Azriel only tossed a glance at Cassian before bringing a hand to wipe the sweat off his brow. Rhys sighed, a sound that was clipped in a sense of frustration. “We need to talk.”

Azriel looked at his hands, taking in the bloodied knuckles and the slight tremble in his fingers. His shadows slowly snaked around his forearms and he felt a tug deep within his chest. 

He cringed at the sensation, at the feeling that had grown to something so routine as of late. 

He assumed it was the nagging feeling of unfinished business, that he was restless and unsettled because, in any other case, he would’ve killed you, would’ve done something to keep you contained—but he couldn’t. He wasn’t allowed to. A beast wandering free and he was feral for you. Not that he’d ever admit it. Not even to his shadows. 

“I’m busy,” Azriel finally said, his voice cold and final. 

The tone of it felt so jarring that even Cassian’s eyes widened slightly in shock. From beside him, Rhysand’s jaw twitched. He stepped closer. 

“Well then. Finish what you're doing and meet me back in my office within the hour.”

Something burned beneath Azriel’s skin. “I’m not your dog,” he snapped.

Something shifted in the air and Azriel didn’t need to look over at his brothers to know he was pushing their patience— he could smell it, the offense that radiated off them. It should have made him sick, made him feel guilty if anything, but it didn't.

It was Cassian who replied first, a flaring anger as he stepped forward, wings extending with the movement. “Az,” he said sharply, a warning clear in his tone.

Azriel almost laughed to himself. Your voice rang in his mind again, loud and entirely too overwhelming. If he was a slave to Rhysand, what did that make Cassian? A better brother, maybe. An even better-trained dog, too.

Rhysand’s face flickered with indecision, as if he were struggling between what role he should assume—  that of the High Lord or that of a friend. Anger flashed in his violet eyes before he pushed it back. 

“No, you are not,” Rhysand said, “But you are my family and this court’s Spymaster. And I am calling on you in regard to those two positions you hold.”

A moment of silence passed and the thickness of it prickled at Cassian’s skin. He let out a scoff, focusing his gaze on Azriel as he shifted his weight on his feet. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Azriel glared at him.  “Nothing.”

Rhysand sighed. “Fine. You don’t want to leave this ring? I can work with that.” He beckoned Cassian to walk with him onto the ring, stepping closer to Azriel. “I’ve set up a meeting with Beron.”

Azriel’s head snapped up. “That is a bad idea.”

Rhysand raised his eyebrows. “You hid a prisoner from me and risked an entire alliance. I’m not asking for your approval.”

Azriel’s shadows wrapped coiled tighter against him. 

“So why are you telling me?” 

“Because you will need to be in attendance,” Rhysand replied. His tone left no room for argument. “And I expect you to be in control. Whatever issues you have with Y/N, you will not be repeating them again.”

Azriel cringed inwardly. His brother didn’t know the full extent of what had transpired. He only knew the story that Azriel had spun– one of you threatening to end the alliance if he didn’t help you with Renard, how he had claimed he couldn’t stand being around you anymore and ended it on his own terms. The beautifully and carefully constructed lie Azriel had fed him so easily that it concerned him. 

Cassian watched the tense exchange with a furrowed brow. It only took a few seconds before his restraint broke, and he let out a small growl in warning. “Cauldron, Az, are you itching for a fight?” he said, “I would’ve expected you to be ecstatic now that you're not forced to spend time with that pretentious bitch of a—”

“Shut the hell up,” Azriel snapped, his head whipping up to glare at Cassian. The force of his words made Cassian step back, the frown deepening on his face. His jaw tightened as he took a step forward, as if to ready himself to strike.

Azriel quickly checked himself and took a deep breath. “This has nothing to do with her,” he said, his voice strained but measured— controlled. “Of course I’m glad to be free of that gods-forsaken arrangement.” He sent a glance Rhysand’s way, a flicker of defiance in his eyes. “It never should have been made.”

Cassian opened his mouth, his protest painted clear in his expression, but Rhysand clapped a hand on his shoulder, silencing him before he spoke. “Cass, I need a moment with Az.”

Cassian looked offended, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to form words. “What—but—”

“Go,” Rhysand said firmly. Once again, his tone held no room for argument. Unlike Az, Cassian complied, but not without a head shake and a scoff.

Cassian grumbled under his breath, casting one last burning glance at Azriel before leaving the training ring. Az made a mental note that he’d have to fix that later, whatever small crack he’d just created between them. He wasn't too worried about it, but he needed to do it before the wound festered.

Once they were alone, Rhysand’s eyes bore into Azriel’s in a scrutinizing gaze. It was heavy, curious, and frustrated at the same time. It felt heavier than usual. “What is this really about?”

Azriel stared at him, shadows swirling around his hands. He shook his head. “Nothing.”

Rhysand’s expression hardened. “Azriel. You have already kept too much from me. I have been graceful.”

A muscle tensed in the shadowsinger's jaw.

“And if I don’t say anything? What will you do then? Command me to be honest?” Azriel’s voice was sharp. While there was a clear challenge in his tone, Rhysand recognized something else in it, something that reeked of insecurity, of a male unsettled.

Rhys narrowed his eyes and his power crackled beneath his skin. “Careful.”

They stood locked in a silent standoff, both rigid in posture and face tightened in a stare. Azriel’s mind raced as he weighed his options, desperately searching for the best route to end the conversation. He settled on a half truth.

“Eris can be predictable. But Y/N is not. And now we have no read on her.”

Rhysand narrowed his eyes. “And whose fault is that?”

Azriel snarled, but Rhysand let out a small sigh that cut through the sound. “Let me worry about that alliance. Get yourself together.”

And then he began to walk away, a picture-perfect image of calm and control.

“When is the meeting with Beron?” Azriel called after him.

Rhysand stopped and shrugged, a faint, almost dismissive gesture. “Maybe in two days. Or two weeks. We will see. Either way—my sentiment still stands.”

Azriel knew Rhysand was right; he needed to get himself together. But the disaster within him, the tangled mess of emotions and unresolved conflict, was driving him more mad that usual. Your face, your words, haunted him still, and he wondered if he would ever find a way to fix the mess you had left in your wake.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

You made your way around the library, navigating through the rows of meticulously organized shelves, each one filled with hundreds of beautifully bound books. The scent of aged parchment and faint traces of magic hung in the air and you were almost tempted to linger and explore.

You'd always craved a day in the Day Court's libraries, a time to read and run your fingers along a variety of books. It was just as beautiful as you'd imagined, and you told yourself you'd return another day and appreciate it properly.

But right now, your focus was on a different kind of discovery. Skillfully avoiding the watchful eyes of Helion’s skilled librarians and guards—each dressed casually yet elegantly, exuding an air of quiet power—you moved with purpose.

It only took you a few more minutes before you found the heavy door concealed within a niche, its ancient wood imposing against the backdrop of polished stone. With a mixture of excitement and caution, you pushed it open, revealing a dimly lit chamber tucked away from prying eyes. There were countless shelves laden with dusty volumes lining the walls of the chamber. Small tables and ornate couches were spread throughout the room with faint, glittering faelights that accompanied them.

You could only imagine the type of people Helion had housed here, the conversations that must have unfolded amidst the quiet elegance that the space seemed to hold. 

A smile tugged at your lips as you stepped inside. 

And then you stilled as a prickling sensation bit at the nape of your neck.

You whirled around, seizing Azriel’s arm and slamming him against the wall. Surprise flitted across his face, replaced swiftly by a calculating gaze as he reversed your maneuver with effortless grace, pinning you back against the cool stone instead. 

Before you could offer him a few choice words, a faint shimmer of light danced through the air. The large door through which you had entered shut with a heavy thud, the surface of it shimmering faintly, as if an invisible force sealed it shut.

"No, no, no," you muttered under your breath, pushing Azriel off with enough force to make him stumble. His eyes darted across the room as you pressed your palms against the door, trying to push it open again, but it remained resolutely closed. The air around you crackled with suppressed magic. 

"What the hell was that?" he demanded, his voice tinged with urgency.

"It's a containment spell,” you bit out, “We're trapped.”

Some time passed in tense silence as Azriel moved methodically around the room. Your gaze followed his every move, your jaw set in a tight line as you swallowed down the insults that were itching to be thrown at him.

“Can’t you make them do something useful?” you snapped, nodding towards the black smoke that buzzed around Azriel’s form. “Send them to get help or something?”

Azriel rolled his eyes and his shadows seemed to mimic the movement, circling his arms in a fit of annoyance.  “Thank you for that brilliant idea,” he said, tone dripping with sarcasm. “If you haven’t noticed, princess, they are shadows.”

He gestured to the sunlight flooding through the cracks of the grand door.  “They can’t go out in broad daylight. And from what I’ve observed about this library, there's a lot of that. We’re going to have to wait until sunset.”

Helion’s libraries were bathed in perpetual sunlight, with large, open windows that invited the sun's rays to flood the space. It casted a warm, golden glow over the towering shelves in a way that made the space seem dreamlike, made it seem holy. The sunlight wasn’t just a feature; it was a constant presence— the library was filled with sunlight every hour of the day that the sun was shining.

This particular room, however, was the exception. It was windowless, the only light filtering in through the cracks of the large charmed door. The room was designed to preserve the unique and delicate books within, shielding them from the harsh sunlight that could damage their pages. You had come here specifically for this reason, to find a particular book in this carefully protected area.

“Sunset?” you echoed incredulously. “It’s nine in the fucking morning, Shadowsinger. You’re telling me I have to wait until either Helion finds us or until your little shadow dogs can finally go out and play?”

Azriel raised an eyebrow, his mouth falling into a tight line.  “Well, maybe you should break into libraries at more reasonable hours of the day.”

You resisted the urge to pull a book from one of the many shelves and hurl it his way. “I wasn’t breaking in,” you retorted, crossing your arms. “You made this a break-in when you followed me and set off some strange alarms.”

Azriel’s eyes narrowed and he took a step towards you. “I didn’t follow you, and I certainly didn’t set off any alarms. That was all you.”

“You didn’t follow me?” you scoffed. “Then what were you doing? Brooding from afar in hopes that I’d apologize for hurting your feelings?”

A flicker of irritation crossed his features. His jaw tightened and his eyes flashed with something close to anger. “H-hurting my feelings?” he said, his voice low, “You think you hurt my feelings?”

“Yes,” you replied, lifting your chin. “I think I bruised your ego by shoving the truth down your throat.”

