#weave hair that matches relaxed hair

[sweetnothingtm]

part ii of biker!simon, based off of this video! ☆

at first, you think dating biker!simon is a bad idea.

your neighbors hate him, a new complaint filed every time simon rolls up to your apartment in the middle of the night and revs the engine. he said something like he doesn’t like to be kept waiting, and how he likes seeing you flustered.

but biker!simon starts showing up everywhere, casually leaning against the bike with his arms crossed in front of him. you always greet him with a smile, planting a kiss on his helmet as he reaches for your waist. he would complain about getting pulled over for the third time, and you joke that seeing you must be getting expensive for him, huh?

but he shrugs, saying something about how he’d die a happy man if he kept getting to spoil a sweet thing like you rotten.

he takes you on long drives, weaving between lanes of traffic and letting you absently talk about anything that’s on your mind. and when he tells you that he couldn’t hear a bloody thing, you roll your eyes and say something like he just wants you to sit there and look pretty for him - but he’s got a smirk plastered across his face when he says yup, that’s what good girls like you are made for.

you have a habit to play with his belt when he rides, feigning innocence when he glances back to you with dark eyes. he asks do you really wanna get there on time? and you’re biting back the smile as he pulls to the nearest exit, tugging off the helmet to give you a wicked grin. he says something along the lines about needing to make a detour, and you’re going to be late, but that’s alright, yeah?

when you ask him teach you how to ride for the first time, you’re shyly planting kisses across his balaclava with a little smile on your face. his eyes are trained on your features, sharp and focused as you whisper gently in his ear with your arms wrapped around his neck.

biker!simon would plant his hands on your waist, grabbing at the skin and groaning to himself. he’d ask do you really wanna learn how to ride? - and you’d look at him with eager eyes, playing with the ends of his hair as you hummed a yes, please.

biker!simon would pull you firmly into his lap, biting and nipping at your neck as he whispered something about how - if you really wanna learn, you should practice on me first.

pretty soon you’re starting to wait for the sound of his engine, giddy with excitement whenever he runs a hand up your thigh and gently squeezes. you tell him that he can always stay the night, isn’t it too dark out to ride? you don’t want him to get pulled over again, right?

so he starts leaving his boots at the foot of your bed. biker!simon calls you when every time he gets another ticket, grumbling over the line about how he didn’t do anything stupid, just a bit of speeding - he didn’t want you to wait, and he’ll be there real soon, so don’t get too comfortable, okay? you joke that it’s just nice to have free rides, but he’s got his head tilted back as he laughs, saying that you’re just being coy - c’mon, admit that you kinda like having him around.

he bought you a helmet that matches his own, placing it snuggly on your head before your first drive. biker!simon would knock his helmet against yours, whispering sweet praises about how you look bloody good, sweetheart. talking about the fact that you’re just so brave, huh? what a good girl you are, guiding you onto the bike as he sits behind you.

and you’re so nervous, taking glances at him from behind your shoulder as he gently instructs you what to do. he’s got a hand on your waist that squeezes when he tries to get your attention. he’s telling you that you don’t need to worry about a thing, since he’s here to keep you safe, yeah?

he’d gently turning the engine over, letting the bike hum to life as you take in a breath and relax against his touch. one tap for slow, he’d say to you, patting your thigh gently, and two taps for speed up. you can do that, right sweetheart?

he whispers into your ear the whole ride, coaxing out that nervous energy until you’re running on pure adrenaline. biker!simon says something like you’re doing so good, huh? you take it like a natural - how come you’re acting so shy?

and afterwards you’re parked on the side of the road, wrapped up in his arms as he tugs you closer and hums in satisfaction. he asks you how it was, pulling up the visor to your helmet so you see two dark eyes lit up with affection. and you shrug your shoulder, saying something about how you’re not really sure what all the fuss is about, talking about the fact that now you can do it all by yourself. at that, he laughs and says see - it wasn’t so bad, huh sweetheart? but let’s save the riding for home, yeah?

dating simon couldn’t be all that bad, right?

[rafescvntyclubgf]

"𝐌𝐫. 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧" - 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭

𝙱𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍’𝚜 𝙳𝚊𝚍!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚔𝙱𝚛𝚊𝚝!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚛𝚊𝚏𝚎𝚢𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝟸𝙺 𝚌𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

𝕽𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖇𝖞: @proxy-princess

⚠️ spoilers in the warnings ⚠️

warnings: pet names, jealous!rafe, possessive!rafe, best friend’s dad, older!rafe, ownership kink, swearing, threats, begging, praise, brief unprotected sex, rough sex, choking, teasing, edging, the reader was drinking at the bar but is not drunk, Sofia as the wife, cum play, creampie, rafe slaps the reader, brat taming

💌 𝓐𝓼𝓴: Ooooooo what about fatherfigure!Rafe, with edging because we didn't listen to him while we were out with friends

⭐️unedited⭐️

3.2K

Reader’s POV:

If looks could kill, Mr. Cameron’s gaze would do it. He insisted on Spring Break being a family affair—him, his perfect wife Sofia, and the twins. We were too old for this shit… Getting babysat at the bar in Cancun, but he wouldn’t allow it any other way.

The crowded club is a barrage of neon lights as the music beats on, hammering in your chest. The Spring Break energy was thick, palpable, feeding you, leaving you feeling like you didn’t have a care in the world. Your short dress clings to your skin, sticky with humidity, swaying with every twirl and grind of your hips. Your body’s loose; head light, buzzing from the tequila you and Elise downed at the bar earlier.

The song changes, making Elise screams with delight as they play your song, twirling around, her toffee-colored hair sticking to her dewy skin. You look over your shoulder, clocking your chaperone, staring, nursing the same whiskey he’s been sipping since you told him you were going to dance. Rafe relaxes in the both a little more, his gaze unwavering, not casual or protective as usual. Something different entirely. His gaze is intense, dark, and lingering.

You test his intentions, turning around, giving him a glance at your dress from the front: low-cut and tight. An outfit begging the wordless question from Rafe earlier in the night at dinner, ‘were you really gonna go out like that?’ His gaze condescending at the time, now you know the real reason as his hungry eyes rake up your bare legs, studying the curves of your hips, getting lost in your cleavage before matching your eyes.

“Best trip ever!” Elise screams over the music, pulling your attention back to her as she continues to dance, utterly oblivious to her dad’s focus. The crowd thickens around you, making it harder to see him. But no matter how many people stood between the two of you, you couldn't help but escape the heat of Rafe’s eyes stealing glimpses between bodies, his cerulean stare drilling into your back.

You look toward the bar, smiling as you see another set of eyes on you: a young, devilishly handsome frat boy wearing his letters on a weathered snapback. Nowhere near as hot as Mr. Cameron. He smiles back at you, leaning back into the bar, his striped button-down shirt pulled across his gym-toned chest. He yells something at his brothers, gesturing toward you on the dance floor. His smile widens as he weaves through the dense crowd with his friends, pushing closer and closer. You glance back toward Rafe, as he watches the scene before him. His ringed hand wraps tighter around his glass, knuckles white; jaw clenched as he follows the boy's guide straight to you and Elise. Rafe matches your gaze, a knowing smirk curling on your glossy lips. Well, well, well. Sofia leans in, tilting her sleepy head on his shoulder, and you swear you can see his body recoil from her touch.

You spin Elise under your finger, grinding to the beat, baiting the frat boy closer. “Hey,” he yells over your shoulder. “You’re stunning.” Your eyes lift to his, giving him your sweetest smile, just stoking the fire. The two of you start to dance, shifting closer and closer. You turn around, pressing your ass into him, guiding his hands to rest on your hips as the two of you move together, the angle of your body giving you the perfect view of your best friend’s dad.

Rafe looks like he could crawl out of his skin, every fiber of his being holding himself back from charging out on the dancefloor himself, dragging you out of the bar entirely, but he can’t do that. What the fuck are you gonna do about it, Mr. Cameron? Elise melts into her frat boy, lips locking mere seconds after meeting him, making you laugh dizzily.

“Fuck,” the boy behind you groans as you grind your ass into his clothed cock, heart racing as the liquor courses through your veins. You smile, turning your cheek into him, riding a high off Rafe watching on. You glance toward the booth, eyeing Rafe shifting uncomfortably in his seat. His muscular chest rises and falls, controlled breaths as he tries to contain his feelings around his wife. His attention hasn’t faltered; if anything, it’s gotten sharper. The man is about to risk it all and fast.

You hook your hand around the boy's neck, pulling him closer, coaching his movements. His lips press against your neck just like you were hoping. Your head falls back on his chest, fucking with Mr. Cameron completely. Rafe takes a sip of liquor, slamming the glass down, making you bite your lip to hold back a laugh. You give Rafe a wink before spinning around, wrapping your hands around the pretty boy’s neck.

”Yo,” Elise’s brother Rex reaches out for your arm. You look in his direction, and he smiles, gesturing toward the door. ”Let’s go.”

”What?” Elise gasps as she pulls away from her frat boy’s lips, looking back at her twin brother in annoyance.

“Dad says it’s time to head back to the condo. Our car is here.”

Elise groans dramatically, tossing her head back in protest. “Fuck no, Rex. Tell him ‘no’. He can’t be serious. It’s not even that late.”

“You can tell your dad we’re not ready to leave yet. I’m sure these guys will get us back to our place safe and sound. Isn’t that right?” You coo.

“That’s right,” the frat boy pulls you closer, burying himself in your neck as his hands fall down your body, resting dangerously low.

“We’re having fun,” Elise adds. “Tell dad to ‘fuck off,’” she snickers, knowing that’s the last thing that Rex will say, getting the point across nonetheless.

Rex groans in annoyance, his patience with the two of you thinning. “He’s not gonna like that.”

“Yeah?” You laugh. “Well, he doesn’t like much, so…” Rex rolls his eyes, trudging back through the crowd toward his parents as the two of you start dancing again. You gaze at Rafe, feeling his frustration from across the bar. ”Shots?” You ask.

”Shots!” Elise answers with a smile. Your crowd moves toward the bartop, pushing through the masses. You rest your hands on the rail, leaning in slightly to get the bartender's attention. The frat boy moves in behind you, resting his chest against your back, leaning close to whisper something in your ear that you didn’t quite catch, you, laughing nonetheless.

You look to the left, watching Rex deliver the news to his dad—Rafe’s nostrils flare, brows pinched in anger. He raps his signet ring against the tabletop, planning his next move. His eyes lock on yours. “Let’s go.” He forms the words.

You raise an eyebrow and smirk, rolling your eyes like a rebellious teen. “No,” you mouth back.

Rafe hangs his head, shoulders heaving with a deep sigh before he returns his eyes to you. “You know him?” The frat boy asks, picking up on the exchange that Elise was too drunk to notice, making your stomach fall. The reality of the situation sinking in for the first time.

“Not important,” you smile, resting your hands on his.

“The fuck, man?” The boy behind you spits as a large hand wraps around your arm.

“Let’s go,” Rafe clips, his tone low and commanding, barely audible over the music but firm enough to send your stomach fluttering.

“Can we help you?” The frat boy steps to Mr. Cameron, putting space between the two of you, making your heart race.

“Hey, baby,” you smile; the pet name making Rafe's eyes widen in disbelief. “I know him. He’s Elise’s dad.” You rest your hand on his chest and your head on his shoulder. “We’re not ready to leave, sir.”

“Now,” Rafe warns, his voice sharper than ever, leaving no room for argument.

“Well, Mr. Cameron. You’re not my father. So… If you’d like Elise to leave, that’s a conversation you need to have with your daughter. Not me.”

Before he can respond, Elise stumbles between the two of you, drink in hand, sloshing a little on her dad’s designer shirt. “Dad, what the hell? Just go. We’re fine. We. Are. Fine,” she slurs. “We don’t need you to babysit. Don’t you trust us?” She pouts, but Rafe doesn’t care about hurt feelings; his eyes trained on you as you assure the handsome frat boy beside you that Elise’s dad is just overprotective.

Mr. Cameron eases his tone, taking a new angle entirely, leaning into the bar to get closer to you. “It’s not safe here, princess.” Butterflies swirl in your stomach as that term of endearment falls so easily from his lips and fuck does it sound good. “M’not askin’.”

The bartender sets the shots in front of you, giving you the perfect opportunity to brush Rafe off. You can see Mr. Cameron out of the corner of your eye as you lift the clear liquor to your lips, his sharp jawline coiled as he loses complete control over the situation. You toss the shot back, eyes pinching shut as you swallow quickly. You look in Elise’s dad’s direction again, rolling your eyes as you see Sofia’s hand resting on his shoulder, Rafe’s mother’s ring glinting on her bony finger in the lights of the Mexico club. She looks up at him lovingly, her warm eyes soft, oblivious to the storm brewing.

“Rafe, let’s head back to the condo. Let the kids have their fun.” Mr. Cameron stands there unmoved, lip-twitching in a fury. “Come on,” Sofia soothes, using her calm tone to temper his overprotectiveness to no avail. “Elise and y/n will be fine. They’re adults. Remember?” She chuckles teasingly.

“Cheers?” Elise calls over to you as she passes you another drink, trying to ease the tension.

“Cheers, baby!” You squeal, turning your attention to your best friend, paying no mind to the man stewing behind you. No doubt getting dragged away by his wife as you tip back another.

“Fuckin’ finally,” Elise laughs as she looks toward the exit, giving you an excuse to look as well. Rafe final gaze is your last warning. This is far from over.

The condo is quiet, the only sound from the open window as the ocean roars below. You look down at your phone, seeing your best friend's message letting you know she was safe with her new friend, forming a plan to sneak back into your place before sunrise.

You lay under the covers, heart beating a little quicker than usual, knowing what would happen any moment. You snuggle under the crisp cotton sheets, hiding away your surprise for him. Your outfit wasn’t practical, and it wasn’t meant for sleep. Your outfit was for one person and one purpose. The salty breeze slips through the room, rustling the light white curtains. You look up at the ceiling, smiling to yourself. Whatever came next, it wasn’t going to be on your terms.

CREAK.

Footsteps—soft and deliberate, the sound moves closer and closer. You try your best to snuff out the smile playing on your lips. The sound of Rafe’s measured strides grows louder and closer; your quickened heartbeat is now racing. The door to your room cracks slightly before opening. You let out a little yawn, rolling your head to the side, meeting his darkened eyes. Rafe’s big body filling the doorway.

You flutter your lashes, playing innocent instead of defiant. “Mr. Cameron?” You ask sweetly as you prop your body up enough to have the sheet slip off your lace-clad breasts. Rafe’s hand clamps over his mouth, rubbing away something. Maybe it's a smile seeing you this way, but either way, he’s shocked. “What’s wrong?”

Rafe steps through the doorway, shutting and locking the door behind him. He doesn’t answer, holding together his last shred of composure as he takes a deep breath. “You think this is funny?” He asks, making the hair on the back of your neck stand straight.

You tilt your head slightly, lips pouted as you look up at him, bewilder and naive. “Funny? What do you mean?” You beat your lashes, your doe-eyed act in full force. “Did I do something to upset you, Mr. Cameron?”

He lets out a deep, gravelly laugh, not buying a second of this little act you were putting on. His hands cross over his broad chest, biceps straining the sleeves. He walks to the edge of the bed, looking down at you, binding his hand around the headrail, looming over you ominously, resisting the urge to put his hands on you. “You know exactly what you did,” he chides through gritted teeth. “Pushin’ me with that fuckin’ dress. Dancing with that boy at the club. Taunting me all night long.”

“You didn’t like my dress?” You ask dumbly.

“You’re not dense,” he snaps. “Stop actin’ like it. Shit doesn’t suit you.” Rafe leans in, his forearm flexing as he twists his hand around the metal, his other tracing up the bed, moving closer and closer. “N’you’re still doin’ it,” he mumbles needily as his rough finger dusts over the lace cup over your lingerie, making your nipple harden under his touch.

Your fingers clutch the sheet, pulling it back with your eyes locked on his. His gaze tears away from yours, breath hitching before he can even stop it. The hunger in his eyes is undeniable now; his control over the situation fraying by the moment. His nose scrunches, lips tightening into two straight lines, all but losing that war he was fighting before.

“What the fuck are you doing? Huh?” He hisses.

Your hands fall down your body, guiding his gaze to follow the leader, looping around the lace bands at your hips before tugging them over your thighs. “What do you mean, Mr. Cameron?” You whisper. “M’just getting comfortable.”

“Stop fucking with me,” he warns, his voice cracking with rage and lust as the line between the two blurs. The corners of your lips curl upwards as you widen your thighs on the mattress.

“Too bad you can’t do anything about it. Huh-” Your words sputter out as Rafe’s hand wraps swiftly around your throat, pinning you to your pillows.

“You don’t fuckin’ listen,” he growls, making goosebumps prickle across your skin.

“What are you going to do about it, Rafe?” You choke. His eyes burn into yours, control hanging by a thread. His hold around your neck gets tighter, making your pulse pump in your ears. “Harder, Daddy.”

His eyes roll back and flutter shut, the older man letting out his frustration fast. His hand strikes your cheek, sending your head snapping to the side. You let out a little giggle, as a fraction of the tension releases with the pain. Before you can fully process the moment, he grabs your face in his big hand, pinching your cheeks, forcing your eyes on him. He’s so strong you do all you can, unable to fight his hold, closing your eyes tight.

“Open your fuckin’ eyes,” he shouts. Rafe pushes out a breath in frustration with his outburst. “You don’t get to look away.” Mr. Cameron presses his big thumb between your lips, hooking and pinching harshly, holding down your tongue. You open your eyes to him, making him loosen his hold. You swirl your tongue around his big digit, wrapping your plump lips around him before sucking on his thumb. “You’re a bad girl, testing me like this,” he continues, his tone low and anguished as he observes you.

Without warning, he leans down, lips crashing into yours. The kiss is fierce, demanding, tension-shattering, and full of intent. Rafe’s hands wrap around your body, pulling you closer, kissing you deeper, claiming you as he’s wanted to do all night. He mounts the bed, crushing you under the weight of his big body.

Rafe pulls back slightly, leaving you chasing his lips for more, his heavy, ragged breathing competing with yours. "You're fucking mine," he grunts. “My fuckin’ brat. You needed me to break you. Huh? We’re not doin’ this shit every time. Understand?”

”I understand,” you whisper breathlessly, your voice laced with want. Rafe’s lips contort into a twisted smile as you finally submit to his demands.

“Atta girl,” he drawls as he reaches down, pulling at his pajama bottoms, releasing his long, thick length. “M’gonna make you beg for it,” he mumbles as you whine—his fat tip gliding through your drenched slit, swirling over your throbbing clit.

“You want me, Mr. Cameron. Why not just fuck me,” you plead as you wrap your fingers around his cock, making him hiss out a breath. He grabs your wrist, pulling it off him, forcing you to wrap your fingers around the brass bed rails above you.

"Because I'm not done with you yet," he taunts. “Fuckin’ tease. M’gonna tease you. That’ll show you,” he sneers. “Move your hands and see what the fuck happens.”

You look between your thighs, chest heaving as he starts to thrust through your messy folds, rubbing your clit with every movement. You can hear your cunt squelching as he uses your pussy like a toy, prodding and poking at your entrance, denying you the pleasure of filling you full.

Your thighs start to tremble, a heat building in your belly as you feel yourself about to come undone. You look up at Rafe, the fire burning in his eyes brighter than ever as you tuck your quivering lip between your teeth, holding back your cries of pleasure.

”M’gonna cum,” you snivel as tears gather on your waterline. Rafe looks at you, poking out his lip in that same pout you gave him before.

“Shouldn’t have said that, princess.” Rafe rises on his knees, robbing you of your orgasm, stroking his thick dick, spurting ropes of cum on your aching cunt. You shudder as his sticky load rolls down your slick; sensitivity heightening, making you whimper out a breath at the feeling. Your eyes flutter shut, frustration taking over your being.

“Mr. Cameron,” you breathe, leveling your voice as he pants above you, a smirk painted on his pretty pink lips.

“Baby girl?”

His eyes fall to yours, waiting for what you have to say. “If you don’t give me what I want. I’ll tell your wife. I’ll scream right now. Make sure she knows what a deceitful, whore of a husband she has.”

The threat hangs heavy in the air as Rafe stares down at you, the look in your eyes letting him know you’re not bluffing and he’s hoping you aren’t. “You’re a brat,” he whispers as his hand traces up your body torturously slow. “You really think you can control me. Huh?” You look up at him, nodding as his hand clamps over your mouth, making your eyes widen. “You’re probably right.” Rafe slams his thick cock into your perfect pussy, making you scream against his wide palm, eyes rolling back with his.

[captain-hawks]

“i didn’t come over for sex,” oliver exhales in between kisses, cupping your face in both hands as you climb into his lap.

you laugh quietly, because it’s almost two in the morning. and his team just lost a crucial match.

—and this is oliver, for fuck’s sake.

“cute,” you tell him, dragging a hand through his dark hair to push it back from his face. “is that the line you use on girls who don’t know any better yet?”

brows furrowed, something that you’d swear might be hurt—if he were anyone else—flashes in his eyes.

“there hasn’t been…” he trails off, looking away from you for a moment as he breathes in through his nose.

you blink at him, heart doing something funny in your chest as you realize something’s off.

“oliver?”

his eyes slide back to yours, and your ribcage trembles.

“can we just—“ oliver cuts himself off, his tone uncharacteristically uncertain.

he leans in, head diverging from its familiar path to your mouth, forehead coming to rest on your shoulder instead. strong arms wrap around your torso in a way that feels far more intimate than it has any right to.

in turn, you slide a hand up his back, fingers spreading at the nape of his neck to weave into his soft hair.

you feel him relax against you.

[profound-imagination]

In The Shadow Of You - Azriel Shadowsinger

A/N: Girlypops I fear I’ve cooked with this one, apparently I can write now?? Longest fic to date!

T/W: Angst with a happy ending.

W/C: 11.7k

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“What…what are you doing here?” Eight-year-old Azriel stuttered at his two older brothers. His voice trembled, caught between fear and confusion. Their smiles were cruel, sharp like knives meant to cut.

The younger of the two moved faster than Azriel could react, and in a flash, he found himself pinned to the dirty ground of his cell, his small hands forced outstretched.

