#A Concession of Passion

[maturemenoftvandfilms]

The Senator From Montana

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: A Concession of Passion

Featuring Jon Tester

The air was crisp in Great Falls, Montana, as the sun began to set on November 6, 2024. The crowd gathered at the Civic Center was a mix of supporters, family, and press, all awaiting Senator Jon Tester's concession speech. The election results were clear; Republican Tim Sheehy had won the Senate seat.

Jon Tester, a robust man with the weathered look of someone who's spent a lifetime in the Montana fields, took the stage, his face a mask of disappointment but with an underlying strength. He spoke of his gratitude, his commitment to Montana, and his acceptance of the voters' decision. His words were met with applause, some with tears, others with a resigned nod.

As the crowd dispersed, the weight of the concession settled on Tester. Walking back to his campaign office, his steps were heavy, each one echoing the end of an era. But waiting for him was Jack Lucas, his male executive assistant, whose presence had always been a source of comfort and more. Jack, with his sharp suit and even sharper eyes, locked the door behind them, ensuring privacy.

"You did what you could, Jon," he said softly, stepping closer, his hand reaching out to touch Tester's arm, a gesture of comfort that carried the weight of something more intimate.

"I know, Jack, but it's hard to let go," Tester replied, his voice low, his eyes searching Jack's for the solace he desperately needed.

“I feel like getting my dick sucked. You want to suck the cock of an old dirt farmer?” Jon's voice was rough, laced with the gravel of his rural Montanan roots, as he unzipped his fly with a practiced ease. His jeans, worn and faded from years of hard work, slid down just enough to reveal his boxers. He pulled out his cock, not yet hard, a testament to his defeat but still impressive, nestled in a thatch of dark, curly hair.

“Ain’t much to it today. Guess the loss took all the starch out of it. But I’m sure you can make it hard,” he said, giving his member a casual wave.

Jack, with his stocky, athletic build, was eager to shift Jon's focus from political loss to physical pleasure. He knelt before Jon, his lips parting to envelop Jon’s soft cock, his tongue swirling around the tip with expert precision.

"Yea, I could use a little pleasure," Jon murmured, his voice a rumble of anticipation. "Maybe it’ll help me think of something other than losing my senate seat."

As Jack worked, Jon's cock grew, hardening, filling out to its full eight inches, thick and veined, the head turning a deep, lustful red.

“That feels damn right good. Swallow it all the way. I know you can do it,” Jon urged, his hands guiding Jack’s head with a mix of strength and care.

Jon's cock was a sight to behold, a column of flesh that seemed to pulse with life. Jack managed to take it all, his throat accommodating the girth, feeling the senator's pulse against his tongue. Jon's hand in Jack’s hair was firm, controlling the rhythm of his thrusts until he abruptly withdrew.

“Come on, Lucas, let's find a room. I want to fuck you,” Jon commanded, his voice thick with desire.

In the privacy of their chosen room, he instructed, "Take off all your clothes," his own plaid shirt and jeans soon discarded, revealing his robust, slightly hairy chest and the hard lines of his belly.

As Jack unbuttoned his shirt, his eyes lingered on Jon's belly, imagining the warmth and firmness pressed against his cheek. The sight of Jon pulling down his boxers, revealing his thick, now fully erect cock, and the heavy, low-hanging balls beneath, was almost too much.

“Get on the bed,” Jon ordered as Jack stepped out of his underwear, his own cock bobbing eagerly.

Jack lay back on the crisp white sheets, and Jon straddled him, his back to Jack's face, presenting his muscular, round ass. Jon leaned back, his asshole descending towards Jack's eager mouth. “Lick my asshole!” Jon commanded with the authority of a man used to giving orders. Jack's tongue met the tender, pink bud, tasting the bitter, earthy essence of Jon. Jon's sigh was deep, resonant, his body relaxing into the sensation. Jack's tongue danced around Jon's hole, then delved in, his hands spreading Jon's cheeks apart to delve deeper.

“Oh! Yea!” Jon's shout was loud, filled with raw pleasure.

“Fuck yeah! Fuck wonderful!” He grabbed Jack's cock, his grip firm as he jerked him off.

“Stick it deeper!” Jon demanded, his body hunching involuntarily with each flick of Jack's tongue.

Suddenly, Jon spun around, lifting Jack's legs, exposing him completely. He positioned himself between Jack's legs, his large hands gripping Jack's thighs with a strength that belied his age. Jack felt the heat of Jon's cock against his entrance. Jon didn't waste time; he spat into his hand, lubing himself up with a rough efficiency.

With a grunt, Jon pushed inside Jack, the sensation causing both to gasp. Jon's cock slid in to the hilt, his low-hanging balls slapping against Jack with each thrust. The room was filled with the sounds of their bodies moving together, the slap of skin, the groans of pleasure, and the occasional curse from Jon, who seemed to find a particular joy in the raw, unfiltered expression of his desire.

“Fuck me, Jon. Give it to me,” Jack cried, his eyes locked on Jon’s weathered, handsome face. He wanted to remember this moment, this connection. Jack's hands roamed over Jon's back, feeling the muscles tense and relax with each movement.

“You like having my cock up your ass?” Jon panted, his rhythm becoming more erratic as he neared his climax. Jack, overwhelmed by the intensity, could only nod, his own release building.

“You're a good man, Lucas. A real good man!” Jon growled, pulling back to the tip before ramming home again.

“Damn if your asshole isn’t hotter than Sharla’s pussy,” he admitted, his strokes becoming more forceful, driving Jack into a frenzy of bucking and moaning.

Amidst this intense coupling, Jon leaned down, capturing Jack's mouth in a kiss fierce with passion, their tongues battling. Then, with a guttural groan, Jon came inside Jack, his orgasm shaking his large frame. The kiss persisted, passionate and unyielding, even as Jon's climax subsided. Jack wrapped his legs around Jon, not wanting to lose the connection, the intimacy.

Jon slid down, taking Jack's cock in his mouth, his eyes never leaving Jack's, his movements deliberate and skilled. Just before Jack could reach his peak, Jon pulled away, straddling him. He guided Jack's cock to his ass, lowering himself with a groan that spoke volumes of his desire. Jack's hands spread Jon's cheeks, feeling the tight clench around his shaft. Jon's body moved with a surprising grace, up and down, his heavy body a beautiful contrast to the raw act they were engaged in.

When Jack came, it was with a cry that mingled with Jon's deeper groan as his release filled Jon, their bodies shuddering together in the aftermath.

Afterward, they lay there, catching their breath, the reality of what had just transpired settling in. Jon rolled off Jack, his body heavy with satisfaction. He reached for his clothes, the moment of intimacy fading back into the world of politics and public life.

“I’m gonna miss this, Lucas,” Jon said, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable. He pulled Jack into a brief, tight embrace before standing, his movements slow, as if he wanted to stay in this moment just a little longer.

As he dressed, he glanced back at Jack, who was watching him with a mix of admiration and sadness. “Keep in touch, alright? Maybe when the dust settles, we can find some more time for… this.”

With that, Jon left, leaving Jack with the lingering warmth of their encounter and the echo of his words, a promise of perhaps more to come, in a world where everything was about to change.

Note: This narrative is entirely fictional and meant for entertainment purposes. It does not imply or suggest any real-life events, behaviors, or relationships involving Jon Tester, Jack Lucas, or any other real person.

[ducktracy]

I NEVER POSTED THIS WHAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AHHHHHHH

ok i drew this back in September 2022 when i was doing a passive rewatch of every Porky and Daffy short in chronological order while i was working--drawn because i RRRRREEEALLY love how accepting and often enabling the early Porky is with the early Daffy’s hysteria. there's something genuinely sweet and funny about Porky just sort of chalking him up to his esoteric, silly little friend (esoteric, silly little friend is causing horrific atrocities). especially refreshing in an age where modern material seems to completely reduce Porky's tolerance for Daffy's screwiness (but a bit understandably so)

[jjjjisun]

Wild Swing

Asa X Male OC | 3118 words

TW: Incest

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Buy me a Ko-Fi.

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Request from Discord: Asa's big brother is a baseball player who plays where ASA's girl group is performing. Asa wasn't attracted to her big bro in any way until she saw him playing, his muscles popping while he swung his bat and such. So, for some reason, she got hot looking at him and motivated him to win during a short break on the backstage.

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Author's note: If you enjoy the content and want to support it beyond the base tier, my Ko-fi now has two higher tiers: True Patron of Smut ($10) and Ultimate Supporter ($20). You’ll get the same perks as the Early Gang, but these higher tiers are for those who want to support me further, and they have discounts for commissions. Thanks!

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Author's note: DAMN. GOD-TIER MIDRIFF.

The stadium roared as Asa and her girl group, Babymonster, strutted off the field after their electrifying performance. The crowd's energy was intoxicating, but it was nothing compared to the rush of knowing her brother, Jae, was up at bat next. Asa had seen him play a thousand times, but today, under the bright stadium lights, she felt a strange flutter in her chest as he stepped up to the plate.

Jae stood tall, his broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist. His muscles flexed beneath his jersey as he casually swung his bat, warming up. Asa watched, her breath hitching as those muscles popped with each swing. She had always known he was strong, but seeing him like this, raw and powerful, was doing something to her she hadn't expected. She felt a warmth spread through her, a heat that pooled low in her belly.

Jae turned his head slightly, his eyes finding hers in the crowd. Asa's heart pounded as their gazes locked. There was something in his eyes, a knowing look that sent a thrill down her spine. He had caught her looking and knew that look on her face. She was no longer just his little sister cheering him on; she was a woman who found him attractive.

Asa's cheeks flushed, but she didn't look away. Instead, she let her eyes wander over him, taking every inch of his athletic form. She watched as he adjusted his stance, the way his thighs strained against his pants. She imagined those thighs between hers, his strong arms wrapping around her. Her breath hitched at the thought, a soft gasp escaping her lips.

Jae's eyes darkened, and Asa could see their desire even from a distance. He swung the bat again, this time with more force, as if channeling his sudden surge of energy. The crowd cheered, but Asa barely heard them. All she could focus on was how Jae's body moved, the promise of power and passion in every swing.

She shifted in her seat, pressing her thighs together to ease the ache building between them. Her heart raced as she imagined Jae's hands on her, his mouth exploring her skin. She wanted to feel his strength, to have those muscles she had admired flexing above her, beneath her, behind her.

Jae stepped up to the plate, his eyes never leaving hers. The pitcher threw the ball, but Jae didn't swing. He took the strike, his gaze still locked on Asa. It was as if he was telling her he knew her secret and saw her desire. And he wanted her to know he felt it, too.

Asa's breath hitched, her heart pounding wildly. This was new, and this was dangerous, but it was also thrilling. She had never seen Jae like this or allowed herself to feel this way about him. But now that she had, she couldn't look away. She didn't want to. She wanted to explore this feeling, to see where it led. And from the look in Jae's eyes, she knew he felt the same.

Asa's heart was still pounding long after Jae's intense gaze had released her. She knew she had to see him, to confront this sudden and consuming desire that had sparked between them. During the short break, she texted him, her fingers trembling slightly as she typed, "Meet me by the women's restroom near the concession stand." She hit send, her breath hitching as she slipped her phone back into her pocket.

She made her way through the crowded stadium, her mind racing. She had seen Jae play countless times and had cheered him on from the stands more times than she could remember. But today had been different. Today, she had seen him not just as her brother but as a man—a powerful, passionate man who had ignited something within her that she couldn't ignore.

When she arrived, Jae was already there, leaning against the wall opposite the restroom. His arms were crossed over his broad chest, his eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on her. Asa's steps faltered momentarily, her breath catching as she took him in. Up close, he was even more intimidating, his presence even more commanding.

He said nothing. His arms still crossed and his gaze pinning her in place.

When she reached him, before either could say anything, she grabbed his shirt and dragged him into the restroom. The room was thankfully empty, and the sound of the crowd was muffled behind the closed door. Jae's eyes widened in surprise, but he didn't resist.

Asa turned to face him, her back pressed against the door. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, could see the rise and fall of his chest as his breath came faster. She looked up into his eyes, seeing the reflection of her desire staring back at her.

"Asa," Jae began, his voice low and rough. But she didn't want to talk. She didn't want to analyze or discuss what was happening between them. She just wanted to feel.

She reached up, her hands grasping the back of his neck as she pulled him down to her. Their lips met in a fiery, hurried clash of lips and teeth that revealed the needs inside them. Their desire was almost taztable. Jae groaned, his arms snaking around her waist as he pressed her firmly to him. She could feel his hard cock grinding against her stomach, sending a rush of heat between her legs.

Someone tried to open the door, and she let out a little "oh," and Jae grinned at her, pulled her two steps away, and told the woman trying to open the door, "Closed for repair," in a voice that made all four giggle like schoolgirls.

As their mouths met again with a lusty to entwine wanton need. Their need was so deep and raw as they explored each other. His fingers were strong and sure as they ran her cheek. Her breasts were round and soft as he cupped one, as his fingers touched her nipple through her shirt so softly, but the sensation was like sa lamming climax. She cried out, her back arching her need.

Her moan and their gasping breaths echoed in the small tiled room, the sound of their raw passion a better turn-on than any dirty talk, any music, any sounds.

He reached her side and unzipped her skirt. It dropped so fast she gasped. His grin was one of surprise and even deeper need as his eyes roved over her body. She was still just his adorable sister, and a thousand times, he still saw that kid's face through the years as if it were still in her eyes. With a warm heart and with a gentle hand, he brushed his fingers through her hair. They both gasped as their lips crushed together, but this time there was no rush, there was no hurry, there was nothing but their naked upper bodies, pressed closer and closer. His strong hands grasped her soft behind. Her hard, bare breasts rubbed against his rock-hard pecs and his chest hair, the cleft so deep it seemed like her little tip wanting to dive into the depths of that divide.

His mouth covered her bare breast, he drew it in, sucking it, the contrast to his strong body and yet sucking her lemon-sized breast tenderly into his mouth He moaned as her hands cupping his head to her breast.

Reaching the waistband of her panties, he yanked them down, the thin spandex ripping in the frenzy. She cried out from his harsh touch of ripped panties, but didn't care. But it didn't hurt. It was a release, being freed like that by this powerful, deliberate man, who can walk in the room with that power and control and choose to take her and have her as his.

He hoisted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist. Reaching behind her, he palmed her buttocks, his muscles flexing, scandalizing her with his brute strength, his crass handling of her most tender parts.

