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#Dream Land's Finest
nookisms · 2 months
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Oh yeah baby it's like I'm there with em
Masterpost
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natpetersoncore · 1 year
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heard the dsmp ending was trash and yknow what? glad the last i truly cared for the story was the pogtopia arc
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urhoneycombwitch · 4 months
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common tongue of you lovin' me
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🍯 honey flavour: touchstarved loverboy smut
🐝 the bees: Eddie x reader
wc: 2.5k 
content warnings: nervous Eddie, touchstarved R, smut, dry humping (is it actually dry if they’re both wet…?), cumming in pants, one (1) use of the word “daddy”, light use of the miscommunication trope
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foreword: based on THIS anon everyone say THANKS anon. R and Eddie are in their early 20’s, R is on a gap year from college (so me), they’re in a new relationship with each other, I’m writing this while blasted on edibles idk what else to say 0_o
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By nature, Eddie Munson is not a shy person.
Even though his dark reputation in Hawkins hasn’t been completely erased, he still manages to make friends wherever he goes through sheer force of personality. It’s like a magic trick, one that you never get tired of- he’ll pause in the middle of grocery stores to make faces at a baby in a stroller, getting belly laughs out of a stranger’s kid in less than ten seconds while still holding your hand down the aisle. One second he’s right behind you in the record store, looking over your shoulder as you browsed, and the next he’ll be on one knee charming a elementary school-aged kid into getting the latest Dio album.
You’ve seen him flirt his way out of speeding tickets with Hopper, for christ’s sake. 
Eddie isn’t shy by any stretch of the imagination, so after three months of nothing but chaste kisses and quiet hand-holding, you’re left to assume he actually wants to take things slow with you.
He’s been nothing but a gentleman, in these early days of dating- the most action you’ve gotten from him was unintentional. On your third date, a dollop of his ice cream landed on your lap when he used the cone to gesture, which led him to manically grabbing napkins out of his dashboard to wipe at your skirt while you laughed it off. The second he’d brushed against your bare thigh he snapped his hands back like he’d touched a live wire, hastily heaping on apologies, leaving you to allay his nerves while wiping at the stain yourself.  
Which, whatever. It’s fine. It’s not like you’re complaining about him being respectful, per se, it’s just that it’s getting harder and harder (hah) to pretend like you don’t wanna fuck him. The feeling between your thighs only seems to increase in intensity when he gives you one of those precious little hand kisses at the end of a date, or a closed-mouth peck before he drives off into the night. 
Unfortunately for you and your wet dreams, Eddie Munson has the most edible body you’ve ever seen. Biceps bulging through those form-fitting tees he likes to wear, rounded nose and strong jaw outlined by that cloud of soft black hair, those lithe hips…
Hips that you’re openly staring at from across the room as you sit quietly on Eddie’s couch. He’s reaching up to grab a mug from the cabinet, his Metallica tee pulling up out of his dark denim at the motion, flashing a stripe of his pale lower back.  
You feel like a Victorian maid seeing ankle for the first time. You subtly press your thighs together under your short tartan skirt as Eddie moves around the kitchen, talking animatedly about the start of his upcoming campaign.
“I haven’t decided yet if I’m gonna go easy on the little shits or not,” he says, metal spoon clinking against ceramic as he mixes hot chocolate powder. “It’s Max’s first session as an official player, and I don’t wanna scare her off but I do have a reputation to uphold.”
“Yeah,” you agree, giving him a knowing smile as he crosses the room to pass you your mug- “You’re a DM most fearsome. Can’t let them off the hook too easily.”
Eddie blooms under your praise, wiggling his eyebrows with familiar cockiness as he settles on the cushion beside you. “Gotta keep Hawkins' finest in line. It’s a tough gig but I did swear an oath, after all.”
You smile around a sip of hot cocoa, then reach over to set your mug on the coffee table. Eddie has been sat in his usual manner (knees far enough apart to be taking up his whole seat, arm draped casually on the back of the couch) but the second your knee knocks against his, he adjusts himself stiffly, drawing his arm back with a nervous throat-clearing and a murmured “sorry”.
Normally you’d let it go, not wanting to push the issue past the point of his comfortability. But it’s been Three. Months. Of this. And you wanna test the waters, just a little.
“Sorry for what?” You ask, rotating to face him, your shoulders almost-but-not-quite touching.
He’d doing an uncanny impression of a deer caught in headlights, blinking at you with those doey brown eyes, stuttering his way through a weak explanation- “Uh… uh. Sorry for being- f-for touching you?”
There’s a lift at the end of his sentence, one that you mirror with a tilt of your own brow, a playful challenge. “You don’t have to apologize for touching me, Eddie. I’m your girlfriend.”
He chuckles, a nervous edge bleeding around the sound. The curls around his face dance with the head shake he gives. “No, of course, yeah, I know that.”
“Do you?” You scoot closer, a kick of assertiveness giving you the courage to press your leg against his. 
“Uh huh.” He’s gazing openly now at the bare skin of your thigh, like he’s waiting to see if it'll burn a hole into his denim. 
When you gently lift his hand and place it on the skin that he’s looking at, you hear him gulp, audibly. 
So he does want to touch you. Interesting.  
You know for a fact Eddie’s not a virgin. Back in high school, you’d both dated around your respective circles, gossip surrounding escapades in the Munson Van circulating back to you through mutual friends. When he’d asked you out a few months previous, you’d happily accepted, wanting to take full advantage of your interim gap year from college. For the first few weeks, you’d chalked his near-celibate behavior up to nerves.
But now, you’ve got him squirming with just a thigh touch. So maybe… he’s waiting for you to make the first move?
Fuck testing the waters- you’re gonna dive in head-first. 
You swing your leg over his lap, kneeling on the outside of his hips. His hands automatically go to your waist, and he lets out a little “Oh” as you rest your arms around his shoulders.
“You gonna kiss your girlfriend?” you whisper, forehead crushing into his bangs as you wrap a hand around the back of his neck.
Eddie looks up at you like he’s seeing a full moon for the first time, eyes sparkling with want. “Yeah,” he rasps, angling his face up to kiss you.
It’s soft, at first, like it always has been. His plush lips softly move against yours, breaking for air once, twice; when he kisses you with that same softness for a third time you press your tongue to the seam between his lips.
He lets you in with a little noise, low in the back of his throat as you lick into his mouth. His hands twitch on your hips as your tongues twine, slight movements in his own hips creating a ripple effect.
When the hard seam of his jeans bumps against the warmth of your cunt, you both gasp, your hand at the back of his neck tightening. 
“We should probably, um-” he’s panting against your mouth, grip flexing between hard and soft- “I mean, if you wanna stop…”
“I don’t wanna stop. Do you wanna stop?” you ask, equally out of breath.
“Fuck no,” he rasps again, in that smoke-salt voice, and this time when he kisses you it’s with one hand at the back of your head and the other pulling your hips to meet his.
The noises from the wet slide of your mouths are turning you on more than you care to admit, and you’re sure he can feel the damp patch that’s soaking through your panties as the crotch of his jeans make contact again. Which normally would make you feel really self-conscious, if it weren’t for the fact that Eddie’s hard as a rock underneath you, the bulge in his pants thickening with each roll of your hips.
You drop your kisses down, exploring where you haven’t been able to before: against his cheek, his jaw, stopping just behind his ear. Unable to help yourself, you graze your teeth against the velvet skin there, and he jolts beneath you with a small yelp.
“Sorry,” you whisper, still a touch mirthful but soothing your tongue over the mark.
Eddie brushes his thumb across the back of your neck as you continue your path down the column of his throat. “Now who’s sayin’ sorry for no reason. Baby, I’m begging you to do that again.”
So you do, this time at the junction where his neck and shoulder meet, grinning against his skin when he groans and bucks his hips up. 
Around your hickey-making, he’s choking out words that you just manage to string together. “I wanna… make you feel- christ, sweetheart- good too, wanna make it good for you-”
When you sit up to see his face, he looks absolutely wrecked- rosy flush in his cheeks, lips swollen and kiss-bitten, pupils blown so big his eyes are nearly black with lust.
“You are making me feel good,” you assure him, pulling the hand he’s got on your neck down to where the end of your skirt sits, pausing before your next move. “You want me to prove it?”
He nods, and you guide him into the warmth of your thighs, letting his fingers graze the stickiness that’s been steadily soaking through the fabric.
Eddie inhales sharply, moans out, “Fuck, honey”, and when his thumb finds your clit you sink down into his touch, stomach tightening with the shock of arousal coursing through you.
He’s watching your face intently as he slowly circles your clit, gauging your reactions, pressing in a bit harder and faster when the pace change makes you cry out.
Feeling doubly exposed with his eye contact and hand against your core, you try making a joke to diffuse some of the tension as the pad of his finger moves against you in steady rhythm. “Still thinkin’ about stopping?”
“A train could crash through that wall and it wouldn’t stop me for a second,” Eddie says, resolute and getting a little braver, kissing his own path across your throat, nibbling at a spot that makes your clit pulse beneath his fingertip and your cunt clench around nothing. 
Goddamn, he’s a quick learner. In less than two minutes he’s got you so close to the edge, squirming around his touch, that you have to grab his wrist and still his fingers between your thighs.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. You can feel his breath punching up down up, your breasts pushed up against his chest from the way your body was trying to coil in on itself.
“Nothing,” you assure him, and now it’s your turn to falter around your words. “I just- maybe can I… I wanna get o-off at the same time. If you want. And I’m really, really close.”
Eddie’s head falls back against the couch with a thunk, eyes scrunching shut as if in concentration, a strung-out whine leaving his throat. “Hang on. Give me a second.”
He’s still got his hand on your clothed pussy, and you can’t help but giggle once he blinks back to the present, dazed- “Christ. You can’t say shit like that, baby, I almost came in my jeans.”
You give him a condescending little pout, accented with another twist of your hips. “Well maybe that’s what I want.”
“Give you anything,” Eddie replies, unabashedly babbling now as you adjust yourself in his lap. “Anything you want, sweetheart. It’s yours. All yours.”
He helps you maneuver into a new angle: now, your drenched core can rub freely against his thigh, while your knee in the socket of his hip means he can rut his cock along the flat of your leg.
When you move experimentally in shallow circles on his thigh, the newly-gained friction lights up your throbbing clit. Soon, all pretenses melt away as you both find your rhythm again, little grunts and pants filling the air.
“Feel good, angel? That’s it,” Eddie encourages, slipping his hand under your skirt to grope at the meat of your ass, helping your movements along as he chases his own pleasure with a rocking grind against your leg. “Take what you need. Lemme get you there. Please, please…”
His whines spur you on, one of your hands shooting out to clutch at the back of the couch beside his head while the other anchors itself on his opposing bicep. “Fuck, Eddie, keep talking like that, ‘m so close…”
“Talk to you all day,” he heaves out, “you make me so fucking hard, princess. You feel how hard I am for you? God, you’re so wet, that’s so fucking hot…”
You should have expected that bravado and charm you’ve seen these last few years to naturally be carried over into his sex life, but god, not in your wettest of dreams could you have imagined the mouth on him. 
The combination of his dirty talk and thigh between your legs is bringing you right up to that edge again, toes curling in anticipation, cunt starting to flutter erratically with every thrust.
“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come…” your head rolls back on its hinge, eyes flickering shut as Eddie fumbles to catch at your clit again, movements becoming sloppy. 
“C’mon, pretty baby, let go.” He’s sucking another mark into your neck between his praises, teeth catching- “Let me see you come, honey, be a good girl for daddy…”
“Jesus FUCKING christ” is all you manage to grit out before you’re tipping over the edge into orgasm, all your muscles bearing down into the bright point of pleasure, high sob winding its way from your throat. 
Eddie keeps kneading at your spasming clit as you ride it out on his thigh, even as he lets out a series of short, keening whimpers, even as his cock jerks against your leg into his own release. 
You sag into his waiting arms, tittering lightly against his neck as you both work on catching your collective breaths. 
“Holy shit, and I was really starting to think you actually didn’t want to fuck me.” You laugh in relief.
His hand pauses mid-stroke up the slope of your back, sounding genuinely aghast when he asks “Why the fuck would you think that?”
You straighten in his arms with an incredulous stare. “Uh, maybe because you acted like a monk that I was corrupting every time I even breathed near you?”
Eddie covers his eyes with his hands, heels to sockets, groaning- “Fuck, honey, I was tryn’a be respectful. You’re telling me we could’ve been doing this sooner?”
You reach to soothe your palms over the length of his forearms, equally fond and serious when you say “I’m telling you I absolutely would have slept with you on the first date.”
He makes a strangled, pained noise before you continue- “You described to me in detail the entire mating cycle of a bat, and then walked directly into a trash can by accident. How did you expect me to wait on jumping your bones?”
He lets you take his hands, enveloping them in your own and bringing them to your chest, pressing your lips affectionately to each ring.
He whispers, “Can I ask you something?” 
When you look up at him again, he says, with sincerity, “Can I see your tits next time?”
You hide your laughter into the crook of his neck. 
________
guys i cannot stress how high I am is this even any good plz perceive me 
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Chocolate Princess ♡
Willy Wonka x reader
Pt 2
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Part One
Description - Y/n Ficklegruber can't help but become enamoured with the spectacularly peculiar man stood in the middle of the galleria.
Word count - 1.3k
Warnings - fluff, fluff and more fluff ♡
a/n - little NYE present for you all!
Masterlist
--♡--
At exactly 9:51, I excitedly leapt out of my bed already dressed and ready to go. It was a crisp night so I elected for one of my thicker dresses which reached my knees, wooly tights, my coat and matching small cape. Both fur lined with pom poms ending the ties of the cape. All of it a familiar shade of green, a shade which lined nearly every inch of my wardrobe. It seemed even the choosing of my fashions were up to my fathers input.
I crept out of my room and down the stairs, only feeling safe once my gloved hands had managed to lock the mansion’s ornate door.
I skipped through town, skidding to a stop at the fountain as the large clock struck the hour of 10. I peered all around, my smile beginning to droop at the emptiness all around. However, a crunching of ice beneath boots pricked up my ears. So I began to walk the circumference of the fountain. Unbeknownst to me, another on the opposing side of the water feature had begun to do the same. My pace picked up as it seemed the footsteps would retreat at the same speed I would follow. Until finally I managed a jog and practically lunged at the burgundy coat and took it in my grasp. Willy jumped around. But when our eyes met, everything became still once again.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
We spoke together in whispered breaths.
“Are you ready to begin?” I went to sit down on the fountains edge but was stopped by Willy. Who proceeded to produce a blanket from his briefcase which he then layed down upon the icy stone. He took my hand in his and allowed me to sit once again.
“You are a true gentleman.” I teased in my poshest voice.
“Nothing but the best for the finest lady in all the land.” He jumped up onto the fountain and announced to the unknowing night air.
“Sh.” I reprimanded through my own giggles as I tugged him back down, my smile betraying any semblance of sterness.
“You don’t want anyone to know you’re out here?” His eyes drooped as his smile faltered. “You don’t want to be seen with me.” I tightly clasped both his hands in mine so he would be forced to look at me.
“Even if the whole world was watching us right now, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Okay?” He softly nodded.
“Now lets begin.” I produced a piece of paper from my pocket. “I thought we should start with the alphabet.”
I handed it to him and would direct his finger to the letter in question each time I taught him a new one.
--♡--
It took a long time for Willy to even get the grasp of the alphabet and when the clock struck midnight, I wasn’t even sure he was there.
“How about we just try it out.” I turned the paper over and wrote down the word ‘CAT’. “Can you tell me how this word sounds?”
He took the paper and began to turn it upside down as if trying to determine in which way he could make it work. “Not a bit of it.”
I giggled but stopped when his face showed he thought I was laughing at him. I took the paper from him and used my pen to circle the A. “You see this one is a vowel.” And then I circled the C and the T. “And these are consonants.”
“All I’m hearing is owls and nonsenants.” I chuckled sweetly at his ability to turn anything round and make it sweeter for the world to swallow. Seeing his tired face I decided to set my teaching supplies down. I stroked my hand over his weathered skin feeling the weight of the days struggles plastered over his face. Although this was fun and exciting for me, the poor boy had been through enough and he didnt need some girl trying to live her fruitless dreams of adventure through him.
There was a silence between us until he broke it. “I’m never going to get it?”
“Don’t say that! Reading takes time, it isn’t something you learn overnight.”
“You mean, you were going to give me more lessons?” He looked at me in awe that oozed naivety. I couldn’t help how I continued to stroke his face.