The eldest loomed over him, grinning with twisted satisfaction. “We’re conducting an experiment, little brother,” he said, his tone mockingly sweet. “And you’re going to help us.”

Azriel barely had time to process his words before it happened. Fire. Blinding, searing pain erupted across his palms, crawling up his arms like molten rivers. He screamed, hoarse and broken, the sound reverberating off the stone walls of his cage. He screamed until his voice gave out, until the smoke settled, and the flames were doused.

“It’s too late for your hands,” the healers told him afterward, almost casually, as if they hadn’t just destroyed something vital and irreparable. The gauze wrapped around his hands felt suffocating, an unbearable weight, and the agony robbed him of any reprieve. They left him there—crying, trembling, and utterly alone.

The pain kept him awake, tossing and turning on the filthy floor. Every shift in position was a new jolt of agony, every heartbeat a reminder of what he’d lost. He was trying not to sob when a voice broke through the dark.

“If you keep focusing on the pain, it’ll never go away.”

Azriel froze, stiffening like a cornered animal. The voice was soft, melodic even, but it didn’t belong. He shoved himself back against the cold wall of his cell, making himself as small as possible.

“Relax,” the voice said gently. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

It was then that he saw her—a girl, no older than him, standing just beyond the dim glow of the torchlight. Shadows clung to her like a second skin, weaving in and out of her form as if they were alive. They shaped her dress, her hair, her very presence.

“How did you get in here?” he asked, his voice a broken rasp. Why that had been his first question, he didn’t know.

She grinned, a mischievous tilt of her lips that didn’t match the bleakness of his surroundings. “I can get into anywhere I want,” she said simply, crossing her arms over her chest. The shadows rippled with the movement, and Azriel couldn’t look away.

“Do you like them?” she asked, beaming as she spun in place. Her shadows flared around her like an elaborate display.

He nodded dumbly. “Are they…shadows?”

“Yes, they are!” she said brightly. Then, her expression softened as she looked him over. “How’d you end up in here?”

Azriel recoiled at the question, his fragile defenses snapping into place. “None of your business,” he bit out. “Look, I don’t know who you are or how you got in here, but you need to leave before you get in trouble.”

She laughed—a clear, chiming sound that felt wrong in the darkness. “I guess you don’t want the gift I brought you, then.”

He blinked, taken aback. No one had ever given him a gift before.

“…What is it?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Her grin widened. The cell darkened further, the air growing heavy with the press of shadow. A wind swept through the hall, howling like a warning. When the darkness cleared, Azriel could see her more clearly, her form sharper as some of her shadows seemed to have dispersed.

“Learn to use them well,” she said, her voice low and solemn now. “Become a Shadowsinger. I’ve given you the tools—you need to do the rest.”

Azriel’s heart pounded as the shadows around him seemed to come alive, whispering to him in a language he couldn’t yet understand.

“Wait!” he called out, scrambling to his knees. “What’s your name?”

She hesitated, her grin softening into something more sincere. “Y/N,” she said at last.

He nodded, clutching the name like a lifeline. “Mine’s Azriel.”

“I know,” she said softly. And then, as quickly as she’d appeared, the shadows consumed her, and she was gone.

When Azriel was eleven, he was dumped unceremoniously at Windhaven, an Illyrian war camp. He was already far behind the other boys, who could fly and wield weapons with ease. Meanwhile, Azriel could barely lift a blade.

His humiliation was swift and brutal. A boy much larger than him—Cassian, he later learned—knocked him to the ground with a single punch. Another boy, Rhysand, watched from a distance, laughing. Azriel hated them both instantly.

He lay sprawled in the snow, blood dripping from his lip, when he heard her voice again.

“Well, I think that went well,” Y/N said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Shut up,” he hissed, lifting his head to glare at her.

She circled him slowly, her shadows twisting around her. “You know,” she drawled, “if you worked harder with your shadows, they’d have warned you those jerks were coming.”

Azriel scowled, brushing the snow off his face. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see how you’re getting on.” She crouched in front of him, tilting her head as she studied him. “Apparently not well.”

He sat up, glaring at her. “I don’t know what you expect me to do.”

“Figure it out,” she said with a shrug. “You’re a Shadowsinger.”

“What does that even mean? What even is a Shadowsinger?” he demanded, his frustration boiling over.

Her gaze softened slightly. “You are,” she said simply. “You’ll figure it out.”

Branches snapped behind him, and Y/N’s expression shifted. “You need to befriend them,” she said, nodding toward the approaching boys. “And I need to go.”

Before he could stop her, she was gone.

Azriel’s bond with Y/N grew in fragments, scattered moments where she appeared unannounced, always leaving just as abruptly. She was a ghost in his life, a shadow that flitted in and out, giving him cryptic advice and disappearing before he could ask the questions that burned in his chest.

By the time Azriel turned fifteen, her absence felt heavier. She hadn’t visited in over a year, and he began to wonder if she’d ever been real at all. Perhaps she’d been a figment of his imagination, conjured by a desperate, broken child who needed someone—anyone—to pull him from the darkness.

But the shadows she’d gifted him were real. They whispered to him, wrapped around him protectively when he faltered. They showed him things he couldn’t see on his own. And yet, every time he reached for them fully, they pulled back, as if waiting for him to prove himself worthy.

Azriel sat alone on the outskirts of Windhaven, his wings aching from a day of relentless training. Cassian had beaten him—again—and Rhysand had laughed, though there was no malice in it anymore. They weren’t enemies anymore, not really, but Azriel couldn’t bring himself to call them friends, either.

He stared at his hands, the scars crisscrossing his palms a constant reminder of what he’d lost. The moonlight caught on the edges of his bandaged knuckles, and for the first time in a long while, he let himself cry.

“That’s a new look for you.”

The voice cut through the night like a blade, and Azriel’s head snapped up.

There she was, leaning against a nearby tree, her arms crossed and her head tilted in mock amusement. The shadows danced around her, as lively as ever, and he swore they seemed happy to see him.

He scrubbed at his face quickly, heat rising to his cheeks. “You’re back,” he said, his voice rough.

“I never left,” she said, shrugging as if it were obvious. “You just stopped looking for me.”

He bristled, the sting of her words sharper than he expected. “I didn’t stop looking,” he muttered, standing to face her fully.

“Didn’t you?” she teased, though her eyes softened. “You’ve been busy. Learning to fly, getting your ass handed to you in sparring. Very entertaining, by the way.”

Azriel clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. “Why do you do that?” he snapped.

Her brows lifted, her grin faltering. “Do what?”

“Disappear. Act like none of this matters to you. Like I don’t matter.”

The words were out before he could stop them, and the silence that followed was suffocating.

Y/N blinked, her expression unreadable. “Azriel,” she said carefully, stepping closer, “I—”

“No,” he cut her off, his shadows flaring around him, mirroring his frustration. “I’ve waited for you. For years. And you show up whenever it suits you, like I’m just some…some project to you!”

Her gaze flickered, and for a moment, he thought he saw guilt in her eyes. But it was gone just as quickly.

“I’m not your project,” he continued, his voice shaking. “I’m not…I’m not some broken thing you can fix and forget about.”

Y/N’s lips parted, but she didn’t speak. Instead, her shadows curled around her, dimming the space between them.

“I gave you the tools to survive,” she said finally, her voice quiet but firm. “I never promised anything else.”

Azriel felt the air leave his lungs, his chest tightening painfully. “Why?” he asked, barely more than a whisper. “Why did you save me? Why do you keep coming back?”

She hesitated, her shadows stilling around her. Then, with a sad smile, she said, “Because you remind me of someone I couldn’t save.”

It felt like a punch to the gut. Azriel stared at her, his throat dry, his heart hammering in his chest.

“So that’s all I am?” he choked out. “A replacement?”

She didn’t answer. She only stepped back, the shadows consuming her once more. “You’re stronger than you think, Azriel,” she said, her voice echoing as she vanished. “You don’t need me.”

But he did. He needed her more than anything, and as the silence settled around him, Azriel sank to his knees, his shadows curling around him like a shroud.

The years passed, and Azriel grew into his role as the Illyrian spymaster. The shadows became an extension of him, whispering secrets, cloaking him in anonymity, making him deadly. But with every mission, every battle, he found himself waiting for her. Searching.

Sometimes, she came.

She appeared the night before his first battle in the war. Azriel sat alone by the fire, his hands wrapped around a steaming mug, his shadows restless in the dark. He could feel the weight of the coming fight pressing on his chest, the fear he couldn’t voice clawing at his throat.

“Pensive as always,” came that familiar, teasing voice.

He nearly dropped his mug, whipping around to see her leaning against a tree. She hadn’t changed—she never did. The same sharp grin, the same restless shadows, but as she stepped closer, Azriel noticed something: she was now the same age as him. The years had caught up to her, and she looked as real and tangible as anyone else.

She met his gaze, and for the first time, Azriel found himself at a loss for words. She wasn’t just the mysterious, untouchable figure who had first appeared in his cell; she was a woman now, with fire in her eyes and a strength that matched his own.

“You’re late,” he muttered, though the relief in his voice betrayed him.

“Am I?” She crossed her arms, her smile faltering as she stepped closer. “You’ve grown,” she said, her tone softer now. Her gaze lingered on the hard lines of his face, the broadness of his shoulders.

Azriel couldn’t help but stare at her, his heart racing for reasons he couldn’t understand. He had always seen her as this untouchable being—someone apart from the world. But now, looking at her, something shifted in him. She was beautiful.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered before he could stop himself.

Her eyes widened for a split second, and for the briefest moment, Azriel saw her guard drop. Then she tilted her head, a small, knowing smile curving her lips.

“Finally noticing, huh?” she teased, her voice light but there was something deeper in her eyes. “Took you long enough.”

He cleared his throat, embarrassed by his admission. “Why are you here?”

“To remind you,” she said, crouching in front of him. Her shadows curled around her like a shield, as if they could protect her from the truth in her own words. “That you can’t protect everyone. That sometimes, no matter how hard you try, people die.”

The words hit him like a blow, and he flinched. “What kind of encouragement is that?”

“It’s the truth,” she said simply, standing again. “And it’s something you’ll need to learn if you’re going to survive this war.”

He stared at her, anger and hurt warring in his chest. “Is that why you gave me these shadows? To prepare me for failure?”

Her gaze softened, but she didn’t answer. Instead, she stepped closer, pressing a hand to his shoulder. “Live through tomorrow, Azriel. That’s all you have to do.”

And just like that, she was gone.

Y/N didn’t visit when he met Morrigan, but Azriel thought of her often. As he fell for Mor, captivated by her fire and fearlessness, a part of him wondered what Y/N would think of her. Would she approve? Would she mock him for falling for someone so unattainable?

The next time Y/N appeared, it was years later, after Mor had made it clear that her heart would never belong to him.

“She doesn’t deserve your devotion, you know,” Y/N said, materializing beside him one night as he sharpened Truth-Teller.

Azriel didn’t flinch this time, didn’t even look at her. “You don’t know her.”

“I know you,” she replied, tilting her head. “And I know she doesn’t see you the way you want her to. She never will.”

He slammed the blade down, his shadows flaring. “Why do you care? You disappear for years and show up just to remind me of everything I can’t have?”

Her smile faltered, her shadows stilling around her. “I care because I’ve seen this before,” she said quietly. “I’ve watched someone pour their heart into a dream that was never theirs to hold. It doesn’t end well.”

Azriel swallowed hard, her words cutting too close. “And what about you?” he asked. “What’s your excuse for running every time I need you?”

Her shadows tightened around her like armor, and she took a step back. “You’ve never needed me, Azriel,” she said, her voice cool. “You’ve always been stronger than you think.”

And then she was gone again, leaving him with nothing but his shadows and the ache in his chest.

By the time the second war began, Azriel’s heart was no longer tangled in Mor. Instead, it was pulled toward Elain—gentle, golden Elain, who looked at him with something close to understanding. She had never spoken of love, never promised him anything, but her presence calmed something in him. He found solace in her gentleness.

But Y/N’s presence still lingered, a phantom in his mind. She visited less frequently now, each appearance more fleeting than the last. Still, he thought of her as he prepared for war, wondering if she’d show herself one last time.

She did.

It was after the final battle, when Azriel had been struck down and left bleeding in the mud. He drifted in and out of consciousness, his thoughts consumed by Elain’s face. He imagined her by his side, her soft hands tending to his wounds.

When he finally opened his eyes, it wasn’t Elain sitting beside him.

It was Y/N.

Her hands trembled as they pressed against his wound, her shadows swirling erratically around her. Her face was pale, her eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“You’re awake,” she breathed, her voice cracking.

Azriel blinked, disoriented. “Y/N…?”

Her lip trembled, and she looked away, focusing on his bandages. “You almost died,” she said, her tone raw. “You stupid, reckless fool.”

He tried to sit up, but she pushed him back down, her hands firm against his chest. “Stay still,” she snapped, though her voice shook.

“Why are you here?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

She froze, her gaze locking onto his. For the first time, he saw the cracks in her armor—the grief and pain she’d always hidden.

“Because I’ve been here before,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “With someone I couldn’t save. I couldn’t… I couldn’t watch it happen again.”

Azriel’s heart stopped. “Who?” he asked softly.

Her shadows curled around her protectively, and she shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

But it did matter. Because in that moment, Azriel realized that Y/N’s walls weren’t built to keep him out—they were built to keep her pain in.

“Y/N…” he started, his chest tightening. “What happened?”

She swallowed hard, refusing to meet his gaze. Her hand shook as it pressed against his wound. “It’s not you, Azriel. It’s me. I can’t lose anyone else.” Her voice cracked with the weight of unsaid words.

Azriel’s breath faltered as he reached up, gripping her wrist weakly. “You’re not losing me,” he whispered, trying to ease her trembling hand. His eyes searched hers, desperate to understand.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she murmured, her voice raw, but there was a flicker of something between them—something unspoken, something more than just the shadows between them.

He winced as pain lanced through him, but his focus never left her. “You’re afraid. I can see it, Y/N. What happened to you? What are you hiding from me?”

Her eyes flashed, and she jerked her hand away from him, stepping back as if she couldn’t bear to be near him. “I’m not hiding anything,” she snapped, but there was a tremor in her voice. “I’m trying to save you, Azriel. Just let me do this.”

He watched her, struggling to sit up once more, despite the pain gnawing at him. “I’ve never seen you like this,” he said, his voice soft, his gaze unwavering. “I’ve never seen you unsure. Never seen you afraid.”

She flinched at his words, but she didn’t look away. For the first time in all the years he’d known her, Y/N seemed human—fragile, vulnerable, as if she was teetering on the edge of something too painful to face.

“I’ve always been sure of one thing,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “That I couldn’t let you die like this. But maybe… maybe I was wrong. Maybe it’s just a matter of time.”

Azriel’s breath caught in his chest. “Don’t say that.”

But her eyes were distant, haunted, as if she had already seen the future he feared most. She took a shaky breath, forcing a smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Rest now, Azriel. I’ll be here when you wake.”

And despite the warmth of her touch, despite the care she showed him, he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was already slipping away from him. That, no matter what, she would always be just beyond his reach.

The night was quiet—too quiet for Azriel’s liking. He had been staring at the ceiling for hours, unable to sleep, despite the comfort of the warm bed and the endless fussing from his family. Elain had been by his side all day, her delicate hands tending to him with concern, constantly checking his wounds and offering comfort, but it didn’t ease the ache in his chest.

The ache wasn’t from the physical pain, but from the lingering thoughts of Y/N—the girl who had been with him through so much, only to retreat into the shadows yet again. He hadn’t seen her since that night at the war camp, when she had pulled him back from the edge. His shadows were restless, whispering to him, and he felt an odd sense of longing for her presence.

As if summoned by his thoughts, he heard the faintest rustle in the air—the whisper of shadows—and then, the unmistakable warmth of her presence. He stiffened, his breath catching, his heart skipping a beat as the room seemed to shift around him.

And then, there she was—Y/N.

She stepped into the room so quietly that Azriel wasn’t sure if he was imagining it at first. But no, he could feel her—sense her—just as he always had, only there was something different. She didn’t look the same as she had before.

Her once abundant shadows, swirling around her with their usual energy, now seemed… muted. Faint. Almost like they were retreating into her skin, leaving her exposed in a way Azriel had never seen. Her usual wraith-like appearance, so fluid and untouchable, had softened. The shadows didn’t cling to her the same way. Instead, they hovered at a distance, as though afraid to touch her.

He noticed it immediately. It was subtle—almost too subtle for anyone else to catch—but to Azriel, who had always seen the world through the lens of shadows, it was glaring.

“Y/N…” he whispered, his voice catching in his throat as he studied her, trying to make sense of the change. His shadows hummed softly, picking up on the strange shift in the air around them. “What happened to your shadows?”

Y/N paused, the faintest hint of a wince passing over her features. She didn’t answer him right away, her gaze flickering down to the floor as if she was gathering her thoughts.

“It’s nothing,” she said, her voice tight. “I’m fine.”

Azriel frowned, unwilling to let it go. He was too perceptive, too attuned to the ebb and flow of shadows to ignore it. “You’re not fine,” he said, his voice firm despite the exhaustion weighing on him. “There’s less of them.”

Her eyes flickered with something that was either guilt or sorrow—it was hard to tell, but whatever it was, it made Azriel’s stomach twist.

She took a slow breath and approached the bed, her presence now as heavy as the shadows she had once carried so effortlessly. There was a shift in her energy, and the deeper he looked, the more he noticed. The scars on her skin were faint, almost imperceptible in the dim light, but they were there. They marred her otherwise flawless complexion, a delicate tracery of lines that seemed to be almost a part of her now—woven into the fabric of who she was.

Azriel’s breath caught. “What are those?” he whispered, his hand instinctively reaching out toward her arm.

Y/N flinched, though she didn’t pull away. She held his gaze for a long moment before she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “They’re nothing, Azriel. Just… remnants.”

“Remnants?” he echoed, his brow furrowing. “What happened to you?”

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she placed her hand gently on his chest, feeling for his heartbeat with a tenderness that sent a pang of something deep into his soul. She was always so careful, so careful of him, yet never letting him in. Not fully.

“I needed to hear it, Azriel,” she said, her voice soft, almost apologetic. “To know it’s still there.”

Her head rested gently against his chest again, her ear pressed to the steady beat of his heart. Azriel’s hand hesitated in the air between them, but then he settled it on her head, his fingers brushing her hair with a quiet tenderness.

“You don’t need to worry,” he murmured, though his voice wavered with the weight of his own concern. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Y/N didn’t respond, though she squeezed her eyes shut as if trying to hold back something. A tear, maybe, or something much heavier. She stayed there for a moment, listening to his heartbeat, as though it was the only thing in the world that could ground her.

Azriel’s eyes flickered toward the shadows around her once more. Now that he was closer, he could see it more clearly. They were less vibrant, more faded than before. He could feel the absence of something that had always been there. But it wasn’t just her shadows—it was her.

“Y/N…” His voice trembled with realization, and his hand reached out, his fingers brushing the faint scars on her arm. “You gave them to me, didn’t you?”

Her eyes shot open, wide and panicked for a fraction of a second before she regained control of herself. She pulled away from him quickly, as if to hide the truth that was written all over her.

But it was too late. Azriel had already seen the way the scars tracked down her skin, the way her shadows had diminished as though they were tethered to him. Her heart was in her shadows. She had given him pieces of herself.

She didn’t look at him, her gaze fixed on the floor as if she couldn’t bear to meet his eyes.

“How long?” he asked, his voice barely more than a breath. “How long have you been giving them to me?”

Y/N hesitated, and then, her voice low and filled with an unspeakable sadness, she answered. “Since the beginning. From the moment I gave you the gift of shadows. I knew you needed it to survive.”

Azriel’s breath caught in his chest. “But why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you say something?”

Her lips trembled, and she took a step back, crossing her arms around herself as if the distance would protect her from his words. “Because I knew you wouldn’t let me do it. I didn’t want you to feel obligated to me, Azriel. I couldn’t risk you thinking you owed me something. I gave you the shadows because it was the only way to save you.”

Azriel’s heart shattered. “You’ve been giving me everything,” he whispered, his voice raw. “And I never even knew.”

Y/N didn’t look at him. Instead, she stared down at her hands, clenching them into fists as if trying to hold herself together. “It wasn’t for you to know. You just needed to live.”

Azriel reached for her then, his hands trembling as he pulled her closer. “I’m alive because of you, Y/N. I’m here because of you.”

She didn’t pull away. She let him hold her, and this time, Azriel couldn’t ignore the hollow feeling that gnawed at him—the knowledge that she had been silently, desperately giving parts of herself to keep him alive, even at the cost of her own well-being.

“You’ve given me more than enough,” he whispered against her hair. “I’ll spend my life making sure you don’t regret it.”

Azriel’s heart was still pounding, but it wasn’t from pain anymore. It was from the realization of everything Y/N had given him, everything she had silently sacrificed in the shadows to keep him alive. The weight of her unspoken devotion hung heavy between them, filling the quiet room with an intensity that neither of them could ignore.

They lay there for a long time, his chest rising and falling with slow, steady breaths, while Y/N remained curled beside him, her head resting on his shoulder. The shadows that had once surrounded her so densely were now distant, fading into the edges of the room. It was like the air itself had changed, as though everything in their shared silence was leading to something unspoken, something fragile that neither of them dared to break.

Azriel didn’t know how long they stayed there, but it didn’t matter. In this moment, the world outside the House of Wind didn’t exist. It was just the two of them, sharing the same breath, the same heartbeat—nothing else mattered.

His hand found hers again, their fingers barely touching, but the contact sent a shiver through him. He could feel the warmth of her skin, the soft pulse of her blood beneath the surface. He could feel how much she had given, and how much he still didn’t understand.

He lifted his head slightly to look at her, and for the first time, he saw Y/N fully. He saw her not as the mysterious girl who had given him shadows, nor as the constant presence that always seemed to be there when he needed her. But as a woman—one who had loved him from the beginning, in the quietest, most selfless way imaginable.

His fingers gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. She didn’t pull away, and instead, she looked at him with eyes full of emotions she hadn’t yet shared.

“You’ve always been there,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “Even when I didn’t see you.” His gaze dropped to her lips, and something stirred within him. The air felt charged—heavy with everything they hadn’t said, everything they’d buried deep inside themselves.

