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mv1simp · 2 months

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Into It ♥️ Part 1 of 3

Max Verstappen x Girlfriend!Reader

i'm into it, yeah, says she wanna fuck me later, girl i'm into it

the one in which you’re newly dating your gorgeous boyfriend, max verstappen, after months of pining and flirting. he’s the perfect gentleman, so romantic and treats you just right! now how do you tell him that you’re desperate for mad max to come out and rail ur insides without sounding like a freak 😚

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut but this time with some plot lol, reader essentially is just trying whatever tactic she can to seduce her bf and make mad max come out in bed, size kink, dom/sub elements, 4k WC

PART TWO HERE ♥️ PART THREE HERE ♥️

You look up blissfully at your boyfriend, Max, from where you’re tucked into his side, his strong arm scooping you against him and keeping you warm. You’re rewatching an old classic, Shrek 2, as you wind down from your dinner plans with your friends earlier than evening. Lando and Daniel had joined as well, teasing you and Max mercilessly about how you two were finally together and that the whole F1 grid had been placing bets on when you would make it official.

You had flushed in a combination of embarrassment and giddiness, unable to hold back a matching laugh with Max who had looked over at you with an adoring gaze, his own heart warm with happiness about finally being able to call you his own. You two had run in the same Monaco circles for years - with him as a driver and you on the McLaren legal team. Though initially you only saw glimpses of him through paddock interviews or social media posts celebrating his multiple winning streaks, the two of you had become a lot closer the past couple years through his friendship with Daniel and Lando. Soon enough you were joining them at weekly Padel sessions, leading to you and Max exchanging funny cat memes or popping online to decimate him and Lando on a Call of Duty stream and then eventually onto deeper conversations, from his latest breakups with his model girlfriends or quiet ramblings with a bottle of wine outside a booming party about the pressures of demanding fathers.

Of course, tongues were wagging anytime you two were seen together - especially when Max had his first time in years being single for months before you had gotten together. You couldn’t deny that you had always thought the older Dutch man was incredibly handsome and funny, always full of interesting facts about niche topics, and you found his intensity and passion for his racing career so attractive, as a high powered professional yourself as a lawyer for a luxury car brand’s executive board. But you had always curbed any growing feelings you had for Max, paranoid that it would compromise the strong friendship you two had developed. Besides, given his affliction for dating vogue models, and his respectful gazes or polite touches compared to the much more flirtier ones from other drivers on the grid, you had never thought max considered you attractive.

But somehow, despite both your busy schedules, despite max being across the globe, you always ended up calling each other first to share sad, happy, or even just boring news. You had never once imagined that after winning his most recent championship the first person he came looking for in his celebrations that night was you, his face flushes from champagne and hugging you tightly, his eyes shining with warmth as he told you he couldn’t have won it without you and suddenly you could no longer deny the rapid palpitations of your heart when you looked up at him. And as he looked at you, thumb gently brushing across your cheeks, warm breaths mingling together as your faces drew closer, he couldn’t deny himself any longer either - Schat, all I’ve been thinking about is what I really wanted for my prize instead of this trophy. Can I kiss you now?

And the rest was history. Fast forward a few months and it’s still so surreal to call Max your boyfriend, you think, as you come back to the present, watching him fondly as he chuckles at the movie. Dating him has been a dream - he’s your first serious relationship, your standards too high to waste time with any of the subpar guys you had gone on first dates with before - and wow, did Max know exactly how to knock all of those standards out of the park. He would always drive and pick you up anywhere you wanted, in his sleek luxury cars that had pedestrians gawping, one large hand on your thigh and asking how your day had been. You had literally stopped taking your wallet out anymore as Max always slammed down his black Amex at any opportunity to pay for you - dinners, trips, jewellery and luxurious shopping sprees - and although the staunch feminist in you had initially disagreed you couldn’t help but feel so cared for, so looked after - knowing all you needed on a night out was one hand around his arm and the other clutching a pretty little Chanel purse he had picked up for you at last month’s race weekend, with a matching Dior lip gloss inside. If you were ever having a hard day at work he would always order your favourite foods straight to your apartment, where he would meet you and bitch and vent alongside you about whichever client had been giving you grief.

And my god, the sex - THE SEX with your man had been absolutely amazing. Considering the difference in your past number of relationships, max was keenly aware that he had a lot more experience than you and was so unbelievably sweet and patient - letting you take all the time you needed to go slow and work up the confidence gradually to ask for what you wanted for him. Your first time together had been incredibly romantic, a night at a private house he had booked out for the week on the Italian coastline. After a candlelit dinner and a bottle of wine you found yourself in his lap on the outdoor chaise, soft kisses turning more and more heated, max whispering are you sure, liefje? If you’re not ready-

to which you had cut him off with another deep kiss, pleading for him to make you his once and for all ❤️ His eyes had flickered with a deep intensity at your possessive statement before softening out to adoration again as he gently unlaced your dress and trailed kisses down your body, worshipping you. you’d both cum embarrassingly faster than you’d have liked, high off the feeling of one another, max cleanly finishing inside a condom he threw away before carrying you in his arms to the bedroom inside. Since then, you’d both figured out you had a combined very high sex drive, using every opportunity in your schedules to make love, max never hesitating to always make sure you came first, either on his fingers, tongue or cock. You had the perfect boyfriend. Truly. You couldn’t ask for anything more, yet -

- yet, here you were, feeling like an absolute bitch about the recurrent thoughts that had planted in your mind as you watched max come out of the bathroom freshly showered, getting ready for bed after finishing a gaming stream with his mates following your Shrek 2 viewing. The issue was that your boyfriend - your incredibly hot, sexy, tall Dutch boyfriend - was so stupidly enticing but so oblivious that he has no idea what he did to you. You bit your lip as you looked at him, hair dripping wet, distractingly saying something to you while texting on his phone - but your mind was only fixed on how big and strong Max looked. Your boyfriend was much bigger than you, almost towering over you at 6”1 with your 5”1 frame. His athletic training currently during the season meant he had been looking extra delectable lately, defined abs, thick muscular thighs and a broad shoulder and back that narrowed down to a narrow (or as Lando joked, slutty) waist, highlighted now by the grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips that did nothing to hide the sizeable bulge in between his legs. It was undeniable that he was packing, to the point where you had called it his third leg after first seeing him naked, making him laugh but also take even more care everytime he entered you - you were a lot smaller than his previous partners, after all. He always made sure his pace was gentle and slow, avoiding fully entering you too much in worry of causing you pain. Truly, your boyfriend was too sweet - everything he did was to avoid causing your any pain or distress - which is why you felt too embarrassed to ask him directly to be rougher with you when he was simply looking out for your comfort. It has been perfect for you initially, but now you felt more adjusted to his size, and each time you slept together you felt yourself becoming more and more desperate for Max to be just a little bit rougher, a little bit more controlling. What would he think when his usually sweet, happy go lucky girlfriend admitted she actually fantasised about him completely ruining her? So, of course, you being you - an ambitious feminist - have decided to hatch a conniving strategy to seduce your boyfriend into giving it to you just right!! 💕

Starting tonight - you had already planned to spend the night at Max’s, relaxing after the hectic work week you had both had. Often, you wore his comfortable hoodies that dwarfed you and smelt just like him as you cuddled in bed. Instead tonight you wore an angelic pink lace Agent Provocateur nightie, bows and all, pushing your cute tits up on display for him and complimenting your caramel skin perfectly. Enough to drive Max crazy, right? Sitting against the plush pillows, you had been reading one of your steamy dark romance novels - your latest outlet these days while you manifested getting some back breaking sex with Max - but of course had ended up distracted by the sight of your himbo boyfriend emerging from the shower.

-Schat? So what do you think? Max finally looked up from his phone, making you come back to reality and realize you hadn’t been answering his question. Max’s eyes widened seeing your pretty little form on his bed - he had never seen you wear an outfit like that in bed before. He cleared his throat, inconspicuously shifting his stance so you didn’t notice his hard on at the sight of you when you hastily stumbled to reply - Oh sorry maxie, I missed what you were saying, just a bit tired after today

Max immediately came to your side in bed, looking guilty. Of course Schat, sorry, I’m keeping you up with my gaming stream aren’t I? You had such a long week already, we can go straight to bed now. You cursed your own slip up - of course, your sweet Max would put your comfort first over what you were sure looked like mission successful given the rapid hardening of his bulge you had zoned in on.

You try again as Max dims the bedside lamps, taking your book gently away from your hands and setting it to the side. You lean softly in next to him, fluttering your eyelashes up at him, tits right up against his hard biceps so that your breasts are basically cushioning his arm right in between them. Your nightie rises up your legs, showcasing your soft, luscious thighs for him. Max smiles lovingly at you, cradling your face before peppering your cheeks with baby kisses. You look so pretty, sweetheart. So sweet to wait for me before falling asleep, mein Schat.

You lean in further, lips pouting in an effort your boyfriend would finally catch the hint but instead you found yourself gently maneouvered and tucked into his side, his large hands rubbing soothing circles along your back as he placed a final kiss on your forehead. Goodnight, darling. Your eye twitched at his definitive words, perplexed at how your plan had been so unsuccessful, but you sighed and wished goodnight to Max, falling asleep and already plotting for another day.

A couple of weeks later you decided to up the ante. A sexy, bold crimson red lingerie teddy set, practically see through and showcasing your tan nipples through the lace and mesh, and a pathetic excuse of some lacy red panties to match. You smirked as you eyed yourself in the mirror - sure, it was quite a forward look, but you had found yourself becoming increasingly more desperate for your boyfriend’s attentions after attending his Monaco race today. You did your best to attend the races you could but with your own demanding schedule often struggled to make it, so were very excited to support your boyfriend this time - especially as you had been keeping track of how this season was difficult compared to earlier years given the poorer quality of the RB car. Your eyes had widened at seeing the events this weekend - a string of bad luck events. First, his engine had stalled during free practise, making him lose precious practise time, and then a red flag had been called as he was finishing an almost perfect qualifying lap, ruining his chances of pole, and finally during the actual race he was clipped on the side by one of the Aston Martin’s, making him spin out but still incredibly go on to get P2. It was amazing result given everything, but what caught your attention was a side of your boyfriend you had only every heard whispers about emerge on the track. In the past, you had only attended races he had easily won, appearing calm and collected throughout the weekends as he cruised to P1 - easily overpowering everyone else. Today though - Mad Max, his fans excitedly cheered and paddock staff gossiped, Mad Max is finally back!! In his villain era!!

And your Max was indeed seething at everyone - competitors, his strategy team, the stewards for not giving Aston Martin a penalty - and you had listened in on the radio to hear him angrily swear and yell to his engineer, seen him aggressively overtake and defend his place on the track, and finally seen the stormy expression on his face as he emerged out of his car, clearly pissed with narrowed eyes as he stalked off to his driver room without a word, not even sparing a glance at you or anyone else. Sure, you should have felt a little hurt that he hadn’t noticed you or seen the perfectly planned designer outfit you had arrived wearing, sending the paparazzi into a flurry, but you completely understood that his career was first on the line today and he needed some time to cool off. And honestly, instead of feeling bad for Max - the sick, twisted part of you couldn’t deny that he had looked sooo sexy completely dominating on the track, authoritatively giving orders over the radio and confidently outmanoeuvring his rivals. You had to catch yourself from biting your lip or squeezing your legs together as his rough accented tones got more and more angry throughout the race over your headphones, imaging what it would be like to be pinned down by his strong arms, to have him lean down behind you and whisper naughty things in your ear, to ask if you liked being a dirty little-

“Oh! Y/N! Can we get a quick word?” The sky sports reporters interruption hastily put an end to the illicit thoughts you had been having. Quickly trying to school your expression into something much more PR friendly, you flashed a dazzling smile, “Of course!”. As expected they tried to rile responses out of you to condemn Max’s aggressive performance. But you had stood for none of it, honestly and clearly stating that your boyfriend had driven very capably and fairly given the circumstances and you were extremely impressed with his performance. “He’s a triple world champion after all. Did you just expect him to roll over and not defend his title? If you don’t agree with it then no need to watch it. At the end of the day he’s the one driving the car over the finish line while everyone else is speculating hypotheticals.” The reporters thank you for your input, stumbling for words at your strong defence of your boyfriend. You wandered off before they could say more, catching up with Max a couple hours later when he had debriefed and collected his trophy, looking a lot more chilled out than earlier.

Hey, Schatje he mumbled gently, leaning down to kiss you on the lips after pulling you from a conversation with the other WAGs. Max! you had exclaimed brightly, congratulating him on his win and letting him know just how proud you were of him. You knew he would be tired - we could go to the red bull celebration yacht party for 30min, show our faces, and then play hooky back to ours? I already put in a dinner order for your favourite lamb kebabs.

Max smiled down at you - you knew him so well, always knew what to say and when he wanted to relax. Sounds amazing, Schat he voiced in agreement. Later, after eating dinner at home, Lando sent him a trending insta reel with the caption “Mate, she’s too good to you, you bagged a queen.” Max grinned, expecting some fanmade memes about you and him as he clicked the link (he has seen all the Queen Y/N and he’s just…Ken Max tweets already. You were a well liked figure on the paddock for years with your well mannered speech, excellent dress style and courteous relationships with most of the staff.)

He was suprised to instead see an interview post race of you defending him staunchly, shutting down any opportunity the reporters used to manipulate your words. He walked into his bedroom to find you conveniently waiting for him in bed again, nose buried in one of your romance models, and started laughing at how effective you were at putting the media clowns in their place. Thanks for sticking up for me always, liefje. You smiled back at him with pure adoration - of course Maxie, that’s the advantage of dating a lawyer, right?

He agreed enthusiastically, so caught up on now yapping about the race as he climbed into bed with you that he didn’t even notice the sexy little outfit you had planned just for him, covering you up with his soft duvet before you could properly twirl around and showcase it for him. Your eye twitched again as he yawned in between statements, grabbing your waist and bringing your back in against him, spooning you while his voice gently trailed off, falling asleep.

Meanwhile, your mind was running at 100 miles a minute, a scowl on your face. This was ridiculous, you had gotten all dressed up in an overpriced beautiful outfit just for your boyfriend to get distracted by a 3min interview you had done with an asshole reporter and then fall asleep instead of ravaging you?? You had tonight would be the perfect night, for you to be the one to support him for once, be the perfect outlet for his stress, to use you and manipulate your body for his own pleasure…heat pooled in your gut at your dark thoughts, and you grow wetter between your legs at the mental image of max having his way with you. Maybe it still wasn’t too late. Sighing gently, you closed your eyes, pretending to drift into sleep but moving your plump, barely covered ass behind you to gently grind up on your boyfriend’s cock, which was now rapidly hardening with your practised movements. You sensed Max had awakened when you felt his arms tighten around you, keeping you still in an effort to stop you from exciting him to much while you were still asleep and he couldn’t act on it.

Mmmhmm, maxie, feels so good~ you moaned, still keeping up the facade of having a wet dream, breathing getting heavier and pushing your tits against the edges of his fingers that were wrapped around your waist. You felt him exhale sharply as he came into contact with your hardened nipples, a smirk on your face. Your grinding had managed to push the duvet partially off, exposing your red lingerie in the moonlight - surely this would be enough to drive any man crazy!!

You heard him sigh behind you, shifting slightly and inadvertently pushing his cock against your skimpy underwear as he pressed a kiss to the back of your neck - and you had to hold back a squeal with how hard and big he felt against you, this was it, he was finally going to give in and fuck you awake while he thought you were having a wet dream, he could slide it right in, you were ready for it, for him, you were soo wet already just from imagining it, this was so hot-

Your fantasies are quickly shut down as max easily used his strength to turn you around so your face was buried into his chest again, your ass now devastatingly much too far away to get any action, and began rubbing your shoulders soothingly to get you to fall into a deep sleep again. You almost combusted at the action before deflating and accepting defeat once more. Your kind boyfriend of course would never toe the line of having sex with you in a dubious way were you were asleep. You wanted - no needed, to bring Mad Max out in your bedroom, and you were determined to do whatever it took.

Over the next few weeks you threw countless strategies Max’s way. Leaving your dirty romance books out in plain view, sometimes even opened up to a page right in the middle of a jaw dropping sex scene. Lacier and lacier bralettes and panties left everywhere to prompt him. “Accidentally” deleting his best SIM race time record on his rig. But nothing seemed to be working - max diligently tidyed up the stray underwear, reshelved the books, and generously forgave you for the SIM error before setting a new record later that night instead of fucking you angrily like you had planned. You got more frustrated as both your work schedules became busier, leaving you less time to connect with him. Fuck, last weekend - last weekend you had even thrown out all your boxes of condoms before jumping into Max’s arms when he had come home, laughing and eager to see you. One thing let to another and he was as eager to be inside you as you were to have him inside you, voicing It’s been too long Schat, I’ve missed your sweet body so much, so beautiful for me in between kisses as he reached for the bedstand drawer to grab a condom - only to find it empty. You pretended to have a confused look on your face (truly, you deserved an Oscar for your performance this past month) before oh so innocently suggesting Maxie, we- we don’t have to use one if you don’t want, I’m on the pill -

And there it was - a brief darkening of your boyfriends’ normally loving ice blue eyes, his sharp gaze on you at your suggestion of doing it raw for the first time - before he schooled his features back to normal and gave you a sweet kiss, It’s okay Schat, you’re too sweet, you don’t deserve to feel uncomfortable for my sake, I’ll just grab some from the corner store, da? He was off you before you could protest, promising he would be back soon as you blinked away tears of frustration and denial that yet again your plan had failed. When he finally entered you later that night, ever so gently, condom and all, you closed your eyes tight and imagined how each vein and ridge of his thick cock might feel when fully buried inside you to the hilt, if that goddamn condom broke, if he spilled all of his thick, creamy cum inside you, so much that it spurted out the sides, leaking everywhere, claiming you as his and no one else’s, making such a filthy, filthy mess-

- you came harder than you had the whole month, burying your face in Max’s shoulder to contain the scream that threatened to spill out. You sighed as you came down from your high. Fuck, you needed a drink.

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A/N: Follow along for Part 2 of this 3 part series to see if dear reader will finally manage to uncockblock herself and release Mad Max!! 😚😚

#max verstappen x oc #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 smut #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen smut #max verstappen #formula 1 #smut

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dilemmaontwolegs · 7 months

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Boy Toys || CarLando

Summary: You invite your boyfriend’s ex-teammate to bed and he is more than willing to be your toy for the night. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, mmf threesome, mxm anal WC: 2.7k

“He wants you, amor,” Carlos teased the shell of your ear. Your boyfriend stood behind you, his hands on your waist and his body flush against yours. “He can’t stop looking at you.”

You looked at Carlos’ ex-teammate and found his blue eyes already watching you from across the bar and heat coursed your veins at the way he held his bottom lip pinched between his teeth. The younger driver had grown more handsome over the years since Carlos left McLaren but he clearly still had it bad for you, and Carlos was enjoying every second of it as his hands trailed up your body before curving over your ribs. Lando’s eyes dropped to the possessive touch that cradled the underside of your breasts and drew his attention to your nipples that were beginning to peak against the thin satin dress you wore.