“Oh, please. Don’t flatter yourself, ” he sneered. Azriel turned on his heel and took one step away from you before he was spinning around, lifting an accusatory finger your way. “And I don’t brood. I was surveying the area for threats, which, if I recall correctly, is my job.”

“Yeah, in the Night Court,” you snapped back, “We’re in the Day Court, genius.”

Azriel’s eyes narrowed with irritation. “The Day Court is our ally. That means ensuring their safety—and ours. If you weren’t wandering into places you don’t belong, I wouldn’t need to follow you.”

You let out a bitter laugh, stepping closer to him. “So you admit you were following me?”

Azriel stiffened as if he had barely registered the words he’d spoken. He blinked and then he strengthened himself, speaking to you in a voice that was steady and cold. “You’re a threat that needs to be monitored.”

Something burned in your chest. 

“Is that what you were doing every time you slept with me? Monitoring me?”

The words seemed to hit their intended target. For a moment, there was silence. Azriel’s expression hardened and he held your gaze for a beat too long before looking away.

When you realized he wasn’t going to offer a verbal response, you let out a deep breath.

“I don’t understand why you can’t just leave me alone,” you growled through gritted teeth. “I’ve done nothing besides visit an open court. Helion has no problems with me being here. And now you’ve gone and trapped us because you’re an obsessive, paranoid, freak.”

He looked at you again, his eyes guarded and expression unreadable.

“This is not my fault. This is yours. Forgive me if I didn’t believe that you had innocent intentions.”

You rolled your eyes. “Of course, the all-knowing Spymaster assumes I’m up to something sinister. Maybe I just wanted to read in peace.”

“Then why all the secrecy?” he shot back, “Why the need to sneak into restricted sections?”

You felt a surge of frustration flickering in you like a hot flame. You curled your hands into fists, grounding yourself as your nails bit into your palm. “Like I said, I just wanted to read in peace. You don’t know everything. You don’t know what I’m doing or why. So stop pretending you do.”

Azriel studied you for a long moment. 

“Okay,” He began as he took another step towards you, shadows flickering around him like agitated serpents. “Tell me exactly what you are doing here. What book are you looking to read?”

The shadows around him seemed to pulse. You held his gaze, feeling the weight of his scrutiny bearing down on you. Swallowing against the sudden dryness in your throat, you glowered at him. 

“None of your business,” you said, your voice low, cold, and clipped. “Get off my back.”

“Not until I know you’re not up to something.”

“Paranoid bastard.”

“I have every right to be,” he said, “Especially with you.”

“You’re insufferable,” you shot back, feeling the heat of frustration rising within you — fast and unforgiving. It simmered at the edges of your skin.  “It must be so exhausting living in that tiresome head of yours.”

Azriel didn’t respond immediately, his jaw tightening as he struggled to rein in his temper. “You have a habit of causing trouble. It’s my job to ensure that trouble doesn’t affect my people or our allies.”

“Your people,” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. You pushed away the urge to make a further comment on his choice of words. “If you stopped treating me like an enemy, I wouldn’t feel the need to act like one. Everything that I am is what you have pushed me to be.”

His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you thought he might actually strike you. But instead, he took a deep breath as a shadow of conflict passed over his features. Before the silence between you could stretch any longer, Azriel straightened, his mask of indifference slipping back into place. 

“Why not just tell me what you’re doing?” 

Because you didn’t owe him an explanation. The thought echoed resolutely in your mind. Beneath your defiance, a familiar, almost comforting, surge of resentment bubbled up—why should you justify your every move to him? He was nothing more than an obstacle, an irritating shadow that refused to fade.

So you said nothing, gave no reply. The silence stretched between you and each passing moment seemed to exacerbate his agitation. You observed the cracks in his usual unbothered, stoic facade— the clenching of his strangely battered fists, the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. He deserved to be unsettled, you thought bitterly. His mistrust was a reflection of his own insecurities, his duty an excuse to assert dominance over you. You refused to be cowed, not by him or anyone else.

“Silence. Beautiful,” he scoffed. Azriel turned away and you reveled in the momentary victory, savoring the small triumph of making him fall into a state of unease. 

He began to pace the room, muttering under his breath— you could hear it only slightly, a continuous complaint about everything from the sunlight filtering through the door to the layout of the library. You stared at him, noticing how his shadows mimicked his agitation, swirling around him in a frenzy. His wings twitched with every movement. 

His pacing became more frantic as he moved closer to the door, placing his hand on it as if trying to force it open. “This is ridiculous,” he growled. “We’re trapped here because of your secrecy. If you hadn’t been sneaking around—”

He paused mid-sentence, his movements halting abruptly. As if the weight of your gaze was tangible, he turned to look at you, eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that almost made you twitch.  

“What?” Azriel snapped, a strain seizing his voice. Even his shadows seemed to jump at the sound of it.  “Do you finally have something to say, princess?”

You remained silent, meeting his gaze with a steady calmness that seemed to unsettle him further. After a long moment, you finally spoke, your voice cool and measured. “I just have a question.”

Azriel scowled. “And what would that be?”

You observed him closely, tracing every miniscule movement of his body. A wicked smirk tugged at the corners of your lips.

“What color collar would you like?”  You asked, raising an eyebrow as if to feign impatience. You leaned forward slightly. “You know, to go with all of your bitching and whining? I’m thinking a sapphire blue to coordinate with your gaudy jewelry.”

Your eyes flicked down to his siphons, and as if in response, the siphons glowed angrily. Underneath them, his fists clenched tightly, his whole body seeming to vibrate with anger. If Azriel wasn’t angry before, he was fuming now. The atmosphere crackled with animosity.

“Shut up,” Azriel said through clenched teeth. 

You tilted your head, a defiant glint in your eyes. “Why should I?”

With a sudden surge of aggression, Azriel stomped towards you, his footsteps echoing in the confined space. He came to an abrupt stop just a few paces away, visibly fighting to maintain his composure. His fists clenched at his sides, shadows swirling around him like black smoke as he took a deep breath.

“Until we’re out of this gods-forsaken room,” he said tightly, “Just shut your damned mouth and stay over here. I’ll stay on the other end, out of your way.”

You weighed your options for a moment. You gave him a nonchalant shrug. “Fine. Works for me.”

Azriel shot you a final piercing glare before turning away, his back rigid with tension. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

You weren't sure how long had passed, but it had certainly been longer than an hour. 

The enchantment that bound you and Azriel to this room seemed to turn every minute into an eternity. You were suffocating. 

The weight of time pressed down on you as you scoured the shelves, determined not to let Azriel and this infuriating enchantment thwart your purpose. This restricted area of Helion's grand library was vast, filled with more books on folklore and legends than you had anticipated—and a rather peculiar assortment of erotic 'vampire' poetry that you tried your best to ignore.

Despite your persistence, you had yet to uncover any clue as to the whereabouts of what you sought. Each book you pulled from the shelves yielded nothing but disappointment.

You sighed, turning away from yet another shelf of books when your eyes caught sight of a one that stood out amidst the worn and weathered bindings. It was a slender volume with a vibrant red leather cover, contrasting sharply with the tattered browns around it. Without fully realizing your own actions, you reached out and delicately plucked the book from its place, cradling it in your hands.

The cover felt smooth and cool to the touch, the red leather soft against your fingertips. The title was written in an elegant, swirling golden cursive. It wasn't what you had been searching for—a book of love poems wasn't going to help you find the edge you sought—but something about it called to you nonetheless.

You landed on one particular page. The corners were marked with a dog-eared fold, a simple act that nearly drew a smile to your lips at the thought of Eris’s disdain for such casual treatment of books. He would have scoffed, made some remark about how it marred the delicate pages and diminished their value. 

Before the rift between him and Eris grew too wide, Lucien used to sneak into Eris’s room and borrow his books, delighting in folding the pages to mark his favorite passages. Eris would fume at the sight, scolding Lucien for disrespecting not only his belongings but the value of the books themselves. Lucien basked in the frustration and would laugh so hard— a bright, joyous sound that echoed through the halls until Beron wearied of it. 

Lucien stopped stealing those books soon after. He quickly learned that his place was not in his brother's room— it wasn’t even in his own home. 

You turned your attention back to the poem on the page before you, your heart skipping a beat as you recognized the title. Something as heavy as a stone settled in your stomach. 

Your mother was a lot of things. She was quiet at times, yes, but it was more pensive than it was shy. She was unbelievably brilliant, to a point where it pained you to think about it, to let yourself wonder how different her life could have been had she married someone other than your father. How different her life may have been if she never had any of you.

When you were younger, she fed you her fascination of books. Besides Eris and Lucien, your other brothers never took to it as much. They much preferred sparring in rings and finding ways to appease your father. While they lived off of the praise they received like good soldiers, you lived off of the stories your mother could tell you at night. 

It was during those quiet hours, after Beron had retired to his chambers and the River House grew still, that she would sit by your bedside and brush the hair from your face. She would whisper stories into the darkness, tales of far-off lands and brave heroes, of mythical creatures and forbidden romances. But there was one story she cherished above all others.

It was a short poem from the perspective of two lovers torn apart by war. They loved each other fiercely, but the cruel hands of fate kept them separated in life. So profound was their longing that they struck a bargain with Death himself, pledging their souls to be together for eternity in the afterlife. The poem spoke of their sacrifice, their undying devotion, and the bittersweet beauty of a love that transcended even death.

You loved it almost as much as your mother did. 

Love was real. This you knew. But it wasn’t for people in Autumn. It wasn’t for people who shared your blood. 

Your mother proved it. The way her eyes would glaze over as she recited the poem, the way she’d talk about a love that you knew was never referring to Beron. She longed for someone that wasn't your father, someone she could never be with. And Jesmindas death only solidified the fact that love wasn’t made for Vanserras. 

You still heard her screams at night, still held the image of Lucien’s blood curling sobs. 

Loving someone, as much as you craved it, was selfish. It was a death wish— not only for you, but for them as well.

You read the poem again and a heavy feeling itched itself into your heart— something like a dagger of melancholy, stirring emotions that made you feel small and weak. Your chest tightened and you gripped the book tightly, feeling a flicker of fire growing within your bones. 

Your mothers poem was here. In a book that was so clearly loved, so clearly worn. It felt almost sacred, imbued with a history of love and loss, cherished by someone who, like you, sought solace in its verses.

In this spell-protected sanctuary, amidst the hallowed halls of knowledge and ancient books, a realization hit you with a chilling clarity. You fought to regain composure, blinking away the tears that brimmed on your waterlines. 