Y/N’s breath hitched, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. She seemed to hesitate, her chest rising and falling in quick succession. Azriel couldn’t tear his gaze away from her lips, couldn’t shake the feeling that this moment—the one where everything was laid bare between them—was finally leading somewhere. Somewhere they both knew they needed to go.

Slowly, cautiously, Azriel leaned in. His breath mingled with hers, their proximity so close, he could feel the heat of her skin and the pulse of her heartbeat beneath his palm. He hovered there, just a breath away, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow. The shadows in the room held their breath, waiting for whatever might come next.

But then—

Bang!

The door to the room swung open with such force that Azriel and Y/N jerked apart, the moment shattered like glass.

Azriel’s heart dropped. Y/N, sensing the intrusion, didn’t hesitate. Before Azriel could even process what had happened, the shadows around her began to ripple and twist, pulling her into the darkness. She disappeared completely, leaving no trace of her presence behind, not even a whisper of shadow.

Azriel blinked, his heart still pounding in the aftermath, but he couldn’t understand what had just happened. She was gone, like smoke on the wind, and he was left alone, with the deafening silence echoing in his ears.

Elain stood in the doorway, her face flushed with concern. “Azriel! I heard you moving—what’s—” Her eyes flicked from Azriel to the now-closed door behind her, confusion clouding her expression as she searched the room. She had clearly heard someone, or sensed something—had she noticed the faint shift in the air? Azriel wasn’t sure, but he didn’t want to risk it.

“I’m fine,” Azriel managed, his voice tight as he rubbed his face with a weary hand. His heart was still racing, but he forced himself to focus on Elain. “You can stop worrying.”

Elain stepped further into the room, her eyes softening, though a flicker of doubt still lingered in her gaze. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright, Azriel,” she said gently, crossing the room to sit beside him on the bed. Her hand settled on his arm, her touch warm and comforting, but there was a shift between them. Azriel could feel it—like a crack in the facade that neither of them was addressing.

Azriel didn’t want to acknowledge the absence of Y/N, the quiet ache that was left behind in her wake. It felt like a betrayal to even think of her now, when Elain was here, caring for him, doing everything right. But the gnawing emptiness in his chest wouldn’t go away. He had come so close to something—something he hadn’t known he wanted—and now it was gone.

“I’m fine,” Azriel repeated, this time with more force, trying to push aside the storm of emotions swirling inside him. He didn’t look at Elain, couldn’t bring himself to meet her eyes. “Really.”

She smiled, though there was a hint of uncertainty in her expression. “You don’t have to be fine, Azriel. Not with me.”

Azriel nodded, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. He wasn’t sure how long he could keep pretending that everything was as it should be—especially when his heart still ached with the memory of a woman who had vanished into the shadows, leaving only the echoes of her love behind.

As the door closed softly behind Elain, Azriel sat there in silence, his heart heavy with regret, with questions that he knew would never be answered. He didn’t dare move, didn’t dare speak, as he tried to reconcile the absence of Y/N with the present reality.

The days that followed felt like a blur, with Elain at his side, her concern and kindness a balm for his wounds, but no matter how hard he tried to focus on her, his mind kept drifting back to the shadows—back to the woman who had given him life, but who would never be his.

The days blurred into one another, each one feeling the same as the last. Y/N stood in the shadows, as she had so many times before, watching Azriel from the distance. But this time, it was different. She watched him, not just as the silent observer she had always been, but as someone who felt the sting of every quiet touch, every soft smile he exchanged with Elain.

It was impossible to ignore, impossible to escape. There they were—Azriel and Elain—two souls who were drawn together by something so much more than Y/N could ever be. It hurt in ways that she didn’t understand, but every time they passed by her, lost in each other, it felt like a dagger piercing her heart.

Over the next few months, Y/N saw it all. She saw them taking their walks down the Sidra, Azriel’s arm casually draped around Elain’s shoulders as they strolled beneath the stars. She could hear their laughter, soft and shared, mingling with the sounds of the city. Their voices were always so low, so intimate, like they had a language of their own that Y/N could never hope to understand.

She watched them walk around the Rainbow, too. Azriel would lean in close to Elain, the two of them sharing whispered words as they gazed out over the city. Y/N could see the way Elain’s face softened in Azriel’s presence, the way his eyes seemed to linger on her, like she was the only one who mattered in that moment.

And then there were the small moments—those private, quiet exchanges that felt like they were meant for no one else. They would go to the bakery together, Elain picking out pastries while Azriel stood close beside her, his hand brushing against hers as they laughed over which cakes to buy. It was all so simple, so perfect, and Y/N stood on the edges of it, never invited, never included. She could only watch, her heart twisting with each passing moment.

She wanted to leave. She wanted to retreat into the shadows and never come out. But something held her there—something that made it impossible to look away. Perhaps it was the knowledge that she had given Azriel something so profound, something so intimate, yet he was looking for something else entirely. Something that she couldn’t provide.

As the Solstice approached, Y/N felt the weight of everything that had passed between them. The tension in her chest grew with every passing day. She had seen how Azriel and Elain had grown closer. She had felt it, too—felt the quiet ache that came with the realization that no matter what she had done, no matter how much of herself she had given, it would never be enough.

Solstice night arrived, bringing with it the cold chill of winter and the warmth of the city. The streets of Velaris sparkled with light, the stars above bright as they twinkled down on the festivities. Music drifted through the air, and Y/N found herself standing at the balcony once more, watching Azriel and Elain from the shadows.

They were together, of course, as they always were now. Azriel was laughing softly at something Elain had said, his eyes sparkling as he looked at her, and Y/N felt that familiar ache in her chest again. She didn’t want to feel this way. She didn’t want to be the one to stand on the sidelines, watching their happiness from afar. But she couldn’t help herself.

They were walking toward the balcony now, the noise of the celebration fading as they grew closer. Y/N hesitated, almost wanting to step away, but something kept her rooted to the spot. The air around them was thick with something unspoken, and she could feel it—the connection, the pull that had always been there between Azriel and herself, but now tangled up with Elain.

Azriel paused just beside her, his presence so close she could feel the heat of his body. He was still laughing softly, his gaze lingering on Elain with a warmth that Y/N couldn’t deny. And then, for a moment, the world seemed to stop.

Azriel and Elain were standing so close to one another, their bodies just inches apart. Y/N could see the way their eyes met, the soft, intimate look they shared. For a heartbeat, it was like time had stopped—just the three of them, frozen in that moment. Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat, watching the slow, inevitable progression of what she had known all along.

Azriel’s gaze flickered to Elain’s lips, and Y/N’s stomach churned as she realized what was about to happen. She wanted to turn away. She wanted to leave and never look back, but she was rooted to the spot, unable to escape.

Azriel leaned in slowly, his breath catching in his throat as he moved closer to Elain. Y/N could feel the pull, the tension in the air that seemed to crackle with anticipation. It was happening—he was going to kiss her. The kiss that Y/N had known was coming, but it still tore through her, nonetheless.

Just before their lips could touch, a voice broke through the stillness. “Azriel.”

Y/N’s heart started beating again as Azriel pulled back, turning toward the interruption. Rhys stood in the doorway, his voice firm, his expression urgent. “We need you. Now.”

The moment was shattered. Azriel stepped back from Elain, his gaze flickering to Y/N for a brief second, as if he could see her —just enough for her to see the flash of uncertainty in his eyes. But then, just as quickly, it was gone. He smiled at Elain, and Y/N watched as he walked away without a word, his attention turning back to Rhys.

Elain’s smile was still there, softer now, but there was a question in her eyes as she watched Azriel leave. Y/N could see it—the small crack in the perfect picture they had built. But it didn’t matter. Because when Azriel looked back at her, it was as if he had never seen her at all.

And with that, Y/N slipped back into the shadows, her heart heavier than it had ever been. She had hoped, for just a moment, that things could be different—that maybe, just maybe, Azriel would have kissed her that night. But the world was never that kind.

The moment Azriel left with Rhys, a heavy, uncomfortable silence settled over the House of Wind. Y/N had learned, over the years, to trust her instincts, especially where Azriel was concerned. When Rhys had summoned him, his voice sharp and urgent, her stomach twisted in response. They had been discussing something—something dangerous. Koschei had made a move, and Y/N’s heart had dropped when she heard that name. The Death God.

The city of Velaris was far behind them when Azriel ventured out of the court’s protected borders, heading toward the desolate lake where Koschei was rumored to be hiding. Y/N knew this place—Kochei’s lake was an eerie, forgotten expanse of black waters, known only for its unnerving stillness. The entire area gave off an aura of decay, both from the land and the whispers of ancient power that lingered there. It was as if the very earth around the lake had been poisoned, steeped in magic of the darkest kind.

The air was thick with the oppressive weight of Koschei’s magic as Azriel stood before the lake, his eyes scanning the dark waters, his wings poised in readiness. Y/N crouched low, her shadows swirling around her, blending into the darkness as she watched him, ready to intervene if she had to.

Koschei’s presence lingered just beyond the periphery, an unseen but unmistakable force. The Death God had been waiting for the right moment, and now, Azriel had walked right into his trap.

Azriel’s eyes narrowed, sensing something amiss, but before he could make a move, the shadows around him thickened, clamping down on his limbs, immobilizing him with an invisible grip. His body stiffened, his wings twitching in resistance, but the hold was too strong.

Y/N’s heart pounded as she watched, knowing that she couldn’t allow him to fall under Koschei’s control. She couldn’t let him be taken—history would not repeat itself.

But Koschei wasn’t after Azriel.

Not yet.

With a malevolent grin, Koschei stepped from the shadows, his cold eyes gleaming as he saw Y/N standing, powerless to act as Azriel struggled against the restraints. The Death God’s form materialized fully before her, his presence like a weight on her chest.

“Ah, Y/N,” Koschei’s voice was low, teasing. “I see you’ve brought your shadows with you. They’ve always been loyal to you, haven’t they?”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She stood her ground, though her heart raced in her chest. “I won’t let you have him,” she said, her voice hoarse but firm. “You won’t touch him.”

Koschei tilted his head, amusement flashing in his eyes. “You think you can stop me? I’ve waited for so long to take what’s mine.”

Before she could react, Koschei’s magic reached out, grabbing her by the throat and dragging her forward. She struggled, but his grip was unyielding, his fingers like ice against her skin.

Azriel’s voice, strained and desperate, reached her ears as he tried to free himself, but the shadows around him only tightened.

“Y/N!” Azriel’s voice was thick with fear, his shadows flickering in agitation as he fought against the restraints. “Get out of here! Please!”

But Y/N didn’t move. She couldn’t leave him—not when he needed her. Not when she was his only hope.

Koschei chuckled darkly, his hands tightening around Y/N’s throat. “You’re quite the puzzle, aren’t you? Always playing the hero, always throwing yourself into danger for others.”

Y/N gasped for air, but her eyes never left Azriel. “You can’t have him,” she said through gritted teeth, her voice full of defiance. “I won’t allow it.”

Koschei’s smile was cruel, his grip on her throat tightening further as he moved closer. “Finally, someone you’ll fight for,” he purred, his voice dripping with malice. “How touching.”

But Y/N didn’t falter. She could feel her shadows, the last of her magic, slipping away. She had to make her move now.

With every ounce of strength she had left, she reached out, sending the last of her shadows toward Azriel, her magic flooding into him. She could feel his strength return as the shadows wrapped around him, empowering him, protecting him.

“No,” Koschei hissed, his face twisted in anger. “You can’t do this!”

But Y/N didn’t care. She had made her choice. Azriel’s safety was her only priority now.

As the last of her power left her, she whispered, almost to herself, “You can’t have him. I won’t allow it.”

The words hung in the air, thick with finality, as her vision blurred. The shadows around her began to fade, dissipating into nothingness. Her body felt weak, her breath shallow. She had given everything.

Koschei let out a furious roar as he tried to push against her will, but it was too late. Azriel’s shadows surged around him, breaking his restraints, and with a powerful snap, the Death God was forced back.

Azriel had broken free.

Her body crumpled to the ground, the shadows that had once sustained her now gone, leaving her fragile and empty. She could feel her strength slipping away, her body fading into the cold grasp of death. But she had done it. She had protected him.

Azriel’s voice reached her again, frantic and full of desperation. “Y/N! No!”

Azriel’s blood boiled. His shadows had surged, fought back, but in the end, it hadn’t been enough. Y/N was crumpled at Koschei’s feet, her body barely breathing, her shadows gone, dissipated into the nothingness that Koschei had left in his wake.

His fists clenched, fury burning through him in a white-hot blaze. No.

Not her. He couldn’t lose her.

Koschei’s laughter echoed in his ears, and he could feel the Death God’s presence press against him, his dark power threatening to swallow him whole. “You think you can stop me?” Koschei taunted, his voice filled with venom. “You’ve already lost.”

Azriel’s wings snapped forward, his talons cutting through the air. The shadows around him gathered in a vortex of rage as he fought back with everything he had. Koschei tried to push against him, his power a suffocating weight, but Azriel’s determination surged higher. He wasn’t going to lose her. Not after everything. Not when he’d come this far.

With a brutal, final strike, Azriel’s shadows wrapped around Koschei, pulling the Death God away, slamming him into the earth. The battle was violent, brutal, the world around them bending and breaking under the weight of their fury. Azriel’s injuries didn’t matter. His exhaustion didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except her.

Azriel drove his shadow blades into the ground, pinning Koschei in place, and for a moment, everything was still.

But that stillness shattered when his eyes fell on Y/N.

Her form was so fragile now, the light of her presence dimming with every breath she took. The once-vibrant shadows that had defined her, that had been a part of her essence, were now nothing more than an echo.

No.

With a final, guttural roar, Azriel turned his focus to Koschei, slamming his power down upon the Death God. Koschei screamed, vanishing in a wisp of smoke, but the damage had been done. Azriel had won, but it felt hollow. It didn’t matter. He could feel her slipping away.

As he staggered toward her, blood dripping from his wounds, his heart clenched at the sight of Y/N’s frantic, desperate eyes meeting his.

“Y/N,” he breathed, crawling to her, reaching out to touch her, to anchor himself to her, even as his body screamed in protest.

Her breath was shallow, her eyes wide with fear, but there was no power left in her. The shadows had abandoned her. She had given everything.

Her lips parted, but she couldn’t speak. She was fading. The life that had once burned so brightly in her was now flickering out, and Azriel’s heart shattered with every passing second.

“Don’t you dare leave me,” Azriel whispered, his voice cracking. The panic rose in his chest like a choking wave, suffocating him.

He reached for her, cradling her in his arms, pressing his face to her forehead. “Please, don’t die. I can’t lose you. Not like this.”

Her eyes met his, but there was no recognition, no spark of the strength she had once had. Just… emptiness.

He leaned down, his voice breaking as he whispered to the shadows in desperation.

“Go back to her. Please… I need you. Keep her alive.”

He felt them—his shadows, the ones he controlled, the ones that were so much a part of him. But they didn’t move. They lingered, cold and unyielding.

But then, as if the very act of begging for her, for the one person who had been there for him in the darkest of moments, had unlocked something within the shadows, one tiny speck of darkness flickered into existence. It crawled toward her wrist, wrapping around it like a thread of hope.

Azriel watched in a stunned silence as the small shadow pulsed, then expanded, feeding life back into her, bringing her warmth, her pulse, her breath back.

Her eyes fluttered, and then—there—a faint spark, a flicker of recognition. Her hand moved ever so slightly.

Azriel’s breath caught in his chest as he pulled her closer, his face hovering inches from hers, his lips trembling. She was alive.

Her eyes opened fully, still filled with that same raw vulnerability, the same trust that had always been there. But now, the fear had gone. She wasn’t fading anymore.

“Y/N,” Azriel whispered, his voice rough with emotion. He pulled her into his chest, pressing his forehead against hers. “Never do that again,” he muttered, his voice a mix of relief and raw anger. “Do you hear me? Never.”

Y/N’s breathing was steady now, and though she was still weak, the shadows had returned to her—if only just enough to give her life again. And Azriel could feel the change in her, in him, as the bond they shared snapped into place.

A rush of warmth flooded through him, a sharp, undeniable connection that had always been there but now was more real than ever. His heart slammed against his ribs as he realized the truth.

She was his. And now, in the aftermath of everything, the mating bond had been forged between them.

Azriel held her tighter, his grip desperate, as if he were afraid she might slip away again. But she wouldn’t.

Not now. Not ever.

Azriel’s wings beat steadily as he flew through the cool night sky, cradling Y/N in his arms. Her breath was steady now, her body still fragile but alive. Alive because of him. Alive because of the bond they had finally accepted, because of the shadows she had given him, because of the sacrifices she had made for him time and time again.

He landed softly in front of the River House, the place that had always been home. Elain was there, as if she had been waiting, her concern etched on her face when she saw Y/N in his arms.

“Azriel—what happened? Is she—” Elain started, her voice filled with worry.

Azriel shook his head, a soft growl of frustration building in his chest. “She’ll be fine. But there’s something I need to tell you.” He stepped past her, carrying Y/N toward the bedroom where he had left her resting, the weight of the conversation he needed to have with Elain sitting heavily on his shoulders.

He laid Y/N gently on the bed and tucked the blankets around her, making sure she was comfortable. She stirred slightly at the touch, but her eyes stayed closed, her body still recovering from the ordeal.

Elain stood in the doorway, watching him with a mixture of concern and confusion. Azriel turned to her, his heart aching, knowing this was the moment he needed to speak the truth.

“Azriel… what happened?” Elain’s voice was soft but insistent.

He sighed, looking down at the floor for a moment before raising his eyes to meet hers. “Elain, there’s something I need to say.” He took a breath. “You’re kind, and you’ve been wonderful to me. But…” He hesitated, his voice breaking ever so slightly. “But I don’t feel the way I thought I did for you. You’ve been a friend to me, Elain. But there’s someone else.”

Her face softened, understanding dawning. But still, there was a sadness in her eyes, a quiet resignation that Azriel couldn’t ignore.

“I… I see,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. She took a step back, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I always knew it wasn’t the same. But I’m glad you were honest with me, Azriel.”

Azriel stepped forward, his hand brushing hers in a gentle, reassuring gesture. “You’ll always be my friend, Elain. And I’ll always care about you. But… I’ve found something, someone else.” His voice hardened with emotion, a touch of bitterness slipping through. “And I owe her everything.”

Elain nodded, her lips trembling. “I understand. I just… want you to be happy, Azriel. I hope she makes you happy.”

Azriel gave her a final, grateful nod before he turned, his heart still heavy with the weight of what he’d just confessed. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her. But Y/N had always been his destiny—his heart, his shadows, his everything.

Azriel walked into the living room where Rhys, Cassian, and Feyre were gathered. He had just returned with Y/N, and his heart was still pounding from the emotions of everything that had just transpired. The weight of his words felt heavy, but it was time. Time to share everything with his family.

“There’s someone you need to meet,” Azriel said quietly, his voice filled with a mixture of anticipation and reverence.

Rhys looked up from the chair he was seated in, his brows furrowing in curiosity. “What’s going on, Az?” He stood, sensing the shift in his brother. The tension in Azriel’s posture was palpable.

Azriel nodded toward the bedroom door. “Come with me. I’ll explain everything.”

Without waiting for another word, Azriel led them down the hallway, his mind racing as he walked toward the room where Y/N had been resting. He paused before the door, taking a breath. This was it. The moment he had been dreading and longing for—revealing the truth about the woman who had always been by his side.

He opened the door gently and stepped inside, motioning for the others to follow. Y/N was lying on the bed, her body still fragile from the toll of the battle, but her breathing steady. She looked peaceful now, her form bathed in the soft light of the room.

Azriel turned to face Rhys, Cassian, and Feyre. “This is Y/N,” he began, his voice rough with emotion. “She’s… she’s the one who has been with me all along. The one who gave me everything—her shadows, her life—without question.”

Feyre stepped forward first, her eyes filled with concern as she looked at the woman resting on the bed. “What do you mean? What’s happened?”

Azriel’s chest tightened as he continued. “Y/N saved me. She saved me when I didn’t know how to save myself.” He swallowed hard. “I was a broken, lost soul when I first met her. I was drowning in the darkness, consumed by it. And she… she gave me her shadows. At first, I didn’t understand what it meant. But now, I see it. All of it. The sacrifices she’s made for me. The love she’s given, even when I didn’t deserve it.”

Cassian stepped forward, looking down at Y/N with a mixture of awe and respect. “What do you mean, she gave you her shadows? How? Why?”

Azriel’s eyes never left Y/N as he spoke. “She didn’t just give me her shadows. She became them. When she was dying, when she lost her first love, Koschei offered her a way out. A way to survive. She made a deal with him, traded her life for the power of shadows. And in return, she gave me those shadows, kept me alive when I was losing myself to the darkness.” He let out a bitter laugh. “I had no idea how much she was sacrificing for me.”

Feyre looked at Azriel, her expression filled with both admiration and sadness. “She gave you her life. She gave you the very thing that kept her alive.”

Azriel nodded. “She did. But it didn’t end there. After the first war, when I was still struggling with the weight of it all, she was there. She was always there. And when I needed her most—when I was losing myself to Koschei, to the darkness that had been trying to consume me for so long—she gave everything again. She gave me the last of her shadows.”

Cassian’s eyes widened as the weight of Azriel’s words sank in. “And now… now she’s like this?” He asked, gesturing to Y/N, still unconscious and fragile on the bed.

Azriel’s voice softened, a thread of emotion weaving through it. “Yes. She gave it all. The last of her shadows. She’s barely hanging on.”

Rhys stepped forward, his gaze never leaving Azriel’s face. “But she’s alive, Azriel. She’s here. And we’ll make sure she stays that way. She’s part of this family now, just like you.”

Azriel nodded, the emotions too much to contain. He approached the bed, brushing a stray lock of hair from Y/N’s face. “I won’t let her fade. Not after everything she’s done for me.”

Cassian stepped forward then, his voice thick with gratitude and something deeper—something unspoken. “Thank you, Y/N. For everything you’ve done—for Azriel, for all of us.”

Azriel’s heart clenched as he saw Cassian gently place a hand on Y/N’s wrist, the gesture full of reverence. It was clear that Y/N had already touched all of their hearts, even though she had never asked for anything in return.