“Stop bruising the poor guy’s ego,” you chuckled as you pushed his hands back down to your hips. You turned and draped your arms around Carlos’ neck, smiling sweetly as you tipped your head back to meet his eyes. “Or I might just have to go and kiss it better.”

Carlos’ hands spread over your ass and pulled you against him, his growing semi digging into your abdomen. A smirk played on his full lips and dirty thoughts danced across his face that you had always found easy to read. “Hmm, would you really?”

You rose onto your tip toes and nipped at his bottom lip before trailing kisses along his jawline. “Absolutely, I would even let you watch.”

Your ass burned with a sharp smack and he inhaled your moan as he kissed you with a harsh crash of his lips. “Go on then, amor, put him out of his misery.”

You grinned at the permission and slipped out of his hold to cross the room. The duo had been friends long before you started your relationship with Carlos and there had always been an undercurrent of sexual tension when the three of you were in a room together. You hadn’t been able to resist asking Carlos about it one night when your bodies were entangled. He admitted he felt it too but assured you nothing had happened, much to your disappointment. Things started to change after that night and Carlos grew bolder around Lando, playing on his desire and yours.

“You’re looking lonely,” you greeted Lando, draping your arms around his neck in an overly friendly hug. “Dance with me.”

He looked at Carlos, catching the smirk and the nod the Spaniard gave before turning to another friend who had called his name. Letting you drag him to the middle of the crowd where the room felt claustrophobic, Lando easily slipped into the space you made, his arms curving around your waist as the beat of the song echoed in his chest.

You tipped your head back on his shoulder as you swayed your hips to the music, enjoying the feel of his breath on your neck as he grew the courage to brush his lips over your racing pulse. The sweet perfume on your neck seemed more intoxicating than the drinks he had and he brushed his nose along your neck as he inhaled more.

“Make me sweat, make me hotter, make me lose my breath, make me water,” you sang along suggestively to the song and grinned when he groaned quietly.

“I wish…”

You turned in his arms and bit your lip as your hands roamed his body, slipping beneath the cotton shirt and over his abs. “What exactly would you wish for?”

“What?”

“If you had one wish, what would it be?”

Lando dared to dream as his hands slipped down your body to rest on your ass, growing bolder when you made no attempt to stop him. His lips brushed your skin as he dipped his head down to yours, resting cheek to cheek and whispering all the filthy thoughts he had imagined with you. Each one sent heat flaming across your body and your deep breath swelled in your chest, causing your breasts to brush against him. The satin teased your already stiff nipples and a soft moan tumbled out to caress his ear.

“We should get out of here,” you suggested as your heart began to beat between your legs, your core throbbing with need.

“We?” Lando asked, pulling back to catch sight of Carlos casually waiting by the bar still.

“He likes to watch…unless you want him to join.” You watched him swallow deeply, that damn kissable lip catching between his teeth again before he nodded.

“He likes to watch?”

You grazed your nails over his abs and felt them tense at the touch. “He likes to watch me play with my toys. Will you be my toy tonight?”

His hand was already grabbing yours with the need for a quick exit. “Fuck yes.”

You let him lead the way, nodding your head to Carlos and pointing to the corridor that led out of the bar. His swagger was confident as he placed his glass on the bar top and made his way out too.

“Where are we off to in such a hurry?” Carlos asked as he intercepted you by the door, casually leaning across the opening to block Lando. It left their bodies close and dark eyes drank in the younger driver whose hand still gripped yours. Lando froze, his eyes darting between you and Carlos with worry before a grin split your boyfriend’s face. “Relax, cabrón, I mean your hotel or mine.”

“Fuck, man, you gave me a heart attack.” Lando exhaled in relief before getting a little nervous, dropping your hand to scratch the back of his neck. “Uh, I don’t mind.”

“Ours,” you decided. “My toys are in the suitcase.”

Carlos’ eyes lit up at the thought. “You brought them through airport security, amor?”

You winked and ducked under his arm to start making an exit. “It was a private jet. I figured no one would check. Now are we going to have some fun or just me?”

The two drivers looked at each other and smirked.

The hotel door slammed shut and Carlos winced in apology but he was a little too eager to finish what started in the elevator. You could still feel Lando’s kiss on your lips and see Carlos’ eyes darkening with lust. You wanted more.

Lando crashed into you, his hands grabbing your waist to steady your steps as he guided you back to the bed. “You have no idea how long I have wanted this,” he confessed as those strong hands moved to caress your ass.

A deep groan filled the air and it didn’t come from the man in front of you. “Oh, I know,” Carlos said as he pressed himself to your back and kissed your neck. “I’ve seen the way you watch her, cabròn.”

“The same way you look at each other,” you added, feeling them both stiffen against you. Neither pulled away, Lando’s hands still resting on your ass where Carlos’s front was pressed against them. “I think it’s hot as fuck.”

Lando was no longer looking at you but over your shoulder. “I thought you were just watching…”

Carlos’ heartbeat thrummed rapidly against your back. “If that’s what you want.”

The silent question hung in the air and you held your breath waiting for it to settle. There was no expectation from Carlos because he was absolutely happy to just watch, you could feel it from the large bulge digging into your ass, but you had seen the longing to join as well.

Lando’s hand moved and you feared he was pulling away until Carlos moaned. Your thighs pressed tight in search of friction as you felt Lando stroking Carlos over his jeans and you felt them both shiver in anticipation.

“How attached are you to this dress?” Lando asked.

“I love it, but I’ll love it more the faster it comes off.”

His smirk grew and he reached for the thigh split, his strength easily overcoming the sewed join as he ripped it all the way to the top. The material fell open, only kept up by the thin straps over your shoulders, until Carlos brushed them off.

“Dios mio.”

Carlos chuckled at Lando’s poor pronunciation and ran a hand down the curves of your body. “Is that all you have learned from me, carnal?”

“I can’t think of anything when you do that,” he admitted. “You’re so fucking lucky.”

You weren’t quite sure who he was saying it to and you shared a smile with Carlos as you saw the same thought pass across his eyes. “I’m feeling pretty lucky right now,” you teased as you took Carlos’ hand and guided it to the juncture of your thighs. “I have two very handsome men with me, except they are completely overdressed.”

You stepped away from them and climbed onto the bed, taking a seat at the headboard. “You can’t join me until you are naked.”

Lando nearly fell over as his legs tangled in his jeans but he kicked them aside and tore his shirt over his head. Carlos was more content to remove his shirt and unbuckle his belt before taking a seat on the couch in the room. He could see how eager his friend was and was willing to let him have some unbridled fun before he joined in.

“Go ahead, carnal,” he encouraged when he saw Lando stop and look back.

“Told you he likes to watch,” you said as you rose to your knees and met him in the middle of the bed. You combed your fingers through his hair and looked into his pretty puppy eyes, he was waiting for your guidance. You decided you quite liked looking into his eyes and pushed his chest, forcing him onto his back. “You still wanna be my toy tonight?”

“Yes, fuck yes.” He cradled your ass as you climbed up his body, straddling his chest as you looked down at him. “Use me, baby, I’ll do anything you want.”

You smirked at Carlos as you shifted and felt Lando’s tongue flick out and swipe your slit as you settled over his face. Lando’s moan quickly followed the taste before he gripped your hips and tugged you down on his lips. Like a starving man, he devoured your pussy, licking and sucking you into a frenzy until your moans grew louder, urging him on further.

“Spank her, carnal,” Carlos urged, his voice tense as he gripped his cock tightly and leaned closer in the chair. “Make her come screaming your name.”

You rocked your hips over his face as he fucked you with his tongue and jolted with the sudden flame that kissed your ass. “Harder,” you breathed as your eyes fluttered shut and your thighs clenched around his head. Lando’s hand scorched your cheek again and your head fell back as the heat spread to your cunt, spilling over his lips in waves as you cried out his name.

Then, you were airborne. Lando’s muscles tensed as he sat up with you still riding out your orgasm on his face. He flopped you onto the pillows and chuckled at the fucked out look in your eyes but he wasn’t finished with you as he buried his face back between your legs and added two thick fingers to your cunt. Your back arched as your pussy clamped around the digits, tight from the orgasm that still sent pulses throughout your body.

“Dios mio,” Carlos groaned as he rose from the bed and walked around to the drawer on your side. Your eyes could barely see him as they rolled back into your head but you heard the click of the cap from the bottle of lube. “Keep going, hermoso.”

You hadn’t noticed Lando had stopped, you were too busy watching Carlos kneel onto the bed behind Lando. The younger driver's legs were spread where he lay on his stomach between yours and his toes curled at the touch of the cold gel on his ass.

“I’ll warm it up,” Carlos promised as he gently massaged the lube around Lando’s hole, drawing a low moan from him.

You were glad the pillows held you up because your body was not functioning right as you watched Lando’s eyes close and his teeth bite his bottom lip at the finger Carlos worked inside him. Lando’s breath tickled your thighs as he moaned deeply as you combed your fingers into his curls.

“You like that, baby?” you asked knowingly. “You want Carlos to fuck you?”

“Yes…please,” he whimpered with need, rocking his hips to take it deeper. “I want him.”

Carlos added a second finger and you gasped as Lando buried his teeth in your thigh and pumped his fingers into your cunt at the same pace.

“I want you too,” Lando moaned, peering up from between your legs with dark eyes.

You looked over his shoulder to see Carlos squeezing a generous layer of gel down his thick length, lazily stroking it to spread it evenly. He was ready, and you were more than ready.

“Come on then, handsome, fuck me like you could only imagine. Take me how you want,” you dared, remembering his wish that he whispered in your ear.

“You’re going to fucking kill me,” Lando groaned as he knelt on the bed and flipped you over, pulling you hips up so you were on all fours. “And I’ll die happy.” He snapped his hips forward and buried himself in your pussy, the warm wet walls clenching around him until he bottomed out and you both moaned at how good it felt.

“Ready, hermoso?” Carlos asked as he positioned himself behind Lando, teasing his tip around his hole before gently pushing against the resistance.

Lando didn’t answer out loud. He pulled out of you, pushing himself back onto Carlos’ cock and his breath froze in his lungs as the fullness grew inch by inch. “Fuck…” he moaned breathlessly, stopping for a moment to adjust before he dragged his hips forward again and filled you.

“I’m not sure who is the toy now,” Carlos teased as Lando set himself a steady pace of fucking you and then fucking himself agaisnt Carlos with each thrust and retreat. You didn’t care if he was using you at the point, you were so far gone in your pleasure you weren’t sure you were ever going to come down. “But fuck this feels good. Your ass is perfect, cariño.”

Lando moaned at the praise and sped up, the sounds of bodies slapping together filling the hotel room just as loud as your moans. The bruising grip on your hips tightened and you reached between your legs to press a finger to your puffy clit. The growing tightness in your body surged with the added stimulation and your legs began to tremble before a fresh wave of pleasure rolled over you.

Your orgasm sent your walls pulsing around his cock and he cried out as it triggered his own, the hot ropes of his cum filling your cunt until it dripped down your quaking thighs. Carlos bit his full lip as Lando’s body clamped down around his cock and it was all too much to resist his own release. Spanish tumbled from his lips as he buried himself as deep as he could, the weight of his body pinning you to the mattress beneath Lando. Lando cried out again as he felt Carlos’ cock pulse inside him, the warmth of his seed spilling into him.

Carlos pressed a soft kiss to Lando’s shoulder before gently pulling out and collapsing to the bed panting. The weight lifted and you could breathe fully again as your boyfriend wrapped an arm around Lando, his fingertips dancing on your skin.

“That was…” Carlos couldn’t seem to find the word to describe it, but you understood.

“Yeah, it was,” you giggled.

“Definitely,” Lando confirmed, still panting in recovery as he started to sit up.

“Stay,” Carlos whispered as he pulled him back down between your bodies. “You don’t have to go.”

“Are you sure?”

You rolled over to face him and mirrored Carlos, curling an arm around his waist too so he was cocooned. “Definitely.”

#Carlando x reader #Carlando smut #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reader #lando norris smut #carlos sainz smut #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 smut

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zeeislewd · 8 months

Text

Your partner catches you staring again, their lips turning down into a slight frown. They sigh, crossing their arms in a way that lets them rest their forearms on their gravid belly.

"What? Never considered I have to grow all those eggs I put in you?" They said, running a hand down their belly, all the way underneath to help support the weight. Then they noticed the way you had been staring, and not just that you had been staring and the frown started to fade, a little glint showing in their eye. They stepped forward, moving awkwardly with all the weight they carried with them. "I've never let myself grow this many before, you know? I've never let it build up for more than a week, no more than I could hide with some baggier clothes." They spoke, their voice lowering to a purr as they drew nearer to where you lay, crawling into the bed atop you, straddling you.

"I've never had someone to put these in before." There's a hunger in their voice now as you see their ovipositor begin to creep into view, brushing against your bare thigh, sliding up towards your wet cunt. Their other tentacles pull your legs apart, giving themself full access to you. They reach their hands out to yours, guiding you to hold the weight of their gravid belly, letting you feel how taut it's become with nearly a month's worth of eggs weighing them down.

"Now all they need is their mother's nice, warm womb to incubate... There's not enough space in me for them to keep growing." They say, their ovipositor starting to press itself into your waiting slit, squirming and slithering upwards as deep as it can go. You feel the familiar push against your cervix, against that place nothing should be able to reach. It doesn't even hurt now, when they push inside of your womb to claim you; it's so familiar, and you did always have a little bit of a masochistic streak, didn't you?

The eggs start to push into you, the size of tennis balls, nearly getting stuck before even entering inside; it was lucky they had a little bit of squish to them, otherwise they'd probably tear you apart just trying to fit one. The first egg always comes alone, helping prepare you, open you up to its siblings coming shortly after. Then you start feeling the intervals between eggs shorten... Maybe ten seconds at first, then five, then barely two, then they feel like a nonstop flow of eggs, of their eggs filling you.

With your hands on their belly you can feel them start to shrink back down as they turn you into their incubator once more. You can feel the shifting of the multitude inside them as each egg starts to enter their ovipositor, then into you.You can feel the weight transfer into you. They were right; they always grew larger inside you before they properly hatched, and your frame was so much smaller than theirs you were already nearly immobilized by the shear weight of their eggs. They were only a little over halfway done.

It felt like you were trapped there beneath them for minutes on end receiving their eggs. Blissful minutes, wracked with orgasm after orgasm until your mind slipped away and the only concept of time that existed was right now. Right now, being filled, being theirs. You hardly noticed when the eggs finally stopped coming, when their belly was flat and yours was so large you couldn't see the tentacles holding you past your bump. The blissful haze was so strong you could hardly form words, but they seemed to understand what you needed nonetheless, leaning down to slip their arms around you, having to settle for draping an arm over your belly for now instead.

They smiled softly at you, leaning in ever so close until you could feel the heat of their breath against your ear, and whispered.

"What a good little incubator you are."

#belly k!nk #eggpreg #ovi kink #preggo kink #tentacles #ovipositor #consentacles

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fangswbenefits · 9 months

Text

Breathe

Summary: Astarion is more than eager to show you the perks of not breathing.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Face riding/sitting. Praise kink. Precum. Cumplay (if you squint). Masturbation.

Word count: 1.6k

It was the cold press of lips along the nape of your neck that gradually raised you from your sleep.

“Astarion…”

The arm around your waist pulled you in closer, and you shuddered at the feel of his usually cool skin now warm from your own body heat.

He began trailing lingering kisses along your shoulder as his hand travelled upwards until his thumb brushed the underside of one breast.

“I’m sleepy…” you grumbled, burying your face in the soft pillow.

“I’ll wake you up.”

And he meant every word.

A dedicated lover such as Astarion would always find a way to bestow pleasure upon you whenever possible.

“You know….there’s perks to not breathing.”

You let out a yawn. “Is that so?”

He hummed, tracing the area around your nipple without quite touching it, effectively having your body yearn for more.

The faintest pressure against your backside was enough to note that his cock was beginning to harden.

Neither of you ever bothered wearing clothes to bed as it would just be a nuisance whenever lust decided to strike.

“And what makes you say that?” you mumbled.

Slowly but surely, he hardened your nipple with the pad of his thumb, always eager to showcase just how masterful he could be with his fingers.

“Sit on my face.”

That remark immediately had your eyes open and you turned your head to meet his gaze.

“Oh, do not act so coy, darling,” he cooed with a click of his tongue, giving your nipple a teasing squeeze. “You do know I adore tasting you in more ways than one.”

That you did, but you had yet to indulge in his suggestion.

Instinctively, you bucked your hips into him, earning a quick hiss as his cock began to drip precum.

“Go on… sit on my face.”

There was a hint of despair in his voice that did wonders to your ego and to the growing swell in between your folds.

You pushed yourself to sit before giving his lips a quick peck, which drew a devious smile from him.

“I don’t want to hurt you…” you said hesitantly.

He patted your thigh lovingly. “Darling, the only pain you can inflict on me is from not allowing me to eat you out.”

Heat rushed to your face in record time.

As always, Astarion had a gift for words, especially when it came to seduction.

He rolled onto his back, giving your backside a light squeeze and nudging you forward.

Oh.

You felt the familiar throb down below provide enough motivation for you to slowly shift along the mattress and settle each leg on either side of his head, gripping the headboard for support.

One glance down and you saw him give you an encouraging smile.

It was unjust how handsome he was…

And you still feared it might be too much…

“Are you sure about this?”

He rolled his eyes dramatically, and hooked both arms around your thighs, quickly yanking you down until his cool tongue was pressed flat against your folds.

You immediately let out a gasp as his nose settled against the growing swell, providing a delicious friction that had you nearly losing balance until you leaned forward against the wooden headboard.

Gods above…

The tip of his tongue prodded at your entrance briefly before he slowly dragged it along your folds and closed his lips around your swell.

That nearly took your breath away and you could stop yourself from clenching desperately around nothing as he suckled softly on you.

It was getting harder and harder to stop yourself from grinding down and fully riding his face, and you were sure your knees would cramp eventually if you kept resisting his pull.

Astarion began sucking harder, his grip on your thighs tightened and you could hear an increasing disapproving growl from him.

Startled, you lifted your hips at once, glancing down at his handsome handsome, your wetness coating his nose and lips and chin.

A glorious sight, indeed.

“Was it too much?”

He scowled. Deeply.

“I told you to sit on my face, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but…”

Oh, he wasn’t amused at all.

“Then don’t hold back. Please.”

There was something truly riveting about Astarion pleading you to let him please you, that never failed to make your heart skip several beats.

You slowly lowered yourself, watching his eyes flutter shut as you settled against his mouth once again.

This time, you earned a content rumble from him, his tongue eagerly lapping at your wetness and the pressure of his nose against you already testing your sanity.

Lunging forward, you gripped the headboard, resting your face against your arms as a string of moans began to spill from your mouth.

With each swipe of his tongue… every nudge of his nose and all the groans that reverberated across his lips against your swell.

He felt divine and you chose to fully cave in, rolling your hips and occasionally glancing down to stare at the gorgeous man underneath you that so skillfully worshipped every single inch of your body.

“Gods…” you kept on groaning from time to time whenever he caught a hold of you again and hungrily began to suckle.

It was proving to be a struggle just keeping your eyes open to witness your wetness spread along his skin.

