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edenalieth · 3 days

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HUSH

Pairing: changbin x afab! reader

Genre: established relationship, a bit of angst at first, smut (mdni!), he’s in love

Warnings: some swearing, induced self consciousness and depreciation, fingering fem receiving

Summary: Another family dinner, another disrespectful remarks from your aunt. You’re trying your best to ignore them, however you’re getting tired of it and it does lower your self-esteem. Changbin can’t bear seeing you like and intends to make you feel loved and beautiful.

Words: 1.6K

A.N: hello hello! im back with a fic which wasn't planned at all, oopsie 😬 i have several ones on my drafts so, be ready! as always, feedback is much appreciated and i apologize for the possible mistakes — cami, 240423

You were done. So freaking done with all this bullshit. You could never spend one family dinner without any remark from your aunt. In her eyes, you were always too lazy, too fat and she kept asking when you and your boyfriend would have kids even though she already knew the answer. All that pressure felt exhausting. You had been holding back for a while and tried to remain respectful, unlike her. However, she was truly pushing your limits. Your hands were shaking with anger as you stared into the bathroom sink, avoiding your reflection in the mirror facing you. Deep breath. Your eyes were tingling as tears were forming and threatening to fall. Suddenly, you heard a knock.

« What ? » you harshly said. You didn’t want to talk with any family member at the moment. To your surprise, it wasn’t your mom as you expected it to be.

« It’s me, love. » your boyfriend’s voice was a bit muffled by the closed door. « Can I come in ? » he softly inquired. You sighed and quickly wiped your tears away because you didn’t want him to see you like that. You half-opened the door. « I will be there in a sec, ok ? ». You forced a weak smile but your eyes betrayed your true feelings. Changbin’s soft brown eyes looked at you intensely, with a mix of concern and adoration. His heart ached at the sight of you being hurt, especially by words coming from an old hag with three divorces on her record. Before you could close the door again, he put his foot through the partially opened door. « Please ? » he pleaded, his plump lips forming a pout. How could you resist ? You let him in, going back to the sink and turning the water on. He glanced at you with your back turned to him. Closing the door, he then stepped towards you. You could feel his warm hands delicately running on your stomach as he was back hugging you. His broad chest felt like a cocoon and you directly melt into his embrace, your muscles relaxing a little. He gave a tender peck on your cheek and rubbed his nose against it. « You shouldn’t listen to her, Y/N. » he whispered in your ear. You whined. It was easier said than done. You put your hands on his and caressed them with your fingers. « I know, Binnie… I just wish that, once in her life, she would spend a dinner without unnecessarily spitting her venom to my face. » Your voice was a bit hoarse, sobs painfully tightening your throat. Changbin immediately noticed. "You know what ?" he said, his voice steady and reassuring. "You handled it with grace. You were poised and composed, even when she was being unreasonable. You're stronger than you realize. ». You sniffled, kind of skeptical about that. How he wished you could see yourself through his eyes. Then, you would realize how gorgeous and incredible you are. « Love, I can assure you that you’re perfect the way you are. Her words don’t define you.». He left more kisses on your cheek and jawline. You closed your eyes to the sensation of it and hummed. Only him could make you feel like that. Loved and peaceful.

However, he didn’t stop there. If praising you didn’t seem to be efficient enough, he would go all the way for you to accept yourself. He wanted to convey how your only existence turned his world upside down, in a good way. How he found you exceptional. Not only was he feeling lucky to have the hottest woman as his but also the smartest and kindest soul of them all. So he kept going, his smooches on your skin getting slippery and feverish. You felt his hands lowering towards your thighs and crotch. « That’s all you have to say ? I will not be satisfied by a simple hum, Y/N. » he warned. His hot breath against your neck and his curly locks brushing against it made you shiver, heat building up in your inside.

« Changbin, we should n… » you couldn’t finish your sentence, cut off by the look your boyfriend’s reflection was giving you in the mirror.

« You’re finally looking up. » he breathed, visibly pleased by your astonished face which was betraying your aroused state. The brown haired boy was still staring at you, lips glued to your skin, unbuttoning your pants. « Binnie… they’re going to wonder wh… ». You felt his middle finger brushing against your clothed core. « To wonder about what ? » he teasingly mewled. You bit on your lower lip. « About what is taking us so long. » you faintly exhaled, holding back a moan as his fingers were slowly working on your sensitive spot. He pressed himself closer to you, until you were almost crushed between him and the bathroom counter. The furniture was applying pressure on your lower abdomen, increasing all the sensations. « Oh, don’t worry. I will be quick but you have to play fairly. » he raised a brow, an amused expression adorning his face. You nodded, unconsciously moving your hips back and forth to get some friction on his hand. « Great. All you have to do is to say those three words: I am great. »

Gosh, he was driving you crazy. You were craving to feel his fingers down on you, rid of any bothering fabric. « It’s ridiculous. Come on, Changbin can’t you just… »

As if he had heard your thoughts, he sled his hands into your panties. His digits were welcomed by the warm wetness of your juices. Shit. Maybe the game will be slightly difficult for him too. However, he was a born competitor and wouldn’t admit defeat. His finger was circling your clit, variating pressure on it, going up and down to lubricate your slit. You clenched your fists and watched him pleasuring you. This was probably the hottest view you had ever seen. Any trace of tease had left his face now. He was towering you from behind, his free hand delicately bending you over. « I want to hear it. » he groaned. His eyes weren’t as soft and rounded as earlier and you could tell they were glaring at your soul. Fine. You would comply to his game and its stupid rule. « I am great » you weakly yelped.

Changbin’s heart race was increasing dangerously. How could you look so cunty and adorable at the same time ? And you weren’t even cumming yet ! Furrowing his brow, he put your pants down to your ankles. Using both hands, he grasped your butt and lightly spread it to expose your dripping folds. You gasped and tried to get his palm back on your slit. « Fucking beautiful… » he murmured to himself, his growing boner getting cramped into his boxer. He glanced at your reflection, as you waited like a puppy for its treat. « You’re doing great, love. But that’s still not enough. Say that you’re beautiful.» What ? He told you to play fairly just for him to play you like that ? « Shut up. » you growled and he couldn’t hold back a small laughter.

« Say it. » he dared you, his index playing with your entrance. « I am beauti… Ah! » you loudly moaned as he started to finger you. Changbin hurried to hush you, stuffing two digits into your mouth. You greedily sucked on it, getting totally brain fucked. Seeing you desperately horny turned him on like crazy, his dick lightly twitching in his pants. He wanted to fuck you right here. To feel your warm mouth around his cock, your tits bouncing as he would thrust into you. The idea of it made him drool and work faster on your core. He fingered you with passion, his digits curling into your inside, going back and forth to a high then slow rhythm. You were a panting mess, trying your best to stay as quiet as possible. But the brown haired boy was doing magic on you and you were getting awfully close. « Changbin, I… will not be able… to handle it… any longer. » your legs were wobbly, barely supporting you.

He smirked. « I know, love. Say it and I will let you cum. » He kissed your cheek and licked your neck, leaving a wet trail on its way. You looked at the brown haired boy. Your man was touching you with no mercy, softly rubbing his crotch on your butt. He looked outrageously handsome and lustful. His eyes glistening with love, his plump lips half opened as he was craving for air. Noticing how you were staring at him, he grabbed your chin with his left hand and made you watch yourself. « Look at you. » he moaned. The view made your inside flutter. You seemed so needy. Darting your ass up to feel him deeper, hands gripping on the counter, eyeing your boyfriend in such a sinful, sinful way. Your walls tightened around Changbin’s fingers and he knew you were seconds away from your climax. Despite this kind of degrading position, you found yourself beautiful and sexy. « I am beautiful. » you whispered, looking at yourself. « You truly are, Y/N » and with a few thrusts, you clenched around his digits, a wave of pleasure and relief hitting you hard. Your legs gave up under you and Changbin had to hug you tightly to prevent you from falling. You chuckled and he joined you. « Let me help you. »

He made you turned around and kneeled down. He had already done so much for you. And here he was, dressing you up and worshipping you as if you were a priceless treasure. When he got up, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. « Thank you. »

« Don’t, babe. I hope that, one day, you will love yourself just as much as I love you. » he replied, brushing his nose against yours. You closed the gap between the both of you. Lips crashing onto his, his tongue seeking for a way to enter your mouth, his firm body pressing onto yours. You were both panting and you could feel his hard on against your belly. « Should we go home ? So, I can help you back » you teased him. He took your hand in his. « Please. »

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kissitbttr · 6 months

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a very tired miguel who gets home from work and gets babied by his woman

It's close to 9pm as you're lying on your bed. keeping your focus on the book you're reading, one that you failed to keep as a part of your routine due to your busy schedule with work. being a fashion designer has it's perks but it also has its dark sides too. especially when it comes to dealing with snobby ass clients

as you are about to flip to another page, you hear the front door opened. keys rattling against the ceramic bowl with a loud sigh follows after. a soft smile appears on your face soon as you realize who it is

“miguel? Is that you?” you softly call out your husband’s name while putting the book down.

"si, mi amor" he appears shortly by the doorway. your tall and handsome fiancee adorned in an unbuttoned white shirt that showcase a bit of his chest and paired with black trousers. a simple work attire but never fail to make your knees wobble. the sight could put any Greek Gods known to a man to shame.

your heart breaks a little seeing how tired he looks. his eye-bags are coming off too strong. a constant reminder on how he has been working himself far too hard despite you telling him to take it easy. but that's just how he is, stubborn.

"how's work my love?" you ask, watching him undress himself, revealing his exposed toned chest before putting the clothes away with the rest of his dirty ones in the bathroom. "I take it, it wasn't a good day?"

"you could say that" he replies tiredly, grabbing a pair of sweatpants off the chair and slipping it on. "trying to get ahold with the new recruits is a fucking job, Peter's been getting on my nerves and I'm working on advancing the technology we have right now in order for it to be easier to identify every single anomaly's DNA we've come across to. But the amount of hypotheses and research I've done are nowhere near close to how I want them to be."

"i would ask Tony Stark for help but que cabron esta muerto" he breathes out a sigh, pinching the thick skin between his brows. "I'm drained, mi amor... i can't fucking do this shit everytime--"

"no hey.. stop" you shake your head, hate having to see your man fronting a distressed look in his face. “come here, Miggy” you pout at him patting your chest for him to lay his head,

he sighs heavily. plopping into the bed and carefully lays himself on top of you. pounding head finding comfort in the warmth of your chest, snaking his big arms around your waist.

you put your arms around him, locking him tightly as your soft lips kiss his forehead making him purr.

“my pretty baby. exhausted aren't you? hm?” you ask in a cooing tone. he hums -- which sounded like a growl to you-- with a nod before nuzzling himself closer. “oh my poor poor baby... my handsome man. always working himself to the bone” another kiss on the forehead

“come up a little closer, hm?” you ask as he barely shifts his body. too lazy and far too comfortable in your arms like this for him to move.

you run your fingers through his soft hair, moving a piece that’s covering his forehead. looking down to see him close his eyes, yet not sleeping.

it’s so funny to see how this freakishly large- broad man who always seems to bring a cold presence that scares everyone off at work—which is technically true— then turns into a huge softie and a love puddle for you in a split seconds.

it’s truly a privilege that you’re the only one who gets to see and feel this

“look how cute you are, baby… do you know how cute you are, hm?” you coo at him, lips kissing his nose and the sharpness of his cheekbone. trying your best to console him in hopes of washing his stress away.

he lightly shakes his head. “no” a curt reply rolls of his mouth, drawing your body closer to him if that's even possible.

you pretend to gasp dramatically at his answer. fingers still stroking his hair lightly. “you don’t?! oh no! we have to fix that! you’re the cutest *kiss* most handsome *kiss* hardworking *kiss* man I’ve ever known” showering him with compliments in between kisses. he breathes out a small chuckle that muffles against your chest.

it’s obvious that miguel rarely gets treatments like this, he’s no one to shy from things but you're his only exception. the only person who truly can get him blush like a little kid when he's shown the slightest bit of affection.

“who’s baby are you hm? are you my baby?” a smile graces your lips as your eyes casting down to his pretty features.

“me. I’m your baby” he mumbles, tightening his grip around you. "always be your baby"

inspired by @webslingingslasher their frat!peter work yall is making me [REDACTED] please go take a look!!

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara blurbs #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fluff

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fangswbenefits · 5 months

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The Arrangement (4) - Solution

Chapter summary: Wyll comes bearing a solution to your predicament with Astarion... what could possibly go wrong?

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Word count: 3.5k

Previous chapter . Series Masterlist . Ao3

Snow.

Why was it snowing in Baldur's Gate this time of the year?

It didn't make any sense whatsoever.

But there was no denying it when the cold yet tender caresses of snowflakes began to spread across the swell of your cheeks.

A distant voice was calling out to you, but you could only smile blissfully at the warm embrace of its familiarity.

It was as the winter sun that insisted on tearing through storm clouds rolling over the majestic Baldurian mountains: powerful enough to melt the frost away, and unforgiving once its rays shined out the brightest.

The faint scent of bergamot laced with rosemary surrounded you like a soft blanket.

You did recognise that scent… and your smile immediately dropped.

The voice got louder and louder, but your feet were now moving on their own until you were at the edge of a cliff.

Then you plummeted without looking back.

An agonising scream reverberated through your mind like a knife in the dark, twisting and prodding until you jolted awake at once.

Your eyes snapped open and you saw Astarion's face first and felt his icy fingers on your face next.

As a surge of panic and dread took over, you instinctively slapped his hand away.

“What are you doing?”

“You were squirming and screaming.”

You quickly propped yourself on your elbows, realising he sat at your feet, brows furrowed and an unreadable look on his face.

Another nightmare? But it hadn't started off like that. They rarely did.

As your eyes roamed along the length of your body, it dawned on you that his scent had made it all the way to your subconscious because his cloak was now covering you.

Noticing your realisation, he cleared his throat. “You were shivering in your sleep. You humans can be so… frail.”

You wish you could hate him. You truly wish you could loathe him with your entire being, especially after your earlier exchange.

It would make it so much easier to overcome the longing feelings you had for him.

But, it would seem, he was bent on making it harder for you and this bond wasn't easily severed on a whim.

Instinctively, you pulled the fabric of his cloak snuggly around your neck as if it would be enough to keep him at bay.

“I would have offered my body heat, if I had any left,” he said with a shrug, pulling one knee up against his chest.

Right.

Vampire.

No body heat unless he was well fed.

“Did I… say anything?”

The last thing you needed right now was for your subconscious to betray you by having you mumble out his name in a suggestive manner.

The faintest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Hard to make out anything intelligible in the midst of all the grunts and moans.”

“Good.”

Hold on… grunts and… moans?

“Oh please, don't look so horrified,” he said with a click of his tongue. “A much welcome distraction considering how tedious it's been in here.”

Typical.

A scowl settled on your face as you shifted across the mattress, pulling your knees up together and increasing the distance between you two.

The faint earthy and citrusy scent of bergamot enveloped you, and your eyes fluttered shut.

For someone who was bound to live in the shadows and prowl the streets after the sun went down, Astarion surely carried the fragrance that resembled Summer days the most.

You didn't feel cold even in this damp-filled cell.

It wasn't even related to the cloak itself, as it wasn't thick enough to make much of a difference.

No.

It was purely an unavoidable consequence of being near him.

Even in his icy coldness, Astarion brought out warmth that would put the most fierce of flames pale in comparison.

“What's on your mind?”

His purring voice snapped you from your thoughts, and you blinked the tiredness away, ignoring his question. “What time is it?”

“Judging from how the guards are way past the threshold of sobriety… my guess is that it's close to midday.”

You slowly dragged yourself up into a sitting position, heaving a deep sigh. “I just want to get out of here.”

“Well, we can.”

“Astarion.”

He turned his head to you. “What? You are a powerful sorcerer. They wouldn't stand a chance.”

It was a proper observation, and it surely wasn't an attempt at stroking your ego. He had seen enough of your abilities to know you could have metal melt if you so desired.

But still… “I'm sure Wyll will come soon.”

He let out a sound of pure discontent. “Yes. Your prince charming shall be here soon to save the day.”

You simply ignored him.

And Astarion hated being ignored.

So, naturally, he made sure he had your attention.

“I would just like to point out that–”

His voice died in your ears as the sound of steady paces echoed across the halls with salutes being exchanged.

You immediately lunged forward, leaving his cloak behind before pressing your face against the bars and gripping them tightly.

“Excuse me? I was talking to you.”

Astarion's outrage would have to be put on hold for the time being.

You recognised that voice and that level of respect mimicked by the guards outside.

“Wyll!”

Astarion joined your side in an instant, as the Grand Duke came into sight.

His face was heavy and he didn't bear a reassuring smile. It was such a foreign look on him, it gave you whiplash.

Your hopeful smile eventually dropped as he approached you.

“My friends, what an unfortunate turn of events.”

He placed one hand atop yours and you nodded eagerly. “Please. We are not guilty of whatever they are accusing us of.”

His young face eased slightly. “So you haven't committed any crime?”

“That's the general definition,” Astarion chimed him, visibly annoyed.

“Why am I not surprised you are involved in this?” Wyll retorted, but his words – unlike Astarion's – held no ill-intent.

“Oh, I thought you were aware that I'm the root of all evil in Baldur's Gate?” he said, voice dripping with cutthroat sarcasm. “Your psychic powers must be below par as of late, Wyll.”

You shot him a death glare, wanting nothing more than to cast Silence on him.

However, Wyll let out a loud and heartfelt laughter that had the other prisoners whine and rattle against the bars of their enclosure.

“Charming as always – even under such dire circumstances.”

Astarion's lips held the fakest smile ever. “Glad I could be of entertainment.”

“Especially considering that I'm most likely your only way out of this.” Wyll said in a tone that prickled the hair at the nape of your neck.

Great.

Astarion and his never-ending ability to annoy people beyond oblivion.

“Yes, I'm sure Circus of the Last Days is one clown short,” you said maliciously, side-eyeing him. “Maybe he'd prefer it over there.”

He dreaded clowns in a way that was almost comical, and your remark was enough to silence him at once, but not without having him shoot daggers with his intense stare.

Wyll cleared his throat, his eyes fixed on you. “Listen. I believe in your innocence, my friend.”

Your heart soared high.

“However…”

Ah, yes. There was always an inconvenient ‘however’ somewhere.

“I must look into this matter further, as the Council of Four demands. If it were solely up to me, I would have you out of here right now.”

Your heart plummeted to the ground at once.

“But it is up to you. You have the final word,” Astarion pointed out.

“Be it as it may, I cannot favour acquaintances when an alleged crime is committed.”

Astarion scoffed. “Demoting us from friends to acquaintances in under thirty seconds. My, my… and you worried I was the power-hungry one of the group.”

Wyll placed his hand on your shoulder and you glared intensely at him. “Give me a few hours, and I will see to it that you get out of here.”

He wasn't being deceitful in the slightest. Wyll's sense of righteousness and moral compass were nearly always fine tuned.

Besides, you had nothing to fear.

Justice was on your side.

But there was clearly someone out there who wasn't, and that made your skin crawl.

Which begged the question… “Why do you believe in our innocence? I mean… I was expecting an interrogation at the very least.”

He gave you a sincere smile of affection. “My dear friend, I know you well enough to doubt your words. This crime doesn't suit you. Besides, across those weeks together, I was able to find hope where there was none. You joined forces with the unlikeliest of allies and turned on potential ones to help us all out – to help Baldur's Gate.”

A looming sense of discomfort was brewing deep inside as his words hit you.

It wasn't so much that he was exaggerating or singing praises that you were undeserving of, but you would have never made it that far on your own.

Not without him.

Or even without Astarion.

“This city is indebted to you,” he went on, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I am sure this misunderstanding will be resolved soon, but I'm afraid protocols and bureaucracy must still be addressed properly.”

You reluctantly nodded, knowing deep down that he was right.

His position was one that came with great responsibility, and it would be folly of him to not act in accordance to what was expected of him as Grand Duke.

“If you wish, I could have you moved to an overground cell – just in case Astarion is being too overbearing,” he quickly added.

“No, no. I reckon I can withstand a few more hours in his presence before losing my sanity,” you chuckled at him.

“You do know I can hear you, don't you?” Astarion said with a dramatic roll of his eyes.

“I shall have some fruit sent over.”

“Thank you.”

He nodded and turned his head to Astarion. “Is there anything I can get you?”

“Yes, you can get me out of here.”

Wyll pursed his lips firmly together.

You hit with a ‘be nice’ scowl, which had him heave a deep sigh. “Alright, alright. I don't require any blood just yet. Our dear friend was kind enough to let me feed on her a few days ago.”

“Right.”

Wyll wasn't amused in the slightest and you couldn't blame him. It wasn't an ideal arrangement, and he was a monster hunter at heart, which only fueled his dislike for Astarion boasting about it.

With a final nod, he took his leave even as prisoners banged on the bars of their cells in a failed attempt at taunting him.

Once again, you pressed your forehead against the bars. “We're getting out of here soon.”

Astarion was leaning on his side against the door, eyeing you. “You know, darling… I do wonder if you're trying to convince me or yourself at this point.”

You didn't reply.

But it was probably both.

“So… who do you think got us into this mess?”

“Oh, I do so love guessing games,” he said, securing the cloak around him before sitting down on his mattress. “Well, I'm sure our list of foes didn't thin out even with the heroic display to save the city.”

Good point.

You took a hungry bite from an apple. “Hmm… it'd be less of a nuisance to just kill us, no?”

“If by ‘us’ you mean ‘you’, then sure. I don't die easily, as I know you're aware, darling.”