Feyre, too, stepped forward, tears brimming in her eyes as she looked down at the woman who had given so much for her family. “I can’t even imagine the pain you must have gone through,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for saving him.”

Azriel turned to face his family. “She did what none of us could. She saved me. And I owe her everything.”

For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of Azriel’s words hanging in the air. Y/N was still asleep, but the shadows around her—slowly beginning to return—told the story of her sacrifice. And Azriel knew that he would never take that for granted again.

Finally, as the silence stretched on, Azriel leaned down to kiss Y/N’s forehead, his hand resting on her chest as if to keep her tethered to this world. He could feel the bond between them now, stronger than it had ever been, and he knew it wasn’t just the shadows that connected them. It was something deeper.

“Never again will you fight alone,” Azriel whispered softly, his voice barely audible. “You’ve given me everything. And I will spend the rest of my life making sure you never regret it.”

The warmth of sunlight filtered through the curtains, the soft scent of roses mingling with the earthy scent of the river outside. Y/N stirred, her eyelids fluttering as she slowly emerged from the fog of sleep. The weight on her chest, her heart, was lighter than before, though still heavy with everything that had happened.

She glanced down to find Azriel sitting next to her, his large form leaning back in the chair beside her bed, his gaze focused intently on her. His shadows whispered quietly, as if sensing her waking. His focus, however, was entirely on her.

“I needed to hear it,” Azriel murmured softly, his voice a quiet rasp, barely above a whisper. His hand rested lightly over her chest, just above her heart. His eyes searched her face, searching for any sign of distress. “Your heartbeat. It was the same as mine.”

Y/N blinked, her senses returning as her mind processed the words. She nodded slowly, trying to sit up but feeling the weight of exhaustion still hanging over her.

“Good to see you’re awake,” Azriel added with a small smile. “You’ve been out for three days.”

Before Y/N could respond, a loud knock at the door interrupted them, followed by the unmistakable sound of Cassian’s booming voice from the hallway. “Az, don’t think I haven’t been here for the last few days. We’re all concerned, and if you don’t let me in, I’ll come in myself.”

Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound faint but genuine. “He’s quite persistent, isn’t he?”

Azriel grinned, his shadows flickering with amusement. “He’s worse when he’s worried.”

With a flick of his hand, the door creaked open, revealing Cassian standing in the doorway, a huge grin plastered on his face as usual. “You look better, at least,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Not that you could get any worse.” His tone was playful, but there was an underlying concern in his eyes as he entered the room.

Azriel laughed quietly. “You’ve been camped outside my door this entire time, haven’t you?”

Cassian shrugged, unbothered. “Someone had to keep an eye on you both.” He glanced at Y/N, then turned and left the room, only to return minutes later with a tray laden with food—and a large slice of cake. “I figured you might need a treat. You’ve been through enough, so cake it is,” he said, setting it on the bedside table.

Y/N chuckled softly, the smell of cake tempting her despite how tired she still felt. “You really do come bearing gifts, don’t you?”

Cassian winked at her. “I’m a man of many talents. And cake is my specialty.”

Before Y/N could respond, Rhys and Feyre appeared in the doorway, both looking at her with warm smiles, though Feyre’s eyes were filled with quiet curiosity and concern. Rhys took a few steps forward, his presence calm and steady.

“You’re awake,” he said gently, his tone full of warmth. “Good. We’ve all been worried.”

Y/N smiled weakly. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

Feyre, who had been standing slightly behind Rhys, moved to the bedside, her eyes softening as she studied Y/N. “Azriel told us about everything. You’ve done so much for him.”

Y/N met her gaze, the weight of the unspoken history between them lingering in the air. “He’s my responsibility. Always has been.”

Cassian leaned against the doorframe with a grin. “You’ll learn quickly, like Feyre did. Once you’re part of Az’s world, you’re part of all of ours.”

Y/N nodded, her voice steady. “I’ve been with Rhys and Cassian for a long time. I’ve followed Cassian into battle more times than I can count. It’s where my scars came from—fighting beside him, making sure he made it out alive.”

There was a long pause as Rhys took a step closer, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed her words. “You’ve been with us… longer than we realized, then?” he asked quietly.

Y/N’s gaze softened, a faint sadness in her eyes. “I went after you, Rhys. When you were captured during the first war… I helped you. I helped free you. I did what I could.”

Rhys stared at her, his expression unreadable for a moment before it softened. “I never knew. I never realized…”

Y/N’s gaze dropped, and she hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “I’m sorry for what you went through under the mountain, Rhys. I tried to help you… as much as I could. I know it wasn’t enough, but I tried.”

Feyre’s eyes widened, and she glanced between Y/N and Rhys. “You helped him?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “How? I never knew.”

Y/N glanced back at Rhys. “You were important to Azriel. I couldn’t let you break.”

The words hung heavy in the air. Feyre, still standing near Rhys, gasped softly. “The music you sent me… it was you, wasn’t it? The same music that you sent Rhys?”

Y/N nodded quietly. “I couldn’t let Rhys break. He needed to stay strong. He couldn’t fall. Azriel needed him.”

Rhys, his gaze unreadable, looked at Y/N with newfound understanding. “You sent that music? All this time?”

Y/N simply nodded again. “I couldn’t let you lose yourself.”

There was a long, heavy silence, and Azriel could feel the weight of it as he watched Y/N open up in ways he hadn’t expected. He could sense the depth of her sacrifice, of everything she had done for him and for his family without ever expecting recognition or thanks.

Cassian’s deep voice broke the silence. “You’ve been doing all this for him… and for us?” His tone was thick with emotion now, and he stepped forward, placing a hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “You’re a hell of a lot stronger than any of us gave you credit for.”

Y/N’s lips quirked into a faint smile. “I did what I had to do.”

Azriel watched her, his heart swelling with the quiet pride he felt for her. She had given so much of herself, had fought so hard to protect them all, and yet, she never asked for anything in return. It had always been about him—about Azriel.

Feyre stepped forward, her hands shaking slightly, and before anyone could stop her, she wrapped Y/N in a tight hug. “Thank you,” Feyre whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You’ve done more than we’ll ever know. Thank you for being there—for him. For all of us.”

Y/N stiffened at first, clearly not used to such displays of affection, but after a moment, she relaxed into the embrace. “I never expected thanks,” she said softly, her voice thick with emotion as well. “But… you’re welcome.”

Azriel stood by, silent, watching the family he had once only dreamed of accepting her as one of their own. She had always been by his side, fighting, protecting. Now, she was truly part of his world, part of their world.

As Cassian, Rhys, and Feyre stood together in the room, Y/N smiled faintly, her heart full. She was finally seen. Finally home.

Cassian, Rhys, and Feyre, having shared their heartfelt thanks and goodbyes, stood in the doorway for a moment longer, watching the connection between Y/N and Azriel before they left.

“Get some rest, you two,” Rhys said gently, his eyes full of understanding. “We’ll see you both later. And if you need anything—anything at all—don’t hesitate to ask.”

Cassian gave a wide grin, his voice light as usual, though the affection in his tone was unmistakable. “Take care of each other,” he said, with a wink at Y/N. “We’ll save the cake for when you’re feeling better.”

Feyre’s gaze softened. “We’re here for you, Y/N,” she added quietly. “You’ve been through so much. Take the time you need to heal.”

With that, the three of them departed, leaving the two of them alone in the quiet of the room. Y/N’s gaze followed them for a moment before her tired eyes turned back to Azriel, who was still sitting beside her. He hadn’t said much since they’d all left, his presence quietly constant as always, but there was a softness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before—something she hadn’t allowed herself to see in the years they had known each other.

As the door clicked shut behind them, she gave him a small, but honest smile. “I’m glad they came by,” she said softly. “It’s strange, having people around again.”

Azriel’s smile was small but warm, his voice full of affection when he spoke. “They care about you. They’re grateful for everything you’ve done for us all.”

Y/N nodded, but there was a quiet sadness in her eyes. “I’ve never asked for anything from them… but they’ve all given me so much already. I don’t know if I deserve it.”

Azriel’s hand reached out to gently cup her face, his thumb brushing lightly over her cheek as he spoke softly, his voice thick with emotion. “You do deserve it. More than you know.”

There was a long, quiet pause as they shared a gaze, the weight of everything that had happened, all the shared moments, the sacrifices, and the unspoken love, pressing in on them. It was as though they had finally, after all these years, found a breath to share between them—a breath that was both long overdue and infinitely worth the wait.

Y/N swallowed, her heart racing in her chest as she looked at him, truly looked at him. “Azriel,” she whispered, her voice unsteady. “Please stay. I don’t want to be alone.”

His gaze softened, his expression tender as he nodded. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised quietly.

Without another word, Azriel slipped into the bed beside her, carefully maneuvering his body so that they were close but still mindful of her fragility. She shifted slightly, her hand reaching for his, intertwining their fingers. Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked up at him.

Azriel gazed back down at her, his lips parting as he leaned closer, their faces inches apart. He searched her eyes, as if asking for permission, as if he needed her to know how much she meant to him before he closed the space between them.

Y/N’s breath caught as she looked up at him, her chest tightening with emotion. She could feel the bond between them, the connection they had shared for so long, but now it was something more. Something she had longed for but never allowed herself to fully feel.

With a soft exhale, Azriel finally closed the distance, brushing his lips against hers in a kiss that was soft, gentle, but full of everything they had never said. It was a kiss of unspoken words, of everything they had endured, of everything they had fought for. It was a kiss that told the story of their connection, of love and loyalty, of battles fought both internal and external. And most of all, it was a kiss that told the story of their future—a future that they would face together.

When they pulled away, both of them breathless, Y/N’s eyes were wide, her heart racing as she looked at him. “I love you, Azriel,” she whispered, the words finally escaping her lips as her heart overflowed.

Azriel’s voice was low and gravelly, full of emotion as he answered, his hand brushing the hair from her face. “I love you too, Y/N. I’ve always loved you.”

And as they lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the weight of everything that had come before seemed to fall away, leaving only the quiet comfort of the present. In that moment, there was no past, no war, no shadows. There was only the two of them, together, finally allowing themselves the peace they both so desperately needed.

And as they fell asleep, tangled in one another, the world outside could wait. For once, everything was as it should be.

[extinctlesspains]

can you do a myung gi x fem reader where he finds out that the reader is in the games and he starts to protect her from the games and from other players

A/n: AHAHAHHA A REQUEST FOR MY MAN FINALLY 😫

𝐺𝑢𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑖𝑎𝑛 [𝐿. 𝑀𝑦𝑢𝑛𝑔-𝐺𝑖]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ: ʏᴇs ᴏʀ ɴᴏ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʟᴇᴇ ᴍʏᴜɴɢ-ɢɪ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ғʟᴜғғ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴍʏɪɴɢ-ɢɪ's sᴜʀᴠɪᴠᴀʟ ɪɴsᴛɪɴᴄᴛs ᴀʀᴇ ᴛᴇsᴛᴇᴅ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʜᴇ ᴅɪsᴄᴏᴠᴇʀs sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ʜᴇ ᴄᴀʀᴇs ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ— ᴘʟᴀʏᴇʀ 424. ᴅᴇᴛᴇʀᴍɪɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ, ʜᴇ ғɪɢʜᴛs ᴀɢᴀɪɴsᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴅᴅs, ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ғʀᴏᴍ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴀᴍᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʟᴀʏᴇʀs ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴅᴏ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴡɪɴ.

ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs: ᴛʏᴘɪᴄᴀʟ sǫᴜɪᴅ ɢᴀᴍᴇ.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　

The harsh fluorescent lights of the dormitory hummed overhead as you clutched your numbered jacket close. Anxiety churned in your stomach. Around you, alliances were being forged, whispers of mistrust and strategies filling the air.

That’s when you saw him—Myung-gi, Player 333. You recognized him instantly. Back in the real world, he was known for his sharp demeanor and unyielding resolve. That and how he scammed many people. But here, he looked just as tense as everyone else, sitting on the edge of his bunk with his arms crossed.

Your eyes met briefly, and recognition flickered across his face. He blinked once, twice, before his expression hardened. Myung-gi stood abruptly, weaving through the crowd toward you.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded, his voice low but laced with disbelief.

You flinched at his tone, gripping your jacket tighter. “I—I could ask you the same thing,” you stammered, avoiding his intense gaze.

His jaw tightened. “This isn’t a place for someone like you.”

“Well, I didn’t exactly have a choice,” you snapped, though your voice shook. “None of us did.”

Myung-gi sighed, running a hand through his hair. He didn't like how his crush was in this game with him. “Stick with me,” he said finally, his tone softening. “Don’t trust anyone else.”

The moment the giant doll began singing, the room erupted into chaos. Players dashed forward, only to freeze mid-stride when the doll’s head swiveled around. Shots rang out, and screams filled the air.

You stood frozen at the starting line, fear paralyzing your limbs. Myung-gi, halfway across the field, turned back and spotted you.

“Move!” he barked, his voice cutting through the noise.

Your legs wobbled as you took a tentative step forward. The doll’s head swiveled, and you stopped just in time, your heart hammering in your chest.

When the doll turned away again, Myung-gi maneuvered closer to you, his movements calculated. “Look at me,” he commanded, his voice steady. “Focus on me, not the others. Take small steps.”

You nodded shakily, following his lead. With each movement, he stayed by your side, shielding you from the chaos. When a player nearby collapsed, he reached out, gripping your arm firmly. “Don’t look. Keep going.”

When the timer finally buzzed, signaling the end of the game, you collapsed onto the ground, trembling. Myung-gi crouched beside you, his hand resting on your shoulder. “You’re safe,” he murmured. “For now.”

The racecourse was a nightmare of mini games, designed to exploit every weakness. Players hands scrambled as they played gong-gi, ddajki, and the flying stone.

You struggled to play spinning top, your hands slipping on the rough material. “I can’t do it,” you muttered, panic rising.

“Yes, you can,” Myung-gi said from your side. “Just breathe.”

You hesitated, but his stern glare left no room for argument. You matched your breathing to his , relaxing and putting yourself at ease.

“See? Not so hard,” he said, his tone gruff but not unkind.

Later, when you reached the jegi section, another player deliberately knocked you to the side to get Myung-gi moving, you cupped your stomach as you felt the player punch it. Myung-gi stepped in immediately, his glare icy. “Try that again, and you’ll regret it,” he growled.

The other player backed off, grumbling, and Myung-gi turned to you. “Don’t let them push you around,” he said. “But if they do, I’ll handle it.” he played his part and crossed the finish line, pulling you by his side.

It was only a small breather before you were put back in another game.

“Four!” the speaker announced, the robotic voice echoing across the room.

Panic set in as players began shoving and scrambling toward doors with numbered signs. You were swept into the crowd, losing sight of Myung-gi.

“Y/N!” his voice rang out, cutting through the chaos.

You turned just in time to see him pushing through the mob, his eyes locked on you. He grabbed your arm, pulling you close. “You’re with me,” he said firmly.

When two other players tried to join your group, Myung-gi stepped in front of you, his stance protective. “Sure, get in,” he said smoothly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Once inside the safety of the numbered room, you slumped against the wall, your heart racing. “You didn’t have to do that,” you murmured.

“Yes, I did,” he replied, his voice low. “You’re not surviving this alone. Not on my watch.”

Back in the dormitory, you sat on the edge of a bunk, picking at the stale bread ration. Myung-gi approached, handing you his water bottle.

“Drink,” he ordered.

You frowned but accepted it. “Why are you helping me?” you asked softly. “You barely know me, we only have the history of being classmates.”

He didn’t answer immediately, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Finally, he said, “Because if you don’t make it out of here, what’s the point?”

You blinked, surprised by the vulnerability in his voice. “Myung-gi…”

He waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t get sappy on me. Just… stay close, alright? Don’t trust anyone else. They’ll stab you in the back the first chance they get.”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Thanks. For everything.”

He scoffed, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward. “Just don’t make me regret it.”

[persicipen-archive]

𑑛 “OLIVE GARDENS” ﾉ DR. RATIO. HONKAI STAR RAIL. ANTIQUITY AU

fem reader ﾉ words 3.5k ᯽ unspecified romantic relationship. mentions of playful ancient gods lol. oral — character receiving. shamelessly doing it outside and lots of touching (grass). riding him. lotus position (?). cumming inside. protection used in ancient times — silphium (quite valid) and pomegranates (barely valid) ﾉ rewritten ᯽ ADULT CONTENT ﾉ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ᯽

as the priestess of the temple, your task is to ensure that the gods are praised with gifts. what if there is a scholar that prefers to worship you instead?

The warm breeze tickles your nose as you lie on the soft grass, pleasantly cold compared to the early noon weather. The shade of a large olive tree helps ease you into relaxation after hours spent in the blazing morning sun tending to your everyday tasks around the temple.

You feel him approach the hill long before you actually see him, like a ghost creeping up on you through the golden light shining upon your eyes through the leaves.

It’s expected of him to be here at this hour, next to you. There’s no one else to disturb you two, just lazy birds and the zephyrs dancing in the wind; little spirits weave and swing their arms around your form, ruffling his hair with fresh air, cool against the dew gathered on your forehead.

Veritas Ratio has nothing in his hands to offer, but his presence alone is enough to make the gods jealous; he’s beautiful, matching the divine statues holding the nearby temple tall and mighty on its columns. As if one of said sculptures escaped and turned human, with violet hair like the sweetest grapes and amber eyes like the finest quality copper coins.

With all that adorns him — from jewellery to elegant sandals — his skin glistens more than your own in the sun, the liquid gold of his being that he can offer instead. The sweat shines on the tips of his ears, nose, and cheeks, highlighting each crease with a perfect precision you’d swear is unnatural. Godsent.

“I welcome you again on these sacred grounds,” you whisper with a smile, glancing at him as you finally decide to take your arm from your forehead. The look you exchange makes something stir deep inside you, right between the navel and pubic bone. “Have you come back for some more wine?”

The question doesn’t catch him off guard; you can see in those pretty eyes that he anticipated it. When he doesn’t answer immediately, however, your sight trails down to the lush curve of his lips.

“Indubitably, the wine would be pleasant,” he mutters thoughtfully, already pulling closer. The jangling of metal pieces connecting to his ankles rings along with the crunchy sound of dry grass under his feet. “But I’m sure the gods already have more than enough wine to indulge themselves throughout the entire afternoon.”

“Perhaps. What are you here for, then?”

It’s fun to tease him; it always ends with you having a great time playing around with the words. This also isn’t an exception when he answers with another question.

“And you? Shouldn’t you be waiting in the temple instead of dozing off in the gardens, waiting for some stranger to stir a conversation?”

A weak exhale of laughter leaves your chest at that, prompting him to tilt his head inquisitively. “That depends if the stranger is you or someone else.”

You raise a hand, allowing him to close the last gap between you and bring it to his face to kiss your knuckles softly.

“If it’s you, maybe I wanted to see you sooner,” you add, stretching your neck upwards slightly in search of more touch.

It comes quickly as a brief peck on the lips, chaste and careful — just a greeting as well as a promise of what’s coming. The peachy colour of his cheeks only emphasises his sharp features further when he leans back, though you doubt anyone could ever forget how gorgeous this man is. One of the wonders of the world, with or without the blush.

His clothes slide from his shoulders effortlessly, the flowing linen clinging to the curves of his muscles like second skin as he exposes himself to the world. That beautiful hair spreads messily on the ground once he lies down next to you and pats his chest with one arm.

It takes neither hesitation nor further words for you to lay your head in his open embrace, pillowed by his heart beating steadily right under your ear. A pair of strong arms embraces your shoulder soon after, but most importantly, a new shade joins your rest beneath the tree.

Even without having to look at the sky, you know the clouds gathered to dim the sun. The rustling of olive branches in the wind almost completely replaces the sounds of cicadas, gales soaring high in the sky to travel above the hill.

In such peace, the silence feels warm and welcome — as much as his skin brushing against yours does. You sigh deeply when his lips press down onto the top of your head, his breath tickling the roots of your hair, gentle fingers threading through it.

The tone of his humming is content. His hands exploring your back, petting and stroking each little bump of your spine, are the reasons for which you squirm lightly from time to time.

Would be nice to continue and deepen the pleasure, but just resting like that was lovely on its own. Sometimes you simply cannot decide — the kindness of the day enveloping you both is quite compelling too, and you wish to never get up from the lush grass.

That is until you feel his erection stirring, pulsing under your thigh that accidentally landed on top of his robes around the hips. Must be enjoying himself, if you can assume this much, from the hardness growing between your bodies.

Without delay, your lips turn to graze over his neck, where his scent is stronger and fills your nostrils with its sweetness. It’s as if he just dipped in wine and ate some honey; that’s how rich it is — an intoxicating combination to inhale when you let your teeth nibble on the collarbone.

“Are you sure you’re not coming here with different intentions than just offering your praise to the gods?” You purr against his skin, sliding down his torso, taking the folds of his robes with you to uncover more of his muscular body.

His chest is pale compared to the legs he shows during his public appearances, tinted with a golden tan that gradually disappears under loose layers of fabric.

“Depends. If I can praise the gods through my actions, I will gladly show it all to you,” he replies, his voice sultry.

Oh, those gods have definitely been playing with your heart this year, giggling every time they send him here, probably watching from the clouds as the two lovers meet again under the tree.

“As always, I would be pleased to receive the worship in their stead.”

Lazily, you rut your lower body against his leg while your fingers wander under his robes, smoothing up his inner thigh with a light brush, barely ghosting above the skin. He doesn’t let out even the slightest sound of acknowledgement, yet he doesn’t need to — you see his cock twitching.

The moment the pad of your finger touches it, his arms around your shoulder tighten. He shifts, grinding against the sole of your palm.

With a soft laugh, you lean forward to kiss him on the mouth. The groan of excitement you swallow sounds wonderful in your ears, full of longing for fulfilment, yet he couldn’t force you to move any faster, still too deep in his complicated thoughts.

As you feel the slippery tear of precum slide between your fingers, you want to pull the foreskin down, slowly teasing the ridge under the tip. So many possibilities, so many desires.

One more peck lands on your cheekbone as he puts one of his hands down between your legs, parting them carefully; fingertips stroke at your sensitive thighs, barely reaching for your private parts, too shallow to satisfy either of you.