As aroused as you were, you still tried your best to ride him slowly, yearning for more friction, but it wasn’t until you brought one hand down to grip his unruly curls that he groaned harder against you, one of his arms dropping from your thigh.

Driven by curiosity and through the near-blinding haze of lust, you looked over your shoulder only to see his hand firmly closing around his cock.

A deep moan escaped your lips at the obscene amount of precum that dripped from the tip in a single thick string pooling on his lower abdomen.

You felt him open his mouth, his fangs prodding teasingly against your skin. For a moment, you feared your rolling hips might cause him to accidentally nip you, but you needn’t worry.

Astarion was an attentive lover who excelled at prioritising pleasure above all else. Both his and yours.

Your pleasure was his.

His pleasure was your.

And you were now completely unable to look away from the way he quickly matched the rhythm in which he stroked his cock with that of his tongue delving past your entrance.

“Astarion… go easy…” you gasped, closing your fingers around his soft curls as you simultaneously held on for dear life with a fierce grip on the headboard.

But he had no intention of slowing down and that was evident from how deep he was willing to go inside you, nose firmly pressed against between your folds.

The lewd sounds of him slurping your wetness mixed with those that he drew with each stroke around his cock began to echo throughout the room, further pushing you closer to your peak.

It utterly baffled you that he could be so turned on from having you in this position, but it shouldn't come as a surprise, considering how he never held back showering you in devotion and how much your responses would stroke his ego.

Precum dribbled along his length and down to his hand, small droplets dangling from it as he increased the pace, his own hips rhythmically lifting from the mattress as he fucked his own hand.

Feeling the ever-growing coil rise in your lower abdomen, you promptly chased after your high by grinding against him even more vigorously. Astarion responded to your newfound pace with a groan, sliding his tongue out and focusing his entire attention precisely where he should.

Such a devoted lover…

As soon as his hips wrapped around your swell, you bucked your hips further against him, breaking into a strained sob as you leaned forward to recover the balance he had knocked out of your body with his skillful mouth.

Incoherent words erupted from deep within you as you rode his face, desperate to reach that high only he could deliver.

With a few more suckles, your vision began to blur as you felt the overwhelming wave of pleasure crash down on you, now gripping strands of his hair in fists with both hands, stilling abruptly as your spasming thighs squeezed around his face.

“You’re so good…” you moaned, knowing fully well how much he adored your praise.

That was also what eventually drove him to reach his own peak, as the arm around your thigh began to tighten and his lips let go of your so his mouth could drop open in a muffled growl.

With wobbly legs and laboured breaths, you dropped to the side just so you could witness him riding out his own wave of bliss.

His face was completely soaked in your wetness, which streamed down his cheeks and his chin and neck.

Astarion always looked absolutely ethereal whilst coming undone, and you weren’t able to tear your eyes away from the amount of come that he kept squeezing from the tip with an iron-tight grip.

You shifted closer to him, pressing a soft kiss to his wet cheek as he cried out your name.

“You did so good…” you kept on repeating in between kisses before he hungrily took your lips in his, muffling his own groans.

You hadn’t realised your hand had moved to his chest until you felt a few strings of his spend coating your skin, but you couldn’t care less.

Tasting yourself in him drew an approving moan from you and he slowly broke the kiss, his eyelids heavy with the aftermath of lust.

“I reckon we should indulge in this more often.”

You chuckled, swiping your tongue along his lip. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this famished…”

He gripped your chin and pulled you into a searing kiss before parting again. “Is that a challenge, darling?”

Masterlist

#astarion smut #astarion x tav #astarion x female reader #astarion x female tav #astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion x you #astarion x f!tav #astarion x reader

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lowkeyren · 22 days

Text

—childhood sweetheart!

in which : as kids, you gave him a lollipop to thank him for his help, though you had no idea your kind gesture would spark a blossoming friendship —that would soon evolve into something far sweeter than candy.

pairing : alhaitham x gn!reader

wc 3.6k, childhood friends to (implied) lovers, one bittersweet scene but it's 99% tooth rotting fluff, kaveh n sumeru gang cameo!!, art by @/anno_meiji on x. reblogs r much appreciated!!!

@tragedy-of-commons @iceunhie fellow pissoners that told me to @ them + special thanks to beloved @synqiri for giving me ideas when i wrote this, salutations.

the house of daena was quiet, the air thick with the comforting scent of old books and polished wood; soft chatters among akademiya students drifted through the air, a gentle hum that mingled with the rustling of pages as scholars immersed themselves in their studies.

at a corner, you sat cross-legged, surrounded by volumes of scholarly tomes. yet, the real challenge before you wasn’t the big words or thick pages —but a far more irritating one: your shoelaces.

no matter how many times you tried, the laces refused to cooperate. they twisted and knotted themselves in ways that made you feel as if they had a mind of their own. you tugged at them over and over again, your small hands growing clumsy with frustration, making your struggle feel even more monumental.

you let out a small, exasperated sigh, your cheeks growing warm with the mounting irritation. who lets a five-year-old wear shoes with laces anyway?

a few feet away, sitting at a low table, was a boy a few years older than you, absorbed in a thick book that looked far too advanced for his age; the dense text and intricate diagrams didn’t seem to faze him at all. his expression remained one of calm detachment, his eyes moving over the pages meticulously. though even amidst his immersion in the book's complex diagrams and equations, your struggle still drew his attention.

with a sigh that sounded more out of obligation than concern, he set his book aside with precise care and approached you with a smooth, deliberate stride. his expression remained neutral, his eyes barely meeting yours as he knelt beside you.

“you’re having trouble with your laces,” he remarked, his tone even and matter-of-fact.

you looked up and nodded at the boy, relief evident in your eyes. “can you help me?” you asked, your voice wavering slightly with embarrassment.

without a word, he reached for your laces. you watched as he deftly untangled the mess you’d created, his movements precise and unhurried. with a few twists and loops, he had the laces neatly tied in no time. “there,” he said, standing up and brushing his hands off.

“thank you for helping me... um—”

“alhaitham,” the boy, who you now knew as alhaitham, spoke in a calm voice.

you smiled in return, relieved. “thank you, alhaitham.”

“it was nothing. i’m glad i could assist.” he said before glancing down at your shoelaces again, his tone as impersonal as ever.

you reached into your pocket and pulled out a small, brightly wrapped lollipop, its cheerful wrapping seemed almost too vibrant for his reserved demeanour. nevertheless, you held it out to him, “i want to give you this,” you said earnestly. “as a small token of my appreciation!”

he glanced at the lollipop, then back at you. you simply tilted your head in response. after a brief moment, he accepted it with a slight nod. “thanks,” he said simply before pocketing the sweet.

you smiled, “i’m [name], by the way.”

“i’ll remember that,” he replied, his tone softening slightly.

with that, you gathered your books, carefully stacking them in your arms as you rose to your feet. “i need to go now. see you around, alhaitham!” you grinned and gave a small wave before turning to leave, your footsteps growing faint as you walked away.

and though little-you didn’t know it at the time, that small act of kindness, wrapped in bright paper, would linger in his memory for years to come.

years passed. by now, it was clear that alhaitham was a prodigy, the sharpest of minds among those his age —a teenager admired by many, regardless of age. yet, such exceptional talent often attracts a level of jealousy that goes beyond mere admiration.

however, much like his aloof demeanour, he remained indifferent to the opinions and whispers of displeasure of others, even now, as he stood surrounded by students, their voices dripping with sarcasm and disdain.

"so, alhaitham," one of them jeered, "being a genius must be lonely, huh? too smart to have any real friends?" the others snickered along, clearly revelling in his deliberate silence. they envied the recognition and success he had achieved —things they could only dream of, and that envy fueled their petty desire to bring him down, even if only for a fleeting moment.

enough was enough.

“hey, give it a rest,” you interjected, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “oh, wait —it’s not like you have anything better to do than make fun of someone who’s actually achieved something, right?”

the laughter from the group began to die down as they turned their attention to you, the tension in the air thickening.

you tilted your head in feigned curiosity. “or is it the only thing you’re good at?”

the student’s face twisted into a scowl, clearly caught off guard by your retort. after a moment of fumbling for words, he muttered defensively, “whatever. like you’re so perfect yourself.”

you crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow. “seriously? that’s the best you’ve got?”

you met their gazes with a defiant smirk, enjoying the way their bravado faltered under your words. “it’s one thing to have nothing between those ears of yours, but there’s no need to be a jerk about it.”

they hesitated for a moment, stung by your remarks and clearly feeling their egos take a hit, they found themselves at a loss for words. finally, one of them muttered something under his breath before they all turned and slunk away, embarrassed.

as the last of their footsteps faded, you turned back to alhaitham, who was watching you with a slightly raised eyebrow. "you didn’t have to do that," he murmured. you shrugged, offering him a wry smile. "i know. but i wanted to.”

“besides, someone has to keep those idiots in check."

alhaitham regarded you for a moment longer before the corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly. "thank you.” you caught the subtle shift in his expression, the faintest hint of a smile playing on his lips. it was rare to see him react this way, and it made your small victory feel all the more rewarding.

you couldn’t help but grin.

“—you smiled!” giggling, you leaned in closer to him, as if sharing a secret. “i didn’t think i’d ever see that day.”

“no, i did not.” his expression snapped back to its usual deadpan, as if his momentary lapse had never happened.

“no? well, then you should smile more.” you slid into the chair next to him,

“why?”

you pulled out your book and opened it to the page marked by your bookmark. “you look good when you smile,” you said casually, your eyes still focused on the material in front of you as you unwrapped a candy and chewed on it, savouring the sweet taste.

alhaitham didn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed intently on the pages in front of him. though when he briefly turned his head to the side, his stoic expression faltered.

a faint smile tugged at the edges of his lips; he angled the book slightly higher, hiding his expression from view, while the subtle curve of his lips remained just barely visible.

it was a fleeting moment —nearly imperceptible, but unmistakably there.

“happy birthday, [name]!”

you clink your glass with dehya’s, the sound of the toast ringing out amidst the lively chatter. she grins and downs her drink in one swift motion, her laughter echoing as the others join in, raising their glasses to you.

nilou approaches you with a soft smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “i have something for you,” she says, holding out a small, intricately wrapped box. you open it to find a delicate bracelet nestled inside.

“i hope today brings you as much joy as you bring to us.” you smile and thank her as she helps you fasten the bracelet around your wrist.

you glance over to where alhaitham is sitting, only to find him already looking at you; he gives you a slight nod before burying his face back into his book. though you notice that alhaitham's usual noise-cancelling headphones are conspicuously absent, as if choosing to be fully present, especially when you're near.

suddenly, you feel a tap on your shoulder. when you turn around, you’re greeted with kaveh’s unmistakable grin, “surprise!” he exclaims with a flourish, his voice brimming with infectious enthusiasm. he extends a beautifully hand-carved, ornate wooden box to you, “go on, open it!” he urges, barely containing his excitement.

with a nod, you carefully lift the lid, revealing the contents inside. the box is lined with rich velvet, and nestled within is a tiny, intricately designed music box and a set of miniature sculptures —as expected, his craftsmanship is nothing short of impeccable. you thank him graciously and carefully set the box down on the table beside tighnari’s gift.

as the evening unfolds, you notice alhaitham occasionally glancing up from his book, his gaze fixing on you, each glance subtly drawing your attention. his eyes, typically so absorbed in the pages, now linger on you with a soft intensity that speaks volumes.

it’s obvious that the night has come to an end when you glance to your side and can’t help but chuckle at the sight of kaveh, completely blackout drunk and slumped over the couch.

“don’t worry, we’ll handle him,” cyno heads for the door after lifting kaveh over his shoulder with ease; he shares a knowing glance with tighnari. “enjoy the rest of your night!” with a final wave, they disappear out the door, leaving you and alhaitham alone in the cozy tranquillity of your home.

“looks like it’s just us now,” you say, sinking onto the sofa beside him and stifling a yawn, the night clearly taking a toll on you.

“indeed,” alhaitham replies, his gaze softening as he looks over at you. he reaches behind him and holds his hand out towards you with his fist closed.

“here, a reward for your hard work,” he opens his palm to reveal a small piece of your favourite candy resting on it. “happy birthday, [name].”

the light from the candles flickers softly, casting a warm glow that dances across the room. it bathes the space in a gentle radiance, highlighting the perfect angles of his face and making him look all the more handsome.

alhaitham had never been a big fan of sweets. to him, they were a trivial indulgence, neither particularly enticing nor off-putting.

but for you, he might learn to like it more.

after all, if all it takes is a piece of candy to see your smile —sweeter than any treat known to mankind, then maybe there's a reason to enjoy them after all.

as you begin to nod off, he gently strokes your hair and carefully adjusts your position, guiding your head to rest on his chest.

with a soft sigh, he blows out the candles.

perhaps rationality has its limits when it comes to matters of the heart, for he can’t help but feel that love, in all its irrationality, defies the logic he clings to so fiercely. “love” didn’t follow the neat, predictable patterns of reason —it was wild, unpredictable, and utterly beyond his control.

yet, despite its chaos, or perhaps because of it, he was okay with it —he was okay with you.

“is it necessary for you to leave?”

“sorry haitham, it's for my research. but i’ll be gone for just a few years, and we'll cross paths again before you know it.”

just a few.. years? you must’ve really underestimated how long that’ll feel. he lets out a disapproving huff, his brows knitting together. “...where will you be going?”

“fontaine,” you replied, “the leylines there hold the key to my research, and it’s an opportunity i can’t pass up.” you hesitate for a moment before adding softly, “i wish you could come along… but with your duties as the acting grand sage, i understand that it’s not possible.”

“i suppose you’ve already made up your mind.”

you nodded, trying to muster a reassuring smile. “i have. but i’ll make sure to write whenever i can!” he studies your face for a long moment, as if committing every detail to memory, afraid he’ll forget the moment you turn your back to him.

“just... promise me you’ll take care of yourself,” he finally said, his tone more tender compared to a moment ago. “and don’t lose yourself in your research.”

you reach out, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “i promise, haitham.” you open his palm and place a small candy in the centre before closing his fingers around it. “something to remember me by,” you add, your voice barely above a whisper as you look up at him.

his eyes trail your figure, his hands clutching the candy tightly, the wrapping paper crinkling in his fist as you start to walk away. midway, you pause, turning around to look at him once more, you flash him a warm smile before waving goodbye.

this time, unlike the first time you met, he returns the gesture with a wave of his own.

it’s unusual, uncharacteristic for alhaitham to lose his focus so easily.

the subtle crease in his brow —a dead giveaway to anyone who knew him well; and being his roommate, kaveh noticed it first.

leaning against the table, he glanced at the open book, then back at alhaitham. "you know, that page won’t read itself," he quipped, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

alhaitham didn’t bother looking up, his finger idly tracing the edge of the page. "i’m well aware." after a moment, he finally turned the page with a slight frown, his mind clearly not on the book.

cyno, sitting across from him, folded his arms and leaned back in his seat. "you’ve been staring at that same paragraph for nearly an hour.” he remarks, his tone laced with amusement. tighnari raises his eyebrows, lightly swirling the drink in his cup, “it’s rare to see you this distracted. must be something—or someone—truly exceptional."

alhaitham finally looks up, meeting their gazes with a flat expression, “you all certainly have a lot of free time," he remarked dryly.

cyno shrugs, shaking his head. "you’re just making it too easy, alhaitham."

tighnari, however, leans forward slightly, his gaze softening with genuine concern despite the playful edge in his voice just a minute ago. “but seriously,” he adds, “it’s perfectly fine to admit you miss [name]. we all do, after all, it has been a year.”

alhaitham sighs heavily, closing the book with a soft thud. “i’m perfectly fine."

"sure you are," kaveh drawls, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "it’s not like you’ve been more irritable than usual —or, i don’t know, distracted by a certain someone who’s not here."

for once, alhaitham doesn’t offer a retort. instead, he quietly unwraps a candy and slips it into his mouth, letting its sweet taste wash over him.

but that is all the answer they need.

unbothered from the looks he receives from his friends, he signals the manager over, “boss, a box of macaroons to go, please.”

later that night, alhaitham sits in his room —he absently reaches for the box of macaroons but his hand lands on the bright candy wrapper crumpled on the table, though it seems out of place amidst the quiet room, it remains a perfect, poignant reminder of you, in his heart.

the notion of your sweetness is tantalising, one that mingles with the lingering taste of the macaroons on his palate, making him yearn for the real experience, to discover if you, too, could leave such a lasting impression.

—and truth to be told, i really missed you too. there's so much more i want to share with you, so many things i’ve seen and felt that only you would truly understand. but lucky for us, i’ll be at l'encre des marées in the court of fontaine, for the next few days! haitham, come visit me, will you?

alhaitham’s footsteps echo softly against the cobblestone street as he approaches the address you gave him.

a bookstore, huh. it seems fitting enough.

he folds your letter and slips it into the pocket of his coat; the gentle chime of the bell above the door announces his arrival. the warm, ambient light of the store envelops him —a voice rings out, welcoming him, but he pays it no mind.

he moves silently between the tall bookshelves, his gaze sweeping over the interior, searching for you within the labyrinth of aisles. though with no sign of you in sight, a faint crease forms between his brows, a subtle yet telling sign of his disappointment.

he comes to a stop in front of one of the shelves, the familiar scent of paper and ink wafting around him. might as well get something, he thinks. his hand hovers over the spines, his fingers brushing lightly against them; the choice is almost arbitrary, driven more by habit than intent.

the title barely registers in his mind as he turns away from the shelf. with the book in hand, he makes his way towards the counter. he places the book down with a soft thud, and lets his mind drift to you —your latest letter, the anticipation of seeing you here, the subtle disappointment of your absence; he imagines the sound of your voice, the way you might have greeted him had you been there, the little gestures that are make you, so distinctly, you.

the cashier’s voice pulls him back to the present. “thank you for your patronage!” the words are accompanied by the soft rustling of paper as the bag is handed over to him. he reaches out to take it, but just as he’s about to withdraw his hand, something else is pressed into his palm —a small lollipop.

he blinks, momentarily caught off guard. what? is this a… fontaine custom? he turns the lollipop over in his hand, the cashier’s voice continues, cheerful and slightly sing-song. “don’t forget to visit us again—”

or is he losing his mind? because the sound of your voice, so clear and familiar, “—alhaitham.” echoes his name as if you were standing right infront of him.

his eyes snap up, eyes widening ever so slightly as he looks at the cashier. and there you are, behind the counter, your gaze meeting his with a familiar warmth. he finds himself staring at you, the very person he had been hoping to see; you smile at him, the same smile he had imagined countless times... and his heart still skips a beat.

“life here in fontaine has been quite a journey.” you stroll side by side, alhaitham listens quietly, absorbing every detail as you recount your journey. your research, originally projected to take more time, has progressed exceptionally well; the results are promising, and you’re now ahead of schedule, which means that you’ll be back in sumeru in less than a week’s time (much to his pleasure).

as you both turn a corner, you suddenly stop and turn to face him. “i’ve been doing all the talking so far,” you smile up at him, “what about you?”

“nothing much, things have been…” he begins, pausing as he searches for the right words. he glances around, just as street lamps flicker to life before continuing, “...rather routine.”