Another good point, even though a wooden stake might beg to differ.

“Maybe it really is just one big misunderstanding.”

“... but?”

You glared at him with furrowed brows. “But what?”

He shrugged. “Isn't there always a ‘but’?”

Your mind had begun to wander into other possibilities, each new one more alarming than the previous.

It was particularly daunting to wonder whether this Ava woman had had a hand in this.

Should you even bring it up to him? Maybe.

“Well?” He pressed, crimson eyes never leaving yours. “I know you have something on your mind, so feel free to share with the audience, darling.”

You hesitated at first, unsure it would be the wisest choice. He was clearly fond of her, but you just couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that she could be up to something.

Or maybe it was just wishful thinking.

Maybe you were simply allowing your protective feelings over Astarion to get in the way and cloud your judgment.

Maybe she was nothing more than a mere courtesan and not some scheming criminal.

Besides… what reason would she have to frame both of you for this?

The more you thought about it, the more ridiculous it sounded, so you chose to keep it to yourself.

“I'm inclined to believe we were set up, but I don't know by whom,” you eventually said, not intending on passing out accusations just yet.

His eyes narrowed. “You're not being truthful.”

Thrown for a loop, you blinked. “You think I'm lying?”

“I know you're lying.”

You gave him a sour glare. “I suppose it takes one to know one.”

He actually genuinely laughed at your remark. “Touché, my dear.”

One didn't easily win the title of charlatan over nothing, after all.

He'd spent decades honing his skill in the art of deception, which had you falling for his sweet lies so easily when you two first met.

Not wanting to go down that road, you shove the memory aside and focused on the apple in your hand instead.

Silence settled heavily around you, only broken by your occasional bites.

The door to the prison hall swung open all of a sudden, but neither of you shifted.

It was probably nightfall by now, and you had gotten used to the intrusive sounds that erupted from time to time.

Hurried steps caught your attention and you turned to find Wyll by the bars.

You scrambled out of bed as fast as a lightning bolt with Astarion following suit.

“You're getting out of here.”

An overwhelming wave of relief washed over you and you could nearly cry of joy.

“Finally. Took you long enough.” Astarion said.

Wyll's face dropped slightly. “It is not without compromise, I'm afraid.”

Oh.

It was to be expected, really…

“The council has agreed to further the investigations without the need of imprisonment, so long as you stay confined to your place for the time being,” he went on, as two Fists joined his side, carrying your belongings. “With two guards stationed outside at all times.”

“Essentially treating us like criminals, then,” Astarion scoffed, clearly put out.

“You are suspected of being criminals,” Wyll pointed out. “I am quite certain it will only be for a couple of days, so do not fret.”

It seemed like a fair deal and, at this point, you would give anything to get out of this prison.

“Wait – hold on. What do you mean ‘your place’?”

Wyll glared at him in confusion. “Aren't you staying with the rest of the group?”

“No?” He pulled out a face of disgust as if Wyll had just implied he had been offered to share an accommodation with a pack of stinky gnolls.

“I did invite him – more than once.”

“And I declined every single time.”

You rolled your eyes.

As much as you had earlier wished to part ways with Astarion after that heated argument, you were more than willing to move past that for the greater good.

“Well, now would be an opportune time to accept the invitation,” Wyll said, motioning for the guards to unlock the door. “You will be escorted back to your place and await further instructions.”

Grabbing your belongings, you hurried past the door to walk alongside Wyll while both guards flanked you.

“What about my clothes? I need a couple of changes, then,” Astarion inquired as he expertly fastened the dagger holsters around his thigh and waist. “I'm staying at The Blushing Mermaid.”

He did have an interesting set of priorities, given the current predicament…

“We will have someone fetch it for you.”

“Ask for a woman named Ava. She will know what to pack.”

Wyll nodded in silence.

You nearly scoffed, but managed to disguise it as a throaty cough, which earned Wyll's attention.

“I'm afraid these dungeons are riddled with dust and present less than ideal conditions, my friend.”

You cleared your throat with a faint remorseful smile, already feeling guilty for your deception.

The torch-lit tunnel extended as far as the eye could see, and it seemed like forever before you finally made it topside.

The barracks were buzzing with whispers and intense glares, with each Flaming Fist saluting the Grand Duke as he made his way through the building.

A quick glance through the window and you realised the sun had already set.

Convenient for Astarion.

Wyll's feet came to a halt before the closed shut and sturdy double door.

“I am terribly sorry that we had to meet again under such grim circumstances, but I trust this matter will be resolved soon.”

You gave him a warm smile of gratitude. “Thank you for this, Wyll. I'm sure you were met with resistance.”

He chuckled. “Quite the resistance, but I believe being power-hungry does hold its advantages, right, Astarion?”

“I suppose.”

There was not a single part of Wyll that was power-hungry. He had earned the title and his position within Baldur's Gate elite. No one was more deserving of it.

“A ‘thank you’ would suffice, but I'm guessing that's as close to it as I'll get,” Wyll said in amusement as Astarion frowned.

You gave him a fleeting hug, earning some disapproving glares – including from Astarion.

“Thank you, Wyll.”

“You are most welcome. We'll talk soon.”

Parting ways, you stepped into the night with both Flaming Fists following closely behind.

“Well, I'm glad that's been dealt with.” You said in an attempt to break the layer of silence.

“Hardly. I'm merely hopping from one prison to another,” he muttered bitterly. “But I suppose it could be worse.”

As you hurried along the busy city streets, you noticed the inquisitive glares from passers-by. After all, being escorted by two guards often meant trouble.

“Come to think of it, this is entirely your fault.”

Your head snapped at him. “What?”

He nodded. “If you hadn't cast Sleep, we wouldn't be in this situation to begin with.”

You scolwed. “Seriously, Astarion? You were about to gut him open!”

“It would have been a better fate than what he actually deserved,” he bit back. “But that damned swirly pink spell drew too much attention.”

You shouldn't have been surprised that he was lashing out, but it still annoyed you to no end that he refused to acknowledge his part in this.

“You have some nerve to pin this on me when you were the one causing a ruckus.”

He was glaring at you like you'd just grown a third arm. “Remind me again who yelled out as they were casting a spell.”

“I didn't yell–”

One of the guards behind you cleared his throat, effectively silencing you.

Arguing with Astarion was about as pointless as fighting the sun from rising. He always had to have the final word.

You sighed. “This is pointless.”

“Agreed.”

As your house came into view, you began to make out a couple of figures by the door.

Gale and Shadowheart.

You heard Astarion immediately scoff once you were close enough. “Please be quiet.”

Gale frowned slightly. “What? I didn't utter a single word.”

“Oh, I know. I'm just practicing this line for the future.”

Shadowheart intervened before the wizard could. “Wyll informed us of what happened. Are you well?”

You nodded. “Within reason.”

She embraced you tightly. “I am sure this will all be resolved soon.”

“A very bizarre event, no doubt,” Gale said, patting your back affectionately. “This city is crawling with the most vile of creatures, indeed.”

The three of you made your way inside, and a dramatic cough was heard.

You turned to see Astarion standing by the doorway, and then it dawned on you that he would need a literal verbal invitation in order to walk in.

“Oh! Right… sorry… you may come in, Astarion.”

He didn't need to be told twice, taking careful steps at first just in case.

Upon concluding it was safe to continue, he made his way into the kitchen area, taking in his surroundings in silence.

Lae'zel was nowhere to be found, and you reckoned she might have gone out to hunt in the surrounding Baldurian woods.

“Your belongings are upstairs, already,” Shadowheart informed him as she leaned against a wood pillar. “I wasn't sure how to make a vampire abode feel more homely in such short notice, so you'll have to excuse the lack of frivolous and decadent decoration.”

He waved a hand dismissively, heading towards the staircase. “No need to concern yourself with it, darling. I'm not staying for long.”

You watched him round the corner and disappear into the hall.

“Your room is to your left, Astarion,” you called after him.

His footsteps halted and you smiled in amusement.

“Ah – yes. I was merely taking a look,” he said, reappearing at the top of the staircase again with a disapproving look on his face. “I must say… awful and dull decoration. This has Gale written all over it.”

You reckoned having Astarion stay over would prove more of a challenge than you had initially anticipated.

Series Masterlist

Sharing a house with Astarion under such circumstances.... what could possibly go wrong 😌

Next chapter: Confrontation

I don't keep taglists, so feel free to subscribe to it on Ao3 to get alerts 🩷

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x female tav #astarion smut #astarion x female reader #astarion x you #astarion x mc #astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion x f!tav #astarion x f!reader #astarion angst #astarion scenario

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nicksbestie · 5 days

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Migraines - M. Sturniolo

Summary : Matt struggles with chronic migraines, and some days there isn't much that you can do, but that never means you don't try,

Warnings : mentions of vomiting and nausea, a small bit of crying

Word Count : 1313

Pairing : Matt Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)

A/N : i got inspo from this photo of matt <3

Living an entire two decades of life with chronic migraines was an absolutely miserable thing.

Matt was nearing his twenty-first birthday, and he was desperate to find something in his life that would help with these migraines. He had gone through prescription after prescription, doctor appointment after doctor appointment, specialist after specialist, and nothing had helped the splitting pain. He had a migraine tracker on his phone so that he could tell the percentage of how often he had migraines, and it was well over sixty percent of every month. It was quite depressing to look at, and even more depressing to live. It really affected Matt’s happiness and day to day life.

All of their YouTube videos were filmed on Matt’s good days. They would change outfits so that they could film five to six videos in one day, gathering a lot of topics so that they would have tons to post when it came time to put them all up. Both of his brothers were incredibly caring and didn’t mind the way that they had to do things, and both wanted to do everything possible to make it easier for their middle sibling. They rode with Matt in an Uber every time his migraine was too bad for him to drive, so that he wouldn’t have to be alone, especially at a doctor’s office, a place he was already generally hesitant to be at. They truly were always by his side, arguing with doctors that told him it was anxiety based, or that he was exaggerating, when he didn’t have the energy to argue for himself.

Today was a bad day for him. Chris and Nick had left before Matt had woken up, so they had no idea that he was struggling, because the light from his phone, even at the lowest setting, wasn’t low enough to not send stabbing pains through his head, so he hadn’t texted. He hadn’t had the energy to call and speak to them either. All he had done was gotten up and shut the blinds, covering them up with blackout screens that he had bought a couple years back, because he needed all of the light out. They worked incredibly well, and he had cut off the dim lighting in his room that he’d slept with, needing complete darkness.

He had no idea how long he had laid there, he just knew he was in pain. Unbeknownst to him, when you noticed that he didn’t reply to your text, you were immediately concerned, and already on your way over. You’d seen that he’d read it, so you knew he was awake, and he hadn’t replied. He never left you on read, unless he couldn’t bear to look at his phone screen any longer, which meant he had a terrible migraine. You’d wasted no time getting ready, and due to the fact that Matt didn’t wake up until almost two in the afternoon, you didn’t get over there until almost four. You had your own key, both because of instances like these, and because of the fact that you had been together for almost two years now. Letting yourself in, you texted Chris and Nick, telling them that you were there as well.

You wasted no time in going upstairs, gently opening Matt’s door, and immediately closing it behind you, because while the light in the hallway wasn’t on, the daylight would filter in, and you knew it would aggravate his head. Seeing him face down on the bed, under covers and pillows, you gently whispered your greeting, telling him so he wouldn’t freak out, though you doubted he had the energy to freak out on you. You pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, rubbing his back and laying down next to him. He curled into your chest, and you could see the remnants of tear tracks on his face. You laid a kiss to his forehead, gently running your hand over it and through his hair. Your hands were a cooler temperature, and you could tell that it felt good and soothed his pain for a few seconds. You laid a palm on his forehead, wanting to help him feel better any way that you could.

You laid with him for about an hour, helping hold the trash can at the side of his bed when the pain got to be so bad that it caused him to throw up, helping wipe his face off and get him laid back down, before realizing he hadn’t eaten anything all day, so it probably wouldn’t get much better. You laid there for a little while longer, thinking about what to do to help him, when you remembered a trick that had helped you when you had a terrible migraine one day. You softly untangled yourself from him, whispering that he could stay right there and you would be right back.

You went into the bathroom, turning a small, very dim, light on in the corner so you could see what was going on around you. You began running a warm bath, letting it run while you went to get Matt a small snack. You set it down on the edge of the bathtub, on the side touching the wall, and went to go get your boyfriend. You picked out some clean clothes for him, grabbed him the water bottle from his nightstand as well, and led him to the bathroom. He knew where it was, of course, but the thought of opening his eyes for the chance of any light just made the pain intensify, so he trusted you to guide him.

By this point, the tub was about three quarters of the way full, and you helped him get in. You knew he hadn’t showered that day, and the warm water on your legs and feet helped with your migraines, so you hoped it would help him as well. Judging by the way his face began to relax once he was in the tub, his back against your chest, you were glad it took away a little bit of his pain. You kept the temperature of the bathroom cooler so that he wouldn’t overheat, but not enough for him to get cold. His eyes stayed closed, but they were a calm closed, not a scrunched, wincing in pain, closed. He didn’t speak much, but he took the water and food that he was offered, and a gentle smile crossed his face the longer he sat in the tub.

The longer you stayed there with him, gently running your hands through his hair, the more his breathing evened out, and the deeper it got, and eventually, you realized he had fallen asleep. He had been so tired from being in pain, even though he had only been up for about four hours, that when the pain had lessened dramatically, his body was so exhausted that he just fell asleep in comfortable arms. You stayed there with him until the water went cold, and even longer after that, because you couldn’t bear to disturb him. After about half an hour, you softly shook him awake, gently helping him stand. By this point, you had both basically air dried, and Matt only pulled on boxers and loose shorts to sleep in. You tugged on one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers as well, going back to bed with him.

As soon as he hit the bed, he was about to fall asleep again, and you pulled him back into your arms. You never minded taking care of him, knowing that he loved you more than words could say, and as he whispered a soft “I love you” into your chest, you knew you could do this for him for the rest of your life, and you could die happy.

“I love you more.”

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diejager · 2 months

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I know this kinda sounds stupid- but can you do a feral deer reader who was found by the task force? The reader has some magical healing abilities, so she ended up captured and hired as a medic. Since the reader never really communicated with humans/ other hybrids and was mostly by herself, she doesn't understand social stuff. For example, she can be convinced that getting groped is a greeting, and she'll agree since she never interacted with other hybrids before. So she's pretty much oblivious.

If possible- make her a bit fluffy? 👉👈

I’m going to make this the continuation to Doe because I can!! Muhahahahahah!!!!!! ψ(｀∇´)ψ

Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, non-con touching, magic, hybrid, groping, tell me if I missed any.

You were introduced to Laswell after the mission, dressed in better clothing than the tattered dress you wore, antlers cleaned from all the leaves and officially claimed by the Task Force, you found a place in their group. Going through a few rough patches and scuffles to get you out of your home, they watched you tend to your wounds, your hands glowing over the scrapes and tongue lapping at your bleeding fingers. Your… ability was the driving nail that forced Laswell to bend to their words, she’d been hounding them to get a medic or someone with better medical knowledge than the four of them combined.

After all the paperwork and sweat, Price had the honour of locking the pretty collar they team bought you around your neck, the insignia gleaming under the office light was the final step to bind you to them as your handlers, a poor and fragile, little deer they saved from the freezing Canadian wilderness. But in all honesty, all they did was separate you from your herd, the warmer spring announcing the end of your antlers and the growth of a new set, it made frolicking and dancing easier than winter did. You were plucked from everything you knew, ripped from your lush forest and livelihood where you watched over the fauna and little critters that came to you for healing, and forcefully placed in a dead and unfeeling world where grey buildings towered over the forests and life restrained to small patches of dying soil. It made you uncomfortable, but the binding words the four men - human men - and the nice but stoic lady (she looked so tired, it made your hands itch to soothe her aches) shared with you made it seem like it was impossible for you to return to your home.

“This is your new home, sweetheart,” the bear-like man said, his gruff voice and imposing figure had you shuddering in your seat, much more than the energetic man with electric, blue eyes that you then learned was Soap.

You wanted to argue, but your voice died in your throat when they all stared at you with dark and expectant eyes, seemingly anticipating submission and obedience from you as a deer. How could you fight when they held such an oppressive air around them, but perhaps it was just their broad and muscular bodies that made your nerves bristle; perhaps they were nicer than they looked, gentler and tender like the way that man with brown eyes held you in the metal bird, whispering sweet and comforting words; or perhaps they were truly mean and dominating, like some pack of wolves that shared your home. You hoped they were as nice as the Gaz, who made you call him by his… real name? You were confused, but you did as he asked, calling him Kyle unlike the other men.

You gave Price a muted nod, eyes cast down and fingers scratching and pulling at your restrictive clothes, feeling too covered and your skin too sensitive by all the irritating fabrics and silks. It hadn’t taken them much time to intergrate you in their schedule, finding you a place in their group to stare at and work despite your clear confusion about the social norms and your sudden duty. The human world was a stranger to you, foreign acts and alien words that you needed help with: you could read some words while others were completely incomprehensible for your feral mind, or your confusion about the use for phones and anything too advanced had you fumbling with your words.

It’s good that you had them to help you, no?

Price made you attend classes with him and Ghost, being taught the alphabet and complicated words after the training drills and morning rituals, sometimes seated between them, squeezed so tightly between their broad shoulders, and other times seated on their laps, their shadow looming over you when they bent over to show you something. They touched you a lot, Ghost having less restraint than his Captain, his rough, gloveless fingers sliding beneath your shirt and groping the softness of your stomach and kneading your breasts, feeling its weight and perky nipples. You squirmed on his lap, whined out your discomfort, used to physical interaction in your herd, but never something so forward, but Ghost had reassured you that this was a normal human behaviour towards someone they cared deeply for.

Price kept his to your stomach and ass, feeling the fat of your cheeks and occasionally standing a hit, drinking in your yelps and whimpers from his touches. He, alike Ghost did, assured you that it was normal that he hooked his arm around your hip and holding you flushed to his side, his musky scent wafting around you like a thick cloud of smoke. He ruffled your hair once your antlers fell, petting you like he would a dog, carding through your washed locks and chuckling when your ears twitched from being handled. He would often call you to his office at random times, allegedly wanting you to train healing them since humans were slightly different than hybrids and having you lick his paper cut with your pink tongue. He liked shoving two fingers down your throat and pumping until you gagged and choked, drooling down his wrist while he breathed heavily and palmed himself.

Gaz and Soap helped you with other things: understanding human behaviour, training you mind and body and helping you around the base when you were lost and disoriented. Both men were enthused to be your chaperone, excited to take part in your schooling in other ways. Gaz lead you around the base hand in hand, his fingers intertwined with yours in a strong and unmoving grip while he pulled you forward, your tail flicking anxiously when people gazed your way, their eyes probing your uniform-clad figure. He was more upfront than the older men, pulling you to his chest and cuddling you in public areas, the bigger rec room, the mess hall or the gym, nuzzling the crook of your neck, lips drawling pretty words on your throat and shoulder and hair tickling your skin, mumbling the sweetest praises despite your obvious stiffness.

Soap, not unlike Gaz, had you call him Johnny (Ghost called him that too, you quickly found out) and was the touchiest of the four, always placing a hand on you even in awkward and weird situations. Soap was more animalistic than the others, panting and huffing when he spent too long around you, rutting your thigh like a wolf in rut or another reindeer deep in the season, you were quite sure this one wasn’t that much of a norm, seeing people avert their eyes or Ghost scruffing Soap and hissing degrading words. He especially loved sparring with you, pinning you on the mat, hand wrapped around your nap and putting his weight on your struggling body. He’d grind his hard bulge against your ass, ignoring your cries and whines, happily huffing and groaning in your ear while Gaz and Ghost watched on, admiring the sight, a pretty and vulnerable deer with little stubs and flickering ears, writhing under the mutt of the Task Force.

Even if your initial use was for healing wounds and supporting the team, they found a secondary task for you in all the chaos and caution, to help you open up to them faster and easier. It’d only take a few kisses, cuddling and sessions until you grow attune and accept your new home.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts

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thecolorblockcurator · 11 months

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It’s taking a lot of effort to not block anyone tagging my art as q slur.

It sounds like a lot of you might might need to learn some queer history. Which is fine - there is no shame in learning our history. We don’t get taught it- you have to go and specifically look for it.

It’s also important to note- Every single lgbtqia+ community label has been thrown back at us as slur. There isn’t a single one that homophobic, transphobic people haven’t used in a derogatory way. If we collectively decided to call ourselves Humans as our only lgbtqia+ label - no doubt there would be hateful people screaming back at us. Those types of people hate us - and no matter how sanitized, and pure - and free from any stigma you present your queer self - they will still hate us.

Queer was strategically chosen as an umbrella term during the protests in the late 1980 & 90s. If you’re not aware of the AIDS crisis- please learn about it. It was brutal -and the disgusting response from the government, conservatives, religious extremists was - they were happy that it was happening. They let hundreds of thousands of queer people die because they thought we deserved it. It was a truly horrific medical emergency that was purposefully ignored for many years.

So “We’re here, we’re queer, we’re not going to disappear.” became one of the slogans people would yell during marches and protests.

Queer was chosen because it wasn’t sterilized, sanitized, it wasn’t an assimilated, quiet version of being lgbtqia+. It was fucking in your face queer.

You couldn’t ignore it- we weren’t going to hide away in shame, or keep things wrapped up in secret like previous generations. Homophobic , transphobic people had to deal with the fact that queer people existed- and would always exist & there was nothing they could do or say to change that.