A soft, feather-light sensation around your wrist startled you back to the present. You looked down at your hands, watching as Azriel’s shadows flitted around you.Their touch was so gentle, so tender that it made you itch. You snapped the book shut, shoving it back into the shelf with a loud thud. 

“If you don’t stop, I will pin you and your wings to the wall like a fucking decoration.”

Azriel let out a growl, but he refused to look your way. He didn’t have the energy needed in him to properly reciprocate the threat, didn’t quite care enough to be bothered by it. 

You let out an angry breath. “Can you please control your little creatures?”

Your hand swatted at the shadows that still circled your wrists relentlessly. 

“What are you talking about—”

Azriel’s words died in his throat as he looked at you. His body stiffened, and within seconds the shadows were dissipating from your wrists. They curled around his body, a single tendril wrapping around his ear.

Azriel’s face softened slightly, a crease forming between his furrowed eyebrows. He held your gaze for a moment. And then he was stoic once more— no trace that he had felt anything at all.

He said nothing and turned around sharply, a wave of agitation passing over his features as his shadows swirled around him. You frowned at the abrupt change in his demeanor and watched as he paced back and forth, his boots tapping softly against the library's polished floor. The repetitive movement was starting to get on your nerves and you opened your mouth, ready to make a biting comment to make him stop.  But you hesitated. Your mouth fell closed once more. 

Something felt deeply wrong. You couldn’t place your finger on it, couldn’t explain why you felt it deep in your chest, but something was wrong. 

Azriel’s shadows, usually dark and smooth like ink in water, appeared unsettled and disjointed. They moved with an unusual haste, swirling around him with an air of desperation. It wasn’t there— that seamless synchronization they usually held with him. 

His hands were clasped together, fingers flexing and fidgeting, marred by various cuts and bruises. He lingered near the sunlight that poured through the door in sharp lines across the floor. He seemed almost drawn to it, yet hesitant, like a moth wary of the flame.

Perhaps it was the troubled look on Azriel’s face, or the tenderness of his shadows, or the memory of your mother—  but something inside you settled. Whatever it was, the pointed edge in your voice melted into a more rounded, concerned tone. You threw a quick glance over your shoulder at the red leather-bound book you had clutched moments ago. 

"What's wrong with you?” 

Azriel’s eyes flicked towards the sunlight again, and you saw a wave of something you couldn’t quite place—fear, perhaps, or deep discomfort. His shadows recoiled slightly as if the light was pushing them back.

“Nothing,” he muttered, but the word rang hollow, lacking conviction.

“Bullshit,” you shot back, not unkindly. “You’re pacing like a caged animal.”

He stiffened at your words and his movements came to a halt.  

You knew what Azriel's past had been like, not fully, but enough.

Vanserras were talented in making it their business to know everyone else's, and you had made it your point to ensure you knew everything about one of your family's greatest enemies— the male standing before you now. You knew what his brothers did to him, even made pointed comments about it recently, ones you fully meant in the moment. But you had never thought deeply or long enough about it, never truly imagined a younger Azriel. Now, as you watched him pace back and forth, his wings tightly folded, his hands fidgeting near the sealed door and the sunlight, you couldn't help but see a different side of him.

Azriel had been confined to a basement, a place likely with little light and minimal freedom. Now, he was trapped here, in this room, with you. Your heart tugged with a mixture of empathy and unease, a wave of nausea rising in your throat. Before you fully comprehended what you were doing, you spoke.

“I suppose since we’re both here, I should thank you.”

Azriel spun around, caught off guard by the unexpected tone in your voice— one that was uncharacteristically gentle. His brows furrowed in suspicion as he stared at you, eyes narrowing slightly. “Thank me?”

You nodded, swallowing back your pride as you continued, “Renard came back to Autumn. I don’t know what my father did to him after, but his story was that he’d fallen into bed with a female and got lost in the pleasure — drunken bender and all.”

Azriel’s expression remained guarded, but you detected a sweep of something in his face— a wave of release as his tension visibly faded— only slightly, but enough to where his wings shifted behind him, flaring out to occupy more space.

“So thank you,” you repeated, your eyes not leaving his. “I know it was Rhysand who influenced his mind, and I know it was you who asked him to do it.”

Azriel shrugged, a terse gesture that seemed to dismiss the weight of your gratitude. He looked away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You hummed and annoyance simmered beneath your attempt at gratitude. "Fine," you said curtly, turning away to inspect the nearby bookshelves. But after a few steps, you stopped yourself and pivoted back toward him. "Actually, no. Why didn’t you just kill him?”

Azriel’s eyes met yours as you continued. 

“Renard, I mean. You could have. Probably would’ve been easier. I assume it would’ve saved you a lecture from your owne-'' You stopped yourself, and within the same breath, corrected the word you spoke. “Rhysand.”

Azriel hung onto your hesitation, his brow raising in silent inquiry as he fixed you with a penetrating stare. He cocked his head at you. “Well, that could have gotten you killed, couldn’t it have?”

You blinked and your chest tightened.  “I wasn’t aware you cared if I lived or died.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t either,” Azriel said quietly. As the words left his mouth, he stiffened and took a deep breath.

“What I mean to say is,” he started, his voice now strained with a different tone.  “You’re no use to me if you’re dead. It would be hard to maintain an alliance with your brother if I got you killed.”

You snorted, a smile playing on your lips as you absorbed his words “Right.”

But the smile you wore wasn’t bitter. It was amused if anything, which seemed to ease Azriel’s mind enough to where he was saying your name in an attempt to gather your attention. You met his gaze.

“What are you really doing here?”

There was no use in hiding. You glanced at his shadows, noting their restlessness, and realized they might even help. You decided to tell him the truth. The air was still, the room still locked, but you no longer felt suffocated. Looking at him, at the hazel in his eyes, you began.

"Renard did tell us everything we needed to know," you said, your voice steady. "He doesn't know anything because Beron doesn't know anything. He's trying to find any information on how to get power. I just thought that if I could learn more about Koschei, I could figure out how to step forward."

Azriel watched you intently. Something burned in the hazel of his eyes.

You sighed, the weight of his gaze heavy on your shoulders. "I know Helion has a special interest in folklore and legends. And I know somewhere here is a very old, very special book that has the story and origins of that stupid death god."

You thought of Eris, of your mother, of how Autumn had been these past two weeks. Beron's temper had grown more volatile, his punishments more severe. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw the flash of his cruelty, felt the sting of his whip. Your stress was a living thing now, coiling around your chest, making it hard to breathe. You were exhausted— so exhausted that you couldn’t muster the energy to be angry at Azriel as much as before, couldn’t find the effort to hide your vulnerability. 

You waited for him to say something dismissive. Instead, he simply said, "Okay.”

He glanced at his shadows. They darted out from him, spreading around the room like wisps of smoke seeking the smallest crevices. You frowned, watching as they probed the shelves and corners. 

“They’ll find it,” Azriel said. His tone was casual, but the burning in his eyes betrayed his focus. You held his gaze as it seared into you. You already knew that this look would be etched into your memory, that it would surface at times you wished it would not.

A clear hesitancy found its way onto your face through knitted brows. He was too quiet, too nice. It made you wary. 

“Unless you're eager to search hundreds of books one by one?” he added, raising a brow at your silence. “I’m happy to sit back and watch your unsuccessful search resume.”

You scowled. "No. This works."

Azriel gave a small nod and resumed his pacing, though this time, it seemed more purposeful.

You watched as the shadows flitted from shelf to shelf, their dark forms moving with an eerie grace— slipping into the gaps between books, brushing over spines, and teasing open pages.

Your mind wandered back to the poem you had read earlier, the love and sacrifice it spoke of. For some reason, your mind wandered to the shadowsinger that walked a mere few feet from you. As much as his cold exterior suggested otherwise, there were moments—fleeting, rare moments—where you saw a flicker of something more than just anger in his eyes. You wondered if Azriel understood such depths of emotion, if he had felt such love for Morrigan— if that was what blinded him into his deep loathing of you and your family.

The minutes ticked by, and you found yourself glancing at Azriel more frequently. The tension in his posture had eased, his wings now slightly unfurled as if he too felt some semblance of peace.

It was odd, being in this situation with him, and suddenly not feeling a burning, biting hatred at his presence. You were so used to that feeling of anger, that fierce, consuming rage that burned so hot it turned into desire. That you understood—the satisfaction that came with knowing he was hungry for you despite everything he hated about you. The push and pull, the electric tension, it had always defined your interactions.

You wanted to shred your skin because this female now, this emotional, open one, who was beginning to see Azriel as something more than a male to fuck and a dog to rile up, wasn't you. It made your skin crawl with a kind of vulnerability you had long since sworn off. 

You forced yourself to look away, to focus on the task at hand, but the unease lingered. The minutes stretched into an eternity before Azriel spoke again, breaking the heavy silence. 

You looked at him, noticing the shadows curling around his wrists. He was holding a book, its cover worn and ancient, and he lifted it slightly. "Here it is."

You quickly strode over, reaching for the book, but he lifted it out of your grasp. You clenched your jaw. "Give me the damned book."

He stared at you, his expression unreadable. "We can look at it together."

"Are you kidding me?" you snapped, "Are you seriously so afraid of me that you won't allow me to read a book in your presence?"

Azriel's eyes darkened slightly, but his voice remained calm. "You're not the only one seeking information about Koschei and his origins. We're on the same side about that—unless you've forgotten."

 “Fine,” you said, then added with a sarcastic edge, “I’m honestly surprised you can even read. You lack so many manners that I figured you were as slow as the rest of your kind.”

Azriel growled but handed you the book anyways, and a small smirk of satisfaction tugged at the edges of your lips. You took it from his grasp, fingers brushing against his. 

A strange jolt of something—recognition, perhaps—passed between you. You ignored it, focusing instead on the text before you.  You placed the book on a nearby table, feeling Azriel’s presence behind you, his shadows hovering around the pages. You resisted the urge to swat them away, recognizing that they were probably relaying the information to him. 

Time went by, and frustration began to mount as you found nothing new. “So he’s deathless, has no body, is powerful, confined to a lake, and has a thing for trapping females. We know all of this,” you muttered, snapping the book shut with such force that the shadows flinched. “He’s a powerful freak with a fetish for holding women captive.”

You glanced over your shoulder, a mocking smile on your lips.  “He’s basically an Illyrian without wings.”

Azriel’s jaw tightened as he stared at you. His eyes darkened for a moment, and then something flickered in them. He raised an eyebrow. “We should just offer you to Koschei. One day with you and he might be tempted to kill himself just to be free of it.”