(he’s not lying, no, never to you. “routine” as in routinely thinking about you nonstop —yes, that’s the underlying meaning, though his outward implication is quite… mundane.)

though what you didn’t quite expect next was for alhaitham to extend his hand towards you, his pinky raised in a gesture like an earnest request for a pinky promise. dumbfounded, you chuckle softly, “what’s this for?”

without waiting for an answer, you decide to indulge him, linking your pinky with his. as your thumbs briefly touch, you catch the look in his eyes —serious, yet with a softness that makes your heart skip. “a promise that i’ll be by your side as long as sugar tastes sweet,” he says, his voice low and sincere.

he gently turns his hand downward, his fingers sliding smoothly between yours, interlocking them in a firm yet tender grip. slowly, he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the back of it. “so, come back with me, [name].”

his thumb continues to trace lazy circles on your skin, drawing you closer. leaning in, his breath is warm against your cheek, the space between you vanishes as he tilts his head slightly, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours, close enough that you can almost taste the promise in his words.

his eyes flicker down to your lips, then back up. you catch his gaze and a small smile starts to form, “you don’t have to ask me twice.”

your eyes flutter shut as his lips brush softly against yours —and he tastes the first bite of a sun-warmed strawberry, a burst of sweetness that lingers on his lips, leaving him craving more. utterly intoxicating, like the scent of honey carried on a warm breeze, filling the air with a fragrance that makes him close his eyes and breathe deeply, savouring the moment.

you taste just like summer —vivid, unforgettable, and leaving him yearning for those endless days and nights, where his world is alive with sparking memories he clings to as the seasons change; so much so that even when autumn's chill begins to settle, he can't help but reach out for the warmth that only your presence can bring.

but most importantly,

you taste unbelievably sweet.

good question google

MASTERLIST.

#✧renwrites!#—stellaronhvnters.#alhaitham x reader #al haitam x reader #alhaitham x you #al haitham x you #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham fluff #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin x y/n #alhaitham genshin #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #genshin impact #alhaitham

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daemonsversion · 8 months

Text

Hightower Girl | Daemon x Reader

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Female (Hightower) Reader

Summary: Sometimes it seems like Daemon has made it his life's mission to annoy you as much as possible. However, when he learns that your father has practically arranged a marriage for you, a long hidden desire comes raging to the surface.

Content etc: profanity, slight masturbation but not really, smut (fingering, loss of virginity) I never know what to put here tbh. Sorry for any mistakes, I only read back through it once or so.

Word count: 6,935 (my first fic on this page was NOT meant to be this long help)

The air held a chill as you turned your gaze up to the sky. You were standing at one of the large windows, looking out over the courtyard as the morning light continued to grow. It was beautiful to look at, yet the chill felt similar to the one that ran through your heart.

With a sigh, you turned away and retreated down the corridor. Last night your father, Otto Hightower, had told you of his plans to marry you off to one of the lords on the small council. You would, quite frankly, rather eat your own head but when you tried to protest all he'd done was get upset with you and tell you it was long overdue that you wed.

So you had been in a downward spiral ever since, trying to decide what - if anything - you could do to get out of it. It was a feeling of powerlessness that had you in its grip as you lamented that there might actually be nothing that you could do about it. Unfortunately, in many ways, you were seen as your father's property. To effectively sell off as he saw fit.

You didn't see him at first. Your eyes were fixed firmly ahead as you walked but they were not really working as they should. You had tunnel vision, moving mainly on autopilot. It wasn't until you'd walked right into Prince Daemon and trodden on his foot that you realised he was anywhere in the vicinity.

"Ah-careful!" He hissed, though not out of real anger, just a bit of surprise and pain because you'd really stomped down on his toes without meaning to. His hands had shot up to your shoulders, pushing you away from him, holding you at arms length.

Your gazes met at the same time and he blinked, abruptly letting go of you and stepping back, his eyes looking you up and down. "Oh." Hightower girl.

You frowned at his reaction but you were not in the mood today to get into an argument with the prince of the city, though some days you almost lived for it. "Forgive me, I was not looking where I-"

"No. I daresay you were not." Daemon smoothly interrupted, causing a flash of irritation to go through you. As much as you tried to conceal it, it did not go unnoticed and his lip curled into an amused smirk.

He leaned in slightly, his eyes now full of mischief as he saw the reaction he'd drawn out of you. Very similar to the ones you often drew from him, merely by the circumstance of your birth. He had not the stomach for Hightower cunts, after all, but he had absolutely found some use for you - getting to make you scowl and want to stomp your pretty little foot was the highlight of his day sometimes.

"You know, if you wanted to be close to me, all you had to do was ask." He purred, a hand coming up to brush a stray lock of hair from your face.

Your own hand immediately came up to slap his away before he could even touch you. Daemon chuckled, straightening up and letting his eyes roam down your form once more, from head to toe. This time it felt like there was something more than just derision there... and a sort of heat started to creep through you. Once his eyes met yours again, he gave you another one of his irritating smirks and then turned on his heel and vanished as quickly as he had appeared.

With a glare, you watched him leave, ignoring the deep ache that started to gnaw at you somewhere within and then you turned away and continued about your business.

Idiot.

Hours later, your frustrated footsteps took you through the keep, away from your father's office, out into the fresh air. The expression on your face was anything but happy, the argument you had just had with Otto fresh in your mind. You had, of course, gone to him intending to have a very levelheaded conversation about all of this but as usual it had descended into madness.

'It is high time you wed and start a family of your own, I have coddled you too long. Grow up. You will marry him.'

The words were spinning in your mind as you exited and stormed out to the Godswood. Not for any reason other than the fact that you knew it would be empty of people and your main desire was to be alone.

You didn't even want to talk it out with your little sister right now because you knew Alicent would only try and defend him. Ever the little appeaser, she would probably say that Otto was only doing what he thought was best. If he wanted to do what was best for you, why not let you marry someone you wanted, when you wanted?

A large pair of hands suddenly gripping you by the waist from behind and pulling you backwards, flush up against a hard body, startled you from your web of thoughts.

"You know the Gods aren't actually listening, don't you?" Daemon's lips grazed your hair and his breath was hot in your ear.

With a squeal, you scrunched in on yourself, squirming out of his grasp, twisting around to shove him away by the chest. "Daemon!" Your tone was scolding.

He only chuckled, leaning against the nearest tree as he looked back at you. "What?" He asked innocently.

You could only frown. Usually you had no problem giving back what you got but you simply don't have the heart for any of it today.

"Oh, what?" Daemon practically sneered, his lip curling as he stared at you. "Cat got your tongue, Hightower girl?" He knew your name but he never bothered to use it, simply out of a desire to further annoy you. You only ever called him by his name and he never called you by yours.

You rolled your eyes and gave him a look but there was not as much fire in it as usual and he found that this disappointed him a little.

"I saw you leaving your father's office." Daemon continued, watching the way your jaw tightened just slightly. He smirked. "Is it your cunt of a father that has upset you, hm?"

Where he expected to see a scowl at his insult against Otto, perhaps even a little fight, you instead huffed a humourless laugh and threw your hands up in a defeated manner. Upset was an understatement, you felt so far beyond just upset.

Daemon frowned, his expression becoming more serious. Well, teasing you was no fun if you did not react in the way he had become accustomed to. It seemed that he might have hit the nail on the head here without even really meaning it - he thought your mournful look was due to his presence, though now that he thought about it you had stormed out here in something of a temper. He had followed you all the way from inside, after all, so he'd seen the swiftness of your steps.

"What has he done now?" He asked then, studying your face with a look you rarely saw on him.

"Nothing." You mumbled, looking down at the ground. The last thing you wanted to do was pour your heart out to Daemon fucking Targaryen.

"It does not look like nothing." Was all the prince said in response.

Just that, not a hint of mockery in his tone, and you lifted your head to frown at him again. He did not look his usual level of cruel amusement. He looked almost like he... actually just wanted to know. That couldn't be right.

However, something about that made you just blurt the words out. Your father had basically sold you off to one of those stupid, stuffy lords on the small council. You had no choice and you felt like you were suffocating!

After you finished venting, Daemon's expression changed again. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but you caught the slight narrowing of his eyes as he stared at you in silence. The smugness seemed to have been wiped completely from his face. You couldn't remember the last time you'd seen him without it.

"What?" You asked, confused now as well as frustrated. Why was he not making fun of you about this? Why was he not taunting you with your looming fate?

Daemon gave the slightest shake of his head, his gaze dropping away from your face slightly. He opened his mouth as if to speak and then he closed it again as if he'd changed his mind. His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip and then he turned his face, looking away over the trees.

Your gaze had dropped to his mouth but you ignored the feeling in the pit of your stomach that the glimpse of his tongue gave you and tried to focus.

"What?" You asked again, a little more firmly this time. Daemon's silence was setting you on edge.

"What do you mean, what?" Daemon practically hissed as he turned his face back towards you.

Your glare returned at his tone. That was more like it. More familiar. "What do you think I mean? What is your problem?"

"You are my problem!" Was his furious reply as he took a step towards you.

"I have never done anything to you!" You exclaimed back. It was always him! Starting an argument or saying something snide in passing. He'd started this whole thing! If you were such a problem, why did he keep seeking you out just to bother you?

"Oh, do not act as though you are blind!" Daemon said, exasperated.

"What are you talking about?" You could not understand how a discussion about your predicament had spun so out of control. Why was he so angry? He was the one who'd asked! You were the one who was being given to some random man! "This is typical Daemon Targaryen. Everything is always about y-"

"You know very well that I have desired you, do not try and deny it!" Daemon snapped.

The silence that followed was absolutely deafening. You stared at him, your expression now one of shock. He stared back, his one of anger and also regret for speaking the words aloud.

"You..." Was all you could get out before you fell silent once more. This did not make sense.

In one of the most surprising moves he had ever pulled on you, Daemon closed the remaining distance in an instant. Taking your face in between his hands, he held you in place for a moment as his dark gaze burned across your features, and then his mouth descended upon yours and you were thrown so far into shock you were not sure you would ever come back from it.

His kiss was hot and passionate and his tongue was in your mouth before you knew what was happening as you... kissed him back, the desire that had been fighting for attention inside you for years now taking control.

His hands moved from your face and took hold of your waist as his mouth continued to explore yours, guiding you backwards towards the tree and pressing you gently up against it. You would have expected him to be rough and quick but he was not. His touch was gentle and soft and your heart was practically flying in your chest.

His body pressed up against yours as he deepened the kiss and you couldn't stop a soft sound of desire leaving you. It spurred Daemon on as a hand moved up from your waist, sliding up over your dress. He groaned into your mouth at the shape of you and you felt like you were on fire.

Only when Daemon's fingers began to fiddle with the lacing at the front of your bodice did you come back to your senses, turning your face to break the kiss and the hands that had moved to grasp his shirt began to push him away. "Stop... stop..."

The kiss stopped but Daemon did not immediately move away, his nose grazing your hair and his breath now hot against your ear as he fought to get his lust under control.

Eventually, he pulled away, his hands leaving you, stepping back to put distance between you both.

You were in an absolute whirlwind. Had that actually just happened? You had kissed Daemon. Daemon had kissed you. He'd been desiring you? For how long? Why? He hated you, did he not? You had so many questions and a moment later you turned your face back so you could see him.

Daemon stood where he was for another few moments, breathing heavily as he stared at you, his expression unreadable. Then he suddenly turned on his heel and started walking off.

"Daemon!" You called, stepping after him in surprise. What? He was just going to leave? This was not finished!

The prince said not another word, nor did he turn around, simply picked up his pace and disappeared.

The night was quiet.

The hour of the wolf had come and you had still not managed to fall asleep. It was not just your marriage predicament playing on your mind this night, it was also the moment with Daemon in the Godswood.

His hands on your waist. His tongue in your mouth.

You would be lying if you tried to convince yourself that you had never imagined it before. Despite the way he often spoke to you, and the remarks or looks you sometimes even gave him back, you had always had that funny feeling around Daemon. Try as you might (because he was a complete bastard, there was no denying it) you just hadn't been able to shake it. That desire.

Desire. He'd said he had desired you. How long had he felt that way? Why had he never said or done anything? To be fair, you knew why, and it probably had everything to do with your father.

Otto Hightower was the snake in Daemon's boot.

You thought about the way he'd looked at you when you'd told him about Otto's plan to marry you off. The speechlessness you had never witnessed before. The way his anger had risen quite quickly, causing him to just blurt out these apparently hidden feelings he'd been harbouring.

Your thoughts began to wander, wondering what would have happened if you had just let him continue what he'd been doing. If you'd let him pull at the laces of your dress and go further. He'd already had you up against the tree, what would it have been like if you'd just... let him take you?

As you imagined it, an ache began to grow steadily down between your thighs. Sighing, you squirmed. It was too late for this! You needed to sleep... yet it would not go away and your thoughts would not quiet.

With a frustrated noise, you shifted and your hand slid beneath the sheets. You couldn't believe that you were about to do this. Touch yourself to the thought of Daemon fucking Targaryen. That rude, arrogant, self-centred...

Your eyes drifted closed as you pulled the hem of your nightdress up and moved your fingers where you wanted - no, needed - them.

The lightest of touches was all you were afforded before you heard the sound of soft knocking at the door. You flinched, eyes flying open again as you sat up on your elbows and stared at the door with a frown.

The hour was so late. Who could that possibly be?

"Who is it?" You eventually called out, in case it was Alicent or maybe a guard informing people of a problem - though you had not heard any activity in the halls.

Instead of receiving a reply, your heart leapt into your throat as the door was simply pushed open upon hearing you were awake and a figure slipped into the room. It took you a moment to realise it was not any old intruder.

"Daemon!" Your heart rate slowed again, though not by much. The fact he was here at all was very improper.

He did not speak but stayed standing by the now closed door, staring at you through the darkness.

His silent, lingering presence in your dark chamber unnerved you slightly. "What are you doing?" You hissed.

Daemon blinked, seeming to snap out of whatever reverie he'd found himself in. He had been staring at you in the bed, not having been prepared for the sight even though he'd known logically you would be in it. "I thought that we should speak." He said, taking a step away from the door.

You sat up even further in the bed. "At this hour? In my chambers? You should not be here."

"I could not sleep." He said simply. Even through the darkness you could see the way his gaze flickered very quickly over your sheet-covered form.

"What has that got to do with me?" You asked even though you were pretty sure you already knew the answer. Had he been thinking about it too? Had it kept him awake as it had kept you?

Daemon's slight smirk returned as he took another step towards the bed and slowly moved to sit down on the edge of it. He wanted to touch you but he refrained. You were right, it was late and inappropriate but he just hadn't been able to rest. He had been pacing a hole in the floor of his own room for the past few hours.

You shifted in the silence that followed, refusing to be the first to break it. Your eyes were glued to him.

"I would say sorry about earlier," his voice came again. "But I would not mean it."

"Why are you here, Daemon?" You asked, ignoring what he'd just said completely.

He smiled a little wryly and his gaze dropped briefly to the low neckline of your nightdress and back up to your face. The moonlight streaming in through your window was the only thing illuminating the room.

"I think you know why I am here." He murmured, lifting a hand as if to reach for you face.

As earlier in the day, you lifted your own hand and lightly smacked his away before he could touch you. "I am not one of your whores!" You snapped, offended.

"Give yourself to me and I will never take another whore again, I swear it." Daemon said simply, his voice low as he leaned in slightly, his eyes never leaving your face.

"What?" You leaned backwards but the pillows didn't let you move too far from him. You could feel that ache again... the closer he got, the more he spoke.

"I mean it, I am being serious." He stated, lifting his hand again to graze the backs of his fingers down your cheek. This time you let him. "You do not wish for your father to marry you off to that stuffy idiot." He whispered, shifting closer. "Well, neither do I." His tone had darkened a little on that, taking on an almost possessive quality that made your heart somersault. "I presume you are a maiden." It tended to be something of a good bargaining chip for arranging unions between houses, after all.

Daemon's touch travelled slowly down your cheek towards your jaw and he eventually curled his long fingers under your chin, his thumb brushing your lower lip. "Give yourself to me," he repeated. "And I will deflower you and make it known... the marriage will be over before it is even begun." He knew this particular lord well and he knew he would not want a wife who had been sullied.

You stared at him in stunned silence for a long moment, trying to ignore the tightening in your belly and the racing of your heart at his proximity and his words. "To what end?" You asked in a helpless little whisper. "I would not have to marry this lord, no, but then what? I will surely be...-" Unwanted by most, seen as ruined perhaps, used. And gods the fury of your father when he found out...

As much as you desired him you did not want to be just one of Daemon's conquests, especially when it would leave you ostracised with no options while he continued to swan around doing whatever he wanted with no consequences. Oh, to be a man, you thought bitterly.

However, you did not get to finish your thought as Daemon interrupted, with a frustrated little frown on his face as if he'd expected you to piece that together on your own. "You would marry me."

A silence followed in which the two of you simply stared at each other. You were stunned. Did he mean that or was he being annoying? Despite the frustration on his face, which was also kind of born from his lust, you got the feeling he wasn't making fun of you. Not this time.

"What?"

"I said you would marry me, Hightower girl, are you deaf?"

A small scowl appeared on your face at his response and you pulled your face from his grasp. No, you were not deaf, but it was a bit of a bloody shocking thing for him to say, wasn't it?

"I have a name you know, you arrogant-!" You cut yourself off before you could say something too terrible but the irritation remained on your face. He had never in all the years you'd known him told you off for not using a title with him, yet he had also never called you by your own name from what you could recall. No doubt he had probably long forgotten it!

Daemon smirked at the sudden rise of fire in you. You had been off for most of the day due to wallowing in your misery and fighting with you had not felt quite as satisfactory as it usually did.

"There she is." He muttered, reaching for your face again. This time he took it with both hands like he had in the Godswood and he stared directly into your eyes, amusement shining on his face as he said your name.

Something about it falling from his lips, the way his mouth moved as he spoke it, coupled with the slowly growing desire in his eyes made you cave. Something flickered in your eyes. Daemon saw it and he immediately took it as a yes and leaned in. You did not object, tilting your head slightly once his mouth came down on yours, kissing him deeply.

A moment later his hands left your face and he was tugging at you to get you to lie back down. You shifted, still reeling slightly, and lay down again in the bed. Your heart was racing. You should not be doing this.

Any further thought was momentarily ceased as Daemon slid over top of you, hovering for a few seconds as his eyes seemed to take in as much as they could of you through the dark. "You are beautiful." He mumbled, so quiet that you thought he'd probably said it accidentally. His mouth immediately descending upon your own to prevent any response strengthened this thought.

You kissed him back right away, not in the state of mind to fully think on it anyway. Your desire was rising and the ache that had kept you awake was growing once more.

You made a small sound into his mouth which made Daemon press his body down against yours a little. The contact just made you feel hotter.

His hand slowly moved up to the neckline of your nightgown and this time you did not try to stop him. You let his fingers tug at the little ties, feeling it loosen with each one he pulled free. Your heart was now hammering so hard in your chest that you wondered how you had not passed out.

This is wrong, your mind was screaming.

But if it was wrong... then why did it feel so right?