Because that’s exactly what they wanted. They wanted assimilation, or total nonexistence of all queer people. And unfortunately they still do.

Which is why seeing “the q slur” is so messed up. It’s giving that sanitized, reagan administration evangelical morality - homophobic, transphobic people everything they had hoped for. A fear based response of - if I make make myself as palatable as possible will you finally respect me?

Here is an amazing photo by Dan Nicolette that I think encapsulates that idea of what queer meant. I’m not going disappear, make myself easier for you homophobes to digest.

#queer history #queer #queer pride #pride #pride month #lgbtqia+#wes

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azrielbrainrot · 21 days

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I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 5

Azriel x Reader

Description: Azriel would give anything to hold you one more time.

Warnings: Violence, Torture, Gore (nothing too graphic)

Word Count: 4715

Notes: This took a while to write, I'm sorry about that but life has been kicking my ass. I really hope it makes enough sense because I've found I'm not very good at writing action scenes (but that's also not the main focus). Hope you enjoy!

Part 4

The moon was high in the sky, its pale light guiding your way through the forest. The air was strangely quiet, the leaves crunching beneath your feet were the only thing that could be heard between the trees. Even the wind was serene and no animal dared make a sound, as if sensing what was to come. The atmosphere allowed you to keep your composure, any incoming threats would be easier to detect like this. Unfortunately, so would your allies.

It's funny how so much can change in a matter of days. Before, when you were only a relatively low ranking member of the guild, walking through the dark woods as you are doing now would simply be the norm, whether you were on a mission or not, but, after everything you learned, not having Azriel and his shadows near you makes you feel off-kilter, like you can't protect him if he stands too far from you.

If it weren't for the millions of problems that keep piling on, you'd probably sit on this feeling, dissecting it until you realize how peculiar it actually is for you to feel so achingly connected to the shadowsinger who, even if had been your husband during a time of your life you've now forgotten, was essentially a stranger to you now. You've only really known him for about two weeks, not nearly enough time to be feeling like a part of you is missing.

You weren't used to worrying about anyone else at times like these. Even when your missions weren't solo, you didn't actually know your coworkers, much less cared if they survived or not. But now, you can't stop thinking about all the ways this could go wrong, of how Azriel and his family could get hurt because of you. You stayed up thinking about this all night, if this would all be truly worth it just to get your memories back, but had decided that you wanted to know what happened, no matter the cost, and knew that, as much as the Inner Circle was helping you recover your memories, not all their motives were altruistic. They all wanted revenge as much as you did.

All of you had planned this out meticulously, going down to every last detail and considering every possible outcome. Everyone was also extra careful on how to approach using you as bait. You expected it from Azriel - he's been protective of you ever since you stepped foot into his High Lord's home - but seeing the rest of them so worried about you made you want to recover your memories that much more. You want to remember these people, want to know how they all, especially Azriel, came to care for you, so much so that even death didn't stop those feelings.

There had been other plans brought up, ones that didn't involve putting you in such a risky situation, but it was soon decided that the only way to get to Norris would be to show up alone. If he so much as caught a glimpse of anyone else, you know he would simply run and if he truly put his guard up and went into hiding, finding him would be nearly impossible even with Azriel's spies and shadows at his disposal, he hadn't found you after all.

The tree you were looking for comes into view as you get lost in your thoughts, the magic traces left behind on its bark unmistakably familiar. The guild has used this system for as long as you've been a part of it. Every important meeting with your handler had taken place next to any object or area marked with this exact faint magic, enough for the attuned eye to pick up on but not so strong that anyone else might come across them and meddle where they're not welcomed.

You don't have to wait by the marked tree for long before an imposing figure appears beside you. He had probably been watching you for as long as you've winnowed into the edge of the treeline, keeping his eyes on you as you walked to the meeting place. The air shifts, the wind picking up slightly as if sensing the tension threatening to form in your body.

Turning around as casually as possible, you face your former handler, the male you thought had saved your life but you've now learned did quite the opposite. Not that there had been any particularly fond feelings between you and him, but it still hurts to know how easily the male manipulated you and turned your entire life around with no remorse.

He was mostly covered with a black hood, only a bit of his face being visible through the shadow it cast, enough to meet his eyes. You've only seen him without it a few times, you know that dark brown hair lays under the hood and a few scars adorn his face. Truthfully, you're not even sure if this isn't some intricate glamour. Nothing that comes from this male should be trusted.

His form gives nothing away, no nerves or suspicions, but his brown eyes rake over your body, searching for something. Since he thinks you've just crawled out of a cell or worse, he's probably looking for any signs of injury, or that you've betrayed him and the guild. It's best you don't let him find anything that tells him otherwise.

“Norris,” you greet him as you would any other time, nodding once at him with a passive expression.

He crosses his arms and meets your eyes when he hears your voice. His eyes dart over the forest around you as if he knew Azriel would be lurking in the shadows. His self assured expression doesn't help with your nerves. Norris always seems like he's three steps ahead, and more often than not he was actually four.

“I didn't think I'd see you again,” he finally speaks up.

“I thought so too.”

Norris hums in response. You're not sure if he believes you or not, but short and distant answers are the norm for him. Either way, you need to stick to the plan, there's no turning back now. “How did you escape the Night Court?”

“They thought I was someone else, someone they used to know,” you start, trying to convey some of the confusion you'd experienced the first time they told you who you were. He knows you well enough to expect you to have some trouble maintaining the same level of apathy he so easily displays, he'd warned you multiple times to act more like an assassin and not let your emotions get the best of you. “It eventually led to a fight between the High Lord and his Spymaster. They couldn't agree on what to do with me from what I heard. I managed to escape in the chaos.”

You stop for a second, licking your lips. You decided not to completely lie to him so it would be more believable, this version of events could have come true had you not trusted Azriel, had your feelings not been so suffocating and confusing.

“I waited for a while before contacting you, to make sure they didn't come looking for me,” you continue eventually, the fact that he isn't asking more questions makes your heart pick up ever so slightly.

He turns his head to the side, a faint smirk playing at his lips. You resist the urge to clench your sweaty palms, not wanting to let him see through you. “Who did they think you were?”

“The Spymaster's former wife,” you admitted, hoping you sounded as detached as possible.

“And what do you think about it?”

“What?”

“Do you believe them?” You didn't expect him to ask you outright. It would make more sense for him to try to cover it up, stopping any doubts you might have had before they grew.

“Of course not. I've never been married,” the lie tastes wrong on your tongue but you make sure not to let any of it translate into your body language or your voice. Which is why you're so caught off guard by his next words. “I think you're lying to me.”

Norris turns you around and grabs you to him before you have a chance to react, pulling you flush against his chest and pressing a dagger to your neck, power rumbling under his skin, raising the hairs on the back of your neck at its intensity. This isn't that surprising to you since you were more than aware of how much faster and stronger he was, and that tricking him would be extremely hard, but this means you need to move to plan B. And you were really hoping you could avoid a direct conflict like this.

Azriel is the first one to show himself, emerging from the shadows with deadly calm, hazel eyes never straying from Norris as his hand hovers Truth Teller. As much as you try to keep calm and not give anything away, you know Norris can feel you tense up and hear your heartbeat picking up when you see the shadowsinger walking straight into danger.

You feel another presence behind you, Morrigan, followed by Cassian and Amren on each side. The sisters had stayed behind, despite their many protests. In case anything happened, Velaris needed its High Lady and the Valkyries at least. You also know this is a personal matter for the fae present, you had been their friend and been ripped away from their lives by the male currently holding you at knife point, threatening to end your life once again, for good this time.

They all start walking slowly to you, effectively forming a circle around the two of you, getting ready to attack if Norris hurts you or tries to run. He appeared as calm as if he had just been caught on a night stroll, his heartbeat never rising in tempo against your back even under Azriel's chilling stare. He had been expecting your betrayal, and had been ready for them.

You could feel the fury in the air, could see it written in Azriel's eyes as he studied every single one of Norris' movements. You had been worried that he wouldn't be able to keep his composure since he was against this plan from the start, in fear of this exact situation coming true. But he seemed completely focused, not even risking looking at you too long in case he'd get distracted. This made you relax ever so slightly. You'd planned out for this situation and even if you ended up hurt or worse, you know Azriel won't let Norris go unharmed. You would get your revenge one way or another, you just hoped you could spare the male in front of you any more pain.

Rhysand winnows in next to Azriel moments later, darkness clinging to him as he takes a few steps closer to you nonchalantly. Talons scratching your mental walls before checking in on you. All according to plan.

“I would say it's a pleasure to meet you but even I can't spin a lie so effortlessly,” he starts, arrogance dripping in every word. You'd never admit it, much less to him, but Rhysand was every bit the perfect High Lord, especially at times like these. It showed in the way he carried himself down to the seemingly bottomless pit of power at his disposal. No matter how strong Norris is, anyone with even a little of self preservation would think twice on how to handle him.

“I came prepared for your little tricks, High Lord.”

You frown at his words, confusion settling over you before you realize what it meant. Rhysand must have tried getting inside his mind as soon as he appeared. Norris had expected him to, had put up walls to ensure it didn't happen. This would only make things harder.

“Skipping pleasantries, are we?” Rhysand's face gives nothing away, but as he drops said pleasantries, it gives way to some of the anger bubbling under the surface, the next words coming out in a serious tone. “You're not walking out of here, Norris.”

“I wouldn't be so sure,” Norris says as he leans in closer to your ear, voice dropping to a whisper, “Did you think I would come on my own?”

A sinking feeling grows in your stomach as you watch dark figures manifesting all around you, far outnumbering your group. You recognize some of them, know their clothes and masks mean they're assassins from the guild.

A fight breaks out right before your eyes, causing you to struggle desperately for the first time in Norris' arms. He tries to keep you in place by letting the blade touch your skin as a warning, a few drops of blood escaping the small wound. You know he could easily kill you, but you're also aware that if he did the chances of him escaping would drop to zero. That's the only reason you're still breathing, so he can use you as a shield.

Your eyes were following Azriel's shadow covered form as he fought against multiple attackers, the feeling of helplessness rising with each clank of his sword. You can't stand there and wait any longer, so you grab the blade still positioned dangerously close to your throat and wrap your fingers around it tightly so it cuts your hand instead of your neck while swinging your elbow back to try to push off of Norris. Just as you expected, you weren't strong enough and he pulled the knife back from your grasp, intending to stab your stomach to stop you, but you had a new trick up your sleeve.

Azriel's shadows had moved to you as soon as Norris grabbed you, crawling up your legs discreetly in the dark of night, where they stayed waiting for your signal. And, as they tasted your blood in the air, they engulfed Norris, giving you enough room to push back and to elbow him a few more times, also letting off some of your power and finally being able to release yourself from his hold.

The shadows aren't enough to keep him away from you for long, the lack of visibility barely slowing him down as he attacks you before you even have the chance to take a breath. Luckily, your little helpers' singer rushes in, getting between you and deflecting Norris' strike. He hands you a sword so you can fight back with him and pushes back against Norris without wasting a single moment.

The three of you enter a match, barely being able to pay attention to what's happening around you, though you can tell everyone is in the same predicament. Even between you and Azriel, keeping up with Norris proves difficult, he's not only an exceedingly proficient fighter but he's also familiar with your attacks and style, making it easier for him to avoid your attacks and focus more on Azriel's.

The fight goes on for longer than you'd like. Even with your and Azriel's joint efforts, you had barely managed to wound Norris. The bastard was too strong and experienced, he was one of the guild's oldest assassins for a reason.

Suddenly the sickening scent of blood reaches your nostrils, in a concentration you haven't experienced before. It makes you falter in your movements, but luckily it has the same effect on Norris, leaving him open to Azriel's attacks, who seems undisturbed by it. You risk a glance behind you, but all you can see is the rest of the Inner Circle watching the battle, while the ground and their bodies, even the trees around them, are covered in blood. You're not exactly sure what happened, what they did to completely obliterate the assassins to a point not even their bodies were left, but you don't have more time to linger on this as Azriel finally manages to get a few good hits in, leaving Norris stumbling back away from him.

Rhysand is next to you in the blink of an eye, chest rising and falling as he catches his breath. You move to help Azriel, hoping to distract Norris enough for him to be able to infiltrate his mind. It doesn't take much longer before Norris finally drops unconscious at your feet, and you immediately let out a relieved breath. Azriel's shadows move to tie him up so he has no chance of escaping.

Your plan had always been to catch Norris off guard or wear him down enough so that Rhysand would be able to infiltrate his mind, successfully knocking him out so you could take him back to the Night Court for interrogation. And, as much as you'd planned for the possibility of him bringing backup, the assassins had made this harder to achieve. You all had been worn down more than expected, but, as you look around, you see no one seems to be gravely injured.

Cassian smiles and nods at you when he notices you eyeing the blood trickling down his shoulder, it wasn't too deep of a wound and the blood was already stopping from the looks of it. Azriel did tell you Illyrians heal faster than most fae. Speaking of, you feel scarred fingers wrap around your wrist as you give Cassian a tentative smile of your own.

Your focus is stolen by Azriel, your eyes finding his instantly as he holds up your hand carefully, examining the wound and the blood that had been smeared all around you during the fight. He's wearing a conflicted expression, pain visible in his eyes. You've found Azriel shoulders too much guilt, even when what happened wasn't his fault.

His other hand reaches out to touch your neck, where a small cut overlaps with the pronounced scar on your skin. He's been blaming himself for your death for over a century, he must have been terrified of not being able to stop it again, even if it was happening right in front of him.

“I'm alright, Azriel,” you smile up at him, hoping to calm him down, “This will be gone by tomorrow.”

“We need to take you to a healer.” You shake your head, not wanting to stay behind and leave them to deal with Norris by themselves. Gently prying Azriel's hands away from you, you go to tell him as much.

“He's right,” Morrigan interjects, “I can take you to Madja and she'll fix it for you in an instant. I can bring you back right after.”

“It's just my hand.” You don't understand why they're making such a big deal out of it. This wouldn't need a healer, aside from some discomfort it won't hinder you in any way. They all have small wounds of their own that they seem to be ignoring.

“You're hurt.” There's a finality in Azriel's tone that is starting to rub you the wrong way. You understand he's concerned, you've tried to be considerate of his complicated feelings ever since you found out you had been his wife and the tragic way in which he had lost you, but that doesn't mean he can order you around.

“Barely.” You try to keep your voice leveled, pointing at Norris' unconscious form still covered in shadows. “And this is a lot more important. I need to know what he did.”

“I'll tell you everything we find. You don't need to go with us.”

“What?” You can feel the confusion taking over your features. Azriel has been forthcoming with any and every bit of information, you don't understand why he's trying to keep you away now.

“It's best if you don't come to the dungeon. You don't need to see that,” he offers, his face becoming irritatingly blank, the mask you know he uses as the Night Court's Spymaster. This only makes your anger spike even faster.

“See what?,” you challenged, head tilting to the side, “Do you think I never tortured anyone?” Your voice rises with every word, annoyance taking over your body. “I know the female you married was much different from what I am now, and I don't know if she let you order her around like this, but I'm not her.”

“I'm not ordering you-” Azriel's face falls at your words but you're too far gone to even try to interpret what it's written in his eyes, to even listen to what he has to say.

“It sure sounds like you are.”

Rhysand stands between you two before the argument can escalate further. “This is not the time to be fighting. We need to take him to a safe place before he regains conscience. I can only keep him down for so long.” He eyes Azriel for a moment, studying his features as some sort of understanding takes over his own. “Mor will take you to a healer,” he holds up a hand as you open your mouth to argue back, “It will only take a moment and then you can meet us in the dungeon. We won't start without you. I promise.”

By the expression on his face and authority behind his words, you know trying to argue with the High Lord won't take you anywhere right now. He's too used to calling all the shots and you can't change his mind in a matter of minutes, not when there's a much more pressing situation on your hands. You need to choose your battles.

You simply turn to Morrigan, ignoring the hazel eyes staring straight into your soul. “Take me to your healer then. The sooner I get this done the better.” She nods at you, extending her hand as she winnows you both back to Velaris.

The adrenaline of the fight started wearing off as the healer, Madja, worked on your hand, stitching skin back together with expert ease. As much as it had annoyed you to be sent to the infirmary, you could admit the pain had been worse than you expected as your body calmed down. It still wouldn't have been much of a problem to warrant that amount of concern.

Morrigan simply watches as the old fae works on you. She tried to talk to you about Azriel but you pushed her away, not wanting to hear any explanations from her. He's old enough to speak for himself, and you'll probably be eager to hear what he has to say after this whole situation is worked out. Right now, you only want to go back to where they're holding Norris so you can finally understand what he did to you and hopefully learn how to fix it.

Just as Madja is wrapping your hand in a white bandage, keeping the strong smelling ointment she spread in place, the healer speaks up for what feels like the first time tonight. “That boy loves you more than anything. Give him a chance to explain. I'm sure he never meant to hurt you,” she finishes as she pats your hand softly. “All done.”

Her words give you pause. It does make you wonder how obvious your and Azriel's love had been that everyone seems to have no doubt in their minds that he would do anything for you. He seems to be very private in his affairs, especially personal ones. It also makes you curious if you'd known her before, it's more than likely since she's the Inner Circle's healer. You push those thoughts away, knowing you wouldn't ask the old healer about your relationship before anyway. You were so close to getting your memories, you needed to focus on that.

“Thank you.” She gives you one more smile before gathering her things, making you stand up and rush to Morrigan, who has a somewhat nostalgic and understanding smile on her face. She holds onto your shoulder before you even have the chance to say anything, knowing what your next words were going to be.

As soon as you winnow in, you understand why they called this place a dungeon. There really was no other way to describe the dark, stone covered space. The air was thick with humidity and blood, the kind you know has lingered for centuries and will never be completely washed out. You have to blink a few times to let your eyes adjust to the dim lighting, it was truly close to pitch black inside, the perfect environment to torment someone in, especially when you're the shadowsinger.

You never let your eyes meet Azriel's when you walk in, even as he turned to you, only allowing yourself to focus on your former handler, heavy chains on each of his wrists as he stood on his knees in the middle of a cell. He was already awake, it seems they did start without you. Rhysand speaks into your mind, sensing the incoming protest. He woke up sooner than we expected. He's been trained for this.

A sigh almost escapes you. Norris was trained for every possibility, this was going to be a gruesome session. As much as you were arguing with Azriel to stay, the truth is this is not something you ever enjoyed. So many in the guild did this sort of thing for pleasure but you only ever tortured anyone when it was strictly necessary and they had truly done something awful to warrant it. You can only hope it at least gives you the information you've been searching for and the freedom you never even dared to dream about.

“I almost thought you weren't going to show your face again.” It's infuriating how unaffected Norris sounds even though his blood already stains Azriel's favorite dagger.

“Wouldn't miss this show for the world,” you admit. He was one of the few individuals you believed deserved this and much worse, for all he has done to not only you but so many others. You're almost certain your conscience won't bother you for this.

Up until tonight your feelings for him were passive. You never particularly liked him, but you always felt obligated to show him respect as your superior, there were also less than ideal consequences if you let your true feelings show. Still, there had been some small, stupid hope that he didn't really do all those awful things to you. He trained you and taught you a lot, knowledge that you know has helped you in a lot of bad situations, that has kept you alive through them, and will continue to do so in the future.

A sickening smirk overtakes his face at your response. “I always liked you better when you acted like one of us.” Fury and shame travels across your body, but Azriel moves before you get the chance to, slashing his blade across Norris' chest, a sharp noise of pain escaping him. The gesture almost makes you smile, as twisted as that may sound.

“You'd do well to watch your mouth. My Spymaster doesn't take well to disrespect,” Rhysand's voice sounds different, arrogant but nothing short of furious.

“Still hung up on her? Since you stopped searching I thought you found yourself a new shiny toy.” Azriel's fist connects with Norris' jaw as he gets the last words out, a laugh escaping him despite the flow of blood rushing through his teeth for being able to rattle the shadowsinger.

You decide to step in, not wanting to let Azriel speak or act for you when you're more than capable of doing it yourself. And knowing how much he blames himself for your situation, for stopping his search when you were alive all this time. You'd be damned if you let Norris hurt him in any way. He's done more than enough.

“So you admit you were the one who found me.” You walk until you're standing over Norris' beaten body, right next to Azriel, close enough he has to adjust his wings not to touch you.

“Of course, you were one of my finest projects.” You let out an acknowledging hum, temperature dropping around you as your icy power rose to your fingertips. The pain would be a lot worse if you kept his body temperature down, you want his whole body to ache. This was going to be a long night, thankfully hurting Norris was nothing short of enjoyable.

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holllandtrash · 9 months

Text

long live | daniel ricciardo

pairing: daniel ricciardo x driver!reader (epilogue to fragile line)

long live the walls we crashed through i had the time of my life with you long, long live the walls we crashed through how the kingdom lights shined just for me and you

time passes and feelings may fade, but the memories never will word count: 7.7k (im so sorry) warnings/tags: time jumps like always, angst and heartbreak but it's not all sad this time, or is it?

four years later

“Daniel Ricciardo, 2025 Formula 1 World Champion, The Honey Badger,” James Hinchcliffe put his arm around the fellow commentator, “Tell us what you know.”

“What I know, Hinch,” Daniel repeated, taking a dramatic look up towards the clear sky. “What do I know?”

They didn’t need to act like they were friends for the camera, James and Daniel had grown close in a short time, ever since Daniel put down the helmet and picked up a microphone, Replacing the racing overalls with a suit and tie. He had the personality to be a motorsports commentator. No one was surprised when he was announced as Sky Sports newest reporter following his Formula 1 retirement.