“Of course.” I suddenly became aware of my hands and their minds of their own. I righted myself back to propriety. “Anyways, reading is more about exposure. The more you read the better you become. And the better you become, the more you can read. It’s quite beautiful really.”
He gently tapped the side of my head. “With the amount of smarts you’ve got crammed up in this little head, well I wouldn’t be surprised if you were able to read every book in the world!”
I giggled embarrassed. “I wouldn’t know.”
“What do you mean you wouldn’t know?”
“Father stopped my studies when I was only 18. And he won’t allow me to go further. He won’t even allow me to spend my days at the library. I’m forced to be in his chocolate shop every hour of every day.”
He thought to himself. “Doesn’t sound so bad–” I shot him a quick glare. “-If you’re me! But that’s because making chocolate is my dream.”
“All I ever dream about now is being able to go off and learn. I want to read every book ever written, see every study ever done. Cram my mind full till it hurts with every single thing in the world there is to know.” I had risen excitedly and began to flap my hands about animatedly. I realised how much I had let myself express and became embarrassed under invisible eyes.
Yet the pair transfixed on my figure, held nothing but love.
“I guess it’s quite a silly dream to have.”
He rose and joined me, attaching our hands once more.
“All great ideas started with a dream, that’s what mama used to say.”
“What a beautiful thought. She must be a spectacular woman.”
“She was.” My lips parted to offer something more to the moment we were having but I was rudely interrupted by the ominous stroke of one.
“I’m sorry, I must go. Daddy sleepwalks when he eats too much chocolate and I must be there to help him out.” I hurriedly collected my things and returned to where Willy stood, still locked in our previous stance. Looking up once more into his eyes, I decided my fate and pulled him into a soul crushing kiss that had the touch of a butterfly. We parted only slightly, each wanting to return.
“I’m sorry I truly must leave.”
“Wait.” He stopped my retreating form. “Please accept this.” He returned to his suitcase and began to rummage.
“Willy, don’t be ridiculous do not pay me!”
“I wouldn’t thank you with something as common as money. No, I must show my gratitude with the only thing I own with any worth. My recipes. Open.” He gestured to my mouth and I willingly obliged. He placed a dainty rose shaped chocolate onto my awaiting tongue and I eagerly consumed it.
“They just get better each time.” I spoke, rather unladylike, through a mouthful of melting chocolate. I gave him a final kiss on his cheek and began to lightly skip back home.
--♡--
A quiet melody joined my journey home.
For a moment, life has never tasted so sweet. For a moment, I’m enriched with possibility. He is exciting and new, But be careful and think it all through.
Home is where you’re secure, It’s safe and you’re pure. But how long can you ignore it. That your heart is melting like chocolate.
--♡--
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Best mistake
Azriel x Reader
Summary; Reader doesn't quite understand how mating bonds work.
Warnings; Mentions of sex
Masterlist
Velaris was always beautiful during the day, but during the night? It was a sight of dreams, if you really think about it; that’s one of the reasons it is called court of dreams. Because of this you decided that tonight’s dinner party should be held in the main balcony of the house of wind where the view was spectacular. Thankfully Feyre and Nesta volunteered to help you, otherwise you wouldn’t have made it. You were so lucky that Nesta preferred the bookstore you worked at, because if she didn’t you wouldn’t have met the inner circle, they wouldn’t become your family too and most importantly you wouldn’t have met him. The night court’s shadowsinger-your mate. Technically he wasn’t your mate-mate yet if that’s a thing, but you were making progress. You knew you had to accept him as your mate but with everything going on -the recent war, the reconstruction of Velaris and his missions- it was nearly impossible to find a free day -or several (wink wink)- for the mating ceremony. You still had no clue how you would accept him but the idea of asking anyone filled you with embarrassment. You are a fae for crying out loud shouldn’t you know this already?
You and Feyre were preparing the meals, everything was perfect until you noticed that you both forgot about Azriel’s request; apple pie. You whipped your head in Feyre’s direction to inform her, but she was gone, probably bickering with Nesta for something irrelevant. You shook your head and started making the apple pie. You knew that the house was enchanted, and it could make the food -weird- yet you wanted the dinner to be special and full of love thus you made all the food.
Everything was set and by the beating sound of wings you knew that Cassian, Azriel and Rhysand were approaching the house. You took your apron off and headed to the balcony.  Just a moment before the males landed, black smoke filled the air and Mor, Elain and Amren fell into the balcony. You laughed at their panting knowing that they were probably racing the boys here.
Strong arms engulfed you from behind and the musky scent of cedar and whiskey had you shivering. His face rested in your neck where he left a soft kiss.
“Hello angel” his voice melodic and soft like the finest velvet.
You just leaned back enjoying his Illyrian warmth and closing your eyes.
“Enough I’m starving” Cassian exclaimed earning a growl from your mate.
Soon everyone was devouring your food, complimenting you. After everyone was finished, you and Feyre walked back inside to get the desserts, you picked a plate and filled it with apple pie keeping the rest in the kitchen in case Azriel wanted more, after all you made it for him. As soon as Feyre had moved the desserts to the table you picked the plate and walked back outside, taking a seat next to Azriel you placed it in front of him without interrupting his conversation with Rhysand. He was briefing him about his last mission, so lost in the discussion that he didn’t notice your movement. Cassian did though and leaned back in his chair a smirk forming on his face. You lifted your eyebrow and he just shrugged pulling his gaze from you.
Azriel stopped talking and picked up his fork taking a piece of the apple pie, he chewed and a low moan left his mouth.
“This is amazing” he said, already picking a second piece.
“Really? I made it for you” you smiled excitedly.
Silence.
Everyone’s head whipped towards you. Azriel gulped, his eyes wide.
“What?” You asked. Fear filled your body.
Rhysand was standing up slowly as to not provoke the shadowsinger.
“Y/n don’t you know that this is how you accept the mating bond?” Feyre spoke her gaze fixed on Azriel. You gave her a confused look. “Offering food.” She specified.
“But we made all the food and we’ve done it again before” your voice barely above a whisper.
“Did you make the apple pie specifically for Azriel?” Cassian asked the smirk never leaving his face and his eyes filled with amusement. He knew.
You nodded.
“There you have it. You just accepted the bond and sent your mate into a sexual frenzy” he boomed. Your jaw almost touched the ground.
“You saw me leaving the plate there…you knew… why didn’t you tell me?” You shouted.
“I wouldn’t be able to enjoy this” he leaned back more and placed his hands behind his head.
Your gaze turned to Azriel who was shaking and then you felt it too. Every feeling was million times stronger, his scent filling all of your senses making you clench your thighs, a faint smell of your arousal leaving your body.
Azriel lifted his gaze on you, his eyes filled with darkness and dominance.
“Do you want this?” His voice feral and possessive.
“Yes” you breathed.
In an instant you were in his arms, his wings flaring behind him.
“Don’t come to the cabin” he growled to the others and with that you were on the sky, a yelp leaving your lips.
He glanced at you and then you decided.
This was the best mistake you’ve ever made.
Requests are open.
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ukiyoebirds · 1 month
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Never Fear, Dream Land’s Finest is Here!
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mybeautifuldelirium · 2 years
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You have no idea how excited I got when I saw you posted about Aemond Targaryen requests ❤️ can I request a. story with him and reader Where he gets jealous. Like a Lord from a different house keeps trying to get her hand in marriage. Also the reader grew up in castle and has been his best friend since babies.
You Belong To Me || Aemond Targaryen x Reader
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A/N: so I slightly diverted from the request, but the overall premise is pretty much the same :) hope you enjoy
Summary: Aemond and the reader have been best friends since childhood, however Y/N’s desire to find a husband awakens extreme jealousy in the prince, making him realize his feelings for her. But what if it’s too late?
Warnings: Angst, Jealousy, Fluff end
Growing up, Aemond never really had any friends. It made perfect sense to him, he was a prince above all and after years of putting up with his brother’s and nephews’ cruel pranks, he had long ago stopped trusting most people. However lady Y/N was a rare exception, the daughter of a northern lord who had sent her as a lady in waiting to princess Helaena, in hopes of her finding a noble husband, when the day comes.
During those years by the chance of fate Y/N had grown very close to the younger prince. She’d be the first to console him after the numerous times his brother would try to humiliate him and when he lost his eye, Y/N would sneak into his chambers every night to tell him stories until he’d fall asleep, much to the disapproval of her septa. Even Queen Alicent, soon after the incident, grew fond of the northern girl, who was always by Aemond's side. Like any mother would, she found comfort in the thoughts that her beloved son had someone to care for him.
Years had passed, despite the loss of his eye, the younger prince had grown into a dangerous swordsman and Y/N had flowered into a beautiful young maiden, still full of hope and dreams. And though the two couldn't spend as much time together, they still deeply cared for each other.
It was a bright sunny day in King’s Landing and Y/N was accompanying princess Helaena on her daily walk through the lavish gardens. The girls were so caught up in their sweet talks that they almost didn’t notice the two silver haired princes approaching them.
“Ah there you are, dear sister. Excited for the upcoming feast in honor of your wedding with Aegon, I assume” Aemond smirked at Helaena, making his brother scoff at the reminder.
“Gods, the wedding” Y/N beamed “I wonder when will my turn come, what if I meet someone at the feast”
Suddenly Aemond’s whole demeanor dropped, those words struck him like an arrow. Of course like any young lady, Y/N would dream of meeting her future husband, he knew that day would eventually come, but for so many years he had subconsciously chosen to ignore these thoughts.
It was the day of Helaena and Aegon’s wedding. Earlier that day, Y/N had helped the princess ready herself. While she was gently placing the ornate garments on Helaena frame, Y/N couldn’t help but let her imagination wander to the day of her own wedding. Ever since a child, she had dreamed of that moment, but as the years went by, her hopes of it coming to fruition were slowly fading away. Not long ago she had come of age and yet not a single marriage proposal or even an attempt at courting had come upon her. Aemond was like her shadow, the only man she had spoken to and his presence seemed to prove effective in scaring any possible suitors away.
This night, however, Y/N was determined to find herself a betrothed, she had to, or her impatient father would soon marry her off to some old cruel northern lord in hopes for an alliance. She carefully picked up the dress Queen Alicent had sent her, it was a deep emerald green color with delicate gold embroidery across the bodice. Y/N smiled to herself, having grown up without her mother, made her really grateful for having Alicent by her side.
The royal wedding was a grandiose affair, tables lavishly decorated with exotic flowers and the finest gold cutlery. Nobles from the far east and highborns from all across the seven kingdoms had come to pay their respects. It was clear that the queen wanted this event to be remembered.
Y/N sat in awe of the scenery before her, indulging in the stories of the foreign ladies sitting beside her, that’s when she noticed Aemond, standing by one of the decorated pillars and she could swear he was stealing glances at her. Oh how she wanted to go and talk with him, her closest friend, but Y/N knew that if she did, all her chances of finally finding a suitor would be damned.
“Care for a dance, my lady” Y/N was suddenly shaken from her thoughts. A man with golden curls and piercing green eyes was extending his hand to her. ‘A Lannister, perhaps’ she thought to herself. The maiden happily accepted his offer, it looked like luck was at last upon her.
She spent the whole night dancing and talking to the Lannister lord, she quite enjoyed his company, though she had to admit none of it could compare to the company of her prince. What she didn’t know, however, was that throughout her whole time with the lord, Aemond was staring daggers at them. The one eyed prince couldn’t explain it, but a burning rage was building up inside him. The sight of another man touching Y/N, his Y/N was so antagonizing, he hadn’t noticed how strongly he was gripping the handle of his sword, oh how he wanted to slice it through the golden bastard. He was trying to keep his composure, but once he saw the couple heading outside to the gardens, he could no longer contain himself, he got up and followed them, anger mixed with jealousy clouding his vision.
The night sky was clear, thousands of stars glistening like diamonds. Y/N was beaming, walking by the lion, smiling and talking about her dreams of the future. This fairytale moment, however, was shortly cut by no other than the dragon prince himself, her Aemond.
“Y/N, come, let’s go” he scowled, looking her directly in the eyes. But before the puzzled girl was able to respond, the Lannister man stepped forward “And why should she listen to you? As far as I’ve heard, she’s not your betrothed, she does not belong to you” he laughed.
These words awoke a whole new level of rage in the young prince, furious, he took out his sword and pointed it at the man’s chest, making Y/N let out a frightened squeal “Aemond, don’t” she pleaded.
“You know who I am, don’t you, you pest” the prince hissed at the lion, without putting down his weapon. “Dare you say another word, none of your Lannister gold will be able to save your life from my dragon” this threat undoubtedly scared the man as he turned around and headed back to the feast, without a word.
“Why? Why did you do this” Y/N whispered on the verge of tears. “I thought you were my friend, I thought you wanted me to be happy”
“Come, let’s go inside” Aemond sighed, taking her hand in his.
“NO” the girl protested “All these years I’ve been by your side, I’ve done everything for you to be happy and this is what you do to me? All I wanted was just to be happy!”
“He doesn't deserve you, he is NOT the one for you” the prince snapped.
“Oh, and who is then? Some old ugly lord, that my father is going to marry me off to and-” her words were suddenly cut off by a soft pair of lips on top of hers. Y/N was caught completely off guard, memories of their childhood flooding back, but it didn’t take her long to return the kiss, instantly clasping her hands around his neck. That kiss was full of longing, it was a release for all these feelings they’ve had developed for each other throughout the many years. It now all made perfect sense to Y/N, all these years she had spent imagining her future spouse, too scared to think of the one she truly desired, her dragon, her Aemond.
Once out of breath, they pulled away, resting their foreheads together.
“Me, you belong to me” Aemond whispered, gently caressing her cheek.
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themotherofhorses · 1 year
Text
pairing: aemond targaryen x handmaid!reader
summary: cassandra baratheon dreams of prince aemond. the same cannot be said for prince aemond himself.
warnings: explicit language. smut. simp!aemond eating out his girl because the feast apparently sucked. slight breeding kink. voyeurism. cass gets her poor lil heart broken for the plot.
notes: i texted @chainsawsangel with the following:
"me when I break cassandra baratheon’s poor lil heart by having her come across aemond eating out his handmaid. #feminism".
his handmaid's tales | main masterlist
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Lady Cassandra Baratheon stumbles across them next, though by an honest mistake as well.
(It hurts her heart a bit too much to considerate it anything other than that)
Foolish, foolish, foolish girl.
She had always been a prideful child, too high-spirited and headstrong for her own good. Her own lady mother warned her of that. But on her eight-and-ten nameday, her lord father brought up the prospect of a betrothal between her and Prince Aemond Targaryen.
Cassandra liked that very much- the idea of becoming his princess. Each night before sleep, she’d mumble his name into her pillow, a tiny prayer to any listening god that they would make him hers.
Please, please, please…
Prince Aemond…Aemond Targaryen, she whispered, a smile curling on her lips. One day he’ll be my husband, and I his lady wife.
Three months later, House Baratheon arrived at King’s Landing to celebrate the nameday of the Princess Rhaenyra, the realm’s heir.
Cassandra had brushed out her long dark hair until it shone in the evening sunlight and chosen her finest red silks. She had been looking forward to this day for weeks since learning of her possible marriage to Prince Aemond. Prince Aemond, her future betrothed. She giggled at the thought. Just thinking of him stirred butterflies within her tummy, a faint fluttering feeling inside. She was so in love with him.
He was so tall and handsome and strong, with sharp, stern features and hair like moonlight. Everything a prince ought to be.
Prince Aemond, my future husband.
Prince Aemond spared her not a single glance during the banquet, much to her embarrassment. Cassandra had made sure to look her best, all in the hopes of catching his attention. Several Lannister lords complimented her well throughout the night. But her prince remained at the royal family’s long table, seated in his chair with no desire to move. Or ask for my hand in a dance, she thought with a pout.
“Perhaps he does not know of the betrothal?” Her sister, Ellyn, offered. “There could be a chance that he was never told.”
Cassandra was not appeased. “No, the queen would’ve told him; it is in her good natural…perhaps he does not care to dance,” she sniffed in disapproval. She would prefer a husband that would twirl her around the room, the way a prince does with his princess. She picked up her fork, quietly chewing on the roasted meat as she spotted her Prince Aemond then slipping out of the room. Her eyebrow raised, but she said nothing more, too disappointed and sadden to push the matter further.  
“Go talk to him after this,” her mother, Lady Elenda, murmured into her ear, rubbing her shoulder. “Dragons love a stormy sky as much as they do a clear and bright-blue one.”
Cassandra does what her mother told her, walking down the dimmed Keep’s hallway, running a hand across the stoned wall as she searches for Prince Aemond’s bedchamber. If the gods heard my prayers, then I shall soon share it… But as she nears one of the little libraries, she overhears a soft moan, feminine and breathless.
