#and she's still turning the heat on at night

[flickering-chandelier]

You Drew Stars Around My Scars

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel and Reader meet one day and the connection is instantaneous. Azriel becomes worried though, when Reader starts showing up late to their dates more consistently. When the truth comes out, they need to figure out how to keep moving forward.

Based on this request! Thank you for sending it in, I hope you like it! 🩷

Word Count: 3.8k

The market was bustling today and Azriel cringed slightly, pulling his wings in even tighter behind him. He had no idea why Amren had insisted that he be the one to pick up the items she needed for her new project. Perhaps because she knew that he would be the least likely to complain. 

He was approaching the stall that carried what Amren needed when his gaze snagged on someone at a neighboring one and he stopped dead in his tracks, causing the people around him to curse and move around him, irritated.

Azriel barely heard it though, his attention fully on you. You had a simple dress on, but it accentuated your curves beautifully, your hair was loose, falling down your back in ringlets. The way you moved was graceful as you picked up an item to inspect. 

But your smile as you talked to the owner of the stall, the way it lit up your face with such kindness… that is what made Azriel’s knees feel like they were about to give out.

He longed to approach you, but by the time that he had come to his senses enough to start moving, you too had moved, working your way through the market. It was so crowded that he lost track of you. 

Crestfallen, he went back to the stall and got the supplies for Amren. 

---

Days later, Azriel still could not get you out of his mind. That damn smile haunted his dreams and his every waking moment. 

So much so, that at the earliest opportunity, he went back to the market, his eyes raking the crowd for any sign of you. He seriously contemplated flying up to a rooftop for a better angle, but that would probably be frowned upon. 

He perused the market, feeling a bit foolish. The Night Court’s spymaster, reduced to wandering around the market on his day off like a lost puppy in hopes of finding a woman he didn’t even know.

His spirits lifted dramatically though, when he saw you. You were perusing a stall, inspecting a jar with a shiny liquid inside. 

Azriel didn’t let himself hesitate this time, dodging people milling about as he strode for you. Eventually, he appeared at your side, and you looked up at him, so surprised to suddenly see a large, looming male next to you, that you dropped the jar that you were holding.

Smoothly, he caught it before it hit the ground and offered it to you. Your eyes sparked with recognition as you studied him: the wings, the Illyrian clothing, the shadows twirling around his biceps. 

Your fingers brushed his as you took the jar back from him and you murmured, “Thank you.”

He nodded, offering you a faint smile, not sure what to say. He hadn’t thought this far ahead.

“You’re the High Lord’s shadowsinger,” you said, looking up at him, sounding a little breathless.

“I am. But most people just call me Azriel,” he said, a note of humor edging his voice.

That smile you had offered the others before was now turned on him, and he felt as if the ground was swaying underneath him. You offered him your name, before saying, “I feel a bit like I’m meeting a celebrity.”

Azriel could feel slight heat in his cheeks, and tried to maintain the neutral expression he nearly always wore. He waved his hand dismissively, “Trust me, I’m not. Cassian is more of the celebrity. I mostly blend into the shadows.”

You tilted your head, looking up at him from beneath your lashes, studying the hard line of his jaw, his hazel eyes, the curve of his mouth. “That’s a shame,” you said, a little wistfully.

Azriel’s heart was thundering now. “Do you want to get dinner?” 

Your smile widened. “I think I can make that happen. Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” he agreed. 

You picked the restaurant and the time, and just like that, Azriel had a date.

---

The date was, in his opinion, nothing short of amazing. 

He had arrived a bit early to dinner, and you waltzed up to the restaurant exactly on time, looking like a vision. Part of your hair was braided around your head like a crown, but part was still flowing down over your shoulders, curled. Your dress hugged the curve of your waist, the hem landing midway down your shin, perfect for the summer. 

You beamed as you approached him, and Azriel had to concentrate to keep his breathing steady. The two of you were seated outside, watching the sun set over the river. 

The conversation was easy. You kept it light and playful, grazing your hand against his bicep every once in a while when you laughed, the sound bright and beautiful.

Flirting, he realized. You were flirting with him. Laughing with him. Making him laugh.

Mother, when was the last time he had felt like this?

Had he ever felt like this?

After dinner ended, you stood up and gently took his hand in yours, tugging lightly so he stood up too, towering over you. “Do you want to take a walk?” you asked, your eyes sparkling under the stars that were out by then. 

“Lead the way,” he said, one side of his mouth turning up into a smile.

You led him to the artists’ quarter, the lights vibrant against the night. He watched as your eyes lit up at the site, marveling at all the artwork, the people milling about. 

“Oh, look!” you exclaimed, excitedly pulling him to a painting of the mountains surrounding Velaris. “It’s beautiful,” you told the painter, who nodded in thanks, smiling.

Azriel couldn’t help but stare as you took in the painting, your eyes alight. 

“Are you a painter?” he asked.

“I try to be,” you grinned at him. “I’m not very good.”

Before he could respond, another painting caught your eye and you gasped, tugging on his hand, leading him through the crowd. Azriel laughed, and you turned back to smile at him, your whole face lighting up. His heart swelled.

On and on you went, his lifeboat pulling him through the sea of artists. He could have gone on like that forever, he thought. 

You were about to pull him to another painting when you suddenly turned to him, flushed. “I’m sorry,” you said. “I’ve gotten carried away, haven’t I?”

Azriel shook his head, smiling. “Not at all.”

You smiled, seeming shy all of a sudden. “It’s late,” you said. “I should probably head back.” 

“Can I walk you home?”

Your smile grew and you nodded your head for him to follow. Your arms brushed as you walked, taking in the night air. 

It was a short walk to your house, and you stopped before the door and smiled up at him. “Thank you, Azriel. Tonight was… amazing.”

Azriel couldn’t help but smile back at you. “It was.”

You stood on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek lightly before turning to the door, and Azriel said your name, stopping you before you could open it. “Can I see you again?”

You beamed. “Meet me by the Rainbow in two days?”

Smirking, Azriel said, “Absolutely.”

---

Azriel could hardly focus on anything else while he waited to see you again. His friends absolutely knew something was up with him, but did not pester him about it. Yet. 

Two days after the initial date, Azriel was waiting in the Rainbow, where you had told him you wanted to meet. 

He waited. And waited.

Trying to stomp down his growing anxiety that you wouldn’t show, he gazed at the art around him. You had been right on time to your first date. Had you changed your mind about him?

He was about to walk through the artists’ quarter, wondering if he had not remembered correctly where you wanted to meet, when you finally arrived, your cheeks flushed, but you looked beautiful as ever. 

“I’m so sorry,” you said, a little breathless. “Something came up -- it’s hard to explain. I swear I tried to be on time.” 

Azriel was just glad that you had come. “It’s alright,” he smiled reassuringly. 

Your eyes twinkled under the stars, relieved. “Thank you.”

His smile widened and he lightly squeezed your upper arm, trying to soothe you. 

You smiled slowly and arched an eyebrow, mischief written all over your face. “So, I had an idea.”

“I’d love to hear it.”

Laughing, you said, “Let’s go dancing.”

Azriel’s smile dropped. You laughed even more. “Dancing,” he repeated. 

“Dancing,” you grinned.

“I can’t dance.” 

“Oh, please. Everyone can dance.” 

“Not me,” Azriel said, smiling despite himself.

“Please,” she murmured, taking a step closer to him and looking up at him from under her lashes. “For me?”

Azriel sighed, raking a hand through his hair. You knew you already had him wrapped around his little finger. “Fine.”

You squealed with delight, taking his hand in yours and walking in the direction of the Velaris night clubs. Azriel tried to focus on the positives: your soft hand in his, how happy you were, how your hair bounced as you walked.

By the time you got to the nightclub, Azriel’s felt like his heart was in his throat. He really did not dance.

But you strode right in, glancing back at him with the biggest smile on your face. You led him right into the middle of the crowd of people pulsing with the music. 

He stood still and watched as you moved your hips, your arms up above your head, twirling around like you didn’t have a care in the world. I could easily fall in love with this woman, he thought. Easily.

You turned back to him and laughed brightly, placing your hands on his hips, trying to make them move. He didn’t budge, which made you laugh even more. “Come on, shadowsinger. Live a little!”

He wanted to, if only to make you happy, but he couldn’t focus on anything but your hands on him and that smile that knocked the breath out of his lungs.

Studying him for a moment, you said over the music, “Okay, I see we need to try a different tactic,” you said, taking his hand in yours and leading him to the edge of the dance floor, where it was less crowded. 

You stepped right up to him then, so your bodies were barely an inch away. You took both of his hands and settled them on your hips, then placed your hands on his shoulders. 

“Don’t think so much, just move,” you said, your voice light and teasing. 

He towered over you, watching as you moved your hips, lightly pushing and pulling on his shoulders so he would move with you. It took nearly a full song, but eventually his body relaxed, letting himself be guided by you.

“There you go,” you grinned. 

Suddenly, the song slowed significantly, and you looked up at him, becoming slightly shy again. 

He gazed down at you, smiling faintly as he pulled you in closer to him, keeping one hand at your waist and taking one of your hands in his. 

Azriel swore he saw your breath catch as you studied his face, eyes slightly wide. Azriel tightened his grip on you slightly when your eyes dipped to his mouth and lingered there. 

Holding his breath, he leaned in slowly, stopping a breath away from your lips, giving you a moment to back up if you wanted to. But, you surged forward, connecting your mouth with his. 

He smiled into the kiss, bringing a scarred hand up to gently cup your cheek. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss, and as the music swelled to a crescendo, he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, lifting you off the ground. You gasped into his mouth, bending your knees as he held you in the air. 

Gently, he set you down a few moments later, and when he pulled back, you were smiling, your cheeks dusted red. 

“That might have been the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me,” you said, your tone teasing, but your eyes alight. 

“Me too,” Azriel murmured, unable to tear his gaze away from your beautiful face. 

The two of you spent hours together, and Azriel found himself unable to keep his hands off you. You seemed the same way, always placing a hand on his arm, on his shoulder, while he rested his hand on your hips, the small of your back, or held your hand in his. 

For hours, he watched you dance, and willed his body to move with you, only because your eyes shined, your smile bright, when he did so.

At the end of the night, he walked you home once again, this time pulling you in by the waist and kissing you until you were breathless, twining his hand into your soft hair, your hands on his face.

---

Weeks passed, and the two of you kept meeting as often as your schedules would allow. 

Azriel would have been on cloud nine… except that he was starting to have his doubts. When the two of you were together, it was amazing, a connection and energy that he had never felt with anybody before. In the privacy of his own mind, he was even willing to concede that he had absolutely fallen for you.

But he couldn’t pretend that everything was perfect. You had been late to nearly every date. He would always be unnerved waiting for you, thinking that this would be the time that you would leave him hanging, never to be heard from again. But then, you would come, always breathless, like you had rushed to get there, and would apologize profusely, but never giving an explanation. Azriel couldn’t help but wonder if you were not as interested in him as he was in you.

He considered talking to Cassian or Rhys about it, but had a suspicion that they would not be very helpful.

So eventually, he decided just to talk to you about it. He didn’t want you to feel like you had to keep seeing him if you didn’t want to.

There was clearly movement in your house as he approached. He took a deep breath before knocking.

Your eyes were wide in surprise, but not unhappy, when you opened the door. “Azriel,” you smiled. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” he said, quietly. 

You opened your mouth to respond, but before anything could come out, a little boy, a toddler came running to the door, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw Azriel hulking in the doorway. 

The boy gaped at Azriel, his mouth hanging open in shock, before turning to you, “Mom! That’s the shadowsinger!” he squealed, running up to said shadowsinger and wrapping his tiny arms around Azriel’s legs, his head not even meeting Azriel’s knees. The boy looked up at Azriel in awe, “you are so cool.”

Azriel’s head spun, trying to process the information in front of him, but he couldn’t focus over the feeling of his heart absolutely melting as he gazed at this boy, full of such joy. He patted the boy’s back, smiling. “You think so?”

He nodded vigorously, his curly hair that matched his mother’s flicking over his eyes. “I wish I could be a spy.”

Azriel grinned. “I can teach you, if your mom says it’s okay.”

The boy gasped, and Azriel looked at you for the first time since your son had made himself known. You looked like you were about to cry, your hands clasped in front of you. He couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or not.

“Honey, why don’t you go play for a little bit?” you said, your voice slightly shaky, steering your son into the other room. “Mom has to talk to Mr. Shadowsinger about grownup stuff for a little bit.”

He pouted a bit, but did as he was told, reluctantly untangling himself from Azriel and toddling into the next room.

You sighed when you were alone with Azriel, searching his face.

“This is why you’ve been late,” Azriel said, his voice thick with emotion.

You nodded. “I’m sorry.”

Azriel took your hand in his, trying to ground himself. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

Your eyes filled with tears, and Azriel’s heart cracked. “Most males aren’t interested in raising someone else’s kid. And I liked you… I was too scared to lose you.”

There was no breath in Azriel’s lungs. He ached for you, for what you had no doubt been through with other males who you tried to date. He wanted to rip them to shreds. Slowly, he leaned down, gently kissing each tear away. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly, leaning his forehead against yours. “Not unless you want me to.” 

You sniffed, looking up at him through damp lashes. “I don’t want you to.”

Azriel smiled softly. “Good,” he murmured, pulling you into his chest, resting his chin on the top of your head.

You stayed like that for a while, holding each other, before he asked, “What’s his name?”

“Jax.”

“Do you think Jax has it in him to be a spymaster?”

You laughed against his chest, and Azriel smiled into your hair. “I think he can be whatever he wants to be.”

He pulled back to look at you, tilting his face down to meet your eye. “Do you want me in his life? If it’s too soon, that’s okay. But I would love to get to know him, eventually.”

That beautiful smile shone on your face as you said, “I would love that.”

For the rest of the afternoon, Azriel taught Jax how to be a spy. They ran around the house, ducking behind furniture, following invisible enemies. 

Azriel glanced at you periodically, reveling in the bright smile on your face, your eyes shining. 

---

Jax became an important fixture in Azriel’s life, often accompanying your dates around Velaris. One day, Azriel had recruited Feyre to help get you all into a painting class for all ages. 

You grinned as Azriel led you and Jax into the studio set up with paints and easels. There were a few other families there, setting up their work stations. 

“Azriel, will you make a painting with me?” Jax asked, his green eyes wide as he looked up at Az.

“Are you sure you don’t want to make your own?” Azriel asked.

Jaz nodded. “I’m sure,” he said, taking Azriel’s hand and leading him to the paint station to pick out colors. Jax chose color after color, handing them all to Azriel, who was grinning, trying to keep hold of all the paints. 

You beamed, your heart full as you watched your son and Azriel together, laughing as they painted together. The easel was set up for Jax to reach it, so Az was sitting on the floor in order to reach it whenever Jax demanded that he contribute to their painting. 

Azriel was smiling and laughing with the boy, adding in elementary looking trees and bushes wherever Jax instructed him. 

By the end, they had a painting that looked very much like a toddler made it. It was nearly impossible to tell who had painted what: Jax or Azriel. 

You laughed as Azriel showed it off to you with a flourish, Jax excitedly bouncing on his toes. “Mom, can we hang this up at home?”

“Of course we can,” you grinned, your heart swelling at Azriel’s soft, loving smile.

Azriel came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder to look at your painting while Jaz was busy admiring his own painting. 

“I thought you said you weren’t very good,” Azriel murmured, his heart swelling as he took in the painting that you had created.

It was of that day, of Azriel and Jax painting together. Jax happily paints while Azriel sits on the floor, grinning at him, holding the palette of paint up for Jax to use.

“Do you like it?” you said quietly. 

“I love it,” he said, nuzzling your neck. “I love you.”

He felt you stiffen beneath his fingers and froze. He had just realized that was the first time he had told you. 

You twisted in his arms, turning to face him, your eyes shining. “I love you too, Az.”

Azriel’s knees nearly buckled with relief. He gave you a quick, sweet kiss, wishing he wasn’t in public. 

---

By Starfall, the three of you were really starting to feel like a family, and Azriel had never been happier. Cassian and Rhys teased him about it relentlessly, but he knew it was because they were happy for their brother who had finally found happiness like they had.

Azriel kept by your side, his hand on the small of your back as you navigated the crowded balcony on the House of Wind, Jax holding onto your hand. 

The three of you had spent the beginning of the celebration with the rest of Azriel’s family, and even though they had met before, Jax remained completely enamored with Feyre, Rhysand and Cassian, asking them a million questions about being the High Lady, High Lord, and the commander of armies, respectfully. The three just laughed, going along with it until Azriel deemed it was time to give his brothers and his High Lady a break. 

The three of you stood together, holding hands, looking to the sky as the music started and the spirits started to move across the sky, slowly at first, and then thousands of them, shooting across the world like shooting stars. 

Jax watched awestruck for a few minutes before he noticed that there were children playing a game on the far side of the balcony, and he looked to you excitedly, running over to them after you had nodded.

“Stay where we can see you!” Azriel called after him.

You turned to Azriel, hugging his waist, gazing up into his eyes lovingly. 

“What?” Azriel smiled, sliding his hand down your back, making you shiver.

“I’ve just never been this happy,” you murmured.

“I haven’t either,” Azriel said softly, leaning down to kiss you. 

Azriel pulled your body into his then, leading you into a slow, romantic dance underneath the falling stars. 

“Happy Starfall,” he said, gazing down at you with all the love in the world.

“Happy Starfall, Az,” you said.

[foreingersgod]

kate martin x girly reader and readers pet name for kate is “bear” because she’s so big and cuddly and reader calls kate “bear” in front of her teammates after kates game and they all tease her for it

Bear . KM

pairing: kate martin x reader

synopsis: your little nickname for kate has quite the impression on the team

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

you don’t really know when it started, but it just stuck. the idea to call kate “bear” conjured in your mind one evening, when you were laid atop kate’s chest with her strong arms wrapped around you. she towered over you in height by quite a lot and was the biggest, cuddliest, clingiest girlfriend to ever exist so what better pet name than “bear”?

“love you, bear” you had mumbled one night, yawning and drowsy. you offered her a toothy grin while your eyes fought to stay open.

you and kate had just gotten home from a night out, only leaving as early as you did because you were absolutely exhausted and about to fall asleep in the booth. your girlfriend had so graciously helped you back to your shared apartment where she dressed you into your pajamas and tucked you into bed.

“bear?” she questioned, climbing into bed next to you, letting your head fall onto her shoulder.

“mmm yea” you giggled, definitely almost sleep by now “you’re like my big strong cuddly bear, i jus’ love you s’much”

she chuckled to herself, finally hearing your gentle snores. kate thought it was sweet how you had come up with the pet name, loved that you were thinking of her. so she encouraged it, obsessed with the way it had sounded coming from your lips.

the buzzer had sounded, declaring the end of a wonderful game for iowa. the girls had won by a landslide against the other team. you had watched from the sidelines, like you always did, cheering the entire night as your girlfriend kicked ass.

when the teams post-game celebrations died down, family and friends crowded the arena floor. you followed suit as you pushed past groups of people to try and find kate. she was across the floor, glowing with excitement and talking to the team.

you bolted over towards her, calling out her name to grab her attention. she turned with the biggest smile on her face to see you approaching her. seeing you after a big win was one of her favorite feelings.

she let out a soft ‘hmph’ as you jumped into her, arms wrapping around her neck, kate’s large hands finding the small of your back. her nose nudged against your neck as she hugged you deeply.

“you did so good, bear!” you praised, pulling away from the hug to kiss her cheek “i’m so proud of you!”

“thanks baby” she said, holding your waist to keep you at her side.

“bear, huh?” caitlin teased “is that what we’re calling you now?”

the team laughed, making harmless jokes about the nickname you had for kate.

“shut up” kate chuckled back “that name is reserved for YN and YN only”

you felt a faint heat form on your cheeks, turning them a shade of scarlet. the jokes didn’t bother you at all, but you really did enjoy how she was quick to take full possession of the name.

“what about teddy? teddy bear? can we call you that?” gabbie chimed in “our big ol’ teddy bear!”

“whatever, you wish!” kate responded, shoving her playfully.

after a bit more teasing she finally started saying her farewells for the night “hey, i think we’re gonna head out, but i’ll see you guys tomorrow”

they all nodded, hugging her before she dragged you off the arena floor. you congratulated her again as you made your way to the car to drive home, making sure she knew how proud you are of her.

the apartment was quiet when you arrived home. kate dropped her things at the door before hopping into a hot shower before bed. you, even though she practically pleaded for you to join her, opted for getting cozy in bed. you listened to the flow of the water stop, listened to her follow her nightly routine to a “t” as you scrolled on your phone. when she finally emerged from the bathroom, hot steam trailing behind her, you were still awake.

“still up?” kate asked, already under the covers.

“can’t fall asleep without you, bear” you smiled. she looked down at you, biting her lip when she heard it. she would listen to you calling her bear on repeat if she could.

“i love you so much, y’know that?”

“always,” you replied “i love you so much more”

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Heated training | Steve Rogers

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 -> Avenger!Steve Rogers x Avenger!Female!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -> You’re training with Steve but when he is distracted and you push him down once again things become heated.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 -> 2.364

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> (E) 18+, Minors DNI, smut, dry humping, semi public sex, tiny bit angst, fluff

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 -> Hiiii! Could you write a Steve x reader where they’re training and she’s like having to tackle him and straddle him and he gets a boner and things get heated and ya know some smut and maybe the reader is Tony’s daughter and somehow word gets out that something happened and there’s some angst in there. Hope you’re okay writing this, thank you !!❤️ @myersmaniac

𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you for the request and hope you like what I made with it.