Using his other hand, he unbuttoned his pants, freeing his hard cock. With Asa’s sheath splayed wide and ready, Jae plowed into her, Asa’s wet pink center sure and firm.

She bit his shoulder. He growled. She tightened her body to his.

Her mouth swallowed each of his deep groans. They were in a public place, and she could hear voices outside the door. While she had never been an exhibitionist, that fear was adding fuel to this need.

His strong biceps supported her. Asa felt this power. "Oppa, I trust you, I can do this," she leaned backward, her body bent like a bow, her chest toward the ceiling. He grabbed her waist with his hands, no longer being so polite. He began deep strokes, in and out, like a piston. The speed of the slamming, professional and deeper caused each thrust to vibrate through her body. For a moment, she thought she might collapse from the tremblings at this assault to her core, but this man would never let her fall, she knew it, she could feel it. She just gave into his power and rode up to the heights of all she was, all she could bear.

Their eyes connected as he kept her locked to him so closely.

Both of them had equally crazed feelings, but it was not just then that they realized they had needed each other for many years. And now, only now, in this crazy public, amazing place, were they finally able to express their feelings and depth to one another.

At that moment, it stretched to the maximum, and they didn't notice everyone cheering on the other side of the stadium. At this side, it was all orgasm. And it was all ecstasy. And it was all big brother and sister against the walls, against the sides, up against the sinks, inside the stalls doing everything they could for each other. They were locked into each other, and the entire world could have exploded around them, and they would not have noticed. It was about them. No one else, just the two.

He pumped her faster and faster, those huge biceps finally putting in the work, his speed increasing and increasing. He was a major league baseball player. He lives his days to drive his body to the absolute heights he can push it. And now her presence was driving him to use his body like it had never before experienced. This body trains day in and day out for a living, and yet his breathing began to sputter, his chest began to pant, and his powerful thighs started to wobble like Jell-O. Faster and faster, he plowed into her, into his sister bent back so far, waving her body like a flag in the wind at full mast. Her chin was pointed upward, her mouth gaping open, and the purest vocalizations of climbing creation were screaming from her little sister's pants.

Faster, and deeper, and faster, and she was gone. Her body stiffened. Her hands tried to dig into the tile walls, her fingernails scraping down the tiles, trying to find anything to grab onto.

Still, he pummeled. Now her cries were inhuman. It was all pain, unbelievable pleasure, and screams of ferocious noise. No more sisterly niceties; this the big leagues. This was the superbowl and her was grand final. This was the 100-yard home run for a touchdown in the 10th inning of overtime. These were the wails, screams, and yells of all human history combined into one last drive into her core. Their teary eyes locked. Both of their bodies wracked with spasms, completely uncontrolled, and finally his mouth searching for hers, finding hers, and sucking every cry and scream out of her body to silenced and safe release shudders.

Into each other they panted. The grip on her buttocks began to tremble, he began to slide, and his knees began to buckle.

He caught his breath, and when he was again stable, he slid her down, her buttocks, sliding with such smoothness his arm like an escalator. And then there they stood. Both still breathing hard. Both of their bodies were a wreck and in ecstasy, and then, looking into each other's eyes, they both burst into laughter. Their bodies wracked with laughter almost as hard as the pounding. But they both thought the same thing: "I need a break! I am out of shape for this game."

Finally, laughing into his pecs, she said, "I forgot how good that feels." And they kissed once more, brimming with the joy of their discovery.

Asa and Jae leaned against the bathroom wall, their bodies still trembling from the intensity of their encounter. Asa looked up at Jae, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. "Oppa, what are we doing?" she whispered, her voice hoarse from her previous screams of pleasure.

Jae cupped her face, his thumb brushing gently against her cheek. "Something we should have done a long time ago," he said, his voice steady and sure. He looked into her eyes, his own filled with a warmth she had never seen before. "Asa, I have always wanted you. But there's something you should know about me."

Asa tilted her head, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. "What is it?" she asked, her heart pounding.

Jae took a deep breath, his cheeks flushing slightly. "I have a kink, Asa. I have always had a thing for... your midriff." He looked down, his eyes tracing the curves of her waist, her belly button, the flat plane of her stomach. "I have always wanted to worship, kiss, and lick it."

Asa's breath hitched, her stomach fluttering at his words. She had never known this or imagined that her brother had such desires. But the look in his eyes, the raw need in his voice, ignited something within her. She wanted to give him what he desired, to fulfill his fantasies.

She took his hand, leading him to the floor. She lay down on her back, her body still flushed and naked from their previous encounter. Jae looked down at her, his eyes wide with surprise and desire. "Asa," he began, but she cut him off.

"Do what you want, Oppa," she said, her voice breathless. "Worship me."

Jae groaned, his body shaking with need. He lay down beside her, his head at her feet, his feet at her head. His hands grasped her hips, his fingers tracing the curves of her waist, the flat plane of her stomach. Asa gasped, her body arching as his lips pressed against her belly button, his tongue dipping in, tasting her, teasing her.

She could see his cock, hard and ready, just inches from her face. She grasped it, her fingers wrapping around his length, feeling the velvety smoothness of his skin. Jae groaned against her stomach, the vibrations sending shivers down her spine. She leaned forward, her tongue licking the tip of his cock, tasting the saltiness of his pre-cum.

Jae's body shuddered, his hips jerking as she took him into her mouth. He groaned against her stomach, his lips and tongue worshipping her midriff, just like he had always wanted. Asa moaned, the sound vibrating around his cock, making him groan even louder.

Their bodies writhed together, their mouths and tongues exploring each other's most intimate places. Asa could feel the pleasure building, her body trembling with each lick, each suck, each nibble of Jae's mouth. Jae's hips jerked, his cock thrusting in and out of her mouth, his breath coming in fast pants.

Suddenly, Jae pulled away, his body shaking with need. He sat up, pulling Asa with him. His eyes were dark with desire, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He sat on the toilet, his cock hard and ready, pointing straight up. Asa looked at him, her body aching with need.

"Ride me, Asa," he said, his voice rough with desire. "Ride, move your hips like you do it in choreo."

Asa gasped, her body throbbing at his words. She straddled him, her legs wrapping around his waist, her breasts pressing against his chest. She could feel his heart pounding, could see the pulse at his neck throbbing with desire. She reached down, her hand grasping his cock, guiding it to her entrance.

She slid down onto him, both of them groaning as he filled her. She began to ride him, her body bouncing up and down, her breasts jiggling with each movement. Jae groaned, his hands grasping her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh.

Their bodies moved together, their breaths coming in sync, their hearts pounding. Asa could feel the pleasure building, her body trembling with each thrust, each grind, each bounce. Jae's body was shaking, his hips jerking up to meet hers, his cock thrusting deep into her.

Suddenly, Jae's body tensed, his hips jerking up one last time as he came, his seed spilling deep into her. Asa cried out, her body convulsing as she too came, her pleasure washing over her in waves. She collapsed onto him, her body limp, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She looked down at herself and chuckled.

"Our mess will be... hard to clean up."

She could feel his cum leaking out of her, could see the mess it had made on her thighs, her makeup smudged and ruined. But she didn't care. All she cared about was the man beneath her, the man who had just given her the most intense pleasure of her life.

Jae looked up at her, his eyes filled with a warmth and love she had never seen before. He cupped her face, his thumb brushing gently against her cheek. He pulled her down to him and kissed her full on the lips, the passion, heart and soul, and happy to be her boyfriend in one head-swirling, life-changing press of the lips.

"I love you, Asa," he whispered against her lips. "I always have. And I always will."

Asa's heart swelled, her eyes filling with tears. "I love you too, Oppa," she whispered back. "I always have. And I always will."

They stayed like that, their bodies entwined, their hearts beating. They had crossed a line, had done something they could never take back. But as they sat there, their bodies still trembling with the aftermath of their passion, they knew they wouldn't have it any other way. They had found something in each other's arms, something they had been searching for their whole lives: love, passion, acceptance. And they would hold onto it, no matter what the future held.

[pinkslipxox]

Fitting Room Fling:

Summary: Billie eats you out in a fitting room 🥵❤️

Warnings: smut 🙈🥰😘

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As you stroll through the mall, the air buzzes with excitement, filled with the chatter of fellow shoppers and the enticing aroma of fresh coffee wafting from a nearby café. Your hand intertwines with Billie’s, the warmth of her grasp grounding you as you move in and out from store to store. Shopping is your passion, and today, with Billie by your side, every moment feels like a little slice of heaven.

So far, you are quite happy with your purchases— new makeup from Sephora, a purse from Coach, two sunglasses from Prada, and four pairs of shoes from Louis Voiutton. Although you’ve insisted that you pay yourself, Billie, ever the gentleman, ensures that your material needs are paid for before you can even protest.

“Please, Bills… one more store,” you plead, pulling her arm as you walk towards the boutique.

Billie gently tugs back, her brows knitting in concern. “Babe, we really need to keep an eye on the time,” she says firmly but she keeps her voice soft. “I have to be at the studio soon.”

You pout slightly, feeling a mix of disappointment and determination. “Just one more store, please? I promise it won’t take long!”

With a sigh, Billie pulls her phone out and checks the time. “Alright, alright, but we’re leaving in fifteen minutes,” she concedes, much to your delight, and a grin spreads across your face, and your heart warms at her concession.

The two of you head inside the next boutique, decorated with soft hues and high-end threads. You browse the racks, inspired by each gorgeous piece of clothing. As you look through the clothing, you can feel Billie’s presence behind you. You can’t help but feel a little guilty, knowing that time is not entirely on your side.

Finally, you find a stunning dress—a flowing, ethereal piece that seems to shine under the boutique lights. “Billie! Look at this!” You hold it up, your excitement unmistakable. Her gaze travels from the dress to your beaming face, and for a moment, her impatience fades, replaced by a softness that is unmistakably hers.

“It’s beautiful, Y/N,” she praises, and there’s a spark in her voice that tells you how much she loves seeing you happy. “But we really should—”

“Just a quick try-on? Please, Billie?” you plead, already making your way to the fitting room before she can finish her sentence.

You slip into the dress, the material sliding against your skin. It feels luxurious and you admire your reflection, twirling slightly to catch the way it flows. The dress clings to your curves perfectly and it accentuates a delicate hint of cleavage. You love it. And you’re positive that Billie will love it as well.

“Y/N!” Billie’s voice echoes inside the fitting room, and there is a hint of urgency mixed with her usually affectionate tone in her voice. You hear her footsteps walk towards the room that you’re in, and she knocks on the door. “Come on, we have to go! Finneas will kick my ass if I’m late.”

Taking a deep breath, you unlock the door, and you find yourself standing face to face with your girlfriend. Billie’s breath hitches and she looks at you up and down, her eyes filled with admiration and desire.

“What do you think?” you purr, loving the reaction from your girlfriend.

“Damn,” she murmurs, biting her lip. “You look incredible.” Billie’s voice is husky, practically making your heart skip a beat. She moves closer, her hands resting on your waist as she leans in, planting soft kisses along your neck and collarbone, making you melt against her.

You sigh softly, reveling in her touch and the warmth that courses through you. Certain thoughts begin to cloud your judgement. Then you remember where you are.

“Billie…” you whimper, “not here, my love. We’re in public…”

Billie only groans in response, and she takes a another step forward. You take the hint and go back inside the fitting room. The door is closed and locked behind you, leaving the two of you alone in the privacy of the small space. You find yourself pressed up against the wall, Billie’s hold on your waist tighter, and her touches more bold and deliberate.

“We’ve got time,” Billie murmurs, her voice low and warm that sends a shiver down your spine. “Bet I can make you cum in five minutes.”

Oh, you know she can.

“Can you really?” you can’t help but tease her, and Billie growls.

“Hell yeah I can, mama,” she counters, determination laced in her voice. Your heart races as her lips graze your neck, sending delightful shivers down your spine. Her kisses are soft yet possessive, trailing across your collarbone, leaving a path of warmth that makes you yearn for more.

“Then do it,” you hum, tilting your head back for access, and Billie chuckles.

“Then you’re going to have to be quiet,” she whispers in your ear, and she gently takes your earlobe between her teeth, nipping at it.

Her eyes never leave your as she sinks down to her knees. Your breath hitches in your throat as she leans in, her warm mouth exploring you with a delicious intensity. Billie grips your hips, anchoring you as she skillfully works her magic, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

“Billie, yes…” you breathe out, losing yourself in the bliss of her ministrations. She smirks against your skin, savoring each reaction, each sound that escapes you. Her tongue dances on your skin with exquisite precision, every flick and caress driving you over the edge.

You bite down on your lower lip as Billie continues to pleasure you, her mouth devouring your core oh-so-heavenly. It takes everything in you not to scream as Billie plunges her tongue deeper, exploring the softness of your folds, reveling in the taste of your intoxicating sweetness. You grip the back of her neck, urging her on, and she responds in kind, her tongue swirling deliciously on your throbbing clit.

You feel yourself nearing that sweet release, a thrill igniting deep within you. “Billie, I can’t hold on much longer,” you gasp, and she responds with a devoted intensity, pushing you completely over the edge. Billie hums in acknowledgment, the vibrations sending a jolt of ecstasy through you.

The pleasure crashes over you in waves, a beautiful symphony of bliss that fills the room, leaving you in a blissful haze. You’re breathless, your body trembling as you feel her smile against your skin, still lavishing you with tender kisses.

Once the waves of pleasure subside, Billie rises from her knees, and she molds her lips with your in a gentle yet passionate kiss. You moan softly into her mouth, tasting the lingering arousal, and she pulls back with a satisfied look on her face. God, you love this woman.

“You drive me crazy, pretty girl,” she murmurs, adoration and love evident in her voice. “But I wouldn’t trade you for the world.”

You giggle, her words making your heart flutter. Then you remember— the time! Realization hits you like a ton of bricks and you begin to panic.

“Billie… we’re late!” you gasp, but to your surprise, Billie shrugs nonchalantly.

“Fuck the studio,” she murmurs, her voice returning to a husky whisper. Then, with a smirk curling on her lips, she says, “I’d rather fuck you.”

Before you can say anything, Billie turns you around, your chest pressed against the wall. You whimper as you feel the bulge of her strap press up against your ass. All you can do is surrender, and you can’t wait for what happens next.

[phantomsies]

SACRIFICE + eren j. , chrollo l.

two musical geniuses, a jealous husband vs. an obsessed ex..and the alliance between them that you’d never thought you’d see.