And James, a fellow retired driver himself from the IndyCar side, a Canadian with the humour and the banter that could keep up with Daniel, they were truly one of the best duos when it came to motorsports broadcasting.

They weren't often together, though. Daniel stuck to Formula 1. James was a regular for IndyCar. There were only a handful of races where they came together and the Indianapolis 500 was one of them.

They were a comedic duo last year at the 2026 running, it only made sense to bring Daniel back again this year.

“Who’s your money on?” James asked. The question was innocent enough, proposed to most people who didn’t have an association with any team.

Daniel had his answer. Before the race weekend started he had an answer. Before the season started he had an answer.

But he hesitated.

Or, maybe froze was a better word. Daniel froze when he dropped his gaze from the sky and looked further down the pit lane. They didn’t plan on standing a few slots away from the number 6 car of Arrow McLaren, but that's where they found themselves.

Daniel froze when he spotted the familiar face sitting on the bench in the pit wall, looking at the data on the screens and nodding along with the engineer as he spoke. Daniel froze, because even though he knew exactly who was driving that car, he still wasn’t prepared for what he would do when he saw the driver.

When he saw you.

You guys had agreed, long ago, that there would be no more interactions. That your careers, your lives, would be better if the other stayed as far away as possible.

Daniel knew that even now, four years later, he had no right to talk to you, to talk about you. He knew that at this point, it was for the best that ties were still cut, that the conversations didn’t happen. It had been over a year since your last interaction, he was in no position to change that.

And he tried, desperately, over the years to follow the rules you agreed on. You as well kept your distance, you had to.

But you were only human. There had been a few slip ups over the years.

For the remainder of the season, after the Austin race, you both had stuck to your word. You stopped giving the world the moments they were waiting for. You refused to interact with each other, you forced yourself to stop caring.

It grew easier with time. The 2024 season was challenging in itself, but with Max and Daniel fighting amongst each other in a league of their own, you knew you couldn’t fight them in a McLaren. All you could do was make the most of what you had.

Lando and you had a strong opening those first few races. McLaren was third in the constructors for a short time until other teams started to catch up, filling in the holes of their designs.

You quite literally didn’t have time to care about Daniel when you were so focused on the rest of the grid, your actual competition. Ferrari, Mercedes, Aston Martin even. Your upgrades were no match with theirs and by the end of the season, it was disappointing to look back without a podium to reminisce on. Lando scored two, one in Spa, the other in Singapore. You did well, but not well enough to bring home a trophy.

2025 was…different.

In many ways. Firstly, the McLarens showed consistency as the season continued. You and Lando were always top contenders for points.

Secondly, Daniel was giving Max a run for his money. He had a bit the year prior, but this season was far more competitive. You, like everyone else, was dying to see who would pull through and score that first place trophy at the end of the day, but you had to hide your desires for it to be Daniel.

You still hadn’t spoken. You had successfully veered away from any accidental interactions. His name stayed out of your mouth and at this point, everyone on the grid knew there was a disconnect. You both had gone out of your way, this year and in 2024, to assure there would be no media appearances together, no driver conferences, nothing that the online world could twist.

But you couldn’t do anything about still being happy for him. That would never go away. You would always want Daniel to succeed. You just couldn’t be watching the screens when he podiumed. You couldn’t go out with him and the others to celebrate. You couldn’t wish him a congrats in passing like Lando could if you were walking down the paddock.

Daniel felt the same. While the love was gone, there was nothing he could do about those proud moments. He wanted you to make a name in this sport, to make history. He wanted you to be someone and even though he once wanted to be at your side while you planted your roots, he couldn’t.

Except that one time when he physically was at your side.

There was a mistake in the media pen scheduling on that Thursday in Miami. From what you knew, Daniel was supposed to be in the press conference and you’d be one of the ten unlucky few that had to stand under the Miami sun in the football field, talking about how you were looking forward to this race when in reality you personally thought this was the worst race on the calendar.

But it was too hot to complain about anything other than the heat and how you needed to change shirts as soon as the media pen segment was over because the breathable material of your papaya polo was anything but breathable.

You had barely stepped into the roped off circle to join the other drivers when you heard your name being called. Glancing over your shoulder, it took a second to realise that the call was coming from a young girl running in your direction. Her paddock lanyard flailing over her shoulder as she sprinted, one hand held onto her McLaren hat so it wouldn’t fall off.

“She can’t be here-”

“Piss off, she’s fine,” you weren’t even sure who you interrupted, but you didn’t give the risk of a reprending a second thought as you stepped forward to meet the young fan.

She was small, and you weren’t a professional when it came to guessing the ages of kids but you would put her somewhere in the range of six and eight. Maybe?

You knelt down to be more at eye level, “Hi darling, what’s your name?”

“Cara,” she answered, slightly out of breath. There was a gap in her teeth from where she must have just lost one, but it didn’t affect her grin at all.

“Hi Cara,” you smiled at her, only then noticing she wore a shirt with your last name on it. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw an older gentleman running towards her. “Is that your dad?”

Cara looked and then nodded, but she didn’t care that she had completely abandoned him and given him a heart attack. “I saw you last year here. You finished fifth, my dad took me to watch. He says you- he says that you’re the only girl driver.”

“I am the only girl driver,” you confirmed, pouting slightly. You brushed your hand over her shoulder to smooth out the material of the shirt, “That should change soon, don’t you think? All of these boys need to be put in their place and I can’t do it alone.”

“I can join,” Cara suggested. The carefree optimism was a rare sight at one of these race weekends, but you admired it in Cara. She was too young to know the difficulties of being a female in this field and hopefully by the time she grew up, there were less walls for her to climb over, just doors to open.

“You can join,” you nodded at the idea, laughing slightly, mostly because her dad had caught up to her and he was more out of breath than she saw. You smiled at him but looked back at Cara, “Do you race?”

“Yes!”

“No,” her dad answered, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Not yet, at least. We’ve signed her up for karting this summer, we’ll see how it goes.”

“I can already tell you’ll be a natural,” you told Cara. Watching her face light up was probably the most rewarding feeling you’d get all weekend.

“I want to be like you. I want to win races, I want to win a championship!”

“You know what Cara, I can’t break every record, being the first girl driver. So I’ll save the championship one for you, how about that? I want to see you become the first girl to win the championship.” You gave her arm a squeeze and then stood up, turning your focus to her dad.

He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring and although you couldn’t make assumptions that he was single, the greying hair at a fairly young age and the bags under his eyes told you that he was mostly likely the main caretaker for Cara.

“She’s got dreams,” you said.

He nodded, but smiled proudly, “That she does.”

You didn’t want to speak negatively about this industry in front of Cara, you didn’t want to crush her dreams, but you also didn't want her to grow up and be hopelessly disappointed either.

“It’s not easy for girls in this sport,” you told him. “But if she’s serious, if both of you are, look into working with Mary from Victory Speedway, located out in Tampa. She’s got contacts with F1 Academy as well. They’re goal is to make it easier.”

“Thank you,” he nodded, holding out his hand to shake. “And thank you for talking with Cara. Both of us are big fans, you truly are inspiring.”

You chatted for a bit longer, ignoring Oliver who was at your side reminding you that you had media duties. They could wait. A photo with the girl that seemed to be your biggest fan and maybe one day your predecessor, couldn’t wait.

No one really heard what you spoke about, the other drivers had their own obligations in the media pen.

Daniel, though, he listened.

He was standing right near the entrance when Cara had run up. He had watched you bend down to chat with her, making her a priority opposed to the reporters. He was less than two feet away as he overheard your conversation and when you turned around, ready to get the media day over with, you met his eyes.

For the first time in a long time, you didn’t look away.

Daniel wanted to tell you he admired that conversation, the hope you installed in the young fan. He wanted to tell you that you made a great role model, for not just girls but all aspiring drivers. He wanted to say a lot of things to you.

He settled on a question, “You’re not trying to win the championship?”

This was the first time you had spoken in months and it wasn’t even in private. It was quite literally in front of cameras, reporters, people with audio recording devices and microphones. You opened your mouth slightly only to lock up, giving him an apologetic look because you both knew better than to be having any sort of interaction.

You turned to face the first reporter, ignoring Daniel’s question completely. He just nodded to himself and walked to his own spot, keeping you in the corner of his eye.

This young reporter, though, was also curious, having overheard what Daniel asked.

“You’re not vying for a championship? Does Zak Brown know this?” He asked with a soft chuckle.

You shrugged and gave him a smile, “I mean, every driver's dream is the championship, but it’s not my goal currently. Your goals can, and should, be different than your dreams. And yes, Zak knows this, don’t you worry.”

“Your goal then, what is it?”

You inhaled, thinking to yourself for a second, “I’ve got a few and I have a good team supporting me while I work towards them. First would be to make as much history as I can, set as many records while I have a spot in Formula 1 and then I want to help other female drivers break them.”

“You want your records to be broken?”

“If it means getting more females into Formula 1, then yes.”

Daniel, who was in the middle of trying to listen to the reporter in front of him, smiled as he heard that. It was a very you response. He leaned forward, gripping the railing a bit because he completely misheard his own question and needed him to repeat it.

“And your other goal?” The young reporter asked you.

Your lips curved into more of a devious smile, deciding to keep that one close to your chest. “Do you have any questions about the race this weekend? Or are you trying to write a biography on my life?”

Daniel was dying to know what it was too. He spent the rest of that media session racking through the memories of you, there were a lot, trying to think if you ever had that conversation. You must have, right? So why couldn’t he remember?

When all of you made your way out and back to the paddock, Daniel ignored the voice in his head telling him to just let it go. He completely drowned it out as he jogged up to your side, refraining from reaching out and brushing his hand over your elbow to grab your attention. Instead he just said,

“Hey.”

You glanced up, instinctively stepping to the side as you walked to put more space between your bodies.

“Hi,” you breathed out, pulling your eyes off of him and on the Red Bull motorhome that was coming up. This conversation would be short, he’d have to go back inside. You’d be fine for ten seconds, right?

“So what-” he cleared his throat. This shouldn’t have been awkward but it was. After so long of not even glancing at each other, there were new lines painted between you. Daniel didn’t know how to navigate them, and honestly, neither did you.

“Triple Crown, Dan,” you answered, knowing that's where he was going when he opened his mouth.

The Triple Crown. Monaco. Indy 500. 24 Hours of Le Mans.

He took a second to process that goal, not having expected it in the slightest. When he nodded, you could see the hurt in his eyes, only there was less pain and more distance. He didn’t know you like he thought he did.

“I never knew you were aiming for the Triple Crown.”

“You never asked.”

He had trained you, helped you become the best athlete you could be. He had introduced you to the right people. He acted as a mentor, but the conversations you had about racing were limited. There was a lack of communication in that sense because why bring work home with you?

But that was the wedge driven between you. Had you talked about racing, contracts, your futures, you would have never found yourself in that McLaren contract scandal that ultimately broke you two up.

He nodded, because what else could he say to that? You gave him a soft smile and told yourself to keep walking, to move to the other side of the paddock as Daniel headed into the Red Bull motorhome.

You don’t interact again until Monaco. Daniel now knew winning this race meant more to you than others. Winning this would be one third of the Triple Crown checked off and as much as he was gunning for the podium, thankful for his P2 starting position, he saw that you were starting fourth and took a breath of relief. You had a shot.

Daniel wasn’t sure what came over him when he saw you in the paddock after qualifying. Maybe it was because you not completely shutting him down in Miami gave him a strange surge of confidence to approach you again, or maybe it was because he was ignoring all the voices in his head to just keep walking. Whatever it was, Daniel saw you chatting with a member of Sky Sports and as he walked passed, patted your shoulder in a congratulatory manner.

You paused whatever it was you were saying and turned in his direction, just in time to see him give you a smile and a thumbs up as he continued on his way. You returned it, but that small interaction had you stumbling over your words for the next two hours.

Not because you were smitten, you were past that. You didn’t look at Daniel anymore and lose your train of thought, you didn’t get lost in a daze and allow everything else to fade around you.

But he didn’t seem to let go of you completely yet, and you could work with that. You could be civil. You could be neutral during race weekends, as long as it didn’t go further than the friendly smiles and minimal chats.

It shouldn’t have been hard to keep the conversations short, you hadn’t actually had anything meaningful to say to each other in over a year. When you ran into him after the race on Sunday, after he claimed the title of Monaco Grand Prix race winner for a second time, you should have just said congratulations and kept walking.

But Daniel saw you as he was propped up against the side of the Red Bull motorhome and then he stood up straighter, almost inviting you to walk up to him. There were no cameras around anymore, the majority of the paddock had gone home so you felt safer, sort of. If the world hadn’t lost their minds at the clip of him patting your back yesterday, you could talk to him now.

The Red Bull engineer he was with said his goodbyes and smiled politely at you as you approached, stopping at a safe distance.

“Another Monaco win under your belt.”

“So it seems,” Daniel tried his best to not look too proud of himself. You could see his dimples poking through. You wanted him to not be holding back, you missed his grin but gone were the days when he didn’t have to refrain with you.

“You deserve it,” you nodded, glancing over your shoulder out of habit. You were scared of any stragglers with iPhones, but no one around seemed to care that you and Daniel were talking. You were drivers, it shouldn’t have been a strange sight.

“You deserve it,” Daniel playfully shot back. “I mean, I couldn’t just hand it over this year though, despite your Triple Crown goal.”

“Oh but next year? You’ll let me have it then?” You asked, eyebrows raised. It was a joke, a small tease, but Daniel’s smile slipped and you caught it. You caught it and you stepped forward, hand flinching because it would be moments like this where you’d want to reach for him but you couldn’t do that anymore, could you?

Daniel tensed. Now it was his turn to look anxiously around, “I might not-” a sharp inhale passed through his lips, “Yeah I might not be here next year.”

You scoffed because that idea was preposterous, “Oh shut up.”

“No it’s true,” Daniel said, but his smile told you that he wasn’t sad about it. “You know how your goal is the Triple Crown?”

“Yes.”

“Mine’s the championship, sweets.”

You weren’t given an opportunity to react to the nickname because he continued on explaining without missing a beat. Either he didn’t see the way saying sweets affected you or he didn’t even notice he said it because even after all this time, it still came naturally to him.

“There’s a clause in my contract,” he said. “If I win the championship this year, we can renegotiate. I can leave, I can- I can retire. The way I want to.”

You didn’t know how to process this.

Daniel belonged in Formula 1. He fought so hard for his seat, he was a mess when he was left without one and now there was a chance he’d be gone?

And even though you were only eight races in, already he was leading the driver standings over Max, not by much, but he was. There was a strong possibility Daniel could take the championship home at the end of the season.

You couldn’t say what was on your mind. You couldn’t say, selfishly, I hope you lose the championship. You couldn’t say that it was impossible to imagine the paddock without him because even those few months when he wasn’t racing, he was still there.

“We’ve still got a few months to go,” Daniel’s voice broke you from your thoughts, trying to move to a brighter note because that’s just who he was. “But this could be good for you. You’ll have a real shot at winning Monaco next year. But I mean- you technically already won Monaco.”

“That was F2.”

“I think it still counts.”

“I think I’ll win it again, just to be safe.”

Daniel liked that response, he liked how confident you were that the win was coming. He nodded and he really would have liked to talk to you more about this, about his potential leave, about your success, but when he was called from across the paddock you didn’t hesitate before saying goodbye. The conversation was long enough.

Things seemed lighter between you after that.

You didn’t stop yourself from being visibly happy when he was doing well. You laughed if you overheard the stupid shit he said in the paddock. You didn’t make a big deal about it when you two were signed up for the same press conference session. Granted, you still sat on complete opposite ends of the couch, but you sat there with a smile because you liked hearing Daniel talk about the lead he still carried in the standings.

Spa was the turning point for you two.

While you hadn’t taken any more steps beyond paddock conversations and friendly interactions, what was Daniel supposed to do when you both ended up on the podium together? Him on top, claiming first, you right next to him on the second step?

You both held back when you climbed out of the cars. He opted for a friendly pat on the back even though he wanted nothing more than to bring you in for an embrace. You had podiumed once already this season, but not with Daniel. You stood between the two Mercedes drivers back in Austria but now you were there, with Daniel at your side, both of you beaming.

You were proud of yourselves. You were proud of each other.

Both of you had dreamt of this moment, standing next to each other on the podium. You still remembered that conversation years ago, trying to imagine what it would be like to hear the cheers for both of you.

‘You’ll have to do a shoey.’

‘Only if you win. I’m not doing one if I win.’

You had shared this dream when you were in love and even though that wasn’t the case anymore, the dream was still very much alive. Because of that, it almost didn’t feel right.

It felt sort of unfulfilling, despite you being handed a heavy trophy.

But this was a moment that you would remember for the rest of your life. All of your accomplishments were held very close to your heart but this one meant more than you could put into words.

Hands shaking, crowd going wild, you were on top of the world and you were standing next to the man you used to be in love with. You glanced to the side to watch him, not able to stop yourself from smiling wide and then wider still as he held his head high like a hero.

Daniel was larger than life.

He always would be.

You tried not to let yourself think that this might be the only chance you’d get to stand here with him. This win only pushed him further ahead in the championship and you were, seemingly, the only one who knew this year would be his last if he ended up winning.

You had to hold onto this moment. It wouldn’t come again.

To everyone watching at home, this was the start of a new age with you and Daniel. Fans could see the way you two interacted, the sheer joy you had for each other, something they hadn’t seen since you still raced in F2.

To you, this was the beginning of the end.

Finally, you and Daniel were getting to a place where things could be good and in a few short months, he’d be gone.

You couldn’t think about it more, not when you felt champagne being sprayed in your direction. You were late to the game and popped yours after Daniel and Max had, but you still joined in with the celebration.

You laughed when Daniel took his shoe off and poured some of the bubbly liquid into the sole. He laughed when you refused to drink it, both of you ignoring the fact that if you were still in love, if you were still together, you would have done the shoey with him.

Daniel was content with the nod. He knew you were happy for him, the same way he was happy for you. But neither of you could show it the way you wanted to.

The championship win was decided at the second last race of the season, Qatar.

You didn’t have a good weekend, and you knew this. You took responsibility for the poor qualifying, the bad performance, for all of it. But you were distracted, unable to keep yourself from thinking about Daniel because if he won this race, he won it all.

And then he’d walk away.

You were conflicted. You wanted to see Daniel take home the win but selfishly, you wanted him in Formula 1. You always wanted him in Formula 1.

So when he crossed that line, ahead of Max, ahead of the rest of the grid, when he did celebratory donuts and stood on the podium with his chin held high, you stood on the sidelines and ignored how you used to wish for a day like this, wished for a day where he would be crowned the Championship Winner.

Daniel Ricciardo. 2025 Formula 1 World Champion.

It had a nice ring to it.

That’s what you told him that night when you were out at dinner and saw him sitting with a few members from his team just a few feet away. You weren’t surprised to see him at the establishment, it was exclusive, it was way overpriced and it was where many drivers went prior to going out and partying.

You avoided his eyes that evening, scared that if you’d meet them you’d be forced to accept the reality that he really was leaving. At least, you know, if you didn’t look at him, you could live in your own little world where he wasn’t gone just yet.

You were genuinely annoyed when you bumped into him after leaving the toilets. The hall was dim, narrow and there was quite literally nowhere for you to go when he turned the corner and stopped walking when he saw you.

“Hi,” you swallowed, anxiously smoothing out the skirt you wore, even more anxiously trying to avoid his eyes.

“Hi,” Daniel slid his hands into his pockets. His Enchante shirt clung to his skin due to the heat, but you told yourself you weren’t allowed to look at the way his little curls stuck to his forehead.

“You, um-” you held your hand out. “Congratulations, really. Daniel Ricciardo. 2025 Formula 1 World Champion. It’s got a nice ring to it.”

He laughed and nodded along, “Yeah, yeah, thank you.”

When he leaned against the wall, you realised you were stuck. There was no getting out of this conversation. No escaping this reality.

It didn’t help that the rest of the dining room faded behind him. The people, the sounds, the light, it was just Daniel.

Just Daniel and just you.

How it always should have been.

How it would never be again.

You opened your mouth, intent on saying something else about his win but all that came out was a shaky breath and a choked back sob that triggered the tears you didn’t even know were building. It was quiet, but it was desperate and it was painful and Daniel didn’t hesitate before stepping forward and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. Your cries were muffled against his shirt and Daniel stroked your back and then your hair, holding you tight against him.

You were happy for him, really. If anyone deserved this win, it was him but god you were devastated because up until now, you didn’t realise you still held this much love for him. Up until now, you didn’t realise that even after everything, you still needed him.

You needed him.

“What am I going to do without you on the grid?” You asked, your voice was already quiet but it was even more so muffled as you spoke directly into his body.

Daniel chuckled, it vibrated through his chest. “What you’ve been doing this whole time, sweets. You’ll make history. You’ll put the rest of the guys in their places. You’ll be the driver I know you to be.”

It took a few seconds, maybe a few minutes actually, of just standing there and crying into his chest until you snapped out of it. You weren’t dating anymore, your conversations now didn’t last longer than five minutes, it was embarrassing to be losing it in front of him, because of him.

You stepped back and wiped your eyes, “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t- I just-”

“I’ll miss you too, Y/N,” he breathed out.

You nodded, because if you tried to say anything else you would be crying again. Daniel held his finger up and walked into the toilets to grab some tissue for you. It took another minute for you to be able to trust your voice again.

“I can’t believe you’re really leaving,” you dabbed at your cheeks, knowing you’d have to go back to the hotel to fix your make up before going out again.

“I’ve got things lined up,” Daniel shrugged.

“Care to share?”