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 -> Fandom-Free Bingo: Book Night | N1 | semi private sex | @fandom-free-bingo | MCU Kink Bingo | N3 | Free Square | @mcukinkbingo

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

It’s nothing new that the tall and muscular super soldier has a huge crush on you. He always takes care that his hair looks good and that he is shaved, loving the moments you look at him with a smile on your lips. The way you talk to him, when you need to look up because you’re so small compared to him. It’s at least nothing new to him that he is in love with you; he can’t even remember for how long he has already been in love with you, but he doesn’t dare tell you or anybody else something about it. Not only because you’re Tony Stark's daughter, but also because he doesn’t want to ruin things the two of you have — the wonderful friendship he appreciates.

Steve loves to work with you, spend time with you, or just be close to you. Also, when he can’t touch you in the way he would like to do it, even when he can’t feel your lips all over his body or just cuddle with you in the way he would like, he still enjoys when the two of you laugh and spend time together. Whenever you look at him with those shining eyes and the most adorable and sweet smile on your lips, he loves to hear you laugh, especially when he is the reason for it. He could look at you for hours, admiring you.

“Rogers! Concentration! Otherwise, she tackles you down immediately, again.”

He rolls his eyes over Nat’s comment, even though she is right. You have tackled him down in just a short time since he seems too deep in his thoughts today. He doesn’t really train; it’s more staring at you, trying to grip your wrists before you throw him down, but he often fails to grip your wrists and lands on the ground in no time. Steve’s cheeks are red, and sweat runs all over his face and along his neck. His broad chest and defined abs are covered in sweat as well, his skin softly glistening in the light of the training room.

“Yeah- yeah,” he says, rolling his eyes before he grips your fist and tries to push you down.

But Steve gets distracted by your lips — your beautiful plumb lips, which are slightly parted — and your eyes, which shine like the stars at night. He gets lost in your eyes, and a moment later he feels the mattress underneath his back. You’re sitting on top of him with a big smirk on your lips. You don’t miss the way he looks at you — the way his eyes are focused on your lips and his eyes are slightly darkened. You feel a tingle on your skin when he touches you, but you try not to focus on it during training; otherwise, you both would just stare at one another.

“Sorry guys, Clint is calling. You both don’t mind me picking up?” Natasha asks, already walking out of the door.

Steve, and you look after her. When the door shuts, Steve tries to wiggle you off of him, trying to turn the two of you around, but you grip his fists and press them above his head into the mattress. Moving a bit on top of him to have a better position to hold him in place.

“What stole your concentration today, huh?” You ask, raising your eyebrows.

“N—nothing,” he replies breathlessly, trying to free his hand out of your tight grasp.

You narrow even more and cause your nose to slightly scrunch. Steve chuckles, using the moment of your confusion to free his hands, and tries once again to turn the two of you around. Steve thrusts his hips up, his hands finding their way to your hips. His fingers dig into the fabric of your pants, holding it tightly before he lifts you up. But he hasn’t thought you would jump and let yourself fall down back on him, landing perfectly on his growing bulge in his pants and causing both of you to moan.

Steve's eyes widen immediately, and thoughts run through his mind to find an excuse why his dick is hard. When you look into his wide eyes, you’re just as big as his, gasping about the sudden feeling between your thighs.

“F— Sorry,” he mumbles, blushing slightly.

“Why do you have your phone? No, your keys are in your pocket?” You ask, confused, why he thought of putting it out of his pocket before you two started the training.

“I— That’s not my phone nor my key,” he admits quietly.

You narrow, tilting your head slightly to the side, until you realize what’s pressing against your soaked pussy. It doesn’t feel bad at all, but you didn’t know he felt that way for you, or at least he wouldn’t get a hard on during training. But you straddle him for a few minutes already, so it’s understandable that he gets hard when he is attracted to you and when you move in his cock.

You slowly move your hips, feeling his length rubbing against you. Maybe you should get off of him, but it feels too good to do so, so you’re moving slowly, looking deep into his eyes while you wait for Steve to stop you from grinding against him when he doesn’t like it. But he gasps and digs his finger more into your covered skin, helping you grind on his cock.

“Princess, we—we can’t.”

“Why not? Don’t you like it?” You ask, pouting while you stop your movements on his growing dick.

“I love it— I—I love you, but—“

His eyes widen even more when he realizes what he just said. His cheeks heat up, and he opens his mouth to form an apology, but there is nothing he has in mind to say. He’s adorable when he is shy and slightly embarrassed — not that you like seeing him embarrassed around you, just that his lips are slightly parted, his blue eyes look so lovely but at the same time unsure, and his red cheeks — just hot and cute at the same time. First he got hard while training, and now he told you he loves you; he would face palm himself when his hands wouldn’t be clued to your waist, not wanting to let go of you because you could move away from his cock.

Your smirk grows when you lean closer, your lips just an inch away from his, and you can feel his warm breath on your sweaty skin. Steve closes his eyes, inhaling deeply, before he lifts his head and breaks the distance between your lips. His soft, pink lips move perfectly against yours, and he licks over your lips to ask for access. You’re parting your lips, and you're deepening the kiss until both of you need to pull away to breathe deeply.

“I love you too. Please— I need you, Stevie,” you mumble, moving your hips harder on his covered cock.

Steve groans, throwing his head back and giving you more space to kiss and bite into the soft skin of his neck. You lick a strap along his neck, chasing him to close his eyes and thrust his hips up. His bulge presses more against your covered pussy, and you moan softly.

“Everyone could see us!” He breathes heavily, looking through his lashes at you.

You sit up and smirk when your hands slide over his broad chest, and you start moving your hips at a fast but steady pace over his dick. He is panting underneath you; with his hands, he helps you to move on top of him, pushing you further down to cause more friction.

“S—Steve, I’m so close,” you whimper.

The tip of his cock is hitting your clit with every thrust, and you push both of you closer to your edge. He didn’t know it could feel that good without being inside of you, but it does, and he is just as close as you.

“Tell me we’re going to get in your room and do it again; tell me you’re mine,” Steve says, slowing your hips down.

Pre-cum is soaking his pants, and he just wants to push you more on his cock and guide you over it to make both of you come, but he wants to hear that you’re his.

“So possessive, huh?” You ask, teasingly.”

His answer is just a harsh movement of his hips. You moan and throw your head back, trying to move faster, but he stops you with his grasp.

“S— Stevie. We can do it as often as you want; I’m yours— I’m all yours, but please let me come,” you whine.

Steve grins, moving your hips faster on his dick and bringing you closer to the edge. It doesn’t take long for the two of you until you’re coming, clenching around nothing while Steve is soaking his pants with his cum. You’re both breathing heavily and calming down from your high when you hear someone coming back into the room.

“G— What are you two doing, sitting like that and doing nothing?” Tony asks, narrowing.

Steve chuckles, nodding his head. Tony just wants to inform you that you are going to have a meeting, but seeing you on top of Steve, straddling him, wasn’t something he expected to see when he came into the training room. Actually, the two of you are always trying to tackle one another.

“Oke—“ he pauses, nodding his head and inhaling. “Meeting.”

With that, he leaves the room, and you laugh. Your brother’s expression was just too funny. You lean down, capture Steve’s lips, and kiss him softly.

“After the meeting, I’m all yours.”

“You’re already mine, but then we repeat that here without clothes.”

You then get off of Steve. The blond-haired man looks at the wet spot on his pants and smirks when he sees you staring at his covered cock. You both take a shower because you get ready for the meeting Tony told you about — next mission, which isn’t really interesting for you since you only have your eyes on one another.

Steve and you have been secretly dating for a few weeks now. You often spend time together, which isn’t new to see for the others. Even when you smile in another way, your gazes are different — happier — but no one really asks about it. They are just happy that Steve and you are happy — still thinking you’re best friends.

When Tony asks you to come into his office because he wants to talk with you, you have a huge smile on your face. When you knock at the door and swing it open, you freeze immediately. Steve is sitting there in front of your father, who looks angry, and you swallow hard. The smile fades away, and you look slightly confused.

“Come in and close the door.”

You do as you’re told; you close the door behind you and walk toward the men, letting yourself fall down next to Steve on a chair. Tony looks at you before he moves to face Steve; he then points at the monitor on the desk in front of you.

When your father turns on the video, you gasp, your eyes widen, and your hands get sweaty. You hear Steve inhaling deeply next to you. He swallows hard and slides down in his chair. The video that Tony is showing of the two of you shows Steve and you making out on the floor before you pull him with you into your room.

You know Tony isn’t a friend of the men around you; he is protective and doesn’t want someone to hurt you. He already made your ex-boyfriend run away because he was afraid of Tony’s Iron Man suit walking without him inside the suit.

“D—Dad, I would say i—it’s not what it looks like what Steve and I did, but it is. B—“

“Rogers!” Tony says, his jaw clenching when he looks at your boyfriend.

“Tony, I—I don’t want to hurt her. I—I love her,” Steve says, reaching for your hand, but you pull away, afraid of what your father could say.

Steve sighs, looking down and inhaling deeply. He rubs his hands over his pants and sighs once again before he continues to speak.

“I would never do anything she didn’t want to. Tony, I love her.”

You smile softly, but your body is still tensed, and you don’t dare look at Steve. Tony nods, leaning back in his chair and tapping his fingers on the surface of his desk.

“Do you love him?” He asks, looking at you, and you nod, then he turns his face back to Steve. “When you hurt her, I will cut your balls off!”

Steve doesn’t know if he wants to smile or swallow hard, but he smiles, nodding and turning toward you. He places his hand in front of you, waiting until you place yours in his big one before he brings your hand to his lips and kisses your soft skin. Tony rolls playfully with his eyes, watching the two of you when you lean in to press your lips against Steve’s, soft and sweet.

"First, the gentleman an— Get a room!” Tony shouts, and you burst out laughing about the way he raises his eyebrows and grasps the surface of the table.

“We will,” you tell him, smirking when you get up and pull Steve with you.

With a wink at Tony, you make your way to the door of his office, leaving it. Before you can walk further through the floor, Steve pushes you against the wall behind you, attacking your lips with his.

“I love you so much, princess.”

“I love you too, Stevie.”

With that, he lifts you up and carries you into your bedroom, continuing what you have seen in the video Tony shows the two of you. And you’re glad he accepts what you have with Steve, because it’s special, and you’re happier than you ever have been since you've been with Steve. He treats you like a princess, like his perfect and sweet princess.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @felicitylemon @cjand10 @casa-boiardi @cevansbaby-dove @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77@bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @pono-pura-vida @princesscore-angel

[golden1u5t]

hollywood star | s.r x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: anonymous

ꨄ genre: fluff

ꨄ summary: you and spencer had been in the early stages of your relationship when lila archer came along(or her stalker to put it better). you already weren’t fond of her when she’d been giving spencer heart eyes the entire time but when gideon sent him to watch over her for the night, that really set you off. 

did he really expect you to protest against gideons instructions for him to be lila's bodyguard for the day? not exactly but he did expect you to have some type of reaction, something other than a glance in his direction before excusing yourself from the room. a small part of him wanted you to make a big deal about it but he knew that's not the type of person you are.

spencer didnt see you again after you left the room but he did look for you before he left to go to lila's house, though you were nowhere to be found. while he stayed at her house for the night, watching over her like the good guy he is, you were at the precinct with the rest of the team trying to figure out the unsub. you weren't exactly liking the fact that he would be gone with another girl all night but then again there wasn't much you could do about it, especially since you and spencer had only been "seeing" each other for a few weeks.

it had been some hours since he left with lila and you and the team were taking a break to have dinner. you had already finished with your dinner so you stepped outside to call him before you had to get back to working.

"how's your girl?" you asked him, your voice was practically dripping with sarcasm. you lowered your head since the wind had started to blow a bit harder since you got out there and you didn't want it interfering with the sound of the phone call.

"she's not 'my girl' and she's doing fine, a little flustered but fine nonetheless." he mumbled into the phone. when he turned around his eyes landed on lila in the kitchen pouring a glass of wine. he had stepped outside to take your phone call so that she couldn't hear.

"of course she flustered, you should've seen how she was staring at you with heart eyes and now she's got you in her home for the night." you shook your head and let out a soft scoff, your lips turning down into a frown.

there was a pause on his end which had you lifting up and looking down the street, biting your lip as you thought that maybe you'd scared him away with how straightforward you were. your thoughts were cut off by the sound of his voice.

"you're jealous." he stated, you could hear the smile on his face through his voice and it had you letting out a breath of relief but still rolling your eyes. "i- i like that. you're cute when you're jealous."

now it was your turn to go silent for a brief second, you could feel your skin start to heat up despite the harsh blow of the wind against your skin. "im not jealous."

"you totally are." you could hear spencer laugh for a second and then lila's voice calling his name, the smile you once sported dropping almost immediately.

you didn't particularly like lila even if she hadn't really done anything to you except like spencer, but in reality that was enough for you to dislike any woman.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 6

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

You can’t remember the last time you had the house to yourself. Even if your mother’s just next door, it feels a little lighter around there. And you’re happy for her. Maybe having Steve around will be good. He can be an outlet so she doesn’t have to put all her frustrations on you. 

She was happy when she left, even excited. That’s another rarity in your life. 

You start your day off with a tea. The apple cinnamon bags are a bit old so you use two. You bring the cup into your room and get your table set up with your pencils and sketchbook. You open the window to let in the sunlight, the natural light much brighter than the yellowed bulb above. 

You know your mom would tell you to do something more useful than just scribble in your sketchbook. You got the dishes done last night. Steve offered to help but you deflected as you foresaw your mom’s disapproval. You can’t let company pick up your slack. 

You try to wipe away the anxiety of last night. It’s over now. You shouldn’t have worry very much about it again. 

You finish your tea. It’s cold by the time you get to the dregs. You sit back to look over your sketch. Your eyes feel a bit fuzzy from hyperfocusing on that one stamen. You rub your brow and yawn. The sun shifts and you look over at the old alarm clock on your nightstand. It’s close to noon. 

Something else catches your eye. You look up at the window across from yours. The curtain ripples around the gap before it’s pulled open from inside. Steve stands on the other side of the pane. Can he see you? 

You can’t tell as he turns away without acknowledgement. The glare of the sun should hide your room well enough. You never really thought of it as your blinds are closed more often than not. 

You get up to rinse out your cup. You stretch your legs as you pace in the kitchen. You’re restless. You’re so used to your mom and her demands and expectations, that having your own time feels aimless. 

You could surprise your mother with dinner. Have it in the oven when she comes home. It’s still early but you can make something more than boxed macaroni. It will be a good cushion to fall back on when you remind her about tomorrow’s appointment. 

🏠

When your mother returns, you can see the fatigue around her eyes. For as little as she goes out, you’re not surprised. What strikes you, is how happy she is. You help her to her recliner and she sighs as she leans back. 

“Such a nice man,” she keeps repeating.  

You smile and let her regale you with a recounting of her day. Still, you can’t help but wait for the pendulum to swing back to normal. She leans her head in her hand, her eyes distant. 

“I swear, the universe sent him to me,” she says, “it had to. It was how much I need someone.” She drops her hand and traces her finger around the armrest, “sick, got a lazy daughter, stuck in this damn house...” 

There it is. You frown. You mash your hands together and waver. 

“I made dinner,” you offer. 

“I don’t want KD,” she snips. 

“I made... I made shepherd’s pie,” you offer meekly, “should be almost done.” 

“Hm, wondered what that stench was.” 

You frown. “I can put it in the fridge for tomorrow. Be good to have something we can just heat up after the doctor’s.” 

“Doctor?” She grumbles, “eh... I forgot.” 

She slumps and her eyes dull. You can’t help the pang in your chest. Sometimes you wish it was you who was sick. It feels like you deserve it more than her. 

“Hopefully it’s good. If you can get the surgery--” 

“Surgery!? Surgery. You keep going on about the damn thing,” she barks. “They can’t fix me, girl, get that through your head.” 

“I know, mom, but they can help--” 

“Like you help me? Crittering around here like a rat!” She hits the armrest violently, “would ya leave me be?” She closes her eyes and turns her face away, deflating once more, “ruined a good day...” 

You sniffle and slowly turn on your heel. You should have known better. You should have just left her alone. As much as she rants about you staying in your room, she prefers you there. Out of sight, out of mind. 

🏠

The next day, your mother doesn’t say much. Her silence is just a bitter as her words. You don’t push it. She gets in the car without argument and you set off into town. Even if she says it’s a waste of time, she listens intently to the doctor and answers all his questions. It’s only when she has to go through the tests that she shows her agitation. 

After some hours spent at the specialist clinic, you’re free to go. Your mom is just as quiet. You feel her mood roiling in the air. Her hand is shaking to the point that she’s hissing at it. 

You steer down to the corner and linger at the stop sign. 

“Mom,” you squeak, “you want some orange julius? A treat for the way home?” 

“Don’t talk to me like a damn child,” she snarls. “Let’s just go. I’m tired. Got no blood left in me.” 

You nod and bite your tongue. Maybe you can just put her to bed. Her naps are a respite, though you find yourself anxious in the silence, terrified of waking her prematurely.  

As you pull onto the suburban avenue, you slow and approach your drive. You pull in and shut off the engine. You get out and go around to help your mom. You open her door and she hauls herself out, tisking under her breath. 

“Didn’t see him,” she mutters. 

“Good afternoon,” Steve’s voice answers your question before you can ask. You look over the hood as he waves from his porch, “busy day?” 

Your mother steels herself and forces a smile, “just went to the doctors.” 

“Oh, everything okay?” He asks. 

“Sure,” she chimes, “just some tests. Nothing serious.” 

“Good to hear,” he stands behind the porch railing, arches crossed, “day’s not over yet. Still lots of time to enjoy the sun.” 

“Mhmm,” you mom grabs onto your wrist, shaking you as leans into you. “Nice day out.” 

“I was gonna do up a milkshake, if you ladies wanted to join me I got plenty to go around.” 

“Milkshakes?” Your mother considers, “mm, I’d have to change out of these.” She looks down, “smell like a hospital.” 

“Sure, take your time,” Steve says, “how about you, honey? I got strawberry. You seem like a strawberry type.” 

“Eh, she’s more a vanilla type,” your other cackles. “Plain.” 

“Got that too,” Steve ignores the joke. “I understand if you’re tired out though. Don’t wanna be too desperate over here, just wouldn’t mind the company.” 

“I’ll be over soon,” your mom assures him, “she’s got some laundry to do.” 

She keeps hold of you and points you towards the house. You help her inside, even though she does her best to hid how she clings to you. Her steps are uneven and stunted. You get through the front door and help her sit on the chair you keep by the door, just in case. 

“Goddamnit,” she’s shaking pretty bad. “Help me, you dumb girl.” 

“I... I don’t...” 

“Get my goddamn inhaler. I forgot it this morning.” 

“Oh, uh, okay.” 

You hurry down the hall and to bathroom. It isn’t in the cabinet. You go back out and scan the table. Not their either. You find it next to her recliner. You wish she’d keep it one place. You go back to her and hand it over. 

“I’m gonna go over,” she says before she huffs from the canister, “you’re gonna stay here. Out of my way.” 

“Alright,” you agree. You prefer that anyway. 

She takes a minute before she gets up. She shooes you away and you retreat to your bedroom. You sit on your bed and wring your hands, waiting as you listen to her. She doesn’t say goodbye before she leaves. Only the front door slamming lets you know she’s gone. 

You exhale and pull the fold out table up to the edge of the bed. You open your sketchbook and stare at the pencil. You don’t feel like drawing but you have nothing else to do. You just sit, looking at the amaryllis. You can pick out every flaw in your work. You close the cover and frown. 

A knock startles you and you stand up. Oh gosh, it’s probably Marge. What is it now? Is the siding too stained? Are the steps crooked? You get up and shuffles down the hall. You open the front door, hiding behind it as you poke your head around. 

Steve has the screen door propped open against his elbow. He holds a tall glass filled with pink, “here. Figured I’d bring this over.” 

“Oh, uh, thanks,” you accept the condensating glass, a wide straw poking out of the whipped cream topped drink. 

“Maybe next time you can pop over too,” he suggests, “I’ve been working on getting the pool going...” he grins, “it’ll be a good summer for it.” 

You nod and look down at the milkshake. 

“Really nice of you,” you say. 

“It’s nothing, sweetie,” he puts his hand on the door above him, looking down at you, “enjoy.” 

“Uh,” you look at him then at the straw. You don’t want to be rude. You put your lips around the tip and take a sip. “Mm, yup, good. Thank you.” 

His blue eyes stick to you and he drags his hand down the door, “I’ll make a deal. You come over to see the pool when it’s ready, and I’ll make you another. How about that, sweetie?” 

You push your lips out. It’s not nice to say no. He didn’t have to bring you the milkshake or invite you. You shrug. 

“Okay,” you agree, “erm, thanks again.” 

He nods and taps the door frame before he steps back. He gently closes the screen door and you watch him through. He turns and strides down the stairs. You shiver as the cold glass numbs your fingers. Hopefully, he forgets about the pool thing. You don't even have a suit.

[bitchiswild]

Pull Of Desire

G!P Kazuha x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: ummmm SMUTTTTT💃🏼💃🏼

A/n: Yalls help me come up with a title my brain is blank🧍‍♀️

Kazuha's life revolved around work, leaving little room for romance. However, she had a bold side when it came to flirting and physical intimacy. She enjoyed the excitement of these encounters, but had never taken anything further than a simple make out and gropping.

Living in the city, Kazuha would often find herself in casual settings, exchanging playful banter and stolen kisses. While she relished the thrill of these moments, her career always came first, preventing her from fully exploring her desires, until she met you.

Kazuha's evening took an electrifying turn when her gaze locked onto you from across the bar. With a confident sway, she made her way over, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she leaned in close.

"Mind if I join you?" she purred, her voice like velvet against your ear. You couldn't help but be drawn in by her confidence, nodding eagerly as she settled onto the stool beside you.

As the bartender poured your drinks, Kazuha's fingers brushed against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your veins. She laughed softly at your startled reaction, a playful smirk dancing on her lips.