Your eyes widened as a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. Despite sensing his expectation for your anger, you let out a laugh. Azriel blinked in surprise and his shadows stilled momentarily. He felt it again, that strange chill that ran down his back at the sound leaving your lips. His wings shuddered for a moment and he traced the movement of your mouth as it curled into a grin. 

"That was actually kind of funny, Shadowsinger," you remarked, meeting his gaze squarely. "Who knew you had a sense of humor under all of that self-loathing and impulsivity.”

Azriel glared at you, his expression carrying his usual intensity, but there was a subtle softening in his eyes. The sharp edge that usually accompanied his gaze seemed to dull slightly, hinting at a glimmer of amusement. Under the weight of his gaze, you turned your head back towards the book in front of you, finding a place for your eyes to settle that wasn’t his hazel ones. Still, the heat radiated off his body— he was too close, entirely too close.

Ignoring him, you glanced towards the door and noticed the sunlight had lessened. "I believe your little creatures are safe to wander," you remarked coolly, "I think you could do us both a favor and send them to get us the hell out of here."

Azriel let out a grumble, but you observed as shadows flitted across the floor and through the cracks. Relief washed over you at the thought of soon being free from this place, away from Azriel's unsettling presence.

Yet, you could still feel him staring at you. 

"Why go through all of this trouble?" His voice was steady, probing.  "Search for a book you weren't even sure had any answers? Without my shadows, you could have spent hours going through each shelf to find it."

You gritted your teeth. "Gods, do you always ask so many questions?"

"Humor me," he replied evenly.

"I think I've done a bit too much of that recently," you retorted, a hint of exasperation coloring your tone.

You sighed, feeling his intense stare burning into your back. Turning around completely to face him, you gripped against the table, trying to control the heat rising within you. Azriel’s eyes were already on you when you found the will to look at him. 

"You admitted it yourself a few weeks ago. You'd go to extreme lengths for your family, too.”

He raised his eyebrow slightly. “All of this effort for that cruel brother of yours?"

Your anger flared and you felt your body tense as the ember of your powers simmered beneath your skin. But as you glanced at Azriel, his gaze unexpectedly open, you recalled your last conversation with him, how angry you were at the realization that Eris deserved better, that no one would ever let him live down his past. But here, staring at Azriel, in a space that felt so intimate, maybe you could push a new perspective even harder, force a seed of understanding. 

Taking a breath to steady yourself, you decided to reach out beyond the walls of your blinding anger.

"The only difference between your brother and mine is that Eris won’t try to write off his actions as for the greater good. Sometimes bad things are just bad things. And we all have to do bad things to survive."

Azriel scanned your face, his gaze lingering so long that you immediately regretted saying anything. The feeling rose in your throat like bile and a simmering heat spread through your chest, a fire you almost wished would consume you. 

“I’m sorry,” Azriel finally said, “That you couldn’t find anything. That you wasted a day here.”

His tone was so soft that you were almost tempted to believe that he meant it— that he was being sincere. Your chest tightened. That reality was unlikely, and you quickly let your defenses kick in, looking away with a roll of your eyes. 

"Don’t mock me," you snapped.

Azriel's expression hardened as he frowned. "What?" 

Meeting his gaze angrily, you reiterated, "I said, don't mock me. Pretending to care is cruel, even for you."

You released your grip on the table and turned to walk past him, but he reached out, grabbing your hand firmly, pulling you to him. The touch sent a chill through your arm. 

“By the Cauldron, must you fight me on everything?” He said through clenched teeth. “Can’t you just let me say that I'm sorry?" 

You stared at him, taking in his troubled expression, the way his eyes seemed to hold a storm of conflicting emotions. Pulling your hand from his grasp, you rubbed the spot where his touch lingered, as if trying to erase his imprint on you.

"I'm just supposed to believe that you've suddenly had a change of heart?" 

Azriel ran a hand through his hair. "You are infuriating, you know that?" 

"Ah yes, a supposed genuine apology followed by insult. Hypocritical as usual, Shadowsinger." 

Exasperation flickered across Azriel's face. "If I wanted to insult you, princess, I'd do a much better job than calling you infuriating."

You held his stare, anger and suffocation swirling within you. Your hands curled into fists as Azriel's troubled gaze continued to burn into yours.

He followed the line of your neck as you swallowed, his eyes lingering on you in a way that felt too intense for the confined space. Perhaps it was the lack of his shadows, the absence of his usual watchful companions, but Azriel found himself moving closer to you despite your recoil.

"What is it about you that drives me insane?" he murmured his voice barely above a whisper.

Your brow furrowed in confusion and your stomach twisted into a knot.  "What are you talking about?"

"These past two weeks," he continued, his tone tinged with something raw and unguarded. "You have not left my mind. I hear your voice, calling me weak."

You scoffed and looked away. "So I have hurt your feelings. A bit pathetic, don't you think?" 

Azriel shook his head. "No. You didn't hurt my feelings, Y/N."

The sound of your name on his lips sent a shiver through your body and your chest tightened.  His gaze flickered down to your mouth briefly before meeting your eyes again. You found yourself unable to look away.

“You want Eris to be High Lord,” Azriel stated, “I will help you make that come to fruition.”

You stared at Azriel, momentarily stunned. His words hung in the air, mingling with the charged, suffocating atmosphere between you. The intensity of his gaze made you feel exposed, vulnerable, and yet there was a gleam of something else—it felt like hope, buried deep beneath layers of mistrust.

"Why? You hate Eris.”

"It is one cruel leader for another. But at least this way, it will benefit my home. And then I can be free of you and work to take down Koschei."

His words sunk in slowly. He can be free of you. You tried to read his expression. Azriel extended his hand towards you, palm upturned. 

"We seal this bargain," he said solemnly, his eyes searching yours. “No more sneaking around and I will help you. You get what you want.”

You hesitated. But something inside you—a desperate need for a way out of this predicament, a glimmer of hope for a future where Eris could be High Lord—compelled you to reach out. You placed your hand in his, feeling the warmth of his palm against yours.

As soon as your skin touched, a surge of energy coursed through you both— a burning sensation, starting from your intertwined hands and spreading outward. Azriel's eyes widened imperceptibly, and you sensed him searching for the hidden markings that sealed your pact. He found nothing on your exposed skin. 

You withdrew your hand slowly. There was a newfound weight to the air. You opened your mouth to speak when a burst of sunlight pierced through the dimness of the room. 

You took a large step back, gaze darting to the entrance of the room. Helion strode in with characteristic grace, his presence commanding the room effortlessly as tendrils of shadow snaked towards Azriel, winding their way up his body.

Helion's eyes swept over the scene before him. His expression gave away nothing as he observed you and Azriel. After a moment, he finally spoke. 

"Out of all the collectables in this room, I have to say seeing you two together is the rarest thing I've set my eyes on.”

You shot a quick glance at Azriel. You offered Helion a small smile. “Helion–”

Helion lifted a hand gently. "I'm not sure I want to know," he said. His gaze settled on you. "Have you done anything I need to be wary of?"

You shook your head firmly. "No."

"Then that's all I need," Helion replied casually, his attention now turning to Azriel. "Am I correct to assume Rhysand has no idea you're here?" 

You frowned, head turning to look at Azriel, who managed to meet your gaze briefly before looking back at the High Lord that stood before you. Azriel said nothing, opting to clench his jaw. 

“Alright.” Helion let out a small breath, pursing his lips in thought. "I'm known to keep a secret or two.”

He did, indeed. You knew this now more than ever.

You took advantage of Helion’s presence to observe him closely, taking in his chiseled features and the graceful stature in which he stood. Despite the reputation both you and Eris had garnered, Helion had always been fair to you, not quick to judge. You wondered now if that was due to something beyond an innate sense of empathy he held— if he had a sense of loyalty to you because of the blood that ran in your veins. 

"Let me escort you both out," Helion offered finally, breaking the silence that had settled between the three of you. Without waiting for a response, he turned towards the door. 

As you walked with him, you heard a faint shuffling behind you. From the corner of your eye, you glimpsed Azriel adjusting his posture, the tail end of his movement obscured as he tucked his wings further and clasped his hands behind his back. His shadows coiled around him more tightly than usual. He fell into line behind you. 

You felt a peculiar sensation in your chest. Instinctively, your hand rose to settle over the spot just above your heart. There was a subtle sensation of heat— a tingling warmth that lingered beneath your touch. 

You ignored it as Helion led you out of the library.  

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

enemies.... to enemies to with benefits.... now to tentative allies....dare i say.... friends?

this is a lil turning point for our two cunty losers bc now their bickering is less cruel and vile and its just teasing ugh my HEART

permanent tag list 🫶🏻:

@rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon

@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg

@evergreenlark @marina468 @azriels-human @sarawritestories

[fallstheking]

loser!ellie college headcanons

ellie has a crush // pt 1 of ?

pt 2

mdni

contains ; nothing but her being so down bad and having no game

• loser!ellie who expected to finish college as the only girl on the hockey team to never score (and she didn't mean points- she scored those.) (sometimes.)

• loser!ellie who first saw you in at a party that the hockey team dragged her to and abigail fucking anderson started talking about you and was about to go make a move and ellie freaked the fuck out and purposely spilled her drink on you just so she could pull you away from the crowd because oh my god you were so pretty it hurt her

• loser!ellie who you were absolutely pissed at for ruining your shirt but she smiled at you all sheepish and lopsided with those puppy dog eyes and you melted

• loser!ellie who invited you to her next game and when you showed up with her number painted on your cheek and cheered for her loud as fuck she nearly melted on the ice

• loser!ellie who got benched immediately because her head wasn't in the game

• loser!ellie who found out you worked at a campus cafe and started dragging jesse and dina all the way across campus with her every morning and was subsequently late for her first class every day

• loser!ellie who didn't realize you had written your number on her cup until she had already thrown it away and then dug it out of the trashcan in broad daylight

• loser!ellie who texted you immediately with a meme like this and completely forgot to say who she was (you knew)

• loser!ellie who thought you hated her because you just responded 'lmao' and proceeded to have an actual crisis over it

• loser!ellie who got a text from you four hours later that was a lot less dry and she realized oh you were probably just busy

• loser!ellie who found out you liked music and then did absolutely everything in her power to figure out what music you liked so she could learn it on guitar

• loser!ellie who lowk stalked you on instagram for weeks but waited for you to follow her first so she wouldn't seem like a weirdo

• loser!ellie who then immediately started posting memes like this on her story

• loser!ellie who oh my god oh my god you liked the stories oh my god

• loser!ellie who ahejeknjdjd you reposted them to your story ????