“It’s okay, I can wait. No need to do it at the same time…” You smile at him when he pauses in his motion to study your face, frowning lightly, almost apologetically. “We have lots of time ahead, don’t worry. I’ve been waiting this whole morning, I can spare you another moment or two.”

He hums in agreement, though not without a bitter note of disappointment, probably having more than one idea of how to actually make it work. He could even fuck you right away, with those vast arms keeping your waist in place and those powerful thighs putting all that strength to work. Or turn you around, with your face near his pelvis and your pretty ass above his face, grinding your wetness against his chin. He has said once that he wants to taste you like that, after all.

His hold around your waist is gentle, firm, and tempting — if you were standing, your knees would have given in long ago just from imagining such treatment.

Nonetheless, as you finally unwrap his shaft to see it standing proudly, flushed and hot, glistening at the very tip, you take your chance to play with the foreskin, moving it back and forth with one hand and circling the glans with another.

Losing your head, you place a gentle kiss on the exposed ridge, feeling the slit tremble when more pre slides out and tickles your lip. It tastes slightly salty, sweet on your tongue, and it makes your hunger only worse, eager to open your mouth and lick up the underside.

A hitched breath follows right after when your tongue swipes across the entire length from the balls to the crown; then another, with more power, to let the head rub against the palate and savour the taste that was left there.

Obvious to notice that he enjoys it so much when he reaches for your midsection and grips at it so eagerly, thumbs stroking your tummy.

But before you could lose your mind and ride his thigh again, you feel something pushing your loincloth aside, cold air hitting your intimate parts; the fresh breeze combined with the sweat cooling your skin sends chills down your back. The difference in temperature is enough to make your skin prickle.

He may not reach your pussy, a bit too far away, but his large hand caresses the curve of your ass languidly, drawing patterns of worship all over the skin, massaging it every time your movements falter.

He knows all the right ways to make you melt; even a mere touch like that leaves you purring happily against his shaft. Your thighs tremble when you imagine yourself in some other position — any of those you two have already experienced together.

He must have thought about them too when his other hand presses on the back of your neck, leading your head down again to lick over his cock.

If that’s the direction he wishes to go, then who are you to decline? Especially when your cunt clenches with emptiness, dripping onto the grass already just from this little gesture.

When you take him in your mouth, you hear his low moans, short and satisfied, followed by the thuds of his head hitting the soft ground. Your hands work to cup his balls, tugging lightly to bring the first surge of pleasure to his body, rewarded with a warm shiver rocking his thighs.

He’s so generous today with the sounds of enjoyment, little gasps escaping his pretty lips, mixing with the wet slurping of your tongue; that makes it nearly impossible to contain the blissful laugh building in your chest.

Finally, you can feel his hands travelling back to your legs, spreading your folds, and rubbing in just the right way — longing for more.

“It’s enough. Come here.”

Without a word, you oblige, although it doesn’t keep you from whining loudly, desperately trying to give him the final push. Your kisses trail up his abs to his pecs, then his shoulders and neck, his body rolling beneath you like waves in the ocean.

All the way, his palms stay on your sides, guiding you with a careful but confident grip onto his lap, holding you steady at a good angle when your lips lock again with passion and impatience.

Your cheeks burn at the accidental sight of his cock nestled perfectly between your folds, ready to take in when you roll your hips — so warm against your clit that the heat pooling in your stomach spreads through your limbs, warming them from the inside.

“Look at you, beautiful. Be so generous and sit on me already. I will repay you the other time,” he whispers, leaning for another kiss; the way he bites into your bottom lip tells you he is impatient.

With your hands on his chest for balance, you straddle him comfortably, locking your ankles behind his thighs. He watches, panting and groaning in sync with the movements, eyes hazed and cheeks flustered as you rise on your knees, hissing from the drag of skin against skin.

Slowly, with a measured pace, you sink onto him with a delightful sting, feeling every little detail of his shape as you hold your breath in anticipation.

He doesn’t close his eyes; he doesn’t look anywhere else but at you. The intense gaze on your face makes your insides clench involuntarily, and it takes a moment for you to regain control and continue your progress.

When you’re finally sitting flat on top of him, your head is spinning. Just being connected makes your walls pulsate, and it takes an enormous amount of effort to not succumb to your needs. Your aching core just wants to rut down until the climax.

There’s still so much you want to do before that happens, so much you wish to share, but the syrupy whines just keep spilling from your throat, and the pleasure takes away the control over your muscles.

You have to cling to his wide shoulders when he wraps his fingers around your waist, trailing the sides with the back of his knuckles. The tender caresses send waves of delight up your nape.

“Be still a little longer,” he coos, but his own breath is so laboured that it trembles in his ribcage as well. “You’re enjoying yourself too much just by sitting on me. How will you manage to continue?”

“Please, don’t say anything… mmh—!” You respond, mouth slack to allow the long moan to slip off your tongue.

The high-pitched keens resonate with your hammering heart. You’re the cause for the shameful noises in the gardens, but you couldn’t care less — just as the man beneath you, you know the gods will have no issue with those. They aren’t easily offended, quite the opposite.

Just thinking that they might be watching makes you hiccup, shattering the rhythm of your breaths.

And then the sound changes when he moves. Hips rising off the ground, slamming your ass down hard enough for your spine to arch, yet you find the perfect position and squeeze around his shaft, receiving a hiss for a reward. His cock pulsates as you grind against it, fucking yourself at last — with a tad more pressure and patience, it wouldn’t matter if he moves or not; it could be just as satisfying.

“Oh, if you only knew how it feels when you clench like this,” he groans as you watch his Adam’s apple move with the heavy swallow. “To feel how my seed gathers in my loins, ready to release into your womb.”

“I didn’t take you for a man like that.”

“Only with you.”

It takes an immense effort to tear your eyes from his handsome face, flushed, shiny with sweat, and with a pleasured grimace twisting the corners of his mouth. But the throbbing is too urgent; your orgasm right at the edge.

“Ah! Hmm… I still prefer to eat too many pomegranates, you know.”

“Don’t you store silphium at the temple?”

“if we haven’t used it all by now before getting a new batch.” You laugh briefly at that.

Your legs open further to lean backwards, hand clasping on his thighs behind your back, giving you better access, and from that view alone, it would be so easy for him to cum on the spot. The pearly sheen of slick running down your thighs makes you quiver and pull away again, no more than an inch, though it leaves your whole body twitching in search of stimulation.

As he realises what you want, one hand lets go of your hips to put itself on the swell of your pussy, right above where your petals spread to embrace him. The delicate touches there, massaging in circles and applying a soft pressure over the protruding pearl hidden among your folds, send the sharp bolts of bliss through your gut.

“Ahh, gods,” you mewl, knees shaking when you try your best not to fall over. His other hand holds your side with strength, securing your trembling figure as you roll yourself against both his fingers and his cock.

Even with all the care to move your hips to get the right angle, your bodies collide forcefully, making your inner walls wail in joy as the nerves in the soft skin catch the last sparks before it all fades. You buckle under the wave of euphoria crashing against you, everything coming at once — the rhythmic contraction, the heat igniting your whole body, and the tears of overstimulation burning your eyes.

Without even trying to open them, you let out a whine, feeling you tighten over him, and legs struggle to not give in, still rocking against his shaft, dragging every second of this godly ecstasy.

Noises of him speaking die down, though, and the pleasure turns sour at the thought you accidentally upset him; maybe your hips jerked too hard against his erection, or you hit his chest a little too harsh.

Then you open your eyes.

He sits up to hold you by your arms, with his length still lodged deep in you, hefty as ever. Yet his features are not scrunched up nor furrowed, not even in the slightest.

He just looks dazed.

“Apologies if I interrupted your preferred rhythm. I lost myself in the pleasure…” His voice is honeyed and so lovely to hear that it seems unreal to experience it just once, even if you’ve already heard it so many times when you embrace together like that, skin to skin. “Come closer. I want you like that… here.”

Your lips find each other in another kiss, slow and sloppy, interspersed with tired licks. It’s such a blessing to see him like that, glowing with peachy blush and with the mix of both yours and his sweat — it’s the thrill of excitement bubbling in your heart that you are the reason behind his satisfaction.

Slightly embarrassed by your previous reaction, you let him move your own body as he wants to, making it feel as if you were one, swaying in a dance of love under the canopy of branches and olives in the warm light of day, basking in the glory of their gifts.

He seems to be thoroughly enjoying the situation, playing with your senses so mercilessly that you have to bite onto your lower lip to suppress another bout of moans — not when you can hear the quiet ones of his own, breaking out with every other breath.

His movements are a tad clumsy and awkward in their attempt to fulfil two roles at the same time. Yet you couldn’t mind the pace, his girth rubbing just the right places and forcing another squelch out of your cunt, drooling shamelessly all over his pelvis.

Still sensitive from the previous peak, it doesn’t take much time before you feel another one building in your lower abdomen. Your legs hug his waist tighter, and you lean your whole body weight against his.

But it’s not your job to move. It’s his, and he does it wonderfully.

Heavens, it feels so good that your throat closes, all your attempts at breathing completely unsuccessful, and he probably sees how your eyes glaze over. Even when your back arches away from him, the intensity of his stare never falters, bringing you the utmost joy, but now his expression changes too.

The words get caught somewhere along the way when your walls spasm and milk him without warning. With the brief gasp, he can’t even tell whether it was intentional or not. His mouth hangs slightly open, letting out silent huffs while his body continues its thrusts, shivering in tandem for the last seconds.

Not once does he tear his gaze away from you as the ecstasy in his stomach snaps — a rush of warmth coating your insides — and slows his pace into shallow rolls. There is something magical in those moments of conclusion — seeing him still holding your frame as if he didn’t just spill all that thick cum into your core.

Gathering strength in your muscles, you straighten up enough to playfully take the tip of his nose between your teeth with a giggle; it doesn’t take long for him to push it up slightly, catching your mouth for a long kiss. With a sigh of satisfaction, he falls back on the grass, taking you with him, still embracing, still connected.

You follow the path his thumb traced down the curve of your cheek, nestling against his chest, and your heart beats alongside his. It’s tempting to let your eyelids close and let the pleasant post-orgasmic sleep claim you.

“Tell me,” he hums, fingers reaching for your head to skim through your hair, untangling sweaty strands. “Is the priestess elated with our leisure? Have I done what I had to do?”

“Perhaps.” You grin at him. “The gods are thankful for your devotion.”

AUTHOR’S NOTE — i say ‘lowkey’ antiquity au because the setting is only vaguely described and could work if we get dr. ratio’s planet at some point in hsr (i wonder if it is amphoreus??) :3 until then, just imagine it as loosely inspired by ancient greece or rome ﾉ as usual, i’m sorry if i overlooked any mistakes, but i can only endure this much of proofreading before giving up ﾉ also, please don’t believe in ancient protection methods even if they could work lmao — the joke there was that reader and dr. ratio get together so often that they have no more silphium to use and need to resort to other temporary methods before acquiring more for future use hehe

[srslyblvck]

── NIGHTMARES, bucky barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

synopsis: bucky is no stranger to nightmares. thankfully you are there to comfort him

genre: fluff

warnings: mention of abuse, hydra

word count: 0.6k

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ BUCKY SHOT UP IN bed, his chest heaving and his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Sweat clung to his skin, plastering his hair to his forehead. His metal hand gripped the blanket so tightly that the fabric strained beneath his hold. The nightmare still clung to him—hydra’s cold halls, the screams, the blinding pain. He couldn’t shake it.

You didn’t need to ask; you already knew. The nightmares had come again.

“Bucky,” you murmured softly, sitting up and reaching for him. Your fingers found his arm, the warmth of your touch a tether. He flinched at first but then leaned into it, the tremor in his muscles softening ever so slightly.

“I’m here, love. You’re okay,” you whispered.

He didn’t respond right away, his gaze fixed on some far-off horror only he could see. The silence between you was heavy, but it wasn’t empty. Slowly, you shifted closer, straddling him, your knees bracketing his hips. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into you. His breath hitched again, this time not from fear but from relief, and his arms came around you, holding you tightly as if you might slip away.

His head found the curve of your neck, and you felt the dampness of his tears against your skin. “Doll…” His voice was low, broken.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” you murmured, your fingers stroking through his dark hair. It was damp too, but you didn’t care. You pressed your lips to his temple, a soft, grounding gesture. His body, which had been rigid with tension, began to relax, melting against you like snow under sunlight.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. You just held him, feeling the steadying rhythm of his breathing begin to match your own.

“I’ll get you some water,” you whispered after a while, shifting slightly. But the moment you tried to pull away, his grip tightened.

“Don’t,” he murmured against your shoulder. His voice was rough, edged with the remnants of the nightmare, but there was a vulnerability there too that made your heart ache.

“Bucky, I’ll be right back—just a glass of water,” you tried again gently, but he shook his head, burying his face deeper into the crook of your neck. His breath was warm against your skin, his voice a quiet plea.

“Don’t go. Please.”

You gave in without hesitation, settling back against him. “Okay, love. I’m not going anywhere,” you promised, your voice steady and soothing. Your fingers returned to his hair, combing through the dark strands in slow, repetitive strokes.

Time seemed to stretch as you sat together in the quiet. His breathing grew steadier, the weight of his body more pliant against yours. He exhaled deeply, the sound almost a sigh, and you pressed your cheek against his hair.

Finally, you guided him to lie back down, shifting with care so he wouldn’t feel alone even for a second. His arm draped over your waist as he curled into you, his head finding its place on your chest.

“You’re safe,” you whispered into the stillness, your hand still weaving through his hair. His breathing evened out, a slow, calming rhythm that lulled you too.

The two of you lay there, the storm of his nightmare forgotten, replaced by the quiet sanctuary of your embrace. The faint glow of dawn began to edge through the curtains, but neither of you stirred.

He was asleep now, his body slack and peaceful against yours, and you couldn’t help but smile softly as you pressed one last kiss to his forehead.

“Sweet dreams, love,” you murmured, closing your eyes. For the first time in a long time, you felt his peace as your own.

[xoluvx]

can you handle it?; b.eilish

Winning draft 3. Full draft and notes at the end.

Enjoy my loves! 🩵

smut

"Do you think you can handle it?" she whispered in your ear, lips grazing your skin. Her lips sent shivers down your spine, hips raising and touching her body. She held your hands above your head, lips moving down your neck. So soft. So gentle. So unlike the thoughts running through your head right now. They were hard, harsh, dirty.

"Please," you whimpered shutting your eyes when her lips ghosted over your nipple.

"I can handle it," you moaned when her wet mouth captured your sensitive bud. So firm against her tongue. Her head bobbed as she sucked, lips puckered, grip so tight the pain was shooting straight down and between your legs. Clenching your thighs, you hummed when she released it with a pop.

Her hands traced the curves of your body. Lips suctioning on every little piece of skin she encountered until she was hovering over your pussy. So wet. So needy. Clenching around nothing. Longing for her touch.

"Are you going to be a good girl for me, then?" she whispered. Her voice soft but teasing. She watched as your lips parted. Gasping, and almost chocking on your own saliva. Chest rising from the bed when her middle finger slipped into your pussy.

"So wet for me already," she cooed and you nodded wanting to satisfy her. To give her exactly what she wanted so you could get what you needed. She bit her bottom lip watching her finger glide in and out. Then she slipped another in and you gasped contently closing your eyes.

The motion of her fingers moving and slightly rotating made your toes curl. In turn, she curled her fingers motioning in a 'come here' hand movement and you moaned bringing your hands down to her head. Fingers weaving through her hair.

"One more," she whispered and you nodded biting your lip muffling your whimpers. The feeling of a third finger made your head spin. You felt tight around her fingers already. She didn't move for a few seconds. Fingers buried in your cunt. She waited for your hips to raise, silently begging for more. She obliged moving her fingers. She didn't pull out all the way, she simply felt the inside of your pussy. Spongy walls clenching around your digits. She studied your facial expressions. You were so lost in pleasure you didn't notice the fourth finger.

At least not until she moved her hand and her knuckles pressed on the base of your entrance.

"How-" you breathed furrowing your brows and inhaling deeply.

"-how many fingers?" you managed to speak, tightening your grip on her hair as she smiled at you sweetly, that pretty little fucking-

"Four," she beamed pulling out slightly before pushing back in, quickly establishing a steady pace that made your insides quite literary churn. You were gasping for air. Cursing as you fell back on the mattress releasing her hair, building the confidence to move your hips and match her rhythm.

Billie groaned when she felt you move.

"You're being such a good girl for me," she praised burying herself in your pussy so gloriously.

"Do you think you can take it?" she asked, referring to the conversation you'd had earlier before you were in bed. Before you laid naked in front of her releasing all control. Her was voice raspy as she licked her lip concentrating on the way you pussy wrapped around her fingers.

"Yes," you cried holding her wrist encouraging her to go for it. To consume your body. To tear you apart in every sense of the word.

She didn't need more than those three pretty letters seeping off your tongue to adjust her thumb. Fingers forming a claw of sorts, pushing slowly into your pussy as you relaxed taking her in. Adjusting to the side of her fingers.

"Fuck," Billie moaned, mouth open, almost drooling at the sight. She flinched when your pussy clenched. It felt like you were crushing her fingers, but you inhaled she was able to sit comfortably in your pussy.

Noticing you'd gone silent, lip tucked under your teeth biting as if you were on a mission to draw blood, Billie spoke. Her voice snapping you back to reality. Bringing you back down to earth. Your eyelids fluttered opened and your eyes met.

"Talk to me, baby girl" she cooed still holding still.

"Keep going, please-" you begged moving your hips. She smiled sweetly and nodded before moving her hand. There was a pressure that was both sweet and foreign. She was in deeper than before. Filling you up so deliciously.

"More-" you shut your eyes swaying your hips.

She started pounding on your g spot. Moving her hand until you were seeing stars, clenching around her fist. With each stroke, it felt like you were sucking her in deeper and deeper. The familiar tightening feeling and coiling was burning in your core. You needed release. You needed it now. She was hitting all your pleasure spots, but tenfold. You were spilling at the seams. Shockwaves intense.

"That's it," Billie encouraged watching your face contort in pleasure.

"Cum for me," she whispered bringing her lips to your inner thigh. She peppered kisses on your warm skin, her movements only growing faster and harder. You were so tight around her hand she felt her fingers getting crushed and she was so proud. Your cries echoed through the room as you gripped on to the sheets.

"Please-" she whimpered peppering kisses on your other thigh and that's all you needed for the ticking time bomb to explode. She felt your pulsating orgasm on her fingers. Your moans washing over her skin, consuming her all.

You stayed like that for what seemed hours. But really was only a few minutes. Then she started pulling out gently as you winced and cried holding on to her wrist.

"I'm sorry. Fuck. I'm sorry angel," she hummed watching your eyebrows relax when she stopped moving.

"I'm going to pull out now," she whispered encouragingly as stroked your thigh with her free hand. You whimpered, but you nodded. She pulled her hand out slowly until you were empty and clenching around nothing instantly missing the way she made you feel so full.

It felt like her fingers were broken, but she stared at her hand totally covered with your arousal. From her fingertips to her wrist. She was enamored. And proud so fucking proud.

"You did such a good job," she whispered against your cheek pressing her lips on your skin causing you to sigh contently. A small smile forming on your lips as held your chin. Your eyelids fluttered opened and you eyes met in tender stare. When your lips met you melted into her embrace allowing yourself to be engulfed in her arms, indulging the praise.

• • •

✨ the draft ✨

Note: This draft was most likely written late at night. Like I prob woke up/was close to sleeping and wrote this down. That’s how my brain works, I gotta write it down right away or I’ll forget about it. Rip to all the ideas I’ve thought of and forgotten. I hope ya'll enjoyed the final thing. This was fun! Let's do it again? I love you babies 💖

[mapiforpresident]

Hi, Can i request a songfic? with the lyrics from „i cant help falling in love with you“ with R having to pick up drunk Leah or drunk Alexia (or Mapi choose whoever you want) from a party with their teammates and Alexia/Leah or Mapi tells R just how much she loves her in front of her teammates? And later a bit suggestive maybe? If its ok ofc. Love ur fics btw. Have a good day, evening or whatever

I Can't Help Falling in Love with You

Leah x reader

warnings: alcohol

~~~

You weren’t sure how you ended up in this situation. The party had started innocently enough, a celebration with Leah and her teammates after a long and hard-fought match. Everyone was letting loose and enjoying themselves. But somewhere between dancing to terrible pop songs and having a few drinks, things went from fun to... chaotic.

When you received the call, you didn’t expect to hear Leah’s slurred voice on the other end.

“Heyyyy, babe…” Leah hiccuped, the background noise loud with laughter and music. “I... hic I think I need your help.”

You frowned, looking around your living room where you had just gotten comfortable after a long day. “What’s going on, Le? You okay?”

“I’m fine! I’m… I’m fine, but, um, I can’t find the hic keys to the Uber… and I need to get home…” She paused, and you could hear her giggle faintly. “Also, I might have had a few too many drinks and... I might be in love with you… just, you know, casually telling you now. In case you didn’t know. I really love you.”

You smiled softly at her words, but you couldn’t help the concerned feeling rising in your chest. “Leah, where are you? I’ll come get you.”

“Right here! At the party… with my teammates… just… hic come and get me, yeah? I hic miss you…” Her voice was soft, almost tender, and you could hear the affection in it.

With a sigh, you grabbed your jacket and your keys. “Stay put, I’m on my way.”

When you pulled up to the party venue after looking at Leah's find my iphone, it was clear that Leah wasn’t the only one who had overdone it. The place was loud and filled with Leah's teammates, most of them either dancing, laughing, or finding their own corners to relax. You spotted Alessia first, sitting with Kyra and Vic at a table with drinks in hand.

But you didn’t see Leah.

Your heart skipped a beat as you walked toward them, trying to keep your cool. “Hey, have you seen Leah?” you asked, voice steady.

Alessia looked up at you with a half-smile, eyes slightly hazy. “She’s, uh, sitting in the corner by the window… She might have had a little too much to drink, but you know how she gets. She’s a mess.”

Kyra snickered, clearly enjoying this more than she should.

Rolling your eyes, you made your way through the crowd, weaving in and out of people until you finally saw Leah.

She was sitting on a couch, her head resting on her hand as she looked up at you with wide eyes.

“There you are!” Leah smiled drunkenly, her voice soft and sweet. “I knew you’d come… I really missed you… you look so beautiful tonight. I love you so much. You have no idea.”

You felt your heart swell as you crouched in front of her, trying to hide the smile tugging at your lips. “Le, come on, let’s get you home, yeah? You’re not in any condition to be out here anymore.”

“No, no,” she protested, shaking her head. “I’m not done having fun. You… you know what’s so crazy? I can’t help it... I just keep falling in love with you over and over.”

You raised an eyebrow, not able to resist teasing her. “Leah, you’re drunk.”

“I know,” she said, her smile softening. “But I love you. I love you so much, you have no idea how much.”

“I love you too, Leah,” you said, your voice soft. “But let’s get you home first, okay?”

She beamed, pulling you into a soft kiss that caught you by surprise. When she pulled away, she looked up at you with stars in her eyes.

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

“You’re just saying that because you’re in love with me too.”

“Maybe,” you teased. “But we’re getting you home now, okay?”

Leah giggled, nodding as she stood up, swaying slightly. “Okay… just promise me something.”

“What’s that?”

“Promise me you’ll still love me tomorrow, when I’m not drunk and I can remember all of this.”

You chuckled softly, guiding her toward the door. “I promise.”

As you led her out of the party and into the night air, you couldn’t help but smile at how crazy your relationship had been from the start, how it was always filled with moments of pure chaos, and yet, in that chaos, you were constantly reminded of just how much you loved her.

And maybe, just maybe, Leah was right—you couldn’t help falling in love with her either.