And another…and another.
A hiccup this time.
A whimper for the fourth.
It causes her cheeks to flush pink as she stands for a moment outside the room, hearing more moans and whimpers and hiccups fill the air. Servants, perhaps? She considers that for a slight second before the girl inside moans out a name that makes her breath hitch in her throat and her stomach begin to tauten.
“Aemond…”
No, she thinks, pressing a hand against her breast, feeling her poor heart painfully quickening within her chest. No. No. No. Cassandra shakes her head, not willing to believe such. No. No. No, it cannot be. But…
“A-Aemond…”
Breathing deeply, she leans in, peering into the room as her gaze locks onto a girl perched atop the dark, mahogany desk. Her head is flung back as she trembles and moans, tangling her hand in the silver hair of her Prince Aemond, who is nestled between her thighs. Oh…but Cassandra knows what he is doing. The girl’s chest rises and falls, heavy breasts tugged out from her plain servant dress, her other hand pinching both swollen nipples.
“Ah…! Mmmm, oh sweet gods, Aemond….”  
Cassandra feels ready to faint. Tears swell in her dark eyes as she watches Aemond shake his head and smush his handsome face deeper between the girl’s quivering thighs, strong hands holding her legs apart. “Keep them apart…good girl,” she hears him mumble. “That damned feast outside did nothing to quell my hunger, such a fucking waste of my time.”
The girl bites her lip, her shoulders trembling.
“I want to live here, in between your thighs,” and Aemond lifts his face up from her soaking cunt, kissing the inside of both her thighs. Once, twice, four times, so soft and tender and loving. He brings two fingers to trace along her folds up to her clit, chuckling when the girl shivers and gasps. “My pretty little handmaid- my precious girl.”
“My prince…”
Handmaid? Cassandra scoffs at that, several fat tears already streaking down her cheeks. Her pretty dark eyes are probably smudged and red and absolutely ugly.
A handmaid…she’s lost to a fucking lowborn handmaid, a girl nothing more than the dirt beneath her dainty sandaled feet.
She’d laugh if she wasn’t so fucking heartbroken.
Cassandra keeps her eyes on her Aemond as he rises to his feet, pulling the handmaid’s face up to his for a passionate kiss. She sucks in a breath, hearing the muffled moans and wet noises and the prince’s low groans, and the dirty, sinful words that he mutters against her puffy lips.
“I’m not your prince, my love. How many times must I need to remind you?”
The handmaid shakes her head, shying away before his fingers grip her chin, tugging her face back to his. “All the babes I’ve seeded into your belly, and yet you still think of me as nothing more than your prince….” Aemond chuckles, tracing her bottom lip with the tip of his thumb. Cassandra can see his other hand fall to his pants and hears his belt unbuckling. “Rest assured, I’ll give you a few more months, but then my baby will be in your womb again.”
“But we already have three,” the handmaid whines, leaning back on her palms as she eyes the prince’s hardened cock when his pants puddle down to his ankles. But there is a smile on her lips, and her pretty features are twisted in glowing happiness and excitement. She reaches forward, wrapping a hand around the head of his dick, smirking when he hisses. “Let the twins reach their third nameday, my love, before we consider our next one.”
Aemond hums. “We’ll see.”
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Cassandra Baratheon leaves soon after that, face tucked within her hands as she curses the gods above for not listening to her prayers.
“Why? Why? Why?” she asks, again and again. “But why would they?” she soon mumbles, blinking the new tears back. “They were foolish wishes. I was too fucking foolish.”
She hears laughter and singing, mocking her misery, and when she flies past the royal nursery, she fails to notice the good Queen Alicent cuddling a brown-haired babe to her chest.
And at her feet sat two pretty twin children playing with their little wooden dragon figurines.
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tag list: @aemondsblog @dc-marvel-girl96 @neobanguniverse @missalycat21 @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan
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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year
Text
“Steve! We have to go!”
“I’m coming!” He yelled back to Robin, still searching through his closet for the pants he planned for their night out. “Where the hell are they?”
He was throwing things out of the way, not caring where they landed.
That was a problem for future Steve.
Current Steve needed to look as hot as possible.
His dry spell would be over tonight. He wasn’t leaving the bar until it was.
“Steve!”
“Robin! Where are the jeans?”
“What jeans?”
“The jeans! The ones that you told me to wear!”
“Didn’t you wear them yesterday?”
“No! I saved them!”
But Steve looked over at his laundry basket where his shirt was hanging over and the pair of jeans he was looking for peeked through.
He did wear them yesterday.
Fuck.
Okay, back up options.
The dark jeans that actually probably belonged to someone else and didn’t fit his thighs right? No, he needed to show off his thighs.
The light jeans he hadn’t worn in at least a year because there was a questionable stain that wouldn’t come out? Well, it would be dark in the bar, but no. He’d know about it.
The jeans he wore earlier that weren’t special but also weren’t bad? How would that help him get laid? No.
So he looked back the jeans in his hamper, ignoring Robin’s angry yelling from outside his door.
“Found them! Two minutes!”
He put on the jeans, hoping they didn’t smell or have any stains on them.
He ignored Robin as he threw on his coat that was hanging on the back of the couch and ignored the dull headache blossoming across his temples.
He opened the door and started to leave.
“You coming?” He asked over his shoulder, laughing when Robin smacked his arm as she passed by him.
“Don’t act like you’re waiting on me. I’ve been waiting on you for 30 minutes!”
They barely spoke on the way to the bar, Robin already sensing his headache and probably hoping the silence would make it better before the night got started.
She was amazing.
Steve couldn’t live without her.
But hopefully, they’d both find someone tonight. They needed it.
— — — —
Steve wasn’t having any luck. In fact, he’d never had worse luck.
His head was pounding at this point, music much louder than usual, more people crowded around his usual spot. The three men and one woman he’d danced with so far were fun, but not really his type. He’d been a little upset about seemingly wasting his time, but swallowed down the bitter feeling when he saw Robin dancing with the same girl for three songs, huge smile on her face.
At least one of them was getting something from tonight.
He stood at the far corner of the bar, trying to be out of the way as best he could. He needed to have some water, but he knew the bartender wouldn’t be pleased about getting pulled away from actual paying customers. He would wait for a lull and then get his attention.
It was a new guy, or at least one who didn’t normally work the shifts Steve was here. He was pretty.
There was no other way to describe him; long, curly hair, tattoos everywhere, wide Bambi eyes, tall and thin frame that still held hidden muscle. Steve’s dream, really.
Too bad his vision was getting blurry from the headache.
He had to reevaluate his plan and get water now before he went into full migraine territory. He couldn’t pull Robin away from her night just because he had to get home safely with a debilitating migraine.
He started trying to wave to the bartender anytime he looked over towards Steve’s end of the bar, but it didn’t work.
He tried yelling over the crowd and music, but it ended up making his head throb worse.
He finally managed to throw a napkin at him when he was standing a few feet away.
Not his finest moment, but he’d apologize when he had water.
The bartender looked over at him with raised brows.
“Need something?”
Steve couldn’t help the shame he felt about literally everything happening at that moment.
“Water please?”
The bartender nodded once and grabbed a cup to fill with ice and water. Steve felt some of his muscles relax knowing that he was going to be able to hydrate a little.
When he placed it in front of Steve, he slid a small cup of lemons with it.
“Squeeze a little in there. Helps with headaches.”
Steve knew he was looking at Eddie like the sun shone out of his ass. It would be embarrassing if he wasn’t so dreadfully miserable from the almost-migraine.
“Thanks.” Then he realized how shitty he must look if the bartender knew what was going on from just looking at him. “Wait. How’d you know?”
“My uncle gets them bad. He always gets pale and his eyes get bloodshot when one’s coming. You looked in the mirror lately?”
Steve shook his head, then winced at the way it made his head pound.
“You here with someone?”
“Yeah. She’s dancing.”
“Need me to have an announcement made for her?”
“No, let me drink this first.”
The bartender nodded, but Steve noticed he kept checking on him between serving other drinks to people.
Steve used more lemon than he probably should have, but he had a whole cup of it, and it couldn’t hurt to use more.
He rested his head against the wall next to him, wincing at the excessive vibrations from the music.
Normally, he loved that their hole in the wall bar got loud and fun once a week. Tonight, he wished he could be surrounded by silence.
He knew he was getting worse, but he didn’t want to bother Robin, who was still dancing with the same girl. She’d probably go home with her as long as Steve didn’t interrupt.
He felt a hand on his forehead, slowly brushing sweaty hair away. He tried opening his eyes, but even the small amount of light seeping through his eyelids was too much.
“Hey, I’m Eddie. I’m the bartender. My relief just walked in so I’m gonna help you to the back, okay?”
Steve could barely nod, the pain in his head throbbing down his jaw and neck. He reached his hand towards the voice and managed to make contact with Eddie. Hopefully, Eddie understood he was not gonna be able to do anything helpful at this point.
He felt an arm around his waist, guiding him away from the bar, but Steve still didn’t want to try opening his eyes. He had to trust Eddie.
He should’ve stayed home. He knew the dull pain he felt earlier would turn into worse, but he was so stuck on getting in bed with someone, he came anyway.
Eddie was walking slowly, keeping a firm grip on Steve so he wouldn’t jostle him around too much. Maybe if Steve weren’t getting his brain attacked by hammers and knives, he’d be trying to get Eddie in bed.
That thought came and went though as he realized how pitiful it was that a grown man couldn’t even walk himself home because he had a migraine.
Eddie would probably tell this incredibly embarrassing story to everyone here and laugh about it for weeks.
Steve was in and out of it for the next few minutes, unable to really focus on anything around him besides the warm hand on his hip. Despite being sweaty enough to wring water from his shirt, he still felt cold, shivers occasionally wracking his body.
This was a really bad one.
He was so stupid for being stuck in a bar for this.
His brain registered a door closing, then a fan turning on. It wasn’t completely silent, but the outside noise was a small echo in his brain compared to the banging it had been previously.
“Gonna set you on the couch in the corner and get some ice.”
Steve didn’t acknowledge him, but he let out the most ridiculous whimper when Eddie set him down on the couch, slowly laying him back so his whole body was flat. He heard the door open and close, but was so focused on how nice the air from the fan felt, he didn’t hear the door open and close when Eddie came back in.
“Alright, gonna put this on your head. Where’s it hurt?”
“Everywhere.”
Eddie sighed, but placed the bag of ice on his forehead to start.
“Get these often?”
Steve appreciated his very low voice, knowing that anything at a regular volume would probably be too much in this quiet room.
“Mhm.”
“I grabbed you more water too. Think you can have a sip?”
“Mm. No.”
He heard Eddie laughing quietly, but he couldn’t smile back at him.
“You live close?”
“Mhm. Mile.”
“I live closer.”
“Hm?”
“Welcome to my humble abode. I own the bar, work at the bar, and live at the bar. Technically this is the staff office, but upstairs is my bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom. If you think you can handle the stairs, you can sleep in my bed and I’ll take the couch. I’ll let your friend know you’re here too if you give me a name.”
“Steve.”
“Your friend’s name is Steve?”
“No. Mine.”
“Okay, what’s your friend’s name, Steve?”
“Robin.”
He tried opening his eyes so he could see his surroundings, but they were so heavy. Leave it to Steve to end up suffering with the worst migraine he’s had all year at a bar with a hot bartender taking care of him and he can’t even open his eyes to fully appreciate it.
He distantly heard the door again, but must’ve fallen asleep for a bit because the next thing he knew, he felt hands on his face.
“You’re sure he can stay here?”
“Robs?”
“Steve. You idiot. You should’ve told me it was getting worse.”
She was whispering, but she was angry with him and he knew she would be yelling if she was a worse friend.
“Sorry.”
“Eddie’s gonna handle it. I’m gonna take Chrissy home. You call me as soon as you’re up, got it? I’ll send the cops here to break down the doors if I don’t hear by lunch time tomorrow.”
“Got it.”
He was gonna forget, but hopefully Eddie would remind him.
When he had bad migraines, he pretty much forget everything he did or said. None of the doctors could explain it. He’d had scans done, and there were no signs of memory diseases, so it was just a part of the trauma from multiple concussions.
He could hear Robin telling Eddie the same thing. If he could make his face work, he’d probably smile.
He drifted again, but he could hear Robin still talking to Eddie as he did.
The next time he was fully aware, he was in a bed. The bed was huge, and there were so many pillows around him, it felt like a fort.
Two blankets were on top of him, one so soft he couldn’t help rubbing his cheek against it. He was surrounded by a cozy, light cologne smell.
He was also fully clothed.
His jeans were itchy, and he suddenly felt claustrophobic as he realized the sun was up and he was alone in a stranger’s bed.
He sat up and looked around.
The room itself wasn’t that big, the bed taking up most of the space. The door was closed, but he could hear someone moving around outside of it. He looked to the right to see a door that must lead to a bathroom.
He quickly got out of the bed, shoving his shoes on and grabbing his wallet off the table. He opened the door and saw the back of a man with long, curly hair.
The bartender.
Eddie.
Eddie had taken care of him during his migraine. His migraine that he should’ve known was coming and stayed the hell home.
He was an idiot.
When Eddie turned around, he felt his heart stop.
God, he was pretty.
Like, Steve might have to change up the nights he comes to the bar just to get a glimpse of this beautiful man.
“Hey. Feeling better? Must be since you’re standing without support.”
Steve blushed. He’d never been in this position before, and he had no idea what the proper etiquette is for thanking someone for taking care of you when you’re unable to even move or talk.
“Uh. Yeah, much better. Um.” Steve awkwardly stood by the counter while Eddie continued mixing coffee in a mug. “Thanks for. All that.”
Eddie was laughing. In another circumstance, Steve may have found it cute, maybe been proud of himself for making a hot guy laugh.
But he was dealing with a migraine hangover, which usually left him grumpy.
Eddie must’ve noticed because he stopped laughing abruptly.
His head tilted to the side as he looked Steve up and down.
“You know, Robin called four times already this morning to check on you. You should probably call her and let her know I didn’t murder you and hide the body already.”
“Okay. Yeah. I.” He felt around in his pockets and couldn’t feel his phone. Shit.
“Over there. Charging.” Eddie said as he pointed towards the table by his front door.
“Thanks.”
Steve walked over to his phone to see 33 missed calls from Robin.
He called her back immediately, not wanting her to actually show up with a SWAT team.
“Thank god! Steve, I told you to call by lunch. I was just about to call Hop.”
“You’re the one who left me here.”
“Yes, assuming you’d wake up early enough that I wouldn’t assume you’ve been murdered!”
“What time is it?”
“Almost 3:00, Steve!”
“Fuck. Okay. I’m leaving now.”
Eddie cleared his throat and nodded at the counter, which now had a plate of fried eggs, toast, bacon, and sausage on it.
“Okay I’m eating, then I’m leaving.”
“You better text me. I’ll show up with Hop!”
“Robin. Jesus.” Steve felt a bit lightheaded. “I am literally at the bar. You know where I am and who I’m with. Chill.”
“You were incapacitated.”
“And now I’m not. I can escape if I have to.”
“You’re not as strong as you think you are!”
He hung up before she kept going. She would stay on the phone for hours if he let her, and he wasn’t in the mood.
He made his way to the counter and sat down, smiling at the steaming food.
“You didn’t have to cook all this. Especially this late in the afternoon. You probably have to head down to the bar.”
“Nah. I own the place. I just work there to keep myself busy. I’m all yours until you’re good to go home.”
Steve didn’t have much of a response for that, his brain still firing on the bare minimum. Migraine hangovers were worse than actual hangovers.
He ate a few bites silently, then looked up to see Eddie setting a cup of tea in front of him.
“What’s this?”
“Technically, sleepy time tea. But it works really well for headaches.”
“Oh. Thanks. It won’t like, make me fall asleep?”
Eddie laughed and Steve decided he was happy to hear it now.
“No. It has relaxing properties to it, but it doesn’t actually make you drowsy.”
Steve took a few small sips and smiled.
“It’s good.”
“My uncle says I make the best.” Eddie leaned over the counter with a smile. “So, you thought going to a bar was a good idea with a headache? On our DJ night?”
“It wasn’t that bad when I left. Thought I’d be okay.”
“Mhm. So you get these a lot?”
“Well. I mean I do get migraines a lot. But that one was one of the worst I’ve had in a while. I can usually still talk and walk enough to get to my own bed.”
“Do you remember everything?”
Steve knew he had a lot of blank spots in his memory from last night. If Eddie wasn’t such a nice guy, he’d probably be more worried about it.