📝: musician x influencer au, (this is an expansion of the original one, an au within an au), black fem reader, smut themes, implied threesome, this is an excerpt and it will make sense once I post the full fic. If nobody is fucking with the concept, we’ll just pretend this never happened 🌚

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

compromise…to settle a dispute by mutual concessions. To sacrifice and even bend for the sake of the greater good. Out of all of the intricate lyrics and enigmatic pieces composed by your husband, it wasn’t a word that had ever found mainstay in his vocabulary! For nothing, no one and especially not for a person whom he’d harbor resentment against. Or rather…hated their fucking guts with a passion! Extreme, but a far more accurate description. Although, you couldn’t blame him too much. After all, this was someone who reminded Eren not only of himself but of the harsh reality, that what once was…could always be again!

“Yeees, that’s it, gorgeous. That’s the pretty face I know..the same one you used to make when I was so deep inside of you..”

eyes trailing to the back of (y/n)‘s skull, those nimble fingers clawing into the dark silk sheets and your back raised from the mattress as your husband’s cock made what felt like permanent residence inside of those warm folds. The constant snapping of his hips with sporadic thrusts and that menacing smirk on his face: a sure fire sign that he had something to prove. He’d always fucked you like a rabid animal when he had a point to get across. When you’d angered him, when he missed you..and now, when your ex fling thought that he could make a return and swoop you out from under him. Too bad for him, that ship has long sailed and it was another man’s last name you were wearing these days. Not to mention the half a million dollar wedding ring. It was also your beloved EJ who couldn’t stop pulling orgasm after orgasm from that beautiful body..making you quiver and writhe in a fit of bliss whilst those delicious juices splattered his abs, the sheets and anything in its vicinity. The man who’d contorted your body until you folded and proceeded to drill that leaking pussy into full blown submission. All but etching his name on your insides to remind you who you belonged to. Hell, at this point, it was more consolation for himself more than anything.

“Don’t listen to that bastard, princess. Eyes on me…I’m the only one you need to focus on. Fuck him.”

but as that third climax neared and his thumb pad rolled around on your clit, Eren couldn’t help but to feel that your body was intertwined with his own but your mind resided somewhere else at the moment. That the other voice in the room had penetrated your psyche while he only held dominion over your flesh. It was a surefire way to piss him off, that was for certain. Because no matter how hard he grasped your hips, regardless of how far that fat, throbbing dick glided into you and stuffed that pretty cunt to the brim..no matter how many times you met his amazing strokes with the clap of that voluptuous ass, crying out to him for more and begging to let you squirt all over him as his rings pressed against your throat whilst tears, as well as a smile plagued your face. Or if he placed a foot on your head and fucked you reminescent of an animal as his new rival glared on. It didn’t make a difference how many times you called him ‘daddy’ or told him that he was making you feel so good; so tight that he felt as if his entire shaft was going to snap in half! Hell, you could shout to the heavens that it was all his. Anything to make him feel better..to console that already shattered ego of his. After all, it had to be pretty damn fragile to even entertain someone else when he was fucking the most beautiful woman either of them had ever laid eyes upon.

“How sad..even now, as our princess is about to come so hard for you..you can’t even grant her your full attention. And you think you’ll convince me that she’s in better hands with a man who’s so utterly selfish?”

because even as you centered his face to your own with a palm on his cheek and pleaded with him to look into your eyes as he stuffed you full of his seed..he too had accepted the fact that you were divided. Feeling defeated even now as you reach euphoria right underneath him. Because the man who had been viewing this salacious display..dark eyes glued to your nude bodies, fist clenched around that cock..stroking back and forth as veins protrude in his hands and precum seeped down the knuckles. His chest exposed as he stimulated those sensitive nipples..something his precious (y/n) had done so many times before. The man who felt more like a conductor to a salacious symphony rather than a helpless third party watching the girl he was once called his be fucked stupid by another guy..wasn’t interested in competing at all! Not when it came to music, awards shows, charts or even a seat at the proverbial table. And most certainly not for you. Even if it was a childish bet that had landed you here in the first place.

“Come now, pretty girl. Don’t hold back..you look as if you want to explode. It’s okay.”

and like that, rising to his feet ever so casually, he’d continue pumping that dick in his palm as he inched closer, snatching your face towards his own so that you could meet gazes like you did that first night you’d encountered one another. Eventually teasing the head against your plump lips and lobbing a trail of spit between them. Almost as if he wasn’t even in the room, as if it wasn’t his cock pleasuring you, (y/n) released at this man’s whim! As if he had trained you previously.

“Chrollo..” “That’s right..I’m here now, darling. Sorry to keep you waiting. Be a good girl for us and come. Don’t make him ask again.”

meanwhile, Eren could only glare as you made a mess of him, pawing at his abs and thanking him furiously for bringing you to ecstasy. But there was no need for ill will or hurt feelings. He wasn’t the enemy whatsoever. More so like an ally to his cause. Chrollo didn’t see the need in bickering when they could both enjoy you to their heart's content. When you desire them equally. A compromise. After all, it was what love and life were all about. And sadly, it didn’t seem he had a choice.

“You see, Eren. It’s what I’ve been telling you all along. If we work together, we can accomplish great things..I know our baby feels the same.”

[st-just]

The reason I can tell that on some bone-deep and fundamental level I am temperamentally a liberal is that, like -

Even if all the wonky neo-trad arguments about the declining marriage rate and the collapse in church attendance/thick inherited community obligations and etc etc were entirely correct on the object level and (to the first approximation) everyone really would be happier and more fulfilled if we ended no-fault divorce and brought back shotgun weddings and arranged marriages -

My incredibly powerful visceral reaction is no, not worth it. The dissolution of all unchosen bonds is a terminal value to be pursued for its own sake. You are a citizen of a the world and a cousin to every living soul, all else is (should be) as fleeting and contingent as your passions and whims. Concessions to reality on this are purely temporary and pragmatic.

[fanfic-obsessed]

Knowing

I have just had the worst, or best, brainwave and I need to share it. 

Here is an AU for you.

Vader thinks that he killed his wife and child, right?

Right up until he meets little Leia Organa when she is 10 years old. Like his one brain cell woke the fuck up when he was confronted with a passionate, angry little girl with Padme’s eyes and his chin. This is maybe a month after she was kidnapped and returned to Alderaan. Leia decides that she would need to learn how to be a senator and insists that Bail takes her with him to the next session of the imperial senate.  

Bail does not want to bring her to the imperial senate. However he knows very well who her birth parents were, it is either Bail brings Leia to the Imperial Senate or Leia brings Leia to the Imperial Senate, probably bringing with her someone she really shouldn’t (Like actual Obi Wan Kenobi-I just want you to picture for a moment, because Bail certainly did, looking up and realizing that Leia is charging down the halls outside his office, dragging with her a bemused and sandy Obi Wan, both in badly conceived disguises).

Bail is super stressed as he tries to run a rebellion while riding herd on his well meaning but very direct 10 year old daughter on top of his normal duties as an imperial senator. Bail is also very afraid that the moment the Emperor sees Leia, he will make the connection between Leia and Padme Amidala (The emperor does not socialize with the senate any longer, thank the stars). He has no idea that Vader was once Anakin Skywalker, so has no cause to be more careful than normal (because Vader) about Vader seeing Leia. As such Bail does not even notice when Vader stops to consider them from the shadows. Leia is haranguing another planet’s senatorial aide who had chosen the wrong moment to make a bigoted joke. 

Vader is very abruptly, though mentally, thrown back to this very hallway 12 years earlier where he watched his wife do the same thing, for the same reason, possibly to this same aide. Though Leia is still a child and Padme was an adult, he can still see his wife in this little girl.

The realization that this is Padme’s child hits him with the force of a Ventanor. Followed immediately, before he even realized that this meant that his child was standing in front of him, by the soul deep knowledge that she must be protected from the Emperor at all costs. 

Vader had known for years that his suit had been designed to cause him more pain, he just thought he deserved it. The thought of Palpatine getting ahold of Padme’s daughter was abhorrent. Vader sticks to the shadows and watches, seeing how well Bail loved and protected Leia. 

While he is thinking(read Obsessing) about his daughter, the part of him that is always centered on Obi Wan points out that his old master had been one of the last people to see Padme after Vader choked her. But the little voice that spoke in Padme’s tones piped up, the shock of Leia living being enough to finally make this little voice loud enough to be heard, saying that until recently Obi Wan believed that Anakin Skywalker was all the way dead, he was protecting their child as best as he knew how. 

And Vader has issues with just about every choice Obi Wan Kenobi ever made. But he will admit that hiding Padme’s daughter was the best option. 

As Vader knows that paying too much attention to Leia would draw the Emperor’s attention, he would be willing to wait until the right moment to get his daughter back. His one concession to his need to protect her was taking one of his personal guard, one of the few units still made up almost entirely of clones, and assigning them to be Leia Organa’s bodyguard, her shadow (I also want you to take a moment to consider what that did for Bail’s stress level).  And then Vader gets to planning. 

With his one brain cell awake and focused on the Organa’s it takes Vader all of 15 minutes to realize that Bail Organa is running the Rebellion (I want it to be clear, this is not a slight on Bail at all, Anakin Skywalker was a war general, well educated through the Jedi on a number of subjects, and does have a fair measure of politics learning from both his former master and his dead wife).  However Vader is no more loyal to the Empire than Anakin was to the Republic.  In fact, upon realizing that Padme’s daughter had lived Vader firmly decided that he needed to find a way to kill Palpatine to crown Leia.  With the realization that Bail, and likely Leia (neither Vader nor Anakin have any idea what activities are appropriate for a 10 year old), are part of the Rebellion, Vader decides that The Rebellion would succeed (or everyone would die trying). 

Note: Vader only really gets away with no one realizing that he now supported the Rebellion because, well, no one can quite believe that Darth Vader supports the Rebellion. Most people think there is a new type of Space Madness, and that one of the symptoms is hallucinating Darth Vader giving you intel for the Rebellion.

By the time Leia was a teenager, rumors abound about the odd way that Vader acted around her. By sheer happenstance (and some judicial violence on Vader’s part) these rumors had never reached the Emperor. A good deal of these rumors implied that Vader was looking to the Princess of Alderaan as a wife.  The reaction Vader had, the only time it was brought up in front of him, was…impressive, even for the amount of violence he normally dealt out. Still there are members of Vader’s personal guard who watch over Leia whenever she is on Imperial Center, and no one wants to repeat the time when she was 12 when one of Bail enemies tried to kidnap her for ransom.  It took an entire corps of engineers to put those levels back to rights (after they scrubbed the blood off).  

So we get all the way up to the timeframe of ANH. The Death Star in this does not start out under the control of Darth Vader. It starts out under the control of Tarkin, it is important to note this. Leia still sends out R2D2 and C3P0 to find Obi Wan Kenobi, none of that part changes. 

It is after Leia is captured that Darth Vader shows up (does he lurk silently in any system that Leia is due to be in as often as he can get away with…why yes, yes he does). Tarkin had wanted Leia tortured, however no one wanted to find out how many decks Vader would spread their entrails across for touching her.  Vader arrives on the bridge just as Tarkin is threatening to blow up Alderaan. Tarkin orders the weapon to begin its charge. 

Leia, Leia who is so like her mother in that she will use every weapon in her arsenal, turns to Darth Vader and speaks to him for the first time. ‘Please’ she said, no effort to hide her distress, ‘please save my planet’

Something Leia had no cause to know-An angel who she resembled once thanked Anakin Skywalker for saving her planet. 

Tarkin is dead almost before she finishes speaking. Vader orders the DS weapons to power down and disengage, which is done post haste. Then announces that Leia Organa was now in control. 

So Leia now owns a Death Star (genuine article-never used). Leia is not sure if that is how this works, but no one is arguing with the tall man in black who has OPINIONS and will enforce them.  Leia manages to communicate this to her parents, who take a shuttle up to the space station to figure out what the fuck is going on, and what, if anything, they need to do next.

Two hours later: Obi Wan Kenobi, Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, R2D2, C3P0, and Chewbacca have just been caught trying to sneak onto the Death Star. The Organas are still on board, trying to get answers (In that time Vader has said precisely five words to them ‘You have raised her well’).  It is to this room that the troopers manning the station (who are deeply confused and a bit conflicted because it seems like they may have all been forcibly defected from the Empire, but no one is willing to disobey Lord Vader) bring Obi Wan and co. and present them to Leia, as she is considered in command.  Somehow Luke’s full name (I kind of picture him still dumbly introducing himself to Leia, followed with ‘we’re here to rescue you’) gets used before the situation deteriorates. Which naturally causes everything to deteriorate further and faster than before.  

Far away on Imperial Center, the Emperor pauses in the middle of a hallway ‘I feel’ he says to no one ‘a disturbance in the Force.’ another pause ‘like some shit has just hit the fan’

Far away on Dagobah Yoda looks up, ‘weird, shit just got’

[amarynthian-chronicles]

Equivalent Value

Sebastian Solace x Reader

(warning: suggestive themes)

"Come on, Seb, don't be like that. Please?"

"No."

"Pretty please?"

He reached to place a clawed finger under your chin, tilting his head and grinning, narrowing his eyes.

"You are lovely when you beg. My answer remains negative."

"You are a jerk."

"A merchant's honour is very important, little light. As much as I enjoy your charming pleas, I cannot go against my own rules. You need to offer me something of equivalent or approximate value. And your sweet "pretty please" is not going to cut it."

He was taunting you, relishing the power that your despair offered. Perhaps your own pain was a soothing balm to calm his own wretchedness. It was more tolerable to listen to the shrieks of others than one's own, after all.

Still, you refused his answer. You frowned, crossing your arms over your chest.

"It is becoming insanely difficult to scavenge things and I am just trying to survive at this point. If you want to keep your favourite toy in a functional state, that will require some concessions on your end. Can you please make an exception this time? I am desperate here."

Sebastian could not deny the logic of your statement. You had never allowed yourself to be placed in such a position, and perhaps your claims of not having any research files to bargain with were truthful.

Magnificent. He could make you dance to his music.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against yours, cruel words dripping like poisonous honey from them.

"How desperate are you, my wayward light?"

Mind games with monsters were a dangerous thing and you would normally do your best to win. However, this time you did not have any advantage and you simply wished to get the needed supplies. You sighed.

"What do you want?"

"The most precious thing you could offer to a starving man in this very moment."

You did not stop him when his strong arms snaked around your waist, engulfing and capturing you. You were his prize, the most valuable type of treasure he could acquire. His ally, his accomplice, sharing his secrets.