• loser!ellie who realized you hadn't missed a game since the first one she invited you to???

• loser!ellie who asked joel for advice lmao

so theres this girl i go to school with and

• dad!joel who laugh reacted the message (ellie would yell at her sister sarah for teaching him how to do that later)

• loser!ellie who finally got the nerve to ask you out and went into the coffee shop so confident and then saw you weren't working

hey ur not working this morning?

hi ellie !! no not today i'm sick

• loser!ellie who bought some premade soup and some peppermint tea and literally ran to your place (she has a car??)

• loser!ellie who asked you out while you were dying (a bit sick) of the plague (a cold) and it was her last chance (you would be back at work in 2 days) to profess her undying love (huge crush) on the fair maiden (cute barista) before her

• loser!ellie who short circuited when you said yes and just stared at you in unblinking silence for so long you had to call dina and jesse to come get her ass

• loser!ellie who didn't realize you had liked her back from the moment she smiled at you at that party

• loser!ellie who bragged to abby about bagging you

• loser!ellie who is never letting you go

first post completed! feels so good i hope u guys love it

[thefandomsfervent]

Personal Pigments Viktor x Reader (Part 1) - Cadmium Yellow Deep Hue

Heimerdinger forgets to warn the science bros that an artist is coming in to visualize them and Hextech, a collaborative program between a Piltover art school and the academy for some new hall meant to be unveiled at an upcoming progress day. Large paintings can take years to do, with Hextech’s promising growth they are to be started in a preemptive manner. Reader is from Zaun, not sure what I’m going to do with this yet. Takes place in the coming months after they first get council approval, hexgates aren't complete. Wrote an imagine (here) and now I’m needing to see it through, would y’all want more?

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Viktor should be focusing. He is, but not on the right thing. His hands still fiddle with cogs as he looks to you for the umpteenth time this hour. Your brows were furrowed together as you compared pastels and pencils together.  Your lips pursed to the side as if you were biting your cheek in concentration. He would have been worried about being caught starting but your focus was elsewhere.

You had papers clipped to a drawing board in front of you.  The stool you usually sat on abandoned by the small table next to you.  He watched as your hands turned colored sticks over, looking for something. He didn't know what, but he appreciated the view regardless. 

In this summer heat the lab was humid, Jayce had gone out for water and Viktor himself had forgone his vest. You were starting to sketch something in wide yellow strokes, the smooth scrape of pressed pigment to paper filling the heavy air. You hummed a sound of affirmation, as if finally approving your choice before grabbing another stick in blue. As you continued your efforts, he took in all of you. A loose button up over a tank top, well fitting trousers, simple boots. The same attire you'd worn for weeks, but today something was different. The tank-top was a lower,  looser cut. Likely chosen for the heat plaguing Piltover this summer. Your warming up sketches facing a daylit window. 

“Composition, speed, and colour work.” The words you had said months ago lingering in the back of his mind. “You can never practice too much.”

He sees you from the side, the strap had been half way off your shoulder all morning. Innocent enough. Not truly your fault in any way.  

The white over shirt unbuttoned. Also loosely caught by your elbows, draping over your work surface. Picking up colors and dust. He follows the sleeves up to your hands, to your arms. He should be working. Reading a section in another overdue library book. Not watching you. Not following the gentle way you pick up and set down your pastels, certainly not the way today’s heat has exposed your neck, your shoulders, your collarbones and how they lead to the hollow of your neck. He looks away for a moment. Steeling himself. 

Surely he is not ogling you. That would be inappropriate. Yes, it has been a long time since he has been able to indulge in thoughts of that manner. But he shouldn't start down that kind of path here.

A clattering sound pulls his gaze back to you, a soft curse leaving your lips as you have to bend down to grab a pencil that rolled off your desk. His breath catches in his throat, your tanktop drooping lower when you lean down. The swell of your breasts, the curve of your bra revealing itself in a sinful second. The moment was very quick, and to his luck you didn't notice. The lab door opens as Jayce walks in. Ice cold water in a pitcher, three glasses on a tray. 

He sets one down on your desk looking over your shoulder. "The window today?"

"Just something quick, the sun is hitting the glass just right." You punctuate your sentence with the wave of a pencil towards the shaft of light illuminating a stack of books.

"I see," he says as he walks over to one of the many messy tables near you to set down the tray. He brings another glass to viktor. If he notices the red flushing his partner's face he doesn't say.  Maybe he assumed it was this wretched heat. In a way, it was the fault of the weather. 

"Thank you," Viktor says, just before he downs the whole glass. 

He gets an acknowledging pat on his shoulder before Jayce settles in his own station.  Each of you returning to your own work. The silent hum of drawing and tinkering becomes a soothing balm on the room, and on the tension in his shoulders. He fiddles with his engraver, marking runes onto various metal bits. He wonders to himself how he even got into this position. How he finds his thoughts, and apparently his eyes, wandering to you. 

He remembers that first day, how many months has it been since you’ve come here? 

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-------------------.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ Part 2.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .---------------------

------------‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙· Master Fic List *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊--------------

[planeteroticaaa]

— ALL MINE

(part of erotica’s & lovae’s valentines special💋)

ice hockeyplayer!jean who walked around the campus with the many gifts and trinkets various girls gave him, each one wishing him good luck for the big game today. he didn’t care about the chocolates, teddy bears, or the other stupid shit they gave him. hell, he didn’t even bother reading the love letters. none of it meant anything to him when he had to figure out an over the top way to make you his valentines because not only were you his soulmate and the one he’s supposed to grow old with, but he needed to win you back.

he walked past your lecture hall like he did everyday on his way to his own, thinking about how he used to be late to his own class trying to walk you to yours. it never mattered to him seeing as he always made up for it by participating in class and getting high grades on assignments. he didn’t know why he still poked his head inside the room to see if you were there. he tells himself and his friends that it’s to make sure you “got to class safely”, but in reality, he knows nothing’s gonna happen to you in the 5 to 6 minute walk from the dining hall to your lecture. truth be told, he really just wanted to see you. since the two of you broke up, you avoided him like the plague, but he knew you would have no choice but to see him when he’d visit the room you were in daily, using the fact that one of his teammates was in the same class as you.

though today was different because right when he was about to go into the room, he watched that very teammate ask you out with flowers and chocolates. he glared, scoffing watching you act all “excited” about candies you hated and flowers that weren’t even your favorite. it took everything in him to stop himself from going in there and breaking his jaw when you kissed his cheek and hugged him with your arms around his neck and his on your waist. how would you feel watching him kiss a girl after reading her love declaration?! it was even worse knowing he would have to play with him later today. the whole team knew he was still obsessed with you, especially this guy since he always teased jean about it so what fuck was he doing asking you out?

he thought about it the entire day. he knew that many guys were interested in you, but he didn’t think somebody would actually be bold enough to do something about their feelings. he had on his gear, ready for the final game of the season. his coach’s words of motivation went in one ear and out the other as he stared down his smug ass teammate. as everyone started to hype themselves up with different handshakes and chants, jean remained quiet, even bumping his shoulder going past him. his final straw was seeing you cheering at the game, just, not for him. you screamed that asshole’s name, your friends alongside you all happy about your possible new relationship and when he winked at you, jean tackled him onto the ice.

he knew he was in a world of trouble now once he got on top of him. he grabbed the collar of his shirt and began punching him, not stopping when the guy managed to get situated and got a few hits in, or when the security rushed over, or when he heard his coach yelling at him from the side. he had slight bruising on his cheek, his lip was bleeding, his knuckles were scratched up when he threw his gloves off, and he was being penalized and cussed out by his coach, but it was worth seeing you stare at him with your mouth gaped open. your more confused than pissed face said, “did you seriously just do that?” and the wink he gave you with the smirk on his lips while his coach spat in his face said, “yeah, and i’d do it a thousand times over.”

he wasn’t shocked when you went home right after the incident. he was hoping to talk to you once the game was over, but it worked out since it gave him time to buy the snacks and sweets you actually liked, flowers that were actually your favorite, and prepare his “i’m sorry, please take me back” speech. he originally wanted to do something crazy to show his never ending love, but it was clear after today he had no time to waste. with a done up basket, pretty flowers, and a speech he recited under his breath on the way to the door, he was ready though when he knocked on your front door and you opened it wearing his spare jersey he thought he lost with nothing visibly under it, arms crossed over your chest and leaning against the door frame with a disapproving look on your face, everything he planned to say left him at that very second. “well?” you asked with an eyebrow raised. “gimme another chance?” he asked, an unsure grin on his pretty, bandaged face. you looked him up and down and just sighed before grabbing him by his shirt collar and dragging him inside the room.

“s-shit baby…you’re squeezing me so tight,” he groaned, his head thrown back on your pillow, big, veiny hands on your hips as you bounced yourself on his cock with your hands back behind you on his strong thighs. you almost forgot how big and girthy his dick was, the stretch burning you when you first sat down on it after months of nothing and guys that were no match to him. “look so beautiful riding me like that,” he said mostly to himself, staring up at you with lust blown pupils, taking in the blissful expressions you made and the softness of your breast as he massaged them under the jersey.

fuck, it felt amazing, the veins running along his length grazing your walls, the curve ensuring the fat tip hit you right where you needed it, the thickness of it giving you that same delicious burn from before that had your legs about to give out, the ring of white cream you made at the base of his cock dripping down his balls, ass sticking to his pelvis from your mixed, gluey essences. you were getting tired and he could tell you were with how you occasionally didn’t bounce, but instead rocked your hips with your nails digging into his skin and biting down on your bottom lip.

he watched you, wondering when you’d quit being stubborn and admit you need help as he moved his hands all over your body, pinching your nipples, gripping your waist, harshly slapping your ass. he hadn’t had you like this in months, dick inside your tight walls making a mess all over him and whatever surface was beneath you. how long had it been since you fucked somebody? he hadn’t done anything to any woman since you’d broken up, even going as far to tell them that he was still with you. well, it didn’t matter, he could tell from the whimpers and whines that left your lips as your desperately rode him to continue that sensation of his cock bruising your cervix that if anybody fucked you, it wasn’t like this.

it was when your pace significantly slowed down that he sighed and pulled you down to him. your arms immediately wrapped around his neck like you were waiting for him to do this as he propped his feet into the bed sheets. with his hands on your ass, spreading it apart, he started to thrust up into your pussy. you screamed, eyes rolling back as his fat cock dragged in and out of you, balls slapping against you from the fast, rough change in pace. you could tell much he missed you from the way he hugged you close to him while making you cream in his cock. “yes! j-jean—yes, just like that, don’t stop!” you cried out, drool dripping down your chin as he fucked you further through your orgasm, overstimulating your pussy when he reached a hand down to rub harsh circles on your puffy, throbbing clit.