“No. I have memory problems when I get them.”
“Ah. Well that’s okay. I got you into bed pretty easily. You only woke up twice. Once to use the bathroom, which you managed to do alone. The second time you were crying about having to sleep alone? I couldn’t understand all of it, but that seemed to be the gist.”
“Oh.” Steve sighed. “That’s super embarrassing. Guess I’ll never come back here. Maybe never leave my house again.”
Eddie smirked. “I dunno. I think maybe I could fix the sleeping alone thing. You know, when you’re not incapacitated from a migraine.”
“You’re serious?”
Eddie nodded.
“You saw me like that and would actually want to be around me again?”
“I was hoping for more than around you. Maybe on you? In you? Next to you? All of those sound good.”
Steve choked on his next bite.
“Uh.”
He took a sip of the tea to help clear his throat, ignoring the way Eddie was moving around the counter.
“You know, Robin kept me on the phone for about an hour earlier, telling me all about how you’re the best guy she’s ever known and she’s a lesbian for a reason so that means a lot. Said you guys come here once a week because it’s the best place to find decent people, not just anyone. Said you’ve both had a bit of a dry spell.”
“She’s exaggerating.”
“Oh, so it hasn’t been eight months since you’ve taken someone home?”
“No.”
Eddie’s eyebrows raised in a challenge.
“It’s been ten.”
“My bar hasn’t been good to you, I guess.”
“Up until last night, I guess not. But I still prefer it over the clubs.”
“Until last night?”
“Yeah. The guy who owns the place kind of rescued me and let me sleep in his really comfy bed. He probably deserves something for that.”
“Oh? What does he deserve?”
“Well, I’d offer a blowjob, but I’m out of practice and might disappoint.”
“Somehow I doubt that.”
“But maybe he’d be okay with a real date?”
“When would this date be?”
“Maybe tonight?”
“Hm. He has to check the bar schedule, make sure no one needs coverage.”
“He can text me later to confirm.”
“I sure hope you’re giving me your number to do that.”
Steve laughed and held his hand out. Eddie placed his phone in his hand and waited for him to type his name and number in his contacts.
When Steve handed it back, their hands grazed each other. Eddie wrapped his fingers around Steve’s wrist, squeezing for a moment.
“Dinner here? Maybe 8?”
“I thought you had to check the schedule.”
“Nah, just needed your number. I make the schedule, I know it like the back of my hand.”
Steve shook his head.
“Can’t start a relationship on lies.”
“Oh, a relationship? You move quick don’t you.”
Steve did. He knew he did. It’s why he’d never been able to keep anyone around. He moved like he was ready for marriage on the first date, and usually people didn’t like that.
He looked down at his lap, already prepared to lose Eddie’s interest.
But he felt a hand on his cheek, slowly guiding him to look up.
“Dinner here at 8?”
“Uh. Yeah. Please.”
Eddie smirked at him before he placed a soft kiss on his lips.
“Just be yourself, Steve. I like you just fine. And I’ve already seen you at your worst and your crazy best friend. It’s all uphill from here.” Eddie pulled away and moved back to start cleaning dishes from his cooking. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll end up married by the end of the year.”
“Now you’re making fun of me.”
“Am I?”
Eddie looked over his shoulder, serious look on his face.
“Are you?”
“No. Stranger things have happened.”
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bradshawssugarbaby · 18 days
Text
Meet The Teacher - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
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summary: Bradley Bradshaw's re-entering civilian life with a new mission - teaching second grade.
a/n: thank you to @nerdgirljen for suggesting the idea with her breakdown of Bradley's military file, and thank you to @floydsmuse, @mamachasesmayhem, and @purelyfiction for reading this over for me last night 😅
pairing: teacher!Bradley Bradshaw x single mom!reader (last name is given to reader) warnings/content: mentions of trauma/injury, mentions of death/parent loss, Bradley pining for a student's mom, allusions to smut (masturbating (m)).
word count: 2.9k
taglist: @avengersfan25 @nouis-bum @sorchathered @hangmansgbaby @sarahsmi13s @jessicab1991 @atarmychick007 @b-bradshaw @djs8891 @primroseluna @silversprings-mp3 @drxgxnslxyer @gardenavenue @seitmai @unhinged-bitch @mattyskies
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“You’ve got this, Bradshaw. You’ve got this. It’s just two dozen second graders. You’ve flown fighter jets and stared enemy aircraft in the eye, shot them down midair, you can handle a classroom of second graders.” 
Bradley repeated his mantra over and over in the rearview mirror of his car, taking a deep breath as he nodded his head. He adjusted the collar on his baby blue and white striped dress shirt, fingers tracing over the silver chain of his dog tags. His breath hitched in his throat as he ran his fingertip over the beaded chain, letting it out in a strained sigh. He was venturing into uncharted waters here, and he was beginning to wonder if he was in over his head. 
Six months ago, he was flying planes, one of the US Navy’s finest aviators. He’d never cared much about what he could have been doing if he hadn’t become a pilot - he’d known as long as he could remember that he wanted to fly. Since his accident though, he began to process all the things he’d let himself miss out on over the past 18 years. At 40 years old, he knew he was pushing his body to its limits, but he didn’t think he’d reached that threshold yet. 
He was wrong. 
It’d been a routine flight exercise, the kind he’d done about 40,000 times before in his career. His plane’s engine cut out, a mechanical failure beyond anyone’s control that couldn’t have been predicted. He kept his composure, pulled the ejection handle and parachuted his way to the ground below. In an ideal situation, he would have landed perfectly, safe and sound and taken to the hospital for observation but released the next day. 
Instead, he’d blown his knee out on his landing, making walking next to impossible, let alone flying. 
Presented with his options, returning to flying seemed unlikely. His knee would only likely get worse, and he realized, he sort of liked the idea of settling down someday — he knew forty was a little late in life to realize it, but damn it, he did want a family. He didn’t want to be that dad who couldn’t keep up with his kid. He wanted to be an active, fun parent like he’d remembered his mom being in her lifetime. He wanted to be able to dance with his new bride at his wedding, if it ever happened, and he couldn’t do any of that if his knee was fucked beyond repair. 
Dreams of coaching Little League and dancing around kitchens in the soft, yellow glow of overhead lights had suddenly flashed before him in his hospital room, and when the proposition of an honourable discharge came up, an offer absolving him of any guilt for abandoning his post in the pursuit of a civilian little fairytale life, he seized it. He loved flying, but he knew he couldn’t do it forever, despite his best efforts. He needed something to fall back on. And if these hopes and dreams suddenly crossing his mind — having a wife and a family, being a doting dad — were to come true, he needed to start somewhere.
Bradley always swore he’d never leave a wife and family behind. He’d seen what happened when a service member didn’t come home first hand - his dad was killed in a training incident when he was just over two years old, and he’d seen how his whole world turned on its side when it happened. Even as a toddler, he remembered a lot of crying from his mother, and suddenly noticing a huge absence in his life that couldn’t be explained. 
He didn’t understand what happened until he turned five, when he finally worked up the courage to ask his mom where his dad was. Why he left. Why he didn’t want to be home with Bradley. The moment he was old enough to decide his career path, he knew he wouldn’t be able to put a wife and children through the things he and his mom had been through. He was better off alone if he was serving. And it suited him just fine for the most part. The odd pang of jealousy when a colleague got married, the occasional feeling that he was missing out on something each time someone he knew announced the arrival of a new baby — they were easy enough to ignore when he focused his attention on his work.
Now, sitting in his parked car, an hour before the start of the school year, he was talking himself through how to survive his first day in his chosen back-up profession — teaching. 
He’d minored in education studies at university when he went. He’d promised his mother when he was applying to colleges that he’d pick a good back-up option to flying, just in case he didn’t get into the academy, and everyone knew he was great with kids. He’d often babysat for his mom’s friends, volunteered to coach softball teams and run summer camps at the community centre throughout high school. Teaching seemed like a no-brainer.
He let out a heavy sigh as he strolled into the school, his head held high, lesson plans tucked neatly in a file folder under his arm, his coffee cup in the other hand. He was ready to face the day, and whatever these seven-year-olds had to throw at him.
The day went on without a hitch, much to Bradley’s relief. Twenty-three little darlings sat in their desks, on their best behaviour for their first day of class. He knew it was unlikely that they’d continue to be so well-behaved, but he savoured it while it lasted. His co-workers seemed laidback and relaxed, friendly smiles and waves exchanged frequently in passing, words of advice and encouragement spoken at length over lunch and prep times. 
Three o’clock came faster than anticipated, and Bradley felt like he’d barely covered any of his plans for the day. At dismissal, he’d politely waved goodbye to each and every child, introducing himself to the parents he’d missed that morning at drop off, and greeting the ones he’d already met with brief updates about their child’s day. The last child to be picked up was a sweet little boy, with blonde hair and hazel eyes, freckles dotted across the bridge of his nose. Bradley’s brown eyes scanned over the attendance record in his hand. Wells Montgomery. 
At 3:10, Wells had grown bored of kicking his soccer ball around the grassy area around the side of the school. He picked his ball up under his arm and hurried back to Bradley. 
“Mr. Bradshaw, is my mom here yet?” 
“Not yet, bud. She’s probably stuck in traffic coming over the bridge into town. You know, it gets really busy around now. Do you want to come inside and read for a little bit in the classroom?” Bradley squinted, the sun shining brightly into his eyes as he scanned the parking lot for anyone who might be Wells’ mother. 
“Ok,” Wells said with a heavy sigh. Bradley furrowed his brow for a moment before looking back to Wells as the two of them headed back into the building. 
By 3:20, Bradley was beginning to worry about his new pupil. He didn’t anticipate a parent going missing-in-action on him on his first day of teaching, but faced with the possibility, he began going through the list of possible actions he could take. Just as he pondered over the idea of taking Wells down to the staff room to rummage the cupboards for a still-at-school-after-school snack, you came practically flying through the door, a panicked expression on your face, cheeks reddening when you saw Wells sitting at his desk, quietly reading. 
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I got held up in a meeting until 2:45, and then traffic was a nightmare, everything was backed up and there’s only two ways onto the island but I couldn’t ditch my car to take the ferry over, I’m so sorry,” you apologized profusely, nodding your head as you looked from Wells, to the teacher seated in the desk and back again, unsure who you needed to apologize to more.
Bradley turned to face you, his eyes raking over you as he assessed the situation. Dressed in a fitted lilac coloured pencil skirt, white tank-top and matching lilac coloured blazer, you looked like something out of a dream to him. He’d never given much thought about what his type in women was before. He’d dated blondes, brunettes, redheads, the occasional girl with bright pink hair, curvy girls, petite girls, mid-sized girls - he never had much of a preference one way or the other as far as appearances went, but God, if he had to sum up his dream girl right now - you were it. 
“It’s alright, honestly,” Bradley nodded his head, smiling warmly at you in an effort to ease your concerns. “I’m Mr. Bradshaw, Wells’ teacher for second grade. He’s had a great day today, we were just about to head down to the staff room and see if there were any rogue granola bars hiding in the cupboard for him and I to share.”
“Thank you,” you nodded, your expression softening as Bradley spoke, an instant wave of relief washing over you. “You ready to go, Wellsy?” 
“Mom, please,” Wells whined, shaking his head as he grabbed his book and shoved it into his backpack. “She thinks I’m a baby,” he griped, turning to Bradley for a sympathetic smile.
“Moms, huh? Mine was the same way with me.” Bradley laughed softly, waving as you and Wells headed out.
Later that night, Bradley sat on his couch, settling in to watch a baseball game as he poured over the plans for the upcoming week. Cracking open his beer bottle, he sipped the drink, sighing tiredly as he read over the social studies plan, visiting the list of important historical figures he was expected to familiarize the class with over the course of the school year. With one hand, shakily written notes were made in a notebook, scribbling out ideas for fun ways to engage the kids with each important person he was required to introduce. 
Setting the beer down on a coaster, he exchanged it for a slice of greasy pizza, his reward for himself at the end of a successful first day of school. He shovelled it into his mouth, sighing as he watched the baseball game unfold. The Padres were down 3-7 in the bottom of the eighth, with not much hope left for them to pull through tonight. Bradley swallowed his mouthful, brushing the grease off his hands onto the leg of his grey sweatpants.
Bradley yawned, tired bleary eyes blinking as he padded down the hallway to his bedroom. He sighed softly and settled into bed, his mind wandering as his head rested on the pillow. Before he realized it, you were on his mind. He’d thought about you a lot that evening, brief intrusions of your smile flashing through his mind as he tried to plan out the upcoming week. 
This time though, as he laid there looking up at his ceiling, he thought about your apologies for being late, how it felt like you were pleading with him or Wells to not be upset with you. He thought about how your hair, although tousled from clearly running through parking lots to your car and to the school, framed your face perfectly, and how even in the harsh fluorescent lighting of the classroom, you managed to look nothing short of beautiful. 
He thought about how well the soft, purple hue of your skirt and blazer suited you, bringing out the glow of your skin and the colour of your eyes. He thought about how it hugged your curves as you left, hand in hand with Wells, the swish of your hips as you walked down the hallway. He thought about how he was pretty sure he didn’t see a wedding band on your finger, but also admonished himself for even checking. He couldn’t date a student’s parent. He knew better than that. 
But still, he couldn’t help but think about you. 
The next couple of weeks went by and Bradley’s interest in you grew fonder. He’d begun watching for you subtly at morning drop-offs and pick-ups, hoping to at least say hello once a day. On the last Friday of the month, you stopped him as he headed for his car, watching as Wells played on the playground equipment facing the parking lot.
“Mr. Bradshaw!” you called out, and Bradley couldn’t help but feel like you were making his name sound like a chorus of angels singing. 
“Hey, Mrs. Montgomery! Is everything ok?” Bradley asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Everything’s fine, yes,” you nodded, smiling as you gently corrected him about your name. You hadn’t been Mrs. Montgomery in two years, but, you couldn’t fault Bradley for slipping up, you knew the school secretary likely didn’t alert him ahead of time. You stifled a giggle as Bradley’s cheeks flushed red with embarrassment, now his turn to apologize profusely to you.
You waved a hand dismissively and smiled, turning to watch Wells play once again. 
“You know, it may have only been a few weeks, but Wells speaks very highly of you,” you started, nodding in confirmation as you watched him play, your gaze turning to land on Bradley for a moment, “He hasn’t been this interested in anything since his dad moved across the country.” 
“Oh? I’m glad I could help him enjoy school again. I try my best to keep things fun and exciting in the classroom — kids learn better when they’re excited and interested in something. No one has fun being read to from a textbook over and over again all day,” Bradley explained.
“Well, Mr. Bradshaw, you’re doing a really good job of it. He came home excited to tell me that he learned about George Washington yesterday. I’m pretty sure two days ago he had no idea who that was.”
“Please,” Bradley laughed softly, shaking his head, “You can call me Bradley. It’s less formal.”
“Bradley,” you repeated, nodding as you chuckled to yourself, “Bradley Bradshaw?”
“My dad had a sense of humour,” Bradley shrugged, looking out at the playground as Wells chased one of his friends around. “He’s a good kid, you know. Wells.”
“I know, I’m proud of how well he’s handling things now that his dad got relocated. Pensacola’s a lot further than he anticipated. He was hoping for Corpus Christi at least.”
Bradley’s ears piqued at the mention of Wells’ dad relocating. Pensacola and Corpus Christi both housed Naval Air bases, he was more than familiar with both of them. He’d only ever been stationed between Oceana, Miramar and North Island, but in his eighteen years of service, he’d met plenty of service members who hailed from one of the two bases originally. 
“Wells’ dad is a pilot?”
“Mhmm, well, mechanic, actually. He doesn’t fly them in combat,” you commented, raising an eyebrow at Bradley. “You seemed to guess that really well. Most people don’t guess pilot.”
“I used to be a Naval pilot, m’am,” he nodded, smiling proudly as he thought about his accomplished Naval career once again. “Lieutenant Commander Bradley Bradshaw, US Naval Air Force. I was stationed at NAS Oceana, transferred here to North Island, wrecked my knee, now I’m a teacher.” 
“That’s quite the pipeline into teaching, Lieutenant Commander.”
“Please, it’s Bradley. It’s nice not going by my rank, actually.” 
“Well, Bradley, I’d love to hear how exactly you landed on teaching second grade as a backup to flying F/A-18s for the United States Navy some day.” You nodded, hoping Bradley wouldn’t take offence to the suggestion of getting together at some point. Even if it was just as friends, you’d welcome it.
“That sounds like a good idea to me, actually. I’d love to.”