You were well aware that he wanted you, your mind, body, and soul. Whether you wished to admit it or not, you yourself were the most powerful card you had against him.

"I hereby offer myself. It is all I have. Will this suffice?"

To your surprise, he gently reached for your hand, kissing it in a gentlemanly manner.

"The payment is more than acceptable."

You blinked in confusion at the sudden change of demeanour. Yes, the feral desire was still there, but his actions were now coupled with a certain tenderness that bordered on worship.

Sebastian took his sweet time, placing many gentle kisses along your hand, then upon each finger. His teeth grazed slowly along your wrist. Your cheeks were burning.

"Oh, my."

"My blessing, my little light, sweet salvation. For years, I had remained here, condemned, left to rot in this oceanic prison. And yet, an angel has been sent to me, tormenting me, mocking me with their warmth, their hope. I shall feast, I shall drink that nectar."

"You send such mixed signals, you know?"

"To keep you guessing, of course."

"Bastard."

His lips claimed yours, eager, showing his claim. Your softness drove him mad, his long tongue reaching to explore the warm and welcoming cavern of your mouth. You made little muffled squeaks, surprised at the sudden surge of passion. Even more so at the length of his rather dexterous tongue that was exploring with pure abandon.

Sebastian decided to savour the moment, gliding his claws along your sides, grinning as he felt you shudder under his touch. Such softness. He had been deprived of the pleasures of simple touch and affection for so long.

Deciding that he should grant you the mercy of allowing you to breathe once more, he released you from the kiss. He nuzzled the soft silken skin under your neck, allowing your warmth to comfort him. Your pulse, your beating heart, a symphony only for him to enjoy.

Sebastian had to gather some control over himself, resisting the need to claim you in that very moment. No, he wished to slowly unwrap his present and enjoy each part of the payment that had been offered. Still, his three hands could not help themselves, fondling and scratching, teasing you all over. You were still gasping for breath, holding onto him.

"Seb..."

"I am busy, darling."

"Don't tear the fabric, I don't have a whole closet of clothing, you know."

"Worry not, I shan't disrobe you just yet. Your payment will be in several installments. This is merely the first one. As for the garments, I can procure you whatever you wish."

"Good thing you didn't print a receipt, while you are at it."

Strong hands kept massaging and squeezing your sides and hips, earning your sweet hums and moans as a reward. You relaxed in his hold, leaning your head on his chest, closing your eyes.

"A little to the right, upwards. My back has been killing me for days, this is wonderful. You should be a masseuse, Seb. Three arms work magic."

He laughed gently at your nonsense, resting his chin on your soft head.

"Of course, my dear light."

[revelboo]

Better Open the Door

IDW Thundercracker x Reader- movie night

18+ 🌶️

• Turbines screaming to give voice to his own frustration, Thundercracker rolls through the clouds. Starscream is always busy. Skywarp is always angry. And that leaves him. Alone. How long had it been since his trine had gone for a flight as brothers? Not a mission or patrol, just flying for the joy of it? Well before the war.

• Flying by himself at night so that the moonlight gilds his alt mode has become his escape from the noise and drama of the Decepticon stronghold. The scheming. Out here it’s just him and the night.

• And maybe a movie. Losing altitude, he transforms and lands gracefully, peds silent on the sandy ground as he stalks forward. He’d found the drive-in by accident, the lights and motion pulling him in. Crouching in the darkness, he’d watched the images flashing across the screen. Optics flitting to the handful of cars parked facing the screen, their human occupants staring in rapt fascination. There was no sound, but the drama playing out still drew him in.

• Later he figures out he can tune into the primitive, human radio frequencies to hear the movies and he keeps returning, hiding out of sight and devouring action, comedy, brightly colored cartoons. All of it. It’s the action movies he adores, though. The last minute rescues, high stakes, and impossible odds.

• Drive-in theaters are a dying breed and you know it. Flashlight aimed at the gravel crunching under your sneakers, you move down the mostly empty rows of your parent’s passion project. That was failing and slowly draining their bank accounts. No one wanted to sit in their idling car, the sound tinny over their car speakers when they could relax in plush recliners and experience everything in 3D and surround sound. Behind you, the last straggler pulls out as the credits are still rolling, their tires popping in the gravel.

• For a second you catch a glimpse of something out in the night, a darker shadow within the pitch moving. A deer or a coyote lured by the smell of popcorn? While a single coyote wouldn’t normally bother with an adult, your skin crawls anyway. Apparently that childhood fear of the dark and the unseen hadn’t gotten the message that you had grown up and left it behind because the fear is visceral, a living thing in your chest trying to claw its way free.

• There’s nothing there. If you don’t look, it’ll be fine. Just turn around and head back to the concession building, because what if it’s a bear after the trash cans? It’s not like you can stop a bear, so just walk away. Despite your brain begging you not to, you lift the flashlight and it catches on an expanse of blue and black metal. That moves back away from the light.

• Don’t. Don’t. Shaking uncontrollably, you raise the flashlight, your horrified brain trying to make sense of what the puddle of light is revealing. A massive leg, a torso- glowing red eyes flare from high above, tipping down at you like bloody searchlights.

• You know what? You don’t make nearly enough money to deal with this. Brain noping at this impossible horror, you fumble the flashlight and run like hell, screaming.

• Scrap. He lunges as the human runs and promptly falls in the gravel with a panicked yelp of pain. Managing to scoop it up despite its frantic squirming to get free, he backs up away from the lit building it was running for. When he cups his other hand over it, its cries fall silent.

• “Shh. Is this about the admission?” It takes your brain a moment to make sense of the words, because giant, metal horror machine isn’t crushing you. It’s asking if you’re screaming because it hadn’t paid to watch the movie in a deep, rumbly voice like thunder rolling. What. “No, it’s all good,” you manage, because it can watch whatever movies it wants gratis as long as it’s not squishing you like an ant. You’ll even bring it popcorn if it wants. That other hand is still poised over you, ready to drop and crush you.

• The human is just staring up at him now. Scared to death if the frantic drumming of its heart is any indication, but not screaming. Just… staring. Oddly uncomfortable, he keeps moving back into the shadows. “Did see watch it? I feel like parts were missing.”

• Again. What? Is the giant killer robot asking about the movie? “You’re supposed to watch the other movies first,” you say voice cracking, inwardly screaming at yourself to just shut up. Not to encourage it. “Mission Impossible is a series.”

• Sucking in a sharp breath as you’re lifted even higher so that you’re almost at eye level and definitely as gruesome death after falling height. And now you’re learning that in addition to being scared dumb by giant robots, you’re scared of heights too. “You have the others?” Your captor asks as you close your eyes.

• “No, we just rent them.” If you throw up on him, you’re certainly dead. “But I can get them for you.” Anything if it means not making it angry. “Tomorrow.” Next

[littlest-w01f]

Best Medication

Rhysand x Reader

RHYSAND MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Rhysand is sick after accidentally scenting a mineral in one of the caves of the Illyrian mountains, he desperately needs Reader's help

CW: Sick Rhys, aphrodisiac, breeding kink, spanking, knoting, FxM, Smut 18+ MDNI

a/n: fic on Ao3

You didn't understand what was wrong with Rhysand, it had been almost half an hour that Azriel had come for you, begging you to check up on Rhysand, and since Madja was busy with another patient and couldn't come to him you packed your supplies.

"Ugh... I'm going to die aren't I?" Rhysand groaned as you set a cold wet cloth on his feverous forehead, slowly changing the cloth over his chest and stomach.

"No, you're not." You frown, dipping the cloth in cold water to cool it down before you keep it back on his chest, "Cassian and Azriel are with the priestesses, trying to find more about the mineral you accidentally scented, I can't see anything from my powers... They show nothing wrong with you."

As Rhysand lets out another groan, his body covered in sweat, you decide to try your magic on him again, the glow of your healing slipped into him as you held his wrist, eyes going bright, "I don't get it..." You frown, moving your hand away, returning to normal, "You're... Freakisly healthy."

You felt helpless as your High Lord shivered in bed, you moved to sit beside him, "We just have to wait for-"

"y/n~" You freeze when Rhysand purrs your name, that sound of his voice. "y/n..."

You turn to face him, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets at the scent of his arousal that fills the room, his violet eyes dark in lust. Rhysand gripped your skirts, eyes almost pleading, "I need you..." He breathed.

"Rhys," you stuttered, feeling your cheeks heat up under his intense gaze. "What... What do you mean?" You asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the confusion swirling inside you.

"y/n," he murmured, his breath hitching slightly as he spoke your name. "I've wanted you for so long." His words were barely more than a whisper, but they carried an intensity that left no room for misinterpretation.

"Rhys, we shouldn't..." You breathe softly, knowing what he wanted, a part of you wanted it too, "You're sick"

"That may be true," He panted, a faint smile playing on his lips, a smile lopsided from his fatigue. "But I crave your touch like I've never craved anything before." His hand moved from your skirt to the small of your back, pulling you closer until there was not even an inch between you. His body was warm against yours, radiating an energy that seemed to reach out and grab onto every inch of you. "You're wrong if you think I'm helpless," he said softly, his voice dropping down to a near growl. "We can find a way around my illness."

His thumb brushes over your lips, silencing whatever protest was forming there. "And if it's the morality of it you're worried about, remember who you're talking to." He smirked, motioning to himself.

"If you're sure..." You sigh, almost shivering under his gaze, your own arousal flowing, you nod.

His smirk widened at your concession, his grip tightening on your waist as he pulled you flush against him. The sensation of your curves pressing into his tense form sent a shiver through his weakened body, reviving him in ways he hadn't thought possible.

"You're killing me here, my pretty medic," he groaned, leaning down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. As his tongue explored your mouth, one hand moved down to cup your ass, squeezing the curves firmly while his other hand reached up to caress your cheek gently.

The room spins for him as he flips you onto your back, his strength surprising considering his earlier weakness. Your heart pounds in your chest as he roughly rips at your medical attire, tearing away the fabric to expose your skin beneath.

With a wicked grin, he trails hot kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin until you arch off the bed, a low moan escaping your lips. His hand moves down your body, tracing over your curves until he reaches the hem of your lingerie, slipping his fingers underneath to tease at your slit. He chuckles against your skin, his breath hot and heavy. "So wet already," he murmurs, his fingers dipping lower to circle your clit.

"Please," you whimper, your hips bucking against his hand in sudden desperation. "Rhys, please..."

His fingers continue their torturous circling, teasing your clit until you're writhing beneath him, desperate for more. But he doesn't give it to you right away, instead choosing to prolong your torment, his other hand moving up to pinch one of your nipples, rolling the hard peak between his fingers.

"You want more, love?" he coos, his hand slipping further down to plunge three of his fingers inside your soaked cunt, his mouth capturing your free breasts.

His fingers slide deeper into your soaking cunt, his palm rubbing against your clit as he starts to pump in and out of you. You gasp at the intrusion, your back arching off the bed as pleasure courses through your veins. "That's it, sweetheart," he murmurs, his other hand pinching and twisting your nipple. "Take my fingers like a good girl."

Your heart was beating wildly, pressed under Rhysand, whimpering softly, with a guttural groan, he withdraws his fingers from your dripping cunt, only to replace them with his throbbing cock. The head teases your entrance for a moment before he thrusts in, burying himself to the hilt within your tight walls. "Ahh, fuck," he grunts, his body shuddering at the feel of you wrapped around him. "So fucking tight." He begins to move, withdrawing slowly before thrusting back in, setting a punishing pace that has you screaming his name mere moments later.

With a grunt of effort, he flips you onto all fours, his strong arms wrapping around your waist as he positions himself behind you. He gives your ass a firm slap, sending a jolt of pain through your sensitive skin. "Mine," he growls, thrusting into you from behind, his cock pounding into your wetness. "Every fucking inch of you is mine." His hands roam freely over your body now, grabbing and squeezing your curves while he takes you hard and fast, his hips slapping against your ass with each thrust, landing another hand on your ass as he dove deeper into you, his body felt better with each thrust into you, his fever slipping away.

"Yours," you moan, eyes rolling back in pleasure as he holds you by your hair, shuddering from his spanks.

His grip tightens in your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck. "That's it, sweetheart," he murmurs, his teeth grazing against your skin. "Scream for me, y/n." His thrusts become harder, faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. He can feel his climax building, the pressure coiling in his lower abdomen as he reaches down to rub at your swollen clit. "Come for me, y/n," he commanded, his voice full of his High Lord's power. "I want to feel you tighten around my cock."

The moment he commands it, you explode, mind blank, filled with an urge to follow his given order, your entire body convulsing as you scream his name. Your walls clamp down on his cock your entire body trembling as you scream out his name. "That's it," he groans, feeling your cunt flutter around his cock. "Such a good girl."

His thrusts become rougher, more primal as he buries himself to the hilt inside you, his balls slapping against your clit with each powerful thrust, the bed creaking loudly. He groans loudly, his body tensing as he feels his release approaching. "Fuck... I'm going to fill you up, y/n," he pants, his voice raw, wings flaring out, fluttering with his thrusts, making him go harder. "Going to breed your pretty cunt so fucking hard."

"Rhys..." You gasp, eyes slightly wide feeling his cock nudge at your cervix, the bed nearly being pulled off its hinges, his words sent a shiver down your back, you're slightly thankful you had decided to keep taking contraceptive tea even if you weren't looking for sleeping around, not wanting to take chances. You push your hips back against his, moaning softly.

You can feel his knot swelling at the base of his shaft, promising a much more thorough breeding than either of you had expected. "Wait... What's that-" you whine, eyes wide, feeling the stretch, eyes rolling back, for the moment not caring for reasoning.

"Ah, fuck... I'm close," he groans, his grip on your hips tightening, fings turning into claws, scratching at you. "Can't hold back anymore." And then he came, his hot seed spilling deep inside your womb. His roar of pleasure fills the room as he rides out his orgasm, his knot locking you two together as he paints your insides with his cum.

For what seems like hours, time blurring together in a haze of lust and pleasure you continue, losing count of the orgasms you both had. Lost in the pleasure, you let instinct guide you, you collapse onto the bed, panting heavily, Rhysand rutting like an animal into you until you're too exhausted to continue. your bodies glistening with sweat.

"Mmm..." Rhysand pulled out softly, making you whine from being stretched too much by his knots, "I feel so much better now," he smirked, watching you sprawled on his bed, covered in both your fluids.

You pass out by the time he brings a clean washcloth to wipe away the cum from your body, snapping his fingers to replace the ruined sheets under you with clean ones.