"Smooth moves," she teased, her gaze smoldering with intensity. "But I'm not that easy to impress."

Undeterred, you leaned in closer, matching her boldness with a playful retort. "Oh, I'm just getting started," you countered, a flicker of challenge in your eyes.

The air crackled with anticipation as the banter between you grew more heated, each exchange fueling the fire of desire. Kazuha's laughter mingled with yours, the sound like a siren's call, drawing you deeper into the spell she was weaving.

Sensing the mounting tension between you, Kazuha suggested a change of scenery. With a coy smile, she took your hand and led you outside into the cool night air.

Once outside, the atmosphere was charged with anticipation, the space between you filled with unspoken desire. Kazuha pressed you against the wall with a gentle yet firm touch, her gaze locked on yours with unwavering intensity.

"Tell me," she breathed, her voice husky with longing, "do you feel it too?" Before you could respond, her lips captured yours in a searing kiss, igniting a blaze of passion that threatened to consume you both.

A surge of anticipation coursed through your veins, heightening every sensation. Her touch was electrifying, sending shivers cascading down your spine as her lips met yours in a hungry kiss.

The world around you seemed to fade into oblivion, leaving only the two of you in a cocoon of desire. Kazuha's kisses were urgent, fueled by a primal need that matched your own. Her lips moved with a delicious rhythm, exploring every contour of your mouth with a fervor that left you breathless.

With a daring hand, Kazuha tangled her fingers in your hair, pulling you closer as if she couldn't get enough. Her body pressed against yours, molding perfectly to your form as the heat between you intensified.

You could feel the rapid beat of her heart echoing your own, the shared urgency of the moment binding you together in a symphony of desire. Each touch, each caress was a testament to the unspoken longing that simmered beneath the surface.

Lost in the whirlwind of sensation, you surrendered yourself completely to the moment, allowing Kazuha to consume you with her passion. Time seemed to stand still as the world spun madly around you, the only constant the intoxicating taste of her lips against yours.

As Kazuha pulled away, both of you were left gasping for air, the heat of the moment still lingering between you like a smoldering ember. With flushed cheeks and eyes ablaze with desire, she met your gaze, her grip on your hair gentle yet firm.

In a voice husky with longing, Kazuha whispered in your ear, her breath hot against your skin, "Wanna go back to my place?" Her words hung in the air, charged with a potent mix of invitation and anticipation.

You felt a surge of excitement pulse through you at the suggestion, your heart pounding with the promise of what lay ahead. The thought of continuing this intoxicating dance with Kazuha, of exploring the depths of passion together, was too enticing to resist.

With a silent nod, you conveyed your consent, your own desire mirrored in the depths of your eyes. Kazuha's lips curved into a knowing smile as she took your hand in hers, leading you away from the dimly lit alley and towards her car.

As Kazuha drove back to her place, the tension between you both was palpable. Each stolen glance spoke volumes, the anticipation building with every passing moment. When you arrived at her apartment building, Kazuha wasted no time, taking your hand and leading you inside.

As soon as the door closed behind you, Kazuha pulled you close, her lips finding yours in a hungry kiss. You stumbled through the doorway, still locked in each other's embrace, the world outside forgotten.

In the dimly lit apartment, clothes were shed with urgency, discarded to the floor as desire consumed you both. Hands roamed eagerly over heated skin as you explored each other with a fervent hunger.

Your hands traced the contours of Kazuha's abs, feeling the tension of her muscles beneath your touch. Her breath hitched as your fingertips danced across her skin, igniting a fire within her that threatened to consume them both. In response, Kazuha's hands found their way to your body, gripping you in all the right places, each touch sending a surge of electricity through your veins.

Just as the intensity between you reached its peak, Kazuha pulled away, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "Wait," she whispered, her eyes searching yours with a mix of desire and vulnerability. "Before we get any further, I have to tell you... I've actually never done this before."

The admission hung in the air, heavy with the weight of its implications. For a moment, the room seemed to spin as you processed her words, the realization sinking in that this moment was as new and unfamiliar to her as it was to you.

But instead of hesitation, a wave of tenderness washed over you, mingling with the desire that still burned bright within you. Gently, you cupped Kazuha's face in your hands, your thumbs brushing away the traces of doubt in her eyes.

"It's okay," you reassured her, your voice a soft murmur against her lips. "We can take things as slow as you need. I'm here with you, every step of the way."

As you leaned in, the weight of Kazuha's vulnerability adding a layer of tenderness to your desire, you felt a surge of determination wash over you. With a gentle yet firm touch, you guided Kazuha onto her back, positioning yourself on top of her, your bodies pressed together in a tangle of limbs and desire.

With trembling hands, you began to undress, each movement deliberate and purposeful as you shed your undergarments, baring yourself completely to Kazuha's hungry gaze. Her eyes followed your every move, dark with desire and anticipation, a hunger burning within them that mirrored your own.

As you settled above her, the heat of her body searing against your skin, you felt the unmistakable evidence of her desire pressing against you, aching for the touch that would set her free. With a silent promise in your eyes, you leaned down to meet her lips in a fervent kiss.

"Are you sure about this?" you whispered against her lips, your voice thick with desire and concern.

Kazuha's response was immediate, her hands pulling you closer as she captured your lips in a hungry kiss. "More sure than I've ever been," she breathed, her voice husky with longing.

With her words echoing in your ears, you continued to explore each other with a fervent hunger, the intensity of your desire building with every touch, every caress. And as Kazuha's member hardened beneath you, throbbing with need, you felt a surge of power and desire coursing through your veins.

You shifted your position, straddling Kazuha's hips as you positioned yourself above her.

The air crackled with anticipation as you hovered over her, your bodies mere inches apart, the heat of your desire palpable in the air. Kazuha's gaze locked onto yours, dark with longing and anticipation, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she awaited your next move.

With a steady hand, you reached between your bodies, guiding Kazuha's member to your entrance. A shiver of anticipation raced down your spine as you felt the head of her member press against you, the heat of her desire sending waves of pleasure coursing through your veins.

With a slow and deliberate movement, you began to lower yourself onto her, the sensation of being filled by Kazuha's hardness sending sparks of ecstasy shooting through your body. As you sank down onto her, inch by agonizing inch, a moan escaped your lips, the pleasure overwhelming in its intensity.

Kazuha's hands found their way to your hips, guiding you with a firm yet gentle touch as you rode her, each movement sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body. The rhythm of your bodies was primal and raw, the sound of your moans mingling with the soft slap of skin on skin filling the room.

Kazuha's voice broke through the haze of ecstasy with a raw, primal declaration. "Fuck," she gasped, her voice husky with desire, "you feel so good."

With each thrust, each movement, you felt her body respond to you in kind, her whimpered words driving you to the edge of sanity with their sheer intensity. She was lost in the throes of pleasure, surrendering herself completely to the intoxicating ecstasy of your shared desire.

As the rhythm of your bodies became more frantic, the tension within you both reached a breaking point, threatening to consume you in a blaze of unbridled passion. Kazuha's grip on you tightened, her nails digging into your skin as she surrendered herself fully to the pleasure coursing through her veins.

As Kazuha's member rubbed against your insides, eliciting a delirious moan from your lips, you felt the need to express just how incredible she felt. "Oh, Kazuha," you gasped out between breaths, "you feel amazing."

Her response was a low, guttural growl of pleasure, her grip on you tightening as she thrust deeper, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable intensity. "You like that, huh?" she murmured, her voice thick with desire.

You could only nod in response, unable to form coherent words as the pleasure threatened to consume you. Kazuha's member was a revelation, each movement sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Fuck," Kazuha groaned, her hips bucking against yours with increasing urgency. "You're so tight, so fucking perfect."

With a primal hunger burning in her eyes, Kazuha's desire reached its peak as she flipped both of you over with a swift yet determined motion. Before you could fully comprehend the change in position, you found yourself beneath her, pinned beneath the weight of her desire.

Her dominance ignited a fire within you, the anticipation of what was to come sending a shiver of excitement coursing through your veins. With a fierce determination, Kazuha positioned herself above you, her gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that left you breathless.

And then, without a word, she began to thrust into you with a raw, unbridled passion that stole your breath away. Each movement was rough yet deliberate, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body with every powerful thrust.

"Fuck," Kazuha groaned, her voice thick with desire. "You like it rough, huh? You like feeling me pound into you like this?"

You moaned in response, unable to form words as the pleasure washed over you in waves. Kazuha's dirty talk only fueled the fire burning within you, driving you to the brink of ecstasy with every tantalizing word.

With each rough thrust, you felt yourself surrendering to the pleasure of the moment, the rhythm of your bodies becoming a primal dance of desire.

"God you're beautiful, my pretty girl," Kazuha growled, her hands gripping you tighter as she surrendered herself completely to the pleasure coursing through her veins.

And as you surrendered yourself to the sensation of being taken so roughly by Kazuha, you knew that this moment would be etched into your memory forever—a testament to the power of surrendering to the intoxicating pull of desire.

Your stomach fluttered at Kazuha's words, her dirty talk sending a surge of arousal coursing through your veins. With each rough thrust, each tantalizing word, you felt yourself spiraling closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.

"Oh god, Kazuha," you gasped out between ragged breaths, the pleasure overwhelming in its intensity. "Don't stop, please... I'm so close."

Kazuha's response was a primal growl of desire, her movements becoming even more relentless as she drove you both towards the brink of ecstasy. The sensation was almost too much to bear, the pleasure building to an unbearable crescendo that left you trembling with anticipation.

And then, with one final, powerful thrust, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of release. With a guttural moan of pleasure, you surrendered yourself completely to the ecstasy of the moment, your body convulsing with the force of your climax.

As waves of pleasure washed over you, you felt Kazuha follow suit, her movements became even more urgent, each thrust driving her deeper into the depths of ecstasy. With a primal growl of desire, she surrendered herself completely to the pleasure coursing through her veins.

You could feel the tension building within her, the rhythm of her movements becoming erratic as she neared the brink of release. And then, with one final, powerful thrust, she let out a guttural cry of pleasure, her body convulsing with the force of her climax.

As waves of ecstasy washed over her, you felt her release flooding into you, a torrent of warmth and pleasure that sent shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body. The sensation was overwhelming, the intensity of her climax pushing you over the edge into your own release for the second time.

With a ragged moan of pleasure, you surrendered yourself completely to the ecstasy of the moment, your body shaking with the force of your climax. And as you collapsed together in a tangle of limbs and sweat-drenched skin.

With a gentle touch, you brushed a stray lock of hair from Kazuha's face, your fingers lingering on her skin as you gazed into her eyes. In that moment, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in a cocoon of warmth and intimacy.

"Thank you," Kazuha whispered, her voice soft with emotion. "For everything."

You smiled, a surge of affection swelling within you as you pressed a tender kiss to her lips. "No, thank you," you murmured in response. And as you lay together in the quiet embrace of the night, you knew that this night with Kazuha would be one you'd never forget.

[hungermakesmonsters]

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Three

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R  Chapter Rating : M - frisky but not entirely smutty

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] There's some friskiness and a mention of a self-inflicted cut. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 4.8k

A/N : Keeping with my tradition of Billy going a little feral in the third chapter. Also a tumblr bug keeps messing up my tag lists.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO

Chapter Three

Sleep didn’t come easily that night. Instead, you found yourself tossing and turning, playing that moment over and over in your mind; the way his dark eyes had seemed to look right through you, the way his cold hand had felt on your neck over your racing pulse. Just thinking about it caused your body to heat and your cheeks to burn with shame.

What would have happened if he hadn’t pulled away?

What would you have let happen?

Fingers gripped the fabric of your satin pyjamas, your hand anchoring itself as you resisted the urge to relieve the gentle throb that still lingered between your thighs.

What had he done to you?

Had he done anything at all?

You weren’t sure. You’d heard stories of vampires seducing people, bending them to their wills but, honestly, it hadn’t felt like that. And if it had been that, why had he pulled away? No, you’d been annoyed with him, you’d wanted to show him that you weren’t some silly naive child who didn’t know what she was doing, only it had backfired.

Eventually sleep claimed you, his words echoing in your mind as you drifted off; ‘like sunlight and innocence, sweet, like warm honey.’

Five hours later, your alarm startled you awake. You felt exhausted but sleep had cleared your head enough to let you think more objectively and to help you realise that you’d been a little ridiculous. His touch had caught you off-guard but he hadn’t done anything to you beyond that and, if anything, you’d been the one thinking about him kissing you. You were the one who had wanted him to kiss you.

As much as you hated to admit it, you were starting to go a little stir-crazy trapped in the penthouse, and Billy was - well, he was just about the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. And while he annoyed you with the smug way he looked at you and the way he spoke to you like he didn’t think you really understood the world that you’d found yourself in, he’d been kind so far. At least, kinder than any employer needed to be to their employee.

In a moment of silliness, you’d allowed yourself to view that kindness as something more, you’d allowed yourself to engage in some ridiculous fantasy that he might kiss you, might want you, when all he’d really done was try to keep you company.

And Lissa had warned you of the effect that your embarrassment could have on vampires. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how your racing heart must have made him feel.

After getting out of bed, you tried to go about your day as usual, trying not to think about the night before but, instead, thinking of ways to avoid it in future. It didn’t take long for you to realise that the only thing that was going to stop you from going stir-crazy was going outside, being able to leave the penthouse for a few hours. You didn’t know what you’d do or where you’d go, but you were certain that it would help.

But you’d need permission to go outside, and that meant you were going to have to ask Billy. 

The more you thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed - of course he’d agree, why wouldn’t he? Your job was to provide blood, and all that really took was ten to twenty minutes of your day. As long as there was something waiting for him in the fridge every day, did it really matter where you’d been?

Of course, you understood that there were other rules, things you’d have to remember; only eating food from the approved list (though, once you started thinking about that you weren’t sure why that was so important), no sex (something you were embarrassingly used to), and not letting any other vampires feed from you (which you had no intention of doing regardless of Mr Russo’s rules). The point was that you could stick to his rules just as easily out of the penthouse as you could inside of it so, to your mind at least, there really was no reason for him to refuse to give you permission to go out.

You distracted yourself by doing some baking, paying more attention to the approved food list than you had since arriving. Maybe you’d ask Billy about it, get him to explain why you weren’t allowed to eat certain things. For one little cynical moment, it almost felt like he wanted to control every aspect of your life, even though your job didn’t require it.

Once you’d had dinner, you decided to remain in your rooms, distracting yourself with Netflix for an hour or so before it was time to draw blood and take it out ready for Billy. 

You stepped out of your quarters just as he was emerging from his rooms. For a second he seemed almost shocked that you weren’t in your usual place on the sofa, but he didn’t seem to dwell on the thought. Instead his eyes dropped to the blood in your hand.

“Excellent timing,” he said with a grin, heading towards the kitchen.

For a second you hesitated, not saying a word when you finally made your way towards him, watching his back as he pulled an insulated travel mug from a cupboard. 

Was going to take your blood with him? Was he going to walk the streets of New York sipping your blood like it was his venti cappuccino from Starbucks? The thought unsettled you, though you weren’t sure why. Still, you placed the bottle down on the counter beside him and took a step back.

“Did you not watch the sunset tonight?” He asked, his attention momentarily turning to you. You shook your head and mumbled something about being tired. If he cared, he didn’t let it show, quickly turning his attention back to your blood. “Still warm,” he remarked quietly, running his teeth over his lower lip as he poured it into his travel mug.

A memory from the night before came back to you, completely unbidden; the sound he’d made, that gentle almost-moan from the back of his throat. Your blood had still been warm then too - was that how he preferred it? Did it remind him of drinking from a person rather than a glass? You shook your head, trying to force that thought away.

“I -” you opened your mouth and the word just tumbled out.

Billy turned back to you, pressing the lid onto the mug in his hand. He waited a beat before prompting you to continue; “yes?”

“I -” you started again, your cheeks warming and your heart beating a little fast. The way his eyes narrowed a little told you that he could hear it, and that just made you feel worse. “I was wondering if I could have permission to go outside tomorrow.”

“Oh,” that single syllable making your request sound banal and trivial. He regarded you for a moment. “No, not to tomorrow,” he decided, but before you could open your mouth to respond, he continued; “we can discuss it tomorrow evening.”

“But, I -” you started but stopped the moment he let out an irritated sigh.

“Are you not happy here? Would you like to terminate your contract?” He asked, as if you’d been asking him for far more than just a few hours outside.

“It’s not that,” you tried to explain, again feeling so small in front of him, “It’s just... lonely being on my own all the time, and being cooped up indoors is -”

“I said we can discuss it tomorrow evening.”

You fell silent, gaze dropping to the floor as he walked away from you, heading towards the elevator. Once he was inside and the door had shut, you kicked the nearest kitchen unit in frustration, achieving nothing but hurting your bare foot.

Storming back to your room, you felt - you felt like a child, like you’d been refused permission to play outside with your friends. It felt like you’d just been grounded, even though you’d done nothing wrong. 

But you weren’t a child, you were an adult, and he had no right to make you feel so small and pathetic.

You paced your room in anger, feeling claustrophobic, like you’d never get to leave. He’d make you spend a whole year trapped indoors just because he could. It felt like you’d traded one prison for another by coming to New York, by taking this job. But, if you left now, where would you go? 

As much as you wanted to call Lissa and tell her you wanted your things so you could leave, you had no money and nowhere to go but home, and that fate seemed far worse than this one. 

Despite feeling tired, you spent another restless night before sleep claimed you, and you woke with a headache that followed you for the rest of the day. You felt listless and, for the first time since arriving, you didn’t want to follow the schedule that you’d created for yourself; you didn’t take a walk on the treadmill, didn’t visit the library to listen to music or read, you could barely even bring yourself to eat beyond some toast for breakfast and noodles for dinner.

He said you could talk about being allowed out that evening but, the longer you were left with that thought, the more you managed to convince yourself that he’d just say no. So, you decided to save him the effort of the conversation. You drew blood early, long before you expected him to emerge from his rooms, and placed it in the refrigerator for him before returning to your bedroom and locking the door. 

You spent the rest of the evening just like you’d spent the day; in your pyjamas watching crappy cartoons on Netflix, trying not to think about how you were going to survive a whole year of this when you hadn’t even managed to make it to two weeks before starting to come apart at the seams.

It was easy to lose track of time and fall asleep on the sofa in your room only to wake up a few hours later, uncomfortable and cold. You eventually went to bed, not bothering to set an alarm for the next morning, laying in until some time after midday. 

The extra sleep didn’t help matters and, somehow, you still felt exhausted. Something else you decided to blame on being stuck indoors. 

You forced yourself to shower and wash your hair before putting on some clean clothes, hoping that it would make you feel a little bit better about yourself. It did, but you definitely hadn’t done yourself any favours by not eating much the day before. You tried to make up for it by cooking yourself a proper meal for dinner.

Drawing blood left you feeling sick but you decided to get it over and done with early, so you could crawl back into bed, but you should have known that it wouldn’t be that easy.

When you stepped out into the penthouse, you were surprised to find him out there, sitting on the sofa, hours before sunset. You faltered, thinking about turning back, but you had blood for him. He didn’t even have to look to realise you were there.

“I must have missed you last night,” he said, finally turning to look at you, ignoring your obvious uncertainty. “Or were you avoiding me?”

“I thought my job was to provide you with blood, not be your friend,” you answered sharply, heading towards the kitchen, wanting to get the moment over and done with as quickly as possible.

“You’re upset with me?” When the question was left unanswered, he got to his feet and followed you to the kitchen. “Is this because I wouldn’t give you permission to go out?”

You didn’t even look at him as you placed the blood in the fridge and turned to head back to your room. But he wasn’t going to let you walk away. He stepped in front of you, blocking you, his cold hand beneath your chin urging you to look at him.

“I can’t fix whatever this is if you don’t explain it to me,” he told you, hand lingering beneath your chin, making sure you didn’t look away.

Standing in front of him like this, you finally got a true appreciation of his height and just how much he towered over you.

“You told me that I have power in this arrangement,” you spoke around the lump in your throat, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. “It doesn’t feel like I do.”

“You do, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now.”

“Then why can’t I go out? Why is it such a big deal for me to go to a coffee shop or a museum for a couple of hours?” You asked, trying to ignore the cold, light touch of his fingers. “Why do I even need permission?”

“Because it isn’t safe,” Billy stated flatly. “For either of us.”

You weren’t sure what explanation you’d been expecting him to offer, but that certainly hadn’t been it.

“What do you mean?” Your confusion written across your face.

“I thought you understood what you were getting into when you took this job,” Billy sighed, his hand finally dropping back to his side

“I -” your gaze dropped again but only for a moment, “- I thought I did too.”

As much as it made you feel helpless, like some stupid, naive child, you were willing to confess in this instance that you didn’t understand. But you wanted to. You wanted to know why he seemed so intent on keeping you in the penthouse, and why he thought your going outside might be dangerous for either of you.

“Just because this is legal it doesn’t mean that people are accepting of it. There are those that would hurt you to get to me, or simply because they don’t agree with our arrangement.” Another sigh slipped from his lips and you watched as his shoulder lifted in an uncomfortable half-shrug. “I told you, you’re my responsibility, and if anything happened to you -”

“Why isn’t it safe for you if I go out?” You asked, wanting to understand which of you he was truly trying to protect.

“Because I’m the monster that’s taking advantage of the sweet, innocent young girl’s desperation, keeping you in my thrall so I can drain your blood,” he stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world, as if that was what was actually happening here. “If anyone found out, they’d burn the building to the ground.”

There was something about his voice, something that you knew should have scared you, something dark and sinister. You felt your cheeks start to heat, and that strange unwanted feeling growing in your stomach.

“I’m not -”

“What? Sweet? Innocent? Desperate?” The corners of his lips curled upwards as his dark eyes stared into yours. “Or do you really believe you’re not in my thrall?”