He tried to hide his smile and failed miserably, “Just don’t be surprised if I show up at the track next year with a microphone instead of a helmet.”

That was about as much he would say as his deal with Sky Sports wasn’t yet official.

But now you felt more like an idiot for crying about him leaving if he wasn’t even actually leaving. You’d still see him. He’d still be around. You could work with that.

Daniel could still be proud of your accomplishments, even if he was on the sidelines.

He was, however, a little conflicted when you won the last race of the 2025 season.

You made history in Abu Dhabi. The first female driver to win a race. This was a wall you had spent years trying to crash through and now there you were. On top of the podium, on top of the world as confetti fell to the ground around you, champagne sprayed in all directions.

This was your moment.

Your win, your first win and all you wanted was Daniel up on that podium with you. As happy as you were to celebrate with Max and George, you couldn’t deny something was missing.

Because you really could never cut yourself off from Daniel completely, could you? You could try, you could attempt to distance yourself, you could stop the interactions and you could tell yourself you didn’t care but you were right that day you told Lando that Daniel was your missing piece.

So it made sense that you were at a bit of a loss for words when he showed up at your hotel room that next morning.

You invited him in, despite being slightly hungover. He didn’t care that your clothes were spread all throughout the room, but he did smile at the sight of your trophy on proud display on the table before you had to give it to your engineer for safe travels.

“So this is it,” you sighed, sitting down on the far side of the couch. Daniel sat down as well, the opposite side, arm stretched along the back of it.

“This is it,” he agreed.

“When does the news drop?”

He clicked his tongue, “Tomorrow.”

“Who’s replacing you?”

“Not sure,” he scratched the stubble along his jaw. “My guess is Lawson or possibly Palou.”

You sat in silence for a while, thankful that it wasn’t uncomfortable because it easily could have been.

But you both grew this season.

You could both admit now, being in love and being drivers was an unattainable dream.

But you could be drivers and you could still have love for each other.

You reached across the couch, a gentle smirk playing on your lips as you nudged his arm, “So what are you going to say about me?”

Daniel dipped his head back and laughed, “What do you mean?”

“You know,” you shrugged. “Like when you talk about us drivers on Sky Sports. What are you going to say about me?”

“I’m going to say that not only did you steal my seat, but you stole the glory of my last race by winning.”

You rolled your eyes, recognizing the sarcasm but you were thankful his words weren’t malicious anymore, “I thought we were past this. I didn’t steal your seat, Dan.”

“No, but I don’t think I can joke about it on air so this is my last chance.”

You reached behind you and grabbed one of the throw pillows, smacking it against his chest. You chose to look at this playfully, instead of it as the inevitable end.

And Daniel needed a second to think about your question anyway, so the joke was just a way to stall. Honestly, he was a little surprised that he hadn’t already thought about it considering you were on his mind more than you should have been.

He cleared his throat and adjusted himself on the couch cushion. You could see that he was struggling to come up with a good response and you didn’t mean for this. You didn’t want him to think he had to choose his words carefully.

“Hey,” you whispered, shifting closer to him, “Promise me something.”

You met his eyes, his dark brown eyes that once had such a strong hold over you. You looked at him and remembered why you fell in love with him in the first place. In this moment, it was hard to remember why you ever wanted to stop loving him.

Had you stopped loving him? Did that day really come?

You could have love for someone and not be in love with him anymore, but you didn’t think you’d find yourself in a position where you had to differentiate between the two. You thought, you knew, you would always be in love with Daniel that to sit here and think that maybe, possibly, you didn’t anymore, felt like a betrayal.

He was supposed to be the one that stood by you through it all. The good, the bad, the wins, the losses. It wasn’t supposed to end with you two sitting on the couch and admitting that this truly was over.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this, but you always knew it would.

Fate stepped in and whether you liked it or not, it was forcing you into a goodbye, into an acceptance that your lives would no longer be intertwined, that you couldn’t go back to the way things were.

“Anything,” Daniel spoke softly. Maybe one day he would have said, I’d promise you the world, if you asked, but that seemed a little too forward for the moment.

“Be honest, Dan,” you told him, your hand finding his over the edge of the couch. Your thumb brushed against his fingers and both of you fought the urge to just connect them further. “Tell them my name, but tell them how I got to Formula 1. Tell them it was you, that you helped me pave the way, that you helped me make a name in this sport. Don’t just point to the pictures of me, point to the ones of us. Now that you’re done with racing, I don’t care about the assumptions, the rumours, any of it. Tell people how it really was you and I, how we were the team that should have been, that never was, please, because even though I know-”

You paused, taking a second to swallow the lump at the back of your throat. You glanced at your hand and maybe it was you or maybe it was him, but your fingers started to interlock. Your eyes stayed glued to the touch as your last admittance filled the air between you.

“I know I could have made it to Formula 1 without you, but I can’t put into words how thankful I am that I didn’t have to.”

Daniel nodded, because he agreed with you. He knew you could have gotten here without him but he too was grateful he was by your side for the start of it. He agreed that you two really were the team that never was but should have been. He nodded and agreed that he would say all of those things.

But you knew that he wouldn’t.

Those words were for him, not the rest of the world.

He would tell people that you shined on top of the podium. He would say that the crowds went wild, louder for you than any other driver.

And he would never say that he had any part of shaping your career. Despite you knowing he did, despite the whole world knowing he played a detrimental part, Daniel didn’t hold onto those connections when you went on to race in 2026 and he stood in the commentators box.

He stayed neutral, surprisingly.

It helped that he didn’t interact with many drivers or if he did, it was never you. He did talk about you, but only about your performance on the track. His colleagues knew not to bring up your past, not when the only thing that mattered was how well you were doing in the present.

He had some thoughts when you announced you were making the switch to IndyCar at the end of this season, but mostly because you made that announcement before the Monaco Grand Prix, before you claimed the win you were chasing, before you could check off one third of the Triple Crown.

He wanted to pull you aside and question why you were making this choice but he couldn’t. He also couldn’t call you out publicly on air like other reporters had.

All he could do was hold his breath after you qualified P2 in Monaco. He sat on the edge of his seat, struggling to do his job, struggling to commentate on the race because the second you made the move to overtake Max and it worked, Daniel had to leave the room.

He had to leave because he knew that if you kept the lead, if you won, he couldn’t celebrate the way he wanted to with cameras on him. Instead, he watched from the privacy of a separate media suite. The broadcast was a few seconds delayed but at least he was able to cheer and be visibly proud of you and not have to hold back when you crossed the line ahead of Max.

You won the Monaco Grand Prix, in a McLaren of all cars, and now he knew what you were gunning for next.

The Indy 500.

Signing that Arrow McLaren deal ended up being the right move after all.

“Who’s your money on?” James Hinchcliffe asked him as they stood on the pit lane where the teams were preparing for the greatest spectacle in racing. The question was innocent enough, proposed to most people who didn’t have an association with any team.

Daniel had his answer. Before the race weekend started he had an answer. Before the season started, he had an answer. Despite knowing you were still far from winning the Indy 500, his money would always be on you.

You looked up from where you sat on the Arrow McLaren bench and you smiled at him.

You were having a pretty good season, for a rookie. With O’Ward and Rossi as your teammates, you knew you couldn’t compare, but they were good people to have on your team, in your corner. They helped you, guided you through the shift from Formula 1 to Indy and you could be proud that in a grid of 26 drivers, you were 11th in the standings.

“Not betting on anyone, James,” Daniel answered, but his eyes were still locked on you and his smirk said otherwise. “It’ll be a good race.”

He could say your name, he wanted to. But Daniel stayed as far away from your life as he could because you decided on it a long time ago and nothing that happened since told him that you’d be going back on that decision, that you wanted him back in your life.

He might not have been a driver anymore, but you still were. So he was content with being civil, neutral. He was fine with the friendly smiles and if an old photo of the two of you circulated every now and again, well, he didn’t hate it.

He sat with the rest of the Indy commentators during the race. He shared his honest opinions throughout and he, along with the other reporters, praised Alexander Rossi for taking home his second Indy 500 victory, eleven years after his first.

But that was not the Arrow McLaren driver he wished was celebrating in Victory Lane.

Daniel waited until his job was done, but he knew he had to find you before the day ended. He wanted to congratulate you on finishing twelfth. That was something he was proud of and he hoped you were as well.

It would only go up from there. The Indy 500 was still an achievable goal.

He found you in the paddock. It wasn’t hard. You stood out, even in the crowd of people. He waited off to the side and watched you take photos with young girls, young fans that resembled that one girl in Miami, all of them looking up to you and thanking you for paving the way for them, for other females in motorsport.

It was by chance that you looked over your shoulder and saw Daniel standing there. He nodded, wordlessly assuring you that he could wait, to take your time with the fans.

He ended up waiting almost fifteen minutes.

Eventually, you started to approach him. Daniel stood up straighter, having been leaning against the Penske trailers until you were done. You still had your racing overalls on, but unzipped and hanging loosely on your hips. The black fireproofs under the papaya looked good on you, but Daniel hadn’t let himself appreciate your appearance for years, he couldn’t start now, even if he really wanted to.

“Hey,” you called out when you were only a few steps away.

“Hey yourself,” Daniel chuckled. When you finally stood in front of him, he was sort of expecting to see a sliver of defeat, but you were happy. You may not have won the 500, but you had a good run and there was always next year. Plus, you still had the rest of the season to finish. The season wasn’t over, you could still make history in this sport.

You crossed your arms over your chest and glanced around, jaw clenched until you finally worked up the courage to meet his eyes.

“So,” you inhaled a breath. “You’ve got some time on your hands now that you’re retired, right?”

Daniel wasn’t sure where this was going but he laughed and nodded, “Somewhat, yes, but I do still work race weekends.”

“But Monday through Wednesday?”

He pondered it for a second, just for dramatic effect. “I’m fairly open.”

You nodded, hoping for that answer.

If you were being honest with yourself, this was a conversation you wanted to have with Daniel since he announced his retirement almost two years ago, you just never knew what the outcome would be.

You felt a bit safer now, knowing that he was based out of the UK and your races were only North American. If he hated where you were going with this, well, it was rare you’d be crossing paths so soon afterwards.

You just had to blurt it out.

“Ever thought about being a trainer?” You asked. “Or a manager? Mentor even? You know- my last mentor walked out on me-”

Daniel cut you off with a booming laugh, “Walked out? Really? Is that what you tell people?”

Him playing along with your humour felt like a weight off your shoulders, “Only if they ask.”

Daniel, finally, didn’t have to refrain himself anymore. He felt confident enough to drape his arm over your shoulders and walk with you down the paddock. For once, he didn’t care if people looked or recorded and secretly, he hoped they did.

All he wanted was to be at your side. All he wanted was for the world to know he was proud of you, that, if you asked, he’d be back in your corner.

And you were asking.

“So you need a mentor?” He repeated. “A trainer?”

Your hand slipped around his waist. It was natural, comforting, right.

“Well, I need to win the 500 eventually and then I need to get into Le Mans. I can’t do it alone.”

Daniel looked at you, wearing that stupid grin you missed so much even if you had memorised it the first day you met. You missed him, despite hearing his voice on the broadcasts and seeing him in the paddock. You missed him, he was your missing piece after all.

Daniel looked at you, and you knew, you weren’t alone.

__________________

the end ♡

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esotericpluto · 8 months

Text

the ideal career for you

from left to right; intuitively choose the pile you feel more connected to. To make it easier, you can take a deep breathe, close your eyes and ask for guidance to your deities or guides. These are all general messages, so just take what resonates and leave what doesn't. This reading is timeless. If it resonates, feedback is always appreciated and motivates to keep doing pick a card readings. You can donate here.

divider: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

pile 1

the moon, 7 of wands, ten of cups

this pile includes 18+ themes, so please skip over it if you are under 18. You can pick other pile.

with this pile, I'm getting a lot of possible careers coming through. I feel like many of you might end up working in careers that require you to work at night or until night. However, I do also see that some type of fame and recognition is very possible here and that you will keep this air of mystery, regardless of how famous and known you are. Some people reading this pile might even have more than one career from these options throughout their lives or even change it up a bit later on in life when you are more stable, looking forward to the field that truly makes you happy and fulfilled.

Now, some of you this indicates jobs in public eye. Some of you will be entertainers and bring joy to others. This can mean being an actor, singer, artist, musician, a comedian, a dancer or even could mean being an illusionist, working at the circus or at the entertainment part of hotels and touristic areas.

This might be especially true if you have leo and 9th house placements, if you love to sing, if you like to dye your hair or paint your nails. It might also resonate if your initials are C, K or M. Some of you who like to wear bold eyeliners can also resonate with this.

For some of you, I feel like you might end up becoming strippers (and yes this includes some men reading this) and get even some popularity from this. While this is sex work, keep in mind it still is counted as entertainment by many. Alternatively, you could go into burlesque/cabaret or similar things. Later on, for some of you, I do see a career change into something new you'll fall in love with but this will keep you afloat for a long time and many of you will enjoy it, especially due to the money. Others will make enough money to retire early or even leave early and just invest and live life. Now please, keep in mind that for those of you in this field, it is important for you to keep yourself safe and work in regulated spaces.

This could especially resonate for you if you have a couple tattoos, that know how to belly dance, that like smoothies, that have curly hair, that wear glasses/contacts, that love working out or go on shopping sprees. If you have a tongue piercing, it could also be a sign it resonates. Extra confirmation of any of you are aquarius, leo or virgo, especially with moon in scorpio or moon in capricorn.

Alternatively, some of you could end up working as dj's at clubs, bartenders or even bodyguards. This seems like it will actually help you meet a lot of people, make connections and network. I see some people even managing or owning nightclubs/bars later in life. The same could go for motels/hotels, although the sexual theme is being compelled here, so I think a motel seems somewhat likely for those of you this resonates with.

I feel like for some of you, you might become teachers/professors who give night lectures at universities or even to bigger audiences in important conferences. I feel like your input in your field will be extremely important. For those who will follow this teaching path, I feel like you will either be a political science, sociology, sexology or arts/entertainment teacher. And some of you could even end up having some minor career in politicians (like being a deputy/congress person in a parliament).

I feel like this one can apply for everyone in this group, so there is a chance any of you do end up doing this later in life out of passion.

For those of you thinking of going into investing into property or in general, I feel like this will go extremely well for you. Again you might invest in nightclubs/motels like i mentioned or even in rehabilitating older houses in usually less appealing neighborhoods, giving it a new life and appreciation and increasing thr value and safety of the area. If you want to invest in stocks instead, definitely invest in things related to the topics above. For some of you, I heard "invest in HIV research" so pick medicine companies that are working on researching it and creating cures/treatments. I'm also getting a special warning to not invest into crypto/nfts if you pick this pile.

pile 2

7 of pentacles; Tower; 3 of wands; Queen of Cups

I'm getting that some of you might get a career that has a long path to go through and that might include having a lot of patience. I feel like this could indicate some of you will have to study a lot and spend years and thousands on education to get this career, which leads me to think some of you are becoming doctors or medical practitioners. Alternatively, you could be in a career that will require you to start with low paying entry level jobs, but that will take you to the top positions that will be extremely well paid. I see that for some, this could also indicate having to go through an unpaid or lowly paid internship in order to make your way into the field or being in a job that doesn't pay you well and overworks you before switching to a better one.

For some of you, this wait in order to collect the seeds of your labour can be literal as in becoming a gardener, a farmer or even similar jobs in agricultural management or even owning a flower shop. This could, in a few cases, also involve baking and cooking and all the time that can go into it.

There are a group of you that this wait refers to working on your psychic and intuitive abilities as well as on your spiritual knowledge to the point of mastery and make a career out of it.

Like I mentioned before, I do see many healers, doctors and medics coming out of this pile, psychologists, psychiatrists and therapists are also coming in strong. Some might also go into traditional medicine and hollistic practices, maybe even reiki, energy work or medical astrology. I see that checking your 12th house or pisces placements either on your solar chart or on your midheaven persona chart can help you confirm this information.

Those of you that are thinking about going into therapy and psychology are being recommended to look into specializing in anger management and conflict resolution, so possibly something like family and couple therapy.

There could also be some of you that create youtube channels/instagram pages to help others with your knowledge and tips.

A small percentage of you might end up becoming a military medic/doctor/nurse as well, specializing in helping wounded soldiers. On the same note, a military cook is also possible.

It is also very important to note for everyone who picked this pile that your career might cause you emotional overwhelm or pressure, so always be sure to protect your energy and not allow yourself to be too drained.

This strong energy also takes me to believe some of you will be writers or artists, which also makes sense for the time aspect of this reading, as making art or writing can be time consuming. Some of you could even become freelancers or start creative industry enterprises/businesses.

These are just extra confirmations, so if nothing of these signs match you, it doesn't mean the pile is wrong for you.

This could resonate especially if you've recently watched a documentary or movie touching on the subjects of oppression, if you're in university or if you have been to university and if you have ever worked a waiter/public service job. If you enjoy stuff like Silent Hill and Red Dead Redemption, this could also resonate with you. Same if you like purple and blue or are wearing either. Extra confirmation if you're a taurus, gemini, aries or capricorn. Also if you specifically have a libra venus in either tropical or vedic.

pile 3

Lovers, Death, Star, Tower, Four of Pentacles

This pile has a brief mention of de*th and s**cide, so if you're very sensitive to those topics, please avoid this pile.

With the number of major arcanas here, I feel like whatever career you end up picking, you will have an important role in the area and maybe do something very groundbreaking in it. You'll be essential in your job/career and could even change the world in a way with it. No matter how small of a change it is, it will still be impactful.

The career will involve other people or at least one more person to some degree, this could be either a business/work partner or work involving clients or the public.

I'm getting two main groups here. One group will be focusing on healing and some type of therapy, especifically involving death. So this could be councilling focused on helping disaster survivors or grief therapy to help people who lost their loved ones or witnessed traumatic deaths. You will essentially be very important to help them move on and find themselves again. Because the Star can be related to peace, being true to one self and healing, you will definitely help people heal and find their peace and meaning in life again. For some of you, you could also help people who attempted suicide or have suicidal tendencies, helping them to work through this. You will help people who have lost everything and you'll help them rebuild their lives back up with healthier and better foundations, allowing them to feel more secure and in control of themselves and their lives.

For the other group, I feel like your work will be focusing more on creative industries. This could be publishing and marketing for some, however I feel like many of you will embark on music and acting careers, which will help many people also heal and have healthy coping mechanisms.

I feel like your music or your acting (mainly acting) will allow you to become separate from yourself for a moment by wearing another persona and putting yourself in someone else's shoes, but also will allow you to explore different aspects of yourself, giving you a deeper understanding of yourself and others. For some, this could be a musical theatre career. If not, you could become a music composer for movies and shows or even a music producer.

I'm also seeing some of you will be a play writer or a movie writer/director. I feel like there might be moments of your career you won't feel as valued, but rest assured there will be millions loving your work. You might also have extremely innovative ideas for the field and do things, create storylines no one has ever really seen before. You could even create a new genre of cinema or a new wave/style of film.

For a smaller percentage of you, I'm also seeing that you might be doing something money/management related, so an investor or establishing a new business/company that might help people around the world.

Extra confirmation if you like rock n' roll or watched an Elvis Presley movie/documentary or read a tweet about him recently. If you consume true crime, especially from the 80's, if you enjoy the aesthetic of the circus. It might also resonate if you listen to Britney and/or Mariah or if your favorite color is red. If you like high heels, especially louboutins, or enjoy using red/dark lipsticks, or shaved your legs in the previous 3 days, this is also extra confirmation for you. Could also apply if you're a scorpio, sagittarius or pisces.

#pac #pick a card #pick a pile #free readings #free tarot readings #tarot readings #tarot reading #free tarot reading #intuitive reading #intuitive readings #free intuitive reading #free intuitive readings #free psychic readings #psychic readings #psychic reading #free psychic reading #career tarot readings #career readings #career reading

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inlovewithgreta · 7 months

Text

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ Kinktober 2023 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Week Two: body worship/massage

Oiled Up - Alcina Dimitrescu x Fem!Reader

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Summary: Alcina started feeling needy during her weekly massage session with you.

Other Warnings: praise, eating out, etc…

Word Count: 2k

Taglist: @enchantressb @shslbunnylover @aemilia @bellatrixsbrat @finnja555

Translations:

*draga mea: my darling

*îngeraș: angel

*zeița mea: my goddess

*eşti frumoasă: you are beautiful

*dragoste: love

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

"Mmm, I love how good you are with your hands, draga mea," Alcina admitted as you kneaded at her meaty thigh.

'My darling’, you couldn't help the deep shade of blush that snuck onto your cheeks at her words. She knew exactly how to get you flustered. You had been her personal maid for weeks now, and she could read you like the back of her hand. It was just too easy. You were the only maid whose eyes not once glanced in her direction as she changed at her vanity, blushed each and every time she called you a term of endearment, and treated her body like she was a national treasure each time you gave the woman her weekly massages.

And to you she was exactly that. A treasure. The kind of treasure that deserved to be treated with the best care possible.

"Only the best for you, my lady," you gave the woman a small smile.

"Alcina," she corrected you. "You're the only one who's seen me naked, the least you could do is call me by my first name." She smirked to herself when noticed your blush grow deeper.

"I–" Words were unable to form as your focus from your task wavered. Had you truly been the only one to see her bare form? With the way she was so carefree about undressing in front of you, there was no possible way you could be the only one. But the truth is, you were.

She trusted you. Trusted you with caring for her. Trusted you with treating her the way she had always yearned to be treated. Other maids were scared of her, but you, you never feared her. You adored her. Everything about her was perfect to you, and she could see that admiration in your eyes each and every time you glanced her way.