"Y/N IT'S AN APHRODISIAC HE'S GOING TO GET REALLY HORNY BUT THEN BE OK, WE JUST NEED TO-" Cassian bursts through the room, eyes going from you passed out in Rhysand's bed to him pulling his pants up.

"'Let him ride it out'?" He smirked slyly, finishing what Cassian was thinking, "Oh, don't worry, y/n already did."

{General Taglist- @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot}

[whoopsyeahokay]

Alphabet Soup

summary: prompt fill. the journey of a clandestine love affair at several stages because Wally Clark craves what he can't have and refuses to keep his hands to himself. and you live for it.

pairing: grey!Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: smut. AU - modern setting. romanticized toxic behavior. cheating (not on you). miscommunication. public sex. egregious use of the word 'baby'.

bon reading, frens

___________________________🧿

Alphabet Soup - M

M is for misunderstandings, and miscommunication, and misleading rumors that bring Wally to his knees while he's in his football kit, 20 minutes before the game. Baby, I swear and I know it's fucked up, but you have to believe me because you DO. Whoever told you that he sexed Janet up at Braden's Homecoming Game Eve party fucking lied. The notion makes Wally queasy and you're not listening, Jesus, baby, stop, just listen! But you're too busy hurting, putting distance between you and Wally like he's fucking contagious, and he doesn't know what else to do.

He grabs you by the shoulders, spins you around, and pins you against the wall with his body, arms fastened around you like boa constriction. You push and shove and loose a muffled scream against his chest. He doesn't budge. Kisses your head, temple, the curve of your jaw, "Stop, baby, please. Please, listen to me." A kiss to the corner of your mouth when you finally submit, pliant in his arms, huffing and hateful and oh so magnificent in your anger.

One hand glides down your spine, the other cradles your face, his eyes begging you to hear him out, "It's not true, sweet girl." He promises, "I wouldn't do that to you. I'd never do. that. to you." And he really fucking wouldn't. To Janet? Yeah, they aren't a thing; not how it matters. But you? It would have to mean life or death, and even then...

You and he are behind the stadium, the back area used by concessions, recycle on one side, trash on the other, hidden from view. Wally lets go. You slump against the wall, expression closed and ears open. He can't play until you smile. Until he knows you're his again. Then bench-rider Matt pops his head out of the security door to tell Wally t-minus too few minutes before he has to hit the field.

"Get lost."

"But—"

"Get fucking lost, Wilson!"

Matt gets fucking lost, off to assure Coach that his MVP will be ready for kickoff. Wally turns his attention right back to you, hands on your neck, thumbs stroking your cheeks, trying to make you look at him. When he kisses you, you fight back with teeth, but at least you respond. Fire and passion so strong that all of Wally's blood jets south and his vision is more inkspots than reality. He shackles one of your wrists in his big hand, then the other. Over your head on the wall as he fucks your mouth with his tongue.

"You gotta believe me, baby," He urges, voice rough and low, taking your wrists in one hand so he can grope under your Devils' blue dress with the other. God, you'd look good in his letterman. A package so pretty he'd have to unwrap you on sight. A smirk against your lips when his fingers rub your pussy through your panties from behind. Soaked. "You like it when I'm rough with you, don't you, baby girl?" He kisses you again. Hard. Nips your lip sharp enough to break the delicate skin.

The moan he swallows makes him throb.

"You didn't really believe it did you? You just wanted to pick a fight...naughty girl." He coos, rich and dark and so hard he thinks he might pass out. "You wanted to get me like this..." He grinds his hips against you, that just-right pressure making his eyes roll back. "Fuck, baby, all you had to do was ask." His fingers keep playing with your pussy, rubbing and teasing, sneaking under thin fabric to feel that sweet velvety heat he can't wait any longer to get around his cock.

In one coarse move, Wally turns you, bends you, ass up, hands on the wall, and a deep curve in your back. He takes a moment to admire you, his fingers digging into your lovehandles. Too bad he doesn't have time to tease you, tugs your panties down to your knees, his pants shoved down to his thighs, hissing when the cool air hits sensitive flesh.

"Gonna make a mess of you baby." He vows and he does, fucks you hard and unforgiving against the stadium wall. Slams into you over and over, angling himself in a way he knows will hit your g-spot every time. On every beat of his hips, you choke, moan, whimper, beg for mercy or more, and he growls in response, moves faster, harder until, fuck, baby, I'm gonna—

Just as it starts, he pulls out, rubs his cockhead through your folds, paints your pussy lips with his come as he strokes himself stupid. But he's not done yet. Before you can breathe, he plunges the fingers of one hand inside you, the fingers of the other on your clit, furious and savage, "That's it, baby girl." He feels you clench, spasm, and then you shout his name as you squirt all over his hand.

Your panties are ruined, used to mop up the mess Wally made as it trickles down the inside of your legs. He smirks at you, hungry, the look in his eyes a guarantee that you're not sleeping at home tonight. You're not sleeping at all.

He takes your bunched up panties from you when you try to throw them in the dumpster, "Nuh-uh, sweet girl, these'll be my lucky charm," and he flagrantly shoves them inside his jockstrap, discreet under the cup, and leaves you to join his team with a deep, hungry kiss and a slap on the ass.

It's the best damn game Wally has ever played.

27-0.

Coach claps his back and demands that Wally do whatever pre-game ritual he did today for the rest of time and Wally's only too happy to oblige. His eyes find you easily in the stands, dress pulled down as far as you could get it, and a feral grin curls his lips. After all, if there's one thing you don't fuck with, it's athletic superstition.

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MASTERLIST

also available on AO3!

alphabetical navigation:

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

linear navigation:

B T K A F P V R M S D C I J H W N O E X G L Y U Q Z

[justliketoreadsowhat]

Lucky Catch ☆

⚠︎︎; 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞

𝐚/𝐧; 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐈 𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫. 𝐄𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲!

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

"Out Of All The Games You Chose To Go To This One?"

Your mind swiveled with 2nd thoughts as you sat way up in the nosebleeds, hopelessly watching one of your favorite player Nika Muhl sit on the bench for yet another game.

After spending endless nights contemplating on catching a flight down to Seattle, you finally gave in to your impulseive thoughts and went for it.

It was fitting that you bring along your best friend Ella for moral support, although she was never quite as interested in sports, she would never turn down supporting your passions. Even if that meant flying half way across the states to see your girl keep the bench warm.

A sigh escaped your lips "At least we're winning" Barely. "Maybe we should start moving down to the floor to catch some autographs" In the back of your mind, you knew there was a slim catch of getting on all the action, but nevertheless you were determined to leave here with something other than countless pictures and videos.

"No- we can't leave just yet, they're about to do the t-shirt toss!!" her hands pointing at the jumbotron that displayed a huge countdown with less than 2 minutes remaining on the clock.

This scene was all too familair to you, the cheerleaders come out dancing, grab a handful of t shirts and throw them about 5ft into the front crowd.

It was pointless.

"Please be so for real right now, There's no way those t-shirts are coming our way when we are all the way up here" Your eyes glanced down to examine the depth of how high up the two of you were "We're better off overpaying for a shirt at the concession stands".

You began to gather all your belongings and the nachos that were now cold. Standing up to your feet the crow noise suddenly erupted in the arena. Frantically you scanned your surroundings, eyeing the jumbotron your eyes grew wide.

This was most definitely a life or death situation.

The gold and green lights grew dim as the jumbrotron screen grew impossibly brighter as no other than Paige Bueckers stood before the sold put crowd, smiling and waving gracefully as she clutched a t-shirt in her dominant hand.

"I told you we needed to stay for the toss" she jarred, urgency more prominent than ever before. "Lock in for me because it looks like she's throwing it this way"

How could anyone see from this far up anyways?

Before you could squint to see from down below, an impact struck you right in the shoulder. Your reflexes quickily reacted, catching the object before it hit the ground.

You caught it. The crowds attention glued to your seats in disbelief

Shit.

"She threw that like her life depending on it, come on y/n don't just stand there!" Shock was taking over your body. "We gotta get down there to see her"

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

"Did you see who caught that?"

"No not really, but what I did see was you chucking the t-shirt way over yander" Evina laughed, playfully nudging Paige in her side.

"imma professional what can I say?" her hands positioned together ready to initiate her rizz hands for the 10th time tonight.

"Put. Them. Down." she groaned rubbing her temples. "It's bad enough you got all of those girls screaming your name with every step you take".

"Mm.. you sound like a hater"

"And you sound like you'll be catching an uber home by yourself"

"Alright Alright not too much now" Paige jolting her hands up in self defense, Evina quickly smacking them down.

"Please look like we like each other because I think we found your lucky catch" pointing in the direction of the two girls being accompanied by one of the many security guards.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

"Damn she's way taller in person" you muttered to your best friend, only to find her walking away from you, leaving you to fein for yourself in the heat of the moment.

The grip you had on the shirt tightened as you got closer to her. "That was a tough catch" she beamed, her blue eyes sparkkling with glint.

Drop Dead Gorgeous is all that ran through your mind. Her blonde hair slicked back perfectly, not a hair our of place as her earrings sparkled with every turn of her head, as her tucked chain mirrored the same action. Envision of how nice it would look dangling in your face.

"Why thank you" you smiled warmly "You definitely threw a cannon" glancing down at her large hands that had veins spread all throughout like wildfire. Her laugh echoed throughout your body causing small goose bumps to form.

"I'm just happy you caught it because I for sure thought it was gonna hit that beautiful face of yours" her hand gently grazing over your chin.

The feeling of your heart fluttering off rhythm was enough to make you fold in front of everyone, including the cameras who began to swarm the two of you, bright flashes evaded every corner.

You prepared to see this moment plastered on your timeline, yet nobody could prepare you for the cost that came with it.

[jjsloverre]

bsf!jj asking you to be his girlfriend!

in which… jj takes sweetheart out to an arcade to ask her to be his girlfriend!

contains… cursing, ultimate fluff, and a TINY bit of smut, unprotected p in v (don’t do this), handjob & that’s it i hope! (not proofread)

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today was the day. today was the day jj would finally ask you to be his girlfriend. after waiting for years to do it, today he wouldn’t chicken out, you both would finally be happy.

“baby! hurry up we got 20 minutes!” jj yelled from downstairs. “i’m coming love!” you hurried downstairs. “holy fuck you look like a goddess.” jj murmured, kissing you while you walked out the house.

the drive to the arcade was bliss. you and jj were rambling about school, homework, work, anything that came to mind? oh yeah you talked about it. “so jayj?” you started. he looked at you for a second. “what’s up baby?” you took his free hand and fiddled with it, finally intertwining your hands together. “i’m happy to be with you, like a lot. i couldn’t ask for anything more and i already love this date bunches.”

jj looked at you with pure love and adoration. “y’know i adore you? everything about you just, makes me wanna protect you from the world. keep you in your tiny little love bubble you always got goin on, it’s just so sweet and precious.” your heart soared at his loving words. while the red light was active, you leaped into jj’s arms for a few kisses and sat back down. “i love you so much jayj.”

“i love you more sweetheart.”

jj took your hand into the arcade, buying the tokens and the gaming card for you both to play. “alright mama, what’s first?” he asked, while paying. “definitely basketball, you’re getting your ass kicked!” you say excitingly. “love your confidence baby.” he smirked, and took you to an available basketball hoop. “jayj this is gonna be so fun!!” you exclaimed, already swiping your card. “how much money did you put on here again?”

“don’t get mad but like there’s a good 500 points on there or some shit.”

“jj! that’s almost 200 dollars!” you screamed. you hated when jj blew almost a full check on you. “baby, it’s alright it’s worth it.” you sighed, he would continue to fight about it and you knew that. “okay fine, but next date is on me.”

“ok baby, whatever you’d like.” as you both played basketball and a ton of other games, you finally took a break for food. “baby!” you squeal. “can we pleaseeeee share a funnel cake?”

jj smiled and nodded. “yes ma’am we can. here, take my card and go buy it. i’ll get us a table and get whatever drinks you want ok?” you nod, and take his card. “do you want any specific drink?” jj shook his head. “get me anything you wanna get me, whatever you want sweetheart.”

“okay!” you walk to concession stand and order your food and drinks. you walk back a few minutes later and hand him his favorite drink. “there you go my baby!” jj’s heart swelled with love as you spoke and sat his drink down. “thank you beautiful.” even though pda wasn’t typically allowed, jj sat you in his lap and fed you some of your shared funnel cake. “taste good?” you nod. “wonderful.”

“how many more games do you wanna play baby?” he asked.

“ou ou! can we do one of those car games and we should do the go kart racing! and after that laser tags and then-” he cut you off immediately. “alright baby let’s just go and you can lead me to anything you want to do next.” you squealed in excitement. “let’s go!”

after another two hours, jj took you home and you both shared a shower. “finally! i’m so happy to be home i’m tired.” you yelled. “not done yet baby, i’m takin you out to dinner.”

“haha funny joke jj, you’ve spent enough money.”

“not a joke. i rented the whole restaurant just for us so we’re doing this.” you rolled your eyes. “fine jayj.” you and jj’s lips connected in the shower, sharing a passionate kiss. “mm love you.” he mumbled into the kiss. “love you more sweetie.” i reach down to stroke your hardening cock. “do y’like that baby?”

“i love it ma. cmon keep goin.” jj broke the kiss and buried his face into your neck, letting out needy whimpers. “my baby, you’re being such a good boy for me.” jj lets out another whimper, grabbing onto your plump ass. “fuck baby.. i can’t- i won’t last much longer.” you sped up your movements, cupping his heavy balls and squeezing just right. “f-fuck baby shit!” jj moaned into your neck, erratically thrusting into your fist.

with one more squeeze to his balls, jj came undone. in a swift movement, jj slipped his throbbing cock into your wet folds, his tip kissing your entrance. he pushed forward. “fuck baby i’m so sorry i need this..” you nodded happily and squeezed jj’s throbbing cock in more and more until he came, hard. he held you close while he emptied his load inside of your greedy cunt. “that’s a good boy.” cmon, we gonna get ready!”

“ma! i want you to cum though!” suddenly, jj felt your walls clamp down hard on his cock, realizing you did in fact cum. he moaned loudly and came one more time, giving you one more greedy load. “fuck baby, best sex i’ve had.”

“take it you liked it?”