Your cheeks felt like they were burning and, despite taking a slow breath, your heart started to beat a little fast. His lips continued to curl upwards, and it took you a few seconds to realise that he was joking.

“That’s not funny,” you remarked quietly.

“It doesn’t have to be funny,” he shrugged, “it’s what people will believe regardless of what I do.”

“It’s not like I’d go out and tell people what I do for you.”

“Of course you wouldn’t. Who’d want to admit to any of this?” There was a hint of bitterness in his voice and you immediately felt bad. 

As complicated as all of this was and as much as you didn’t like how much control he had over things, it was what you’d accepted and agreed to. He wasn’t holding you prisoner, you could quit whenever you wanted. By admitting that you’d want to keep this hidden, you were admitting to being ashamed of what you were doing, you were admitting that some part of you felt like it was wrong.

All he’d really done was give you a job. And all he was doing was trying to exist.

Billy allowed the silence to linger for a few moments before breaking it.

“Like I said, we can discuss the possibility of you going out, but I would prefer that you didn’t go alone.”

“But, how - I mean, you can’t -”

“Go out during the day? No, I can’t,” he decided to intervene and save you any further embarrassment. “But I have human friends or, if you’d prefer, there are plenty of places open after dark. We could even go to dinner...”

“Dinner?” It seemed like a strange offer for him to make. “I didn’t think vampires ate?”

Billy gave the slightest huff of laughter, no doubt at your lack of knowledge. He shook his head, obviously forcing back his smile.

“We can eat, it just doesn’t sustain us the way it does for humans.”

“Oh,” was the only word you allowed to fall from your lips. You had questions - so many questions - but you didn’t want to ask because it would just show your ignorance further. And it didn’t even cross your mind that your boss had basically just asked you to go to dinner with him.

“I can’t promise I’ll be able to arrange anything straight away, but if you really want to go out I’ll sort something out. I just need you to be patient, okay?” He told you and you nodded, not happy but certainly feeling a little bit better knowing that you’d eventually be able to go outside.

The conversation over, you wanted to return to your room and rest, hoping you’d feel better by tomorrow. But you didn’t move and neither did Billy. He stayed silent, watching you, considering you for a moment.

Then his hand was on your cheek and your breath caught.

“You look tired,” his voice soft now, sad even.

“I’m fine,” you lied.

“You’re not. You’re not sleeping enough and you haven’t been eating properly.”

“How -” you shook your head, deciding you didn’t want to know, but Billy decided to answer regardless.

“Your blood.” When you didn’t respond, he continued. “The agreement is that you stay in good health, that includes eating and sleeping. I know that all of this has been an adjustment for you, but I need to know that going forward you’ll do what’s required to take care of yourself.”

You almost wanted to laugh. For a split-second you’d almost thought that he might actually be concerned for you, that he might care about your wellbeing. But, no, he only cared because - what? Your blood didn’t taste as nice when you were tired and hungry? 

“Yes, Mr Russo,” you answered, finally forcing yourself to take a step back, causing his hand to fall away from your cheek.

He was about to remind you to call him Billy but, obviously, he thought better of it. Nodding, he let you go.

“I won’t be back until late tomorrow night,” he told you and, again, all you could do was nod as you slipped back through the door to your rooms and headed for your bedroom.

As you sat down on your sofa and turned on the TV, you couldn’t help but think over everything that had been said. You could still hear the bitterness in his voice when you’d admitted that you didn’t want anyone to know about your arrangement. With time to think about it, you knew it wasn’t fair; people might not accept or understand it but, really, it was no one else’s business what either of you did. Besides, what was the alternative? Plenty of people sold blood, a lot of them made a living working for blood farms. How was this any different? 

You even grudgingly understood why he wasn’t comfortable letting you go out without an escort. The longer you sat and thought about it the more conflicted you felt. Billy seemed to be trying and you were - you didn’t even know what you were doing anymore. You were being difficult. In part that was because of him, because of his demeanour, because he was just so damned attractive, but that didn’t excuse your behaviour.

Regardless of how you felt about him or about anything, you’d agreed to his conditions at the start of this and you didn’t get to throw a tantrum when you didn’t get your way. If Billy was willing to meet you halfway, then that would have to do.

Not wanting to think about it anymore, you sat back and watched TV, trying to relax before you finally went to bed.

The next day was a reset, you started your little schedule all over again, and you decided that you were going to make more of an effort. This was a job and you were getting paid over two and a half thousand dollars a day, you needed to remember that fact. You needed this to work out. It was only a year and, after that, you’d never have to follow rules again.

You felt better, you felt like the last few days had been nothing more than a bump in the road; you were still getting used to everything, still getting used to dealing with Billy, that was all. 

It was nice having some space, knowing that you wouldn’t have to try and make conversation with him that night. It meant you could sit and read out in the penthouse and watch the sun going down. Though, it would have been a lie to say that you didn’t wonder where he was or what he was doing.

Before going to bed that night, you drew blood and left it in the fridge for him, for whenever he returned. Tomorrow, you’d bring up the subject of going outside again, even if it meant going out at night with him. With a tired sigh, you closed your eyes and quickly fell asleep

The sound of breaking glass and a pained howl pulled you from your sleep. It was still pitch black outside and, without thinking, you quickly left your room and headed out into the penthouse. 

The lights were on and it took a moment for your eyes to adjust. The source of the noise was easy to spot; Billy in the kitchen, braced against the counter like it was the only thing holding him up, his head hanging forwards. The floor was a mess of blood and broken glass, and it was starting to become apparent what had happened here.

“Mr Russo?” You called softly, daring to slowly step towards him. He didn’t answer, so you tried again. “Billy?”

Tension seemed to fill his body, like a predator getting ready to pounce, but he didn’t move.

“Stay back.” 

It wasn’t his voice, it wasn’t that rough, dark tone that you’d been playing over in your head, it was something else. A snarl, an angry and desperate sound that had managed to claw and tear its way out of him.

Your heart started to pound, every ounce of common sense you possessed telling you to turn back, to lock yourself in your room. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t leave him not knowing if he was alright. It just wasn’t how you were raised.

“What happened?” A stupid question, but it helped break the silence. “Do you need help cleaning -”

He turned and your heart skipped a couple of beats, squeezing in your chest, causing your breath to catch. His dark eyes were almost completely black, like endless voids staring at you; his face was paler than ever and his hands were trembling uncontrollably at his sides.

You’d only seen something like this once before but you knew immediately what was happening.

He was  hungry.

“I said stay back,” his teeth bared, his voice causing your stomach to knot.

By the time you reached the kitchen, he’d turned to face you, his body pressed back against the counter like he was trying to keep himself away from you. You mind raced, trying to figure out what to do, trying to figure out how to help him. You couldn’t leave him like this - if not for his sake, but for the sake of anyone who might come across him.

(You were going to have to feed him, but you couldn’t let him bite you. You wouldn’t let him bite you.)

With slow movements, you reached for the cutlery drawer and cautiously removed a knife. You saw his eyes widen, a flicker of shock and fear on his face, like he thought you were going to turn the knife on him. But, without pause or hesitation, you drew the blade across your palm and offered him your bloody hand.

“Here,” you offered timidly.

“What are you -” but his words fell dead the second he looked at your hand. For a second he shrank back, fighting his nature as the hungry look on his face turned more desperate. Without warning, he surged forwards, taking your hand in his and pulling it to his lips. Your heart continued to race as you felt his lips against the wound, pounding an uncomfortable rhythm that echoed in your ears. 

You heard that sound from him again only, this time, it wasn’t suppressed; a guttural moan that vibrated through his chest as he pressed himself closer and closer to you. He didn’t stop pressing forward until you felt the counter at your back, his hard body against yours, leaving no space between you.

The floor disappeared beneath you. No, you quickly realised that you had been lifted up, placed on the counter. His hips slotted between your thighs, pressing closer still, and - oh.

You gasped at the hard outline of his cock between your legs and the way he started to grind himself against you. It was too much and not enough all at once. It was wrong and you knew it shouldn’t be happening but all you could think about was satisfying the dull throb that you’d felt between your legs for days. It wasn’t long before your cheeks started to heat, feeling the wetness of your arousal quickly soaking through your satin pyjama bottoms. Instead of coming to your senses and pulling away, you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer.

A whimper escaped you as his free hand slipped beneath your pyjama top, his cold fingers trailing upwards until his hand was palming your breast, his icy touch causing your nipple to pebble. 

The longer it went on, the more it felt like some wonderful dream, like it wasn’t really happening. You felt like you could float away at any more moment, the whole world turning on its axis, all because of him. You couldn’t think why, couldn’t summon enough rational thought to think those feelings through, not when you could feel just how thick and hard his cock was.

His lips pulled from your hand, leaving you feeling breathless. The blood smeared across his mouth should have disgusted you - everything about this should have disgusted you - but it didn’t. All you could think about was the euphoric sensation of his hips moving against yours, pushing you closer and closer to a breaking point, so you didn’t shy away when his blood-slick lips slanted over yours or when his tongue slipped into your mouth.

The taste of your blood on his lips barely even seemed to register. You didn’t care. You couldn’t care. Everything about the moment was intoxicating, you felt drunk, lightheaded, like you couldn’t even control your own body anymore. All you could do was exist in the moment.

Your hands gripped his shoulders, blood soaking into his shirt as you held tight. Soon enough, your hips started moving against his, desperately seeking the sensation that now felt so close. All the while Billy kept kissing you, letting out unrestrained groans against your lips, obviously chasing his own satisfaction.

Desperate for breath, your lips finally pulled from his, your head dropped back taking gasped breaths between your moans. But it wasn’t enough to stop the room from spinning, to stop the feeling of losing yourself completely.

“My little hummingbird,” you heard him groan. 

Fingers fisted his hair as his lips moved to your neck, rough kisses quickly giving way to sucking and licking at your skin, while the press of his cock became more frenzied. Then you felt the scrape of teeth against your throat and -

Your vision swam, overcome by the most violent orgasm you’d ever experienced; your body shivering and shaking with the intensity of it before you slumped forward into his arms, losing consciousness.

End Note : Idk why Billy always goes feral in the third chapter but here we are. Hope you all enjoy this chapter! Thanks for reading!!

Tumblr is being stupid and only letting me mention 5 people at a time so this week I'm going to try putting all the mentions in the comments for the tag list. Sorry if you didn't get tagged last chapter

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt.

Tag List:

Tag List : @vaguekayla @thdcre @rensolodriver @house-husband-of-castlemurdock @snowkestrel @danzer8705 @noortsshift @aoi-targaryen @lincerad @vxnity713 @readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure @dreadfulxives18 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @glamourbabe17 @sweetserendipity65 @damagelove @strangerfromketterdam @a-starrynightwith-u @readingabouthim @countryday

[xvysarene]

𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤 ℝ𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕗

Pairing: Zayne x Fem!Reader Words: ~3.3k Genre: Suggestive Notice: 3rd person POV, Mentions of alcohol, Slight OOC Zayne (not a teetotaler)

"I know a healthier way to relieve stress, doctor."

Alcohol-induced thoughts had rolled off her tongue effortlessly.

She had expected his towering build to abruptly rise and leave her right there, appalled by the provocative comment. A disgusted expression or an unexpected snort would be acceptable too.

Yet, when she finally dared to face him, those sharp eyes locking with hers was not something she expected. Overflowing intensity caused her skin to tingle.

“You shouldn’t offer what you can’t deliver, Ms. Y/N,” his lowered voice warned her, sending a chill down her spine on hearing the way he had addressed her so formally, just like when they were in the meeting room.

The room suddenly spun, but not from the alcohol. No, she only had two bottles of beer, just enough to loosen her tongue like this.

The response in her throat dried as she saw him sipping his whiskey sans ice, Adam apple’s bobbing as he swallowed the deep amber liquid after letting it linger in his mouth, taking in the smoky flavour.

“Well?” Perfectly arched brow challenged her.

Heart pounding rapidly in her chest, she took one last gulp from the barely touched third bottle to calm her nerves before subtly cocking her head to the bar’s exit.

It was one of the rare moments she had seen him smirk and not in response to a challenge in the medical field. 

The faint creaking from the bar stool was loud in her ears as he stood up, settling both of their bills with the bartender, and leaving a hefty tip. His surprisingly warm palm rested low on her hip as he guided her to his black sedan.

Mesmerizing city lights blurred. Her attention drawn solely to the sensation of his thumb slowly drawing circles on her thigh.

Next thing she knew, her back was pressed against the back of his front door, lips locked in a passionate battle filled with intense desire that made her knees buckle.

The strong thigh nestled between her heated core was the only thing stopping her from melting into a puddle on his floor. The friction, a welcome bliss, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her.

That was the beginning of the agreement, becoming a recurring occurrence whenever both of them needed to blow off steam from the stresses of demanding jobs. Him, saving lives, and her, dealing with difficult clients.

“Thank you for being my stress relief.”

His words cut through her second post-orgasm haze like ice water.

Somewhere along the line of what was supposed to be a no-strings-attached arrangement, small things like having a late-night snack together to deeper conversation during pillow talks grew to be a regular part of the deal.

Feelings for him had begun to bloom, much like the flowers outside with the arrival of warmer weather.

“Are you okay?” The sound of rustling sheets reminded her that she had been silent for too long while staring emptily at his ceiling.

“Yeah,” she simply replied.

Not satisfied with the answer, she felt Zayne’s fingertips lightly tracing above her collarbone, gently checking patches of skin that had turned reddish. They would undoubtedly be bruised by the next day.

“Was I too rough?”

Hands roamed greedily over her curves, warm lips on the sensitive dips and folds that he had become well acquainted with, growls of desire, and powerful thrusts flashed through her mind.

She tried to suppress the memories, though her body still hummed from the aftereffects. “No, just tired.”

He carefully took hold of her chin, noticing that she had been avoiding his gaze. "Y/N, you know you can talk to me, right?" his voice filled with concern. 

“I think that’s the problem.”

Zayne’s calculated hazel orbs bore into hers, searching for the meaning behind her words.

“I’m not sure if you notice, Zayne, but for a casual arrangement, things are starting to get complicated.”

It was his turn to drop his gaze. For someone as bright as him, it would be impossible for the situation to go over his head.

He too must have realised the way their dynamic had changed over time; they had spent more time together in and out of the bedroom. 

At times, they’d simply cuddle through the nights, providing a safe haven without the necessity for words.

She held her breath. There was no going back now. "It's starting to feel like more than just sex—it has been for some time.”

Retracted fingers sent a clear sign that he was about to take a step back, the gesture as clear as the darkness enveloping the night. The guarded mask was back once he met her gaze again.

"We both agreed that this was meant to be casual. I don't want either of us to end up getting hurt."

It sounded like an automated response even to his ears. He grimaced.

Y/N's heart sank. Despite the obvious signal of his withdrawal, his words still pierced her heart. "I see," she said quietly, distancing herself from him slightly.

Zayne could sense her disappointment and reached out to touch her arm. "Hey, Y/N, it's not that I don't care about you. I just…” his words faltered.

"I understand," she said, forcing a smile. "I believe it might be best if we stop doing this then."

He breathed out slowly. "Yeah, you may be right.”

A curt nod was directed at him. "I should probably get going anyway."

“Don’t be silly, it’s past midnight,” Zayne immediately stood up, trying to stop her. She tried hard not to look down at his abs or any other part of his anatomy. “I’m not asking you to leave. You can take the bed and I’ll sleep on the couch if you want.”

“I just prefer to sleep on my own bed tonight, but thank you for the offer.”

He watched as she quickly slipped on her clothes and gathered her things. 

“Let me drop you off at least,” he pleaded.

"I'll take the 24-hour taxi on the corner of your street and send you my location," she shut him down with the same assertive tone she used when closing deals.

As he closed the door behind her, a part of him wished she hadn't seen him at the bar that evening when he had let his heart rule over his brain.

“What is it?” Zayne took the pen out of his pocket and began to add his notes to the patient’s file.

When no response came from the direction of his office door, he exasperatedly looked up, about to shoot daggers at whoever was interrupting him.

Greyson, his assistant and regrettably a close friend out of work, stood in place, watching his every move.

“Less than fifteen minutes to the meeting; you were normally ready half an hour before that.”

The grip on the pen tightened as he concentrated back on jutting his notes down, making sure he didn’t miss any important details.

“I have some urgent things to attend to earlier.”

Greyson hmmed. “Yeah, things that you normally assign to the junior doctors so they can 'practice more' as you often phrase it."

Zayne knew that engaging with Greyson was futile since he would never win—a rarity, given that he would typically be the one in Greyson's shoes in any other situation.

“Let’s go, don’t want to be late for such an important meeting.”

As Greyson walked one step ahead of him, he did shoot daggers at the back of his friend's head all the way to the meeting room.

Nervous fingers, poised to adjust the tie, froze in place as he noticed Yvonne sent Greyson a knowing look once they entered the conference room before setting her eyes on him.

“Ah, Doctor Zayne and Doctor Greyson are here,” the hospital administrator greeted them from his seat.

He cleared his throat. “Apologies for running late.”

“Not at all, Doctor Zayne. You are, in fact, right on time,” Y/N said, acknowledging him after finishing setting up her laptop for the presentation.

"It's good to have you back, Ms. Y/N,” Greyson said as he took the seat across from him.

“Likewise, Doctor Greyson.”

“No offense to your colleague, but we were afraid we’d get a new account manager.”

The smile faltered slightly on her lips, clearly taken aback by his assistant’s nonsensical comment. “I had a business trip last time, which was why I had asked my colleague to step in for me.”

“We find that consulting with you is a more enjoyable process for us, as you're familiar with our requirements, isn’t that right, Doctor Zayne?"

Greyson’s sudden query left him unprepared. He sent his friend a quick warning glance before nodding, afraid that his carefully crafted pretense of nonchalance would slip away.

“Right, since everybody is here, should we start the meeting then?” the purchasing manager spoke when he finally put his phone down, not paying attention to the conversation as he was busy texting anyway. “Ms. Y/N, what new devices do you have for us?”

As Y/N started her presentation, Yvonne’s hushed words reached his ears, “Would you like some water, doctor?” The nurse’s hand appeared in his line of vision, handing him a bottle of water.

“Thank you,” he replied, making the mistake of looking into the nurse's eyes. Her perceptive gaze told him she knew how surprisingly affected he was by Y/N’s presence.

For once, he regretted instilling in those who work under him the importance of being observant of their surroundings.

Y/N’s fingers traced the rim of the glass, lost in the haunting cadence of the singer's voice. 

The lady poured her heart into each note. Each lyric dripped with the bittersweet of longing, a testament to love that lingered just beyond reach.

“Pretty uneventful for a celebratory night, don’t you think?” The bartender—Ethan, she had learned his name—approached her again once the end of the workweek crowd had slowly dispersed.

“Perhaps,” she replied, “but it allows me to rearrange my thoughts.”

She had found unexpected companionship with the bartender, who had recognised her from the night her loose tongue had led her into a difficult situation with Zayne.

Despite its prime location at Moonshadow Avenue, the jazz bar remained a hidden gem, often overlooked by the bustling crowds.

It was the perfect place to enjoy some time alone outside the confines of her home, feeling it a little too empty lately.

“People normally do that within the privacy of their home,” he responded knowingly. There was a kindness in his eyes, a silent reassurance that she wasn't alone in her solitude.

She sent him a small smile and savored the final drop of the ruby-hued liquid. A delicate hint of orange zest, weaving through the complex herbaceous notes, warmed her body.

Ethan took the empty glass. “And that, ma’am, is the last glass for tonight.”

When he saw her let out a playful huff despite the buzz that she was feeling, he offered a gentle warning, “Negronis can sneak up on you quicker than you think. Wouldn't want you making any bad decisions now, would we?”

"Alright, dad." Y/N playfully rolled her eyes to his retreating figure, feeling grateful for his watchful care.

As the band moved on to another piece, she cast a look around the room. Couples were huddled together, allowing intimate conversations to blend with the somber tones of saxophones and pianos.

The warm, honeyed glow from antique lamps illuminated their faces, creating playful shadows dancing across their features. Every exchanged smile spoke volumes of love in a myriad of languages shared between them.

Feeling a churn inside her heart, she grabbed her purse, ready to call it a night.

“It’s on the house,” Ethan tutted after serving another patron.

“I had more than one glass tonight,” she warned and slid the card to him.

“If I ever undergo heart surgery at Akso—God forbid,” he knocked on the polished bar to ward off any bad luck. “I’ll make sure to thank you personally for the devices you sold to them.” With that, he slid the card back across the bar.

Y/N shook her head at his antics and handed him a generous trip instead. “Thank you, but just this once.”

“Anytime, milady,” he quipped, bowing dramatically. “Get home safely.”

She waved goodnight and stumbled a bit, the buzz from the drink intensifying as she rose from the stool. Ethan’s advice was spot on—any more drinks and she might have found herself spinning along with the room, tripping her way out the door.

The cool breeze of the spring night air hit her, a welcoming sensation that helped clear her head. Phone in hand, ready to order a ride, she thought she caught a whiff of a sterile smell, a scent that reminded her of the corridors at the hospital. 

Heart racing, she looked up at the sound of a familiar voice softly uttering her name.

“Y/N?” he called out again as she blinked at him.

It was Zayne, still clad in the white shirt and light beige cotton vest combo he had worn earlier in the day, looking like he just finished his shift.

Though he had rolled up his sleeves, allowing the world to get a sight of his strong forearms.

A faint sigh slipped from his lips as he extended a finger in front of her face, moving it from left to right, checking to see if her eyes focused on it.

“You’ve been drinking more than I thought.”

“What are you doing here?”  Y/N countered, not expecting to see him.

Those unmistakable hazel eyes peered down at her, before looking to the side, lost in contemplation. 

“I need to see you. Figured you might have frequented this bar again and I was right.”

Her mouth opened and closed, mind racing on how to respond to that.