~~~

Feel free to leave a tip here. Not required at all and I still will write requests without it, but they are greatly appreciated and these requests are guaranteed in 2-3 days.

[random-writer-23]

how about logan giving you a facial?

~~~18+ MDNI, oral sex (m receiving), he's a headpusher, I'm rattling the bars of my enclosure actually~~~

I knew the kind of night I was in for when I heard the door slam shut when Logan got home, I sat in the living room my eyes fixed on the tv as a show droned on in the background, I wasn’t paying much attention to it anymore. Not when I could practically feel the anger and stress radiating from him.  I hear his work shoes thunk as they hit the floor after he takes them off carelessly tossing them aside on our hardwood floor. He groans and I finally see him emerge from the hallway, the tiredness in his eyes unmistakable, and yet as soon as he saw me sitting on the couch he smiled wide, even though it was slightly strained I knew he was happy to see me. 

“Hey pretty girl” he murmured kissing the top of my head as he sat himself next to me on the couch, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me into his side, breathing in my scent and instantly relaxing against me. 

“Long day?” I ask softly and he reaches down rubbing his hand on my thigh.

“Yeah you could say that” he grunts sighing heavily, leaning his head against mine as we both look toward the TV watching some mindless sitcom play out, even though he was relaxed against me I could still tell his body was riddled with tension, I wanted to help him relax a bit, get rid of some of the tension and stress that courses through his veins. “Hey baby?” He says his voice a low growl, and I know what’s coming next. 

“Hmm?” I hum softly, and he chuckles lightly. 

“I’m a little tense right now… be a doll and help me out” He says quietly running his fingers through my hair, he smiles at me hopefully and I can’t say no, not when he’s been at work all day, not when I want to take care of him. 

“Mmm fine” I say teasingly and he grins pulling me in for a kiss, dragging me away from his side so I’m straddling his lap, he breathes in deeply as he kisses me smiling against my lips and I pull away to laugh. 

“You’re so beautiful” he murmurs tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear, and I smile. 

“So you’ve said” I tease and he rolls his eyes frowning.

“Don’t be a brat” he grumbles trying to keep the stoic look on his face. I just laugh leaning in for another kiss which he eagerly accepts his lips meeting mine almost desperate for a taste, he bites my bottom lip and I part my lips granting him access, he groans against me, and I feel him growing hard beneath me. He grips my hip tight, breathing deeply before weaseling his hands under my shirt trailing them up towards my breasts. His hands stop when they reach their desired destination and he pulls away from my lips to grin at me. “No bra?” He tsks and cups my tits under my shirt squeezing them tightly, running my his finger teasingly over my nipple, and I whine, as he eagerly tugs on my shirt casting it aside. “Look at you” he growls leaning in taking a nipple in his mouth letting his tongue circle it biting gently before repeating the process on the other one. I moan arching into his touch, my hands gripping tight to his hair, and he lets one of his hands fall to the small of my back pulling me tighter against him, before letting my breast go with a soft pop. “Let’s see if the bottoms match” he says squeezing his fingers into the waistband of my shorts feeling for any panties. I pull my hands away from his hair resting them on his hands pulling them away, shaking my head. 

“No baby, I’m taking care of you tonight” I murmur kissing him again and he grumbles his protests against my lips, as I pull away sliding down off his lap till I’m kneeling on the floor and his protests quiet down. His fiery gaze follows me as I sink down in front of him my hands sliding down his chest till they rest on his belt buckle. I tug on it undoing it and pulling it out his belt loops, bending my head lower to kiss at his clothed erection. He growls tilting his head back letting it fall back onto the couch, and his fingers weave into my hair pushing my face down against his bulge. 

“C’mon baby don’t tease” he huffs and I giggle,reaching up to undo the button of his pants. 

“Fine just cause you’ve had such a hard day…” I smile and he lifts his hips fumbling with his pants desperately, pulling them down just enough to pull his dick out. I lick my lips as his rigid cock smacks lightly against his stomach. I take it in my hand stroking it lightly and he groans breathlessly his eyes closing and he weaves his fingers through my hair. I grin leaning forward to lick up his happy trail as I stroke his cock, before sitting back on my feet, running my tongue along the tip of his dick licking up his precum groaning softly at the taste, he shudders under my touch, tugging on my hair lightly making me look up at him my tongue dangling out my mouth, he looks down at me his gaze heavy.

“I said don’t tease” he growls, and I shiver at the sound looking up at him as I wrap my lips around the head of his cock, his eyebrows furrow and his grip on my hair tightens, his lips parting as he exhales slowly. “That’s my good girl” he rumbles lightly pushing my head further onto his cock, I let him push me down until he hits the back of my throat and I gag. “Almost took the whole thing baby” he says pulling my head up and pushing me down again, thrusting his hips slowly to help me get him off. I hollow my cheeks sucking lightly, and he grunts closing his eyes as he thrusts into my mouth, pushing my head all the way down my nose touching his happy trail, I gag as he pushes my head down keeping there for a few seconds before tugging on my hair pulling me up off his cock. I gasped for breath looking up at him, drool dribbling down my chin landing on his thighs. He looks down at me his pupils blown wide, and I take his dick back in my mouth running my tongue along the prominent vein on the side, bringing my hand up to delicately massage the heavy balls adorning him. “Oh that’s it baby” he mutters petting my head softly, I bring my hand back up to his cock gripping it gently letting it run up and down his length as my mouth does the rest of the work, I can hear his breath getting heavier. “Fucking hell baby” He grunts, “Just a little more…” He moans, his chest stuttering as it rises and falls, his grip on my hair tightening before abruptly pulls my mouth away from his cock, angling my head up. “Tongue out babygirl” He pants using his other hand to fist his cock desperately, I whine obediently sticking my tongue out keeping my mouth open. “Such a good listener pretty girl” He grunts, and he lets out a strangled gasp, I close my eyes and the warm feeling of his cum hits my face, he gasps and I moan feeling it hit my tongue. The warmth spreads across my face as he aims covering my face in his cum. He gasps and breathes heavily. “Fuck baby” He chuckles and I finally open my eyes bringing my tongue back in my mouth to swallow what he gave me. I moan at the taste and I see him bring out his phone, he looks at me and I nod. He grins aiming the camera towards me taking a picture of me. “Youre so fucking beautiful” He groans. 

“So you’ve said” I giggle, and he rolls his eyes, he tucks his cock away and grabs my hands helping me off the floor. 

“Don’t be a brat, baby” he chuckles, kissing the top of my head. “C’mon let’s get you cleaned up” He murmurs softly, and I nod letting him lead me to the bathroom. 

[hobie-enthusiast]

— cw; making out, suggestive themes, implications of death

thinking about hobie brown who would impulsively get a new matching piercing with you after a night out in the city. he brings you to a friend of his who does his piercings, someone he trusts. he tells them to do whatever they want, as long as the two of you match. he offers his hand to you to squeeze when you’re being pierced, and after, he’s absolutely obsessed with how you both look.

thinking about hobie brown who’s protective of the things he loves, especially you. He doesn’t trust many people, especially those he doesn’t know. it's little gestures, like pulling you close to him by the arm or waist or walking on the side on the street the road is. he couldn't imagine something happening to you, he has a strong urge to always keep you safe. that's probably why spider-man always happens to show up when you get into some trouble alone.

thinking about hobie brown who drops several hints he’s spider-man. he doesn’t like lying to you, and even though he isn’t, it feels like he is. so he waits for you to ask or put the pieces together. if you never do, he doesn’t outright tell you. he would never want you to think he’s doing it to impress you or be famous. not that you would think that. but if you do, he’s honest and even offers to let you be his partner-in-crime, its perfect.

thinking about hobie brown who always wants to hear about your interests. even if it’s something he doesn’t know or understand the excitement over. he wants to hear every detail you know. he wants to know and understand where your excitement comes from and what you love about it. he will just sit there with such a love struck grin, eyes never leaving you or your lips moving so passionately.

thinking about hobie brown who lives for post-show make out sessions. after his band plays he always takes you to the back of the venue, holding you close to him as he kisses you like there's no tomorrow. he's addicted to you; the way your hot bodies press together, the way your lips feel on his, the way he can make you unravel from his hands settling on your waist. it's like a drug he's never going to get enough of, especially when his leg slots so perfectly between your thighs to rile you up. after he's always a panting mess, eyes lidded as he laughs, yet the laugh is a low chuckle from the way you practically drag him home.

thinking about hobie brown who would not hesitate to interrupt a canon event to save your life. whether it's in his dimension or some other variation of his, he doesn't care. the second he notices your life in danger, he's saving you. he can handle a heavy and hard scolding from miguel. hell he can ever handle being kicked from the spider-society for good. but nothing comes above saving your life, and he is a firm believer in that.

thinking about hobie brown who is obsessed with the way you play with his hair. his favourite way to fall asleep is in your lap, your hands tangled in his wicks, treating them and him like the most precious thing in the world. it's like some sort of spell you put on him, and he will never get enough of it. you start scratching his scalp or weaving your fingers through his hair? he's asleep in minutes. he's very protective of his hair and who can touch it, so letting someone he loves see him so vulnerable is always enough to relax him and coax him into getting proper sleep.

truly just thinking about hobie brown.

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Boys Day Out.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here!

authors note - these new pictures are making me go feral, like his hair grew back so quick and ngl im absolutely loving it 🥰

word count - 2.8k

in which, manchester united are playing luton town fc in the premier league, and so what better thing to do then take your two football obsessed children to watch there favourite team hopefully win.

Friday 16th February, 2024.

Last Friday was a rare moment of tranquility in your household.

You sat nestled in your shared bed, Harry's arm draped around your waist, pulling you close. As you lost yourself in the pages of your book, you couldn't help but steal glances at him, admiring the way his eyes sparkled with every scroll on his phone.

The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm aura around the room, creating a peaceful atmosphere that enveloped you both. With each shared smile and whispered exchange, the bond between you grew stronger, weaving a tapestry of love and companionship that filled the space between you.

As the subtle silence enveloped the room, Harry gently broke it, his voice filled with excitement. "Y’know, m’love, I was thinking... How about taking the boys to the Manchester United match on Sunday? A mate has a few tickets spare. It would be a fantastic day out for them, and I reckon it'd do you good to have some time for yourself."

You paused, considering his suggestion. " H, I don't mind staying with the boys. Besides, it's a big game, and they might get restless."

Harry shook his head, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. "Nonsense, they'll love it! And you deserve a break, you do so much for them already. Plus, it'll be a chance for me to bond with the boys, just the three of us."

You couldn't help but smile at his earnestness.

"I suppose it would be nice to have a bit of me-time," you admitted, though still hesitant about leaving the boys for the day.

Seeing your uncertainty, Harry took your hand in his, his gaze softening. "Trust me, m’love, it'll be a day they'll never forget. Besides, it'll give you a chance to relax and unwind, do whatever you fancy without worrying about the boys."

His words warmed your heart, and you found yourself nodding, a sense of relief washing over you.

"Okay, you've convinced me. Let's make it a boys' day out on Sunday," you agreed, a smile spreading across your face at the thought of a few hours of peace and quiet.

Sunday 18th February, 2024.

Harry navigated his Range Rover through the familiar streets, the excitement palpable in the air as they neared Kenilworth town where the football match awaited.

In the backseat, Cameron, his eight-year-old son, gazed out of the window with a mix of wonder and anticipation, his Manchester United kit proudly worn.

Cameron Harry Styles was conceived only five months into yours and Harry’s relationship, it definitely came as a shock seeing as he was only twenty-two, but he absolutely wouldn’t change it for the world.

"Dad, do you think Rashford will score today?" Cameron asked eagerly, his eyes alight with excitement.

Harry glanced at Cameron through the rearview mirror, a smile playing on his lips.

"M’reckon he's got a good chance, Cam. But y’know how football is, anything can happen," he replied, his voice filled with enthusiasm.

Meanwhile, in the other car seat Dexter Robin Styles, your youngest child who was conceived on your honeymoon.

Dexter, just turned two, slept soundly in his car seat, blissfully unaware of the excitement surrounding him. Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of his youngest son, his heart swelling with love.

"Look at him, out like a light already," he remarked to Cameron.

Cameron grinned back, his excitement bubbling over.

"We can wake him up when we get there, Daddy," he declared confidently, already planning the day ahead in his mind. "I can't wait to see the players up close!"

The journey continued for another half an hour, the excitement building with each passing mile. Cameron peppered Harry with questions about the match, his eagerness infectious as they drew closer to the stadium. Dexter stirred in his sleep occasionally, but Cameron kept a watchful eye on him, eager to share every moment of the adventure with his little brother.

Finally, they pulled up in the stadium's private car park, greeted by the bustling atmosphere of fellow fans and the distant sounds of cheers from inside. Harry turned off the engine, glancing back at his sons with a grin.

As Harry stepped out of the car, he made his way around to Dexter's car seat, his heart full of anticipation for the day ahead. Gently, he opened the door and leaned in to wake his youngest son.

"Hey there, sleepyhead," he murmured softly, giving Dexter a gentle shake. "It's time to wake up, buddy."

Dexter stirred, his eyelids fluttering as he slowly emerged from his deep slumber.

"Daddy?" he mumbled, his voice groggy from sleep. "Carry me, please?"

Harry couldn't help but smile at his son's request, knowing full well that Dexter was a total daddy's boy.

"Of course, little man," he replied, ready to scoop Dexter up into his arms. "You ready for some football?"

Dexter nodded, rubbing his eyes with tiny fists. "Yeah, football!" he exclaimed, his voice still laced with sleepiness.

Harry chuckled softly, planting a kiss on Dexter's forehead.

"That's right, buddy. But first, we need to get you out of this car seat," he said, gently manoeuvring Dexter's sleepy limbs.

Meanwhile, Cameron had already made his way out of the car and stood next to his father, his hand clasped firmly in Harry's.

"I can't wait to see the players, Daddy!" he exclaimed, his excitement palpable.

Harry chuckled, ruffling Cameron's hair affectionately.

"I know, buddy. It's going to be an amazing day," he replied, his heart swelling with love for his two sons.

The stadium wasn’t that busy, but that may be because the match didn’t kick off for another hour.

No one had managed to spot him thus far, so it was all smooth sailing.

Dexter was still in his arms, thumb in his mouth and Cameron was holding his fathers hand, his shoulder length curls tied back in a loose man bun that you had done this morning.

As they made their way through the bustling stadium, Cameron's stomach rumbled loudly, coincidently as they passed a nearby food stand.

Oh how he craved some warm food right now.

"Daddy, m’hungry!" he exclaimed, tugging on Harry's hand.

Harry chuckled. "Hungry, huh? Remember, it's not 'want', it's 'would like'," he gently corrected, trying to instill good manners in his son.

Cameron nodded eagerly, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the food stand.

"Okay, Daddy. Can I have a slice of pizza, please?" he asked politely, his stomach grumbling impatiently.

Harry smiled, proud of Cameron's manners.

"Of course, buddy. Let's see what they have," he replied, leading the way to the queue.

As they waited in line, Harry turned to Dexter, who was still cradled in his arms.

"And what about you, Dex? Would y’like anything to drink?" he asked, brushing a stray lock of hair from Dexter's forehead.

Dexter nodded enthusiastically, his eyes wide with excitement.

"Fruit shoot, please, Daddy!" he chirped, his little voice filled with anticipation.

He should have guessed.

Harry chuckled, planting a kiss on Dexter's cheek.

"Fruit shoot it is, champ," he replied, making a mental note to grab a couple of bottles for the boys.

Finally reaching the front of the queue, Harry ordered a slice of pizza for Cameron and a couple of fruit shoots for Dexter. As they walked away from the food stand, Cameron eagerly bit into his slice, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. And with Dexter happily sipping on his fruit shoot.

In the stands of the bustling stadium, Harry sat between his two boys, each in their own seat. Dexter, perched proudly in his own seat, had insisted on being a "big boy" for the match, his determination shining through as he sat upright, his legs swinging with excitement.

Though still too young to fully grasp the intricacies of the game, Dexter's eyes sparkled with wonder as he took in the sights and sounds of the stadium, his tiny hands gripping the edge of his seat in anticipation.

Cameron, on the other hand, was completely engrossed in the action on the field. With his Manchester United scarf wrapped around his neck and his eyes fixed on the players, he leaned forward eagerly, his heart racing with each pass and shot. His passion for the game was palpable, his entire being consumed by the thrill of the match unfolding before him.

As the game entered its fifth minute, Manchester United surged ahead with an early goal, igniting a chorus of cheers from the crowd.

Harry couldn't help but smile as he watched the excitement ripple through Cameron, his son's eyes shining with pure joy. And beside him, Dexter's infectious laughter filled the air, a constant reminder of the simple pleasures of being together as a family.

As the game entered its seventh minute, Manchester United's Rasmus Højlund seized an opportunity and scored a magnificent goal, sending the stadium into a frenzy of cheers and applause.

Cameron, unable to contain his excitement, leapt up from his seat, his eyes wide with jubilation as he started jumping up and down.

"Yes! Go, United!" he shouted, his voice filled with exhilaration.

Beside him, Dexter watched with wide-eyed wonder, not quite understanding what had just happened.

Sensing his confusion, Harry leaned down and whispered in Dexter's ear, "Dexter, our team just scored a goal! Isn't that exciting?"

Dexter's face lit up with understanding, and he clambered down from his seat, his tiny legs carrying him over to stand in front of Harry.

With a beaming smile, he reached out for Cameron's hand, eager to join in the celebration.

"Goal! Goal!" he exclaimed, mimicking his older brother's excited jumps.

Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of his two boys jumping up and down in unison, their laughter echoing through the stadium. Quickly pulling out his phone, he aimed the camera at them, capturing the precious moment for posterity.

As the final whistle blew, signaling the end of the match with Manchester United emerging victorious with a score of 2-1, Cameron was buzzing with excitement. He bounced around, his energy infectious as he reveled in his team's triumph.

Meanwhile, Dexter, nestled contentedly in Harry's arms, gazed up at his father with sleepy eyes, still basking in the excitement of the game.

Unbeknownst to the boys, Harry had a surprise in store for them. With a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he decided to keep it a secret until the perfect moment. As they made their way out of the stadium, Cameron and Dexter assumed they were heading home, completely unaware of the surprise awaiting them.

A kind-hearted stadium staff member, noticing the boys' enthusiasm for the game, discreetly approached Harry and whispered about a special opportunity to visit the dressing room of Manchester United. Sensing the boys' excitement, Harry nodded gratefully, knowing that this unexpected treat would be the perfect end to an already unforgettable day.

They soon arrived at the changing rooms.

"Daddy, where are we going?" Cameron asked, his voice tinged with excitement and curiosity. Before Harry could respond, the door swung open, revealing a sight that left Cameron speechless.

His eyes widened in awe as he took in the scene before him—the dressing room of Manchester United, filled with his favorite players. For a moment, Cameron was rendered silent, his mouth hanging open in disbelief as he stood in the presence of his idols.

Meanwhile, Dexter, wide awake and brimming with enthusiasm, squirmed in Harry's arms, eager to explore. Spotting one of the players nearby, he wiggled free and dashed over without hesitation, his extroverted nature shining through as he greeted the player with a wide grin and a burst of chatter.

Harry couldn't help but laugh at Dexter's boldness, his heart swelling with pride at his son's fearlessness. As Dexter chatted animatedly with the player, Harry followed after him, a fond smile on his face as he watched his youngest son soak up the moment with unbridled joy.

Beside him, Cameron held onto Harry's trouser leg tightly, his shyness evident as he observed the scene with a mixture of awe and apprehension. Harry knelt down beside him, offering reassurance and encouragement.

"S’okay, Cam. They're just regular people, like you and me," he whispered, gently squeezing Cameron's hand in support.

Harry noticed Cameron's apprehension and knelt down beside him, offering a reassuring smile and a comforting squeeze of his hand.

"S’okay, buddy. Y’don't have to talk to anyone if you don't want to," he whispered gently, understanding his son's discomfort.

As the bustling activity in the dressing room continued, a familiar figure approached the trio.

It was Marcus Rashford, Cameron's favorite footballer.

The moment Cameron caught sight of him, his eyes widened in awe, and he instinctively tightened his grip on Harry's hand.

Harry smiled warmly as Marcus crouched down to Cameron's level.

"Hey there, buddy! Did you enjoy the game?" Marcus asked, his voice gentle and friendly.

Cameron nodded eagerly, his heart pounding with excitement.

"Y-yes! It wa-was amazing! Y-you're my favorite player," he stammered, his cheeks flushing with nervousness.

Marcus grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Thank you, mate! That means a lot to me. What's your name?" he asked, reaching out to ruffle Cameron's hair.

"C-Cameron," he replied, his voice trembling with excitement. "I-I've always wanted to be like you when I play football with my team."

Marcus's smile widened at Cameron's words.

"That's fantastic, Cameron! Keep working hard, and who knows, maybe one day you'll be playing for Manchester United too," he encouraged, his words filled with genuine warmth and encouragement.

Encouraged by Marcus's friendly demeanor, Cameron slowly began to relax. With Harry's reassuring presence beside him, he found the courage to step out from behind his father's leg and engage in conversation with his idol.

Harry, holding onto Dexter with his other hand to prevent him from wandering off again, watched proudly as Cameron and Marcus chatted animatedly. Despite Cameron's initial nervousness, his admiration for Marcus shone through, and Harry couldn't help but feel a surge of pride at his son's bravery.

And as they continued to talk, Cameron's stutter gradually faded away, replaced by an excited chatter as he eagerly shared his love for football with his idol. In that moment, surrounded by his father's support and the friendly encouragement of Marcus Rashford, Cameron felt like anything was possible.

As their conversation with Marcus continued, he noticed the excitement radiating from both Cameron and Dexter.

With a warm smile, Marcus gently interrupted their chatter.

"Hey guys, would you like to take a photo together?" he offered, extending his arms towards them.

Cameron's eyes lit up with excitement, while Dexter's face broke into a wide grin.

"Yes, please!" Cameron exclaimed, eager to capture the moment with their idol.

Marcus chuckled warmly as he scooped Dexter into one arm and Cameron into the other.