“fuck yeah i did. now get ready for me, wear that red dress in your closet.”

you nod, putting the dress on after you get out of the shower. once you stepped out, jj looked at you in awe. “fuck yes baby! you look amazing! come on! i have so much shit planned for us.”

as you arrived at the restaurant, you immediately cling onto jj. “hey sweet girl, you’re alright.” he coaxed. he started to lead you to your seats and you both ordered. “pops is out of town again, so i can have you over and cuddle you.”

“exactly what i needed jayj.”

you and jj talked about random things for an hour, eating your food and happy overall, until he dropped a bombshell.

“so sweetheart.” he started. you turned your attention to him, letting him caress your thighs. “i didn’t think there was any better way to do this. i want you to be my girlfriend baby. the real deal, not this ‘friends with benefits’ shit. i need you, i need you like i need to breathe air or whatever they say. i just know… i just know that i’m in love with you and you’re where i belong, so will you make me the happiest man on this earth and allow me to be your boyfriend?” to your surprise he pulled out a small diamond ring. “now this, cost me my whole paycheck and more but it was overall worth it. and i think nobody deserves happiness more than you do.”

you cried pure happy tears. you threw yourself in his arms and cried. “i would love that! i want you to be mine!” jj captured your lips in a slow, sensual kiss. he poured his love and devotion into the kiss. “i love you so much.” jj muttered. “and i love you more maybank. always and forever.” with that, you leaned into the kiss more, celebrating your new love with the man you always dreamed of.

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taglist: @sturniologirlzz @sturns-mermaid @aaliyahsturniolo @ethanthequeefqueen @sophand4n4 @kieeslove @chalahyung01 @bee-43 @superlegend216 @masongetinmybed @eddxemxnson @always-reading @maybankslover @leaseyes @glitterybombshell @slut4rafecameronn @sttaejoon-blog @imsiriuslyreal @coalicionees

a/n: lmk if you guys want a fic of them getting married (like a time skip 3 years later & they get married & have a child) but yeah lmk if you want that in a few days!

more bsf!jj x sweetheart!reader here!

__________________________________________________________

[studioeisa]

unadulterated loathing! 🪄 mingyu x reader.

madame moribble's sorcery seminar has space for only two students this semester. you're forced to make a case for yourself with the one person you despise the most: kim mingyu.

★ shiz university students!mingyu x reader. ★ smau with some fic work. word count for the fic: 2.8k ★ genre/warnings: alternate universe: modern shiz university, inspired by wicked, academic rivals, forced proximity, use of pet names, feelings realization/denial. cussing/name-calling in the spirit of bickering. this only draws from the setting of the wicked, so the given plot (i.e. wicked witch) doesn't exist here; prior knowledge of wicked is not necessary to understand the story. title is from what is this feeling. ★ footnotes: wrote this in one deranged sitting, but this is an early christmas gift for my favorite gyuldaengie, @maplegyu! 🎁 not quite the fiyero!mingyu agenda we have, but still in the same verse. ilysb. ♡

Mingyu has spent the better half of his years in Shiz going toe to toe with you.

It's to be expected, really. The two of you are the brightest of your age, tearing through your academics with ruthless precision. He always raises his hand in class. You can recite book passages word for word.

Both of you are hard to ignore, and neither of you are about to back down.

This application for the coveted Sorcery Seminar is yet another curveball that you two must navigate. You would think that after the disastrous Life Science group work in freshman year— or the Runes incident in sophomore year— that the higher-ups would know better than to force you and Mingyu into any sort of proximity.

But Madame Morrible seems intent on getting the last laugh, and Mingyu will go down swinging, if he must.

That doesn't mean he can't have a little fun, though. He shows up at the Quad at exactly five in the afternoon, making his leisurely way towards you. Everything about him is seemingly perfect. His pressed, navy blazer. His coifed dark hair.

Even the way he carries himself— practically swaggering to where you're waiting, less-than-amused— has people making way for him.

"Why the long face?" Mingyu asks sweetly in lieu of a greeting.

Your answer is curt, bordering cold. "Nothing."

Youch. "Ice queen," Mingyu mumbles under his breath as he settles onto the bench next to you.

You shoot him a glare. He flashes you a winning smile.

This was the nature of your 'relationship', or admitted lack thereof. It was a push-and-pull of Mingyu getting on your nerves every so often, of him testing how far he can draw it out before you crack.

You had your moments, though, where you could also drive him up the metaphorical wall. Like this afternoon, for instance.

You talk over him more than once. You shoot down every single idea he proposes. And you keep shifting restlessly— prompting your knee to bump into his, your elbow to hit his ribs.

When you accidentally step on the tips of his shoes in your animated, passionate denial of his nth concept, Mingyu has had just about enough.

His hand darts out until his fingers are wrapped around your wrist. Not to bruise or control, just to draw your attention to all your exaggerated movements.

"Could you stop that?" he hisses, his eyes flashing with annoyance. "I swear to the Wizard, I'm going to come out of this meeting battered and bruised."

You coo at him in retaliation, your voice sickly sweet. "Aw, what is it? Gyu-Gyu of Gillkins can't handle a little roughhousing?"

Oh, it's like that? Mingyu lets out a derisive huff before dropping your hand. You give him the small concession of scooting a bit further down the bench, putting some much-needed distance between the two of you.

Mingyu's not about to let your little jab slide, though. "You talk big game for someone who goes running in the other direction whenever there's a spider around," he says wryly.

Your response is defensive, sending the two of you shuttling down your typical back-and-forth. "That was one time! Might I remind you that you once thought river fairies were mayflies?"

"Bringing up stuff from freshman year, huh? I vaguely recall you mixing up Bunbury and Bunnybury for years—"

"You still can't cast a half-decent Alarte Ascendare charm—"

"And your voice cracks whenever you try to hit the high note in Dear Old Shiz—"

"Okay, enough!"

Mingyu presses his lips tight in a poor attempt to hide his smirk. Your expression is positively murderous, contorted in one of sheer annoyance.

No, annoyance is too light of a word, too generous of a feeling. Your flushed face and Mingyu's jackhammer pulse are not mere products of some petty vexation, some harmless flirtation.

It's unadulterated loathing. True, deep loathing; total detestation.

You loathe Mingyu, and Mingyu loathes you.

As you pull the plug on your short-lived brainstorming session, marching off towards your dormitory with a dramatic flourish, Mingyu can't help but revel in the feeling. He feels like he just ran a damn marathon, all from spending twenty minutes of bickering with you.

Odd as it may seem, Mingyu has never felt so alive.

Even though you don't say it, Mingyu knows you think his idea is good.

He can see it in your acquiescence, in the way you let him run his mouth just a little more. He wants to preen over getting this little upper-hand, no matter how insignificant it may be. The two of you are working on something he suggested.

You can call him all the nasty names in the book, but your begrudging acceptance is like a trophy to him.

It's why he's so cheery as the two of you reconvene to flesh out the project. You're benevolent enough to let Mingyu wax poetics about cursed objects being integral to Oz's landscape, though you keep him from rambling when he tries to position himself as the more brilliant one between the two of you.

"Don't get cocky," you warn as you lay out the material you'll be working on for the day.

"Methinks the lady doth protest too much," Mingyu shoots back, though he does give in and shut up for once. He's not about to push his luck. It's only half-time, after all, and he has a whole lot more of winning to do.

The two of you had agreed on flowers. For a moment, neither of you do anything about the assortment of blooms laid out on the desk in front of you. It takes Mingyu a beat too long to realize that you're looking up at him.

"What?" His free hand— the one not holding his practice wand— reaches up to his cheek. "Is there something on my face?"

The unamused glare you give him almost makes him chuckle.

"It was your idea," you point out. "So you start us off."

Ah. Mingyu knows you'll tear him a new one if he tells you the truth, which is that he didn't really think he'd get this far.

He was fully prepared for the two of you to disagree until the deadline, or to perhaps start groveling at Madame Morrible's feet for a new partner.

With this half-baked idea, though, the two of you are more likely to have to see this affair to completion.

"Right." Mingyu squares his shoulders, eyeing the flowers atop the table. "I suppose we could, er, start with some basic curses."

There's a Cheshire cat-like grin on your face that Mingyu doesn't like one bit. He steels himself for the blow, which inevitably lands in you saying, "You have no idea what we're supposed to do."

He scrunches up his nose in an expression of mock displeasure. "We're going to show off practical knowledge of enchantments," he rattles off. "Provide insight into the ethical implications of magical creations. Equip sorcerers with problem-solving skills necessitated by—"

You cut into Mingyu's tirade with a dismissive wave of your own wand.

"Blah, blah, blah," you drawl. "Ethics, insight, got it. But application? What about that, Kim?"

Mingyu has to bite back a curse from slipping past his lips. You're so infuriating. He wants to wipe that smug look off of your face, though he isn't exactly sure how he might go about that just yet.

"Maybe you want to contribute something," he grumbles, his lower lip jutting out in an almost-pout. "I already came up with the idea of the project, sweets."

Anyone else who might've been on the receiving end of Mingyu's pet names might have swooned. You always bristled, acting like he had uttered something vile.

Today, you remain perfectly unperturbed, content to have Mingyu squirm as you roll up the sleeves of your school blouse.

"Watch and weep," you say, your wand poised over the flowers.

There's nothing Mingyu hates more, really, than the reminder of just how good you are. The two of you were academic monsters to begin with, though you had your respective strengths and weaknesses. Mingyu excelled in theories; you dominated practice.

In some alternate universe, the two of you might have been an unstoppable duo. As it is, though, Mingyu can only hope that your fragile truce will hold long enough to secure you both that class slot.

He tries his darndest to keep his awe at bay as you mumble incantations. The curses you leave on the flowers seem to be mostly minor.

The daisy's leaves begin to flutter like propellers. The carnation starts to rapidly change colors. The rose goes through a constant process of wilting and rebirth, the dried petals pooling on the table with each cycle.

When Mingyu steals a glance at you, he notices the sweat beading your temples. Magic took a lot out of a person, and to cast three spells in a row was no joke.

"First, we should do a magical construction analysis." Your voice is a little tighter, a little more strained. Probably from the exhaustion. "And then a de-cursing process. Strategies and techniques for reversing or neutralizing the curse."

You go on to talk about how your demonstration for Madame Morrible should go— something about a live reversal or containment of a curse, and a detailed explanation of their findings— but Mingyu is only half-listening.

His eyes keep flitting to your quivering fingertips. His own hands twitch in his lap.

It's a sudden feeling. It's a new feeling.

Mingyu never thought he'd care for you, and yet here he is with his aborted attempt to reach out, to soothe, to comfort.

In between piles of schoolwork and preparations for the demonstration, Mingyu hardly has any time to notice the shifts in your relationship. You don't seem any the wiser, either, which is saying something. You tended to have a better emotional quotient than his overdramatic self, anyhow.

But there are shifts. Small changes in the day to day that are imperceptible to the less-discerning eye.

The two of you remain cutthroat in the classroom, drawing your peers' ire with your relentless rivalry. Behind closed doors, though, there's something more akin to… civility?

Mingyu wouldn't dare call it friendship. He's not that naive. He just knows there's an ounce of kindness, now. Some self-imposed restraint, some begrudging respect.

As the two of you move on to executing more complicated curses, the changing dynamic bears down in the most glaring ways.

"Enough."

The word comes out as a wheeze, but Mingyu injects it with just enough authority to have you pause. You don't look any better than he does. You're folded in half, your hands resting on your knees as you try to catch your breath.

The spell that neither of you could conjure just yet involved a hand mirror and an ancient curse. So far, all the two of you have managed is to make the mirror sing.

"Let's— take a break," Mingyu offers.

Your response is to be expected. "I don't need a break. I need to get this stupid curse right."

A muscle in Mingyu's jaw jumps. He stares down at you with a look of sheer incredulity, and you only return his glare with a defiant one of your own. Someplace else— with someone else— the electricity crackling between the two of you might have been sexual tension.

Alas, Mingyu knows it's nothing more than your shared animosity.

… Right?

He breaks the silence with a mumble of, "I need a break. Give me five minutes."

Honestly, Mingyu could keep going. He thinks he has it in him to try and cast the spell a couple more times, but he's willing to look weak if it means getting you to pause.

You don't even have a snappy retort or a smartass insult to his declaration. All you give is a jerky nod of your head before you lumber off towards the nearest chair in the otherwise-empty classroom. A peculiar expression flashes across Mingyu's face as he watches you walk, almost like every step that you take is an effort. You miss the look in favor of practically collapsing on to one of the desks.

"Wizard Almighty," Mingyu cusses lowly. He reaches your side in a couple of strides, though he pauses with his hand hovering over your shoulder.

At the last moment, he clenches his hand into a fist and draws back.

"Is this seminar class really worth dying for?" he muses, shoving his hands into the pockets of his slacks.

"I'm not— dying," you choke out. "I just need— a—"

There's an edge of exasperation in Mingyu's tone. "You need a break. It's just me. You can admit that."

Before you can shoot back, Mingyu wanders off to his backpack. He digs through it for a moment before he can procure his water bottle, which he wordlessly places onto the desk you're on.

You give a quiet sound of appreciation before uncorking the bottle and taking a long swig. The rehydration seems to invigorate you in the slightest, enough for you to straighten to your full height. Mingyu holds back on teasing you over the way you've emptied his drink.

The first words you say after you've caught your breath are "It's because it's you."

Mingyu's eyebrows knit together in confusion. He tilts his head to one side, looking every bit like the confused puppy he's often likened to. "Pardon?"

"You said— I can admit that I need a break, because it's just you." You place Mingyu's water bottle down, your hands bracing the edge of the desk as you speak. You're looking up at Mingyu, but you're not quite looking at him. It's like your gaze is fixed on something just beyond his line of sight, and it hits him that you're avoiding his gaze.

You clarify, "I didn't want to admit that I needed a break to you."

His immediate reaction is to protest. To laugh and call you stupid, to question your faulty logic. But when Mingyu's lips part, the insult at the very tip of his tongue—

He finds that his words are just out of reach.

Because, for better or for worse, he understands where you're coming from. The two of you have exploited each other's weaknesses, have poked and prodded holes into each other's defenses. Why should this be any different?

There's an inexplicable twinge in Mingyu's chest. A tangible, physical tightening, over the spot where his heart is.

He had wanted it to be different. He doesn't know why, but he thought that this might make things different.

Instead, he manages to push out a heatless, "Right. That adds up."

Neither of you say anything for a while. The five-minute break stretches into seven, then ten. Right before the fifteen-minute mark, you say, "I think we should call it a day."

Mingyu— who has spent the past quarter of an hour trying to untangle his thoughts— jumps at the suggestion.