The lively younger crowd suddenly shifted, eager to migrate to a happening spot as the night was still young to them, and she found herself jolted into his embrace.

Apologies from a younger girl fell on deaf ears as her focus was captured by the arms securely wrapping around her figure.

“Let me drive you home.”

It wasn’t a question. The same words he had uttered the night she left his house echoed in her mind.

City lights blurred into a colorful haze, much like the first time she sank into the plush leather seat of his car, though her thigh felt empty.

The hand that had rested on it previously was gripping the steering wheel tightly, trying to restrain itself. The silence between them was heavy, punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine.

“There’s something I need to talk to you about,” he finally broke the silence when her apartment came into view.

Zayne turned off the engine and turned to face her. “But seeing that you’ve had some drinks, it’s probably better if we do this when you’re completely sober.”

“Meet me upstairs,” the words came rushing out of her mouth, surprising him and her both.

He looked into her eyes deeply. “Are you sure?”

She nodded swiftly and opened the car door, stepping out before she could second-guess her decision.

Upstairs, weary feet paced back and forth, the sound of footsteps echoing softly in the quiet apartment. Fresh breeze swept through the opened windows, bringing clarity to her mind.

Soon, there was a soft knock on the door, and her heart raced faster. She was met with the sight of him who had shed his vest and tie. That sure wasn’t helping her nerves as he somehow looked even more dashing than before.

She could feel his heat as he passed her. Suddenly, her apartment felt small with Zayne standing there, his presence filling the room.

“You have been busy,” he remarked when he saw the pile of papers stacked on her coffee table.

“I’m just trying to do more work to take my mind off…” she trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Of you.

“Of what?” Zayne prompted. “Is everything okay?” He genuinely looked concerned, softening her towards him even more, if possible.

“Just a lot in my mind lately,” she opted to say.

He hmmed understandingly and they resorted to another silence. Feeling parched, she took a swig of the chilled water from her fridge, aware that his gaze was tracking her every move.

"I saw you hurriedly walking down the hospital corridor a couple of months back,” he said quietly, “avoiding me as if I were contagious."

And yet, she had done it again earlier in the morning. After successfully closing the deal with Akso, the businesswoman's confidence evaporated as their hands clasped in a shake.

The familiar hold of his hand ignited a surge of memories, memories where he had once gripped both of her wrists effortlessly, guiding her into moments of ecstasy.

It prompted her to hastily make an escape.

"I just...didn't know how to face you, and I didn’t want to make things more awkward between us."

His hand caught her chin, lifting her head that had hung low from embarrassment. Her breath caught, only noticing how those broad shoulders were closer than before.

“I’ve missed you.”

Doubt stealthily crept into her. “You mean the sex?”

“That’s a totally different context,” he clarified quickly, "I care about you. More than I've ever cared about anyone else. And it drives me crazy knowing that I have hurt you.

“You were right, it hadn’t been just a casual arrangement for some time," he admitted, voice tinged with fragility that she had heard sneaking in within the safe space of their pillow talks. “I’m a coward who thought that completely baring my soul to someone will only end in heartache.”

“Well, I have a soft spot for this particular person who dares to bare his soul.” Her smile was gentle, though he didn’t miss the mischief twinkling in her eyes. “Did you finally admit that it was more than physical or is my mind playing tricks on me, Doctor Zayne?”

A small chuckle escaped his lips. “Judging on your playful quip even when I’m being serious and…” His thumb brushed against her jugular, feeling the rapid rise and fall of her pulse beneath his touch. “…seeing that you’re responding even to the slightest touch, it seems that you’re fully alert right now.”

Smouldering gaze pinned her down to the spot. Their heads tilted closer, drawn by an irresistible magnetic pull.

“Though, I never refuted that I didn’t miss the physical aspect, did I?”

A surge of heat rushed through that one spot south of her body. “So, Mr. Coward, what’s your next brave move going to be?” her words came out in a breathless whisper.

With a barely audible exhale, he grabbed her by the back of the neck. Mouths moved in a passionate dance of need, their kisses growing more desperate with each passing second.

As they fought for oxygen, he withdrew, forehead touching hers. “Are you sure this is something you want? Right after we talk about things between us are more than just sex?”

“Didn’t you confirm I’m ‘fully alert’ earlier?”

She tugged on his collar, drawing him closer until their bodies were flush against each other. The fabric of her pencil skirt felt constricting as his skilled surgeon fingers toyed along the waistband.

“Do you have work tomorrow?” she managed to gasp out in between her moans, tilting her head back, exposing the delicate curve of her neck to his wandering lips further.

“No,” he replied, voice thick with a feral need.

Puffs of hot breath danced across her skin, causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand proud. “Will you stay the night then?”

Full-blown dark irises locked onto hers, a sly curl exclusively reserved for her tugged at the corner of his lips

“I thought you’d never asked,” he breathed, before lightly nibbling on his favourite spot. The spot he knew would elicit the sweetest symphony from her lips.

Peppered purplish marks would for sure grace her neck for the next couple of days. And perhaps a few other places on her body too.

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Warm Blood

Gale / Astarion x F! Tav

(Warm Water part 3, can be read alone)

18+ miscommunication, misplaced anger, sex as a tool, yearning, confessed feelings, urgent sex, restraint, dom Gale, oral (f!), fingering (f!), masturbation (m!), marking, a little silliness

With a sanguine competitor now circling with the large druid, Gale can no longer put off his advances...

Masterlist, Prev Chapter

-

She hissed gently as he readjusted his hold. He would have to find a new vein it seemed. Even with him closing her wounds, their nightly feeding sessions left her skin tender to touch.

Her generosity staggered him. His body feeling far better in these last few weeks than it had in centuries. Lithe and strong. The bone aching cold he had resigned himself to thawed by her warm blood, her molten body pressed against his when he fed. Her rich blood nourishing him to his core.

Though, their arrangement made him uncomfortable on a fundamental level. She not only didn't gain anything in this exchange, she actively lost something. It was too unbalanced, and he'd be a fool if he thought the other shoe wasn't poised to drop. She would want something in return eventually, and there was only one thing he could offer.

Taking slow mouthfuls, he wound his hands around her waist. Kneading the flesh languidly.

It had baffled him when she had politely turned him down at the tiefling party. She was so handsy and touch driven, he was sure seducing her would have been rather easy. Though, there was still time. As far as he could tell she wasn't tied to anyone yet, though there were several circling already.

He slid the movements of his mouth from purely practical to sensual. Kissing and suckling gently as he drank.

She hummed, stroking his hair through her fingers.

Finding that encouraging, he slid one hand around her hip. The other rising to her ribcage, heading north.

She froze then. "Astarion, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" He purred, licking her wound closed with far more tongue than needed. Dragging a flat line up her neck. "Tasting you, darling."

"Why?" Her tone genuinely curious.

He scoffed, pulling back. "What do you mean why? You're beautiful."

"I am, but that doesn't answer my question."

Gods she was aggravating. Heat rose to his neck, her blood fueling the rush.

"Is it so unbelievable that I would want you? You must know your company is highly sought after." He tried for more compliments to loosen her up. But no dice.

"Huh, interesting." She narrowed her eyes slightly at him, lips pursing in thought. "So it's out of obligation."

He threw his hands up, eyes rising to the roof of his tent. His frustration breaking his mask.

"Of course it's out of obligation!"

Far too late, he realized what he said. Eyes lowering to hers slowly. Anxiety throttling his spine.

She only tilted her head at him slightly.

"It's okay. You don't have to, Astarion." She held her hand palm up. "Are you still hungry?"

He blinked at her. Anger flaring through him again. Though for what he couldn't pinpoint.

"So I just drink you dry every night, and you get nothing in return?" He retorted.

"How do you figure I get nothing out of this?" She asked in that aggravating curious tone, not matching his anger at all.

"Gods, don't give me that." His voice rose, standing and starting to pace. "That's not how the world works! There is give and take, and all I've done is take!"

She watched him continue to tirade quietly, appearing to just be listening. Somehow, that made him more heated.

Soon he slowed, his rant winding down. She watched patiently, open and waiting for him.

"Are you ready to hear what I think?" The question genuine and not rhetorical.

He huffed, breath still hard from his efforts.

"Fine. What?" He sniped, aware that he was being childish but too wound up to stop.

"I think you and I have a lot more in common than you realize, and I think I understand more than you give me credit for."

She paused, gathering her thoughts. "When all you get from people is pain, that's what you come to find in them. Even when it's not there. And when you don't get it, it's frightening. Yes?"

The air vanished from his lungs. Her eyebrows raised slightly, seeing that she had gotten through to him.

"In the Underdark, the only hand that reached for you was painful." She pulled up her sleeve, the tapestry of scars criss-crossing her dark skin revealed to him. "So that's what you naturally associate touch with. Anger. Fear of the flesh is survival."

She smoothed her fingers in a self soothing arc across the deep tissue. "You think I seek out touch because I'm naive, or even easy."

She looked up at him, those topaz eyes cutting straight through him. "But I know pain, Astarion. Intimately. I understand deeply why you have come to where you are, why you need to push others away. It's safe that way, yeah?"

He could only nod.

"You're right. It is safer." She conceded, smiling. Pulling her sleeve down. "Can't fault you for that. But I'm greedy, I want more than just safe. And touch is so much more than pain when you let it be."

His jaw clenched, biting back the lump that had risen in his throat. Wanting to retort, but finding no words that could validate him.

His hand shot forward, pulling her into him. Her soft lips sliding against his. Pulsing out his frustration into her plush mouth, needing so much more than he had taken.

She kissed him back tenderly, saying her piece. Not falling into his angry pit for a moment. Her soft touch in clear defiance to his inciting.

He pulled away, hearing footsteps approaching.

"Everything alright? I heard shouting." Gale lifted the flap of his tent. Making eye contact with her punctured throat with clear distaste.

"It's okay, thank you for checking." She responded warmly.

Astarion glared at him over her shoulder, the wizard giving him an equally leveling look.

"I think we could use some space, actually." She said impartially, turning to him. "Are you okay to stop for the night? I could give you a few bottles."

He sighed, rolling his eyes. "I think I can manage not withering away without this copious doting, darling."

She patted his arm, nodding. "I'll bring the bottles."

"Has anyone ever told you you're infuriating?"

She only smiled at him, turning to take Gale's upturned hand. Rising out of his tent. The flap falling closed on him alone again.

He flopped face down, groaning.

-

After she quietly dropped off two bottles of blood at the entertance to the crimson tent, Gale took her small warm hand in his. Leading her to the view overlooking the edge of the city. They were so close, the precipice at their fingertips.

She sighed wistfully, pulling him to sit with her on the grass.

"Baldur's Gate." She mused dreamily. "I wonder if it's as awful as I've heard."

He barked out a laugh. "Oh, I'm sure it's just atrocious. We're sure to hate it."

She laughed too, then gave a little thoughtful wince. "Ooh, Halsin is definitely going to hate it."

He was sure the druid was a fine person, but given his leanings, Gale was less concerned.

"Well, he can always stay outside. Who knows how much room our new camp will have anyway..."

She rolled her eyes at him, knocking her knee against his.

He caught her knee in his hand before she could pull it back. Rubbing his thumb in slow circles.

She slid up flush to him easily, leaning her head into the curve his shoulder.

"How are you feeling?" She whispered, the backs of her knuckles gently knocking on his chest.

"Ah, that." He chuckled, slightly embarrassed at her concern. "Oh, you know. Heartache is nothing new to me."

She leaned her head back and sighed dramatically at his joke, the edge of a smile on her lips.

"Just awful. I'm never asking again." She shook her head in solemn jest.

"Oh, please do. The healing touch of your disdain is tantamount to mending my heart."

He paused then, nerves fraying. The smell of his lavender in her hair bolstering him in a soft smile.

"I have been meaning to speak to you. About matters of the heart."

She turned to him, topaz eyes bright in the moonlight. Thick spirals of dark hair cascading down her back. Gods, she was so beautiful it made him dizzy.

He turned his gaze to the ground, picking up a smooth stone and turning it over in his palm. Having something to touch always helped him think.

"I've come to fancy you. Quite a lot. Though this is not the proper way I would have preferred to court you. In the dirt and blood." He sighed, wishing things were different.

"You must know you're... you're very special to me. I hope I'm special to you too, but if I'm misguided just say the word and I'll back off."

The words tumbled out of him, a vexing blush rising to his cheeks. Feeling like a school boy confessing a crush.

Her body shifted, standing on knees. In one fluid motion she hooked her leg around and straddled his lap. Bringing his eyes to hers in a hand tenderly cupping his face.

His breath was entirely taken, dropping the stone he had been holding with a soft thunk.

"Took you long enough." She teased, her dimpled smile making his heart rush.

"I fancy you too, Gale. And I'd like to show you that, if you'll let me." She hushed, her body heat radiating into his torso.

He could only nod, all blood rushing away from unimportant higher functions. Hands gripping her wide hips in a groan, the sensation far better than he ever could have imagined.

Her hands wound into his hair, pushing a heady kiss into him with a little whimper.

His eyes rolled up into his lids, just the kiss sending him under. Hand rising to the small of her back. Her lips pulsing into his with slick need. Tongue dancing along the seam of his lips in question.

He opened happily, a hungry moan leaving him when their tongues twisted. Both hands palming her ass greedily. The ample globes of flesh kneading in his fingers, her smothered mewl sending impossibly more blood to his already straining cock.

All of her touch spun around him in a lustful haze, far too much and not nearly enough.

He pulled his shirt over his head in a whip, only leaving her lips for a single moment. Her hands finding his trousers, palming him over his sleep pants.

"Fuck," He hissed, it felt too good already. Precum pooling far too soon for his liking. His body touch starved and hungrier than it had any right to be. Trying to force the tunnel vision of promised release open again.

He pushed forward, twisting her down onto her back. His hands rising under her sleep shirt to caress the unbearably soft curve of her waist.

"By the Weave..." He muttered, her body far too intoxicating. Cock throbbing insistently.

He felt completely lost, head nothing but liquid desire. Leaning down to kiss sloppily along her waist. Pushing her shirt up to her clavicle.

She squirmed under him, breath fast pants. Pulling his hair back in a fist, watching him with lust blown eyes and kiss swollen lips.

Gods, how was he already close. He couldn't be this down bad, could he?

Oh who was he kidding, of course he was.

He pulled her bralette down, her breasts springing free. A growl vibrated in his chest at the sight, gripping the front of the band, pulling it down onto her ribs.

He pulled back to slip her leggings off of her, revealing her arching hips, hip bones sliding underneath. Thighs wide and plush, dipping into her hips. Her legs falling back open, the curve of her ass teasing under her. Slick pooling from her gleaming cunt.

"Oh, come on..." He huffed, just the sight stroking down his cock in a rush. "That's not fair."

"You're one to talk. Why do you look like that wizard?" She scoffed. "All those muscles, for what? Seducing poor quivering maidens in the grass..."

"Oh, we'll get to the quivering." He smiled dangerously, leaning down to lick a stripe up her hip bone.

She whined, arching her hips up more into his mouth. The heat coming off of her cunt soaking his clavicle.

Gods below and above spare him.

Trailing his mouth down, his cock twitched in anticipation. His practiced mouth about to be seated where it longed to be. Where it belonged.

He breathed in a deep pull of her, nose nuzzling into her curls. Gods, she was divine. Her sweet musk making his mouth salivate. Truly he had been deprived before this moment.

Her hips starting rolling impatiently, and he pushed a forceful hand flat to her lower belly in response. No, he was going to savor this.

She moaned under his hold, bringing a smile to his lips. So she liked it like that...

He breathed a warm wave of air on her cunt, watching it twitch in what he knew was a clench in a devious smile.

"You bastard..." She groaned, the need apparent in her voice sending a shiver down his back.

"Language..." He chuckled. The lack of touch making her writhe deliciously under his hold.

"I'll show you language." She scoffed.

Grabbing both sides of his face she pulled his eyes up to hers.

"Bite me, choke me. Hold me down and spit in my mouth. Tongue fuck me like a whore, wizard."

His pelvis clenched, eyes rolling up into the back of his head. Hand clawing into her thigh.

"Oh Gods." He groaned, finally diving on her cunt.

He lapped his tongue in undulating waves, slurping her clit into his lips.

"Fuck!" She cried out, gripping his hair hard in her fist.

He suckled down hard, suctioning his lips around the bundle. Tongue pulsing wet curved pulls. Hands keeping her thighs forced open as they tried to clamp shut around his head.

Her high keening whines melded beautifully with the slurping sounds of his hungry mouth.

Her hips bucked helplessly against his hands, ribs arching up. Only the underside of her jaw visible above him.

He smiled into her cunt, releasing one thigh and pushing his forearm into the apex of her thighs. A bar holding her open still, his two fingers sliding slowly into her. Humming into her clit in pleasure, fingers spreading eagerly into the velvet slick pouring up into his palm.

Her head shot up, staring down at him almost in disbelief. Hand bracing her at her side.

When he began strong and slow thrusts of his fingers, her head fell back sharply. Voice only mewling calls. Thoroughly tamed, warm and pliant under his devotion.

He knew this was as close to the heavens as he had ever gotten. Harnessing all of his senses to bottle this into his everlasting memory. Though he imagined it would be very hard to forget.

He curved his fingers up, stroking that ridged bump in hard thrusts. Clamping down on her clit again, lapping his tongue in hollow pulls, like slurping soup.

"Oh Gods," She whined.

He groaned hot into her, chasing her hips up as they tried to squirm away. Free hand grabbing her waist and pulling her back down hard. He was not even close to done.

Fingers arcing into her in vicious thrusts, unrestrained. He wrenched his head quickly side to side, sucking down in popping wet pulses of his lips.

She cried out, her pelvis tremoring hard. Unable to hold her thighs open anymore as they arched up and clenched down around his head. Muffling around his ears. Cunt clenching in hard flutters around his fingers. He looked up, drinking in her arching ribcage and scrambling hands. A strike of fluid striking his jaw. Sending his eyes up into his skull.

His hips fucked into the ground, unable to still them any longer. Removing his fingers to slurp her cum into his mouth uninhibited. Pushing out of her in creamy pulses. Greedily lapping all he could catch, rubbing into her clit to encourage more.

She let out indignant pleading whines, but he wasn't done yet. His cunt slicked fingers gripping around his cock. Drinking her cum as he fucked into his fist.

Only two or three thrusts and he was gone, wrenching ropes up his belly. Pelvis clenching in vicious pulses, shooting pleasure through his body in teeth gritting waves. The endless ache behind his navel firing out in tortuous strikes. Hand bracing next to her hip in the dirt desperately.

His mouth slowed then stopped, panting hard into her thigh. Resting his head into the seam of her hip, thoroughly spent.

"That good huh?" She teased, her own breath telling of equal pleasure.

Head still down, he held his finger up in a signal to give him a minute.

She giggled, thoroughly pleased. "My, my, Gale at a loss for words. Wait until camp hears about this..."

He looked up, glaring at her in jest. "Don't you dare."

She smiled wide. "Hmm, I dont know... It's a pretty monumental thing to go unnoted. It would be a shame to keep to myself."

He trailed up her body, balancing on elbows above her. She gave him a pout, eyes wide in mock pleading.

"How else is everyone suppose to know I'm yours?"

His cock stirred again, huffing out a groan.

"Tav, you're killing me." He admonished. She only bit her lip in a smile at him.

"Well, if you don't want me telling everyone, you better leave your mark on me." She purred, turning her chin up. Eyes sparkling mischievously.

"Oh, that I can do." He smiled, angling his head down to her neck. Pulling the soft flesh between his teeth.

She laughed then moaned, that little whimper he was already addicted to in her throat again.

Oh, it was hopeless. They were going to be here all night.

~

~

~

[suguwu]

MOON EATER I THREE

"But truly, Master Diluc—why am I here?"

"I would wed you," he says, flexing his hands in his lap. "If you are amenable to it."

minors and ageless blogs do not interact.

masterlist

pairing: diluc ragnvindr x f!reader

notes: i've been sitting on this chapter for a while, so i'm excited to send it out in the world!

content: marriage of convenience, politics, some manipulation, pining, jealousy, some jeanlisa if you squint.

wc: 4k

The winery is almost entirely empty when Diluc steps inside after you. Jean is corralling the few stragglers, giving quiet orders to the remaining knights, her blue eyes as gentle as the summer sky. She’s in ceremonial wear and it hones her; he thinks of a sheathed blade. 

“Jean,” he says. “You don’t need to do that.” 

She turns to face him, a soft smile curling up on her lips. There’s a faint blush on her cheeks, the color of the pearly dawn. It’s the one she gains when she’s caught doing something she knows she shouldn’t.

(“Father,” Diluc said, innocent as a newborn fawn as Jean and Kaeya shifted at his side.  “You wanted to see us?”

His father eyed them with a raised brow. “I don’t suppose the three of you know anything about the pie that went missing from the kitchen.” 

Kaeya fidgeted with his sleeve, his slender fingers working at the cuff of it. Diluc elbowed him in the ribs subtly. “No, Father,” he said.

His father studied each of them carefully. Out of the corner of his eye, Diluc saw the blush rising to Jean’s cheeks, a soft pink that was slowly darkening. 

“Jean?” his father asked.

“I’m sorry!” she cried out, and Diluc groaned.)

“I was just helping—”

“Jean. You don’t need to help.” 

She bites at her lip and Diluc softens. He’d forgotten how much she needed to feel useful. But this close, he can see the bags under her eyes, the deep blue-gray of a stormcloud. “My staff has it under control,” he says. “And you’re a guest.” 

“But—”

“Go home and rest.” 

“I can still—”

“Jean.” 

“Alright,” she says quietly. “I just need to give a few more orders, that’s all.”

He nods and starts to step away.

“Diluc?”

When he turns to face her, he takes a sharp breath. There’s something like sorrow shining through her expression, something bone-deep carved into the curve of her mouth.