As Bradley headed to his car, he felt a little bounce in his step. He couldn’t help himself. Even if this just turned into a friendship and nothing more, he felt grateful that you wanted to spend time getting to know him better. 
His drive home was filled with more thoughts of you, thoughts of your pretty pastel coloured outfits you always seemed to favour, thoughts of your perfect smile, always beaming and cheerful, bright enough to brighten his entire day in a way that should make the sun jealous, thoughts of your hair, how it always looked so perfectly imperfect. 
In bed that night, Bradley thought about your legs, how they were long and lean, curving at your thigh. He thought about how good your ass looked in your skirt earlier today, how the material hugged it tightly. He thought about your thighs, how they looked so perfectly smooth and soft, how your plain white t-shirt that was tucked into your skirt did little to hide the swell of your breasts, and the way the curve of your neck looked irresistible, how badly he wanted to plant his lips on your skin and cover you in a trail of kisses. 
Bradley thought about you in a lot of ways that night. None of them were ways he was proud of. But as he stared up at the ceiling this time, you were the only thing on his mind. He didn’t know much about how he’d go about this newfound infatuation with you. All he knew was that if he was going to settle down with anyone, he was almost positive it would be with you. 
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nookisms · 2 months
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Today's compilation is just headcanons!
Masterpost
Originally for the gender/sexuality ones I was going to put them over the flags but I decided that would get overbearing so instead you get a pair of aroace MK and DMK icons for you and your worstie 🧡
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milkywaydrabbles · 7 months
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28 kinktober rindou <3 <3 <3 also LOVE YOUR WRITING SM OMG
A/N: So it turns out I like Rindou a normal amount and am completely normal about him. Here's 2.2k of smut phew. I hope you enjoy this lil thing! MWUAH
Panties & Lingerie x Rindou
You never really asked for much.
Rindou noticed this early on into the relationship. 
He was so used to girls always asking for the finest clothes, jewelry, straight up money--he stopped dating for a while, tired of them simply using him for materialistic desires. Anyone he did see, was short lived, a few fucks here and there. He knew it wouldn’t last too long. His brother would pat his back, telling him to loosen up--that giving girls what they wanted wasn’t a bad thing, they’d be more loyal to him. But his way of thinking was different than the rest of Bonten. Sure, he used to just want to fuck around, kick somebody’s ass, taunt others. But as he grew older, he realized he wanted someone. A person who really wanted to be with him, and not because he had power and money. The dating scene really was exhausting.
But then he met you. 
And you smiled at him so genuinely, so shyly, so sweetly. Rindou nearly fell for you right then and there. He found himself wanting to buy you anything you asked for: except the problem was you didn’t ask for anything. Even on your first date, you were so sure in your decision to split the bill, something he thought was just you talking shit, trying to deceive him. Until you actually did split the bill with him and a smile plastered on your face. Shit. He didn’t want you paying for shit after that. Any time he took you out, the card would be in the wait staff’s hand before you even ordered, the bill never coming out to the table. You’d get so huffy, telling him to ‘stop fucking doing that’, and that you could ‘pay for stuff too, I want to Rin!’. 
He wasn’t going to let you, but it was cute attempt. 
So imagine his surprise, that after months of dating, and months of begging you just to take his fucking card, that one day you actually did take it. He blinked, surprised when you plucked the black card from his hands, looking around embarrassed. You promised him you wouldn’t go overboard, but you just had some things you wanted to buy, a nice surprise you said. His shocked look slowly morphed into a cheshire grin, gripping your jaw and planting a wet kiss on your lips. 
“Max the whole fucking thing out baby.”
-
Rindou’s day was long, and he was ready to finally go back home to his baby. (Thuggin’ it out was hard, you know.) When he walked through the doors of his condo, he immediately called out to you. “Baby, I’m home.” 
“In here, Rin!” 
It didn’t take long for him to make his way to his room, loosening the tie he had worn for the day and removing his blazer, ready to dump it on the bed. “You have no idea how fucking annoying they were today, babe, it was--” Rindou immediately shut his mouth, catching you on the bed in the nicest piece of lingerie he thinks he’s ever seen in his life. You sat yourself so pretty on the edge of the bed, makeup and hair done up, just for him, leg crossed over the other. “Hi baby.” You cooed, giving him a sultry smile.
The surprise you had been talking about was doing a bit of shopping at a famous lingerie boutique. You think you knew Rindou well enough to know what kind of pieces would get him going--you were spot on. You were covered in black straps and harnesses, mesh pieces with dragon appliques embroidered in the see through fabric. God, you were gorgeous, the woman of his wildest fucking dreams come true. 
Rindou stalked over to you, dropping the blazer haphazardly on the ground. Your hand pulled at his skewed tie, down until he landed on his knees, having to look just just slightly now that he was on his knees. “What’s all this?” He mumbled, hands traveling from your thighs to your hips to your waist, and trailing back down. “I decided to take you up on your offer and use your card--do you like it?” You teasing little shit, biting onto your lower lip to hide your smirk. You knew he loved it, more than anything. You knew exactly what got him going, and something like this had him rock down the second he saw you. He nodded, barely paying attention when he looked down at your chest, trailing his hands up to cup your tits, thumbs running over your nipples through the mesh, fingers dipping under the harnesses and tugging just light enough to feel the material. You uncrossed your legs, opening them wide so he can take a look at the crotchless panties that had you exposed fully to him. You were driving him insane.
“Fuck, baby...” He let out a shaky breath, hands squeezing at your inner thighs, creeping closer to your cunt, thumbing your lips apart to see your pretty little whole. You scooted closer to the edge, tugging at his tie again to raise him closer to your face. Wordlessly, your other hand grabbed onto his jaw tight, palm resting on his throat. Rindou was enamored with you, loving how you could take control and not going overboard. He fucking loved how quickly you would give him the reigns too, if he wanted them. His mouth opened, knowing what would come next--your tongue lolling out with a glob of saliva dripping from the tip, landing in his mouth. You licked at the roof of his mouth before kissing him fully, His dick twitched in his pants, squeezed at your inner thigh, before two fingers slid between your wet folds, teasing. Your legs spread open a bit more, letting go of his tie and looking at him expectantly. You didn’t need to ask a thing of this man, Rindou immediately dipping his head to between your thighs, kissing and suckling at your skin leaving love bites in their wake. “You’re fucking driving me insane, pretty..” He moaned feeling your hand grip at his hair, tugging at the roots. “Fuck, look at you..” He looked up at your body one last time, taking in the full lingerie set and how sexy you looked at him, perfectly put together while he was a mess on his knees for you. 
“Did you miss me today, Rindou?” You teased, smirking when his fingers dug deeper into your skin. “‘Course I did, beautiful, fuck.” He kept your thighs open as he dove deep into your cunt, pressing his face as deep as you’d let him. He moaned, the taste of your juicy pussy hitting his buds drove him crazy. He gripped onto the harnesses around your thighs as he ate you like a starving man, tongue fucking into you, licking and sucking at your clit. He left you messy, practically slobbering on you, cunt wet with your juices and his spit. You bucked into his face, head thrown back as you panted, tugging his hair until it hurt--he didn’t care, all he could feel was how hard his cock was and how fucking good you tasted. You looked down at him with your eyes hazy and lips parted, still looking so perfect above him. He took the chance of tracing his hands up to your tits, squeezing and pinching, which only spurred you on more. You humped at his face, riding his tongue as he flicked your swollen clit, but you needed more.
“Rin, baby,” you stared, the domineering mask crackled the closer you got to your orgasm. “Fuck, use your fingers baby, please.” He moaned against your cunt, leaving a wet kiss on your clit before slipping two fingers into your sloppy hole with ease. “Look at your fucking pussy just sucking in my fingers, so messy.” He panted, curling his fingers up and fucking you hard. Your wetness squirted around his hand, covering his fingers in a creamy white while he assaulted your cunt. You cried out, slowly your mascara ran down your cheeks. You pulled harshly at his hair to bring him up to your face, kissing him with all tongue and teeth--moaning into his mouth as he continued to pummel you with his fingers. You rode his fingers, legs shaking and pushing open “F-fuck!” You gasped into his mouth, “Just like that, Rinnie, fuck, just like that.” Your mouth hung open, forehead against his and eyes scrunched closed. You couldn’t help but moan like a wanton whore, as he kissed around your face and kept fucking into you. “Give it to me, baby, fucking give it to me.” He urged, hearing your cries and whimpers as you came on his hand, gushing on him and leaving his hand soaked. You let go of his hair as he slowed down, fingers slipping out of your warmth only to shove them into your mouth, looking at you with dilated eyes as you gagged around his digits. He mirrored your earlier actions, standing up hover over you, forcing you to look up at him with pleading eyes. A hand grabbed at your jaw, much like you did with him, and pried your mouth open as he spat right down your throat. Your eyes fluttered, clawing at his pants when he leaned down to give you a kiss. 
Suddenly he tugged at the choker you had been wearing, dragging you onto your hands and knees on the bed and unbuckling his pants with one hand. “Come on baby, want you choking on my cock.” His voice held authority, and you helped him the rest of the way, cock fat and heavy in your hands. You wasted no time, taking him into your mouth nearly all the way until you were gagging and sputtering around his dick, spit bubbles along the side of your mouth. He collected your hair in his hand like a makeshift ponytail, controlling your speed and how deep you took him. “Fuck! Mouth is so fucking good, baby, love you like this.” He wiped a stray tear from your eye, smudging your makeup a bit more in the process. He grinned wicked, loving the way you lost yourself on his cock, how messy you looked--perfect makeup now a fucking mess as you choked on him. His eyes raked over your body, still wearing the perfect lingerie and harness set, seeing the edges of the leather where it met your skin digging in, rubbing it raw and red. How fucking sexy it would be after taking it off, the combination of its friction and his hands and mouth leaving bruises on your body.
He fucked your face with vigor, your hands clawing at his still clothed stomach, trying your best to keep your breathing even. But all he could hear were your gurgles with each thrust into your throat, slipping out just to see the strings of drool connecting you to him, bubbling in your mouth. You pursed your lips, rubbing them along the length of his cock, tip landing between your eyes and keeping you absolutely messy. Rindou almost came on your face right then and there with how good you looked. He grabbed the back of your harness and threw you down onto the mattress, smacking down hard on your ass to hear how you cried out with the mix of pleasure and pain. “Can’t believe you got a set with crotchless panties..” He panted, rubbing himself against your lips, leaving you waiting. “My pretty slutty little baby wanted easy access didn’t you? Wanted me to be able to fuck you right away, right?” You whined, nodding and pushing back on his cock, hoping his head would catch your clenching hole and slip in.
Rindou laughed breathlessly, hands running up and down your sides, slapping your ass a few times before grabbing hold of the straps that wrapped around your ass and pulling you back, plunging his thick cock right into you, leaving his flush with your ass. “Rindou!” You practically screamed, one hand ripping the choker and holding your head down to the mattress while the other never let go of the straps. 
“Gotta fuck you good, pretty girl,” He started, pounding relentlessly into your pussy, your cum frothy with the force of his thrusts, coating him “Gotta show--fuck--my appreciation of this set--shit, pussy’s so good” Rindou was lost in pleasure, pulling you back to meet his thrusts, balls slapping against your clit with each thrust. You gripped at the sheets, clawing at anything you could get your hands on while your eyes rolled to the back of your head with how good he was making you feel. 
Your slutty hole tightened around him, sure sign that you were going to cum again. He released his grip on your choker to pull you back full force onto his cock by the straps, tip of his dick pushing against your cervix. The pain mixed with pleasure brought you over the edge, crying and screaming while you squirted on his lower body, trying with all your might to close your legs but he wouldn’t let you. “Come on, you can take this big cock can’t you baby?” He taunted, though it was weakened with how close he was now. “Fuck, gonna cum baby, gonna cover this pretty set, gonna make you mine.” He babbled, pulling out at the last minute and shooting his heavy load onto your ass and back, covered the mesh material and straps. You collapsed onto the bed, feeling him loosen up the harness enough to slip it off you and wiping you lean, wrapping his arms around your body.
“Baby.” He nuzzled into you
“Hmm..” You smooched his forehead.
“I need you to start using my card more often.” Ugh
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dfortrafalgar · 1 month
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Watching You In The Morning
Inspired by “Watching You In The Morning” by Waltzin
Law x Fem Reader
Warnings: fluff, kinda poetic? more narrative study than plot, more fluff
Also posted on AO3
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In.
Out.
In.
Out.
The rise and fall of your chest was a perfect metronome, as if you were dancing along to the patter of raindrops as they fell against the submersible’s porthole.  In your deep, whimsical slumber, you would never even know of the romantic waltz your very presence exuded upon the man in the bed next to you.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
Slow, methodical.  His tattooed fingers dusted fleetingly across the skin of your neck, reaching out to you with reserve, with apprehension, with want.  He felt himself smile, chapped lips tugging ever so slightly at his cheeks at the sight of your serenity, lost in the haze of your dreams.  You were truly beautiful.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
He could watch your breathing forever.  He could die at the crevice of your chest, just to know that you were still inhaling and exhaling, inhaling and exhaling.  To know that you were alive, that your flesh was warm with your blood, that your nerves could feel his hands against your skin, was plenty for him.  He forever worshiped the ground you walked on, relishing in your every moment.  Every word you spoke, every blink of your eyes, curve of your smile, every time your perfect hand fit snugly into his like a statue carved from the finest marble.
His calloused fingers traced invisible lines up your neck, towards your jaw, barely touching you enough to feel the slight fuzz of your natural facial hair.  He ghosted across your dimpled skin, absorbing the heat you radiated, memorizing every cell he could touch.  His eyes darted toward your lips, parted ever so slightly to breathe.
In.
Out.
When his slate-gray eyes looked back up toward yours, you were also looking back at him.  You blinked in slow motion, eyes heavy with the waning of your slumber.  You grinned at him, a sight that made the cold man’s heart do pierrouets, fluttering below his ribcage.  Any more unbridled affection towards him would make his chest rip open in a flood of snow-white doves.
With exhaustion on your tongue, voice crackling without being used, you spoke.  “Were you watching me?”
His fingers retraced their steps along your skin, landing at your collarbones where he mimicked the line of your bone.  “How could I not?”
You laughed.  A sound so bright, so warm, almost too warm.  A sound that made his body lighter, his hair stand on end.  A sound that filled his senses with yellow and violet hues, that smelled like peaches and lavender, that engulfed him in a sweet embrace of a hearth’s heat.  Your laugh made the walls he had spent a decade building up crumble with vigor, chips of glass falling to the ground and shattering into irreparable pieces.
Pieces that he was starting to think did not need to be repaired.
He adjusted his body with the motion of you shuffling closer to him, nestling yourself perfectly in the crevice of his shoulder, his arms around your body, secure and safe.  He smelled of cedar and ethanol, a faint tinge of gasoline and the essence of sugar.  You melted like butter in his hold, paralyzed in his arms, a willing prisoner of his presence.  You felt his chest rise and fall with his shallow breaths.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
Your own air tickled the skin of his breast, tiny, gentle feathers in a spring breeze.  Your fingers crawled along his side before looping your arm under his and pulling your body ever closer.  Oh how you wished you could break the universe for just one moment, to part his atoms and truly become one with him.  Even just a zeptosecond would be enough.
“If you keep thinking this hard, you might blow a fuse.”  His low voice rumbled against your head.
“How did you know?” you responded, voice light and airy, lovestruck and dumb.
He released a chuckle from his throat.  “I just had a feeling.”
Silence once again fell over the two of you.  Save for the continuous rain that fell, a faded noise in the backdrop of the aura he surrounded you with.  Washing away all worries, all fears.
“Can we stay like this forever?”
The question surprised you.  It wasn’t like him to ask such silly, menial queries.  Ever the pessimist, ever the analytical scientist.  He lived for the truth of the world and the facts of life.  He had you for the optimism and the joy for life that he lacked, a perfect balance.  The Yang to his Yin.
You simply hummed.  Tilting your head up to meet his eyes, you felt your blood rush to your face like a flame.  “Forever.”
His arms squeezed you once, then twice.  He sighed, melancholy.  The rain continued to fall, the vessel continued to sway monotonously on the surface of the vast, open ocean, but you stayed anchored to his bed, to his sheets, in his unmoving arms.
He smiled again.  “Thank you.”