"Definitely," he says a little too enthusiastically. "Yeah, yeah. Let's… tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow. Same time?"

"Got it."

You gather your things and begin to make your way out of the classroom. Mingyu moves a little slower, not wanting to have to prolong any conversation if the two of you were to leave together.

He thinks he'll never have an answer to the question clanging in his mind until you pause halfway out of the door.

"Kim Mingyu."

He freezes in the middle of adjusting his bag strap over his shoulder. "Hm?" he hums, trying his best to act noncommittal even though his entire posture is already defensive in nature.

The sight of it seems to amuse you, because the ghost of a smile tugs at your lips. It's not a smile that you've ever given him. He's seen it in the corner of his eye, witnessed you dole it out to underclassmen and friends. And maybe he's always been a bit envious, a bit desperate to be on the receiving end of it.

Now that he is, he feels like he just got punched in the gut.

"Thank you," you say.

Plain, simple, unadorned. No explanation. It could be grace for the water. Grace for the break. Grace for the partnership. Mingyu doesn't know, doesn't care. He'll take what you have to give.

His mind tries to conjure the perfect response, one that might have you feeling the same way that he is. No problem or you're welcome or it's just me, sunshine.

What he eventually settles on is an exhale of "Always."

He wants to kick himself for it. Who the hell says 'always' to 'thank you'? a chiding voice screams in the back of his head. What does that even mean?!

He winces outwardly. Your smile widens slightly, just enough to throw him off balance once again.

And then you're gone, your footsteps echoing down Shiz' hall, leaving Mingyu with the answer.

Mingyu loathed you in theory, but in practice? Well.

He's so caught up in trying to unpack his realization that he nearly misses the quiet ping of his phone in his pocket.

[thewulf]

Teaching Trails || Azriel

Summary: Request - can i request a teacher reader x azriel where she's Nyx's teacher/tutor and feyre or rhysand asks az to pick him up since they're busy and he swears he falls in love on sight seeing reader be so sweet on Nyxie and how comfortable Nyx is around reader? just something sweet and fluffy and maybe a super nervous az when reader notices him at the doorway?? You can decide the rest. love your work!

A/N: Ahhhh I loved writing this. Idk I just picture Nyx as a sweet bubbly 5/6 year old in this. Adored writing this!

Pairing: Azriel x Female Reader (Night Court Reader)

Word Count: 5.0k +

TW: Use of Magic (fluffy!!)

As you stand at the edge of one of the many expansive terraces of the House of Wind, the air around you is crisp, the sky a clear, deep blue above the sprawling city of Velaris below. This majestic residence is perched like an eagle's nest atop a solitary mountain and commands a breathtaking view of the Night Court. Its beauty a sure giveaway to ancient power and elegance. Yet despite its grandeur there’s a poignant isolation to it. Especially for young Nyx, whose days are spent within these walls that soar closer to the stars than to the streets where other children play.

Inside the palace is a labyrinth of ornate halls and vast chambers. Each room a masterpiece of art and architecture designed for gods rather than a playful child. The echo of Nyx’s laughter often bounces off the high ceilings. A reminder of the solitude that accompanies his royal upbringing. He is a small but vibrant figure roaming the endless corridors exploring shadowed corners and hidden nooks. His solitude veiled by the splendor surrounding him.

It's during one such quiet evening as the horizon painted a watercolor of twilight hues that Feyre brings up her growing concern to Rhysand. They are in their private chambers. A place where the masks of High Lord and Lady can be set aside. Where vulnerabilities can be voiced without the weight of a crown.

"Nyx needs more than just us. He needs more than this palace," Feyre starts with her voice steady yet filled with an urgency that draws Rhysand’s full attention. "He’s missing out on normal interactions. The kind that happen away from royal duties and ceremonial greetings. He’s a child. He should be learning through play, through friendships formed in mud and laughter. Not just in state rooms and formal gardens."

Rhysand’s expression is torn. As a father he yearns for Nyx to have every happiness the world can offer. But as a ruler the thought of his son, so precious and so exposed, wandering beyond the enchanted safety of their home is daunting. "It's dangerous, Feyre," he counters. His voice laced with a protective edge. "The world isn’t always kind, especially not to those of royal blood."

"But isn’t it more dangerous to raise him in a bubble? How will he learn to lead? To understand his people, if he only ever sees them from a balcony or at formal events?" Feyre’s hands gesture emphatically. Her eyes alight with passion. "We need to let him explore, Rhys. We need to let him be a child. Not just a prince." Their conversation stretches into the night. Debates entwined with silent contemplations until a resolution begins to dawn much like the first light over the Sidra. Rhysand’s fears don’t dissipate entirely but his love for Nyx and his trust in Feyre’s instincts lead him to a concession.

"Alright," he says finally. A reluctant smile breaking through his concerns. "We’ll find him a teacher. Someone who can guide him, teach him, yes, but also someone who can take him beyond these walls. Let him learn about life. About our people through his own experiences. Not just through stories and reports."

Feyre’s relief is palpable and together they set out to find the perfect candidate. The search is exhaustive with candidates from across Prythian and beyond interviewed. They seek not just an educator but a guardian of sorts. Someone who understands the delicate balance of nurturing a child like Nyx. Someone who can foster his curiosity and protect his spirit.

The search for a tutor for young Nyx was not a decision taken lightly. Within the ornate conference room of the House of Wind, Feyre, Rhysand, and other key members of the Inner Circle—save for Azriel, who was away on duty—gathered to commence the rigorous interview process. The room was filled with an air of solemnity as each candidate presented themselves. Their credentials scrutinized not just for academic excellence but for a deeper understanding and alignment with the values of the Night Court.

Mor, with her keen sense of people, led the questioning. Her bright eyes missing nothing. Cassian injected moments of levity lightening the mood with his humor. While Amren's piercing gaze seemed to delve into the very souls of the candidates searching for sincerity and resilience. Each member of the Inner Circle brought their own perspective ensuring that the chosen teacher would not only educate Nyx academically but would also nurture his emotional and cultural development.

Then you entered the room. With a demeanor both warm and composed you introduced yourself. As you spoke about your educational philosophy making sure to emphasize experiential learning and emotional intelligence the panel was visibly impressed. Your background in educational psychology coupled with your years of experience teaching in diverse environments highlighted your capability to adapt and thrive in any teaching scenario. More importantly your genuine passion for fostering young minds resonated deeply with Feyre who nodded appreciatively at your thoughtful answers.

Throughout the interview, your approach to education which focused on developing both the intellect and the heart of a student was clearly aligned with the Night Court's ideals. You spoke of the importance of understanding each student's unique needs and adapting lessons to fit those needs. Even suggesting outdoor classes and cultural excursions that would allow Nyx to learn about his heritage in a tangible, engaging way.

As the interviews concluded and the candidates departed the room buzzed with discussions. It was clear to everyone that you stood out not just for your qualifications but for the gentle strength you exhibited. A trait they all deemed perfect for handling the sensitive nature of their prince's education.

When the decision was made Feyre personally reached out to offer you the position. The joy and excitement in your voice as you accepted was palpable. Aware of the immense responsibility of teaching the heir of the Night Court you were nonetheless thrilled by the opportunity to make a significant impact in a young child's life.

As you prepared to step into this new role your heart was buoyant with anticipation. Not just for the challenges ahead but for the chance to contribute to shaping a future leader of the Night Court. The trust placed in you by such revered figures was not just an honor but a truth to your life's work and passion igniting a fervent desire to start this new chapter.

In the heart of Velaris away from the towering isolation of the House of Wind you spend a delightful morning with Nyx at one of the city's lush public gardens. The day is warm. The gentle buzz of the city a distant backdrop to the laughter and learning that fills the air around the two of you.

You laid out a picnic blanket under the shade of a towering silverleaf tree. The spread covered with books, sketchpads, and an assortment of colorful pencils. Today's lesson is about the flora and fauna of Prythian. A topic that has Nyx bubbling with excitement and curiosity. As he sketches a butterfly that landed briefly on the edge of your blanket you explain the role of pollinators in the ecosystem, delighted by his insightful questions and the meticulous care he takes with his drawing.

"Nyx, do you see how the colors of its wings can tell us about its environment?" you ask as you were pointing to the delicate patterns that mirror the blooms around you.

"Yes!" he exclaims. His eyes lighting up with understanding. "It’s like camouflage, right? They blend in to stay safe from predators!"

"Exactly," you reply. Your heart swelling with pride at his quick grasp of the concepts.

The lesson shifts seamlessly from science to history as you guide Nyx through the stories of the Night Court. Each tale woven into the landmarks visible from your spot in the garden. Nyx listens, rapt, as you tell him about the ancient fae who once walked these paths. The battles they fought and the peace that now thrives in their stead.

As the morning progresses Nyx's natural curiosity leads him to a question that makes you pause. His small voice tinged with genuine wonder. "Why don't you have wings like my mom, dad, Uncle Cassian and Uncle Az? Like that pretty butterfly?" he asks. His head tilting as he regards you thoughtfully.

You smile softly, touched by his innocent inquiry. "Well, not all fae have wings, Nyx. Just like not all flowers have thorns," you explain using an analogy you know he'll understand. "Each of us is unique with different abilities and gifts. It’s what makes us all special in our own way."

Nyx nods considering this. "I think it’s cool you don’t need wings to fly. You have books and stories that can take you anywhere," he decides with a wise look crossing his features that makes you chuckle.

"That’s a wonderful way to put it, Nyx. And remember, we all have our own ways of soaring," you say ruffling his hair affectionately.

As you begin to pack up the day's learning materials you lean closer to Nyx with a conspiratorial whisper. "Tomorrow, we’re going to do something special. We'll join a class with other children your age. You’ll get to play and learn together with them," you tell him watching his face light up with sheer delight.

"Really? I'll have friends to play with?" His voice is filled with excitement. His earlier thoughts about wings forgotten in the anticipation of meeting new friends.

"Absolutely," you assure him sharing in his excitement. "It’ll be a lot of fun and you’ll make lots of new friends."

Nyx's eyes sparkle with anticipation as he begins to imagine the possibilities. "I'm going to tell mom and dad all about it tonight!" he exclaims already planning out his evening conversation. "And I’ll tell Uncle Az too. He likes hearing about my adventures."

The mention of Azriel, whom you've only heard about through Nyx’s enthusiastic stories, adds an interesting layer to your perception of the mysterious figure. "That sounds like a great idea," you respond, amused, and intrigued by Nyx’s affectionate mention of his uncle. "It seems Uncle Az is quite the hero in your stories."

"Yeah! He’s really cool! He can disappear like a shadow and is always on secret missions," Nyx says. His admiration for Azriel evident in his wide eyes and animated gestures.

The day ends with Nyx bouncing along the path back to you classroom chatting animatedly about all the things he hopes to do with the other children. His excitement about sharing his upcoming school day with his family, especially with his beloved Uncle Az, whom you've yet to meet but feel like you already know through Nyx's tales, fills the air with joy.

Your heart warms at his enthusiasm knowing that these new experiences are exactly what he needs. As Nyx sketches another flower with his small hand moving confidently you know these moments of joy and anticipation are as precious to him as they are to you, nurturing not just a young prince’s mind but also his spirit. The connections he's building with his family, with you, and soon with his peers are shaping him into a thoughtful, well-rounded individual, ready to explore the world with confidence and curiosity.

As the sun begins to dip below the horizon casting a warm, golden light through the windows of your classroom the day's adventures wind down to a quieter, more reflective pace. You sit in a cozy corner of the room on a soft, plush cushioned area you've set up specifically for reading. Nyx nestles beside you as his energy from earlier now softened into the gentle tiredness of a day well spent. In your hands a beautifully illustrated book about the legends of Prythian opens to a page where the heroic deeds of ancient warriors are painted in vivid colors.

As you read aloud, your voice smooth and soothing, Nyx's eyelids begin to flutter gently. You notice his weary smile as he listens. The adventures of the day transforming into the adventures in the pages. Gently, almost instinctively, you begin to caress his hair. Smoothing it back from his forehead in a tender, rhythmic motion. It's a peaceful scene, the kind of simple, heartfelt moment that often goes unnoticed in the bustling life of the Night Court.

Unknown to you his Uncle Azriel stands at the doorway having arrived to pick up Nyx. He pauses there, a silent observer, taken aback by the tranquility and warmth of the tableau before him. His task had been simple. He was to retrieve Nyx and bring him home but the scene he encounters tugs at something deep within him. A longing for such unguarded peace.

Azriel watches as Nyx's breathing deepens, the sweet child drifting closer to sleep with each gentle brush of your hand. Your care for Nyx, so natural and affectionate, strikes a chord in Azriel. He's seen many facets of life. So many forms of relationships and bonds but the simplicity and purity of this moment resonate with him profoundly.

He remains there at the threshold hesitant to interrupt the moment. He was captivated by the gentleness of your interactions with Nyx. The world he usually inhabits—one of shadows and secrets—feels miles away from the soft warmth of this sunlit room. In this pause Azriel realizes that his task isn't just about escorting Nyx. It's about respecting and appreciating the sacred, everyday magic that people like you bring into Nyx's life.

Eventually though the story comes to an unfortunate end, and you close the book before looking down at Nyx to see him fully asleep. A contented expression on his young face. As you carefully consider how to wake him Azriel finally clears his throat softly announcing his presence.

You look up, startled slightly, your eyes meeting his for the first time. There's a moment of mutual acknowledgment. A silent appreciation for the scene he's just witnessed. An understanding that while your worlds may be different the care you show to Nyx bridges them beautifully. Azriel steps into the room. His movements gentle as he did not want to disturb the serene atmosphere you've created.

"Thank you for taking such good care of him," Azriel says quietly. His voice carrying a warmth that surprises even him. "He obviously treasures these moments with you."

"You're welcome. It's truly a pleasure teaching him," you reply with a warm smile. Your eyes reflecting genuine affection for Nyx.

As you gently wake Nyx his eyes flutter open gradually clearing as they adjust to the presence of another in the room. When he spots Azriel standing quietly by the door a bright, sleepy smile spreads across his face. He quickly scrambles to his feet, excitement replacing any remnants of sleepiness.

"Uncle Az!" Nyx exclaims. His voice filled with delight as he runs into Azriel's open arms. Azriel catches him effortlessly before lifting him into a warm hug. They share a moment, uncle and nephew reunited, their easy laughter filling the room. You grin recognizing him as the infamous Azriel in Nyx’s life.