“Is this really what you wanted?” she asks. Her voice is gentle, but she’s watching him carefully, her gaze a comet streaking through the sky, the blue of it cutting through the heavens’ tender underbelly. It cuts through him, too.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he says after a moment.  

Jean smiles, starshine at dawn, a slow fade of light. “I thought you might say that.”

Diluc stays quiet, meeting her gaze steadily. 

“You’re as stubborn as ever,” she says, shaking her head, but her voice is fond. 

“Master Diluc? Stubborn? Perish the thought,” Lisa says as she joins them, wrapping her shawl around her pale shoulders. 

Jean heaves out a beleaguered sigh, but she can’t quite hide the twitch of her lips.

Lisa laughs, light and tinkling, looping her arm through Jean’s. “Come on, darling,” she says. “Let’s let the newlyweds have their night, yes?” She throws Diluc a bold wink. 

Heat scorches across his cheeks, a supernova burn. He’s able to disguise his choke as a cough at the last second, though from the glimmer in Lisa’s jade eyes, he hasn’t hidden it well enough. 

“Lisa!” Jean scolds.

The mage laughs again. She’s every inch the cat who got the canary, her lips curling into a delighted little smile. 

“Goodnight, Diluc,” Jean says, all but dragging Lisa away. Lisa lets herself be led, snuggling in close to the blonde as they leave. It smushes some of the roses in her hair, but she doesn’t seem to care that she’s leaving a trail of petals behind. Diluc sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Sorry about her,” you say as you join him. “She’s a handful.”

“I’m aware.” 

You laugh, picking a cecilia out of your hair and rolling the short stem between your palms. The bloom whirls with it, a ballerina’s tulle skirt, a light dusting of pollen floating down from it to tint your fingers gold. It catches the light as you raise your hand to cover your yawn.

Diluc frowns. “You should go to bed,” he says. “It’s been a long day.” 

You hum. “It has been,” you say. “I don’t suppose you intend to sleep soon?”

“I need to speak with Adelinde.” 

“Alright,” you say. “Good night, then.”

“Good night.” 

He watches you go upstairs, the hem of your dress flowing behind you, a silken spill of moonlight. 

You don’t look back. 

He turns on his heel. Finding Adelinde is easy; she’s in the midst of giving orders to some of the staff. She hands off a mostly-empty platter of tiny, delicate golden-brown pastries to Hillie when she sees him.

“Master Diluc.”

“Adelinde,” he says. “How is the clean up going?”

“We’ll be done with the food soon. The rest can wait until morning, I believe.” 

“Good.”

Adelinde pauses. She looks at him for a moment; her jade eyes have a knife’s edge to them, her gaze an autopsy cut. Her lips draw tight, a wound of a mouth. “You mean to go out tonight.”

“Yes.”

“If I may, Master Diluc,” she says, “you now have a wife.”

“That has no bearing in this. The Knights will be lax tonight, lulled into complacency by the celebration. I heard a few mention continuing at Angel’s Share after they return to the city. I cannot leave Mond unprotected.” 

Adelinde does not frown. Instead, her face smooths out into an impenetrable mask, porcelain breathed to life. “Very well,” she says. “At least wait until she’s asleep.” 

“The sooner I leave—”

“At least wait until she’s asleep,” she says, voice sharp. “It is your wedding night.”

“When she’s asleep,” he allows.

Adelinde nods. “Goodnight, Master Diluc.”

“Goodnight, Adelinde.” 

He goes upstairs quietly. There’s a soft light filtering from under the door to your room. He sighs and heads into the master bedroom, settling at the small desk in front of the windows. He lights the candles with a flick of his wrist; the flames devour the wick, leaping high before settling into a low, sweet glow. He’s just beginning to shuffle through a few papers when one of the hallway floorboards groans, a warning song.

“Diluc,” you say from the doorway. The candlelight barely reaches you there; it casts you into shadows, a new moon’s outline against the velvet of the sky. “May I come in?”

He stands. “Yes,” he says. “What is it?”

You step inside. The cecilias are gone from your hair, but you’re still wearing your dress. Your smile is a bit sheepish, but there’s a secret tucked up in the corner of it. “My dress,” you say. “The maids are all so busy. Can you undo the top few buttons for me?”

“I—what?”

“It’s hard to undo them from this angle,” you say. “Please?”

He takes a breath. “Alright.” 

You turn as he steps closer, the delicate train of the dress swirling at your feet, a whirlpool of silk. It exposes the line of buttons marching down the back of your dress, rigid against the soft flow of the fabric. 

The buttons are tiny things, pearls that shine like little moons even in the low light. He bites back a curse as they slip against the leather of his gloves. He tries again, gently tugging on a button, but it refuses to come out of the loop holding it tight. He changes the angle, but it’s no use; he runs afoul of the slick surface again and again. He huffs in annoyance and bites at the tip of his index finger to peel off his glove, letting it drop to the ground.

He tries again and finally, the button slips free of the little loop. The fabric separates. His fingertips—rough, heavy with scars from burns and blades alike—brush against the cool slope of your back, skin against skin. He goes still. 

You glance at him over your shoulder. You’re still shadow-kissed, but your eyes gleam in the dim.

(“Forgive my forwardness,” you said. “But there is the small matter of lovers.”

Diluc coughed. He glanced at you and saw no hint of a joke. “I beg your pardon?”

“Lovers,” you said, that rosebud smile rising to your lips, petals yet unfolded. “If you should take one, I only ask that you be discreet. I would do the same, of course.” 

Something in Diluc’s chest went cold. It was bone-deep, as if the Dragonspine winds were cutting through him. “You would take a lover?”

“I do not know the future,” you said. “But if I should, I would be discreet, as I said. Is that alright?” 

Diluc took a deep breath. “If you wish it, I would hardly stop you.”

You inclined your head to him with a little smile. You moved on to another topic like a river current, slow but inexorable. Diluc barely heard any of it, your voice muffled, as if you were speaking underwater. He only came back to himself as you gathered your things and bid him farewell. 

“Master Diluc,” you said at the door. He glanced up at you, your features softened in the light streaming in through the windows. “I should mention that I would not mind you in my bed instead of a lover.” 

Diluc choked.

By the time he recovered enough to speak, you were already gone.)

He undoes another button. Then a third, and a fourth, each little pearl slipping from its loop with ease. His thumb traces over the salt of your skin until it slips just beneath the fabric. He pulls just enough for the gap between the fabric to widen. He drags his thumb along the crescent moon sliver of revealed skin; a callus catches against you. You take in a sharp breath.

Diluc pulls back as if burned.

“There,” he says, clearing his throat, his cheeks hot. He knows they’ve gone scarlet, that there’s a deep flush painted over his whole face. “They’re undone.”

“Thanks,” you say, glancing over your shoulder once more. Your lashes catch the shadows like a spider’s web. It only serves to better illuminate your eyes. He swallows. 

“You’re welcome.”

You study him for a moment before you smile, as soft as the breaking dawn. “Goodnight,” you say.

“Goodnight.” 

The door clicks shut behind you. Diluc listens as your quiet footsteps fade away; there’s a distant thud as the door to your room closes too. He sighs, leaning down to pick his glove up off the floor. He slides it back on as he crosses to his closet. The night is still young and he knows what he must do.

When he’s dressed, he opens the secret compartment to his desk. He stares down at the owl mask that’s ensconced there. It gleams in the low light, the severe point of its beak a wicked hook. Diluc tucks it away under his cloak before he opens the window. 

With the lush vines clinging to the winery walls, it’s an easy climb down. He looks up when he reaches the bottom. There’s still a light glowing faintly in your window. His chest aches, as if a ribbon is tightening around it, but he ignores it and slips on the mask.

He has work to do.

—

Morning comes far too soon.

Diluc’s room is still steeped in blue, but the promise of morning is apparent on the horizon where golden fingers of light are reaching into the sky, scraping their way through the darkness. The birds are just beginning to stir, their chirps still subdued, a few plucked notes before the melody. 

It feels like Diluc has just only collapsed into bed, but the stars that had been watching over him when he stole back into his room have gone out, fading beneath the dawn. He sits up and scrubs a hand over his face, wincing as it pulls at the fresh set of lilac bruises blooming on his right side. He prods at them carefully. 

The ache sinks its teeth in as he brushes his fingertips along the biggest of them. It’s still darkening, a galaxy caught under his skin. It remains tender as he gets ready for the day; it takes effort to not compensate for it in his movement. 

By the time Diluc heads downstairs, the winery is already stirring to life. A few maids scurry past him; he can hear the vineyard workers starting to make their way through the vines, checking them after the harvest. But most of the activity is centered in the heart of the winery, where the remnants of your wedding reception are. He watches as two of the servants unhook a floral garland from the rafters, petals raining down beneath them. The petals whirl through the air like snowflakes, thick and white, and Diluc brushes one off when it lands on his shoulder. He’s in the middle of plucking another out of his mass of crimson hair when the floorboards whisper your arrival. 

“Oh,” you say. “They’re taking them down already? A shame.”

He glances at you. “I am sure Adelinde would be open to keeping them up, should you wish it.”

“It’s fine. I just thought they might keep them up a little longer while they’re fresh.” 

“I see.” 

You reach out and let a petal drift into your hand. It’s a little bruised at the edges from being shaken loose, but you don’t seem to mind. 

“Do you think I could have a few for my room?” you ask.

“A few—”

“Flowers,” you say. “I’m sure many of them are still intact even after the garlands are taken down.”

“Of course. Any that you would like.” 

“Thank you.”

“No thanks needed,” he says, adjusting his cuff. “It’s—this is your home too, now.” 

You pause. When you look at him, he can’t quite make sense of your expression. “Yes,” you say quietly. “I suppose it is.”

“I hope you will be comfortable here.”

You smile, the slow rise of a crescent moon. “I’m sure I will be. Though I intend to return to Liyue soon.”

“Of course. Do you know when?”

“I expect that I’ll return within the week.”

“Oh? That’s later than I expected.”

“So eager to be rid of me?”

Diluc flushes, the heat of it spreading from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. “No, I—”

“I’m only teasing,” you say. “I haven’t been back to Mond in a while. There are some things I should handle in person.” 

“I see.”

You examine him for a moment. Whatever you see must satisfy you, for you glance back at the workers, still diligently undoing the reception decor, autumn come indoors, the flowers stripped away to reveal bare wood. A petal flutters down into your hair; Diluc thinks of the gentle fall of snow. He starts to raise his hand to pluck it out but you shift and the petal drifts to the ground. He halts before tugging at his glove instead.

“Now,” you say, turning back to him, “I need something to eat. Will you be joining me for breakfast?”

Diluc shakes his head. “The vintners asked for me today,” he says. “The earlier I can speak with them the better.” 

You hum. “Okay. Have a good day.”

“You as well.” 

You flash a small smile before inclining your head to him. “Husband,” you say. You dart off before he can respond. He watches you disappear, the moon dipping below the horizon. 

Husband, he thinks. 

He’s not sure he’ll ever get used to that.

—

The days roll by. Diluc buckles down to work, caught up in the hubbub of the end of the harvest season. He oversees the grape crushing, the little fruits popping beneath the press until they’re must, all pulp and juice. A few small buckets of grapes are set aside for the children of the workers; they’ll stomp them to their hearts’ content, their chiming laughter drifting through the vines as they cling to each other for balance, their little feet dyed dark.

(“C’mon, Luc!” Kaeya cried, already scrambling towards the tub filled with ruby-red grapes. His eye was shining, starlight bright, a grin spread wide across his face, his usual reticence washed away. Diluc knew it was his favorite time of year; the other boy loved every moment of the harvest season and all that came with it.

 “Hurry up!” Kaeya called. He had already rolled up his pant legs and stepped into the tub, his face lit with joy, a summer sun in the autumn chill.

Diluc huffed but climbed in after him. The grapes popped beneath his weight, squishing up between his toes, a pulpy mess of skin and seeds. He stomped once, twice, and felt more of them burst. 

Kaeya reached for his hand; Diluc twined their fingers together and held on tight as the scrawny boy started to jump in place. Kaeya laughed wildly, the sound picked up by the wind and carried away like seeds. He jumped again and almost slipped. Diluc caught him at the last minute, hauling him up with a giggle. They joined hands again and began to twirl in a circle, stomping away as they went.

They laughed as they spun around together, holding on tight to each other as juice started to gather beneath their feet. Their skin went purple with it, a galaxy splashed up to their calves. The golden afternoon sun shone down on them; sweat gathered on their brows. But they kept going and going, unrelenting until the last of the grapes had burst beneath their feet.

They panted as they climbed to the side of the tub. Kaeya sat on the edge of it, swinging his feet as the maids went to gather towels for them. He was incandescent with delight, a shooting star streaking across the night sky, and Diluc grinned. 

“Good work, boys,” his father said, coming down the path. He’d clearly met the maids halfway; there were towels slung over his broad shoulder.

Diluc puffed up with pride; next to him, Kaeya smiled, shy but pleased. His father handed them the towels and watched as they wiped their feet clean.

“Ready for the next step?” his father asked. 

Kaeya nodded eagerly, but Diluc balked.

“Can’t we stomp more grapes?” he asked.

His father laughed, as warm as the sun. “Maybe later,” he said. “But now you need to learn what happens next.”

Diluc sighed.

“C’mon, Luc,” Kaeya said, bumping his shoulder against Diluc’s. “There’s always tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Diluc said. “There is.”)

Diluc sighs, nodding to Connor as he takes his leave. He heads back to the winery; a few of the workers call out greetings, but no one tries to stop him.

Adelinde appears as soon as he steps inside the winery. She inclines her head to him, her hands clasped in front of her. “Master Diluc,” she says.

“Adelinde,” he greets. 

“Is everything in order?”

“Yes,” he says. “Everything is ready for processing. It was a good harvest.” 

“That’s good to hear.”

“I’ll take some of Elzer’s work with the Wine Guild so he can concentrate on processing. If you see him, please let him know.”

Adelinde purses her lips. “Master Diluc, Elzer is perfectly capable of handling both. You have enough on your plate.”

“My decision is final, Adelinde.”

She examines him for a moment, her jade eyes sharp, a flaying gaze. “You don’t need to make amends for your absence,” she says. “That is the past.” 

Diluc flinches. Adeline watches him steadily, her face impassive, but her eyes have softened, have crinkled around the edges, sweetly fond. He flexes his hand, searching for words, but his tongue is leaden in his mouth.

Adelinde takes pity on him. “The vineyard workers are starting the fertilization process today and tomorrow,” she says. “Is there anything you wish to let them know?”

“No. I trust them.”

“Good.”

Diluc adjusts his cuff. “Is that all?”

She smooths her hands over her uniform skirt, as if erasing wrinkles that aren’t there. “Your wife’s travel arrangements are complete. She means to leave tomorrow.” 

He nods. “Where is she now?”

“She went to the Dandelion Sea, I believe.”

“By herself?”

“She has an escort. One of the knights. Though it is my understanding that the knight would not be able to return with her due to a patrol.” 

Diluc rolls his shoulders, trying to loosen the broad line of them. “When did they leave?”

The corners of Adelinde’s lips creep upwards, an ivy tendril curve, barely noticeable. “A few hours ago.”

He nods curtly. “Thank you, Adelinde.”

“Of course, Master Diluc.” She disappears, light on her feet despite her heels, barely a whisper of sound to accompany her.

Diluc leaves the winery to head to the stables.

—

The Dandelion Sea stretches vast, the flowers rippling in the breeze like waves lap at the shore. The sun is high in the sapphire sky, a halo burning bright, the dandelions stark white under its kiss. There are seeds floating through the air, faintly glowing, scattered like falling stars. 

Diluc ties his horse to a tree, leaving her to graze on some long grass, and begins to make his way into the Sea. More seeds come loose, dancing around him like snowflakes; they settle into his mane of hair, the crimson of it bleeding to something darker against the soft white of them. They catch on his jacket, too, dotting the ebony cloth until it’s a glittering night sky. 

It doesn’t take him long to find you. He can see faint figures at the edge of the Sea, where the trees cast shadows, a sweet pool of shade. He heads towards you as the breeze picks up. It carries a peal of laughter to him, bright as the sun, swirling around him. 

“Oh,” you say as he draws close, standing up before he can stop you.

The knight you’re with comes to attention—far too late. “M—Master Diluc,” he stammers. 

Diluc clicks his tongue. The knight goes shame-faced, glancing away from his thunderous visage. 

You smile, a glaze lily unfolding under the moon’s tender touch. You touch the knight’s vambrace lightly before turning to Diluc. His gaze stays on where you’re touching the knight still, your fingertips lingering against the metal of his armor.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” you say. “Is something wrong?”

Diluc blinks, vermilion eyes flickering back to you. “No.”

You pause, as if waiting for something. Diluc blinks again. Your smile flickers, a guttering candle. The knight shifts in place.

Diluc turns his attention to him. “You can go,” he says curtly. 

“But—”

“You have patrol soon, don’t you, Anselm?” you ask. “You should head out.” 

Anselm glances at you. “Oh. Of course.”

“Thank you for accompanying me today,” you say. “It’s appreciated.”

The knight nods, a slight flush rising to his cheeks. He gives you the Ordo’s salute. “Let the wind lead,” he says before turning to leave.

Diluc doesn’t bother to watch him go; he keeps his gaze on you. That rosebud smile blooms on your lips again, as inevitable as the sun’s rise. “Poor Anselm,” you say. “You have quite the scowl, Master Diluc.”

He doesn’t rise to the bait. “Was he going to leave you here alone?”

You sigh. “It’s perfectly safe here.”

“So he was.”

“You’re here now,” you say. “So it hardly matters.”

Diluc bristles. “It matters to me. The Knights have their duties—”

“They cannot attend to every single civilian. The roads to the Sea have been clear for weeks, anyway. Or did you see something on your way?”

He furrows his brow and sets his jaw. “No.”

“The Knights aren’t as incapable as you think,” you say softly. You peer at him through the fan of your eyelashes, the shadow cast by them soft against your cheeks. “And besides, as I said, you’re here now. I know you’ll keep me safe.” 

Diluc takes in a sharp breath. He tugs at his glove and glances away.

You don’t seem to notice. Your attention has returned to the Dandelion Sea. The meadow sways gently in the wind, a honey-slow shiver. You trace a finger over a dandelion; it stays whole despite your touch, the Anemo energy holding it together brightening for a breath before it fades again, a firefly glow.

But when you flop into them, the dandelions puff up, the seeds scattering like starfall. They yield to you like a blessing, giving you everything they have. The seeds catch in your hair, your clothing, your eyelashes. You turn your face up to the sky, the sun bathing you golden.

It strikes Diluc that you are pretty. 

(Burnished by the light, you were lost amid the golden leaves of the sandbearer tree. You climbed and climbed until you were shining bright in the cerulean sky, a sun all your own. Diluc watched from the ground, mouth agape.

When you glanced down, the shadows crossed your face in bold strokes. It softened you, blurred the edges of you. Except for your smile. Your smile cut through the shadows like a single stark slash of a sun-bright knife.

Diluc looked up at you, at that smile, and suddenly, he knew what pretty meant.

It meant you.)

It’s not the first time he’s realized it, but it feels new. It’s in the curve of your back, a cathedral nave of muscle and bone; it’s in the way the sun filters through the leaves to touch you like a lover, a stained-glass kiss. The dandelion seeds catch on your eyelashes like moonlight, and it hits him again: you’re pretty. 

And you’re his.

He pushes the thought away. You might be his, but it’s in name only. He knows better than to assign meaning to it. There’s nothing between the two of you aside from a certificate with your signatures upon it. 

But that’s fine.

That’s all he needs it to be.

[sethsclearwater]

okay hear me out - so i just learned on tiktok that apparently women get super easily attached to men (or women lol) who make them orgasm and i immediately thought of poly!paulxreaderxembry where paul is OBSESSED with making reader cum all the time and makes a random (unrelated) joke about her being super attached to him and embry is just rolling his eyes and telling him duh ofc she is - you're fucking with her hormones all the time by making her cum so often and paul is just DUMBFOUNDED at the fact that the main reason reader is so attached to him is because he literally just makes her cum multiple times a day.

embry is definitely one of the smarter ones of the group😭

...

"princess," paul started with a soft laugh, "you can come over here y'know," he teased when he saw your figure in the door frame of your shared apartment's living room.

your cheeks were immediately heating up to a bright red at his comment but you were nonetheless over the moon that he'd proactively offered to let you sit with him so you were quickly stepping over to sit down in his lap.

your other imprinter also let out a breathy laugh at the two of your's interaction. paul helped you sit situated so you were curled up in his lap but your legs could be outstretched enough for your feet to land in embry's lap, "so needy sometimes," paul teased, both boys laughing when you immediately buried your face in the crook of his neck in a weak attempt to hide your embarrassment over the whole ordeal.

"obviously she's needy," embry rolled his eyes despite the fact that you couldn't see it, a small smile on his face gave away he was just teasing you and paul, "have you seen how often you make her cum? you're fucking with her hormones doing that all the time," he added with a laugh.

you lifted your head from paul's shoulder at that, both you and paul wearing equally confused expressions as you looked at each other and then over to embry for some kind of additional explanation.

"every time you make her cum you release an insane amount of oxytocin and dopamine in her brain," embry explained, looking a little disturbed that neither you nor paul had any clue what the hell he was talking about. when embry saw that you two were still silently trying to process what he was explaining, he added, "those two make her feel attached to you which is why she wants to be around you all the time."

paul blinked twice, opening his mouth to respond to embry but nothing seemed to come out so he turned his attention over to you, "so what i'm hearing is embry needs to make you cum more often," he started, all three of you letting out loud laughs at paul's comment.

although paul definitely was a bit more obsessed with making you cum multiple times a day than his counterpart, embry was definitely not lacking in the releasing-your-feel-good-hormones department.