“missed you so much, baby,” jean grunted, the speed of his thrust into your pussy not letting up. “i—i missed you too! missed you so much,” you cried, moving your head from its spot in the crook of your neck to look him in his light brown eyes. your lips soon met his, tongue hastily pushing inside his mouth and swirling along his after such a long time without one another. everything was messy, saliva coating both of your chins, the liquids from your previous orgasms painting the bedsheets and allowing him to better fuck up into you with ease, the thin layer of sweat that covered your bodies sticking the two of you together.

“please, please, please fill me up,” you babbled incoherently, begging when you felt his cock start twitching inside your tight, gummy walls. his thrust became rougher, the broken, but rough and intense rhythm of his mushroom tip hitting everywhere you needed it too taking you to the brink of another orgasm. “imma fill your pretty pussy with my cum…she’s missed me so much, hasn’t she?” “yes! s-so much!” you gasped, eyes in the back of your head and body jerking as you started creaming all over him again. “i’m cumming! ‘m cumming, ‘m cumming, fuckkk!” you practically sobbed, pussy gushing. your walls spasmed around his cock, making him pump your insides with his hot, thick, ropes of cum.

you felt it leak out of your abused hole as he continued to fuck and overstimulating the two of you through your orgasms to the point you were crying and he was biting down on your shoulder with his eyes rolled back. you continued to fill the room with the most filthy noises, the sweet squelching sound from you pussy echoing and the slapping of your skin on his being all that you could hear once he had you seeing stars because he didn’t stop, even when he was about to cry from the overwhelming feeling himself. he was just too scared to lose you again.

[nashusglasses]

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(background to this nsfw drabble)

thinking of marriage of convenience AU with jing yuan and general’s daughter!reader from xianzhou yuque. a rogue sect of the disciples of sanctus medicus try to execute a plot to destroy a jade abacus warehouse on the yuque—important machinery is destroyed, two critical injuries reported, one death—and intra-alliance tensions among the populace start to boil over. arrests are made. citizens are scared. general yaoguang knows the cloud knights are smart and resource-savvy enough not to respond to any taunts from angry yuque residents of the luofu, but he’s champing at the bit trying to quell public dissatisfaction on either ship. it’s fu xuan who suggests it in one meeting with jing yuan and yaoguang.

“great relations,” she says, “start with an even greater union.”

you’ve been married for five months. you’re lucky if you see jing yuan more than twice a week, and today he’s holed up in his home office signing off on contracts for the alchemy commission to order new supplies. he’d said good morning when you entered the kitchen for breakfast, and you could only offer a nod before he bade you farewell for the day. a typical conversation. you’re not unhappy, but you are awfully bored. 

your handmaiden, lihua, promised a new harvest from the garden today. she’s back by the time you’re done with your speech lessons (you still struggle to adapt to the local dialect, but jing yuan has always been kind not to fuss about your vowel inflections), and you help her wash and spread the fruits on bamboo-woven trays in the cool heat of the afternoon. 

“does jing yuan have anything to drink on days like this?” you ask lihua.

she hums thoughtfully. “i’m sure he’d appreciate his wife coming to greet him with something sweet. can i show you how to make simple syrup?”

it’s simple enough. you make a pitcher of iced lemonade in no time, and lihua prepares a tray for you to bring a glass to jing yuan’s office. you shake with every step you take. internally, you scold yourself for feeling so anxious — this is your husband. jing yuan, who asked you personally for your allergies and food preferences to curate a menu for your daily consumption for the kitchen staff to follow. jing yuan, who had a room specially built for you in the east wing after you’d told your father how much you’d miss seeing the sunrise from your window. jing yuan, who’d once accidentally walked in on you in the hot springs on his rare day off, and grew as red as an angry tuskpir, leaving with a hasty apology. (you didn’t see him for three weeks after that.)

you steel your resolve, and knock on the door. when he doesn’t answer, you gently creak the door open, jing yuan coming into view as he’s hunched over sheets of paper, hair tied haphazardly with his red ribbon. he holds his pen so rigidly. you wonder if he’s taken a break at all today. 

you tiptoe in, lest you break his focus. “sorry,” you whisper. “i brought this for you.”

jing yuan spares you a single glance, watching you position the glass at the edge of his desk. he does not say a word. 

you think… he might be a little peeved. yes. why would you even think of interrupting him? oh god. his schedule must be packed tight, his rhythm stunted with your unannounced arrival. you immediately open your mouth for an apology, feeling the pinpricks of tears at the thought of disappointing him.

he’s already looking away. his writing is even faster than before. you leave with a bow and nothing else to say.

(jing yuan drinks your lemonade in three gulps after you’ve closed the door behind you. he reminds himself to have a bundle of flowers delivered to your bedroom door by sunrise the next morning. for the rest of his working day, your face, so beautifully concerned, plagues his head.

he wants to know what else makes you cry.)

[the-rat-house]

Daroach just growls as Davoth disappears. His ego was bruised, his body was battered, and he wanted nothing more than to follow after and beat the man to an inch of his pathetic immortal life.

But he couldn't. All he could do is let the magic dissipate from the Triple Star and collapse fully onto the ground once again. At the very least, he did his best to try and remember the shape of that rune. Stars willing, he'd be able to get it scratched down before forgetting it. He didn't exactly have a pen and paper to do so with right now though.

Spinni and Doc got there with a couple more moments, along most of the Squeakers on the ships, and together they were able to get Daroach off the ground and to the medbay. Daroach, before passing out, did his best to describe the rune to Doc.

They could look into this more later. They would be looking more into this later.

Davoth could sense multiple life signals closing in on both him and Daroach. That’s an indicator that the former should leave now.

The rat being hurt alone was more than enough satisfaction, if the malicious grin alone was any indicator.

“And here, I expected much more from a ship captain. What a pity.” The doppelganger rat stated. “Let this be a reminder and lesson for you, mortal.”

With one charge of volatile energy, Davoth disappeared as it dispersed, leaving behind a trail of teleportation mark. It was shaped like circle with a rune of sorts, and one never seen within Gamble Galaxy’s locality before.

It still glowed like embers of dying fire.

[m00nkissedlover]

・｡The Plan 💋

You've ordered: blueberry ice cream! enjoy!

"I'm trying to kiss your lips for real" (inspred by the song "APT." by Rosé and Bruno Mars)

Regulus Black x reader | word count: 1,348 words

Summary: when you have a dream about regulus, dorcas and marlene work to make it a reality 💋

Warnings: like one curse word. other than that, none! just fluff!

Note: another regulus fic, yayyyy! (a.k.a: the reggie brainrot's really getting to me-) again, i apologize if this fic seems inaccurate. feel free to correct me on things or give feedback!

You were currently holed up on your dorm, covered in a bunch of blankets as you internally screamed and panicked. One would wonder, why were you in this state of hysteria? Because you had a dream. But not just any dream. A dream about kissing someone. And that someone was...

"REGGIE?" Dorcas yelled in disbelief, throwing her arms around the mound that was created by your body underneath the covers.

You mumbled something, but it was muffled by the blankets. "Honey, we can't hear you." Marlene said, sitting next to you.

You reluctantly poked your head out of the mound, immediately resting your head in her lap.

"What the hell am I supposed to do? I can't even look at Regulus..." you repeated, your eyes fluttering shut as Marlene gently played with your hair.

"Oh, come on. Yeah, it's embarrassing, but I bet it's not that bad." Dorcas quipped, playfully poking your cheek.

"Today, in potions class, he asked me to hand him a vial of something," you began, cringing at your actions.

"And?" Marlene asked.

"I started coughing uncontrollably and pretended like I need to go to the infirmary. And when he offered to take me, I just....ran out of the room..." you admitted, covering your face with your hands.

"Ooh, yeah, that's bad." Dorcas said, earning herself a smack on the thigh from her girlfriend. "What? What did i say?"

"Ignore Dorcas. I'm sure if you just go and explain-!" You immediately cut Marlene off, a slight look of horror forming on your face.

"You want ME to tell THE Regulus Black that I had a dream about kissing him? Oh, yeah. 'Hey Reggie. Sorry I've been so awkward around you lately. I just had a dream about sucking face and swapping spit with you.'" you said sarcastically. "Do you know how embarrassing that would be?"

"If you would let me finish, bub," Marlene said, glancing over at a giggling dorcas then back at you.

"Obviously, you're not gonna tell him you dreamt about kissing him. Just tell him....you've been having....thoughts about him." "That's even worse!" you exclaimed, sitting up out of her lap.

"Then what do you suggest-" Just then, a wicked little smirk found its way onto Marlene's lips. Youou knew that look and you did not like it.

The blonde leaned over and whispered something into her girlfriend's ear, the two of them exchanging the same mischievous expression.

"Whatever you two are planning, leave me out of it." "Honey, you're the main character of what we're planning." Dorcas giggled, making you curl up into your blanket mound once again.

It had been three days since your "talk" with Dorcas and Marlene. And things weren't getting even the slightest bit better. You were avoiding the poor boy like the plague. Walking in the opposite direction when you saw him in the halls, making up excuses to leave early when you had to work together, even hiding behind a couch in the common room when he'd walk in. Yet again, the girls tried to urge you to take some action, but you obviously refused. So, they had no choice but to take matters into their own hands.

It was a quiet afternoon and you were chilling with the others in the Slytherin common room. Barty and Evan were lounging on the couch talking about god knows what, Regulus looking up from his book to shoot them a judgmental side eye. Dorcas and Marlene were talking by the window and you sat with Pandora and Lily, complaining about whatever classes you had next.

Your conversation was interrupted by Marlene and Dorcas walking over and taking Lily's and Pandora's hands into their own.

"Sorry to interrupt, but it's time for us to go. We have things to do." Marlene said, pulling lily along.

"What things?" Pandora asked, earning herself a sharp look from Dorcas.

"You know: the thing and that other thing." she said, sounding completely confident. It took a few seconds for Pandora and Lily to get the picture.

"Ah, the thing! Yeah, we gotta go do that! Uh, Barty, Evan. could you two come help us?" Lily asked, opening the door. The two boys were obviously in on whatever this was, giggling like little children as they followed the girls out.