"You seem surprised..." she noted the shocked look on your face with curiosity.

"No!" you immediately caught onto the subtle change of tone. "You–you're just so...beautiful, and I just thought–"

"Beautiful.." she chuckled to herself. "I wondered when you would admit your attraction to me. That was easier than I thought."

"What?" you returned your gaze back to her, hands still kneading at her soft milky skin.

"Do you think I haven't noticed the way you look at me? And the way you touch me?"

"I'm so sorry if I've made you uncomfortable–" you went to remove your hands but Alcina was quick to grab at your wrist to keep you from moving.

"I find it quite adorable actually. The way you try not to look at or touch my breasts, and avoid making any contact between my legs when you give me my massages. Here I am lying here naked, giving you full access to my body and you go completely red the second you get near my chest or my cunt." She licked her bottom lip with a deeper smirk than before, purposely dragging your palm up her body. "I know you want to feel me. To play with me. And if you truly think I'm beautiful..prove it."

Alcina had wanted you just as much as you did her, and in this moment it all made sense. The little pet names, the smiles she would only give to you, the gentle touches she would give you here and there all finally connected. She had been giving you clear signs since day one. She wanted.. no, she needed more from you.

She let go of your wrist once your body was leaning over hers, and your hand was hovering over her right breast. Your left hand was shaky while the other one had rested along her soft stomach to keep you from falling on top of her.

"Touch me, iubi. All of me." Alcina nodded her head, reassuring you even more than she was okay with you touching more of her than you ever have before.You hand finally falling to her chest, gently gliding across her firm chest, fingers lightly grazing over her hardened nipple that sent shivers down her spine.

"Just like that, draga." She cooed.

You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip when you pinched her nipple and heard a quiet blissful moan from Alcina. Her little noises and praising words helped relax you, making you more comfortable with your actions.

"You're so beautiful, Alcina." You admitted, crawling higher up her body to be face to face with the woman.

The corners of her lips turned upright at your sweet words, easily telling that by the look on your face, you were telling the truth.

"You have the most perfect smile I have ever seen," your fingers trailed along her faint smile lines, "you say you need to look more youthful, but I say you're already perfect in every way...and I do plan on proving it to you, if you'll let me."

Although she had already told you that she wanted you, you still needed to hear her say it again, wanting her to be sure of what she was doing before you started, knowing you were going to get lost in the moment.

"Touch me. Taste me. Do whatever you want to me, draga mea. I am yours. All yours." Her manicured fingers grabbed at your jaw, pulling you impossibly close so her lips could engulf yours in a fiery kiss.

Her lips were full and soft to the touch, and they were exactly how you imagined they would be. Your hands freely played with her nipples, pinching and pulling at the hardened buds to elicit more explicit noises from the woman beneath you. You massaged her breasts as you played with her, not straying from your previous task.

Your lips left hers after your body begged for air, but refused to leave her body as you gave her nose the sweetest of kisses that scrunched ever so slightly at the unexpected gesture.

"Tell me every thought that is going through that pretty head, draga." She stated as she grew curious after the little pecks you gave to her smile lines.

"You have the most beautiful face I have ever laid eyes on. The way your eyes gleam when the light shines on them at just the right angle. Your nose that scrunches every so often. Those smile lines that form when your lips turn upright. You're truly remarkable, Alcina. And that's not all..."

The woman's heart fluttered in her chest at your words. She loathed the aging lines that formed along her face, but your words had her rethinking everything.

"This neck... oh how I've been wanting to leave my mark on it." You mewled, sucking prominently along her pulse point that had the woman sigh in contentment.

She was going to listen to every word that spewed from your mouth. Truly listen to every word, every detail, every syllable that you decided to share with her, knowing you meant every bit of it.

"This chest. Words can't even describe how badly I've been wanting to touch it. To kiss it. To cherish it." You placed kiss after kiss along her large breasts. "The roundness, the fullness, the way they sit perfectly on your chest, with and without support. You're truly a work of art." You admitted, before pulling a pink nipple between your lips.

Alcina's fingers roamed your luscious locks, sweetly combing the hair away from your face so she could keep seeing you and the loving look you held in your eyes. Your oiled covered fingers slid down her elongated torso, leaving Alcina squirming beneath you once you reached the faintly ticklish spot just above her hips.

After kissing your way across her chest, instead of swirling your tongue around her other nipple, you decided to focus on the widespread veins that were prominently shown around her racing heart while your hands kneaded at her outer thighs.

“Your heart.. The same heart you say is the home of a monster, but I think otherwise. This is the heart that saved me. The heart that gave me a home. The same heart that is beating in sync with my own as I kiss along every possible inch of you. You’re a Goddess, Alcina… Zeița mea.”

You placed numerous kisses down her torso, past her navel, and across her hip bones that protrude ever so faintly from her body. “These hips.. I’ve admired their shape. The perfect curvature of your body is truly remarkable. I can’t help but bask in your beauty.” You nipped at her flesh, forcing an audible moan past Alcina’s crimson colored lips.

Deft fingers fell to her inner thighs, spreading her wide-open for you to nuzzle between her legs. “Don’t even get me started on your thighs, ‘Cina. All I’ve ever thought about was how much I’ve longed to be between them. For them to squeeze around me as I pleasure you with my tongue.” You licked a small trail up her thick thigh towards her glistening center.

“Keep going, draga.” Alcina encouraged you with a soft smile and an eager tug to your now messy locks.

“Eşti frumoasă” You whispered, just loud enough for her to hear. Your hot breath in contrast to her cold, wet cunt had her bite down on her bottom lip as she shivered in anticipation.

Your eyes glanced up as you flattened your tongue along her folds, Alcina’s face was barely noticeable behind her large breasts. Eyes darted to her hardened nipples, and you couldn’t help the moan that fell past your lips at not only the view in front of you, but the first tangy taste of her along your tongue.

Alcina was quiet, and you worried you weren’t pleasing her, but the hand behind your head pushing you harder against her aching cunt was more than enough to reassure you.

You held a firm grip to her thighs, keeping her legs spread as your tongue swirled around Alcina’s swollen, sensitive clit.

“You taste so fucking good,” you moaned.

You took your time with her, alternating between flicking and sucking her throbbing clit until you found the movements that forced an audible moan from her.

Her grip in your hair tightened as you built her up, keeping your focus entirely on her clit. Lewd noises filled the room as you ate her out, occasionally slurping her cunt.

Alcina was panting, feeling herself falling closer and closer to the edge. Her heart was racing, the same heart she had told you from the start that beated for nobody. But here it was, running wild all for you.

“Draga mea, don’t stop— please don’t stop…”

The sound of her begging, something the woman never did, had you rubbing your thighs together. You had her right where you wanted her.

Her walls were crumbling down to the point where she could let herself go. Her usual stoic and confident demeaned going down the drain, and instead being replaced with vulnerability and neediness.

“I’m so close,” she breathed out. “I’m going to come, draga! Don’t stop, don’t stop…” Her thighs threatened to close around you, and you let them. Meaty thighs wrapped around your head, keeping you tightly between her legs. Your air was restricted, but you didn’t let that stop you. Your pace was rapid, rough, and Alcina couldn’t help the expletives that flew from her mouth.

“Let go, zeița mea. Come for me.” Your tongue swirled tightly around her clit, ensuring to put pressure on her sensitive bud to completely unravel her.

Her long back arched from the bed, large veiny breasts lifting high in the air as Alcina came with a loud sinful, toe curling moan. You kept with your movements as you could feel your own wetness drip down your thighs, allowing Alcina to feel euphoric for as long as possible.

You sucked and slurped at her tangy cunt, licking up every last drop of her orgasm. Her thighs shook as they let go of your head, allowing you more access to air. “Okay, okay, dragoste.” She whimpered, pulling you gently up by your hair. You licked your lips with a pleased hum, and Alcina couldn’t stop herself from pulling you straight up to her to engulf you in a needy kiss.

She let out her own pleased moan as she tasted herself along your tongue while her lipstick smudged and colored your own lips in a deep crimson.

“Well, did I prove it, zeița mea?” you smiled against her lips.

Alcina couldn’t help but chuckle at your words, and she knew she had to admit her first defeat.

You cupped her flushed cheeks while bright golden eyes gazed at you longingly. You squeezed her cheeks ever so slightly as you gave the tip of her nose a gentle peck, forcing her skin to scrunch at the contact.

“Eşti frumoasă, Alcina.. The most beautiful being I have ever laid eyes on, I will say it again and again, and prove it to you as many times as I have to until you believe it yourself.” You admitted with a kind smile. “Zeița mea, my Alcina, I will worship you until the end of time.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

general masterlist | kinktober | taglist

#inlovewithgreta’s kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #alcina dimitrescu #resident evil alcina #re8 alcina #alcina x reader #lady alcina #lady dimitrescu #fanfic #smut #lesbiansmut #wlw smut #oneshot #body worship

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neteyamsyawntu · 7 months

Text

Kinktober 01

H a n d j o b

Neteyam x StepSis!Reader PART 1

✨Friendly Disclaimer: The content of this story contains aged-up characters! If this is something that makes you uncomfortable, please feel free to click or scroll away. The last thing I want is for anyone to read something they are uncomfortable with, however if you decide to interact with any negativity, you will be blocked from my blog as a result.

Warnings: 🔞MINORS DNI🔞, maturation, stepcest, vulgar language, mention of both ruts and heats, Neteyam in rut, dirty talk

A light wind blew through the lush trees of Pandora, the thick familiar scent of the forest filling your nostrils as you sat on your knees, fingers masterfully plucking through thick foliage in search of materials that would be later used for herbs. You were quite good at finding new remedies for just about everything, your grandmother, Mo'at, was quite impressed by your natural knowledge of the forest’s gifts. Of course she wasn’t truly your grandmother; Jake and Neytiri had adopted you when your parents had met their unfortunate fate during an RDA attack. At the time you were only 9 years of age, but you could still see their faces so clearly in your mind. It was hard not to miss them everyday, yet as time went on it progressively got easier, especially with the help of your new family.

Kiri had been one of your close friends even before the accident, so you were very much familiar with the family as a whole. When Jake had announced to them that they would be taking you in, you were more than welcomed in with open arms. Neteyam interestingly enough had already asserted himself as a type of guardian for you. In the early days, you would creep out of the Sully’s tent at night while the rest of the family was sound asleep, just to have some time to yourself. A young Neteyam would be awoken to the sound of your soft sobbing and quickly move out of the tent himself to cautiously seat himself beside you. At first not many words would be exchanged, but his company was welcomed, and soon it almost became a ritual for the two of you to sneak out at night just to talk. Although Neteyam wasn’t necessarily fond of breaking rules he made an exception for you, knowing that these meetings were slowly healing you in a way. Sharing this time with him always brought a flutter to your stomach, yet you figured it was just your body’s way of showing how much his company made you feel safe. Yet as you got older these flutters began to appear more frequently.

It was almost as if when you looked at Neteyam, it was always through someone else’s eyes. Like every detail as he grew was now presented as new and exciting, and you could hardly keep your eyes off him. It wasn’t until your first heat at 17 years of age that you truly knew what that flutter meant. When all you could think about was him as you ground your aching cunt into the mossy tree branch below you. The idea of him touching you, soothing you through your heat made your body shiver with longing, yet in your mind you couldn’t help, but feel guilty having these fantasies about your own brother, even if you weren’t related by blood. After this revelation you couldn’t help, but feel a tinge of awkwardness when you were around him, yet you tried to remain as neutral as possible, as if nothing had happened. As if you didn’t use the thought of Neteyam to get you off when your body most craved physical affection. A task that would soon become difficult as time went on, which is when you took it upon yourself to do chores for Mo’at to busy yourself.

At this point you had been out in the forest for about an hour, collecting variants of plants and herbs. Dropping the plant into your hand-woven basket, a familiar scent made your tail and ears flick with intrigue. The same musky scent you had found comfort in all those nights ago as a child. The smell of tree bark mixed with a sort of sweet wet dew. Your eyes wandered around at your surroundings before taking a more intentional sniff at the air to find the direction it was coming from. Just as you locked onto the destination of the scent, your eyes caught a glimpse of Neteyam’s back disappearing behind a thick trunk of a tree in the distance. Had he not noticed you were there as well? Curiosity peaked your mind at his purpose for being out here on his own. A solo hunt perhaps? With a mischievous smirk slowly growing across your face, your body acted just as quickly as your mind, finding the closest tree to yourself and climbing up its lengths through a couple layers of branches before stealthily making your way toward the unsuspecting Neteyam. Carefully, you perched yourself on a branch adjacent from where he stood, your body mostly covered by the leaves of the tree if he decided to look up.

You watched carefully as Neteyam leaned his back against the rough bark with a loud huff. He was panting as if he had been running for hours. Had he been running? Your mind felt fuzzy as a new wave of his scent washed over you. Something about it was…different. The usual notes were there, but they seemed stronger, more intense. Your jaw flexes giving a discreet sniff at the air once more trying to put your finger on that foreign note in his scent. It was a strange mix between sweat and the hot surface of a stone that had been basking in the sun's light for eternity. This scent was not anything you had associated with Neteyam before, it made your brows pinch in the center of your forehead. A raspy groan took you out of your thoughts as you focused back on the man below you. His chest was heaving with heavy breaths, his pants breaking into strained growls. You watched carefully as his hand trailed down the length of his abs, his fingertips skimming over the fabric at the hem of his loincloth. That’s when your gaze was directed slightly below his hand, the sight making your eyes widen, a gasp getting caught in your throat as you quickly bit your lip before it could escape.

Your wide eyes landed on the painfully obvious bulge in his loincloth. Your heart hammering against your rib cage as you witnessed Neteyam’s hand travel over the length of his tewng, cupping his erection, a strained hiss emerged from his throat as he slowly began to massage it through the thin fabric, his head leaning back, eyes fluttering closed for a moment in attempts to steady his breathing and soothe his discomfort. “Wiya…” he grumbled the curse to himself as he quickly became fed up with his own feeble attempts at calming himself. You should’ve been long gone by this point. Neteyam had clearly come out here for privacy and there you were gawking at him while he touched himself, this wasn’t right. You shifted to make your leave when then his scent washed over you again. Being this close to him somehow made it all the more intense, you could’ve sworn your knees would buckle if you weren’t already in a crouched position. That’s when the realization hit you. The new note in his scent was a sign of his rut. Your eyes gandered back down toward the scene below just as Neteyam let out a desperate groan. He sounded as if he was in pain.

You remember how painful your last heat was as you watched Neteyam struggle to calm himself, his breaths becoming more ragged by the second. Then a sudden thought dawned on you… perhaps… no it was a terrible idea…,but what if he didn’t have to spend his rut alone? What if you could help him? Would he even accept the help if you offered it to him? Or would doing so simply out yourself for being a pervert and ruin your relationship with your step brother forever? You tried to convince yourself that however that scenario went, would not end in a positive outcome, yet as you tried to make a second attempt at fleeing the scene, the mix of his intense pheromones and the distant sound of his needy groans as Neteyam palmed himself brought back that familiar flutter in your stomach. You could’ve sworn it even made your cunt ache for a moment. You release a soft hiss in disapproval at your own body’s reaction as you came to the consensus that simply leaving wasn’t going to be as easy as you had planned.

Carefully you made your way down the tree you were perched on dropping to your feet with a soft thud. Neteyam’s head snapped in the direction of the noise, his eyes widening slightly in his dazed and frustrated expression, taking in the sight of you as you straightened your stance, palms facing out at your sides as if to show you were no threat, which of course Neteyam already knew. “Teyam?” You spoke in a soft tone as you cautiously made your way over to him, taking small and discrete tip toeing steps as you studied his movements carefully, scared that he may pounce at any moment with the way his eyes bore into you. “Y-Y/N how did you- rrrg you should not be here right now. It is not safe for you” Neteyam spat quickly, stumbling over his own words as he continued to massage the bulge beneath his loincloth. “Shh, shh, shh I know, I know… it’s just…” your words trail off as your eyes fall between his legs once more, the sight alone enough to make your knees weak. “It looks painful… under your tewng.”.

Neteyam’s eyes narrowed on you slightly before falling back to watching his own hand go to work, futilely rubbing at himself, “It hurts- it hurts so bad Y/N…” Neteyam admits in a rough whimper, “I can’t… haah-“, “Shhh it’s alright, Nete. Let me… let me help you” you coo comfortingly to him as you finally step to stand in front of him, your eyes locked on his. So many emotions were pouring out of him all at once; desire, longing, frustration, desperation, it made you pity him to see him in such a state. “I can’t allow that. I am not myself right now…” Neteyam paused as he let out a low groan, palming himself with more motivation as your scent wafted into his nostrils, “I cannot promise your safety while I am in this state… please”. As much as you knew it was wise to heed his warning, your mind was already made up, and the arousal moistening your folds beneath your own loincloth only motivated you to stay all the more.

“You won’t hurt me, tsmukan. Let me make the pain go away…” you whisper softly him, slowly bringing your hand up to cup over his own, causing his breath to hitch at the contact, letting a barely audible curse fall from his lips as his eyes pinched closed, trying to hold back his instinctual urges as much as he could, yet allowing you to continue touching him, “There you go…” you hum as his hand falls to his side to grip at the rough bark behind him. The feeling of your hand brought a new sensation to his loins. It was almost addicting as he absentmindedly bucked his hips into your hand as you stroked him, “M-more.. Please, it is not enough.”. Blinking at his sudden eagerness you breathlessly nod, wrapping your hands around his waist to behind untying his loincloth. Neteyam released another needy groan, closing the distance between the two of you as he rested his forehead against your shoulder, inhaling your scent with earnest. His body felt hot against your own, that same hot, wet stone smell wafting back into your own nose, making your mind go dizzy for a moment, as your fingers fumble with the knot of his garment, your thighs absentmindedly squeezing themselves together as another prominent flutter in your stomach presented itself.

“You smell so good, yawne… not just here-“ Neteyam purred, nuzzling into the crook of your neck, his lips ever so slightly grazing across your sensitive skin there, “-,but here too…” Neteyam’s tone shifts into a low growl as his hands move down to roughly cup your ass, massaging and spreading your cheeks apart to allow the scent of your arousal to escape the confines of your closed thighs, releasing a shaky sigh as the smell made its way into his nostrils. “Y-yawne?” You echo the pet name that he had used, taken aback at his boldness to even use it with you, “Yes… my yawne… all mine” he growled into your ear, as his grip on your ass tightened causing you to let out a slight yelp. Bringing your focus back to the task at hand you quickly undo the knot in his loincloth, pulling it away from his pelvis as the garment fell loosely into your grasp, letting it fall to the ground beside you.

Neteyam lets out a rumbling hum as he watches you take in the view of his bare torso, a small smirk playing on his features. “I uh… I’m not sure what to do now…” you admit a little hesitantly, a warm blush painting itself across your cheeks as you avert your gaze back up to his own. Neteyam merely chuckled with a slight shake in his head. Of course you’ve never done anything like this before, with no prior knowledge on how to please a man. “Oh ma yawntutsyìp… so eager to please your tsmukan when you hardly have an idea of how… so cute” Carefully Neteyam reaches out for your hand, taking it in his. His palm is clammy and warm as it guides your own to the base of his shaft, licking his lips as your fingers brush against his cock, “Do not be embarrassed, I will show you. Now… wrap your fingers around it like this…” he instructs in a low hum, wrapping his hand tightly around your own as you close your hand around his cock, feeling it’s true weight in your hand, a strained “mmmn” vibrating his chest as you give him a small experimental squeeze. “Good… now follow my movement, yawne.”, holding your hand firmly in his own, Neteyam slowly guides your hand up his shaft, his eyelids fluttering as his lips begin to tremble slightly, a shaky exhale escaping through his nose just as you reach his tip. “F-fuuck..” He mutters under his breath, before sliding your hand back down to its original position at his base.

The moan that fell from his lips sent a shiver up your spine, your ears flicking in satisfaction as it echoed in your head, eager to repeat the movement to hear it again. Without his guidance this time, you drag your hand up his shaft and carefully bring it back down, adding a bit more pressure to your grip as you do. His hips almost immediately buck into your hand, caught off guard by your boldness, letting out another needy moan into the crook of your neck, “Did that feel good, ma tsmukan?” You purr teasingly in a innocent tone, “Y-yes… mmn good girl, just like that” he groans breathily, guiding your hand with three more slighter faster pumps before letting you take over completely, his head falling back against the tree behind him as you continue to stroke his cock, his hips greedily jerking to meet your hand with every few pumps. “Ahhh~ oh fuck yes… you’re doing such a good job for me, yawntutsyìp… feels so good…”. His words only made you work your hand more passionately, pumping his cock faster until his hips were stuttering, bottom lip sucked between his teeth with a mixture of needy moans and whimpers escaping his throat. You couldn’t deny that seeing him like this was making your body react in strange ways.