No response was followed, and no response was needed.  Your breaths fanning against his skin were more than enough.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
164 notes · View notes
kitten4sannie · 1 year
Text
19 - ᴅᴏᴜʙʟᴇ ᴘᴇɴᴇᴛʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ - ʏᴜɴʜᴏ/ꜱᴀɴ
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ꜱʜᴀʀɪɴɢ ɪꜱ ᴄᴀʀɪɴɢ
pairing: vampire! yunho x witch! reader (fem) x werewolf! san
genre: fantasy au, smut, a little baby pinch of humor 🤏🏼
summary: you teach your bickering boyfriends to get along with a fun group activity.
w.c: 3.5k
warnings: poly relationship (it’s a work in progress), mxm, dom! yunho, dom! san, sub! reader, olfactophilia, pet names, name calling, degradation, praise, lots of spit involved (surprise, surprise), oral (receiving), breeding kink, slight bulge kink, fingering, kissing, double penetration in both holes (unprotected), creampies
a/n: after i finished typing this up it was like niagara falls in this bitch 😵‍💫 jshdgdhd so it’s safe to say i might’ve actually gone insane this time <3
FFF Masterlist
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As a witch attending a magic academy, it was only natural that you’d encounter supernatural beings of all kinds. Ones that were bigger and stronger than you. More powerful and a lot more equipped when it came to spell casting. Despite this, you felt like you knew enough about the dark arts to take care of yourself. Whether it came to emotional conflict or actual threats of danger, you could handle it without issues. Though things became difficult in a way you never anticipated.
Halfway through the semester, you decided to open yourself up to two new lovers, ones that were having a hard time getting along — though it was sort of expected. One was a ravenous, moody werewolf and the other was a haughty, refined vampire. They were like night and day. Their clans were mortal enemies, only tolerating each other because they weren't allowed to break the strict laws that were enforced throughout the land, or else they faced governmental punishment. Maybe you didn’t think it all the way through, but then again, you were happy and so were they, but they just needed a little help adjusting to each other.
Lazing around in the unmade bed of your rowdy, rambunctious boyfriend, you buried your face into one of his pillows, inhaling his comforting scent. Strong accents of warm spiced cinnamon entered your system, along with the musky-sweet smell of leaves. He must’ve been rolling around in the woods near the academy again. How cute of him. You slowly turned over to look at the door when you heard a voice that was too light and sultry to be his.
“There you are, Darling.” Yunho sighed, stepping past the open dorm door, taking three large strides across the room, already near your side and running his long, cold fingers up the side of your bare figure. “Why are you at this clan’s house instead of mine?” His nose scrunched up for a second, not used to the musk of werewolf dens. “You said that you were coming to see me today.” 
“Hey, Yunnie.” When he sat down on the bed, you reached up to run your fingers up his perfectly ironed, gold-laced button up blazer, unbuttoning the first button to see his chest peak out underneath. “I was going to, but San wanted me to stay longer. He just had a collar delivered, and he wanted me to see it.” 
Yunho’s friendly disposition soured at the mention of the werewolf, watching you unbutton the second and third button on his top, but not acknowledging it. “Once that mutt is done with his little show and tell, you’ll come to my dorm so I can have you to myself, alright?” 
“You have to learn to share, baby...” Just as you were going to express your disapproval of the word ‘mutt’, someone beat you to it. 
“Mutt?” San stood in the doorway, his large canines already on display for Yunho to see. Not wasting a single second, he slammed the door behind him, pounced on the bed behind you and pulled your body back against his broad bare chest, his muscular arms wrapping protectively around you. “You come into my clan’s home unannounced looking like an undead Englishman, insult me, then you try to steal my Y/N? Are you trying to die?!” 
 “Undead Englishman? This is made of the finest material a dog like you could only dream of wearing.” Yunho scoffed, rolling his bright crimson eyes at the other male, still not saying anything when you continued to unbutton his blazer. 
“Call me a dog again,” San threatened in a raspy voice, leaning over your naked body to growl in Yunho’s face, his golden irises forming into slits. “Say it so I can see if you can still talk after I rip your vocal cords out of your throat.” 
Wanting to prevent a catastrophic fight from breaking out, you reached up towards San, playing with the shiny new leather collar that adorned his freckled neck. “Sannie, this is so cute! You look so handsome with your new collar~” 
San’s large black ears flattened slightly into his wild raven hair, his anger melting away within seconds. “Handsome?” he questioned, slowly lowering himself onto the bed, his half-clothed body pressing into yours, nuzzling your neck with the side of his head. “Do you really mean that? 
You ran your fingers through his hair, stroking the tip of one of his ears, causing him to let out a low whine, his tail wagging a bit. “Of course, silly…You’re my very handsome boy~” 
“Yay,” San murmured softly, a light blush forming on his angular cheekbones, his fluffy tail wrapping around one of your thighs. “I’m Y/N’s handsome boy, Yunho. Not you.” He stuck his tongue out at the vampire, ears twitching slightly, feeling more playful than bloodthirsty.  
“Sannie, baby, Yunho’s handsome too. Try to get along with him, okay? Can you do that for me?” you asked in a gentle voice, pressing your lips to San’s neck just above the collar and stroking his velvety tail, making him nod and whine again, sounding more needy. 
Yunho chuckled, taking one of your hands and running his thumb over your knuckles. “That’s all it takes, huh? What a simple creature.” 
You turned your head to shoot the vampire a fiery look, gritting your teeth. “Yunho, don’t start that up. Or else.” 
“Or else, what, my lovely plaything?” the vampire asked in a low tone, undoing the last button on his blazer and sliding it off, his chiseled porcelain body now on display.
“I’m surprised he’s not sparkling like in that one movie you showed me a couple weeks back,” San murmured into your ear, making you hold a finger up to his lips to shush him. 
Not caring to listen to the werewolf’s comment, Yunho laid down on the bed to press himself against your bare backside, his half-hard cock against your ass and his lips near your ear. “Or else what, princess? Or else you won’t let me fuck you until you’re too dick-drunk to function?” He feigned a small pout, nudging your neck with his nose and running his fangs across it, trying to ignore how much San marked you that particular night. “I thought you loved that.”
Taking notice of Yunho’s scent, which was giving off strong notes of oak aged vanilla, with small hints of citrus, you licked your lips and slowly exhaled when he just barely punctured your neck with his fangs. You didn’t bother stopping him from sliding a hand past your hip and in between your legs, allowing him to brush his fingers over your clit. “If you don’t stop being mean to San, I’ll put a spell on you that’ll make you hard forever…” 
“Mm, but you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Darling?” he returned, licking the blood that dribbled from your neck, causally slapping San’s hand away when he tried to play with your pussy as well, causing him to growl. “You’d let me fuck you day in and day out, wouldn’t you?” 
Leaning your head back and turning Yunho’s jaw to face you, you pressed kisses along his jaw, replying, “Only if you learn to share your plaything.” When he licked his lips, you grabbed the vampire’s hand to keep it still, allowing San to slip two large fingers inside you to scissor them apart, then quickly pump them in and out. “Yeah, that’s it, Sannie, just like that. Good boyyyy,” you addressed your other boyfriend, giggling at the werewolf’s toothy grin, his tail thumping against the mattress from your praise. Acknowledging Yunho’s twitching fingers, you let his hand go, looking down to watch their hands begin to work in tandem with one another, supplying you an intoxicating amount of pleasure. 
-
With your lower half lifted up into the air with your left leg hiked up over one of San’s solid shoulders, he rubbed and grabbed at your hickey-covered ass, sucking and licking at the bottom half of your slick cunt from in front of you. “Mmn, Y/N, so sweet…” he mumbled against your mound, slowly slurping up your arousal and spitting it back out, then moving the dripping mess around with his fingers. With his back towards you, Yunho sat on his knees facing San, clutching the inside of your other thigh and keeping it out of his way, his mouth latched onto you, swiping at your throbbing clit with his long forked tongue.
“F-uuuck, that feels good,” you breathed out, grabbing and pulling at the sheets, barely able to handle the visual of Yunho and San both lapping at your cunt, the vampire administering longer, steadier strokes with his tongue, which was quite different from the way the werewolf was licking your soaked folds and salivating on your slit like you were a juicy steak he was about to devour. “Oh my god, I’m gonna cum…” 
“Cum, baby,” they answered in unison, their voices low and gravelly, both consumed with their lust for you, not even caring when their tongues began to overlap. Yunho glanced up at San, his wide tongue spreading out over the expanse of your cunt, swiping from your clit down to your pulsing hole. Eyes narrowed, San pushed two fingers inside you to make you feel full, rubbing your g-spot in a way that made you cry out desperately from the intense pleasure. “Cumming! I’m cumming…!”  you yelled out, tears stinging the corners of your eyes from how overstimulated you were becoming. San pulled his creamy fingers out of you, but continued licking your cunt to collect your cum, until his tongue started to drag up and down Yunho’s, their spit mixing together with the influx of arousal. 
“Give me,” the vampire mumbled, grabbing the werewolf’s hand and bringing it to his mouth to lick the thick strings of cum and spit from his spread fingers. San watched with glazed-over eyes, leaning in to lick at his own fingers as well, their tongues entwining now and then. Yunho slurped the mixed fluids up into his mouth and grabbed San by the jaw, spitting it onto his tongue. “You like that, huh?” the vampire questioned, chuckling when San nodded, watching with interest as the werewolf started to let a thick wad of spit drip down his chin, encouraging Yunho to lap it up and swallow it down. 
You whimpered softly from what was occurring in front of you. Not only was it the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in your life, it felt almost orgasmic to witness your boyfriends finally getting along in such a filthy way. 
Once they were both satisfied, they simultaneously licked their lips and pulled out their heavy, throbbing cocks from the confines of their pants. They had a stare-down for a while, ravenous and thirsty for you, wanting to bury themselves deep inside your cunt as quickly as possible. Yunho spoke up first, claiming, “I made her cum when I sucked on her clit, so I should get to fuck her first.” 
San shook his head, countering, “She came once I finger-fucked her, so it’s actually my turn.” 
Yunho peered at the werewolf, about to argue with him when you interrupted him, “Just fuck me at the same time. It’s not that serious.” 
Never considering that to be a solution, Yunho and San exchanged glances, their glistening lips forming perverse smiles. “I’ll fuck her tight little ass and you’ll fuck her pretty cunt?” Yunho suggested, reaching out to shake San’s hand. San nodded his head adamantly, clutching the vampire’s hand and giving it a firm shake, the both of them sharing a series of delighted chuckles.
No matter what background they were from, men were kind of odd. Oh well, at least they weren’t fighting anymore. Instead, they were about to work together so that they could stuff themselves inside you. Team work. We love to see it.
-
Growling and making guttural noises from his collared throat, San shoved his cock as deep into your cunt as he possibly could, wanting to ensure that he would fill you up with his pups one day. “Gonna breed you, baby…Gonna make you a mommy,” the werewolf huffed out, drool leaking past his lips, angling his head downward, his eyes zoning in on the faint outline of his cock being forced in and out of your lower stomach. 
“Sounds good, Sannie,” you moaned out, barely able to get a deep breath in from being sandwiched in between the large men, laying on your side on the warm mattress, thankful that Yunho was holding your right thigh up from behind you, his cock sliding in and out of your other hole. You felt a piercing sensation on your collarbone, knowing Yunho was taking a healthy portion of your life source.
"So sweet...my Darling, your blood..." Yunho mumbled against your skin, licking and sucking at the bruising skin, unable to keep his breathing under control. "God, you drive me crazy. I just-"
San's loud growls and groans interrupted the vampire's train of thought, making him grow irritated. San had his head leaned down over your chest, eagerly sucking your tits into his mouth one at a time, nibbling, licking, and slobbering all over them. 
Disgusted, Yunho scowled across your shoulder at San, questioning harshly, “Why do you always have to make such a mess all the time? Dumb dog.”
San pursed his lips and let out a few long strings of spit onto your shiny tits, his golden eyes narrowing at Yunho’s crimson ones. “Because she loves it, onion boy.”
Yunho bared his blood-stained fangs at San, growling, “Onion boy?! That’s literally an old wive’s tale, you absolute d–”
They were both fully sheathed inside your holes, pumping themselves into you over and over again and they couldn't stop arguing even for a moment? How rude. Trying to focus on how heavy and warm your lower half was beginning to feel, your arousal coating the both of their moving cocks, you huffed dramatically, injecting, “Jesus Christ, will you two just fucking focus?”
Rolling his eyes, Yunho started sucking on your neck again, quietly sipping on your blood, still pounding his cock steadily into your ass. Hearing the loud, whiny-sounding moans you were letting out, he chuckled to himself, asking huskily, “You’re such a dirty little witch, aren’t you? Is one cock not enough for you now? You need two now just to cum?” 
San nodded his head in agreement, his shaggy black hair bouncing along with his movements, unable to respond verbally, too concentrated on making sure his pre-cum was reaching your womb, desperately wanting to fill you with his kin.
Personally, you didn't want to admit that you were a slutty little witch, in desperate need of being filled by your boyfriends as much as humanly possible. So, you simply shook your head, exhaling, "No...that's not it...It's so you two can finally get along..."
Yunho dragged his tongue up your neck to your jaw, nipping at it, grabbing your ass roughly and sighing into your ear, “Darling, you say that you’re doing this so that I get along with San, but you really just wanted both of your slutty little holes to be filled up at once, huh?” 
Inhaling sharply at the sensation of both Yunho and San slowing down their thrusts, allowing you to feel every inch of them rubbing against your slick, plush walls, you searched for an excuse inside your clouded mind. “This is a bonding experience for you two, so you can finally stop–unnh–bickering,” you argued back, leaning your head back on Yunho’s collarbone, panting heavily. “How does it feel being cock to cock with my Sannie? Tell me, Yunnie.” 
Leaning his head back, San let out a small howl, overwhelmed by the constant stimulation. Not only was he able to mark you with his scent, and pump his cock into your breeding hole, but he was also able to hear you call him yours. It felt so good, so good he started to drool again. 
Blushing, Yunho pressed his cold sweaty cheek onto yours, glancing over at San, not wanting to admit that it felt good when their cocks rubbed against one another. “It could feel worse, I guess.” 
San snapped out of his daze to growl, “Liar. I can feel your stupid, undead cock throbbing against mine!” 
Yunho blushed harder, the color now reaching his pointed ears. “That’s because I’m inside my Darling’s tight little hole, you dumb m–”
“That’s enough!” you shouted, reaching back to grab the back of Yunho’s head and leaning forward into San’s chest, pushing his head in the opposite direction, now sandwiched tightly between one extremely cool body and one that was radiating heat off of it like it was the surface of the sun. “Kiss and make up, or else I’ll recite a spell that’ll turn the both of you into vibrators.” 
It took a few seconds for the both of them to internally admit to themselves that they found each other to be extremely attractive, despite their differences. San made the first move, having to squish you against his large upper half to press his lips onto Yunho's, already swiping his tongue across the vampire's lower lip. One heated kiss led to another, and soon enough, San was lapping at Yunho’s tongue and sucking on it, his drool dripping down onto your face below. Yunho groaned periodically, his cock throbbing heavily inside you, eventually grabbing San’s face to deepen the kiss, shoving his tongue inside and moving it around to assert his dominance. 
You almost felt like you were under a spell yourself, watching their tongues and lips meet in a fervid manner, noticing how they occasionally used their fangs to bite at each other’s swollen lips, their mixed saliva dripping onto your flushed face now and then. “Kiss me too…” you eventually whispered to the both of them, watching them slowly split apart, the hatred in their eyes gone and instead filled with intrepid lust. 
Without hesitation, San slotted his lips onto yours, moaning into your mouth, his ears flattening down. It's desperate, full of passion and need, his teeth clinking against yours from how fast he’s moving his mouth against yours.
You could barely handle how much pleasure you were feeling, your cunt pulsing and dripping so much slick, you were surprised either of your boyfriends could even stay inside. "Gonna cum..." you moaned into San's mouth, tears forming inside the corners of your eyes.
Yunho suddenly grabbed your chin and moved it towards him, kissing you in a more deliberate manner, allowing you to savor every swipe of his tongue and the faint taste of your own blood. He started to buck his hips up into you, sloppy and desperate, breaking the kiss to groan, "I'm gonna fill this slutty little hole up with my load, princess."
"Fuck, Y/N...I'm cumming...you're gonna be a mommy for me, baby...my pretty mommy...full of my pups..." San grabbed onto one of your hips, digging his fingers into your soft flesh, suddenly emitting harsh, animal-like noises, fucking his own load into you as deep as he possibly could, wanting to make sure it reached your womb.
You couldn't even announce your own orgasm, only able to let out a strained scream, your eyes rolling back into your skull. Your arousal squirted out of you, coating both of your boyfriend's cocks, some of it forming a small puddle on the sheets below.
The three of you laid there in a pile, huffing and puffing, simply looking at one another's flushed, fucked-out faces. The three of you exchanged quiet 'i love you's', until you sat up and jumped up from the bed, a large amount of cum dribbling out of you and down your legs.