Then as if struck by a sudden realization Nyx turns back towards you with a look of proud excitement lighting up his features. With a firm grip on Azriel's hand he pulls him closer to you and announces, "This is Miss Y/N, my favorite teacher ever!" His voice carries through the room filled with genuine admiration and joy.

Azriel's gaze shifts to you. A slight tension beneath his calm demeanor as he processes Nyx's enthusiastic introduction. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he says, his voice steady but softer than usual, a subtle undercurrent of nervousness mingling with his words.

You smile warmly, extending your hand in greeting. "I've heard a lot about you, Azriel. Nyx tells me you're quite the hero," you say. Your tone light and inviting.

Azriel takes your hand and for a moment his usual composure falters under your gaze. He's momentarily taken aback not just by the warmth of your smile but by the unexpected impact of your presence. She's beautiful, he thinks, and kind... The realization that he's slightly awestruck surprises him. He finds himself momentarily lost for words.

"And I've heard you've been learning about heroes in your lessons with Nyx," he manages to say his voice carrying a hint of warmth that rarely surfaces. Nyx obviously pleased with the exchange claps his hands excitedly.

"Can we all walk back home together?" Nyx asks looking up at both of you with hopeful, bright eyes, “Please!” He adds in for good measure as if you weren’t going to immediately say yes to him.

"Of course, Nyx," Azriel responds after looking to you for confirmation.

You nod, gathering your belongings, and the three of you step out into the cool evening of Velaris. As you walk Nyx fills the air with chatter about his day seamlessly weaving together his two worlds with tales of butterflies and ancient warriors. Azriel listens with a soft smile playing at the corners of his mouth. His initial nervousness easing as he's drawn into the simple joy of the moment. His thoughts linger on you, intrigued, and unexpectedly moved by the genuine connection forming between you, Nyx, and himself. A beautiful end to an enriching day.

As the three of you begin your walk back through the twilight streets of Velaris the usual calm that Azriel embodies seems to waver slightly. He is typically a figure of stoic composure, his presence both commanding and elusive shadowed by the mysteries of his duties as the Spymaster. However, today, as he walks beside you, something is distinctly different.

Azriel's steps are measured. His usual fluid grace tempered by a hint of uncertainty. His glances towards you are quick, almost cautious, as if he's trying to decipher an unfamiliar script. The conversation flows easily around Nyx's enthusiastic chatter about his day but each time you turn your attention directly to Azriel a subtle tension flickers across his features.

"You really have a wonderful way with Nyx," you say hoping to bridge the gap with kindness. "He's always so excited to share what he's learned with you."

Azriel nods. A slight flush visible beneath the dusky hue of his skin. "Thank you," he murmurs as his voice is softer than usual. "It's... it's good to see him so happy. You do a lot for him."

The simplicity of your interactions, the easy smiles and gentle teasing you offer to Nyx, resonate with Azriel in a way that is both heartening and unnerving. He's unaccustomed to feeling this way—unsettled yet drawn in, eager yet shy. His hands though normally steady and sure whether wielding a weapon or a shadow clench slightly at his sides betraying his internal struggle.

As Nyx runs ahead a little, bursting with energy as he recounts another part of his day, Azriel takes a moment to compose himself. He glances at you again. This time holding your gaze a moment longer than before. The vulnerability rarely seen by others is palpable now as it was a quiet admission of his nervousness.

"I'm... not usually this unsure," Azriel confesses quietly almost to himself. "But there's something about these moments…. seeing Nyx so at ease with you. It's more comforting than I anticipated."

Your response is a gentle smile, one that acknowledges his admission without pressing further. It's a smile that seems to say you understand that the quiet spaces between words can be filled with kindness, not just silence.

The rest of the walk continues with a softer ease. A budding respect forming amidst the shared glances and the fading light of day. Azriel's initial nervousness slowly ebbs away instead replaced by a quiet appreciation for the unexpected warmth this evening has brought into his usually guarded world.

As the three of you approach the grandeur of the House of Wind, the towering structure casts long shadows over the cobblestone paths. It’s presence as awe-inspiring as it is imposing. Nyx who was still bubbling with energy despite the day's adventures, rushes ahead. Clearly he was eager to recount his tales to Feyre and Rhysand. You pause at the entrance. The vast doors open as if welcoming back its prince.

"It's been a wonderful day, Nyx," you say, giving him a soft hug. "Don't forget to draw that butterfly we talked about!"

"I won't, Miss Y/N!" Nyx promises. His voice echoing slightly in the vast entryway. He turns and dashes inside as his laughter lingered in the air.

You turn to Azriel with a smile gracing your lips. "Thank you for letting me share part of your evening. I should head back home now."

Azriel’s expression shifts. Concern etching his features. "It’s getting late," he observes while glancing at the skies, now painted with the deep blues and purples of dusk. "Please, allow me to walk you back to your home. The streets can be less than forgiving at this hour."

You pause appreciating his concern but ready to reassure him of your safety. "That’s very kind of you, Azriel, but it’s no worry. I know these streets well," you say as you turned to make your way down the path.

Before you can take more than a few steps a subtle but firm presence stops you. Looking down you see one of Azriel’s shadows has stretched out across the path in front of you almost playfully barring your way. It's a gentle unspoken plea that catches you by surprise echoing Azriel’s silent wish for you not to go alone.

Azriel takes a step forward. His gaze earnest. "I would truly feel better if I could ensure your safe return. Please," he adds. A rare hint of vulnerability in his voice that you hadn't expected.

Seeing the genuine concern in his eyes and touched by his quiet insistence you nod to him with a smile spreading across your face. "Alright, Azriel, if it means that much to you then I’d welcome the company," you agree. The warmth in your tone matching the softness in his eyes.

"Thank you," he replies visibly relieved. He quickly steps inside to ensure Nyx is settled and returns to you with a more relaxed demeanor ready to accompany you.

As you and Azriel begin the walk back to your home the streets of Velaris are bathed in the gentle glow of the stars and softly lit lanterns casting an enchanting light over the cobblestones. The atmosphere lends a serene backdrop to the conversation that begins to unfold between you.

"You know, Nyx speaks so highly of you," you start by breaking the initial silence with a warm tone. "He's always so excited after spending time with you. You must have some exciting tales from your duties."

Azriel chuckles softly. A sound so serene that it seems to dance in the night air. "Nyx has a way of making everything sound more thrilling than it might actually be. But yes, there are times when my duties hold some... intrigue." He pause, as if weighing what to share. "Mostly, I'm just ensuring that the court and our lands are safe. It's not always as adventurous as Nyx might depict."

"And what about when you're not cloaked in shadows and mystery?" you ask genuinely curious about the man beside you beyond his role as the Spymaster.

A hint of surprise flickers across Azriel's face. Surprised yet pleased by the interest you’re showing in him. "I enjoy solitude, usually. Reading, training... Though I have a fondness for sword making. It’s a craft that requires precision and patience much like my usual work but with a more tangible, creative result."

"Sword making? That’s fascinating," you remark smiling at the thought. "It must be rewarding to create something so intricate and vital."

"It is," he agrees. His voice softening ever so slightly. "And what about you? What do you enjoy doing in your free time?"

You nod before reflecting on your simple pleasures. "I love hiking and just watching nature. There’s something peaceful about observing the natural world. Just seeing how it exists so beautifully without any need for interference."

The conversation flows naturally from there. The earlier apprehension melting into a mutual appreciation for each other’s hobbies and life outside of official duties. As you talk Azriel’s steps seem to synchronize with yours. His presence an incredibly comforting shadow by your side.

When you finally reach your doorstep the city around you has quieted even further. The only sounds being the distant murmur of the Night Court's nightlife and the gentle rustling of leaves. Azriel pauses, standing just a bit closer than before. His usually guarded demeanor dimmed under the starlight.

"Thank you for allowing me to walk you home," he says. His voice sincere and gentle as if reflecting the calmness of the evening.

"It was my pleasure," you respond, finding yourself reluctant to end the conversation. "I enjoyed our talk, Azriel. It’s nice to see the person behind the shadows."

He smiles. A true smile that reaches his eyes making them sparkle with a rare lightness. "I did as well. More than I expected. Perhaps we could do this again, maybe take a hike together?"

"I’d like that," you agree. Your heart light with the promise of future conversations, of shared paths both literal and metaphorical.

"Good night, Miss Y/N. Take care," Azriel says as he steps back ready to meld back into the shadows from which he came.

"Good night, Azriel. And thank you… for everything tonight," you call after him. A smile still playing on your lips as you watch him disappear into the night. The connection between you both stronger and sweeter for the shared walk under Velaris’ starlit sky.

In the days that follow Azriel finds himself inventing reasons to visit your classroom or accompany Nyx to his lessons more often than strictly necessary. Each visit, purportedly to check on Nyx’s educational progress or to discuss scheduling with you becomes a cherished opportunity for him to engage in brief, yet meaningful conversations with you.

Each encounter, ostensibly casual, subtly deepens his affection and admiration for you. He begins to notice the small details: the way your eyes light up when discussing a new teaching method, the gentle patience with which you guide Nyx through difficult lessons, and the enthusiasm that bubbles up when you talk about your nature hikes. Azriel who was typically reserved and composed finds himself drawn into your world of vibrant enthusiasm and heartfelt dedication.

One afternoon as Azriel stands somewhat hidden by the doorway of your classroom just like he did that first day he met you observes a particularly touching scene. Nyx, having mastered a particularly tricky spell, turns to you with a triumphant grin. You laugh, your joy as vivid as the sparkle in Nyx's eyes. He swears your laughter seems to light up the room.

Watching this Azriel feels a warmth spread through him. A warmth that has little to do with the sun filtering in through the windows. It’s in this simple, unguarded moment that he realizes his feelings for you have deepened beyond mere admiration. He's not just falling for your kindness towards Nyx but also for the genuine spirit and infectious joy you bring into every interaction.

As he steps away from the doorway with a thoughtful smile playing on his lips Azriel knows that what he feels is something profound and undeniable. Your spirit which was so vibrant and full of life calls to him in a way that no one else ever has. And as he walks away with his shadows trailing behind him he’s certain of one thing. He wants to explore where this connection might lead not just for Nyx's sake but for his own heart’s as well.

After ensuring that Nyx was safely back at the House of Wind you begin to make your way back towards your home. The day's light is waning casting long shadows that stretch across the cobblestone streets of Velaris, adding a mystical allure to the city’s evening charm.

As you step forward, the sound of your footsteps is a soft echo in the quieting city. You're lost in thought pondering the pleasant interaction with Nyx and looking forward to the solitude of your evening walk home. However, before you can get far you hear Azriel’s voice calling out from behind you.

“Wait, please!” His tone carries a blend of urgency and hesitation that halt’s you in your tracks.

You turn around surprised to see him approaching quickly. His usually composed demeanor replaced by a slight breathlessness. The shadows that always linger around him seem to pulse in sync with the heightened beat of his heart.

Azriel catches up to you. His expression earnest. “I just wanted to ask properly,” he starts, his voice steadying as he meets your gaze. “Would you join me for a hike this evening? There’s a trail not far from here that’s especially beautiful in the evening light. I think you’d really enjoy the views, and...” He pauses before taking a breath reassuring himself, “I would really enjoy the company.”

Your smile deepens, touched by his sincerity and the vulnerable way he presents his request. The softening of his features and the hopeful look in his eyes paint a picture of a man stepping beyond the shadows that define him.

“I would love to, Azriel,” you reply warmly. Your voice filled with genuine excitement. “It sounds like a perfect way to end the day.”

Relief washes over Azriel’s face. His usual stoic mask giving way to a rare, genuine smile. “Thank you,” he says as if a weight was lifting from his shoulders. “Shall we meet at the edge of the city in half an hour?”

“That sounds wonderful,” you agree already anticipating the quiet beauty of the trail and the shared moments ahead.

As you both part ways to prepare for the evening hike the anticipation of the upcoming adventure brings a new spring to your step. Azriel turns back once more watching you walk away, his heart lighter. He realizes just how much he’s looking forward to exploring not only the natural wonders of Velaris but also the potential of a new and blossoming relationship with you. The thought brings that rare and hopeful smile to his lips. One that he carries with him as he disappears into the shadows to ready himself for the evening.

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[cressidagrey]

Not to be pushy or anything but we now need Felicity negotiating Oscar’s next contract with McLaren. Like then letting her take the lead and make concessions that they normally wouldn’t do hoping that she would go easy on them. But she doesn’t or just like people tip toeing around her and her family cause they know if she sees them doing something she don’t like to her family they better watch out.

I also have questions. Does Felicity have a job or just works on passion projects and does she have any other interesting hobbies besides reading contracts. Then when Bee goes to her first race does she have like a costume racing outfit and a clip board or does she wear something else. Then does Oscar like honor her with a special helmet design or something when she comes or on her birthday.

You are so right and now I need to see it too 😭 Felicity in full calm-and-terrifying mode sitting across from McLaren Legal with a binder, an arched brow, and Bee on her lap with an iPad and matching contract notes. McLaren: “We’re prepared to offer—” Felicity: “We’re prepared to walk.” Them: sweating profusely and immediately folding like lawn chairs.

People 100% tiptoe around her now — not because she’s loud, but because she’s quiet and ruthless when it comes to protecting her people. She’s got respect in that paddock. And fear. And she deserves both.

To answer your questions:

Felicity does not have job in the sense that she works for somebody else and gets paid for it. She restores cars that she sells sometimes though.

She also has like a bunch of random hobbies, which include (but are not limited to): Investing all the money Oscar makes and playing with stocks (very successfully), ballet dancing, playing the violin, restoring vintage cars she and Bee work on together (garage day is sacred), knitting, embroidery, watercolour painting (sometimes), a short stint of woodworking (because who else is gonna make bookcases to cover the whole living room), cooking, baking, watching Oscar's onboards with Bee, terrorising Bee's kindergarten teachers, actual Beekeeping and vegetable gardening. That's from the top of my head. She also has an intense herb garden, and definitely wins every pub trivia game she attends.

Bee’s first race look? Oh, she turns up. Fliss and her have matching denim Jackets with patches and PIASTRI emblazoned over their bags. She also has noise-cancelling headphones with sparkly stickers. She also asks mechanics very intense questions.

Oscar’s helmet? 100% yes. T I also have the head canon that both Felicity and Bee were born on the 18th, so Oscar has their number with him (in a way) anyway.

Thank you for giving me the best visual spiral — Felicity Nation is always thriving in this house and I love that you're here for it 🧡✨