"Uh, Regulus and I can help-!" "Nope, no need! I mean, six people should be able to deal with it! Byeeeee!" Marlene yelled, slamming the door shut.

You were completely dumbfounded as you stared at the door, jumping out of your skin as you heard the dark haired slytherin speak behind you.

"I knew that lot of idiots was up to something." he sighed, sinking back into the couch. You bit back a laugh, trying to ignore your clammy palms and the ever growing knot in your stomach as you sat next to him, a few feet between you two.

"Yeah, they're....always up to something...." you muttered, your heart hammering so loudly in your ears, you didn't even realize Regulus had been telling you something till he nudged your arm.

"Hm?" you muttered, widening your eyes a little to signal you were listening this time.

"What is going on with you? You've been acting strangely lately-" No, you did not want to have this conversation. You needed to get out of here. Now.

"You know, they might need some help," you said, moving to get up. As you did, Regulus caught your wrist, a frown on his lips.

"Yoi're not going anywhere until you explain yourself. I know you've been avoiding me on purpose." Ah, shit.

You reluctantly sat back down, fidgeting with your fingers as you avoided eye contact. "Promise you won't think i'm weird?"

Regulus raised an eyebrow, finally nodding his head and muttering a quick "Promise."

"Recently i had a dream-"

"So you've been avoiding me....because of a dream you had?" Regulus cut you off and you could already see his ears turning red.

"W-wait, it's not like that!" you exclaimed, covering your face with your hands and groaning.

Regulus blinked as he watched you crumble in embarrassment, a slight smile forming on his lips. "Well....then what was the dream about?"

You took a breath, looking away from him, your hands now gripping the cushions of the couch. "It was about...us. We were....we were kissing, okay?"

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, Regulus obviously taken aback. "Kissing?"

"Yeah. You...you leaned in and kissed me and...it felt so real. I almost wished it was." you admitted, finally turning your head to look him in the eyes. "I like you, regulus black. And I want to kiss you...for real."

Regulus felt like his heart would burst, his eyes shaking a little as he coughed awkwardly, looking at his lap, then back at you. "You really want to kiss me?"

"Right now....more than anything." Before you could even get another breath out, Regulus was in your space, hand cupping your cheek. the cold touch of his silver rings against your cheek made you shiver a little. Your breath hitched, your eyes gazing into his pretty gray ones.

"Glad to hear it. because I," he leaned in a bit closer, his lips hovering over yours. "Want to kiss you too."

The kiss was short and sweet, lasting a few seconds before Regulus pulled away, your eyes locking. You felt a warmth flood your heart, the way he looked at you making your lips curve up into a smile. You wordlessly leaned back in, your fingers knotting into his curly forest of hair. This time, the kiss was slow and slightly passionate, jolts of joy and pleasure running through your body.

When the two of you separated again, you were both smiling like idiots, a hue of pink coloring Regulus's cheeks. "Looks like their plan worked after all." you murmured, causing Regulus to raise an eyebrow.

"What plan?" he mused as a bit of laughter left your lips.

"Don't worry about it." you hummed, closing the gap between you two once more. You'd definitely have to thank Dorcas and Marlene later. 💋

© m00nkissedlover, 2024

[milliesfishes]

ok but like what if someone hurts you and you don’t wanna tell billy about it bc you don’t wanna start something but he sees it and gets REALLY protective and starts asking a bunch of questions? also i love you❤️

I love you too anon ❤️❤️❤️ @phantomamor , @francixoxoxo no need to recount the votes

౨ৎ꣑ৎyou get hurt and don't tell billy౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x billy the kid TW: violence by man

Your side was aching. The throbbing sensation shot fingers of pain like the roots of a tree squiggling across your midsection, causing you to wince as you got down from your horse. The air was crisp, the thin fabric of your coat doing little to keep you safe from the winter chill. You winced, hand flying to the affected area as you planted one foot on the ground, and then the other, snow and ice crunching under your boot. You petted the horse's neck, trying to breathe through the pain.

It had been a long time coming. This seemed to happen whenever you went into town. The same man would approach you, ask where you were going and what you were doing and you'd brush him off. His intentions were anything but pure- you could see it all too clearly from the look in his eyes.

All the while you ran your errands today you kept to yourself, letting your hair curtain your cheeks. It was best to keep your head down, you'd discovered, to not answer any questions and simply pretend he wasn't there. Surely it would work this time.

You managed to get through it all without him speaking to you again. As you packed your purchases into your saddlebags you finally allowed yourself a sigh of relief. Finally you could look forward to making your way back home.

But like a shadow, the man reappeared, and this time he was close enough for you to smell the sickly sweet of alcohol on his breath. Your shoulders had tensed, and a dart of fear hit you dead center. He said something you couldn't hear due to your pounding heart.

There was a beat of silence when you failed to respond, hoping he would go away. You held your breath, stiffening, wishing Billy were here.

It happened in an instant that your memory discarded immediately. The dirt was beneath your palms, skinning your hands raw and bloody. Your knees hit the earth with a dull thud. Ice. The snow became crimson and the cold nearly buckled your elbows. But you held yourself up, an overwhelming pain in your side tearing at the numbness like scissors. Voices were muffled around you.

You could hear the man shouting, his words slurred. An outlaw's whore, he called you. Taking in a shaky breath, you tried to regather yourself, hastily put your pieces back together.

A kind soul helped you up. You thanked them distractedly. When you were asked if you were okay you nodded, fingers curling to cover your hands. The ride home was blurry. There was hardly anything to do other than grasp the reins and stare straight ahead. Your choice of protection from the temperature hardly made any difference. All your senses were fuzzy.

As you now treaded toward your little dwelling, a sense of dread overwhelmed you, the dull shield dissolving to reveal a blizzard of feelings flurrying around in your chest. You knew Billy was home- he wasn't able to leave much these days. Wanted posters bearing his face had spread the town limits like a plague, keeping him from being at your side. Even as he'd watched you leave the house this morning you could tell he wasn't fond of the idea. His sweetheart moseying into town all by herself? It was unthinkable.

You uncurled your hands, surveying the dried blood that crystallized on your palms. It stung, adding to the hurt in your knees and your side, which had hit the ground first.

Kneeling and putting the pressure on your lower leg rather than your kneecaps, you plunged your hands into a mound of icy white, teeth sinking into your lip so you wouldn't make any noise. Mussing around your fingers, when you lifted them it left bloody palm prints in the previously pale substance. At least your hands were cleaner now, even if you were shivering.

Standing, you kicked more snow over the evidence. No need for Billy to come out later and find it. He'd have questions, and you didn't want to answer any. He had enough to worry about these days.

Stomping your feet at the makeshift porch, you twisted the door handle and made your way inside. Billy was kneeling in front of the fire, blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He stared into the flames, endlessly contemplating.

You hung your hat by the door and toed off your boots, setting your bag down. He looked up, a grin broadening his lips. As you smiled back at him, your chin quivered from the cold. He waited until you took your coat off before reaching a hand out. "C'mere."

Gratefully you took it, letting him pull you into the cocoon of his arms. He dragged the corners of the blanket around you too, tangling your legs with his. Billy swayed back and forth just slightly, one big hand rubbing up and down your back in hopes that the friction would inject warmth back into your body.

He kissed your cheek, nosing against it. "How was town?" Even the low vibration of his voice was like a healing balm to your train wreck of a time.

"Good," you promised, smiling sweetly. Billy gathered your hair behind your ear, snuggling you closer with his other arm.

"You're freezin', sweetheart," he murmured, and you shivered, almost as a response. At that he adjusted the blanket so it covered your back and got up, heavy footsteps thumping the air like a heartbeat. You watched him snatch another blanket from the edge of the sofa, hurrying back to you with the urgency only a lover could have.

Billy spread it out on the floor, sitting down and reaching for you. You obliged quickly, lying right beside him, closer to the fire. Before you laid down you tossed the further edge of your blanket over both of your feet. When you settled next to him it was paradise.

He pulled you right up against his side, lips finding their home in your hair. "'m sorry I couldn't go with you." Guilt swathed the corners of his apology, only cementing your decision not to bring up what had happened today. Learning about it would only heighten his feelings, get him worked up over something neither of you could control.

"It's okay," you promised, opening your eyes. His own were solemn, and you read something in them that couldn't be put into words. Still, you understood. He didn't think it was okay at all.

Sliding an arm under his shoulders, you gently tugged him to rest his head on your chest. Billy's fingers crawled across your stomach to grasp yours, closing them to his palm. He let out a breath, body relaxing.

Your opposite hand raked through his dark curls, lazily scatching his scalp. He let out a breath. "Baby."

"Mhm?"

"'m gettin' sleepy."

"Go to sleep," you whispered, dragging your hand up and down his head. He was holding the fingers of your other hand in the way a child would hold a bear- purely for comfort.

Billy's breathing grew soft, and you touched your lips to his forehead before closing your eyes, his weight easing you to sleep as well. As you drifted off, you began making a list of things to do later. Start dinner...put everything you'd bought away... Your dreams claimed you before you could think of anything else.

Maybe you'd expected sleep to be unsettling with everything that had happened today looming in the background. But it was peaceful, nothing but pink sunset skies dancing under your eyelids. As you woke, you hummed sleepily and wondered if Billy's presence had anything to do with it. Or maybe it was that it was still light outside.

Cracking your eyes open, you noticed his head wasn't on your chest anymore. But he was still holding your hand.

Your hand. Now your eyes were wide as you sat up, meeting him where he knelt at your side. He was combing over the skin of your palm, examining the reddened scrapes that jaggedly tore your skin.

Without looking up at you, he said, "You're hurt." It wasn't a question.

Pulling your skirt over your knees, you were about to respond when he batted your hand away, peeling back the fabric to reveal your bruising knees. Now he was looking up at you, concern striking his irises like lightning in a cornfield. "Where else?"

His voice was still gentle, but you could hear the no-nonsense of it. Giving up your ruse, you touched your side, by your hip. He pushed up the hem of your dress to see, and your thighs shyly closed, an automatic habit.

Billy bent down, examining the bruise beginning to form there. He touched it as carefully as he could, pads of his fingers landing like a butterfly on a flower. You couldn't help the wince- it was still sensitive.

He sat up at that, covering you up with your skirt again. You didn't look at him even though you knew he was. Instead you stared at the plaid fabric of the blanket, bunched up from your sleep-ridden twisting.