"What's wrong, Darling?" Yunho questioned, casually holding his arm out for San to join him, the werewolf laying down on the vampire's chest and looking up at you with a puzzled expression.
"Your cum...it's all coming out of me..." you whined, squeezing your thighs together. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick." And with that, you ran out of the dorm room to the bathroom across the hall as quick as you could. When you left, Yunho and San exchanged glances, their lips slowly curling up into the same suggestive smiles.
"Alright, that's better," you sighed to yourself, walking back into the room, only to stop in your tracks, a strong zap of arousal immediately striking your core. Were you seeing things right? You rubbed your eyes and blinked. San was sitting in Yunho's large lap, rutting against the vampire like a bitch in heat with his head leaned back, his tail curled around Yunho's thigh. Not only that, but Yunho had put one of San's leashes on for him, holding the end of it with a tight grip, suddenly yanking on it so that it San down onto him, causing their open mouths to meet.
"Hey!" you called out, a hand on your hip.
They both jumped, pulling away from each other to look up at you.
Your fake angry face disappeared and was quickly replaced with a wide smile. You giggled with delight, closing the door and running towards them to jump onto the bed. "Make room for me!" They laughed in unison and wrapped their limbs around you, pressing kisses to your face and neck.
"Darling," Yunho sighed happily, nuzzling your neck with his cheek, holding you close to him. San nuzzled you as well, giving your cheek a small affectionate lick, adding, "My Y/N....ready for round two?"
Despite the odds, it seemed this naughty fairytale had a happy ending, after all. A very happy ending. 
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FFF: @hwalysm @scuzmunkie @creativechaoticloner @dilucpegg3r @yeosxxx @gemjimin @wonwowzers @sanjoongie @manipulatedstars @k-drizzle 
Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡
© toxicccred, 2023.
1K notes · View notes
hotpinkstars · 2 months
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-> happy valentines day!
synopsis -> how some of my favorite genshin women and men celebrate valentines day.
characters -> ningguang, shenhe, yelan, ei, miko, wriothesley, lyney, albedo, kazuha
warnings -> none! all fluff.
w/c -> 1.0k
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ningguang is a woman with many riches. the moment her mind processed it was valentines day when she woke up for work was also the moment she hurried over to her wardrobe, digging up a beautiful bracelet made only with diamonds before setting it down on your night table. as she was putting on her clothes, you groaned, waking up. she leaned down to kiss you before telling you to look over on your side of the nightstand, greeted to an outstanding piece of jewelry you could only dream of having. you groggily smiled, putting the bracelet around your wrist before throwing the covers off of your body and hugging your wonderful wife.
shenhe doesn’t really understand the concept of ‘valentines day.’ she knew of it as liyue citizens being cheesy on the streets, and the finest cuisine’s businesses flooding with romance. usually, she’d watch from afar. but ever since you entered her picture, she started to care just a bit more. she’d spend the day with you in the harbor, observing other couples actions before deciding herself what to do. she had decided to buy you a nice box of chocolates and a few clothing items you’ve been eyeing. she bought them with you there, without a word, waiting until you both exited the store to give them to you. when you tightly hugged her, she let out a tiny laugh, hugging you back lightly.
oh? wriothesley, the great duke of the fortress of meropide, celebrating such a holiday? yes! as the morning approached, the first fun little gift you received was his presence in bed, still asleep. ah, he must have taken the day off of work, you thought. he awoke a few moments later, saying his good morning before getting up to start the day with you. he took you out for a very nice breakfast before walking around the inner city. oh, no matter if this were to go into the steambird. charlotte is probably lingering somewhere, eager to catch a rare sight of the duke on the surface. he brought you to an isolated part of fontaine, a gorgeous view, and making sure nobody was in sight, got down on one knee and pulled out an extraordinary ring from his pocket, holding it out to you.
lyney is most certainly going to celebrate valentines day, with a valentine or not. whether it’s performing card tricks that turn into roses for men with a romantic partner, or actually celebrating it with his significant other. he’ll perform a very special magic performance, just for your eyes, not even lynette or freminet have seen it! gorgeous, glittering roses in your favorites of colors come drifting from nowhere, landing in your hair. only the finest for you! he’ll absolutely spoil you with a dinner that certainly cost one hefty sum of mora… you really, truly hope today won’t make him bankrupt.
yelan will spoil you, without a doubt. she doesn’t care much about the holiday itself, what she does care for though is that you get what you desire on such a day. she’ll take you anywhere you would like! she also likes to save the fanciest restaurants for days like these in specific. you saw a restaurant in mondstadt during your last visit? she’ll take you, and you’ll spend the night in the city of wind. she’ll do anything for you no matter, and she’ll top it off with a cute box of chocolates and a bouquet. she’s not quite the person for overwhelming affection, so she’ll give these things to you in subtle ways, behind the safety of your walls.
oh, ei. from being in such a state of meditation for so long, this woman barely grasps the concept of christmas! do not fret, she’s a quick learner. (but don’t ask her to cook. that is something she will not be able to learn.) once you explain to her what valentine's day is, and also take her to get a small rundown of the holiday from yae miko, she nods before immediately dashing off to find an exquisite treasure at a nice shop downtown. of course, considering she’s in a very high position in inazuma, she gets cheaper prices on all of the trinkets, she absolutely spoils you! she’s also willing to walk around other islands with you, to admire the scenery before pulling out the things she got you and proceeding to make it a day worth remembering.
yae miko has lived long enough to understand what valentines day is. she see’s romance on the streets during those days, and she’s even published a light novel on two lovebirds on a holiday such as this. so do not underestimate how long she has planned your gift, as soon as you wake up you are greeted to a small book laying on your pillow. you go to open it, reading such a beautiful story about how you two fell in love. it was two completely different characters re-enacting your story. she comes into your shared bedroom, sitting down with you before rubbing your thigh, a look that cannot be told between a smirk and a light smile dancing across her gorgeous face.
albedo didn’t see the significance at first. of any holiday, people choose to celebrate this one? isn’t that what anniversaries are for? though, once he sees how important it is to you, he crafts a beautiful necklace with his bare hands and some potions he had mixed up to create the gemstones that were very neatly embedded into the shell of the jewelry. it was beautiful- likely the prettiest thing you’ve set your eyes upon, considering not only was it made from love, it went perfectly with your eyes and hair. valentines day this year was such a success with albedo as your partner.
kazuha knew valentines day. he’d make today extra special for you, taking you to the finest cuisines in whatever area you were at during your travels. he’d occasionally stop, creating a bouquet that he’d plan on giving to you later on at night. when you had received it, there was everything in there- he had collected some qingxin flowers, sweet flowers, a few mint leaves for color, some silk flowers, glaze lillies, and violetgrass. you truly believed it was the most gorgeous bouquet you’ve seen, and it landed a place in a very nice glass vase when you two arrived home that evening.
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dee-writes-smut · 7 days
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SUMMER
FEATURING Azriel x Illyrian!reader
SUMMARY healing is a long journey that can't be summed up in just four simple seasons, but it seems with the help of a certain shadowsinger at your side, you've seemed to do it.
CONTENT WARNINGS mentions of nightmares, apologies, scared reader, comforting Azriel, Cassian POV, and mentions of wingspans ;)
AUTHORS NOTE the finale you've all been waiting for is finally here as promised! Thank you all so much for your support during this series, I am excited to be back and writing for you all again! Love you all and I hope you enjoy! <3
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Summer arrives like a promise fulfilled, a canvas awash with vibrant hues of green and gold, as if nature herself has donned her finest attire. The air hums with the gentle whisper of transformation, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and the promise of new beginnings on its warm breeze.
As the sun stretches its golden fingers across the land, casting long shadows that dance in its radiant glow, there's a palpable sense of rejuvenation in the air. It's as if each dawn heralds a new chapter, a chance to shed the burdens of the past and embrace the endless possibilities of the present.
In this season of abundance, life bursts forth with an exuberance that is both intoxicating and invigorating. The world awakens from its slumber, blossoming with a riot of colors as flowers unfurl their petals in joyful defiance of the lingering chill of winter. Leaves rustle in the gentle caress of the wind, their verdant whispers carrying tales of resilience and growth.
Amidst this symphony of nature's symphony, there is a sense of newfound strength coursing through every living thing. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, the warmth of the sun infuses each day with a sense of possibility, igniting a fire within the soul that refuses to be extinguished.
In the heart of summer, time seems to slow, allowing moments to linger like the last rays of sunlight on a balmy evening. It's a season of exploration and adventure, where every day holds the promise of discovery and every sunset marks the end of one chapter and the beginning of another.
And as the days stretch languidly into twilight, there is a quiet resilience that takes root, a deep-seated belief in the power of new beginnings and the strength that comes from embracing change. For in the heart of summer, beneath the sweltering heat and the endless blue skies, lies the untold promise of tomorrow, waiting to be seized with both hands and forged into something beautiful.
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(Mid Summer, Velaris)
The afternoon sun poured into the training ring, casting long shadows of the figures sparring lightly within it. Cassian was across from me, a patient yet mischievous grin on his face, as he handed me a training sword. “Ready to get your ass kicked, or are you going to make me work for it today?”
I smirked, feeling the flutter of my old spirit stirring within. “Dream on, Cassian.”
The clash of our swords sang through the air, a melody of metal that resonated with the pounding of my heart. Each strike, each parry, felt like shedding layers of fear that had cocooned me since losing my wings.
“Focus,” Cassian said, his voice a mix of sternness and encouragement. “Remember, it’s not just about strength. It’s about knowing your opponent.”
I nodded, gripping my own wooden sword a little tighter. As I lunged forward, Cassian parried easily, countering with a swift movement that I barely blocked in time. We moved in a rhythm, the clack of our swords punctuating each maneuver. My muscles remembered the dance, even if they ached from disuse. Cassian’s style was a flurry of motion, designed to overwhelm, but today he tempered his usual ferocity, giving me room to find my footing again. The physical exertion was grounding, pulling me further away from my mental ghosts.
Laughter and shouts from Mor, watching from the sidelines, filled the arena, her cheers a buoyant soundtrack to our dance of blades and as we paused for a break, Mor jogged over with a waterskin and a smirk. She threw an arm around my shoulders, squeezing tightly. “Look at you! You’re almost back to your old self,” she beamed, her pride evident.
The warmth from her compliment soaked through me, loosening some of the tightness still lingering in my chest. “Feels good to move like that again,” I admitted, allowing the truth of my words to wash over me. It did feel good—like claiming back pieces of my soul, piece by piece.
“You two look like you’re having fun,” she smiled, squeezing me close again as she handed me the waterskin. After I took a long drink, she shot me a sly glance. “Speaking of fun, have you noticed how Azriel can't seem to stay away from your side?”
Mor’s eyebrows wiggled as I coughed on the water, wiping my mouth as I tried to compose myself. “He’s just being supportive,” I muttered, feeling my cheeks heat up.
Cassian chuckled, leaning on his sword. “Oh, he’s being supportive, all right. Haven’t seen him this glued to someone since… well, ever.”
I rolled my eyes, but the seed of awareness began to sprout in my mind. Azriel had indeed been a constant presence, his quiet strength a comfort I hadn’t realized I’d leaned on so much.
“Do you think it might be a mating bond?” Mor asked casually, too casually, as she inspected her nails.
The question halted me, the weight of the implication settling in my stomach like a stone. The mating bond was sacred, profound—was I ready for something like that? The very thought made my heart race, not just with fear but with a blossoming hope I hadn’t acknowledged until now.
“Maybe he’s just being a good friend,” I countered, but my voice lacked conviction.
Cassian raised an eyebrow, giving me a knowing look. “When you know, you know,” he said simply. “And it looks like you’re starting to realize something there.”
We resumed training, but his words echoed in my mind with each strike and block. Azriel’s face appeared in my thoughts, his smiles, the gentle touch of his hands, the way his eyes lit up when he looked at me lately. My feelings for him, which I had shelved as mere gratitude or the simple need for companionship during recovery, seemed to be deepening into something richer, more profound.
As we finished and walked back towards the House of Wind, Mor looped her arm through mine. “You don’t have to figure it all out at once,” she whispered. “But don’t close your heart to the possibility of something beautiful. Azriel cares for you deeply, more than just as a friend or protector.”
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow that bathed the world in a soft, forgiving light. It felt symbolic, reflective of my own internal dawn. Maybe, just maybe, I was ready to consider that what lay between Azriel and me could be the kind of love that songs and tales were spun from. As fear and doubt receded, leaving room for this new, tender hope, I realized that my journey of healing was also leading me down a path of rediscovering my capacity to love—not just Azriel, but myself and this new life I was slowly, bravely building.
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(Mid Summer, The River House)
That evening, the dinner with the Inner Circle was held at the sprawling, candlelit table in the River House. The atmosphere was thick with laughter and the clinking of glasses, a symphony of friendship and familial bonds. The windows were thrown open, allowing the crisp, cool air of Velaris to sweep through the room, mixing with the scent of jasmine and roasted meats.
As I entered the dining room, a subtle change in my demeanor didn’t go unnoticed by the group. Rhysand was the first to catch my eye, giving me a nod of approval and a warm, welcoming smile. Amren, ever observant, watched me with her piercing gaze, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips, acknowledging the shift in my spirits.
Azriel, standing slightly apart, offered me a soft, encouraging smile as I took my place next to him. His quiet strength bolstered my newfound resolve to engage more fully with those around me.
Dinner began with a lively discussion led by Feyre about a recent exhibition at the art gallery in the city. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she described the vibrant colors and revolutionary techniques of the new artists showcased. I listened, chiming in with my thoughts on the integration of night and day themes, which earned an approving laugh from Rhys.
As the meal continued, Cassian, true to form, began recounting one of his training escapades, embellishing the details to make his tale more dramatic. “And then, just as I was about to execute my perfectly planned maneuver, an Illyrian baby sneezed on me. Totally threw off my game!”
Laughter erupted around the table, and I found myself genuinely chuckling, the sound surprising even to me. “Only you, Cassian, could be outmaneuvered by a baby’s sneeze,” I teased, earning a round of applause and a mock bow from Cassian.
“See, she’s got jokes now! Our girl’s coming back to us,” Mor exclaimed, her face alight with joy. She reached over to squeeze my hand, her gesture warm and reassuring.
As plates were cleared and desserts were served, the conversation shifted to lighter, more personal stories. Feyre shared anecdotes about her latest painting misadventures, while Mor detailed her plans for the upcoming festival in the city. Each story, each shared laugh, felt like a stitch mending the frayed edges of my soul.
As the dinner party began to wind down in the warm, laughter-filled hall, a soft coo from the corner caught my attention. Nyx, cradled gently in Feyre’s arms, was awake and curiously peeking over her shoulder with wide, starry eyes. I felt my heart tug softly. It had been too long since I had held him, too long since I’d allowed myself to be part of these simpler, beautiful family moments.
Feyre caught my gaze and smiled, understanding immediately. “Someone wants to say hello,” she said softly, walking over with Nyx. His small hand reached out, and I couldn’t help but smile as his fingers grasped at the air between us.
“May I?” I asked, my voice a whisper of excitement mixed with a hint of uncertainty.
“Of course,” Feyre replied, carefully transferring Nyx into my arms. The baby settled against me with ease, a soft sigh escaping him as if he found comfort in my embrace. His tiny hand reached up, touching my cheek gently, an innocent gesture that felt like a reassurance of missed affection. It was as if he was saying he remembered me, that he too had felt the absence of our connection.
The moment wasn’t lost on Azriel, who watched from a short distance. His shadows flickered subtly around him, a telltale sign of his emotions stirring beneath that calm exterior. Since the conversation with Cassian and Mor earlier today, every glance, every small interaction with him seemed charged with a new, silent tension. My newly admitted feelings for him amplified each shared look, adding weight to the air between us.
As I rocked Nyx gently, my thoughts drifted to Azriel again. His presence at my side had become a constant, his support unwavering. The depth of my affection for him had crept up silently, weaving itself into the fabric of my daily life until it was indistinguishable from my other truths. I found myself stealing glances at him, each look a quiet confession of the feelings I was only beginning to allow myself to acknowledge.
Azriel eventually made his way over, his gaze softening as he looked at Nyx in my arms. “He’s missed you,” Azriel murmured, his voice barely audible over the low hum of conversation around us.
I met his eyes, feeling a flush of warmth at the intimacy of the moment. “I’ve missed him, too. Missed all of this,” I admitted, my voice thick with emotion. The way Azriel looked at me then, with such warmth and depth, made my heart skip a beat.