"Alright, let's get a picture," he said, positioning them carefully for the shot.

As Marcus held onto the boys, he glanced over at Harry, who stood nearby, watching with a proud smile.

"Would you like to join us in the photo?" Marcus asked, extending an invitation to Cameron and Dexter's father.

Harry's heart swelled with gratitude at the gesture.

"Absolutely," he replied, stepping forward to join the group.

With Harry now in the frame, another player from the team stepped forward to take the photo.

"Say cheese!" he called out, readying the camera.

Cameron, Dexter, and Harry beamed with excitement as the photo was taken, capturing the moment they shared with Marcus Rashford. As the shutter clicked, Harry felt a sense of overwhelming gratitude, knowing that this experience would be a cherished memory for years to come.

After the photo was taken, Cameron ran straight over to Harry, his eyes shining with tears of joy.

"Daddy, I love you so much! This has been the best day ever!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms around Harry in a tight hug.

Touched by Cameron's heartfelt words, Harry wrapped his arms around his son, holding him close.

"I love you too, Cam. M’so glad we could share this special moment together," he replied, his voice filled with emotion.

Feeling left out of the hug, Dexter toddled over, his arms outstretched.

"Me too! Hug, Daddy!" he chimed in, joining the embrace with a giggle.

Harry couldn't help but laugh at Dexter's enthusiasm, his heart overflowing with love for his two sons. Pulling them both close, he held them tightly, savoring the moment of pure happiness and love.

As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, laughter mingled with tears of joy. In that moment, surrounded by the love of his family, Harry felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the beautiful memories they had created together. And as they headed home, hand in hand, he knew that this day would be etched in their hearts forever.

[acexsmhking]

Please do Neuvillette x Reader, let your imagination go wild, I just need a Neuvi x Reader . (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

𝐖𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥

(𝗮𝗱𝗷.) 𝗦𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲; 𝗮 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝗶𝗻𝗳𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵

: ̗̀➛ Neuvilette x FEM!Reader

Summary: Your busy husband comes back home from long trails and Judgement. He wants to spend the rest of his day on you

Warning(s): 18+ content, AFAB!Reader, POC!Reader in mind but not described, p in v, mentions of oral, inhuman cock, mentions of blood, slightly monster-fucking, knotting, breeding, biting, degrading-praise,

It was a thankfully sunny day in Fontaine, the melusines were busy braiding and decorating your hair. Your beloved daughter’s putting a wide arrange of rainbow roses, and lumidouce bells. You sat on the porch, relaxing in the comfortable outside furniture. A few of the lovely girls curled against your sides while some were by your feet playing with sea shells and rocks from the beach. While they were on their breaks, the girls closets to you switched ‘duties with their mother’ as Manaia had said. Of course, Neuvilette wasn’t here to be a bit firmer with them so they could greedily bask in their mother’s attention and presence.

Speaking of your beloved husband, he was away of course, on work. Since the day had been bright thus far it was probably only a few misdemeanors, maybe just some misunderstood gossip. You were grateful that for the past week your husband was in a cheerful mood as it hadn’t rain in a week. Not even a cloud in the sky. You could hear giggles from the girls behind you, soft plopping of your hair.

“What are you little ones up to?” You mused, glancing back at Aeife and Blathine. “Nothing, Mama! But we are doing so good!” Blathine giggled, Aeifei nodded raising your half completed braid slightly. “We gonna give Monsieur Neuvilette a matching one!” She laughed, they continued weaving your hair. You simply shook your head, chuckling at them. The girls, no matter which, all agreed to do Neuvilette’s hair before he went off to work.

Your fingers twirled Grana’s hair tuffs as she laid peacefully on your lap. Her hand holding her sister Flo’s, who was on your other side. You looked back suddenly as your heard the door creak open, a shuffle sound coming. “Bonsoir, Monsieur Neuvilette!” The girls chimed together, running to greet him at the door. Helping him dust off his clothes as they told him stories of their days. Neuvilette smiled, patting their heads and finger-combing their hair. “Look look! Doesn’t Mama’s hair look pretty. We’ll give you a matching braid tomorrow Monsieur Neuvilette.” Elphane smiled, showing off your hair.

Neuvilette nodded, hand on your waist as the other pulled the braid forward. “Oui oui, it looks lovely, Mes petits amours.” Neuvilette chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “How was your day, My love?” He hummed, rubbing the tips of your noses together. “It was very peaceful, mostly just lounging as the girls had their fun.” You said, wrapping your arms around his side. The girls spent a bit more time with you both before leaving. Each having their jobs to go off and continue on.

You laid on the bed as Neuvilette rested on you. His arms were firmly wrapped around you as you played with his hair. Massaging his scalp, one of Neuvilette’s hands wondered. Roaming over your sides to the fat of your hips, moving his head to look into your eyes. “Yes, my love?” You hummed, combing through his bangs to get a better look of his face. “Just admiring my wife’s beauty..” He mumbled, hand squeezing your thighs. Pulling back to bring your leg upon his side, touch moving up to your calf as he kissed your ankle. You giggled, resting your calf on his shoulder as he did the same to the other leg.

“Tu sens divinement bon, Mon amour.” He ruffed, deep voice becoming raspier as he pressed his pelvis against you. You could feel his growing need, your one leg slipping down to his hips to pull him closer. You reached out, beckoning to him. Neuvilette dipped down, pressing a kiss to your nose before kissing your lips. The kiss was soft yet passionate. Your arms wrapping around his neck, fingers wondering to his soft locs. He pulled back again, but only slightly, running his lips down your jaw to your shoulder. You could feel the outline of fangs as he pressed kisses against your skin.

“Sois prudente, Neuvilette!” You giggled, goosebumps forming on your skin at the threat of his teeth. You knew your darling husband would never hurt you.. well, not unless you wanted it. You sighed, pulling him closer, subconsciously grinding your hips into him. It was rare the Almighty hydro Sovereign had breaks like this, well it was rare for anyone in Fontaine. Neuvilette planned on spending the rest of the day and night worshipping his sweet wife. He grunted when you began pulling on his clothes, shrugging off his work shirt and tugging your house gown. His lips roamed on every inch of skin that was revealed, fangs ever so slightly nipping your skin. You were perfect, from every tiny detail. He loved you.

You could feel it, not just his hard cock pressing against you. No, but how he held you, how he worshipped you. A divinity being so gentle with a mere mortal like you? You matched Neuvilette as best you could, kissing wherever he let you. Too wrapped up in kissing you that he barely gave you the opportunity. You just smiled however, turning over when he nudged you, pressing the fat of your ass against him. Neuvilette groaned, handing running up and down your shoulders as he leaned forward. His tongue ran up the nape of your neck, his teeth threatening to break your skin as he bit into it. You whined, rubbing further against him.

Neuvilette hummed, pulling back on his hunches as he spread your cheeks. Your hole slowly clenched in on itself, the beginnings of your excitement leaking. You bite your lips as you felt Neuvilette’s finger push into you, hands gripping the bedsheet for stability. Your walls were wet, but not quite ready. He was gentle at first, allowing you to grow comfortable as always before pushing them in and out. You could feel his dull nails so gently curl into you, mind becoming a haze as you rocked into him. Meeting the movements of his hand, he rubbed your back.

“Mon doux amour, ta chatte m'a manqué.” He cooed, massaging the spot between your shoulder blades. Your moans were muffled as you hid your face into the pillow. Neuvilette didn’t take his eyes off of you, watching your hole becoming more and more needy. It delighted him, a sick twisted feeling watching your genuine yearning for him. You huffed when you felt his fingers leave you, grumbling and wiggling your ass at him. He hummed, pressing against you again as he leaned forward. Grabbing your hair and pulling you back to look at him.

He brought his fingers to your mouth, you obeyed immediately. Sucking on them, you could taste yourself. Your eyes however remained glued to his face, watching how his eyes lidded watching you. You teased him, pulling his fingers out as you licked between them, pressing against him more meaningfully. You could feel the heat of his cock, the barbs rubbing against your soaked lips. “Ok, jolie fille. Je te donnerai ce que tu veux.” He laughed, pulling a pillow with him as he got back into position. He fluffed the pillow under your hips before moving himself to align with you. You held in a breath as he slowly pushed into you.

Your toes curled, you were sure no matter how many times you and your husband had sex nothing could compare to actually feeling him enter you. Feeling as every ridge and bump pressed into you, at times dragging on the lips of your hole before finally managing to sink in. Neuvilette stilled once he bottomed out in you. He pressed soft, wet kisses along your back as he waited for you to adjust. He was.. heavy. Thick and long with a noticeable weight to it. You already felt full, ever so uncomfortable as you let yourself settle around him. “Doing so well, My love. So well.” He praised, giving you a small roll of his hips. You hummed, taking a few more breaths before adjusting your hips.

He gave you slowly rolls of his hips before pulling in and out. His teeth clenched feeling your grip against him. It was so warm and tight, he could be more than satisfied just staying in you. But you were a greedy little thing. You wouldn’t be satisfied until he knotted you, keeping you glued against him as he filled you. Your sighs soon turned to loud moans as he sped up. Chocking on your words as you felt his barbs drag against your walls. Tingles shooting along your spine as you bit your lip.

Neuvilette’s nails moved from your hips to the bed, nails almost tearing the fine sheets as they dug in. He needed to compose himself but you felt too good. This happened too often, he always lost himself in you. One hand reached to you, grabbing your neck and stuffing your face in the pillows as the other gripped your hip. His pace was becoming harsher, he wanted to please you. To make you satisfied. And satisfied you are as tears blurred your vision, ankles lazily trying to anchor around his thighs.

Nothing but sounds of pleasure and the wet squelching of your cunt could be heard in the room. You could feel prick of his sharp nails begin to dig into your neck as they grew. Eyes rolling back as you began moving yourself. Desperately trying to match his fast pace. You needed him, it had been weeks since the last time you felt him. Only ever having toys or his mouth to use quickly. But it didn’t compare, as much as you loved his tongue. It didn’t compare to the feeling of him bloating you, completely filling you.

“Neuvi!! Please, fuck, please need more.” He grunted, brows furrowed as he worked himself into you. Both your bodies covered in a fine sheen of sweat, headboard banging against the wall. His grip on your neck didn’t tighten.. but it also didn’t loosen. He held you firm, holding you down. You could feel that familiar pressure, feeling his knot growing against you. Your hips frantic as you tried pressing it in. Neuvilette growled, a deep warning rumble from the back his throat as he tightened his grip on your hips. Your moan was pathetic and broken, tears escaping your eyes.

Neuvilette curled into you, nuzzling his face in your neck. You felt divine, absolutely divine. He wished he could keep you like this all the time. Exhausted and desperate for him. Torn between holding him closer and trying to find grounding. Drool slowly crept from your lips, pooling into the pillow below you. Neuvilette’s fangs once again pressed against you, however this time they were pressing into your skin. You struggled just a bit at the pain, the fat of his knot now hard against you. Neuvilette’s arms wrapped around you, drooling dribbling onto you. Your toes curled again, hands gripping the bedsheets as his fangs finally broke your skin.

The taste of you.. feeling your walls convulse around him. It was all too much. He pressed his knots into you, the added pressure making you yelp. You felt two of his fingers pinch your clit as you rode out your high. The pressure of him, the pressure of his fangs. They overwhelmed you, shaking against him before your body calmed. However, Neuvilette stayed glued to you, unmoving. You could feel him shiver here and there but he stayed buried in you, all of him. His fangs were first to leave you, tongue immediately wiping the blood. It smoothed the aching skin, red indents of his other teeth standing proud.

Gently, he pulled himself out of you. Deflating knot less stubborn, globs of his cum leaked out. Onto the bed sheets. Your hips sagged against the pillow holding them up. Neuvilette chuckled as he massaged your legs, helping them unclench from their position. Your arms were wobbly as you tried pushing yourself up. Neuvilette held you, rubbing his nose against yours as you both settled into the bed. Your nerves were jittery, you playfully pushed against him. “More?” You pleaded, watery eyes looking at him. Neuvilette huffed at you. “Yes, My love. But after your break. It’s been too long for your body to just immediately get back at it.” You pouted but didn’t protest further.

He was right… everything in you ached and you were sure if you cough the wrong way everything would just spill out. “ ‘m messy.” You giggled, snuggling into his arms. He hummed, giving you a squeeze before laying you all the way back. Kissing his way back down your body, tongue licking at the sweat on your skin. Your hands racked through his hair as he settled between your legs, thighs resting on his shoulders.

“Dois-je te nettoyer, ma femme?”

: ̗̀➛ This is for the lovely @theredservant . Sorry this took so long but I’m so happy I got it out to you!! Thank you everyone for your patience with me. Love you all so much, remember to drink water and stay safe!! — Ace

[lessi-lover]

Like they go out with the rest of the team but then sneak away early and just go cuddle and watch tv or something

touch starved II k.mccabe ~

summary: you have team bonding but your girlfriend is missing you ★ touch starved II k.mccabe x reader

a breezy wind meandered through your slightly open window, bringing with it a slither of the afternoon sun that creeped past your curtains. you shifted under the covers, unintentionally stirring your sleeping girlfriend lying next to you. she lay flat on her stomach, her messy hair dishevelled across the sheets.

moving your eyes to gaze at the ceiling, you mentally mapped out your day, thinking back to the series of commitments you had made with your friends, something you were sure katie would have a few words about. you gently rubbed your eyes, allowing them to adapt to the light, shutting them again as the slight glare from the sun made you wince softly.

"morning, or should i say afternoon?" you spoke, your voice a soft murmur, as your lips gently brushed her forehead with a kiss. your fingers delicately weaved through her hair, lightly scratching at her scalp. she sighed contentedly, subtly moving upwards to invite more of your comforting touch.

you watched your girlfriend as she slightly adjusted her position, moving her head off her pillow and onto the soft linen sheets. you chuckled as a sigh from the girl made a strand of her hair catch wind, before falling back down into her charming tangle of hair.

"are you staring, love?" she mumbled with a lazy smile, her thick irish accent invading your ears, snapping you out of your trance. her emerald eyes, still heavy with sleep, opened slightly, looking up at you in amusement. "perhaps." you whispered in a teasing tone, a warm grin spreading across your face.

"quit it." she grinned, a giggle leaving her lips. her arms gently lifting upwards to smack against the mattress, sending a ripple through your sheets. her movement brought her closer, her hair cascading over you like a blanket. "can't help it." you replied, your gaze still lingering on her, captivated by her soft features.

"you're impossible," she declared, voice still thick with sleep. her smile widening, as she pressed her face into the sheets. "but that's why you love me," you teased, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek, hand gently running up her back.

"mmm, one of the many reasons." she hummed, her arms moving to wrap around your waist, face now resting against your shoulder. you let yourself relax into her warmth, matching your breaths to the rhythm of her own. she inched closer, her hands clasping behind your back, bringing your chests flushed together.

"my favourite girl," she nuzzled her nose into your collarbone, chuckling when she spotted the light blush that tinted your cheeks. no matter how long you and katie had been together, you still went pink at the slightest term of endearment from the irish girl.

"always know how to make my girl blush huh?" she laughed, throwing her head backwards when your cheeks only reddened at her words. "you do. everytime." you admitted, your hands still continuing their journey through her hair. "you're so adorable when you blush." katie replied, and you felt the red hue remaining on your face deepen.

she shifted again, her body tightening around you, as she tried her best effort to pull you even closer than before. with a huff, she skillfully pulled your body over her own, guiding your body to rest on top of her. you now rested on her chest, a laugh leaving your lips as she successfully maneuvered your body.

"there. that's better." she said, in a satisfied tone, her hands finding their way around your waist, holding you in place. her body radiated heat through your thin clothes, warming your cold skin. you couldn't help but smile, your girlfriend grinning like a happy kid with chocolate.

"comfortable now?" you teased, looking down at her, faces only mere millimeters apart. "much." she replied, cheekily kissing the side of your face. "got my love right where i want her." you lay there for a moment, breathing in the unusual peace. "team night remember?" you reminded her, though a large part of you yearned to stay in bed for the rest of the afternoon.

you were fully aware that katie might be a little reluctant to go to the team bonding night, so when her following words were, "do we really have to go?" you weren't surprised in the slightest. "unfortunately yes, baby." you responded with an apologetic smile, meeting her gaze.

"we did promise the girls, and you know steph and beth were looking forward to it. they've been planning it all week." her expression was a mix of annoyance and sadness, and you could already see the pout painted on her face. "but it's so warm here, darlin. and i never get to be with you when the girls are around." she protested, her grip on you tightening as if to emphasise her point.

"i know, love." you conceded, tracing your hand over the curve of her jawline. "but think about it, -it's just for a few hours and then you can come home and have me all to yourself." she sighed heavily, her pout turning into a smirk, as she looked up at you. "okay. but you owe me some cuddles when we get home." she negotiated. "deal." you said chuckling softly. "extra cuddles for you love."

attempting to untangle yourself from her proved difficult as she tightened her arms, reluctant to let go of you. finally, with a gentle struggle, you managed to break free and get up, only to feel her quickly grasp the waistband of your shorts, pulling you back down into her with a sly grin.

"katie! you said you would get up." "i never said when darlin."

~

arriving at beth and viv's house, you could already hear the unmistakable sound of chaos from outside. you could just catch muffled voices with bursts of laughter coming from inside, and you had no doubt that jen and beth were already putting leah's new karaoke machine to good use.

you exchanged an amused glance with your girlfriend as you approached the door, the deafening voices growing louder as you walked up the steps.

as you opened the door you were immediately greeted with myles their new dog. the friendly puppy welcoming you with excitement, as he wagged his tail furiously. "hello there, my baby!" you exclaimed, bending down to give him the attention he was craving. your hands moved gently up the sides, warming up his fluffy coat.

as you scratched lightly at his ears, you felt a pair of hands pinch your hip. glancing up, you saw your girlfriends signature scowl. "only call me baby." she complained, a sternness in her voice that couldn't hide the playful glint in her eyes.

you chuckled, lifting yourself off the floor to wrap your arm around her. "of course my favourite baby," you replied, giving her a small peck on the cheek.

grabbing your wrists, she pulled your body closer, connecting your lips together. her hands raised to your chin, deepening the kiss, before she swiped her tongue over your bottom lip. you felt you stomach flip, as she played with the baby hairs on your neck. you felt your air leave your lunges, as you tried to pull away from her touch, the brunette only holding you tighter.

tapping her shoulder, she finally let you go with a small bite at your top lip. pulling back, you looked up at her spotting her smirk and flushed lips. "you mean your only baby." she corrected, a teasing grin playing on her face. "yes, my only baby." you agreed, waving your hands to try and calm your blushed cheeks.

"well, well. mrs and mrs mccabe have arrived." kyra called out, and you realised that a series of eyes were now watching you both. "shove it, cooney." your girlfriend retorted, sending a glare towards your younger teammate, sending a playful jab into her arm. "just saying," she shrugged, her aussie accent bouncing off the walls.

as you and your girlfriend delved deeper into the house, your focus now shifted to the chaos unfolding in beth and viv's kitchen. flour dusted nearly every surface, and an array of toppings lay scattered along their counter.

the kitchen was filled with your teammates, each of them immersed in creating their questionable idea of a pizza. alessia claiming that because she had italian roots, she was too supervise the pizza making, however this quickly resulted in her becoming the 'babysitter', as she found herself running around the kitchen trying to stop kyra throwing flour at the other girls.

"so you want to gently fold the dough like this." the blonde gratefully taking on the role of demonstrating how to roll the pizza, her hands working the dough skillfully, as it turned into a smooth, circular base. "you don't want to roll it too much or the dough will become too tough." she explained, although you can't say you heard all of tips over the loud singing coming from the living room.

rolling your dough between your hands, you couldn't help but laugh at the state of viv sitting on a stool, correcting everyone's pizza making techniques. her sharp insults were delivered with a mix of love and sarcasm that was classic viv.

"you're rubbish laura!" she exclaimed, hands pointing to laura's pizza which had unfortunately made its way to the floor. her cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she tried to save her dinner. giving up she shrugged it off, kim already by her side to help her clean the floor. the kitchen erupted in laughter, yourself sharing an amused look with katie.

decorating your dough, under alessia's watchful eye, a mischievous glint appeared in katie's eyes. without warning, she dipped her hand into the bag of flour and threw a handful of it in your direction. the white powder dusted your cheeks, leaving yourself in shock before you burst into a fit of laughter.

her actions lit a fire underneath your friends, their eyes lighting up and in seconds you could hear the unmistakable voice of kyra shouting out, "flour war!" instantly, the kitchen was turned from a pizza making class to battlefield, flour bombs being launched in every direction.

flour flew through the air, your teammates now covered in white dust. alessia tried her best to protest, "hey! we're making pizz-!" she yelled, but her words were barely out, before her face met the bowl of flour by lotte and all her morals went out the window.

as the flour war raged on, now beth and jen had joined in, their attention turned to steph. with sauce in hand, they ran around targeting a screaming steph, before they landed in a pile of limbs, the three of them collapsing in a heap on the floor.

you heard shouts next to you, watching as vic went down with a war cry, desperately trying to fend of a determined kyra from hitting her. darting around the kitchen, you felt sudden hand tug on the back of your jumper. your body swiftly hauled backwards into somebody's chest. you recognised the familiar hold immediately, a hand holding flour in front of your face.

"your tan is better that mine. i think you need some of this, love!"

"katie no-!"

~

settling on the couch, the group of you had spent the majority of the last few hours cleaning up the mess you had made, the remnants of your fight still visible on all your faces, with everyone exhausted from their cleaning efforts.