Your thoughts ceased again when Daemon's fingers touched the bare skin of your right breast, having gotten the laces at the bust undone while you were kissing. You made a sound into his mouth and then he broke the kiss, pulling back so he could look down at you, wanting to see you properly.

The light in the room was dim but his eyes were keen enough and he groaned at the sight of you, gently pulling the rest of the fabric aside.

Again, Daemon continued to surprise you. Earlier, in the Godswood you remembered expecting his kiss or his movements to be rough and demanding yet it had been soft and gentle. In bed, you had imagined (yes, shamefully, you had imagined) Daemon ripping clothes off impatiently and taking what he wanted, yet he was taking his time undressing you and he was looking at you like you were something special, not just a body he wanted to use.

There was a funny, fluttery feeling in your stomach that you ignored as Daemon's eyes met yours again. He just held your gaze for a few seconds and then his lips were on yours once more. While his tongue explored your mouth, his fingers roamed your breasts - pinching, rubbing, tweaking, caressing - until you were squirming and whining.

You felt the beginnings of one of his trademark smirks and he broke the kiss with a chuckle, pulling back and looking down at you with amused eyes. Before you could complain about his teasing, a hand reached down and began to pull the skirt of your nightdress higher up your legs.

Briefly, you tensed. You tried to hide it but Daemon, who had been watching you very closely, immediately stopped his hand.

"Tell me to stop..." He said quietly. "And I will."

You could have. You could have told him to stop. You could have pushed him off. You could have told him to get out of your room. You could have stopped this whole insane plan right there and then.

But you didn't.

Because you wanted him.

You shook your head and Daemon raised an eyebrow, still not moving. He needed more than that.

You wriggled in frustration. "Please." You muttered, a little embarrassed to seem like you were begging for it, but Daemon did not mock you. His gaze seemed to darken with desire and his fingers clawed at the fabric once more, pulling it all the way up your thighs, wanting access to you. He might not seem it but he was growing impatient. He could feel the proof of it straining against his breeches, practically screaming to be let out.

But he would not be selfish and greedy. Not tonight. Not with you.

His fingers reached your most forbidden area and your mind immediately went blank once more, a gasp catching in your throat as he began to touch you there. His eyes did not leave your face once, wanting to see every little expression of pleasure that passed across it.

Daemon let out a groan when his fingers slid up and down your centre, feeling how wet you already were for him. He could scarcely believe his luck, it took everything not to just hold you down and finally make you his.

It was all he had been thinking about for months, probably even longer. Every whore he'd fucked to try and banish the thought of you from his mind had only succeeded in lodging you deeper into his heart.

He circled your clit a few times, drinking in the way you writhed at the sensation and then he slipped a finger inside of you. Your breath caught in your throat and he felt you tense slightly once more, an involuntary reaction. He'd felt such a reaction many times before. This was not his first deflowering.

"Shh.." He soothed, leaning in to press soft kisses to your cheek and jaw. "Shh... relax."

Daemon began to move his finger slowly, to allow you to become accustomed to the feeling. He felt you relaxing in response to his kisses and his gentle movements and soon it felt nice and you were making those sweet little sounds once more. He swiped his thumb over your clit again and then inserted a second finger, moving them both in and out with a gentle rhythm.

His lips came back to yours and he stayed like this for a little while, tongue exploring your mouth while his fingers worked you, slowly increasing speed. Your body felt hot, you were shaking and moaning... and Daemon was growing more and more turned on.

When he finally drove you to climax, he could take no more and he grunted, pulling his mouth from yours and leaning back to watch you come undone on his fingers. You were almost dizzy from the stars he'd just made you see but your eyes reopened as you felt him move away, whimpering slightly as his fingers left your heat.

You heard the sound of his belt being unbuckled and your heart started to race.

His fingers were starting to becoming impatient as he freed himself of his bothersome clothing and then moved himself back on top of you. When he kissed you this time, you felt something pressing up against you that was certainly not his hand. You shuddered and moaned into his mouth.

Daemon's lips left yours and began to trail down your jaw to your neck. He let them linger there, kissing and licking your skin as his hand moved back down your body, caressing your breasts and familiarising himself with the shape of you. He gently nudged your legs apart with his knee, trying not to rush too much because the last thing he wanted to do was go too fast and ruin the experience for you, but he wanted you to badly by this point it was almost painful.

Your body was on fire and your mind was focused on nothing but him, him, him. If there had been any lingering doubts anywhere inside of you, there wasn't any longer. You wanted this. You craved it. You had craved it for a long time, though you had not fully let yourself think it.

Daemon's hand took hold of his length and he gave himself a lazy stroke as his teeth gently grazed against your neck. The scent of you and the way you were responding to him was driving him absolutely mad. He wanted nothing more than to be inside of you. For you to finally be his.

He guided himself to your cunt and began to slide himself through your wetness, not quite pressing in yet, teasing you over and over as he got you used to the feeling of him.

You whimpered desperately.

Daemon groaned, his breath hot against your neck. "Gods, I want you." He muttered. He was frustrated, almost guilty, that he had not the patience to spend more time on your body. He wanted to taste you, but he told himself next time.

"Please..." You whispered, once more practically begging him. The feeling of his cock gliding through your slick was too much, you needed more, you needed to feel him. "Please." You said again, in a whine that caused Daemon to groan again in response.

He pulled his head back and looked down at you. "Say you want me."

"I want you." The words fell from your lips easily. They were true. They had always been true.

"I want you too." He whispered, leaning back in to kiss you one more time before he pulled away again and then shifted slightly. He kept eye contact with you the whole time as he began to press himself into you, your arousal making it so easy for him to slide himself into your heat.

Gods, the slick between your thighs made you feel like such a wanton little thing. He almost growled.

Another few seconds and he was buried inside you. He gave a deep moan as he pressed his face back into your neck, dizzy on the feeling. He wasn't so far gone that he didn't feel the tension rise in you once more though and he leaned back up, his lips pressing gentle kisses to your face and jaw again.

"Shh..." He soothed once more as he heard your breath catch in your throat when he shifted his body. He had gotten you ready for him and been as gentle as he could but he knew you were hiding the fact it still hurt a little.

"Look at me." He murmured, pressing a kiss to your lips and then looking down at your face. "Good girl." He purred when your eyes met his, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. The praise awoke something inside you and you made a soft sound. He smirked slightly, having felt the fluttering of your walls around him. "Mhm. You liked that." Daemon teased.

If your face was not scarlet before, it was when he said that. Still, all panic had left your body as you were now just focused on the pleasure of the moment. When Daemon tested the waters by shifting his hips a little bit, a soft moan left you and he could tell it was feeling better for you. So he moved again. Then again. And again.

Soon, he had built up a steady pace, thrusting in and out of you. The room filled with lewd sounds and you could do nothing but revel in it. The burn had faded and now each thrust of his hips gave you a jolt of pleasure. Daemon was good at this. You supposed it was to be expected with all the experience it sounded like he had.

He wanted to last. He really did. But he had wanted you for so long and he felt like he was about to burst with each little sound that left you, each little wriggle you made underneath him, each time your nails gently bit into his arms as you clung to him.

His movements began to get quicker and you whined as he rubbed repeatedly against a certain spot inside of you. He grunted hard as he realised the reaction you were having. Daemon, however, was slightly unhappy with something. You were not reaching release quick enough and he was worried, with the way things were going, that he would before you did. He would be damned if he left you unsatisfied.

He moved his hand back down between your bodies and found your clit again, circling the little bud with skillful fingers. It was not long after that you were trembling and then shattering as he pushed you over the edge once more.

The sounds that your release pulled from you were so hot that he pretty much fell apart there and then. He groaned helplessly and buried his face back into your neck, breathing heavily as he moved his hips a few more times, his movements becoming a little less controlled as he felt himself nearing completion. With a harsh moan, Daemon then spilled himself inside of you and collapsed on top of you.

For a few minutes, the room was filled with nothing but heavy breathing as the two of you lay there like that, tangled together, all hot and sticky. You felt utterly boneless. Your eyes were shut and your breathing was ragged, your heart racing, your body limp beneath his weight.

It was perfect.

He was perfect.

"I will speak... to my brother to... tomorrow." Daemon muttered against your neck, slowly coming back to himself. Even if Otto held any reservations after what happened, Viserys would no doubt smooth them over somehow and convince him that you marrying Daemon was the best (and only) option to come out of this.

You could only hum in response, delighting in the kisses he began once more pressing against your skin. You felt warm and content and when he eventually moved and rolled off you, you couldn't hold in a sound of disappointment. Immediately you felt embarrassed but Daemon's arms coming around you and pulling you to him distracted you from it.

Opening your eyes, you blinked at him. "You can't stay."

"We are to be married." He said simply, a small smirk on his face. "I have taken you. Everyone will find out anyway." He reminded you. That was the plan after all.

"Yes, but..." Your cheeks felt hot but hopefully he would think you were just still coming down from the high because you partly were. The idea of being caught with a man (Daemon Targaryen of all people) in your bed was too scandalous. A step outside your comfort zone. "...you..."

"I will go, do not worry." Daemon purred in your ear, flicking his tongue out lightly over the outer edge, smirking as he felt you shiver. "I only want to hold you until you fall asleep. Does that not sound nice? Hm?" He did not say that he simply could not stomach the thought of just rolling out of bed and leaving you lying here all by yourself after your very first time. He did not want to leave you alone in the dark.

You sighed, acting bothered, but it did sound very nice and you were already so comfortable. He was very warm... so you were quick to relent. "Fine. But as soon as I am asleep..." Your voice held as much warning as you could muster.

Daemon chuckled softly, nodding as he adjusted slightly, getting more comfortable in the bed and pulling you up tighter against his body. "Yes, my lady." He said it as if you had given a command and he liked the way his teasing tone made you giggle.

It did not take you long to fall asleep. Indeed, you were so exhausted, you were out in a few minutes.

Unfortunately, Daemon was also so exhausted that he fell asleep mere moments after you did.

When Alicent entered your chambers the next morning, she got quite a shock... and quite an eyeful, as Daemon had kicked himself out of the covers at some point during the night, giving the poor girl an unfortunate glimpse of his backside that did not leave her memory for the rest of her days.

Her shriek was what caused your father to come running into the room. You were not sure you had ever seen Otto quite so angry in your whole life. After the initial shock wore off, you thought he might actually be so angry he would lay hands upon the prince but he managed to somehow hold himself back.

The look of disappointment was clear as your father turned his gaze on you but Daemon, now standing, shifted in front of you the second he saw it and blocked Otto's view.

If anyone would take Otto Hightower's anger, it would be him.

"What's say you and I go and have a talk with my brother, hm?" Daemon muttered, his eyes narrowed.

Otto stared at him with barely concealed rage. The last thing he wanted was his child linked to a man like Daemon Targaryen. He had been a thorn in his side for years. And now he had... defiled one of his daughters! He tried to look at you again but Daemon cleared his throat.

Otto glared at the prince. "You may wish to put on some clothes first." Was all he said before turning and sweeping from the room, dragging Alicent out by her elbow, letting the door slam behind them.

You would have burst into tears if you were not so shocked. You watched Daemon turn to pull his clothes back on. When he looked up at you, he was smirking.

"It's not funny!" You exclaimed.

"Oh, come on." He teased, sitting down on the bed and leaning closer. "It is a little bit funny."

You turned your head so he couldn't kiss you, frowning. You had never felt so embarrassed and ashamed in your whole life. Though it would have come out anyway when Daemon told his brother and you confirmed but to have been walked in on by your father and sister was another thing entirely!

Daemon sighed, lifting a hand to your chin and gently turning your face back towards him. "I'm sorry."

"You said you would leave!"

Daemon blinked, feeling a little bit guilty because he could see this actually had been difficult for you. "I did not do it on purpose, I fell asleep!"

You scoffed. "Right."

"Hey. I mean it." He said and he looked and sounded so serious that you did believe him.

There was a brief silence and then Daemon smirked again.

"What?" You asked, half snapping at him.

Your tone did nothing to rid him of his smile, the smirk turning into a bit of a grin. "When I return," he said as he leaned in again. "You and I will be betrothed."

You could not stop your face from breaking into a smile of your own. "You seem very confident in that fact." After what he'd just walked in on, you were pretty sure your father would be vehemently against this, perhaps simply out of spite and anger.

"Don't you know by now, Hightower girl?" Daemon's eyes glinted with mischief as he closed the distance and kissed your lips once more. When you parted, he was smirking again. "I always get what I want."

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen fanfic #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd x reader #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon x you #daemon targaryen x you #house of the dragon x you #hotd fanfic

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starkeysprincess · 21 days

Text

VENICE FILM FESTIVAL

pairing: drew starkey x reader warnings: oral (m receiving), praising, daddy kink, unprotected sex, creampie, 18+ mdni word count: 723 summary: you attend the Venice film festival & the premiere of Queer with your boyfriend, ending the night by showing him how proud you are.

a/n: wrote this for self-indulgence cause i couldn't stop thinking abt it aksjdk

you and drew arrived back at the hotel after the premiere of his latest project, Queer. you were undeniably proud of him and how far he’s come, watching his career grow since the beginning.

his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him, “i’m glad you’re here with me, baby, i wouldn’t want anyone else by my side but you”.

you threw your arms over his shoulders, playing with the grown-out hairs at the nape of his neck, “you know I’ll support you every step of the way”.

drew couldn’t contain the grin that threatened to appear, “my little cheerleader, huh?”. his hand cupped your face, thumb soothingly brushing your cheek as he lowered his head, his lips finding yours.

“i’m so proud of you, you know that?” you mutter against his lips, “i know, you’ve been sayin’ it all night” he teased, the back of his legs hitting the edge of the mattress with each step you took, “because you’ve worked so hard for this”.

drew’s fingers find the zipper of your dress, slowly unzipping it and letting your dress pool onto the floor. your lips make their way down his neck, nipping bruises into his flesh as your hands moving to unbutton his shirt with your nimble fingers, and brushing it off his shoulders.

drew is taken back when you shove him onto the bed, your fingers popping the button of his slacks before moving onto the zipper, “baby, what are you doing?”.

“shh, tonight is all about you, daddy” you pull his boxers down to his thighs, his cock twitching at your words as your small, soft hand wraps around his length, giving him slow and steady strokes.

your tongue swirls around his thick head. your lips envelope around him, sucking softly.

“shit…” he groans, your pussy throbs at the sounds you’re pulling from him. you push your head down further to take more of his length into your mouth, gagging lightly as his tip kisses the back of your throat.

drew’s large hand threads through your hair, tugging at the roots as you bob your head, “look so pretty with my cock stuffed in your mouth”.

you hum around him, his head lolling back from the vibrations your mouth made. you bobbed your head faster, his length sliding in and out of your mouth as his hips bucked upwards, “shit baby, i need to be inside you”.

you pull your mouth off him with a wet ‘pop’, pulling your panties off and discarding it onto the floor.

you threw your leg over his hip, straddling him before reaching between your bodies to wrap your hand around him, guiding the fat tip to your aching cunt, your walls stretching around his thick base as you sunk down onto him.

your hips rolled against his, setting a slow and steady pace, “fuck baby, go faster…please” drew pleaded, his hands gripping your hips harshly. your palms laid flat on his muscular chest, giving you leverage as you start to bounce yourself up and down his cock.

drew’s hands moved down to squeeze your ass cheeks as your hips continued to snap against his with each downward thrust, “makin’ daddy feel so good, baby” he groans.

a soft moan escapes you when drew leans his head forward, flicking your hardened nipple with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth as he pinches and rolls your left nipple between his fingers.

drew pulls away, looking up at you with heavy-lidded eyes, “you’re so fuckin’ beautiful”.

you smile, dipping your head down to kiss and suck at his bottom lip. your lips littered kisses down to the column of his neck. you know he’s close when his moans start to become short and breathless, “gonna cum for me, daddy?”.

drew moans, his nails digging into your skin, “yes…fuck, wanna fill your pretty cunt…please”.

his pleas had your pussy clenching, encouraging you to pick up your pace, your hips slamming against his the faster you move up and down. “oh fuck…” drew curses, his dick twitching as his jaw slacks, eyes rolling back as he cums deep inside you.

“god, i love you” he mutters, lips curling into a soft smile.

tagging: @oceandriveab @babygorewhore @xxbimbobunnyxx @sturnioloshacker @cameronsprincess @drewstarkeys-world @shawtycoreee @rafesthroatbaby @rafeyscurtainbangs @nemesyaaa @hallecarey1 @heartsforvin @kisses4angel @starkeyisthelastname @hyperfixationgirl @emilysuperswag @flvredcas @rafeinterlude @rafecameroninterlude @starkeysheart @fae-of-prey @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @spid6y @chimindity @starkeysbebe @spacexdrago @honeybunniesoobin @wearemadeofstardust0 @blckbrrybasket @fallrafwe @sturnskiss

#𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓀𝓈 ༉‧₊˚.#drew starkey smut #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey obx #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x you #drew starkey drabble #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey queer #drew starkey outer banks

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httpsdrewstarkey · 22 days

Text

Missing You || Drew Starkey

authors note: leaving my gorgeous gorgeous girls some smut before i’m off to work. i didn’t want to end it so abruptly but i have to get ready, so im promising a part 2 when i get home 🥰 not proofread but will fix later. also i have no idea what to name this story, im rushing 😅

warnings: smut, hair pulling

The warmth of the bathwater and the soft bubbles cradled Y/N as she leaned back against Drew, her body instinctively molding to fit the curve of his chest. The flickering candlelight bathed the room in a golden glow, casting a soft shadow on the walls. It was a perfect kind of stillness, the kind that made the world outside feel miles away.

“How was Venice?” Y/N asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Her fingers traced along Drew’s forearm, feeling the strength in his muscles, the reassuring steadiness of him. She didn’t need to see his face to know he was smiling; she could feel it in the way his breath tickled the back of her neck.

“It was beautiful,” Drew replied, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate through her entire body. “The city is amazing, it’s like stepping into a different world. But” he paused, his hand sliding gently up her arm, “no matter how incredible it was, I couldn’t stop thinking about being here. With you.”

Her heart swelled at his words, a soft smile tugging at her lips. She let her eyes drift shut, allowing herself to get lost in the comfort of his embrace. The mention of Venice reminding her of all the images she saw of him.

“I saw the pictures of you in Venice,” Y/N murmured after a moment, her fingers continuing their lazy circles on his arm. There was something more in her voice, a quiet appreciation she couldn’t quite mask. “You looked so handsome in those long yellow trousers and that white shirt. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

Drew laughed, the sound vibrating against her back and sending a pleasant shiver down her spine. “You liked that outfit, huh?” A playful sound to his voice.

“I did,” she admitted softly. “It made me miss you even more.” She felt his arms tighten around her, pulling her closer, as if he could close the distance that had been between them, the miles and days that had felt so long.

Needing to see him, Y/N slowly turned in the tub, the water sloshing gently as she moved to face Drew. His hands immediately found her hips, his fingers pressing into her skin with a tenderness that made her heart flutter. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself closer, until she could feel his breath on her lips.