You release a low hum in response to one of his moans as you feel the sensation of your slick beginning to drip down your inner thigh. Your body felt as if it was climbing to match Neteyam’s own temperature, you were nearly panting yourself, leaning forward to find the place at Neteyam’s collarbone, where his pheromones seemed to pool the strongest, your tail curling hungrily at the smell. “Hmm you naughty little thing, getting hot and bothered off of your tsmukan’s pheromones…” Neteyam growls almost hypnotically into your ear, “I can smell you, yawne…ahh~. I can tell how much you are enjoying this. If we were related by blood, my pheromones would disgust you…but instead they draw you in… they make you want me the same way I want you…” Neteyam’s tone was as low as rumbling thunder in your ear. His growls were becoming louder and his hands more possessive as he gripped your hip roughly with one and sliding the other under your beaded top to knead at your breast. Your breath hitched in as his calloused fingers groped your bosom, fingers shifting between massaging the mound of flesh to tweaking your nipple between his fingers. The sensation made your back arch into him, letting out a trembling whimper, his words making your head spin as you tried to stay focused on making him feel good rather than yourself. The thought almost just as quickly was overshadowed when Neteyam brushes his lips along the skin of your neck before placing an experiential peck along your jugular. When the action causes you to gasp, Neteyam’s lips fold into a smirk, before pressing his lips more firmly against the same spot, this time coaxing out a soft whine from you, making his loins burn with want, “Such a pretty noise… do it again, yawne.” He whispers to you softly as his lips part just enough for you to feel the wetness of his mouth on your skin, teeth lightly poking at your neck as he begins to suck on the same spot, earning a breathy moan from you in response, his tail flicking in approval behind him.

It was now almost too hard to focus, your mind was preoccupied on savoring the feeling of his lips against your neck that the hand you have wrapped around his cock begins to loosen slightly and slow down. Completely lost in your own world, a sudden smack on the ass brings you back to reality with a yelp, “I didn’t say you could stop… Keep going.” Neteyam growls, giving your breast a firm squeeze to give you that extra bit of motivation. Your ears flat against your head in submission as you slowly nod, you begin to climb back up to your previous pace, pumping him with just enough pressure to make your step brother moan his hot breath into your neck. He was getting close, you could tell by the way his lips trembled against your neck, how his grip on your body was bordering bruising, fighting desperately to stay in control of his instincts, and yet he was losing. “Wa- haah… I want to be inside you so badly. Want you to take my dick like a good girl while I fuck you full of my cum…” he moans into your neck, pulling your body close enough to where the tip of his cock brushes against the smooth skin of your stomach everytime you pump him. “T-Teyam you shouldn’t talk like that.” You whine, now feeling his cock begin to twitch in your palm. “Why not? Is my offer too tempting? Are you imagining it, yawntutsyìp? Are you imagining yourself being fucked dumb on my cock, feeling me all the way up here in your womb?” Neteyam teases with a cocky smirk as he presses his palm against your lower abdomen. Your body trembles as his words begin to paint pictures in your mind. Your thighs pressing together once again, now mentally praying for a bit of friction between them.

“Look at you… so fucking needy for me…ahh!” Neteyam is suddenly cut off by your hand now jerking his cock mercilessly, working beads of precome out of his tip that slowly roll down your knuckles, his chest is heaving faster than it had been earlier, his eyes closing tightly, mouth falling open with ragged breaths and groans. With a shivering hand, Neteyam sheepishly holds your wrist as his cock begins to twitch more greedily, so close to bursting his hot seed into your hand, “Ohh- Y-Y/N,… Y/N slow down I’m gonna-.. oh shiiit!” Neteyam groans as ropes of cum spill from his tip, yet you don’t let up, continuing to stroke him until he’s run dry, his voice weak and nearly audible, tail curling and swatting in retaliation. Finally tightening his grip on your wrist, he tears your restless hand away from his cock, panting heavily as his gaze bores into you, eyes heavy lidded, pupils heavily dilated. Without a word, Neteyam’s eyes shift from your own to your now sticky hand, slowly bringing it up to your lips, “Go ahead… clean yourself.” He orders in a ragged growl. Your brows raise for a moment at the realization of what he was asking you to do, but there was something about the look in his eyes, as if he were testing you, and you’d be damned if you let him get the upper hand. With a slight gulp you part your lips, letting your tongue first slide across his hand that held your own, eyes locked on his as your trail your tongue to lick up the salty substance from your own hand. Neteyam’s satisfied growl echoing in your ears as you watched you eagerly devour his cum, all while enjoying the show you were putting on for him.

“Mmm fuck, yawne… such a little tease..” he purrs shoving your hand away from your mouth to capture your lips hungrily, his tongue eagerly shoving its way into your mouth, petting your tongue with his own. Your eyes are wide as you process the action, but quickly melt into the kiss, moaning into his mouth and wrapping your arms around his neck to pull you against him, noting his already stiffening cock pressing against your thigh. A trail of saliva connects your mouths as Neteyam pulls away for air, your own mouth eagerly following in search of his own once again, yet Neteyam merely chuckled and leans in to place a tender kiss on your forehead, “Do not worry, yawne, you’ll get as many kisses as you want… but first…” slowly Neteyam lowers himself to his knees in front of you, his fingers caressing the sides of your thighs as he nuzzles your lower abdomen gently, eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he takes in the smell of your dripping cunt, hiding behind your loincloth, before shifting his head to stare up at you, his eyes almost seem to shift in color for a moment as he drags the flat of his tongue along your soft belly, “…I want to taste you…”

Tag list: @pandoraslxna @dvxsja @jakexneytiri @blue-slxt @neteyamsoare@tiredmamaissy, @neteyamsikran @oceanstar19 @hadesbabygurl @xylianasblog @neteyamssyulang @anonymousailurophile @netyamstruelove @eyrina-avatar @justcaptiannoodles

#avatar #avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam smut #avatar twow #avatarsmut #neteyam sully smut #neteyam x reader #stepbro!Neteyam #tw stepcest #lunaskinktober2023

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hyunnie04 · 1 month

Text

muse

hwang hyunjin x reader, fluff | m.list

wc: 2.1k

synopsis: you can't decide what to give hyunjin for his birthday. a/n: very self indulgent theme/fic!! i like to draw myself so i thought i'd write about it for his birthday :> i apologize for being a bit late, irl obligations have been kicking my ass lately i'm sorry my hyune but i hope you guys like it! T-T

march was a month full of new beginnings. the year was only starting, january and february flying by like a breeze. remnants of winter still clung in the air and on the branches of the trees, pillowing them with the softness of white snow. it was also getting warmer, the chill no longer having its harsh bite and welcoming the inevitable pinks and greens of spring to come. and for you, new beginnings also meant taking on projects that you never thought you would be able to do.

hyunjin's birthday was only a few days away, just a little less than a week from now.

you've spent the entire afternoon in a panic after the realization, racking your brain for any ideas, thinking what you could possibly do for his present only to come up empty handed. buying a gift for him is certainly the easier option and there was absolutely nothing wrong with it, seeing as hyunjin was the type of person to appreciate whatever you give him, be it big or small, expensive or not. it was just the matter of wanting to surprise him with a gift that he most likely doesn’t already have.

you sigh and rest your head on the back of the couch, staring up at the ceiling in thought. your eyes silently wander towards the painting that hung on the wall of your tiny apartment.

it was painted by hyunjin himself, a bouquet of your favorite flowers that he had given you for your own birthday. you always loved staring at it, earning a place in your favorite corner of the room.

you often stare at it, delving into the intricacies of each brush stroke, how the colors come together in harmony, the symbolism and sentimentality behind it all, and just how much love was poured into making it. hyunjin truly had a talent in capturing the likeness and essence of his subjects, even the simplest ones.

it was almost tradition, how he makes his closest family and friends paintings when it was their birthday or when there was a special occasion. he used his oil paints that you've become familiar with, the dozens of tubes and pots of color messily strewn all across his little studio back at his dorm.

it was a such thoughtful gesture, painting that was. taking his time out of his day to make something out of nothing, showing that he truly cared about the person. whenever you would visit him on his days off, he was always immersed in his craft. adept fingers swiping over charcoal, hands dipping into paint, a sight you always love seeing. you still remember the photo you took secretly of him in his studio, blissfully painting the night away.

you drum your hands on the arm rest, returning to brainstorm for ideas, still in deep thought. and then it all suddenly clicked.

you have always admired hyunjin and his work, so why not make him one in return?

he was always giving others gorgeous pieces of art, he certainly deserved to have his own. you were no picasso and certainly no hyunjin, but the act of gift giving has always been your favorite way of showing your love.

you had a basic grasp of how the medium was used, having watched hyunjin more than enough times. the techniques he had taught you during one of your art sessions together might come in handy as well. the one and only problem was that it left you with such little time to finish it. oh well, it was better to start late than never.

the next day, you picked up and gathered the necessary materials from the art supply shop you knew hyunjin frequented, recognizing the different kinds of paints, sizes and types of canvases, and brushes that he likes to use. you laid them out on your living room floor upon arriving home, finally starting on your little project.

the remainder of the days leading up to his birthday were spent awake during ungodly hours into the night, full of endless trials and errors, scrapped ideas and tons of caffeine. your living room became your makeshift studio, a tarp laid down the center to catch the unavoidable mess you surely would be making. learning a completely different and unfamiliar medium from what you were used to was difficult, but you were determined and your mind was set.

hyunjin was getting worried. it had been a few days since he last saw you, nonetheless heard anything. he understood that the two of you were quite busy people, not always finding the time to talk. but after five missed calls and maybe a dozen texts over the span of two days and no reply? he was ill at ease.

maybe he was overreacting, but he knew that you would've at least sent something to acknowledge his texts. he decided to ask his friends about your whereabouts, asking if anyone had contact with you, only earning head shakes in return.

"have you tried going to their place?" chan asks the ravenette, leaning his back on the dance practice room’s mirrored walls. hyunjin huffs, mouth forming into a slight pout, shaking his head no. practice was getting more challenging as the comeback and schedules started to pile up, his attendance becoming crucial.

"you can go later, we don't have anything scheduled for tomorrow." his hyung removes his cap, fluffing his curls underneath. hyunjin breathes out a sigh of relief, sending him a quick thank you.

the older of the two nods in understanding, reaching a hand out to hyunjin upon standing on his feet. back to practice they went.

it was the night before his birthday. getting stubborn paint off your brushes was the worst, is what you've learned these past several days of non-stop painting. even with the appropriate solvent, the paint can and is still clinging stubbornly onto its fibers; leaving you in the bathroom sink to scrub them tediously under soap and some warm water.

your hands start to ache with all the scrubbing, perhaps growing tired as well from the painting, but you'd like to think that the momentary pain was worth it. the composition of it was finally starting to come together. the work flow became easier once you figured out a concept and a theme you were happy with, inspiration and motivation coming in effortlessly now. it only needed some last few touches, you could only hope he would like it as much as you ended up liking it too.

after the brushes were cleaned to the best of your abilities, you pat them dry, leaving them on the counter for the time being.

"y/n? are you home?" your hands still at the sound of the front door opening. it was undeniably hyunjin's voice.

you and hyunjin lived apart despite dating for quite a long while. it was a mutual agreement that it would be more convenient for the two of you to live separately, his job requiring him to live closer to his place of work. you gave him a spare key so he could come by whenever he liked, but you didn’t expect him at all to drop by today.

you originally thought nothing of it for a moment, even brushing it off. but then the panic started to set in. he would see it right away, the canvas sitting right in front of the living room with no cloth to cover it. if you go out now, you might have a chance of covering it up before he finds out.

rushing out of the bathroom after wiping your hands dry, you've quickly noticed how it had suddenly gone quiet. you peak around the corner, seeing him standing idly in the middle of your living room, still unaware of your presence.

it was too late. you see the familiar ebony locks greet you upon arriving. his mouth practically hanging open as he stares at the easel facing him, winter coat slung heavily on his left arm.

"surprise?" you flush upon seeing his head whip towards your figure, leaned against the arch of the doorway. it was also a little embarrassing, not having the time to clean up.

"is...that me?" he says in quiet disbelief. you can’t quite decipher if his reaction was good or bad but you nod, coming up to stand beside him. he stares at the canvas once more, no doubt taking in the details of it. you start to feel a little anxious under his gaze, silently wondering if he likes it.

"it's not done yet, that's why it looks a little rough." you pause, hesitation lacing your voice. he would eventually find out, having already seen it. “it was supposed to be your surprise birthday present.” is what you ended up saying, speech meek and low, barely audible.

his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as he turns his eyes back to you. a noticeable redness staining his cheeks.

“wow,” he breathes out, tilting his head closer to gaze on the finer details. hyunjin pauses for a moment before replying. “this is beautiful.” his voice light, feathery. his fingertips, slender and lithe, hovering above as if to trace it. relief washed over you hearing him say it, your nerves easing and cheeks warming in return.

“you think so?” you purse your lips before smiling gratefully at him, noting the masking tape still plastered on its borders and small parts of it still unblended but thank him earnestly nonetheless.

“i figured since you always make people art on their birthday," you took to move to the couch, the ache in your body starting to take its toll. "i thought i'd give back and make you one too."

hyunjin was, in short- moved. the portrait was of him sitting in his art studio, the sun falling and spilling on his form peaking through the windows. although his elegantly curved back was turned and it was impossible to see his face, it was unmistakable that it was him.

he was truly not expecting anything, he was just happy with the prospect of just being with you on his special day. the thoughtfulness, sentimentality, and affection that came with making gifts with him in mind, he didn’t think it was possible to love you more than he already did. his eyes are lost in yours, the contours of his handsome face highlighted by the dim lights of your living room.

“i know it's bad but-”

hyunjin doesn’t let you continue, pulling you into a sudden kiss, throwing his coat on the couch haphazardly. your immediate response was to wrap your hands around his neck, hands wandering up and towards his hair. you could feel his smile on his mouth as he kisses you, grabbing the nape of your neck to steady your form. the kiss is intoxicating, feeling the love upon his soft movements, his warmth contrasting the chill from outside.

when he parts from you, he’s giddy, and jumping around like the happiest ferret you’ve ever seen. the wisps of hair fall to his temple, framing his beautiful face. “thank you, darling.”

“even if it’s not done yet- i love it,” he presses another kiss to the side of your mouth. “so much.” you could only laugh in response, completely flustered and enamored by his reaction.

hyunjin pulls you towards his chest, both arms locking around your shoulders. you could smell the perfume he always likes to wear. “is this why you weren’t picking up your phone?”

“my phone?” you pat your pockets in search, only to find it missing. your mind must’ve slid away, not knowing at all where it was but you could search for it later. “oh, yeah. m’ sorry.” the apology is muffled by the fabric of his shirt. he hums, his worries fading. you thought he was going to let you go, but he retaliates by resuming to press more kisses into you.

“okay, okay! thank you. i’m glad you like it.” you untangle his long arms from your body in order to stand up while hyunjin watches you do so, curiosity in his eyes. you already miss the warmth he radiated.

“but, technically-” you start by grabbing the easel and placing it near the wall and out of his view, grabbing the stray tubes of paint off the floor and putting them away in their basket. “it’s still not your birthday.”

his plump lips form into a pout as he continues to watch you clean up. “and i’m not quite done with it yet so you have to wait.” placing a quick ‘boop’ to his nose, you head to the bathroom to freshen up for bed.

hyunjin checks his wrist watch as he follows you suit, his white teeth poking out. his arms catch you once again, wrapping you from behind. "it's 12."

amused by his antics, you let out another laugh before turning around in his hold to face him again, pressing a kiss on his soft lips.”in that case, i’ill finish it as soon as possible and-”

"happy birthday, my dearest."

please reblog or leave a comment if you like my work! it motivates me to keep writing ♡ all works are written by hyunnie04, please do not repost on other sites.

#hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin imagines #skz scenarios #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #skz fluff #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids fluff

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randomyuu · 8 months

Text

i keep the warmest truth.

Well you look at that. Another comic hahahaha why did I do this to myself—

But I do enjoy drawing this comic! It was a different kind of challenge, where this one focuses a lot on close-ups, so I need to learn about the subtlety of expressions. Can’t say I learn a lot (I use lots of copy-pasting of the same position lmao), but I still learn... something!

This beautiful one-shot fic is titled i keep the warmest truth by Dehawny. If I have to summarise the fic, it’s basically Ace!Gojou and Adorable!Yuuji. It's more like gray ace but better keep the “A” going, haha. And as usual, the fic is NSFW, so please do read the tags before you decide to give it a read.

Ace!Gojou is something I don’t know I need. I think I love almost every kind of Gojou headcanons, but Ace!Gojou holds a special place in my heart. I could be biased as someone in the ace spectrum, but the way Dehawny wrote Gojou and Yuuji’s interaction is truly heartwarming. And also a bit possessive, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Possessive Gojou is my jam.

And Yuuji. Oh, dear lord where do I even start with this boy. I don’t have enough vocabularies to express how much I adore Yuuji. Him being his horny teen-self and constantly worrying about making the pleasure mutual is too much for my heart. And he’s still understanding of Gojou’s sexuality. Yuuji is kind, like that. Don’t mind me as I’m crying out happy tears in the corner.

Alrighty, below are my thoughts as I drew this, as usual haha:

After I got a taste with comic-making from my previous GoYuu comic, this one is a bit easier to plan once I narrowed down the scene I want to draw. I wanted the comic to start with Gojou positioning himself and Yuuji in the futon, bringing up Yuuji’s question weeks ago, but that means I have to draw 10+ pages and I was like, “haha nope”. I still love my hands, thank you very much. So I start with Yuuji’s reaction after Gojou explains a bit about his sexuality.

Panelling is still a struggle. In a way that I still feel that the layout can be improved, but I can’t for the life of me figured out what needs to be improved. I guess this kind of thing will come eventually, but not now.

During the sketching, I must say I got super hyped drawing Gojou’s eyes. That eye close-up? I really want to try making it as ethereal as possible in an achromatic setting. It’s intimidating, don’t get me wrong, but I have always loved drawing eyes since I was a kid and this is a fun thing to test my love for eyes.

If I have to complain… it would be the intimate position of them laying on the futon. I never really try drawing “couple-like” positions before, but it was really hard! Like, holy shit, can you guys stop being so awkward looking? Where the hell did I draw it wrong??? Thankfully references have helped me a lot with positioning.

The line art took sooo much time because I realise I want to make Gojou and Yuuji more… buff (kinda) so I need to re-sketch a bit :(( but the result is better than the previous one, so I’ll take what I can get haha. And I start to really like using screentones for shading—once I properly learn how to do manga layout, I think I might fall in love with drawing mangas!

But overall, this is a fun process to do, and I hope you enjoy the comic and this rambling of mine! :D

#Yuu's art #jjk-fic-fanart #jjk-ship #jjk ship #五悠 #goyuu #goyu #5u #gojou x yuuji #gojo x yuji #gojo x itadori #tumblr's UI changed quite a bit huh #I hope there's no problem with the uploaded images

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parkerslatte · 2 months

Text

Finding Home || Part Three

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: mentions of parental death

Summary: Azriel and Y/N cross of two tasks and get to know each other a little better.

Finding Home Masterlist

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

If Azriel had thought a week ago that he would be sitting outside a small cafe with flowers overflowing in hanging baskets waiting for Y/N to come out with drinks, he would think it was a completely made up scenario in his head. But it was his reality. The air was cold but it was nothing that he couldn’t handle, but Y/N was wrapped up in her scarf, thick coat and gloves and shivering as she sat in her chair, placing a mug of coffee in front of him.

As he looked at her, he did feel bad. The only reason they needed to sit outside was because of him. There was nowhere inside the cafe where Azriel could sit comfortably with his wings. Azriel watched as Y/N pulled out a seat and sat down opposite him, cupping her mug between her two gloved hands. She raised her gaze and met Azriel’s slightly concerned one.

“What’s with the look?” Y/N asked, her voice slightly muffled by her scarf.

“You can sit inside,” Azriel said. “I can stay out here.”

Y/N frowned. “Absolutely not! We are completing that list together. It will not be together if I have my coffee indoors while you sit out here all on your own.”

“But you are shivering,” Azriel said.

Despite the many layers Y/N wore, there was still a small shake to her body that Azriel could tell she was trying to hide. “I will be fine,” she answered. “Now, how do you want to tackle the tasks?”

Azriel took a sip of his coffee, the small chill in his body slowly warming. He was used to the cold temperature yet the warm drink still felt satisfying spreading through his body. “I don’t know. I haven’t even read the whole list.”

Y/N held out one of her gloved hands. “Give me the list.”

Without any questions, Azriel handed over the list and Y/N unfolded it and placed it on the table. She shuffled her chair closer to him, the metal scraping against the cobblestone street. While Y/N’s eyes were on the list in front of her, Azriel’s were on her. He still couldn’t believe that someone was willing to do any of these tasks with him.

“We can cross a lot of these off in one go,” Y/N said. “You can easily do number one and number thirty at the same time.”

“What are those?” Azriel questioned.

“Read a book and relax,” Y/N said. “In fact you can easily pair number twenty two with it as well. Have breakfast in bed.”

Azriel rolled his eyes. “I don’t see how I could have possibly done that by myself. I would need to go to the kitchen and make the food then go back to my room. It would be easier to just sit at the kitchen table.”

Y/N giggled and Azriel turned his head toward her. “What’s so funny?”

“That you assume that I will make you breakfast in bed.”

Azriel’s eyes widened. “That’s not what I meant, I just…”

Y/N placed her gloved hand on his forearm. “Relax, I’m just teasing. But I will be expecting you to make me breakfast in bed too.”

“There will be no doubt about that,” Azriel replied, his gaze falling to the list once again. “So what shall we do about the theatre one? As far as I know the theatre in Velaris is currently under construction.”

“Well, there is a theatre in the Summer Court, it’s right on the beach. It’s gorgeous! My father was originally from the Summer Court and he took me there when I was child. I try to go back on occasion. It’s a way to remember him.”

“I’m sorry,” Azriel said, placing his hand on top of her gloved one.

Y/N smiled, yet it didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s okay. It didn’t happen suddenly or anything, he caught an illness that was incurable, even the best healers couldn’t help him. For a year I was expecting it but even when it happened, it was a surprise.”

“When did it happen?” Azriel asked.

“Nearly one-hundred years ago,” Y/N answered, looking at where Azriel’s hand rested on top of hers.