“Looks good on you,” he said after a pause, nodding towards Nyx.
The comment, simple and offhand, thrummed with unspoken meanings. It was a nudge against the boundaries we had maintained, a gentle probing into the new spaces of my heart that had begun to open to him.
As I handed Nyx back to Feyre, I caught Azriel’s arm gently. “Stay for a moment?” I asked, my voice hopeful, laden with the weight of all the things I hadn’t yet said.
He nodded, his usual reserve melting away for a moment as he stayed by my side, his presence a silent promise of things perhaps soon to be explored. We both knew something unspoken was shifting between us, and while neither of us was ready to dive into those waters just yet, acknowledging it—even in silence—felt like the first step toward a new horizon.
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(Mid Summer, The House of Wind)
The following week, Feyre, Mor, Nesta, and I revived our "book club"—a ruse for nights filled with wine, wild discussions about our latest reads, and shared secrets under the cloak of night. As I sat curled up on a plush couch, a glass of wine in hand, surrounded by these incredible women, a profound sense of belonging enveloped me. Here, in these moments, I was safe to just be; to heal, to laugh, to grow.
The cozy nook tucked away in the House of Wind had become our sanctuary, a place where the Inner Circle’s book club convened to discuss literature, life, and everything in between. Tonight, as the flickering candlelight cast soft shadows across the room, I settled into my usual spot among the plush cushions, surrounded by my closest friends.
Feyre, Nesta, and Mor lounged around me, each with a book in hand, their faces alight with anticipation for our weekly gathering. The atmosphere was charged with excitement, the air buzzing with the promise of lively conversation and shared insights.
“So, what’s everyone reading this week?” Mor asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she glanced around the circle.
Feyre held up a worn copy of her latest find, a tale of forbidden love and political intrigue. “I’m revisiting an old favorite,” she said with a smile. “It’s like catching up with an old friend.”
Nesta, with a smirk playing on her lips, produced a rather scandalous-looking novel with a provocative cover. “I’m exploring the more… sensual side of literature,” she declared, her voice dripping with amusement.
As the conversation flowed around me, I couldn’t help but chuckle at Nesta’s choice. Leave it to her to bring a little spice to our book club discussions. I was hesitant to share tonight, scared to share my feelings so blatantly, to say them out loud in a space with women who would not so soon let me forget. Tonight felt different, though, I felt stronger, able to seize this chance to share with my friends the tumultuous emotions swirling inside me.
“I’ve been reading this collection of poetry,” I began, my voice tentative at first. “It’s funny how words can capture the complexity of human emotions so beautifully.”
Mor’s eyes gleamed with interest, her grin widening. “Ah, poetry—the language of the heart,” she said, her tone teasing yet tender. “Any particular poem speaking to you?”
I hesitated, my gaze flickering to the empty spot where Azriel usually sat. His absence was keenly felt, a reminder of the unresolved tension between us. “There’s one poem that resonates with me,” I admitted, my voice growing stronger with each word. “It’s about…” I faltered, the weight of my confession heavy on my tongue.
Feyre leaned forward, her eyes warm with understanding. “About love?” she prompted gently, her hand reaching out to squeeze mine in silent support.
I nodded, the words spilling forth in a rush. “About love, and fear, and the courage to open your heart to someone—even when it scares you.”
Nesta regarded me with a thoughtful expression, her gaze piercing yet compassionate. “Love is a battlefield,” she said, her voice soft yet firm. “But sometimes, the greatest victories come from facing our fears head-on.”
Mor chimed in with her trademark humor, lightening the mood with a well-timed joke. “Who knew our stoic Shadowsinger had a soft spot for you?”
Feyre smiled knowingly, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Maybe it’s time to confront the shadows and see what lies beneath.”
Nesta couldn’t resist adding her own brand of wit to the conversation. “Speaking of shadows,” she said with a sly grin, “has anyone else noticed Azriel’s wingspan lately?”
We all laughed at Nesta’s comment, the tension in the room dissipating as we embraced the camaraderie of our little gathering. Despite the challenges we faced, tonight was a reminder that with the support of friends, even the darkest shadows could be chased away.
As the evening wore on, our conversation drifted from books to more personal topics, each of us sharing snippets of our lives and experiences. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, a chance to peel back the layers and reveal the raw truths hidden beneath.
Nesta, ever the enigma, shared tales of her latest adventures in the human lands, her sharp wit and cunning intellect shining through with every word.
Mor, always the life of the party, regaled us with stories of her escapades in the Court of Nightmares, her laughter contagious as she recounted her misadventures.
And Feyre, with her quiet strength and unwavering compassion, offered words of wisdom and encouragement, her presence a soothing balm to our troubled souls.
As for me, I found solace in their company, the weight of my burdens eased by the warmth of their friendship. In their laughter and shared moments, I found the courage to confront my fears and embrace the possibility of a brighter future.
And as the candles burned low and the night grew late, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, I would face them with the unwavering support of my sisters by my side.
The support of the entire Inner Circle was a force as tangible as the magic that coursed through our veins—a constant, steadfast presence that fortified me against the darker moments. Their belief in me, their unyielding backing, gave me strength, and little by little, I began to feel not just the shadow of the person I once was, but someone stronger, resilient, reborn from adversity.
In these gatherings, these moments of shared vulnerability and joy, I was not just healing. I was transforming—emerging not how I was before the kidnapping, but perhaps even brighter, tempered by trials and warmed by the unwavering light of the family I chose and who had chosen me in return.
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(Late Summer, The House of Wind)
The night pressed heavily around the room, its silence a thick, oppressive blanket punctuated only by the soft, rhythmic breathing of Azriel beside me. In the comfort of his proximity, sleep had finally granted me a temporary reprieve from the relentless torment of my nightmares. Yet, the peace was fragile, vulnerable to the slightest disturbance—a reality proven as a sharp, inexplicable chill sliced through the room's stagnant warmth.
The temperature plummeted, wrapping its icy fingers around my spine, jolting me awake. My eyes flicked open, instantly scanning the familiar contours of the room bathed in the ethereal glow of moonlight. Shadows clung to the walls like dark, silent sentinels until one stirred coalescing into a form far too human, far too familiar.
Lyris emerged from the darkness as though materializing from my deepest fears, his presence a tangible echo of past horrors. His eyes, sharp and merciless, locked onto mine with the precision of a hunter sighting its prey. The sheer malevolence in his gaze sent a visceral shudder through me, yet it was no longer solely fear that stirred within my veins. Anger, raw and blazing, kindled within, fueling a burgeoning defiance I hadn't known I possessed.
"Thinking you could escape me?" Lyris's voice was a venomous hiss, his form inching closer with predatory grace. His smirk was twisted, a grotesque mask of sadistic anticipation.
But then, with the seamless reflexes honed by centuries of battle, Azriel was between us. His body moved with lethal precision, his hand snapping out to seize Lyris by the wrist, halting his advance with unyielding strength. "She's under my protection," Azriel snarled, his voice a dangerous, low rumble. His other hand flicked to his side, the sound of steel sliding from leather slicing through the tension as he brandished a dagger, its blade catching the moon's silver light.
Lyris recoiled slightly, his eyes darting to the blade then back to Azriel’s unwavering stare. "You think you can keep her from her fate?" he spat, struggling against Azriel's iron grip.
“Her fate is her own, and you have no part in it,” Azriel retorted, his wings unfurling menacingly. The air around us thickened with dark, swirling shadows, responding to the raw power emanating from him. In that moment, he was not just my protector but an avenging angel cloaked in night's embrace.
The room filled with a heavy, expectant silence, thick with the weight of unspoken threats. Breaking the tension, I found my voice, though it trembled with the force of my emotions. "Where are my wings, Lyris?" The question tore from me, a desperate plea tangled with a demand.
"Your wings?" he mused mockingly, his eyes glinting with cruelty. "Such a precious prize… Let's just say they're kept in a place where they await their true destiny—far from your reach.”
"Give them back," Azriel demanded, his tone lethal, a stark contrast to the deceptive calm of his posture.
Lyris's laugh was cold and chilling, like the howl of the wind outside. "You overestimate your power here, shadow singer. I could take her now, and you wouldn't be able to stop me."
Azriel's response was swift and deadly serious. "Try it, and it will be the last thing you do." His wings unfurled dramatically as he snatched Lyris’ wrist in a powerful grip, the span of dark membrane filling the room with a sense of otherworldly power. The shadows around him deepened, swirling in response to his anger and the protective fury that laced every syllable.
The standoff stretched, a moment suspended in time where every breath, every heartbeat was laden with potential violence. Then, with a jerk, Lyris wrenched free, stepping back into the protective shroud of darkness. “She will never be free from me," he hissed, his presence oppressive, suffocating. "And neither will you."
Then, as suddenly as he had appeared, he dissolved into shadows, leaving a cold void in his wake. His final words echoed ominously, a malevolent promise hanging in the air. As the immediate threat vanished, Azriel’s demeanor shifted, the lethal warrior receding to reveal his concern. He turned to me, his intense gaze softening. “Are you alright?” His voice was now a gentle whisper, a stark contrast to the deadly thunder from moments before.
I collapsed back against the pillows, my body trembling uncontrollably. The fear wasn't just about the physical presence of Lyris—it was the emotional and psychological terror, the deep scars he had left on my soul, that overwhelmed me.
Azriel sat beside me, enveloping me in his arms, his presence a solid, reassuring force against the lingering echoes of dread. "I'm here. You're safe," he murmured against my hair, his voice a soothing balm.
Tears streamed down my cheeks, sobs wracking my body as the terror slowly ebbed away, replaced by immense fatigue. "We have to get them back, Azriel. I need to feel whole again."
His embrace tightened, a silent promise of unyielding support. "We will," he assured me quietly. "No matter what it takes, we will bring them back.” He took a deep breath, his arms tightening around me as if he were scared that I might run from him. “Always, I will protect you. From him, from anyone who dares to threaten you,” he murmured into my hair, his breath warm against my scalp. His wings, now gently wrapped around us, formed a cocoon that felt impenetrable.
Settling back against him, I allowed the warmth of his embrace to seep deeper into my bones, expelling the lingering chill of Lyris's visit. His presence was a bastion, within which I found not only protection but a profound sense of belonging.
As we lay back down, the room once again shrouded in the soothing silence of night, a new resolve fortified my spirit. Lyris had found me, yes, but he had not found me alone, nor would he ever. Azriel’s vow to protect me was more than a promise—it was a declaration, a sentinel set against the darkness, both within and without. As sleep beckoned once more, the shadows no longer seemed an ominous threat lurking in the corners but allies, guardians cloaked in the same darkness that wrapped around us, a shield against all that would do harm.
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(Late Summer, Cassian)
The morning after Lyris's intrusion, the House of Wind seemed to hold its breath, an unspoken tension palpable in the air. Everyone had shared their worries for her, our friend who had clawed her way back from that bastard's torment. We all worried, we all loved her so greatly, enjoyed the way her presence warmed Azriel’s cold exterior and to see her fall back into that dark place she had fought her way out of, to take Azriel unknowingly with her again, it poured a dark sense of grief over the house.
But amidst the uncertainty, the deep seeded fear of losing our friend once more, there was a glimmer of light, a beacon of hope cutting through the darkness. Entering the kitchen, I was met with a scene that caught me off guard—our friend, her laughter ringing out like a bell as she shared a moment of levity with Azriel. It was a rare sight, one that stirred a mixture of surprise and quiet satisfaction within me.
Azriel, usually cloaked in shadows both literal and metaphorical, had a small, genuine smile playing at the corners of his lips. His usually guarded demeanor seemed to soften in her presence, and I couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in the air between them.
Their interaction spoke volumes, a silent language of understanding and companionship that transcended words. Despite the trials they had faced, there was a sense of comfort and familiarity in their shared laughter, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was still light to be found in the company of those we held dear.
As I joined them in the kitchen, a silent witness to their shared moment of joy, I couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the bond that had formed between them. Their friendship had weathered storms that would have broken lesser souls, and yet here they were, laughing together as if the weight of the world had been lifted from their shoulders.
And as I observed them, surrounded by the warmth of their laughter and the comfort of their companionship, I couldn't help but feel a surge of hope for the future. For in the bond between her and Azriel, I saw strength, resilience, and the promise of brighter days ahead.
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(Late Summer, The House of Wind)
The day had been long and daunting, with every passing moment feeling like a test of endurance. The worry from my friends was palpable, their concern etched into every glance and every word. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate their care—it was their hovering, their treating me like a fragile thing, that grated against my newfound sense of strength. But amidst it all, there was Azriel.
He stood as a steadfast anchor amidst the storm, a silent guardian who watched over me with unwavering determination. While others fretted and fussed, he remained at my side, a silent sentinel who seemed to understand without the need for words. His presence alone was enough to bolster my spirits, to remind me that I was not alone in this struggle.
Throughout the day, I found myself stealing glances at him, marveling at the depth of his care. How had I not noticed it before? His gaze lingered on me with a mixture of concern and understanding, his eyes a window to the depths of his soul. It was as if he saw straight through the facade I presented to the world, recognizing the strength within me even when I doubted it myself.
As evening descended and the weight of the day settled upon us, we retreated to the familiar sanctuary of my room. Azriel had made it his own, his presence a comforting presence in the darkness. The routine of preparing for bed had become second nature to us—changing into pajamas, brushing our teeth side by side, and slipping under the covers as Azriel performed his meticulous check of the room.
In the quiet moments before sleep claimed us, we lay in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for Azriel's unwavering support, for his steadfast presence that had seen me through the darkest of days. It was a bond forged in the crucible of adversity, a connection that defied explanation yet felt more real than anything I had ever known.
“Azriel?” I called softly into the night, my voice barely a whisper.
He turned to me, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the window. For a moment, we simply gazed at each other, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. And then, with a small smile, he reached out, pulling me closer until I was nestled against his chest.
At that moment, as I lay nestled against Azriel's chest, something shifted between us—a subtle yet profound change that altered the very fabric of our connection. It was as if the air crackled with an invisible energy, a tangible tension that seemed to draw us closer together.
I felt it first, the unmistakable sensation of the mating bond snapping into place with a sudden clarity that took my breath away. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a truth that had always been there, hidden beneath the surface. The primal need to be close to him, to feel his presence as an extension of my own, suddenly made perfect sense.
And then, as if in response to my realization, Azriel let out a small gasp, his arms tightening around me with a fierce urgency that mirrored my own. It was a primal, instinctual reaction, as if some ancient part of him recognized the significance of this moment and refused to let me go.
In that instant, all doubts and uncertainties melted away, replaced by a profound sense of clarity and understanding. We were bound together, our souls intertwined in a way that transcended the physical realm. And as I gazed into Azriel's eyes, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, united by the unbreakable bond that now bound us.
"I'll protect you, ensure you are safe and happy and loved," Azriel vowed, his voice a soothing melody that wrapped around me like a warm embrace, promising sanctuary in the depths of his love.
Tears welled in my eyes as his words washed over me, a flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm my fragile resolve. "As will I," I replied, my voice trembling with the weight of my own commitment, my heart laid bare before him in a moment of raw vulnerability.
His eyes, pools of darkness tinged with golden fire, bore into mine with a fierce intensity, piercing through the walls I had built around my heart. "Throughout all the seasons you will be mine, if that is what you want?" His voice was a whisper, yet it echoed through the chambers of my soul, stirring something deep within me that I could no longer deny.
With a trembling breath, I reached out to him, my fingers trembling as they traced the contours of his face, memorizing every line, every scar, every shadow that danced across his skin. "There is no one else I would rather share them with," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper, the truth of my words ringing out in the quiet room like a sacred vow.
And in that moment, as our souls intertwined in the golden threads of the mating bond, I felt a surge of emotion wash over me, overwhelming in its intensity. It was as if the weight of a thousand lifetimes had been lifted from my shoulders, replaced by a sense of peace and belonging that I had longed for all my life.
With tears streaming down my cheeks, I pressed my forehead against his, our breaths mingling in the space between us as we stood on the precipice of eternity. In that sacred embrace, we found refuge from the storms that had battered our souls, forging a connection that would endure the trials of time. And as we surrendered to the pull of the mating bond, our hearts beat as one, a symphony of love and devotion that echoed through the halls of the House of Wind.
Together, we would face the challenges that lay ahead, our bond a beacon of hope in the darkness, guiding us through the labyrinth of life with unwavering strength and unwavering love.
For in each other's arms, we had found our home, our sanctuary, our forever. And as the night enveloped us in its embrace, we knew that no matter what trials awaited us, we would face them together, united in a love that was destined to last for all eternity.
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