“I’m also loving the ‘stache you’ve got going on,” she teased, her tone light but with a hint of something more. Her eyes roamed over his face, taking in the way his hair had started to grow out, the mustache, the hint of a five o’clock shadow. The sight of him like this, relaxed and slightly rugged, sent a thrill through her that she could feel deep in her stomach.

Drew laughed softly, the sound rich and warm, “Thank you, baby,” he murmured, his voice filled with affection. He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing gently over her cheeks as he leaned in to kiss her. It was a slow, lingering kiss, one that spoke of everything they’d missed while they were apart.

His hands drifted down her back, tracing her spine, mapping out every curve. Eventually, his hands settled on her butt, giving it a playful squeeze that made her smile against his lips. The warmth between them, both emotional and physical, made her feel safe, cherished, and completely his.

She pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, her fingers weaving into the hair at the nape of his neck. “You’re making it really hard to stay mad at you for being gone so long,” she whispered, though there was no anger in her voice, only a playful one.

Drew’s grip on her hair tightened slightly, his eyes darkening “Maybe you should show me how much you missed me,” he murmured, his voice a rough whisper that sent a shiver down her spine.

Y/N felt a rush of heat, a wave of butterflies taking flight in her stomach. The weight of his words, the closeness of their bodies pressed together in the warm, soapy water, was almost too much to bear. She could feel his heartbeat against hers, the heat of his skin beneath the water.

Without hesitation, she leaned in, kissing him and it was anything but gentle. It was fierce, urgent, a desperate need to show him exactly how much she had missed him. Drew responded, his hands sliding down her back, gripping her firmly, pulling her so close that she could hardly tell where she ended, and he began.

The sensation of their wet skin sliding against each other, his tight grip on her hair, it all sent waves of excitement coursing through her. It was intoxicating, the way he made her feel as if the rest of the world had ceased to exist and there was only them, only this moment.

Drew’s lips traveled from her mouth to her jaw, each kiss deliberate and slow, as if he was savoring every inch of her skin. The warmth of his breath made her shiver, never wanting him to stop. When he reached her neck, she tilted her head to the side, offering more access for him, the anticipation building with each second. Her breathing hitched, a soft moan threatening to escape her lips, but she held it back, biting down on the inside of her cheek.

Drew paused as he pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting hers. His hands, which had been resting on her hips, slid up her body, fingers trailing along her sides until they reached her neck. With a slow motion, he wrapped his hand around her throat, applying just enough pressure to make her moan loudly, her eyes rolling back.

“I want to hear you, baby,” Drew murmured, his voice low as his eyes watched her, every detail, every curve of her body by the soapy water that clung to her skin, giving her a radiant, almost ethereal glow. The sight of her like this, vulnerable and beautiful, made his cock throb with need, the aching desire to feel her.

He cupped the side of her face, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip making her moan again, her eyes locking onto his with a mix of anticipation and longing.

Drew leaned in, his lips grazing her ear as he whispered, “You’ll be a good girl for me?”

His words almost made her cum right there, his commanding tone stirring something deep inside her. She nodded, unable to find her voice, her body already responding to him in ways she couldn’t control. The warmth of his breath against her skin, combined with the roughness of his thumb on her lip, made her pulse quicken.

Drew’s hand reached her lower abdomen, his fingers lingering there for a moment, tracing slow, deliberate circles into her clit. She let out a soft moan, her body pushing up against him, as her head dropped into his shoulder. Drew smiled against her ear, “That’s it,” he whispered, his fingers applying more pressure, sending a jolt of electricity through her. “Let me hear you, baby. I want to know how much you’ve missed me.”

Her hands gripping his shoulders for support as he added a finger, “Oh my god,” she moaned, her voice trembling as he slowly moved his finger in and out, keeping his thumb on her clit.

“I’m gonna come,” she whispered, her voice barely audible as her body began to tremble uncontrollably, moving her hips to feel more of him. The intensity of the moment consumed her, clinging to Drew’s neck for support, her fingers tangling in his hair as she held on tight.

“That’s it, let go for me,” he urged softly, his voice in a low whisper against her ear.

With one final push, the overwhelming wave of pleasure crashed over her, her body shuddering violently as she finally released, a soft cry leaving her lips. Every muscle in her body tensed up, burring her head back into his neck, the relief and sensation washing over her.

“Stand up for me and go stand in front of the mirror,” Drew said, his voice low and commanding. Y/N, still breathing heavily from her release, slowly rose from the bath. The soapy water cascaded down her body, droplets catching the light and creating a glistening trail that highlighted every curve. Drew watched with a mix of awe and desire, his eyes tracing the path of water as it slid over her skin.

As she moved toward the mirror, Drew couldn't help but admire her. She was beautiful, every curve and dip of her body accentuated by the soft glow of the bathroom light. The sight of her, so vulnerable and radiant, made him grow harder.

Drew followed closely behind, his breath hot against her neck as he approached. His hands slid down to her ass, squeezing roughly, “My good girl,” he whispered, his voice a deep rumble of satisfaction.

Drew’s grip tightened on her hips as he moved behind her, his hands making their way to her hair, pulling her hair into a makeshift pony, her head back, forcing her to look up at herself in the mirror. His breath was warm against her ear as he spoke, “I want you to watch yourself.”

The command in his voice made Y/N’s pulse race, her heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and vulnerability. She swallowed hard, her eyes meeting her own reflection as she felt his gaze on her. Y/N nodded, her throat dry with nervous excitement.

Drew’s grip softened slightly as he whispered, “Relax, honey. I’ll always take care of you.”

#drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey prompt #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron x reader #outerbanks rafe

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meo-eiru · 2 months

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heyy!! here I am with some more thoughts, this time about Elias.

honestly, for some reason, he seems like a very lonely person to me. you mentioned his will to change himself (and go to extreme lengths in that); also his almost paranoid fear of darling leaving him, (delete all of your contacts except for him, etc) – usually such level of jealousy is a sign of very low self-esteem. dunno if it's true, I just had a feeling that he's super insecure deep down. (he's afraid to look bad in our eyes, remember? to an unhealthy extent.)

and he's so empty. so beautiful on the outside, but so so empty. he loves you, he exists for you, isn't that enough? it isn't. you can't feel genuine affection for someone just because they look good. and Elias knows that! he's actually self conscious (unlike some elf with big tatas), but he can't offer you anything else, which must make him feel even more insecure, because deep down he knows that he won't be able to keep you by his side forever.

actually that will of his to go to extreme lengths for us is pretty frightening. how toxic it can be? depends on the darling! because if you are a normal person, you'd be patient with him, change him, and have a happy ever after and all those boring things. but what if Elias happens to fall in love with an unreasonable and possessive monster?

I feel like he'd go very well with a darling who's yandere for him too. and a stereotypical one at that, who'd want to keep him by their side like a pretty doll. get it? not a life partner, not even a human. a doll, a pretty thing to take care of. they would choose pretty clothes for him, brush his hair, but at the end of the day, he's nothing more but a pretty thing, an object.

I really like the doll metaphor for Elias. (I'm a huge doll lover, I ever have one of that super expensive bjd) dolls are beautiful, but aren't alive. they can't be someone you'd open your heart to; under their shiny porcelain skin, they're hollow.

unlike Silas, Elias is a more tragic character in my eyes. he's willing to carve his bones to whatever shape you desire, because if he isn't validated and noticed by you, he has no value. and you (if you are a normal person) will grow tired and bored of him, sooner or later. he wants to be loved, when there's pretty much nothing to love in him.

unlike Silas, his love can ruin only himself.

(I swear it's not like I want to see him suffer in particular. I'm open to all kinds of despair, pain and sadness, whether it yan's or darling's!)

(also I tried to find his colour scheme, but all I found was you mention his hair, so it's just how I think he looks like.)

DHDKDHDKYS NOT ONLY IS YOUR ANALYZES AMAZING YOU ALSO DREW ELIAS??? AND HOW DID YOU GET HIS COLOR SCHEME SO RIGHT???

I love you thank you god I love asks like yours.

You’re very on point, Elias is like a pretty doll. Beautiful on the outside but completely empty inside, and that beauty is the only thing that gives him any kind of worth. He’s aware of this more than anyone.

He’s not rich, he doesn’t have an amazingly successful career, no hobbies, no specialities, no interests. He’s extremely pathetic and all he can do is pitifully attempt to pull you down to his level.

That’s why committing self harm comes so easily to him even if he doesn’t yearn for it. Endangering himself, his only value, his body, is the only way he can keep you with him. He doesn’t have any power over you he can use against you. He only has this disgustingly and pathetically beautiful body.

He wants to be loved by you, he wants you to be obsessed with him as much as he is with you, but deep down he knows he doesn’t have any qualities that could deserve such love. That is why he leans into his appearance so hard, since the moment he was born that face of his was the only thing that gave him any sort of value.

If you find any part of him ugly he’ll have no choice but to try to fix it even if it completely ruins him. Because he thinks that’s the only way for him to keep your eyes on him. He’s just through and through pathetic. Extremely pitiful.

He would indeed roll well with a yandere reader who treats him like a living doll. Because Elias wants to be values by you, even if it means getting stripped of the little sense of identity he had. He wants you to keep your eyes on him and see him as an object who exists for your satisfaction. Because at the end of the day that is what he is. An empty shell who was unfortunate enough to be born with the ability to love.

Elias’ existence can’t handle his own love. He’ll start breaking from inside out like a doll under pressure. That’s why he needs your reassurance, he needs you to reaffirm his worth. He can’t exist for himself so he needs to exist for you. He might be a beautiful shell of a human but he too can have some sort of value if he’s being used like a tool by you.

But watching you also makes him feel extremely jealous and frustrated. Because you have everything he doesn’t have. You have hobbies, things you enjoy, things you do for yourself, people who stay with you not for your outer shell but for who you are inside. Everything Elias never had and never will.

That’s why he tries so hard to ruin your relationships and threaten you to stay with him, to keep you at his level like a pathetic bug. Because you’re not like him. You can abandon him any day of the week and continue your life like you lost nothing, but Elias isn’t like that. If he loses you he truly will have nothing left.

So please love him, ruin him, break him, treat him right, use him, make him feel alive, give him some sort of value. Please be kind to Elias. He needs you more than anyone on this world

#asks #Elias #yandere pretty boyfriend #yandere pretty boyfriend x reader #yandere x reader #male yandere

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leclerc-hs · 2 months

Note

Jealous sex with Charles 🤩

smut under the cut! xoxo

YOUR FRIEND’S APARTMENT buzzed with a lively energy as guests mingled under a soft, warm glow of string lights draped across the ceiling. The space, modest but cozy, was transformed into a hub of festivity. The mix of eclectic décor added character: vintage posters hung askew on the walls, and potted plants created pockets of greenery that contrasted the otherwise urban feel.

You were a few drinks in—the buzz of the alcohol you consumed staining your cheeks with a slight reddish hue. Your earlier fight with Charles’ still sat in the forefront of your mind, leading you to keep drinking.

It was a rather toxic relationship. A game of cat and mouse. Both of you never wanting to confess your true feelings for one another. It was childish honestly, the way neither of you refused to just be together.

“Why does it even matter if he texted me?”

His eyes were cold as he looked at you, his biceps flexed as his arms cross over his chest. “It’s whatever. Go try and fuck the entire town for all I care!”

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

Charles stood across the room, the throb of the bass vibrating through his chest, but it was not the music that had him fixated. His gaze was locked onto you, and the intensity of his stare betrayed a growing, seething fury. The makeshift dancefloor seemed to blur as his attention narrowed solely on the scene unfolding before him.

An ex-fling of yours—one who had always carried an air of easy charm—had just sidled up to you. His presence was impossible to ignore, a magnetic pull that drew your attention away from the crowd. With a casual confidence, he leaned in close, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. The proximity was intimate, almost invasive, and Charles could see the way his breath seemed to linger a moment too long, his intent as clear as day even from a distance.

Charles’s jaw clenched as he watched, his hands tightening on the neck of the glass beer bottle in his hand. Though the words spoken were lost to the pounding music, the effect was immediate. You laughed—a spontaneous, genuine burst of amusement that seemed to resonate across the room. The sound of your laughter, bright and carefree, was like a dagger to Charles.

It wasn’t until Charles saw you slip out of the room that he found his feet moving almost immediately, following you.

“Having fun?”

You lazily turned to the sound of his voice, your hair in complete disarray from all the dancing you’ve done tonight. It wasn’t until now that you let yourself really look at him.

He looked fucking hot. But so did you.

Your lips curled into a small smirk. “Yeah, think I’m going to head out soon. Got a big list of people to go and fuck. Tight schedule and all that.”

Charles felt his cock thicken against the thick material of his jeans. You always had a dirty mouth. Always so vulgar. It was one of the many things Charles loved about you.

You watched as Charles’ right eye slightly twitched at the mere mention of you going and fucking other people. The normal green of his eyes was no longer there, an almost black color there instead.

“Let me be clear, cherie.” He takes a step towards you, your eyes dropping down to his glistening chest that pokes through the many undone buttons of his linen shirt. “You’re only fucking me.”

“You’re so funny.” Charles mutters as he shoves your face into the plush mattress of his bed, your dress and underwear thrown somewhere along the confines of his room. “Thinking anybody else could take care of this needy pussy, hm?”

His cock slipped into you with ease, the stretching burn eliciting loud moans to escape your lips.

“That’s it…” He let out a guttural moan, pushing his hips as far into you as he could. In dire need of closeness. “Let me hear how I make you feel.”

You gasped, if your cheeks were slightly red before they were burning red now.

He gives you no warning before he’s scooping his arm under your stomach, lifting you from the mattress and flipping you onto your back. You fall to the mattress with a slight bounce and a small shriek. He wastes no time slipping his cock back into you, his thrusts harsh and calculated.

“I hate you.” You say in between harsh breaths as Charles leans over you, his weight all being held by his arms at the sides of your head.

“Yeah?” He laughs. “What else, hm?”

He can’t help but feel his cock grow harder inside of you at the bite of your tone.

“You’re insufferable…” You begin, moans escaping in between each word. “So mean to me…”

“And you never apologize.”

Small tears stream down the sides of your face as his hips pick up the pace in between each angry statement of yours. As if it was egging him on.

“Yeah, well you’re mine.”

Your pussy clenches tightly around his cock at the phrase. “I’m so mad at you.”

“Yeah? Tell me how mad you are baby.”

He’s practically panting in your ear as your nails scrape along the thick muscles of his back, the pleasure building in your stomach, almost ready to spill.

You latch your legs behind his back, pressing the heels of your feet into him, shoving him deeper into you.

“Fuck you.”

And that’s all the encouragement he needs before he’s shoving his entire cock inside of you, completely bottoming out with each harsh stroke. You were completely dazed as he lets out an occasional laugh. Almost mocking you.

“Faster—ah shit…” You plead, your hands trailing any inch of his skin you can touch.

His lips meet yours hotly. It’s a clash of tongue and teeth, and nowhere near perfect. Both of you are groaning into each other’s mouths hotly, tongues meeting tongues.

“M’ gonna come,” You moan into his mouth, his hips not slowing down. He pulls his lips off of yours for a few seconds, soft grunts echoing throughout the room.

“Such a good girl, hm?” He smirks. “C’mon give it to me.”

The tight squeeze of your cunt on his cock was almost mind numbing to Charles. You let out soft mewls as you reached your orgasm. Your walls fluttering around him repeatedly.

“You’re so fucking hot.” Are the last words you hear before he pulls out of you, spilling his hot cum all over your stomach in white stringy spurts.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #f1 imagine

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mrsoharaa · 3 months

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Lol imagining waking up in your shared bed, naked and deeply cozy in the over basking warmth and comfort of freshly washed linen and extensive, strong limbs caging you in securely. a small smile perks at the corners of your lips, embracing the welcoming extorting heat resonating from behind you. little huffs of warm breaths fanning across your ear and cheek, soft snoring following behind each breath.

You hum softly, extending and patting out your free hand to the space in front of you, which should have occupied with another lengthy body. your lips quickly swivel into a disappointed frown, heavy eyes slowly peeping open to see nothing but an empty vast space before you.

You grumble to the distraught sight, wasn't your adoring boyfriend Suguru suppose to be there? entrapping you with his radiating, lulling body heat?

You blink rapidly, shuffling away from the adoring embrace of the limbs lacing over you comfortably. a dragged out, gruffed whine following your sudden adjustment, a large palm nestling onto your bare upper right thigh.

Your head stays on the empty space next to you, now gleaming around the open bedroom for the missing body.

"Lookin' for Suguru love?" you can hear the tiredness in Satoru's gruff morning voice, your attention whipping over and down at the pouting snowy haired man laying next to you, his arm pulling around your hips to bring you back to his towering, burly stature. he croons his face deep into your neck, jesting just beneath the juncture of your jaw, inhaling your sweet, intoxicating scent.

"Mm, do you know where he went?" you'd comb through Satoru's messy, mangled bed head, giggling to his silly, childish groans and whines craning out from his throat.

"Said something about getting us breakfast or something from that new cafe you liked so much down the street" Satoru raises his hazy head up and rest it onto your soft shoulder, soaking in the comfort and softness your skin embellished onto his. rubbing his hands up and down the subtlety of your tender flesh, giving it loving, slow chaste kisses.

his lidded cerulean irises glances up at you, carefully studying your breath taking features. noting the rays of the sun peeking through the shades of your windows cascade beautifully against your complexion. hinting out all of the notable and enchanting little details that drew him (and Suguru) to you with much attentive adoration. the soft orange and yellow hues of the awakening sun decorating your flawless beauty. stirring the boundless love and dire affection he had felt for you, only making him fall even harder for you.

a gentle smile seeps into your cheeks, your hand engulfed into the silky thin tresses of frost, slowly trailing down to the flush of his warm cheek. noting that familiar pondering look start to graze his gorgeous features, earning him a low chuckle from you, brushing away the little straying strands from his contorting, pout growing on his face.

"What's wrong Toru'?" your kindred smile stays on your face, listening to his deep grumble bellow against his chest, his brows knitting in a silly manner, matching his ridiculous pout. he kneads in closer into your soften skin.

"...Why do you always look for Suguru in the morning but never me?" he whips with a slouched look, which only insinuates a genuine giggle from you. the look on his face warming your heart and soul, cupping his face with your hand you'd lean down to kiss his forehead, brushing his hair from his face to do so.

"Toru', I only ask because he wasn't in bed..." you tilt your head slightly, watching the puffing grown man roll his eyes.

"And if I wasn't in bed?! would you ask or look for ME?!" he flushes his face onto your side thigh, puffing out heavy breaths and holding onto you tighter. you laugh again, with more joy and amusement gracing your tone.

"Of course you dummy! why wouldn't I?! wait, don't tell me...are you...are you jealous Toru'?" you trace the tip of your finger tip along to the back of his ear, shuffling with the wavy strands of his fluff hair.

"...Of course not! don't be ridiculous, I don't get jealous" he gruffs out, fishing out another chuckle from you.

"That's debatable" the sound of Suguru's silk voice chimes in, the scent of strong coffee, freshly baked bagels and a hint of cinnamon wafts through the air. Invading through your nose, as pure delight throttles all through your body.

"Oh my god, that smells amazing!" you chirp with enlightenment and excitement, the mixed aromas of deliciousness stirring your body fully awake to it's delicious allure.