You knew he wanted you to meet his eyes. But you didn't dare, shame coating your being and making you wish you had something to hide under. Now he was worried and it was all your fault.

Cupping one of your cheeks, Billy murmured, "Sweetheart. Can you look at me? Hm?"

The way he said it was so tender that you did without even thinking. And when your eyes found his, two magnets drawn to each other, you instantly wanted to cry.

Maybe it was the fact that you had thought you could handle yourself. Maybe it was that somehow you hadn't stopped to realize how you felt about any of it until now. Or maybe it was his soulful eyes so keen to know what had caused you any semblance of pain. But the entire story poured from you like water from a creek, and he didn't tear his eyes from your face the entire time.

In telling, the dreadful truth hit you. You couldn't remember most of the interaction, and now he was asking questions you didn't feel like you could answer. Billy was grasping your elbows, brow knit tight. Was he following you? What did he say before he pushed you? Do you remember what he looked like?

But you didn't know if he'd traced your steps into the store. The man's words, when recalled, were nothing more than muddied sounds, his face blurry in your memory. Frustrated tears sprung to your eyes as you managed, "I don't know. I can't remember."

"Sweetheart-" Billy was pulling you in before you knew it, his lips finding your hair. "Baby...shh. You're safe now, I've gotcha."

Clinging to him, you strained your mind, combing it for something, anything to tell him. But each time you came up blank. You cursed your inability to know, upset that something that had happened to you wasn't coming up easy.

Billy's hand rested at your crown, thumb roving over your hair. He rubbed your back gently, letting you relax. You were starting to calm down when he asked in a whisper, "Did he say anything 'bout me?"

Outlaw's whore. You paused a second too long and he nodded, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Okay. Okay." Taking in a shaky breath, you shook your head, looking up at him. His hand remained where it was.

"It's okay Billy, it was fine," you tried, but he exhaled through his nose, hand at your crown sliding so his thumb was touching your jaw, other fingers still in your hair.

"No." His jaw clenched, and something sank in your stomach. "Not fine. Not fine at all." He caressed your cheek, and the silence that followed nearly made you cry all over again.

He felt guilty enough over his soul, but worse still at how it stained those around him. You tried desperately to erase it, not to give him any reason to feel ashamed of who he was or what his past had forced him to do, but it was nearly impossible to keep things from him. You couldn't shield him from the looks of disdain thrown at you when you were on his arm.

And you'd learned you certainly couldn't hide something like this.

Billy would take it like he was the one who'd hurt you, even though he would never lift a harmful finger. More guilt was foisted on him than the person who'd done it.

You reached out, holding his face between your hands. "Billy no...I'm fine, everything's fine-" your voice hitched when you saw his glossy eyes. In a strained whisper, you tried to smooth it over. "I'm fine."

He reached up for one of your palms, clasping it in his and bringing it to his mouth. A lone tear escaped your eye, falling down your cheek like a shooting star. Using the hand still holding yours, he thumbed it away. "Don't cry over me, sweetheart." A tired smile lifted his lips. "Ain't worth it."

The fire was dying down, and you shivered, unsure if it was the cold or his words. Either way, Billy drew you close to him once more, acting as though what he'd said had disappeared.

It was twisting around your heart like a vine. He was worth everything to you.

He whispered into your hair, "I wish you could see yourself the way I do, sweetheart. You'd know this ain't fine at all."

You were quiet, curling into his chest as the air became thick with irony. Repeating his own words would fall on deaf ears.

[jinjeriffic]

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 6

Part 5

Most of the time, being the son of Batman was a point of pride for Damian. Today, it was an exercise in frustration. Not only had Father deemed him too emotionally compromised to participate in the investigation of his so-called brother. Not only was he benched from patrol until Batman returned from abroad. He also had to continue attending school as if nothing had happened! He could probably teach most of the classes better than the adults! Oh, but ‘socializing with his peers’ was deemed too important to miss out on.

No wonder Damian was in a foul mood when he returned home. It had been the last school day before fall break, and a week ago he had been looking forward to the opportunity to patrol without having to worry about getting up early in the morning. Then that damned apparition had dropped the bombshell that had upended all of Damian’s carefully laid plans. Now half of the family was off chasing leads and he was stuck at home cooling his heels. It wasn’t fair!

After doing his customary check on his pets, he had changed into training gear as soon as possible and was now in the process of running through the latest combat program Father had designed. The flow of dodge-weave-counter-strike was helping him vent his frustration and clear his head. And if the training bots ended up more damaged than usual, well that just served Father right. He wasn’t some hapless child to be grounded!

Spin. Strike. Jump. Slash. He was moving on instinct, letting his training take over. A symphony of violence the background track to his churning thoughts, the questions that had been plaguing him all week.

Brother of blood. What did that mean? A full brother? A half brother? The result of some ill-advised dalliance of his Father? Unlikely. The letter had been addressed to Damian Al Ghul, not Damian Wayne. A deliberate choice of words, most likely. A child of his Mother then. He couldn’t imagine Mother would sully herself with another man’s touch. Even after everything, she still loved Father in her own twisted way. Unless Grandfather had ordered her… Stop it!

Stab. Crouch. Roll. Slice.

Never buried but already mourned. Not a lab grown creation then, to be discarded casually. Mourning meant caring. Love. Did Father know something? The haunted look that had appeared in his eyes spoke of old grief. The same grief that still plagued him when memories of Todd or Damian’s death were close to the surface. But he had never spoken of another child. Would he even bother to tell them?

Strike. Throw. Close distance. Disarm.

Lightning and ice. Defibrillation? Some horror movie style reanimation? Cryofreeze? The entity had meta abilities, could it harness lightning and ice as well? A better son, a more powerful Demon’s Heir… No!

Side-step. Kick. Twist. Leg-sweep.

Strike down the Demon’s Head. Did that mean Grandfather? Or Damian himself if the old man died first? It would be just like Grandfather to arrange for Damian to be killed and replaced by a brother. To get revenge for Damian choosing Batman’s legacy over the League’s while hurting their family in the most intimate way possible. Killed by a brother he should have loved, who should have loved him… Fool!

Damian stopped as the gong sounded to mark the end of the program. Around him, the training bots returned to their starting positions, now significantly worse for wear. A few of them were disabled to the point of uselessness.

Damian sheathed his weapons and forced his breathing to slow as he started his cool down stretches. It wouldn’t do to be careless because of some emotional episode. He was more disciplined than that.

What could Death earn anyway? Death brought nothing but nightmares and pain and torment.

Damian shivered. He didn’t like thinking about his Death.

Shoving the memories firmly aside, he returned his training weapons to their respective places before heading over to the Batcomputer. He needed a distraction. Maybe he should call up Jon and see if he had any plans for fall break. Since Damian was benched he would need something constructive to do with his time. Surely with the two of them working together they would find some kind of criminal enterprise to topple in a Kansas cornfield.

Damian compiled the search strings for any unusual activity in the area and set it to run. Now it was a waiting game to see if anything of note turned up. Leaning back, he idly kicked the console, sending his chair into a lazy spin. If nothing turned up in Kansas, maybe he would widen his search to the surrounding states. If they flew Air Superboy, distance would hardly be an issue. Hell, if Jon was busy maybe he could go visit Richard. Bludhaven was never lacking in crime, and Father wouldn’t be able to complain about a lack of appropriate supervision during patrol. With Drake and Todd having left on a ‘roadtrip’ for at least a day…

Damian stopped his spinning and frowned. Now that he thought about it, it was highly unusual for his two older brothers to have left Gotham together and in their civilian identities. Especially with the Bats already shorthanded due to Father’s absence and Robin’s benching. He had been too distracted by the upcoming school day to make the connection when his brothers had mentioned their plans at breakfast that morning. And Drake had been investigating League activity… Damian’s fingers flew across the keyboard, bypassing Drake’s security protocols with ease. If his brother had uncovered a League connection he had a right to know!

What he found among Drake’s recent search history was not what he expected. Some crackpot scientists from Illinois? That’s what had drawn his attention? Certainly, the older Robin had flagged some suspicious transactions and marked the Fentons as potential threats based on their inventions, but there were heroes closer to Amity Park that they could have foisted the investigation off on.

Damian drummed his fingers against his armrest. Something wasn’t adding up here. Pulling up everything he could find about the Fenton parents, he started looking through medical records, school records, articles… Suddenly, Damian’s heart slammed against his ribs. There, on the cover of a two year old magazine, was the face that had haunted him all week. With trembling fingers, he zoomed in on the image. It only took a few minutes to alter the hair and eye colour. It was unmistakably him. The boy who bore an uncanny resemblance to Damian himself, if slightly older and paler.

Swallowing hard, Damian scrolled through the magazine’s online archive to find the article mentioned on the title page. An almost extinct gorilla species. A chance discovery by then fourteen year old Daniel Fenton.

“Daniel,” Damian rolled the name around his mouth. A fairly common Western name. “Daniel. Danyal?” If he was Talia’s son, surely she would have used the Arabic version… no! He was jumping to conclusions!

Now having a name to go on, Damian dug deeper than Drake had bothered to. The birth certificate named a small town in Utah, but there were no records of a hospital admission. A home birth? There were no records of the Fentons having a residence in that state. No medical records of prenatal care either, though there were for the birth of the older sibling. Had the pregnancy gone unnoticed? Possible, if unlikely. There had been a vehicle registration for a motorhome during that time period though. Had the Fentons been living on the road when their son was born? Or had they acquired the child some other way? If he was an Al Ghul who would have spirited him away to the USA?

The Fentons had settled down in Amity Park about six months after Daniel’s birth, purchasing the residence they apparently used to this day. From there, his records were fairly standard and unremarkable, though there were a higher than average number of doctor’s visits for minor household accidents. Not enough to get flagged by CPS, but certainly worrying if potential mad science was involved. Daniel’s school records showed average grades, with higher scores in Maths and Science. At age fourteen however, his academic performance took a sharp dip, with an uneven performance on tests and numerous unexcused absences. His teachers noted frequent inattentiveness in class or Daniel outright falling asleep. Someone had submitted reports of bullying and suspicious bruises, but the case was dropped and never followed up on. His grades had evened out since then, but the unexcused absences persisted.

Damian knew enough about the trials and tribulations of teenage superheroics to recognize a pattern. And it certainly looked like Daniel fit the bill. If he had acquired meta abilities two years ago it probably took some time to get a handle on them and find a balance between his legal and illegal activities.

Damian steepled his fingers together. There was only so much his digital investigation could reveal. It was time for some fieldwork.

Part 7