after much deliberation, and considering the state of the kitchen, leah suggested abandoning the homemade pizza idea, and instead just ordering a few pizza's to share. her suggestion was met with an array of agreement across the girls. except for a grumbling alessia, with her italian pride still intact, she claimed that "it's never as good as the real thing."

the movie played, the glow of the screen reflecting on all your faces. some were sprawled across the couch, the lounge adorned with pillows and blankets, yourself content in your girlfriend's arms, myles resting soundly on your lap.

as the beginning scene played, you felt katie move her body closer to your own, her lips brushing past your ear. "i'm going to grab a drink. come with me, darlin?" her question was casual, but there was a hint of something else in her eyes that suggested she wanted more than just a drink.

"sure baby." you agreed, moving the sleeping puppy of your lap, his paws padding over to vic, who welcomed him under her blanket. snacks began being passed around, yourself getting up of katie's lap, making your way to the spare bedroom, as she followed not far behind.

you began to follow her lead, the sound of your friends' laughter fading into the background, as you ventured further down the hall. katie's hand found yours, as she gently guided you through the house.

once inside the spare bedroom, katie closed the door softly behind you both, turning to face you with an affectionate smile. "what's up, love?" you asked, confused with her sudden behavior. "just wanted a moment alone with you." she said, her voice low and warm. "i haven't gotten to be with you tonight." she frowned, a small pout on her lips.

you reached out, bringing her touch - starved body closer to yours, tucking your head into the crook of her neck. she walked you forwards, your steps falling into the same pattern as her own. just as your calves brushed against the end of the bed, your girlfriend crash tackled you into the sheets.

the tackle sent you both into a fit of giggles, the sound echoing warmly against the walls. as you lay there, your limbs tangled across bed, her breath tickled your skin as she breathed in your comforting scent. her finger lifted your chin, guiding your gaze to meets hers.

as her lips ghosted over yours, there was a moment of anticipation, as if time seemed to stand still. it always felt like this with katie. then as she connected them together, it felt like a perfectly practiced dance, one of familiarity and discovery, that made you feel loved.

her tongue once again swiped against your lip, silently asking for permission, which you gave willingly. she deepened the kiss, her hand tangling in your hair, as she tried to the gap between you. it felt fueled, your breath stolen from your lungs. your teeth clashed together, and you felt her smile into the kiss.

pulling back you kissed her jawline, finger tracing over her freckles. your hands found each other, interlocking by your side. you lay there for a moment, both of you catching your lost breaths. she wrapped her legs tightly around your midsection, smiling down at you. she pressed a warm kiss to your forehead, her lips lingering before she pressed another to your cheek.

you now wrapped her hair around your own fingers, moving her hair out her face as she let out a satisfied breath, moving her hand down to rest against your hip. she placed a series of loving kisses on your chest, the thin singlet making it easy for her to access.

after a moment of comfortable silence, you broke the quiet. "we should get back to the girls, shouldn't we." you suggested, your voice soft as you gazed up at the brunette. "we don't have to." she responded with a guilty smile, her thumbs rubbing gently against your wrists.

her suggestion was tempting enough, but you could already hear the likely footsteps of your teammates outside. "katie." you begged, unable to push her off your body. she groaned, her head falling backwards, as she now seized your wrists above your head.

"katie!" you exclaimed with a gasp, as the brunette playfully belly flopped onto you. the impact of her fall knocking the air from your lungs. her laughter mixed with yours as she held you tightly. "soon, darling." she tucked her head into your chest, a content sigh leaving her lips.

suddenly a series of loud knocks interrupted your laughter, jolting you both out of the moment.

"you better be fully dressed-!"

~

[the-fiction-witch]

Cuddles P2

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Lucerys Velaryon (Age up) Couple - Lucerys X Reader Reader - Y/n (Betrothal) Rating - Smutty Word Count - 2934 Part One

They weaved in and out through the winding caves and tunnels as they tried to keep from tripping over themselves. Lucerys, for all his efforts, was finding it quite the challenge to keep up with Y/n, as she had a bit of a lead on him. He didn’t mind it much however, seeing as how he got a good view of her every once in a while as they ran through the caves.

The pair looked like madmen to the dragon keepers, giggling as they bolted up the castle steps. Lucerys was running a bit faster, but he was losing steam quickly, starting to wheeze and pant with every step. He tried his best to keep up with her, not wanting to lose the race.

"aww? Tried out Luke?" Y/n stopped at the top of the stairs turning to face him as he was almost halfway down, "it's alright take your time, I'm sure we'll get your stamina up over time!" she smirked as she grabbed the hem of her shirt dress and for a few brief seconds she pulled it up flashing him her skin, as well as the tight binding around her breasts before she dropped it down again, she winked and blew him a kiss before she continues to bolt towards her chambers.

His mouth was agape as he got a good look of her binding where she always wrapped up for a dragon ride and the skin of her stomach, the sight alone making his heart race. He growled to himself, his face beet red as he ran after her.

She was getting further and further away, and his legs were getting tired. He had a competitive fire in his stomach, however, and the image of her in her dress and her exposed stomach was just too enticing to give up now.

finally he got into the castle and he knew it wasn't far to her chambers with almost everything he had he bolted to the chamber wheezing and gasping but finally he got there and saw her sitting on her bed waiting for him having tossed her archery equipment by the door,

He stopped right at the entrance to her room, panting and wheezing loudly with every breath, trying to suck in as much air as he can. He bent over, resting his hands on his knees as he tried to steady himself, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to recover from the sprint. The sight of her made him want to run and pounce on her right then and there.

"awww you poor thing, come here" she cooed as she saw just how much he was struggling, she took his hand and let him sit in her bed with her "come here my sweetheart," she cooed wrapping her arms around him and pulling his head to lay on her chest so he could match his breathing to hers, and her hand stroking his hair,

His breathing slowed as his head leaned against her chest, listening to her heartbeat and matching it with every breath. The sound of her sweet voice was soothing, and he found himself immediately relaxing in her embrace. Her hand stroking his hair felt amazing, and he began to melt into her. His own hand snaked its way around her midsection, grasping gently as if he needed to hold onto something to keep himself grounded and a satisfied sigh escaped his lips.

"Aww that better lucerys? All nice and snug?" She cooed kissing his forehead,

He nodded, a soft smile on his face as she kissed his forehead. He nuzzled himself further into her embrace, his hand still rubbing her stomach. He closed his eyes and buried his face against her chest, listening to the soothing sound of her heart beat, as if it were a lullaby. “Mhm. This is much better.” he muttered, his voice soft and raspy from the running.

"Good, well you snuggle as close and as tight as you want!"

He took her by her word and snuggled up in her embrace tighter. His grip on her increased, to the point where she was surprised at just how much strength he used to pull her close. Despite all his previous excitement and arousal, the exhaustion of running quickly caught up to him, and the comfort of her bed combined with her arms around him made his eyelids grow heavy as a wave of drowsiness began to overwhelm him.

"humm sleepy boy" she cooed,

Despite his eyes being closed, a small smile crept across his face. The sound of her voice was like honey to his ears and filled him with the feeling of comfort. As for all his previous excitement and eagerness from their race and the possibility of what they could do, now all he wanted to do was to lay in her arms and rest against her. ”Mhm,” he muttered in agreement, his voice still soft and raspy, “just for a moment…”

"how about this, you stay awake just a couple extra minutes while I get changed okay? I'm still in my riding clothes after all. And if you stay awake till I'm changed then I promise you get to cuddle up and snuggle with me while you have a little nap, and while you're napping those hands can wander wherever they like, that a deal?"

His eyes jolted open at her proposition, a feeling of excitement surging through him all of a sudden. He was tired of course, but the idea of being allowed free reign over her body while he got to rest was too enticing to ignore. He quickly nodded his head, looking up at her with wide eyes. ”Yeah,” he said quickly, practically stumbling over the word in his eagerness. “Yeah, deal.”

Y/n chuckled and gave his cheek another kiss before she climbed off the bed, "hummm what should I wear... Not really bedtime for a nightie, but we don't want anything too thick and heavy for laying in bed" she teased as she flicked though her wardrobe

Lucerys watched her, his eyes tracing her body from his spot on the bed. He noticed that her trousers and blouse were starting to cling to her body from all the sweat from their running, and it made his eyes start to linger in certain spots. ”I don’t know,” he said slowly, his eyes still traveling up and down her body, “if it gets me more time to look at you… I don’t mind what you pick out.” he added with a smirk.

"humm... I know the perfect thing" she smiled as she picked out a dress,

His eyes widened a bit when she pulled out the black and red summer dress. It was light and thin, the perfect thing for the warm summer nights, but it left little to the imagination. He smirked as he saw it laid out before her, his eyes already taking in the contours of her body beneath the fabric. “Gods, yes,” he mumbled under his breath, his eyes still watching her as she prepared to change.

"a gentleman would turn away if a lady was charging" she teased as she began by putting her foot up on the bed and slowly unlacing her boot

He chuckled as she teased him, although he didn’t turn away. He watched her intently as she unlaced her boot, his eyes raking up her leg in a not-so-gentlemanly way. He smiled deviously as he leaned back into the bed, his arms behind his head as he got a better view of her from his lying position. “You never said I had to turn away,” he shot back with a smirk.

"no, I suppose not. After all we are going to be married soon" she chuckled slipping off her boots leaving her feet bare

He chuckled along with her, his eyes looking down at her bare feet, admiring them for a moment. They were slender and slender and smooth, and he had the sudden urge to lean forward and kiss them. He quickly snapped himself out of that thought however as he smirked playfully at her once more. “Well if we’re going to be wed then, I might as well get used to seeing you change, right?” he taunted.

"true" she smiled as she unlaced the red trousers, they where almost skin tight for her curves given the trousers were made for men and thus didn't properly fit her, she slowly tugged them off exposing her bare legs but her little shirt dress concealing her intimates

He took in her bare legs almost like a starved man staring at a feast. His eyes feasted on her exposed skin trailing up each inch exposed to him, appreciating the view he had of her legs and what was hidden beneath her shirt dress. He could feel the growing excitement within him, a feeling that only increased as she turned away to throw her trousers to the side. ”You’re a tease,” he stated bluntly, grinning as he did so, “but gods, I love it.”

she chuckled as she lifted her shirt dress over her head and tossed it with her trousers leaving her with only the binding around her chest to keep her concealed, with her bare ass him but she glanced over her shoulder to watch him looking at her

His eyes widened, His cheeks went from rosy pink to dark red as he got caught ogling her, but he didn’t care. He shamelessly looked at her, his eyes roaming over her body from behind, taking in every inch of her smooth skin. ”Seven Hells… you’re beautiful,” he muttered under his breath, his voice a combination of awe and desire.

"does it excite you?" She asked moving her hand to undo the binding slowly but surely unwrapping it from around her chest each inch it unwraps her chest getting looser and looser,

His breathing began to quicken as he watched her. His eyes darted down to her hands, following the pattern they made as she unwrapped her chest, his imagination going wild as he thought of what she would look like without it and all those layers concealing her body. ”Gods yes,” he said, his voice a bit shaky as he watched her, “you have no idea how much.” His eyes never once left her body, not even to blink it seemed as he fixated on her every move.

she chuckled "I'm sure I have some Idea Luke" she teased her eyes meeting with the very obvious bulge in his trousers

He swallowed as her eyes flicked between his and the tent in his pants. He knew it was there, as it has been there ever since they raced. He could feel himself growing more and more excited the more her body was exposed. He wanted to pounce on her right there and then, and only sheer force of will and her promise of him being able to have free reign of her body held him back from doing so. “Tease,” he replied back, panting slightly as he watched her hands work the binding.

"maybe" she smiled as she finally Finished with her binding leaving her completely exposed her whole self to him,

He practically had to pick his jaw up off the floor as the last piece of her binding came off. His eyes widened, staring with his mouth hung open in awe. She was beautiful, he already knew it, but now in this moment, seeing her completely exposed, he thought she was the most beautiful thing in all of Westeros. It was as if he was staring at a work of art, he couldn’t bring himself to speak for a few moments. “Gods… you’re…” he started to say, but the words seemed to get stuck in his throat. His mouth hung open for a few more seconds as he stared at her, trying to work up the words to describe how he felt in that moment. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and he had to force himself not to jump from the bed and take her right then and there. But he stayed, letting his eyes drink in the wonderful sight before him, of her gorgeous hair, stunning face, sweet slender neck, perfect perky breasts, sweet waist, ravishing hips, an immaculate cunt, precious thighs, and long beautiful legs. "Gods, you're perfect," he finally whispered, his voice filled with reverence.

"awww your too sweet Luke" she laughed, As she stood with her arms behind her back making sure he got a good view of every inch of her body, "You excited? That this is the body you'll be married to?"

“I- I will thank the gods daily, for the honour of being married to you. And your… Captivating body,”

Y/n chuckled grabbing the dress she picked out and tossing it over her head slipping it on, the dress just met her knees, no sleeves, and was thin enough he could see every curve, she smiled and gave him a little twirl "this one nice?"

Lucerys couldn't help but watch her the way it hugged every curve of her body. His eyes practically followed her every movement as the dress went on her body, and when she spun around to show it off, he had to swallow back the lump in his throat and force himself to keep breathing regularly. "Gods yes," he said with an almost strangled voice, his eyes never leaving her body, "definitely this one."

"you ready for a cuddle?"

”Yeah, yeah, I’m ready,” he replied, a smile on his face, “and more than ready to have my hands on you.”

Y/n chuckled as she came and sat on the bed her back against the headboard opening her arms for him to come cuddle her

He quickly and eagerly scooted over to her, practically falling into her arms. His body pressed up against hers, his hand snaking around her waist as he laid his head against her chest. He wrapped his arms around her tighter, holding her body snug and close to his, his face resting just above her breasts.

she laughed a little at him "Egar aren't you, I see where Arrax gets it from when he's cuddled up with Silverspike"

He chuckled, ”Well it’s not everyday I get to cuddle against the most beautiful woman in Westeros, you know,” he replied, nuzzling his face further into her chest and taking a deep breath. Her scent was intoxicating, and it only increased his hunger to be even closer to her.

"awww your so sweet" she cooed kissing his forehead

He smiled at the feeling of her lips on his skin, enjoying the sweet gesture despite his own hunger. While his body was begging to ravish her right there and then, he found himself enjoying this moment of tenderness between them as well. He buried his face deeper into her chest, his eyes fluttering closed as he savored the feeling of her body against his.

"you enjoying your little snuggle?" she broke the silence after a good while,

He nodded into her chest, his arms still wrapped tight around her, holding her body close to his. Her voice was soft and soothing, almost like a song that beckoned him to fall asleep, but he refused to give in just yet despite how tired he was. “Mhm. It’s perfect,” he mumbled against her chest, his face pressed into her flesh as he nuzzled into her.

"good, you enjoy it sweetheart. And remember our deal you can cuddle and kiss and touch whatever you'd like to have only to ask"

A feeling of excitement washed over him as she reminded him of their deal, and his mind immediately went crazy with thoughts of all the things he could do to her and where he would start. His hand began to wander, gently caressing her stomach as he mumbled against her chest. “I know,” he whispered, his voice still raspy and a bit shaky, “but I don’t know where to start first…”

"whatever you'd like too" she cooed "anywhere that might help this poor tense boy" she cooed stroking her hand across his hip and then over the bulge that had formed

He exhaled deeply, a shaky breath escaping his lips as her hand moved over his hips, now mere inches away from the tent that was already forming in his pants. His hand stopped caressing her stomach as he grew more and more tense, his muscles growing taut as his excitement began to build. “Gods, don’t tease…” he mumbled, his body practically shivering at her touch, “I don’t think I’ll last long otherwise…”

"I won't tease, I won't touch, it's all up to you" she smiled moving her hands to simply play with his hair

He practically groaned at her words, both in frustration and in anticipation. On one hand, he was already growing impatient with her gentle teasing, his frustration rising as she kept refusing to touch him where he wanted. But on the other hand, he knew that she was only doing this to drive him crazy, and the thought of her in control made him even more excited. He took a deep breath, steadying himself, and leaned into her touch as she ran her hands through his hair. “Gods you’re cruel…” he said with a hoarse voice. He closed his eyes as she continued to play with his hair, his body relaxing into her touch. But his mind was still racing, still consumed by thoughts of her body and the desire to touch her. His hand on her stomach had started to wander again, gently tracing the outline of her curves. “I want to touch you…” he muttered after a moment, his voice thick with desire, “I want to touch you everywhere….”

"of course, that was our deal you can touch anything you like so long as you ask"

[meazalykov]

halloween costume

laura freigang x actress!reader

summary: while going to a party with your fiancee, she starts to tease you about a reoccurring event

the sound of laughter and chatter fills the air as you step out of the car, hand in hand with laura. 

the crisp october air nips at your skin, but the warmth from your fiancée’s presence makes it bearable. you squeeze laura’s hand, flashing her a grin as the two of you approach the house where one of her teammates is hosting the huge halloween party.

"are you ready?" laura asks, her german accent smooth as ever, a playful smile tugging at her lips. 

she's dressed as a pirate, a leather vest hugging her athletic frame, a bandana tied around her dark blonde hair.

you’re dressed as a pirate as well, nearly identical to laura. 

"i think the real question is if you are," you tease, tugging at the collar of her vest. "after all, you’re frankfurt’s football star here. i’m just here for the snacks."

laura chuckles, eyes sparkling as she leans down to press a soft kiss to your temple. "you’re way more than that," she whispers, and you can’t help but blush a little. 

the party is packed, as expected. frankfurt players, local celebrities, and plenty of people from town crowd the house and yard, all dressed up in elaborate costumes. 

the energy is infectious, and you can’t help but feel excited. it’s been a while since you had time to just relax and enjoy yourself. with filming starting again in january, this time with laura is precious.

"look at all these costumes," you say, scanning the room as you walk inside. "everyone really went all out."

laura hums in agreement, her eyes also darting around the room. "there’s a lot of ghost faces too, huh?"

you snicker at her observation. it’s only been eight months since your portrayal of ghost face in the newest scream movie hit theaters, and clearly, the character has made quite an impression.

“maybe they’re trying to pay homage to me,” you joke, though there’s a proud twinkle in your eye. laura just smirks at your playful confidence.

as you weave through the crowd, you suddenly spot someone wearing a ghost face robe, a wig matching your hair color, and sfx makeup that looks eerily familiar to the scene where your character was killed.

"laura, look at that," you nudge her with your elbow, pointing at the person. "they look just like drew in the movie!"

drew was the name of your character.

laura glances over and bursts into laughter, clutching her side. "oh my god, they really do!"

you can’t help but join her, your laughter mixing with hers. it’s surreal and flattering all at once. 

you played ghost face in that movie, but it wasn’t just the mask — it was you underneath, with the same hair, the same body language. and now, here someone is, practically a carbon copy.

"that’s insane," you shake your head, amused. "guess i’m more popular than i thought."

"you’re the actress the world loves, babe," laura says with a wink. 

"germany might adore me, but you’re on a whole other level."

"oh, stop it," you say, lightly swatting at her arm. "you know this crowd loves you just as much, if not more."

you aren’t lying. the attention you receive in germany isn’t as much as laura gets. most of your fans are english or american.

as the night goes on, the two of you bump into some of laura’s teammates, including nicole, who’s wearing a nice indiana fever costume.

"y/n!" nicole calls, waving as she approaches you with a bright smile. 

"i see there’s no shortage of ghost faces here tonight. i think everyone’s obsessed with your character!"

"honestly, it’s insane," you laugh. 

"i’ve seen at least five already. not sure how i feel about it."

nicole grins, her eyes scanning the room. "oh, speaking of, one’s coming your way right now."

you turn your head just in time to see another ghost face making their way toward you, the familiar black robe swaying with each step. 

this one’s holding their phone out in front of them, clearly looking a bit nervous but determined.

"hi y/n, i’m so sorry to interrupt, but i’m a huge fan," they say, their voice muffled under the mask. 

"can i get a picture with you? your portrayal of ghost face was amazing."

a soft smile tugs at your lips. "of course," you reply, always happy to meet fans who appreciate your work. 

"thank you so much for the kind words."

you stand beside them as they pull out their phone and take off their mask, posing for a quick picture. 

laura watches the whole exchange with a playful glint in her eyes. as soon as the fan walks away, she can’t resist.

“oh my god, y/n, i’m such a big fan! can i get, like, ten pictures with you please?” laura dramatically gasps, pretending to fawn over you as she pulls out her film camera, taking on the role of an exaggerated fan.

you burst out laughing, rolling your eyes at her theatrics. "laura, calm down," you giggle, trying to wave her off, but she’s already snapped a few shots of you.

"no, no, seriously, i’m your biggest fan!" she continues, mock gasping and throwing her hands up. 

"i’ll even frame them in the apartment! please, just a few more!"

"okay, okay, that’s enough," you laugh, swatting at her camera. "you’re going to run out of film if you keep this up."

but laura’s grinning, clearly having way too much fun with her impromptu photoshoot. 

"oh come on, y/n, you know i’m your biggest supporter. it’s not every day i get to party with a horror icon."

you roll your eyes affectionately. "i swear, you’re worse than my fans."

“it’s just ‘cause i’m marrying a horror icon,” she teases, slinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. 

“and don’t pretend you don’t love it.”

you smile, leaning into her touch. "okay, maybe i do love it. just a little."

"thought so," laura smirks, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

"you’re stuck with me and my endless teasing." she whispers against your lips.

"i wouldn’t have it any other way," you admit softly, feeling the warmth of her embrace as the night continues around you. 

masterlist

happy halloween 🎃