A humble smile stretches across Suguru's face, walks over towards the bed and carefully hands you the delectable hot coffee and a napkin filled with a warm bagel tucked inside.

"For you, my dear" he leans forward to give you a tender kiss on to your forehead, earning himself a glowing, grateful smile in return from you.

"Ah, Sugu you're the best! what have we done to deserve you?" you kiss his jaw softly, feeling the snug of Satoru's grasp around you tighten, abruptly tugging you closer over to his side of the bed.

"Oh my god, Satoru...really? he brought us breakfast, stop being ridiculous" you roll your eyes, taking a careful sip of your coffee feeling the graze of his plush lips press into the lush of your skin.

Suguru simply tilts his head in concern, but relishes in Satoru's childishness and selfishness with you. scoffing playfully, Suguru pulls out a steamy freshly baked cinnamon bun from around him, holding it out to Satoru as a peace offering.

Satoru's eyes nearly popped out from their sockets, the pure glimmer and joy that swelled in his brighten eyes, filled Suguru's heart with such adoration and amusement.

"...Alright, you have been forgiven Suguru!" Satoru practically licks away the descending drool dripping down the side of his lips, quickly consuming the delectable cinnamon treat within seconds. a satisfied hum purring against his chest, spiking the sheer glee and elation rising in Suguru's chest. a subtle smile homing onto his face.

#can't can't can'tttt for the life of me stop writing about morning things with the three of youuuu! 😭🥺😫#it just gives me the warm fuzziesss #jealous Toruuuu #keep my heart polyamory satosugu x reader 🥺🤲🏼💕💞💗#satosugu x reader #satosugu #gojo satoru #geto suguru #jjk

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lilisettean · 8 months

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Hot Steam | Xavier/Reader

About: What started as a nice soak in the hot springs with Xavier turned into something more...

Pairing: Xavier/Reader

Notes: I don't have the memory Kind Words for Xavier itself so idk what goes on in that scene but the art itself made me go . I need him I need to write him and mc in the hot springs.

AO3: Read here!

Warnings: Age 18+ only please. Enjoy :)

“This was not what I had in mind when you told me to come sit closer.”

You said, doing your best to look him in the eye and not let your eyes wander down further. But he did not extend the same courtesy to you.

“Then what did you have in mind?” Xavier asked as he toyed with the towel that was stubbornly wrapped around your body. He had complained about you sitting too far away from him while in the hot spring beforehand and caught you off guard when you scooted closer, grabbing and lifting you by the waist and then plopping you down onto his lap. While you didn’t mind the closeness of it all, something about being skin to skin and almost naked made you feel… exposed.

It didn’t help that his hand was still on your waist, resting at the small of your back. How easy would it for him to slide his hand down further and slip it under the flimsy towel–

A sudden kiss to your bare shoulder pulled you out of your thoughts. He was staring up at you, his eyes dark and intense. He didn’t care your breasts were pressed against him, the towel shielding your form from him barely holding on.

Or maybe he did care, since you could suddenly feel something poking at your thigh.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked, his expression unchanging despite knowing you could feel his growing problem under you.

“What do you think?” You retorted as calmly as possible. You thought it was impossible to feel yourself grow even hotter, being in a hot spring and all. But you did, his touch planting seeds of desire under your skin. Especially when he hooked his fingers onto the hem of your towel.

You nodded when he looked toward you for permission. And with one smooth motion, the fabric that protected you from the world, from his dark, predatory gaze, fell around you and sunk into the hot spring.

The soft sigh he let out then broke the peaceful silence of the hot spring, his hot breath fanning your exposed breast. Lifting his hand out of the water, he dragged a finger against the round of your right breast, as though committing the sight before him to memory.

“You’re so beautiful.” Xavier breathed out, before pulling you down to a kiss. It felt tender at first, gentle like he was to you. But as seconds ticked by, the kiss grew more intense, headier, with him palming your breast and thumbing over your pert nipple as his other hand drew you closer to him.

And then, you felt it. You gasped as he pulled you flush against his hardness. The soft cotton fabric brushed past your clit and his clothed tip pushed insistently against your entrance. Taking advantage of your surprise, he slipped his tongue past your lips and deepened the kiss, slowly grinding himself up and down your heat.

“I don’t— I don’t think we should do this here.” You said, breathless after parting from his lips. His hands were incredibly distracting, wandering about and teasing you. But that was nothing compared to his hardened cock resting between your folds, throbbing every now and then to remind you of your shared predicament.

“You’re right. Shall we head back inside?”

Before you could climb off his lap however, he slipped an arm under you and lifted you, hauling you up to his shoulder with one arm.

Like a prize won by a successful hunter.

“Wait– I can walk–”

“No.” Xavier said, carrying up and into the room you booked, suddenly glad that you opted for a private hot spring instead. He gently laid you down on the bed before climbing on top of you, his piercing gaze never leaving you once.

“What kind of hunter would I be if I let my prize go?”

#love and deep space #love and deepspace #love and deep space xavier x reader #love and deepspace xavier x reader #the brainrot is hitting #going with xavier first because hes actually the easiest to write when it comes to those memories #zayne's would be way more intense bc mirror and i actually have rafayel's so i have to gather more braincells first #hope i got his character right if not pls tell me

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cressidagrey · 1 month

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Looked to the Sky - Chapter 7

Summary:

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was, however, Azriel‘s mate with her own mysterious, untrained powers.

Also known as: Azriel tries to court his mate the human way.

Warnings:

THIS IS THE LIGHTNING IN A BOTTLE SEQUEL! SO READ THAT FIRST IF YOU WANNA READ THIS ONE OTHERWISE THIS MAKES NO SENSE!

Elain Bashing, Magical Help with Dyslexia, Rhys is a good big brother, Azriel finally is less of an idiot and without @k-godling this would have never happened.

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

"I am supposed to...read all of these?" Eira asked Rhys with a grimace. He had dropped a stack of books in front of her at breakfast the next day...after Azriel and she had...come to an understanding of sorts. After…

She didn’t want to think of it. Not right now. She needed something else…something to take her mind off it. Of all of it.

And Rhys sufficed.

Rhys chuckled, his shoulders shaking with silent amused laughter.

“It's just three books,” he replied with a wide smile. “Magical Primers of sorts. They’ll help you understand how magic works. I recommend starting with the one at the bottom of the pile. That’ll probably be the easiest to digest.”

“How long do I have?” She asked weakly.

“You’ve got a week,” Rhys said, and the horror dawned on her face. A week. She could never read that in a week. Maybe one book. Maybe if she did nothing else and didn't sleep. Maybe then. "Is something wrong?" he asked, his voice growing gentle. "I know it probably is....overwhelming...."

"I can't read that." Eira blurted out.

"You can't read these books or you can't read at all?" Rhys asked her, no judgement in his voice.

"I can read," she assured him weakly. "I just..." she hesitated. "Promise not to laugh?" she asked him, her voice trembling.

The look on Rhys’ face became instantly serious, the gentle look in his gaze became even more gentle as he took in her expression. "Of course I promise," he assured her, and his voice was so sincere, it almost made her feel like crying.

"The letters change positions," she admitted, her voice tiny. "I know it sounds insane, but I swear it's what happens."

Rhys was silent, his expression thoughtful. He didn't call out her insanity or brush her off or call her a liar. He just nodded and asked calmly, "What, exactly, do you mean by that? How exactly do they change positions?"

Her shoulders drew up to her ears, her chin drooping in shame. "They...when I'm looking at a word, the letters move around. Switch places. So that the word I'm looking at isn't always the word I'm reading," she explained.

His expression was still calm, like he wasn't shocked or disgusted or horrified by her admission. But a strange look had come to his face, like something she had just said had...clicked in his mind, like he had just figured something out.

"Have you always had this issue with letters?" he asked quietly.

She bit her lip, her face going red with humiliation. "Yes," she admitted quietly. "It first started happening when I learned to read...some of the letters changed around, and I started saying other words, the wrong words. I...Our Grandmother wasn't...she yelled at me for 'not paying attention'..." Though that was the least she had done. She nearly flinched when she remembered the ruler to the top of her hands.

A muscle ticked in Rhysand's jaw, and for a moment, Eira swore she saw the hint of anger flare on his face. "How old were you?" he asked, almost growling out the words.

"Four," she said quietly, and for a moment, she could have sworn she saw a flash of fury on his face. But it was gone so quickly, she couldn’t be sure.

"So your grandmother punished you for this?" he asked, his voice almost too calm. Like he was holding in some very strong emotions

"Yes," she admitted quietly. "She...she would yell at me and hit me with a ruler. On the fingers." She could still feel that stinging pain, the white-hot sharpness of it. How it had felt when…

"And your parents knew about this?" he asked, his voice low and careful. Like he was trying desperately to keep from letting whatever anger or fury he was feeling slip out.

"No, I...I didn't tell them," Eira confessed. "I was afraid they'd be angry at me for being stupid, because I kept getting words wrong and couldn't read right....and I was afraid Grandmama would get really angry...and I was afraid that I deserved it. Because I can't read like I should."

Rhys was quiet for a long moment, his eyes staring off into space. His hands were clenched into tight, white-knuckled fists. The muscles in his jaw were jumping, like he was trying very hard to keep in the anger that was burning under his skin.

"The letters...the letters that keep changing places...that's a common learning disability, Eira," he finally said quietly. "It's...if you had been born Fae, it would have been caught when you began your lessons and it would have been managed."

Eira’s head jerked up, a small, almost desperate hope flaring in her chest. "Y-you mean...that’s normal? You…you’ve seen others with that issue before?"

Rhys nodded, and there was a grim anger in his eyes as he said, "Yes. And there are ways to help with it, spells to manage it...and it never, never involves a child being yelled at and hit with a ruler."

Something tightened in her throat, and her eyes were suddenly hot. But she fought back the tears...she was not going to cry about this. She would not cry.

Rhys took a deep breath, his hands unfurling from the tight fists he had clenched them into.

He took one of the book, opened it and then did a complicated-looking hand movement over it. He handed it to her. She blinked.

The letters were...different. The script was different. The script was so crystal clear, the lines further apart...for the first time in her life it didn't feel like trying to swim upstream as she read the first few lines. It felt...nearly easy.

"There are different ways to transfigure the spell...different fonts, different colours...spacing. If this doesn't work, we'll try another one."

A shuddering breath left her, and the tears that she had been trying to hold back spilt down her cheeks. In only a few moments, he had done what her entire life of trying and struggling and praying to make sense of the words hadn't, making the script so clear like it was just suddenly easy when it had never been easy in her life.

"Thank you," she whispered to him, her hands trembling slightly as she held the book. "Thank you." She didn't know how else to say it, because it felt like he had given her something priceless...something she had always longed for, something so wonderful, that she didn't even have words for it, had no way of describing the depth of gratitude she felt. And Rhys’s gaze was so gentle as he looked at her.

"I’m just sorry that you've had to go your whole life without that," he murmured gently to her. "No one should struggle that much for something that should come so easily."

And it was that easy suddenly.

The practical part of learning to control her magic…well that was another thing entirely. They were out in the garden, mostly because Eira was terrified of the idea of burning down the house.

Rhys sat across from her, not looking worried in the slightest. "It's your magic. There is no need to be afraid," he told her seriously. "Don't be afraid. It will bend to your will. It will do what you want it to do."

She swallowed hard, trying to believe him. He was right....but it was so hard. She was so used to thinking of her magic as wild and uncontrollable, and the thought of letting loose the power that coursed through her veins, of letting it loose into the world...scared her.

"It killed four men," she disagreed quietly. "it burned down trees."

Rhys gently took her hand, his large calloused fingers wrapping around her smaller, paler ones. "I know," he murmured to her. "It did. But those men were trying to harm you, little one. That's why your magic acted as it did, because it was protecting you, because you were in danger. I’m here with you now, I’m not going anywhere. You won't hurt me. You have control. You have control."

Something tightened her chest, his words echoing through her like a soothing balm. He was right. She could control this, if she tried.

She exhaled slowly, breathing out the fear and doubt that was trying to wrap around her heart and soul. "I...I can do this."

A smile curved his lips, his fingers squeezing hers reassuringly. "Yes, you can," he told her, and let go of her hand. "Now, start simple. Don’t focus on anything specific. Just...let your magic flow."

She let out a shaky breath, closing her eyes and reaching for her magic. It was like a roaring flame under her skin, just waiting, aching to be let loose.

She let it flow, let the heat of it fill her, let it course through her veins.

She could feel it. Could feel it spark over her skin. Could...

Her eyes fluttered open, and she saw the tendrils of her magic swirling around her hands. Little sparks snapped along her fingertips, and she had to fight to keep the magic contained.

"Very good," Rhys praised her. "You are doing well." She wet her lips, carefully pulling and pushing...concentrating her magic on her hands. It reacted nearly...rushing. Like it wanted to please her. Like it wanted to help her.

It was nearly like it was alive, like a living thing under her skin...like it wanted to please her. Like it was aching, desperate, to be used, to be commanded. It took a moment to get used to the feel of it, like this wild, feral thing that obeyed her commands, that rushed to her skin at her merest whim.

The lightning crackled between her open hands...and then she pushed it away.

When she pushed, it went. Slid back. Coiled back under her skin, a roiling heat that still burned under her skin, but obeyed her command. It obeyed her. That thought sent a shock through her, that this fearsome, powerful force that had killed 4 faes...it obeyed her. It listened to her.

A quiet, ragged gasp left her, her breath leaving her in a whoosh.

Rhys grinned at her, pride and pleasure gleaming in his eyes. “Very good,” he praised her voice, and his hand squeezed her own. “That was very well done.”

Eira’s hands were trembling violently, her breath shuddering out of her mouth as the adrenaline coursed through her veins. She had done it. She had let loose that fearsome power, and she hadn't hurt anything, hadn't destroyed, hadn't killed. She had controlled it. She had controlled it.

"I didn't hurt you?"

Rhys just smiled at her, lifting a hand and gently running his fingers through her hair. "No," he assured her, his voice gentle. "You did very well. I knew you could do it."

A shuddering sigh left her, and even though she was shaking violently with the adrenaline, her heart was lighter than it had been in days. Because it had worked, she had done it, and she hadn't hurt him.

"The more you do it, the easier it will be," Rhys promised her. "Maybe you'll be able to light a candle with it even."

A small smile tugged at the edges of her lips, and she let out a watery laugh. "A candle?" she repeated, the words sounding almost absurd. The magic she had could burn down a forest. And he was talking about lighting a candle.

A chuckle left his lips, and he leaned over to press a comforting kiss to the top of her head. “Maybe in a few days,” he told her, and warmth blossomed in her chest. “When you get a bit more used to it. But you did well, Eira. You did verywell.”

She had never expected her lessons to be this… undramatic. She'd half-expected sparks, explosions, destruction.

What she hadn't expected was to feel something almost like peace once her magic was unleashed, like it was settling instead of trying to break free.

It was a strange, but almost comforting sensation. Like something had suddenly clicked inside of her, like a piece of her soul that she hadn't even known was missing had finally settled.

At least one thing in her life was…easy.

It was a novelty, she'd admit. To have something in her life that didn't feel like an endless struggle to understand, that didn't feel like everything was stacked against her.

She'd never had anything in her life that was effortless, that came easy to her. Something that made her feel...like she was good at it...like she was talented.

“There is something else that I wanted to talk to you about,” Rhys said quietly. “We received the formal invitation for Elain’s wedding.”

The mention of her sister's name made her blood go cold, and the little bubble of peace inside of her popped like a balloon, leaving her with nothing but a hollow, aching emptiness.

"Oh," she mumbled the word, the sound falling from her lips like a dead thing.

“If you don’t want to attend…neither of us will say a single thing against it,” Rhys said quietly.

The thought of going to this wedding, of seeing her sister walk down the isle, dressed all in white, her hair all done up, with a smile on her face...it was like someone had reached into her chest, wrapped their hands around her heart, and squeezed.

She had never imagined missing Elain’s wedding. But she wanted more than anything to stay far, far away from that stupid, awful event.

She never wanted to see her twin sister again. What did that say about her?

But even as she thought that, even as angry as she was...a part of her still loved her twin sister. A part of her still wanted to reconcile. And that thought made her chest ache with how badly she missed her, with how much she longed to just reach out and fix everything, to go back to how things had been before her sister had said those horrible, awful words to her.

Before she had tried to take her future from Eira. Her baby.

It was such a bitter thought, something that made her chest throb with remembered pain. Elain knew how much she had wanted a baby, how much she had dreamed of holding her own child in her arms...knew how desperately hopeful Eira had been.

And Elain had tried to take that from her.

“Eira,” Rhys said carefully, a look at her hands and she saw the lightning sparking at her fingertips. She willed it away. It disappeared.

She swallowed hard, her hands shaking as she clenched them tightly together, willing the sparks to quell. But the anger, the pain, they burned in her chest, like a flame inside of her, and she couldn't keep the words from coming out, from tumbling past her lips in a rush."All my life, all I ever wanted was to be a mother," she managed to force out, her voice shaking with unshed tears and pain. "All I ever wanted--all I longed for ...was to be a mother, and she, she..."

Her breath came out in a shuddering gasp, and she took a few deep breaths before saying, "She tried to take that from me. I...I would have had that baby by now, Rhys...I would have. And she was just going to...she wanted to take that from me."

“I know,” Rhys said softly. “I know.”

She closed her eyes tightly and took a few deep, shuddering breaths, fighting back the burning pain in her chest, the hot tears that were pricking at her eyes.

"Why would she do that?” she whispered, her voice barely a breath. “Why...why would she want to take them from me...?"

Take her babies…and take Azriel too. Because that’s what it felt like.

Elain had wrapped him around her little finger so that Eira didn’t even have a chance.

“Jealousy,” Rhys answered with a sigh. “Her mind was a wasteland of jealousy, Eira. She was so used to having every male fall all over himself for her…and suddenly there was this vision that showed her twin sister with a male she herself found handsome. And Elain couldn’t have him…nobody could.”

It was an answer she had almost expected, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. It didn’t make the pain any less real.

"She's my sister," Eira whispered. "How...how could she be so selfish? So cruel?"

And it hurt, it burned to even think, to wonder how her sister could have done that to her, had been willing to do that to her.

"I've miss her so much," Eira mumbled, the words like broken blades in her chest. "Every day, I miss her more than I can even put into words ...but how could I ever face her, after what she did...? How could I?"

It was like a storm in her chest, the pain and uncertainty, anger and anguish warring inside of her, and she fought to hold it all in, to keep it behind locked doors inside of her. So much anger...and it was warring with her grief. The two were at odds, at war inside her heart.

“Azriel said that he would come along if you wanted to go,” Rhys said quietly. “We would be there to…you wouldn’t need to face her alone. I am sure Cassian would even borrow you a sword if you wanted one.”

The thought of walking into that wedding, of being on display with the rest of her family...it sent a cold shudder through her. But if her friends were with her, if they were there...maybe she could do it.

Maybe she could go, just this once. Not to celebrate her sister, but to mourn her. Mourn the sister who had been, even if she was gone.

“Yes,” she whispered. “I think I….maybe I’d like that.”