"i can't believe you didn't know that," embry said with a laugh, rolling his eyes as he gently rubbed your foot with one hand while reaching for the remote with his other so the three of you could get something on to watch before bed.

paul seemed content with his newfound realization, just settled for pressing his lips to the crown of your head, squeezing your hip playfully which had you giggling again as you got cuddled up with the two boys for a movie night.

[honeybeefae]

Cassian and Nesta head cannon that Nesta has to check in their closet and under their bed and leave a candle lit every night because Cassian is afraid that Bryaxis has turned up in the night court and is there to terrorize him.

AKSFALKSDJFASDJFASDF i love this

Nesta sighs as she finally collapses into their bed, the cool sheets a welcome respite from the heat and hard work of the day. Azriel and Cass had kept her and her friends on their toes while training, keen on making sure they were prepared for anything.

She's certain that tomorrow she'll have to ask for some balm for her legs but for right now, the only thing she cares about is sleep.

The moon is high in the sky, night air billowing the curtains, and just as Nesta feels herself drifting, she hears something. Or, someone.

"Nes?" Cassian whispers, his voice meek.

"Really, Cassian? What is it?" She knows what he wants and what she forgot to do, but after getting so comfortable, she can't help but snap at him.

"You forgot to check for-" Cassian doesn't dare finish the sentence, afraid that even speaking the name of the monster would bring her forth.

Tense silence fills the air before Nesta dramatically throws back the covers and all but stomps over to their closet, opening the door with a scowl.

Nothing.

Next, she heads to Cassian's side of the bed, making sure to give him a look as she falls to her hands and knees to look under the bed.

Nothing.

"I can't believe you, a grown Illyrian man, Commander of the Night Court Army, is scared of little old-"

"Don't say her name!" Cassian interrupts, making a cutting motion over his throat wildly. "Can you just light the candle? Please?"

She stands and looks him over, smiling at just how childish he looks with the covers drawn up to his chin and his eyes wide with fear. He looks like someone just read him a scary bedtime story. However, she knows there are things she still fears that some may find childish. Fears that would make her want to hide under the covers (if her pride would ever allow her to do that.)

So, instead of further mocking him, she changes her smile to something softer and nods. Within seconds, the candle is lit, and the flame is dancing to its own music, banishing whatever might be lurking in the shadows.

Cassian gives her a relieved smile, and she bends down and kisses him, patting his cheek, before pulling away and going back to her side of the bed. He is quick to pull her into his warmth, cocooning her and burying his face into her hair and neck.

"Night, Nes." He murmurs.

"Goodnight, Cass." She whispers back, falling into the most restful sleep she's had in awhile.

[shadowandlightt]

Of Nightmares and Memories | Twelve | Azriel x Rhys' Little Sister! Reader

Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven

You laughed as you walked through the forest with your mother and Michaa, your maid. Though, you almost could have believed she was your father’s bastard daughter. In another life, maybe she could have been your sister. You were on your way to meet Rhys, before continuing on to the War Camps to the north. 

You hated The Illyrians and their prejudice, but you loved your brother, Cassian, and Azirel. Although you weren’t sure if you’d see Az or Cass on this trip. It’d been too long since you’d laid eyes on them though, and you were aching to feel their arms around you. 

“How much further?” You groan, dropping your wings slightly, “Can’t we just fly?” 

“You know the winds are too strong today, my love,” your mother informs you softly, “I think we’d all father fly anyway, you know how much Michaa loves it.” 

The young woman only grinned and turned her eyes towards the sky. She was Illyrian too. Wings unclipped thanks to having been born in Valaris. Why she wasn’t in Illyria you weren’t sure, but you were glad to have her. Your life wouldn’t be nearly as fun without her by your side for all of the trouble you caused. 

You close your eyes for a moment and reach your power out, focusing on the soft shadows that lurked by the trees. You weren’t as good at commanding them as Azriel, but you had a small kernel of that power dwelling inside you. Something your father knew nothing about. 

I’m coming, you willed them to say. Before searching for their master. You felt his mental shields, just as strong and powerful as he. You stroked down those shields, gently, sensually. Begging for entrance to his mind. 

I’m in a meeting, his voice fills your mind. 

I plan on sneaking into your tent this weekend.

And you swear you can hear him groan. Not in frustration, but in wanting. You can feel it rippling through his mind. You smile down at your feet, heat rising in your cheeks. You knew the effect you had on him, just as he knew the effect he had on you. You were playing a dangerous game. 

Your father would likely kill Az if he ever found out. Which is why you had to get good at sneaking in the shadows, using them to conceal you from prying eyes. You were a quick study though, and was beginning to master the skill. Az was always proud of you when you manages it. 

Don’t get me in trouble today, he warns, although not sounding very convincing, I doubt the Lords would like it very much if I start smelling like I want you as badly as I do. 

You pause, nearly tripping over a fallen log. Your mother gives you a knowing smile, seeming to understand who you’re talking to. She only knew because she once caught Az sneaking out of your rooms just before dawn. Her and Rhys had been out flying all night and were just returning. She only smiled and turned around, wishing you both a goodnight as she went. 

I doubt my brother would like it very much. 

Minx. 

But you can hear the laugh in his voice. It fills your head and your chest, filling the void that always seems to be there when Azirel is not near. You rub your chest subconsciously, feeling that void a little more today knowing you’ll be seeing him in just a few short hours. 

“Rhys will winnow us to the camps, won’t he?” You ask your mother. 

“Yes dear, he’ll winnow you and Michaa first and then come back for me,” She tells you once more. 

I want everything with you, Az. 

I want it all too. 

You smile to yourself, knowing he meant it. If only your father wasn’t the male that he was, maybe you’d be allowed to follow your heart. Free to love whoever you wished. Not be sold for breeding when the time came. But you were still young, only eighteen. Marriage was still a good while away, thanks to your mother convincing him you still had growing up to do. She was right in some ways. 

“Pay attention to where you’re walking, Y/N,” your mother warned you, “Your Shadowsinger will still be there once we reach our meeting point.” 

You blush ferociously, heat flooding your cheeks so much that it radiated from them. Michaa smiled and let out a little laugh. She knew too, of course. You two sat up late most nights, when you weren’t out flying together, and talked about the Shadowsinger and just how wonderful he truly is. 

He’d seen such darkness already in his life, but yet his smile was still so beautiful it took your breath away. Sometimes that smile was reserved only for you. Sometimes you felt as if you were the only fae alive that got to see it, and you were okay with that. With the thought that he only smiled for you, and sometimes Cassian and Rhys. They were his bastard brothers after all. You were different though, you’d never seen him as a brother. From the moment you met him, as young as you were, you knew he was destined to be something else to you. You could already feel that strange tug in your chest, pulling you towards him. 

I’ll see you soon, you promise him, sending images of the two of you curled up together into his mind. 

You can practically feel him smiling against your skin, can practically feel him against you. You bite your lip, trying to regain control. But he seems to caress you in his mind, making you go weak in the knees. 

You pull away from his mind, noting how he seems to leave a small spot open just for you to return whenever you feel like it. You smile to yourself as you continue to walk. You wished you were strong enough to winnow more than one person, so you could just winnow to the camps and be done with this walking. 

But you weren’t far from the halfway point where you were supposed to meet Rhys. You would probably have to wait on him, seeing as he was apparently in the middle of training a new unit, but he would come for you one way or another. And he would take you to Azriel, whether he wanted to do so or not. 

But the shadows swirled around you as you reached a clearing. Your mother and Michaa falling silent. The whole world fell silent it seemed like. The shadows swirled, reaching your ears as you sniffed the air around you. 

Run, they said, run far and run fast. 

“Mother?” You question, smelling several distinctly male scents lingering in the air. 

She didn’t get the chance to reply before an arrow shot through her wings, causing her to scream out. You screamed too, seeing a flash of blonde hair in your vision, before arms came around you. Your wings vanished, too afraid of what might happen to them. But your mother, Cauldron, your mother’s wings. 

They grabbed Michaa next, holding a blade to her throat. You felt the cold steel kiss your own neck as lips caressed your ear. 

“Don’t scream,” He said into your ear, “Or I’ll slit your throat.” 

You swallow thickly. Fear gripping every part of you. You forgot the training Cassian and Rhys and Azirel drilled into you. Forgot that you weren’t a helpless little girl, that you had powers too. But all you could think of was the fear that gripped you and the smell of blood, your mother’s blood. And the realization that you were going to die, one way or another. 

You wake with a start, jolting up in your bed before hurtling yourself into the washroom nearby. You empty your stomach over and over again, before the sound of your bedroom door makes you stop. Cassian is by your side in an instant, rubbing your back. 

“I have them too,” He confirms, “Every night.” 

“I’m sorry I woke you,” You say softly, feeling the nausea fade. 

“I was already awake,” He sighs, sitting down on the floor across from you, leaning against the bath, “I heard you scream.” 

“It was that day,” You confide in him, “In the woods.” 

“We don’t have to talk about it,” He tells you slowly, “I don’t want you to have to relive it.” 

“I relive it every day. Everytime I close my eyes, it’s there.” 

His eyes soften at you. He reaches a hand out for you to take. He’d been too far away that day to get anywhere near you. He couldn’t have made it even if Rhys called for him. He didn’t know it happened until it was too late. He made it to the clearing not long after Azirel and Rhys, having flown as quickly as he possibly could. 

“It was Lucien,” You spoke after a long while, “I slept with Lucien.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” He replies softly, “You did what you had to do to survive.” 

“I did it to survive,” You agree, in your own way trying to convince yourself, “It kept Tamlin from darkening my door.” 

He sighs deeply, knowing you’d been through more than any of them. You watch as he gets to his feet, wings tucked in tight, and holds a hand out for you, “C’mon, let’s get you back in bed.”

You take his hand and allow him to pull you up before slowly walking you to your large bed. Big enough to accommodate wings, you realized. Big enough for more than one winged person. You had a lump in your throat, because once upon a time that was all you could’ve asked for. 

You climbed into your bed, allowing Cassian to pull the covers up over you before he walked to the other side and crawled in. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Not leaving you alone,” He said gruffly, curling his arms around your stomach and pulling you to him, “We all know you slept better when Az was in your bed, but seeing as he’s at The House of Wind, being an ass, I’ll just have to do.” 

You swallow and nod. Trying to fight the blush on your cheeks at his admission. You knew, of course, that he knew about you and Az. He hadn’t made his knowing very secret over the years. But was always smart enough to lose his tongue whenever your father was around. 

Now he didn’t have to worry about that. Your father was dead. You didn’t mourn him the way you mourned your mother. You didn’t feel the need to mourn him in that way. He wasn’t a loving man. He was the opposite of your mother. 

“Why won’t you fly?” Cass asked softly. 

“It hurts too much to try and summon my wings now,” You tell him honestly. It seemed that tonight would be the night to let all of your secrets go. 

“Hurts too-” 

You cut him off by rolling over onto your front, your nightgown cut low enough in the back to reveal two long scars stretching down your back. You know the moment Cass saw them, because he went rigid and sucked in a deep breath. He reached out, fingers carefully brushing the top of the scars. 

“Hurts in more than one way,” You confirm, “Emotionally, and physically. The scars are thick, right where the wings should be.”

“You didn’t heal?”

“Faebane.” 

He rolls you back over so you’re on your back now. You refuse to look up at him, refuse to meet his eyes. You can feel him staring at you though, you can almost feel his emotions rolling off of him in waves. 

You shake your head and roll back over on your side, “I’m tired.”

You feel him nod behind you before wrapping you back up in his arms. You melt into his arms, missing the feeling of being held by someone. Maybe that’s why you turned to Lucien all of those years ago. He was there and he was in pain too, and needed someone to help him move on. He was sweet and gentle and not at all like his ruthless brothers, or Tamlin. 

It just seemed to work between the two of you. There was no love between you, no true feelings. It was physical, and that was it. He would occasionally try to go to bat for you against Tamlin, but much like how he was with Feyre, he would never really push his friend for fear of what would happen. 

You fall asleep quickly, and do not dream again. 

 You wake in the morning to the sound of a door opening and a low growl. Fear rips through you and you refuse to move. Even as arms retract from around you, even as the male next to you sits up in the bed. 

“You don’t get the option of being mad,” you almost let out a sigh of relief at Cassian’s voice. 

You were in the Night Court, you were safe. 

“You’re in her bed,” Azriel growls. 

“All because you weren’t here,” Cassian shrugs, or you assume he does, “She needed you, and you were sulking because she did what she had to in order to survive.” 

“You know nothing about what she did,” Az growls again. 

“They carved her back,” You feel Cassian shudder in the bed, “Two long lines, right where her wings should be, like they carved her up trying to get to them.” 

You wanted to tell them that he was right. That’s exactly what they did. They carved you up like a piece of meat trying to find your beloved wings. The thought made you want to vomit again. But you refused, you refused to let them see you like that again. 

“Get out of her bed.”

“Brother, you know I’m only here to help her,” Cassian said softly, “She needed someone. Preferably you, but I made do.” 

The bed dipped as Cassian got up, leaning over long enough to brush a kiss on your forehead. It’s a simple gesture, but he’d been doing it since you were a small child, maybe even before then. 

“It was Lucien Vanserra,” Cassian said softly at the door, “Which I thank the Mother for. Because at least he still had a heart, before Amerantha came. For all he’s worth, he was a good male, once upon a time.” 

Azirel growls again and shuts the door in Cassian’s face. Az’s shadows make their way towards you, curling around your body as Az slowly moves closer. You know they’ll tell him that you’re awake, but maybe he’ll ignore them and let you continue this farce. 

“I’m sorry,” He said pulling a chair up to the edge of your bed, “I should have handled things better yesterday.”

You finally peel your eyes open to see him leaning over, hands folded on your bed. You want to reach for those hands, those beautifully scarred hands. You wanted to kiss them again, like you used to do all those years ago. But it didn’t feel right anymore. 

“I shouldn’t have said what I did,” You admit, “It was wrong of me. I aimed to hurt you, and that’s something I promised I’d never do.” 

His head shook slowly, “I hurt you too. I promised I wouldn’t let you go. And instead I turned my back on you the second you said something I didn’t like.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows and reach over to brush a few strands of hair out of his eyes. You missed his eyes, so telling to you and cold to everyone else. The Shadowsinger of the Night Court, violent, cold, and deadly, yet so soft and warm to you. 

“I love you, Azriel,” You admit softly, feeling his shadows gather on your back. 

You knew what they were doing, even if he didn’t, but you didn’t try to stop them. He would want to see them eventually. But not this morning. Not when you already felt so laid bare in front of him. 

“I know you do,” He leans forward to kiss you, “I love you too. C’mon, Rhys said he should be back today. And Mor is waiting downstairs to eat breakfast with us.” 

So you find yourself sipping on coffee and eating a rich pastry with Mor when Rhys, and a very soaking wet Feyre and Amren slam into the floor of the living room. You all shoot to your feet. Moving towards the three quickly. 

“What the hell happened?” You questioned. 

“I’d like to know the same thing,” Rhys stated. 

“Did you get it?” Is all Mor can think to say. 

“Get what?” Your head rips to her and then back to Rhys. 

“Nothing.”

“No!” You yell, “Not nothing! Obviously not nothing. What happened in Summer?” 

And then you hear it, you hear the book.

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[cerisahh]

GREEN-EYED GIRL

SYNOPSIS ꒱ gun gives goo's number to someone flirting with him, reader is unaware and gets jealous

REQUEST ꒱ hiiiiii may i request a drabble of gun x f!reader where he took her out on a date but when she went to the restroom she saw a girl ask him his number and he still gave it to her (and reader got jealous lol), but it turns out that he gave goo's number instead of his to that girl. eventually gun found her jealousy cute and decided to tease her before revealing the truth to her >< thankewww <3 - @vynnyll

NOTE ꒱ THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE!!! thank you for the request, vynn. it was a pleasure experimenting with this one!

Gun isn't exactly what most would call a 'hopeless romantic'.

That's why you're surprised when he asks you to have dinner at an exclusive restaurant in the heart of town. Not that you hadn't gone on dates before, but they tended to be more secluded, the atmosphere more relaxed. Not right in the hustle and bustle of central seoul.

Now imagine your further surprise when he turns up at your apartment the night before with the most gorgeous gown - because it would be a great disservice to simply call it a dress - and a smirking grin at your instant fawning.

Your boyfriend delivering an outfit for you to wear to a date? Now this is pretty romantic.

"I take it you like the dress?" He asks, still holding the gown as you continue to pour over the details and embroidery.

"Like it?" You say breathlessly, still mesmerised, "Oh, Gun, you really didn't have to - I love it - but you really didn't have to."

"I wanted to, so I did." The corners of his lips lift up into a slight smirk, "Besides, you shouldn't thank me too much. Not like you're gonna be wearing it for long."

"Gun!"

Romantic while it lasted, anyway.

You kick him out shortly after so he can return to his work, and so you can return to admiring this masterpiece. Seriously, where did he find this?

You go to sleep late that night, having tried on the gown and pretending you were a princess for an entire hour. I mean, no judgement, you look like one in that getup.

Gun arrives at your door at seven o'clock sharp. The door opens and it takes quite a fair amount of willpower for his jaw to not go slack.

You look breathtaking. He notices you've done your hair up all fancy and you've adorned yourself with jewelry that matches your outfit perfectly. He chose the right dress for sure. And the right girl.

"My, my." His arm snakes behind you at your waist and pulls you closer to him. Mine, he thinks, "Don't you look delectable."

"Delectable is certainly a choice of words." You grin, relaxing into him, placing your own hands atop his chest.

He hums and it reverberates through his chest, "I can think of a few more. Ravishing, opulent, enchanting," With each word his hands wander until you're flush up against him and the wall. God forbid any of your neighbours decide to peek their head out of their doors. One wrong move from him - or right, depends on how you're looking at things - will have you both tumbling back into your apartment and forgetting about your date tonight. Besides, you did not want him roughing up your dress.

You will your heated cheeks to cool down, "You can add late for our reservation to the list if you carry on that way."

He does, in fact, carry on that way. You both arrive at the restaurant twenty minutes later than what you had arranged, which is shrugged off by the waitstaff due to the fact that Gun knows the owner personally.

Which is another way of saying that Gun had threatened the owner personally, but who cares about details.

You two are escorted to a more secluded part of the restaurant, well, as secluded as the place could really get. It was a weekend so naturally it would be full of more people.

Gun levels a threatening glare at the waiter before he gets the chance to pull out your chair, doing so himself much to your amusement.

“Someone fancies themselves a gentleman tonight.” You muse, patting down the skirt of your gown as it adjusted to the chair.

“Gotta get in all the niceties before I get you back to my place tonight.”

Gun was lucky you had the patience of a saint right now, otherwise you would have flicked him with the cloth napkin you were holding.

The dinner was nothing short of delightful. You're no stranger to the finer things in life but between the food and the company in attendance, you had no complaints. It was nice to be seen in a more public place with Gun, somewhere that didn't involve fighting or gang wars.

It wasn't as nice to see a woman a few tables behind Gun's shoulder staring at you two. What was her problem?

"I need to powder my nose." You say to Gun, who was in the middle of taking a bite of a particularly bloody slice of steak. How he can stomach eating meat that rare you'll never know.

He hums, chewing thoughtfully, "You just said that to sound fancy, didn't you."

"Would you rather all the grizzly details of my bathroom escapades?" You ask, folding your arms against your chest.

"Would you judge me if I said yes?"

"Might do."

"Then no."

You roll your eyes and walk yourself to the bathroom, checking your hair to make sure it hasn't lost any of its volume or shape, it could use a little hairspray. Good thing you have your bag and a patient boyfriend.

Almost as soon as you left to 'powder your nose' - Gun thinks that saying is ridiculous, by the way - some woman wearing a dress that is way too low cut for the establishment they're in had sauntered up to him and started talking. About what, he wasn't sure, he wasn't in the mood to entertain some random whore who was clearly only looking for a rich man and a quick lay.

He notices she's stopped talking a few seconds too late and watches as her phone is pushed into his field of view - effectively moving his plate of food away, the arrogant bitch - he picks it up and stares at it for a moment, before putting Goo's number into her contacts. He's been pissing him off more than usual lately, he can deal with whatever train wreck is standing next to him.

"Are you busy later, handsome?"

Would this girl just fuck off already? She already thinks she's got his number so what more could she possibly want? He opens his mouth to tell her something of that nature before he gets interrupted.

"He is."

You're standing behind her glaring with your arms folded, mostly glowering at the woman but he sees you flicker that murderous gaze at him too.

Would it be so wrong to say he liked it?

Coming back to your table to see the staring woman, who now that you're looking closer looks like she's wearing an awfully cheap Jessica Rabbit cosplay, flirting with your boyfriend for everyone to see was not on your bucket list for tonight.

Seeing him put his number into her phone wasn't exactly thrilling either.

The woman cocks her hip to the side and looks you up and down, "And you are?"

You smile mirthlessly, "His girlfriend. You're standing in front of my seat."

"Really?" She asks, raising a brow, "You're his girlfriend?"

You're not an insecure person. Especially not with the way you know you look now, and you can see it in her eyes: she's intimidated.

Good. She should be.

"That's right. Now move along." You shoo her away with your hand.

She harrumphs at you and throws a 'whatever' over her shoulder. You make a sound of dismissal as she stalks off, you've half a mind to follow her to the table she came from and slam her head onto it a few times.

...

Where did that burst of violence come from? Gun must be rubbing off on you.

Speaking of Gun, you turn to him. He's leaned back in his chair and is all but smirking up at you, "Something bothering you, sweetheart?" He asks, examining you whilst you take your seat opposite him.

"Someone is bothering me." You manage, your expression must look similar to that of someone who has just sucked the juice out of a lemon. "What was that?"

"What was what exactly?" His head tilts slightly to the side with his question and he looks and sounds so stupid that you almost slap that stupid grin off his stupid face. Grinning like a moron like he hadn't given his phone number to that simpering whore. The nerve.

"Why were you talking to that... woman?" Bitch had been on the tip of your tongue but you caught yourself just in time.

With an air of nonchalance, he shrugs, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. He takes a sip before he speaks again, "She wanted my number."

"Right. So you just decided to indulge whatever fantasies she was concocting in her head for shits and giggles and give her your number just because she wanted it?"

Oh he liked this side of you. Seeing you sitting there all irritable and enraged, albeit quietly, as to not make a scene, made his blood pump hotter. Jealousy looked real good on you.

He supposes he should set the record straight, having you think he would ever give his personal number to some rouge-wearing tramp when he had you was laughable. Guess he'd have to get that through your skull later, one way or another.

"I gave her a phone number. Not mine."

"What?" You pause, the angry flush that had been festering dissipated quicker then it rose, "Who's?"

He shows you his phone instead of responding verbally, “Goo?” You say, confused.

“Didn’t really think I’d let any woman have my number did you?” He tucks his phone back into his suit pocket.

"You weren't exactly telling her to leave."

He looks at you, "I wasn't even listening to her."

"Well... I don't like it."

"Like what?"

He's gonna get a kick out of this one, you let a beat pass as you try to gather some words that won't make you sound like a jealous control freak that doesn't want her boyfriend to even acknowledge the existence of other women.

"Women talking to you."

That was absolutely not the correct choice of words. He snickers.

"Shut up. You know what I mean." You huff, cross at yourself.

"I do, but hearing you admit that you were jealous is music to my ears. Say it again."

Holding up your middle finger doesn't do much to deter him. "Say it, you were jealous."

You roll your eyes, "You really want to hear me say it?"

"Desperately." He admits, taking a sip of his drink. Nodding at you to begin your confession.

"Will it shut you up?"

"For all of thirty seconds, maybe."

You lean back and look to the side, "Fine. I was jealous. Hope you enjoyed that because I'm never saying it again."

"Once was more than enough."

"You still have twenty five seconds left."

© CERISAHH 2024 — all fics on this account belong to… ME! don’t steal my shit.

[loki-laufeyson223]

Friday Night: Dean Winchester (This Damaged Soul of Mine)

Warnings: Amazing Dean in the beginning, smut, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up kiddos), really sweet aftercare (cause that's a warning all in itself)

Word Count: round bout 3k

The Loki version of this story is here!

Friday Night: Loki Laufeyson

The first thing that greets me in the morning is my loud alarm ringing in my ear. I reach over and shut it off immediately, though I know I need to get up and get ready for work but God, I really don’t want to. It was 4:30 in the friggin morning. Usually I would turn to my husband, if we weren’t already in a tight embrace, but today he was in Claremore, Oklahoma dealing with a nasty wendigo. Dean had left sometime yesterday right after supper, which was pizza. I would normally go on those kinds of hunts with Dean but hunting doesn’t pay the bills. Getting up at the crack of dawn and leaving an hour later to go work at the children’s clinic here in Lebanon, however, does.

I reluctantly rolled out of bed and grabbed some clothes to put on after my shower. After I got out of the shower I shook my long blonde hair out with a towel and got dressed in black leggings and my favorite green and black flannel. I stalked my way to the kitchen in the bunker to fix some coffee, which I call liquid fuel, and fix some breakfast. I put on my favorite playlist of old rock, some of The Beatles, and maybe some Elvis. My brother-in-law, Sam, was still on his daily run but I knew he would be getting back soon. So, I went ahead and grabbed four eggs from the fridge and put some butter in the pan I already had heating up on the smallest eye on the stove. After the eggs were cooking on the stove the coffee machine went off and I grabbed my favorite Led Zeppelin mug and poured the hot black liquid into the cup and grabbed the vanilla creamer and poured just enough in for the smallest bit of flavor. Dean always said he hated creamer in his coffee but the day after I brought it home it was already open and used. He tried to blame it on Sam but we both knew that was a flat out lie.

“Hey De?”  “Yeah Sweetheart, what’s up?”  “Who got into my new creamer?”  “Uh….. I don’t know. Have you asked Sammy?”  “Yeah he said he hadn’t gotten any. He’s been drinkin’ Eileen’s.”  “What ‘bout Cas or Jack?”  “They can’t taste.”  “Oh well it wasn’t me if that’s what you’re thinkin’.”  “Yeeeaaahhh. Ok, sure hun.”  He got up from his spot at the bench and came over to me. “Don’t you need to leave for work?”  “Oh yeah. Crap.”  Leaning down so I can angle my head up to reach, he presses a soft and lingering kiss on my lips.  “Bye De.”  “See ya later Sweetheart.”  As soon as I walked out of the kitchen Sam came up to me. “I saw him pouring it into his coffee earlier.”

Smiling at the memory, I walk over to the oven and take the pan off of the stove and set it on a hot pad. I was grabbing a plate from the cabinet when Sam walked in still sweating a little from the long run back home. “Hey Scar.”  “Hey Sam. How was the run?”  “It was good until another runner came up beside me with their kid.”  “What’s so bad about that?”  “The kid grabbed the string connected to my headphones and pulled it out of my phone somehow.”  “Ah, I see. Everyone heard your Celine Dion.”  “Uh, no. I don’t listen to her.”  “Yeah, sure. Cut the crap we all know she’s your favorite.” He rolled his eyes at my comment.  “Anyways, I made eggs and coffee.”  “Great. Hey, by the way is Eileen up yet.”  “No but I heard her alarm go off when I got up.”  “Ok thanks.”  “No problem.”  He went over to the cabinet of coffee mugs and grabbed the one I got him for Christmas with a moose on it and it said “So get this”. “I thought you used that for target practice.”  “Eileen talked me into keeping it.”  “Well then thank you Eileen.”  “You’re welcome.”  Suddenly Eileen walked into the kitchen. Last Christmas Sam saved up enough money to get Eileen a cochlear implant, so she could hear and communicate with Dean and I since we didn’t know ASL. Sometimes I forgot she had it. Sam walked over to his wife and wrapped his arms around her shoulders then pulled away to press a kiss to her forehead. “Mornin’ Clover.”  “Hey Sam.”  I sat down with my plate and coffee and grabbed the pepper and sprinkled some onto the bland eggs.  “I still don’t know why you insist on using pepper on everything instead of salt.”  

Sam made a face as I added more pepper to my eggs and ate them with a smirk, just in spite. As soon as I finished eating I got up and put my plate in the sink, already in a rush to get to the bathroom and brush my teeth so I could hurry up and get out the door. Eileen noticed I hadn’t finished my coffee so she grabbed a to-go coffee cup and poured it in there while I was in the bathroom. “Alright, bye yall!”  I called from the garage door.

 I saw Eileen running towards me holding the cup, “Thought you might want to have the rest of this. Oh and Sam said bye.”  “Thanks Eileen.”  “No problem. Now get to work before you’re late.”  I gave her a nod and walked out the door. I grabbed the keys to my green and black Supercharged Kawasaki H2R and my Ghost Rider helmet and made my way to the motorcycle. I got on, putting the key in the ignition. I turned the key, hearing the engine roar to life. I balanced the bike and kicked up my stand, putting it in gear. I revved the engine and took off.

Eight hours later I pulled into the garage and into my spot. I put down my kickstand and took off my helmet before dismounting my bike. Today there were two kids I had to send to the emergency room because the parents underestimated just what was wrong with their kid. It sucked and was stressful. It didn’t help that the parents always blamed it on me as if I had been with them the whole day. 

As I’m grabbing my laptop case out of the side bag on the bike I hear what sounds like someone running. Before I could turn around to see who it was, the sound stopped. I knew that the bunker was warded so it couldn’t have been a spirit so I just continued to walk back towards the door. I heard running behind me and next thing I knew I was being tackled from the back. 

“Gottcha Baby!”  “Dean, what are you doing?”  I raised my eyebrows as his hand traveled down from my midsection to my hips. “No no no no no. Dean don’t you dare!”  He did the exact opposite and began tickling my sides. “Dean, no, s-stop! P-please.”  “What was that Hun? I didn’t quite hear you.”  He continued his attack on my sides and it lasted for what felt like forever. When he finally stopped, we were both out of breath from laughing so hard. 

Dean turned to me with a beaming smile that lit up his entire face, eyes shining from laughter and just pure happiness.  “Sorry babe, it seemed like you were having a bad day.”  “I was and I really needed that. Thank you.”  “No problem. Now, let’s get in the bunker. I got a surprise for you in the Dean Cave.”  “What kind of surprise?”  “You’ll see when we get there.”  I rolled my eyes but at that moment, Dean lifted me off the ground and pulled me into a bridal style carry. I yelped at the sudden surprise and he took off towards the Dean Cave. 

When we got there the first thing that caught my attention was the speaker that we use for parties, was set out. The next thing was the palate set out on the floor and the sushi that was beside it. “Dean, what is this?”  “Since it’s Friday and you had a long day, I decided to give you a little treat.”  “That’s so sweet but, what’s the speaker for?”  “I figured we could listen to music while we hung out or we could watch a movie. So, which do you want to do?”  “How do you feel about music?”  “That’s just fine for me.”  I walk over to the speaker with my phone in hand and turn on my bluetooth, connecting my phone to play music. The first song I play is When the Levee Breaks and Dean gives me a look of approval and we go to sit down on the palate constructed of just about every bed-set here in the bunker. 

Dean hands me one of the trays of sushi before grabbing his own. “So, what exactly happened today that made it so bad?” I sighed, thinking about the very colorful threats that were thrown at me once I told the parents what actions they needed to take to ensure their child’s health. I was only doing my job. “I had to send two kids to the emergency room today and the parents weren’t happy about it to say the least.”  “Oh, Hun, I'm sorry.”  “It ain’t your fault. I get it though.” Dean’s brow furrowed. “I mean if it was my kid I would be upset too. I probably wouldn’t yell at the doctor but, still.”  “You probably handled it a lot better than I would’ve.” I laughed and shook my head, shrugging my shoulders in agreement. 

The song ends as I’m taking my first bite of the bubba roll Dean got from the small Japanese place just a few minutes from the bunker. I pick up my phone and play my mixed playlist on Spotify. I know Dean would usually act like he hated pop in front of Sam or anyone else but with me, he’ll sing his heart out and dance like there’s no one around. I go to the song that’s absolutely necessary at this moment, Uptown Funk. It always manages to pick up my mood when I’m down at a low, along with the company of Dean, of course. I sat down my food and stood up, grabbing Dean’s hand in the process.  “Scar, really? Right now?”  “Yes right now. Get up!”  “Sweetheart, Sam’s home.”  “I know. If he walks in, both of you can get over it.”  “That’s something for him to tell people though Hun.”  “Yeah and I have plenty on him and so do you.”  He rolled his eyes and smiled. Dean finally got up and lifted me up off the ground, spinning me around as he did. We danced like we were teenagers at their first prom, in the best way possible. 

The song finished and when the next one came on, Dean’s face lit up. He immediately dove into the first verse of Can’t Help Falling in Love. My husband pulled me into his arms and began to sway gently side to side while moving around the room.

Wise men say

Only fools, only fools rush in

Oh, but I, but I, I can’t help falling in love with you

Shall I stay?

Would it be, would it be a sin?

If I can’t help falling in love with you

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Some things, you know, are just meant to be 

Take my hand

Take my whole life too

For I can’t help falling in love with you

For I can’t help falling in love with you

He finishes the song and dance with an enchanting kiss. Enveloping my lips with his, he grabs the sides of my face pulling me deeper into the kiss. I reach around and intertwine my hands in his dark brown locks. Here recently he’s been growing out his hair and it’s made it down to right below his neck, his bangs just barely reaching beneath his eyebrows. His hair has grown out to be a dark brown in his older age. Small flecks of gray sprinkled throughout. The cool feeling of the soft strands only heighten the small pool in my stomach. 

That is until Dean pulls away. When I whine softly in protest, Dean puts a finger to my lips and trails his finger down to my chin and tilts my head up so I’m looking straight into the green oceans that he calls normal eyes. Nothing that breathtaking can be “normal”. “Scarlett, no matter what anyone says, you’re an incredible doctor. I mean you worked your ass off for those degrees. You shouldn’t let anyone tell you otherwise. I mean if you were my kid’s doctor and you found out something that was really wrong with them, I would have given over my paycheck that week. And before you say anything, no I’m not just saying this to make you feel better. I’m telling you the truth, ‘cause that’s just what we all need to hear sometimes.”

I smiled and blinked away the tears that had formed in my eyes. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled those soft, pillowy lips down to mine. Dean groaned and slipped his tongue into my mouth. The kiss formed a beautiful symphony between us and we played the song that we knew by our hearts. 

Dean pulled away just enough to grumble “Bedroom” and oh did I comply. I nodded and he grabbed the underside of my thighs and hoisted me up so I could wrap my legs around his hips. Our lips never parted as he walked us to the bedroom we share amongst all the others in the bunker, we chose this one with the feeling and anticipation to make memories that would last a lifetime.  

Somehow, Dean managed to get the door open, us in, closing and locking the door behind us, still without breaking the feverish kiss. He laid me down on the bed with such ease it made me feel like I weighed nothing but a feather. Dean got up from the bed to rid himself of everything he was wearing and got back on top of me to “assist” me in the same way. 

When I was completely bare before him, Dean just stared with lust and awe in his eyes. “So beautiful.”  He murmured sweet little nothings as he kissed his way from my neck to my bare heat. He pressed a kiss to my clit and went down further to lick a hot, wet stripe all the way back up. My thighs instinctively went close around his head and he placed a firm hand against one and pushed just slightly. “Gotta have my meal spread out for me Baby.”  A cocky grin spread across his lips as he dipped his head back down to my dripping pussy and buried his tongue as far as he could, and oh was it far, into my inner walls. 

My hands found their way to his hair and pulled tight at the brown, peppered lock causing the god of a man to groan, the vibration sending a shiver to my core and up my spine. “Oh God, Dean!”  

Dean took his free hand and brought it up to my clit, making small tantalizing circles and applying just the right amount of pressure to the small pearl, to send me to oblivion with release. A guttural groan pulled itself from the depths of my throat with my finish and Dean brought himself up to my lips and claimed my lips with his in a lust filled kiss that left us both completely breathless.

“Dean, I need you now.”  The plea came out more broken than I intended but it still got the message across because Dean was ready in an instant, already leaning back on his heels and lining himself up with my entrance. He looked to me with a silent ask for permission, I nodded and with that my breath had completely left my body as he buried himself to the hilt with the first thrust. 

Dean was holding himself up with his forearms and was hovering just above my face, he leaned down to my ear, just a little lower beneath the sensitive lobe and sucked a dark bruise on the spot that he knew drove me wild everytime. “Dean, please, move.”  He nodded slightly and pulled out to the tip and thrusted back in again with more force behind it with a deep groan. 

Our bodies moved in unison, like two puzzle pieces finding their way with each other with ease until Dean shivered and I felt his length twitch inside my hot core and with one final thrust, the one I love most in this world found his release, painting my insides white. My release was triggered by his own, my eyes rolling to the back of my head. When we had both caught our breath and calmed down mostly, Dean got up to go get a towel to clean us both up. 

With the towel thrown aside and us both content in the bed, I grabbed my husband’s waist in a tight hug. “Hey Baby.” He whispered into my hair, pressing a lingering kiss to my head before propping his chin up there. I just yawned in response and heard Dean chuckling softly, his shoulders moving slightly with the action. “You tired?”  “Mhm.”  Dean kissed the top of my head again and I closed my eyes and welcomed the sleep that followed shortly after. The last thing I heard before sleep claimed me completely was my husband’s deep voice slightly mumble, “G’night Sweetheart. I love you with all of this damaged soul of mine.”

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[elryuse]

Yandere Gahyeon, first she would be really shy and introvert but when you showed her a little attention, she would fall deeper and deeper into madness to be yours?

MAKE U MINE

YANDERE GAHYEON X MALE READER

The sizzling meat blurred in Gahyeon's vision, tears threatening to spill as another group of fans swarmed SuA and Dami for a picture. The restaurant echoed with laughter, a vibrant contrast to the quiet terror gnawing at her.

"Gahyeon-ah," Yoohyeon teased, her voice playful. "Still the invisible woman, huh?"

Gahyeon forced a smile, the sting of rejection a familiar ache. Unlike her outgoing members, Gahyeon craved a genuine connection, not the fleeting adulation of fans. But with her shy nature, that connection always felt just out of reach.

Suddenly, a voice pierced the cheerful chaos. A man, seemingly lost amidst the crowd, hesitantly approached their table. His eyes, a gentle brown, held a genuineness that sent a jolt through Gahyeon. A smile played on his lips, breaking the tension that had gripped her.

"Excuse me," he began, his voice soft but polite. "Is this Dreamcatcher?"

The other members erupted in surprised greetings, but Gahyeon found herself speechless, mesmerized by the warmth radiating from him.

"I'm a huge fan," he continued, his gaze lingering on her for a beat too long. "Especially you. Would it be too much to ask for a picture… together?"

Gahyeon's world tilted on its axis. Here, amidst the usual frenzy of fan requests, was someone singling her out. A blush flooded her cheeks, her voice barely a whisper as she stammered out a yes.

The moment the picture was taken, the other members started buzzing with excitement.

"Wow, Gahyeon-unnie, you and him look good together!" Dami squealed, her eyes wide with mischief.

Heat flooded Gahyeon's face, her usual shyness momentarily forgotten. Y/n, the stranger's name, chuckled sheepishly. The interaction was brief, but the memory of his kindness lingered with Gahyeon long after his departure.

Back in their dorm, Gahyeon couldn't shake the feeling of connection. She impulsively typed Y/n's number into her phone, her fingers trembling with a mix of excitement and fear. A text message left unsent hung in the chat box. Finally, with a deep breath, she hit send.

"Hi, this is Gahyeon from Dreamcatcher. Thank you for asking for a picture back at the restaurant. It meant a lot."

The reply came almost instantly. "No problem, Gahyeon. It was amazing meeting you. You're even more beautiful in person."

A giddy feeling bubbled inside Gahyeon. Over the next few days, a whirlwind of messages blossomed into late-night conversations. Y/n listened to her anxieties about idol life, offering words of comfort that soothed her loneliness. Gahyeon, in turn, discovered a kind, caring man who saw beyond the K-pop persona.

But this newfound happiness twisted within Gahyeon. The once shy girl became possessive and obsessive. Every ping of her phone, every conversation not about him, sparked a growing fear of losing this connection. Her texts became constant, demanding, her calls more frequent.

Y/n, initially understanding of her shyness, grew wary of the increasingly clingy behavior. He tried to gently set boundaries, but Gahyeon interpreted his attempts as rejection. Fear turned to rage, and Gahyeon began a terrifying descent into madness.

Driven by an unhealthy possessiveness, Gahyeon started digging into Y/n's life. Social media, public records, anything to feel closer to him. One day, she found a picture of him with another woman, a friend according to the caption. But to Gahyeon, it was a betrayal, a threat to her fragile hold on happiness.

Fury and obsession warred within her. She sent a barrage of messages, accusing him of infidelity. Y/n, overwhelmed by the sudden accusations, tried to reason with her, but Gahyeon was beyond reason.

Days turned into a horrifying silence. Y/n, fearing for his safety, stopped responding. But Gahyeon wouldn't let go. She started appearing outside his workplace, leaving cryptic messages soaked in red paint on his doorstep. Her sweet persona had been devoured by a terrifying intensity.

One night, Y/n received a call. A distorted voice, devoid of its former sweetness, rasped through the phone. "You'll never escape me," it whispered. "You'll see how much I truly love you."

Y/n hung up, his hand trembling. Gahyeon wasn't the shy girl he'd fallen for. She was a monster, and her twisted love was a cage from which there seemed to be no escape.

The paranoia gnawed at Y/n like a ravenous rat. Sleep was a luxury he no longer afforded, every rustle of leaves outside his new apartment window sending jolts of terror through him. He jumped at every chirp of a bird, every ring of his (now disconnected) phone.

One day, while venturing out for groceries, disguised in a cap and sunglasses, his world tilted on its axis. There, across the street, was Gahyeon. Her eyes, once filled with warmth, were now hollow pits of obsessive devotion.

She didn't approach him then, but the encounter shattered any remaining hope. Y/n knew then that changing his life wasn't enough. He needed to disappear, vanish into thin air, a ghost with no past and an uncertain future.

The sacrifice was immense. His career, his dreams – all abandoned at the altar of fear. Yet, survival was the only instinct left. He reached out to a private investigator, a man who specialized in vanishing acts. The cost was exorbitant, but Y/n was willing to give up everything just to breathe freely again.

The investigator, a gruff man named Han, laid out the harsh realities. A new identity, a new life in a remote village, and complete radio silence were the only guarantees. Y/n agreed without hesitation.

The process was agonizingly slow. Weeks turned into months as Han meticulously crafted a new life for Y/n. A new name, a fabricated backstory, and a one-way ticket to a secluded village nestled in the mountains – a place untouched by the frenzy of the idol world.

The day of departure arrived, shrouded in a suffocating veil of sadness. Leaving his life behind felt like dying, but the thought of facing Gahyeon's twisted affection was far more terrifying.

As the plane soared higher and higher, Y/n stole a glance at his new identity. Minjun. A simple name for a simple life. Yet, a flicker of doubt remained. Could he truly escape the clutches of a stalker driven by a warped sense of love?

The answer arrived a month later, shattering the fragile peace Y/n had built. A package arrived, addressed to Minjun, containing a single item – a Dreamcatcher photocard, Gahyeon's face defaced with a disturbing crimson smile.

The message was clear: no matter where he ran, her twisted love would follow. Fear, cold and suffocating, wrapped itself around Y/n once more. He may have escaped Seoul, but escaping Gahyeon's warped affection seemed like an impossible dream.