She swallowed hard and looked up to meet Rhys’ eyes. “If I was to attend...if I was to go to the wedding...would you and Azriel be there with me?”

Rhys nodded immediately, his jaw clenching, a hardness in his eyes. "Of course," he assured her, his voice firm and brooking no discussion.

"Azriel will be there, and I'll be there, and Cassian will be there and your sisters damn well better be there too."

She swallowed hard, her heart beating a little bit faster at his words. The thought of walking into that wedding, knowing all eyes would be on her...but Rhys would be there. Azriel would be there. Nesta and Feyre.

Maybe she could do it. Maybe she could.

Even if she wasn’t quite sure that Azriel at Elaine’s wedding was a good idea.

But she pushed that jealousy down. She couldn't...she couldn't...she couldn't keep bringing that up. There must be a day someday in the future where she forgave him for...that. Where she was willing to move on.

She drew in a slow breath, but she couldn't keep the words inside of her. "How...how is Azriel doing?" she asked, her words quiet. "With...Elain, and the wedding...?"

Rhys stared at her. "Eira, I can honestly say, that I don't think that has even crossed his mind," he said quietly.

Her chest went a bit warm at that, at that knowledge. At the thought that Azriel was...fine. That Azriel didn’t...care about Elain's wedding in the slightest.

But a small part of her, a part of her that almost frightened her, couldn't help but wonder....

"It hasn't?" she repeated, and she cursed the thread of hope in her voice.

Rhys studied her for a second or two, as if he, too, could hear the hope in her voice, the need. “No,” he said simply. “It seems that all my spymaster cares about is Elain's twin sister."

***

Azriel should probably consider himself lucky that Nesta hadn't used Ataraxia to cut his throat. Granted, as she had said, the only reason why she didn't was because Eira would be upset if he died.

No, he supposed that was a pretty good reason not to kill him. "And if you ever treat my sister like that again, I'll wring your neck," Nesta hissed.

He didn't doubt that she would.

"Noted," he said, and he was pretty sure he heard Cassian snicker behind them

But what he didn't add was the fact that, if he had that horrible conversation with Eira again, he'd wring himself by the neck. For being such an idiot, such a stupid bastard.

If he ever saw her cry like she had, shake like a leaf because he had broken her heart, shattered it.

"What are you going to do now?" Cassian asked him. "Anything new on your...wall?"

Ah, the wall.

The wall of doom, as the others had taken to calling it. Or more accurately, 'Azriel's obsessive chart of Eira's life'.

He had taken the whole thing down. And then put it back up. Put it back up with everything else the shadows could tell him.

"No," he said. How did he go forward with Eira? How did he...do this? How did he mend things, make things better? He was a Shadowsinger, a spymaster, a warrior and a killer. He had absolutely no idea how to deal with something like this.

"I would suggest you actually try to talk to her this time," Nesta said frostily. "And you owe her an apology as well, Cassian," she hissed.

Cassian let out a long sigh. "Alright," he said, before raising his hands in supplication at the look on Nesta's face. "Alright, I'll talk to her. Jeez, I said I would."

Azriel just suppressed a smile. He had a feeling Cassian had learned to tread very carefully around his mate, not wanting to spark a war between himself and the very, very scary Lady Death of the Night Court.

"That's usually my speciality though," he drawled. "Saying idiotic things. I think it's actually one of my gifts, really."

"Yeah, you've already displayed that gift for Eira, and it was quite a wonderful performance," she said dryly. "Perhaps you could try to make it up to her, hmm?"

"I'll...do my best," he mumbled, and he would, damnit. He would do his absolute best to make this right.

“So where are you going to take her next?” Cassian asked. “I would suggest somewhere you could actually talk to her.”

He'd thought a lot about it, for longer than he really should admit, and he had a few ideas.

"I was actually...thinking of a picnic," he confessed.

"A picnic?" Cassian asked, his voice almost disbelieving. "You and a picnic. Those two words...I never thought I'd hear them in the same sentence, Az."

Azriel just scowled. "What's wrong with a picnic?" he asked, his voice a bit defensive.

"Picnics are for romance," Cassian said, his voice almost gleeful with how teasing it was. "You're going to have a romantic picnic? Is there going to be wine, and roses, and candlelight?"

Azriel felt his heart skip a beat at that...and he had to admit, some of those things actually sounded rather nice...but that didn't mean he was going to admit that.

"Eira doesn't drink wine," Nesta said drily..

Azriel nearly cursed, but caught himself. Right, Eira didn't drink. At all.

Damnit. There went the wine.

"No wine, then," Azriel grumbled. "No wine, but it's still going to be a very romantic picnic, trust me."

"And where do you want to have your very romantic picnic?" Cassian drawled.

"I thought the River Bank at the House," Azriel admitted. She would be comfortable there...If she wanted to get away from him...she easily could.

Cassian actually looked a bit surprised at that. "Huh," he said, sounding a bit impressed against his will. "Didn't think of that. She'll...feel safe there. Plus, there are a few beautiful spots there..."

He swallowed back a bit of the anxiety that he felt. "So...you're saying it's a not completely idiotic idea?"

"It's...definitely a good idea," Cassian conceded. "As long as you actually talk to her this time. “

"What are you thinking for food?" Nesta asked him pointedly.

She was asking him that question as if he actually knew how to cook anything other than a piece of meat over the fire. He was a court-trained, highly skilled warrior, a Carynthian. He could fight, intimidate, and kill. Asking him to cook? That was a completely different thing…

“I’ll have the shadows pick up some things from a restaurant in the city…that way it will actually be edible,” he answered.

"I feel like that's probably a very good idea," Cassian said, and Azriel could hear the poorly concealed laughter in his voice.

"Shut up," he growled, but there wasn't enough actual heat in his words.

“She likes raspberries,” Nesta told him graciously. “She once nearly made herself sick by eating so many of them…If you can get any, she will be delighted,” she promised him.

Raspberries. He could do raspberries.

The shadows procured raspberry tarts. He also had them pass Eira a note, asking for her company that evening, receiving her agreement quickly.

She was giving him a chance.

Which was how he ended up in the River House with a Picnic Basket, a blanket and a dream.

He chose a place on the bank of the river, a place that was secluded and quiet. A place where he could show Eira that he hadn’t come here to ambush or intimidate her, but to talk to her, to listen.

And then he found her. Waiting for him on the back porch, a book in her hand.

She hadn't heard him yet, hadn't even noticed him.

He paused, for a moment, taking her in like this.

Beautiful. Even when she was just sitting there, reading and unaware that he was there, she was so damn beautiful that it made him ache inside.

Azriel found his heart catching at the sight of her, the sunlight dappling down through the trees, and the look of near serenity on her face as she read.

He almost didn’t want to disturb her, wanted to just let her remain there as she was, but he pushed down the urge and slowly stepped towards her.

"Eira?" he asked quietly, and it was almost a crime how lovely she looked in the sunlight as she lifted her head from her book, her blue eyes widening in surprise to the sight of him.

"Azriel," she said, her voice soft, and something in his heart twisted as he saw her hands tighten almost imperceptibly on the cover of her book. He swallowed hard, his heart clenching tight at the sight of it.

"I, um," he mumbled, forcing the words from his stupid, clumsy tongue. "I..." He swallowed hard, "I...brought a few things," he finished lamely, setting the picnic basket down at the foot of the porch.

"A picnic," she said, and he could hear the almost faint wonder in her voice. He dared to look up towards her, and saw her watching him, her eyes slightly wide, her lips parted.

"Yes," he said quietly, forcing words past the lump in his throat. "A...picnic," he repeated. "I, um...I thought...If you were willing…"

She was watching him, her blue eyes wide with surprise, the sunlight dappling down across her head, making parts of her braid gleam in gold.

He swallowed once more, his heart clenching in his chest. "I...I wanted to talk to you," he finally managed to confess. "If that’s...if that’s okay."

There was a moment of silence, and he felt like he was going to choke as he watched the different emotions flicker across her eyes.

Surprise, trepidation, hope, and more surprise...and there was a hint of vulnerability in her eyes, as if his words made her scared. Terrified. And he couldn’t blame her, really, not when he had royally messed up last time.

But she slowly nodded, her lips barely curving in the ghost of a smile. “Y—yes,” she said quietly. “I’d like that. Talking, I mean.”

"WIll you come with me?" he asked her, holding out his hand and her smile widened.

He caught a flash of something in her eyes before she slowly stood up, setting her book aside and lifting her own hand to meet his.

He fought the urge to let out a long sigh of relief or to clutch her hand too tightly as she slowly stepped down off the porch, and he gently led her over to the blanket that he had already laid out by the river.

He let go of her hand and watched as she slowly sat down on the blanket, tucking her legs underneath her. Her blue skirts puddled around her and he wondered how she managed to look elegantly while doing it. He stayed standing for a moment, just watching her, taking in the sight of her sitting there on the blanket that he had laid out for her.

Slowly, he also sank down into a sitting position, careful to keep some space between them. He didn’t want to...to startle her, overwhelm her, make her run.

He busied herself with unpacking the food.

"I love a picnic," Eira said quietly. "When we were still at the cottage, sometimes we ate outside just for a change of scenery. Don't get me wrong, it was...the winters were horrible. But not everything was," Eira whispered. "When we were glamoured...I missed it sometimes. I didn't know what to do with my time when we had staff again. When I didn't need cook, didn't need to harvest vegetables and we could just buy them..."

He had to swallow at that confession. He hadn’t...he hadn’t even realized that she would miss those days, even though of course she would. She’d had...had a life at that cottage, a family, a home.

Even when they had struggled…she still had those things.

"What do you miss the most?" he asked her curiously, handing her a plate and cutlery, and she thanked him with a smile.

She went quiet for a moment as she thought about that question, her head tilting faintly to the side before she spoke again.

“I think…” she began, her voice a mere murmur. “I think I miss the animals the most. We were at the edge of a forest...you could see deers sometimes...sometimes stray cats...I loved the stray cats. There was this one...it was ancient. Only had half a tail," she recounted with a laugh. "It used to come visit me when I was gardening...Sun itself in a spot and keep me company, listen to me singing...let me pet it however much I wanted."

He could almost picture that image. Could picture her, singing a soft, quiet song, as a cat sat in a patch of sunlight, enjoying her music.

He found himself wondering...he found himself wondering what other secrets Eira was hiding. How many more things he didn’t know about her. How many things he had never realized, never even thought about before...

"Do you actually enjoy gardening?" he asked her, unable to help himself.

She blinked at that question, looking...surprised he had asked. Then she nodded, a small smile on her lips. "Yes," she confessed. "It was a part of my chores, a part of survival, but I enjoyed it. It was..." She paused as if she almost wasn’t sure how to explain herself. "It was soothing," she confessed quietly. "Gardening...it keeps my hands preoccupied. Busy. And you get a result at the end of it... It...it was good."

"I couldn't hunt...I have absolutely no talent for that...so when Feyre started hunting...I made sure that she didn't need to worry about anything else," she explained.

He swallowed against the lump in his throat as she explained more about how their lives had been at the cottage, at how they had divided their tasks and...how they had survived.

How she had kept Feyre from having even more weight on her shoulders. Had taken that weight onto her own.

He wanted to ask her, wanted to ask her if it had been hard. If the weight of surviving had been too heavy for her.

But he...he didn’t want to push her. Didn’t want to bring up unpleasant memories, not when they finally had a chance to talk to each other.

"And you?" she suddenly asked, jolting him from his thoughts.

"You...you train and fight," she said quietly. “Is...is that soothing for you? Can you just...turn off your brain that way?"

It was a quiet, direct question, and it sent a shard of a shiver down his spine.

He wanted to lie to her about it. Wanted to say that yes, hunting and killing creatures and people was soothing, that he could turn off all of his mind and become the living, breathing blade that he was.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t lie to her. He found his throat bobbing as he swallowed once more, trying to find the right words to explain himself that wasn’t just excuses.

"Not always," he confessed quietly. "There are nights...there are nights when I can sleep, when I can just let go. When the killing is necessary to keep the people I care about safe," he said.

He was about to go on when his throat was dry, and he had to swallow hard before continuing. "But...there are nights when I can’t," he continued, his voice a painful whisper. "There are nights when the killing is not necessary, and I can’t…I can’t just forget after it."

It was the most open he had ever been with anyone, including his brothers, about the truth of what was inside him.

But with Eira...he wanted to be open. Wanted to be honest. He wanted her to finally know how broken he was, how damaged he was, and see if she would still look at him with those beautiful, wide blue eyes of her and not turn away.

To his surprise, she didn’t. Instead, she...she slowly nodded, that quiet understanding in her gaze.

The expression in her eyes...she understood. She understood how broken he was. How he was nothing more than a weapon. A killing machine in the shape of a male. She understood that brokenness and she wasn’t running.

“You should have a hobby,” she said finally, and there was a soft, teasing lilt in her voice. Surprising him. He expected hesitation, coldness maybe…but she was clearly serious about giving him a chance.

“A hobby,” she repeated, her voice still so very teasing. “Something to help you wind down, to relax, and to...to keep your mind occupied. Instead of just going to the training rings all the time like Cassian always says you do. It's why I garden, why I sew...why I embroider," she answered honestly. "It calms me. Feyre paints...I do that." He nodded, feeling the lump in his throat growing even larger.

She sewed and embroidered and gardened. And she did them all to try and calm her mind and heart, to distract herself even a little from how broken the world really was, to try and make something beautiful.

"I like listening to music," he said quietly.

"Like the symphony," Eira recounted and he nodded.

Which reminded him of the harp he had given her...

"I am sorry about the harp," he blurted out.

"Why?" Eira asked him, shock evident on her face. "Why would you be sorry about..."

"I didn't even think about that fact that giving you the same thing that you lost to keep your family from starving was maybe not...the kindest thing to do."

Eira froze for a moment, something like shock flickering across her face before she let out a quiet, somewhat shaky laugh, and he felt a cold ball of fear form in his stomach. She was…she was upset. Surely she had to be upset. But her voice was level and soft when she spoke.

“You really think that it…that it bothers me?” she asked, incredulity in her voice. “That I care that you gave me the same instrument that I had to sell?”

He opened his mouth, ready to tell her that yes, that was exactly what he thought, and that he had hurt her, but she cut him off.

“Azriel,” she said quietly, and the way she said it, the way his name rolled over her tongue, was like a gentle caress. His thoughts stuttered to a halt and he stared at her.

“I…I didn't think twice about that,” Eira confessed quietly. “I am so happy about the harp. About the fact that you gave it to me, and the fact that I can play again, do something that I loved...”

That confession...it was shattering him. He had worried over that harp, over the fact that he had probably reminded her of the worst parts of her life without even realizing it, but here she was, telling him that it hadn't even crossed her mind.

“I…" Azriel swallowed hard, his throat painfully tight, but he forced himself to speak anyway. "Then…you’re not…you’re not upset with me about it?" he asked again, his heart clenching in hope, in terror, in prayer, and she simply shook her head, her eyes still filled with that quiet wonder.

“No,” she murmured to him, her voice so soft and gentle. “No, I am not. How could I be? How could I be upset about the fact that you gave me something that I love, when you did it out of kindness, out of some attempt to make me happy?”

"I went about it wrong," he said quietly. "I should have...I should have actually talked to you. Asked you what you wanted...what you liked to do."

"We can talk. I like talking to you like this," Eira admitted quietly. "Getting to know you...I..."

He felt something in his heart tug at her admission, at her quiet confession. She…she liked talking to him. She wanted to get to know him better, to have him get to know her better.

He couldn’t stop a smile from tugging at his lips as he nodded, hope swelling in his chest.

He felt something in his heart tug at her admission, at her quiet confession. She…she liked talking to him. She wanted to get to know him better, to have him get to know her better.

"I wrote a list of questions," he admitted and she started laughing.

"Is that how the spymaster gets information?" she teased him.

He groaned in embarrassment, feeling the back of his neck starting to flush hotly as she just kept laughing. “Hush,” he muttered, his voice almost pleading. “Please, just hush."

Her laughter was like music, that was all there was to it. It sent something warm and golden through his heart, made him almost dizzy with how lovely it was, and he found himself wanting to hear more of it.

To hear her laugh just like that all the time, for the rest of his life...that would be Heaven.

"What's your favourite colour?" he asked her, and the amusement glinted in her eyes.

“Blue,” Eira answered, honestly, a blush rising on her cheeks.

Blue.

He hadn’t known that.

"And yours?" she asked him.

For just a moment he came up empty. What was his favourite colour? Black? "Blue," he answered, honestly. Blue. Blue because it meant coming home. The colour of the sky...of his siphons...of Eira's eyes.

"Favourite Food?" he asked her, clearing his throat.

She had to bite down on her lower lip before answering, trying and failing to keep her amusement from overwhelming her completely. “Favourite food?” she echoed faintly. “You really…a question like that is on your list?”

To his mortification, he was blushing now. He had made that list, trying to come up with as many possible good questions as he could think of. And of course, he had also put some of the stupidest and most mundane questions he could think of on that list as well.

"It is,” he muttered awkwardly, and she outright laughed again, burying her face in her hands this time, but it was a fond sort of laughter. Like she thought the question was ridiculous but was amused and charmed by his effort anyway.

"I want to know you," he admitted quietly.

Her laughter stopped, like she’d suddenly been stunned into silence. She slowly pulled her hands down from her face, that blush on her cheeks still there as she met his eyes.

“I…you do?” she whispered in surprise, and there was a trace of…something in her voice. Hope, perhaps. A hope that he meant what he said.

“Yes,” he answered her quietly, the word coming out in a strangled whisper as a wave of heat washed through him. He meant it. He meant it more than anything.

"Mine is this Illyrian candy that involves nuts and honey," he admitted. "It's so sweet that your teeth get stuck together."

Her eyes widened at that, and her lips parted in surprise. He could practically see her trying to imagine just how sweet those nuts and honey had to be, to make your teeth stick together.

Then she let out a soft laugh, the sound like music to his ears. “Oh goodness,” she muttered. “That sounds like…that sounds like something that tastes amazing and gives you a stomach ache at the same time.”

“It is,” he confessed, and he found himself smiling as he did so. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever eaten…and it makes me feel sick to my stomach if I eat too much of it.”

"Raspberries for me," Eira admitted to him. "I once nearly got myself sick with eating so many of them too."

"Look in the basket," he told her.

She squealed. Squealed as she saw the tarts, her eyes widening in surprise before a look like ecstasy washed over her face. His heart stopped in that moment, his breath catching in his throat as this beautiful female made such an adorable sound over pastries that he had brought, for her.

The shock and surprise on her face lasted for only a moment, before being replaced with absolute and childish joy, and he found a strangled chuckle tearing from his throat.

She’d…she’d squealed. Squealed and made an expression like a happy child on Solstice morning at the sight of raspberry tarts. All at something he had brought.

"How?!" she demanded.

He found himself grinning at her excitement, that childish reaction to seeing a gift in a basket. “I have my ways,” he told her with a hint of smugness in his voice, but he felt a strange rush of pride at the fact that he’d managed to surprise her like this. At the fact that he had given her something that would make her reaction so…adorable.

“In this case, the way was your sister.”

She laughed at that, the sound bright and happy.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #Azriel x Archeron!Reader #the prophecy #Looked to the sky

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