Azriel looked at Y/N, truly looked at her. Despite her happy and calm demeanour, there was a certain sadness lurking beneath the surface. Something within him wanted to take all of that sadness and pain away and make sure that she never had to feel it again.

Y/N cleared her throat. “So, how about we tackle two of these tasks today? One obviously being the coffee and the second could number seventeen, cook dinner? Only if you want to, of course.”

Azriel smiled. “Of course I want to.”

The smile that spread across Y/N’s face was unlike anything Azriel had ever seen. It felt as if a warm blanket had been draped across him. “Great,” Y/N said. “We can buy some ingredients and go back to my apartment. Unless you want to do it at yours?”

Azriel thought of his apartment. The lifeless rooms that held no meaning to him. He had moved into it when he began to feel like he was intruding on Cassian and Nesta. Every morning he would have breakfast with the two of them and he could tell that both of them were too polite to mention that they just wanted breakfast for the two of them.

His small apartment was the first and only thing he looked at before he bought it. It did its job well enough and that was all Azriel was after. Now…he only craved a home. Somewhere where memories are etched into the walls and floors. Somewhere where he could make his own memories…with his own family someday. Y/N’s apartment was the closest thing to that. Even if he hadn’t even fully looked around it, just from the living area alone, Azriel could tell it was well loved and lived in. He could tell that it was a home, not just a building.

“No, your apartment is fine with me,” Azriel answered.

Y/N nodded and folded up the list and placed it within her own pocket. Azriel couldn’t help but smile at that simple action. She was really in it for the long haul with him. This complete stranger he met not even twenty-four hours ago.

“I don’t have a particular recipe in mind but when we buy the ingredients, we can just improvise,” Y/N said, taking a sip from her coffee.

Azriel agreed and lifted his own coffee back to his lips, smiling as he took a sip. The feeling of a real smile still felt foreign on his face yet he was getting used to it. As he looked at Y/N wth her thick scarf, gloves and coat he couldn’t help but smile a little wider. He wasn’t expecting to be caught but as soon as Y/N’s eyes met his, she smiled in return. Her quiet laugh was the only sound he could focus on.

“What?” Azriel asked.

Y/N shook her head. “Nothing, I just…you weren’t who I expected you to be.”

Azriel frowned. “What do you mean?”

Y/N shrugged. “I just didn’t expect the shadowsinger of the Night Court to be all smiles and laughs. It’s far from the way others talk about you.”

Azriel deflated a little in his chair and Y/N’s eyes widened. “Not that it’s a bad thing. I was just expecting you to be…broodier, I suppose. But you seem to smile a lot. It’s rather beautiful.”

Her compliment sent another faint blush across Azriel’s cheeks. He hadn’t received attention like this from someone for quite a while. It was nice.

“I-thank you, Y/N,” Azriel said.

Y/N waved her hand dismissively. “You don’t need to thank me for a simple compliment you know damn well is true. Just look at those dimples.”

Azriel cleared his throat. “You are ruining my reputation here.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “It was ruined the moment that gorgeous smile appeared on your face.”

Azriel’s cheeks began to ache. He tried to fight the smile away but he couldn’t no matter how hard he tried. “So,” he said, changing the subject, “when do you want to buy the ingredients?”

Y/N quickly glanced at her coffee, it was nearly empty. She lifted it to her lips and took a final sip. “Now, if you are ready too?”

The coffee in Azriel’s mug was gone, only a tiny amount remained, not even enough for a mouthful. “Let’s go.”

As the two stood to their feet, Y/N suddenly gasped. “Wait, before we go.”

She dug in her pocket and pulled out the folded list and placed it down on the small wooden table. “We can now cross one thing off.” She handed a pencil to Azriel. “You can do the honours.”

Azriel took the pencil from her grasp, her fingertips brushing against hers. He expected her to pull her hand away the moment they made contact but she didn’t. In fact Y/N didn’t even pay any attention to the scars on his hands. All she did was look at him with an excited expression on her face. Azriel didn’t want to recall his hand.

“One down, twenty-nine to go,” Y/N said as Azriel reluctantly pulled his hand away to cross out the task.

“Twenty-nine to go,” Azriel repeated.

Originally thirty tasks seemed to be a long and pointless list but now as he stared down at it, he couldn’t help but think that it was too short. He was only one task down but he had found that he hadn’t had as much fun or smiled as much as he had in a long time. The way Azriel felt; he never wanted the feeling to end.

“Let’s go and get the ingredients,” Y/N said, tucking the list back into her pocket. “There was a recipe my parents used to make that I loved when I was younger. If that’s okay with you? If there is something you would like to make, just tell me. They are your tasks after all.”

“That sounds perfect to me, Y/N,” Azriel said.

She smiled and linked her arm through his. “Then let’s go, shadowsinger. Let’s show the rest of Velaris how intimidating you are with that gorgeous smile.”

Azriel couldn’t help but blush.

***

The moment Y/N and Azriel entered her apartment, it was getting dark outside. Their trip to gather ingredients for their meal took a lot longer than originally anticipated. The two of them simply enjoyed strolling around different stores with one another. The domesticity of it all made Azriel’s heart soar.

“So,” Azriel said as he peeled potatoes. “Tell me more about yourself, Y/N. I’m sure you have spent more time talking about my smile than you have talking about yourself.”

Y/N laughed as she nudged Azriel out of the way to reach for the carrots next to him. “I can’t help it if your smile takes my breath away and I find it hard to speak.”

Azriel rolled his eyes but remained silent.

“In all honesty, I’m not too interesting,” Y/N said.

“Liar,” Azriel said, nudging her with his elbow lightly.

“I’m serious!” Y/N exclaimed. “I just have a simple job.”

“What is it?” Azriel asked. “You haven’t mentioned anything about your job so far.”

“I haven’t? Hmm, must have slipped my mind,” Y/N said and began to chop up the carrots. “If you must know, I work in a music shop. I teach lessons there on occasion too.”

Azriel smiled softly. “That is not simple.”

“It really is,” Y/N replied. “It’s nothing like a job defending this court and keeping it safe.”

Azriel frowned. “It may not be but it is a beautiful job regardless. What do you teach?”

“Mostly piano and violin,” Y/N answered. “I mainly teach children but sometimes I get some older fae request lessons.”

“How long have you taught them?”

“Probably close to a century now,” Y/N replied before sighing. “Before that I simply worked in a bakery.”

Azriel gleaned over and noticed her eyes glossed over in sadness. He stopped peeling the potato immediately. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Y/N said, though it was clear she wasn’t. “It’s just…the reason why I started to teach children to play music is because it is what my father taught me. From the moment I could walk he began to teach me piano. I was awful at first and I hated playing it. But I soon fell in love with it.”

Azriel placed his hand gently upon hers, squeezing it to offer some comfort. Y/N’s eyes snapped to his hand then to his eyes. A small smile appeared on her face.

“That piano over there was his,” Y/N said, glancing to the corner of the room where a piano resided covered in a layer of dust. “I haven’t been able to play it since he passed.”

“It is a beautiful piano,” Azriel said.

Y/N smiled. “It truly is. My mother gifted it to him for their mating ceremony.”

Azriel smiled. “She must have truly loved him. It is a beautiful gift.”

“She did,” Y/N said. “I don’t remember much of my mother, she died when I was only two years old. But I do remember the love she had for my father. And from what I vaguely remember and from what my father told me, she loved me very much.”

Azriel smiled. “Your parents sounded wonderful.”

“They were,” Y/N said sadly. “My mother was Illyrian, you know?”

“Really?” Azriel asked, looking to her back, seeing if she had hidden wings she hadn’t told him about. “I wouldn’t have guessed.”

Y/N chuckled. “A lot of people don’t realise. I was born without wings, not even the power to summon them at all.”

Azriel looked down at the potato he held in his hands as he realised he had gotten caught looking for the most distinguishable feature of an Illyrian.

Y/N brushed her hair behind her ears. “My ears aren’t as pointed as the High Fae’s either, but not as rounded as yours.”

Azriel looked at her ears, at the tips that seemed different to any he had seen before. Though he was rather distracted by the jewellery that decorated them.

“So it seems that we have something in common, Azriel,” Y/N said.

Azriel looked away from the jewellery that decorated her ears and back to her eyes. “It seems that we do.”

Y/N smiled before picking up her carrot again. “Tell me about yourself now. I feel like I’ve spoken about myself forever.”

“There is not much to talk about,” Azriel answered.

Y/N groaned. “Come on! You are what? Over five-hundred years old? There is surely plenty you can talk to me about.”

“You are not that much younger than me!” Azriel exclaimed. “There is surely more fot you to talk about too.”

Y/N gasped dramatically. “You should never assume a female’s age, Azriel. Now, tell me about yourself. Remember I am holding a knife, I might not be able to do anything with it, but remember I am holding one.”

Azriel huffed out a laugh. “What do you want to know?”

“What are your hobbies? What do you like to do except flash that smile about?”

Azriel nudged her gently before cutting into the potato. “I am…not really sure what I like doing.”

“Come on,” Y/N said. “There has to be something.”

The shadowsinger shrugged. “I like reading, I suppose.”

“Great, that’s a start,” Y/N said.

Azriel placed the potato in the pan and moved onto another but found himself at a loss for words. What did he like to do? In his feelings of loneliness he had seemed to abandon everything he enjoyed doing in favour of taking on more tasks and missions to distract himself and keep himself busy. He was sure that he hadn’t picked up a book for his own pleasure in quite some time.

“I honestly can’t think of what I enjoy doing,” Azriel admitted. “It’s been a while since I have done anything for my own personal pleasure.”

Y/N looked up at him, something akin to empathy in her eyes. Azriel looked away quickly and continued to peel the potato. “I normally just ask Rhys to send me on more missions to fill my time.”

“You need to take time for yourself,” Y/N said, lowering the carrot once again.

Azriel scoffed. “I’ve taken enough time for myself. All I ever am is by myself.”

“I never mentioned anything about being by yourself,” Y/N said. “Do the things you enjoy doing but invite someone along.”

Azriel looked down at her, his eyes calculating before his shoulders slumped. “It’s difficult. Every conversation I have with my family now is all about their family. I just feel so…behind.”

Saying exactly what he was feeling aloud made everything real but at the same time lifted a small amount of the weight on his shoulders.

“It’s okay to be behind, you have a long life Azriel. You don’t need to catch up with your family, you can take things at your own pace,” Y/N said, toying with a carrot shaving.

“Y/N, I am nearly five hundred and fifty years old,” Azriel said. “If I was destined to have a family, surely I would have been blessed with one by now.”

Y/N shrugged. “I am four hundred and ninety eight. If I were destined to have a family, surely I would have one by now. It doesn’t matter when you begin your family, Azriel. What matters is that you are ready to start it with the right person.”

“You’ve never found that person?” Azriel found himself asking.

Y/N shook her head. “I thought I did. It was a long time ago now but he was from the Winter Court and I was in love with him and he was in love with me.”

“What happened?” Azriel asked.

“We grew apart,” Y/N replied. “He was part of the Winter Court’s army and was constantly busy with his duties where we would have no time to see one another. We still loved one another but we weren’t in love with one another. It ended amicably, I was even invited to his wedding. When I saw them, that was the love that he deserved, not the surface level love I was offering.”

“What about you? I guess you haven’t found that person either?” Y/N questioned.

Azriel thought of Elain. “I thought I did too. But we were not compatible at all. After the initial…lust passed, we were left with stale conversation. She is a great friend now, though. There has been no one since.”

“There’s another thing,” Y/N said.

“Another what?”

“Thing we have in common,” Y/N responded and shuffled over to the other side of the kitchen and poured glasses of wine out and passed one to Azriel. “To our loveless lives.”

Azriel huffed out a laugh and clinked his glass against hers. “To our loveless lives.”

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hajoon-iz-won · 2 months

Text

Best First Time Ever!

PAIRINGS: non-idol Heeseung x reader

SUMMARY: Y/N, a twenty-year-old girl, was determined to have her best first time ever at a club. She had grown up in a small town with conservative parents who didn't seem to care about her dating life or losing her virginity. Now, she thought it was easier to find someone to feel good with for a night at a club than trying to maintain an actual relationship.

WARNINGS:

smut, fluff, 18+ mdni

Dom!Heeseung, Sub!reader, gentle domHeeseung, fingering, size kink, breeding kink, reader loses her virginity, dirty talk, mentions of alcohol and getting drunk, pet names(baby, sweetheart, angel), creampie, aftercare

Word Count: 6.1k

Today would have been the day. Y/N was resolved that today would have been the day. It wasn't like she did this kind of thing frequently — no, she was undeniably more calm concentrating on in her dorm than in clearly clubs and hitting the dance floor with outsiders. In any case, she'd had enough of being prodded by her friends and roommate. "Twenty years of age, you're truly still a virgin? ” She had recently never felt like it made a difference, and zeroing in on her examinations had forever been the need. Among that and working, she hadn't actually had a lot of chance to zero in on dating, considerably less losing her virginity. In any case, presently… ?

Indeed, she guessed it was far more straightforward to simply track down somebody to feel quite a bit better with for a night at a club than need to disrupt her timetable by attempting to keep a genuine relationship. Indeed, even still, she was somewhat anxious. "Goodness, come on, you will be fine. You look perfect; it'll benefit you to get out for an evening!" Her closest friend offered her a smile and an energetic wink, the blonde lady throwing a simple arm around the more youthful young lady's shoulder. "I endeavored to make you look this great; I'll be cursed assuming I let you back down of flaunting my craftsmanship," Gaeun prodded, directing Y/N towards the entry of the club. "Plus, would you say you are truly having the college experience in the event that you don't look at a club no less than once? I'd prefer not to see my dearest friend denied of such a significant encounter! “ A low moan got away from Y/N, a hand moving upwards to card through dull dark red locks, emerald eyes looking at her companions faces. "I'm here, right? I'm not going to chicken out. I just. Do you have a peculiar outlook on being here? I don't actually have the foggiest idea acceptable behavior in places like this," she conceded. Not that that was actually her issue; she'd be quick to concede that she had grown up extraordinarily protected. Regardless, she realized she was the cliché illustration of that modest community young lady, having experienced childhood with a little ranch with her conservative mother and father.

It wasn't so much that they had been purposefully attempting to conceal the world from her possibly; she just questioned they had a lot of interest in cooperating with such things themselves, so how could they teach their sweet young lady on it? Also, sex? God, sex was, obviously, not discussed. Sex was marriage, and marriage alone, they had demanded, and she would have no need to be familiar with it up to that point. No doubt, as though. Culture shock was likely the most ideal way to depict what she had felt after leaving that modest community interestingly. Her college was situated in a major city, all things considered, many miles from the solace of her home and family. Furthermore, things were… So unique here.

Indeed, even now, two years in the wake of disappearing for school, she still now and again winds up attempting to change. This, however, wanted to beat a major wall for her. "I guarantee we'll have a great time," Gaeun guaranteed, snatching her hand and pulling her inside. "This is my #1 club in the city. It generally has the best music, the beverages are modest, and there aren't a lot of wet blankets." The principal thing Y/N saw as they moved toward the entryways and she was accordingly pulled inside was the music. It was difficult to make out what it was precisely at the volume it was at, however there was a profound, beating bass that appeared to vibrate through her, resonating in a consistent heartbeat she'd up until recently never experienced. Emerald eyes went wide in shock at it, however it was nowhere near unsavory. “See? I told you, it's great, right? Come on." Another little pull, and Y/N wound up moving no sweat, energetic expectation and fervor for something new and exciting getting comfortable her bones, far offsetting her anxiety. The lights were darkened, countered by brilliant hued strobes that illuminated the room in dynamic, moving examples, creating weird shaded areas on bodies moving and moving together to the beat on the dance floor. The music droned, stronger now than when they'd originally entered, and she wound up more charmed than she suspected it would be. In the event that she could just allow herself to unwind… All things considered, this really seemed to be loads of tomfoolery.

After an hour, Y/N had concluded she most certainly owed Gaeun for hauling her out. She was having a great time, body influencing against others to the profound, thundering bass of the music generally around her, liquor in her veins, and disposing of any excess uneasiness. Gaeun had vanished into the group some time prior, immovably pulling on the hand of a man she had met at the bar while getting them drinks, leaving Y/N all alone to partake in the music. Her head felt light even as she advanced toward the bar, rapidly requesting another fruity beverage. They were delightful, and she was satisfied that she could scarcely taste the nibble of liquor in them, something she'd been watchful about. The pleasantness of peach moved on her tongue as she roosted at the bar, tasting at her beverage joyfully.

“You might want to slow down there, sweetheart.” The voice was deep and rumbling, amusement coloring its tone as a large man moved to slide onto the stool beside her. “You don’t look like you frequent places like this, not if the way you’re drinking is any indication. That’ll hit you like a truck—it tastes good, but it’s dangerous as hell if you aren’t looking to get completely drunk.” The stranger hummed, chocolate eyes glittering with amusement.

The man was certainly older than her; that was the first thing Y/N noticed as hazy green eyes raked over him. Salt and pepper black and gray hair. At least 6 feet tall to her small-statured five foot five. A firm, chiseled jawline that looked like it could have been sculpted by a damned artist. Actually, the rest of him looked like it might have been too—the tight black t-shirt and denim jeans did nothing to hide broad shoulders and a muscular chest.

For a moment, her mouth damn near watered. God, he was handsome. How it was that the other women here weren’t flocking around him, she would never understand. But she certainly wasn’t going to complain, even if she made a face at him, sticking out her tongue. “Is it really that obvious? “

“Absurdly so. Might as well be written on your face.” He chuckled. “So, I know it’s cliché, but I gotta ask. What’s a pretty little thing like you doing all alone at the bar? It seems you should be with someone, dancing and having a good time.”

A giggle escaped her, covering her pink, freckled cheeks with a hand to hide it. “You’re right, that definitely was cliché. Lucky you, you’re right about me being new to all this, so I haven’t heard it a thousand times. I’m with my friend. She’s…” A vague wave of her hand towards the crowd of bodies. “Somewhere in there? She made a new “friend,” and they’re dancing. I just wanted another one of these,” she explained, holding up her drink. “And what about you? A handsome man like yourself, you didn’t come here with someone? What did little old me do to get attention?”

She immediately wanted to cringe and groan. Way to go, Y/N; that was definitely not smooth. He’s going to think you’re an idiot. And I mean, you came here looking for a good time. Well, here’s a guy way out of your league who might just be interested if you could play it cool for half a second.

The stranger laughed, a deep rumbling sound that reverberated through her almost as easily as the music did, the pink on her cheeks deepening. “Nah, I came alone. Name’s Heeseung. And when you’re done with that drink, I’d love to take you out on the floor for a dance, if you wanted mind.” He rolled his eyes, clearly amused. “Come on now, sweetheart. Surely you know how pretty you are, huh? I got eyes in my head. Was a little amazed you weren’t surrounded by men. Clear down the block.”

“Y/N.” She returned, offering her hand, before raising a brow. “Well, aren’t you a sweet talker? Hmmm. You know what they say, Heeseung, flattery will get you everywhere.” She teased, finishing up her drink before standing, wibbling only slightly. “A dance sounds great.”

He didn't hesitate to reach out and steady her, curling her hand within his much larger one as he led her towards the dance floor. “Well damn, it looks like a lucky night for chivalry.” He teased her back, drawing her against that broad chest as they began to sway. “So, Miss Y/N, what would you normally be doing on a night like tonight, if not being too pretty for words at a dingy bar?”

She couldn’t resist snorting in amusement, rolling her eyes up at him. “Silly. I’d typically be in my dorm studying, I suppose. I’m a student at the university. Biology major, nothing too interesting, I’m afraid.” A rueful smile settled on her lips, even as she melted into him, one arm draping around his neck. God, she felt so damned tiny against him, something deep and primal screaming at her about how safe and strong being in his arms felt. Yes, he was definitely perfect for her intended foray into adventure.

“Nothing too interesting, she says, like understanding science isn’t an incredible feat,” he shot back, a playful smile on his lips. “I ain’t anything so clever or fancy. I’m a firefighter. It is tough, dirty work, but it needs to be done. At the very least, I get to come home each night feeling like I’ve made some kind of difference,” he admitted, even as he drew her closer. “Have to admit, this isn’t my usual kind of scene either; the loud noise bothers me sometimes. But tonight? Well, damn, tonight I’m glad I came.”

“I’m glad I did too,” she admitted, her free hand settling on his chest. “Handsome and a firefighter? Gotta say, you’re ticking my boxes left and right here.” Y/N teased, leaning up on her toes to brush her lips along his jaw, the alcohol thrumming in her veins long since waving goodbye to any inhibitions she might have. He was strong, gorgeous, and seemingly kind. She wanted him to take her apart. She wasn’t even fully sure of what that meant, but God, her body knew on instinct alone that it had to be him.

“Glad to hear it, sweetheart.” He chuckled. “How many more boxes do you think it would take for me to check off before you let me kiss you?” Heeseung questioned, already cupping her jaw and guiding her gaze upwards to meet his own.

“Not even one.” It was all the warning she gave before she was leaning up on her toes, capturing his lips with her own. At least she knew how to do it—she’d kissed boys in high school and shared fleeting things with guys back home behind her family’s barn. Kissing Heeseung, though… It felt different and sent sparks of electricity rushing through her in a way the guys back home never had.

He didn't even question it. Immediately, he was drawing her closer, one hand sliding under her rear to lift her towards him as he leaned to meet her in kind. His tongue brushed along her lower lip, a silent bid for entry before he was pressing inside to taste her. Fuck, she tasted so sweet, like the peach and mango from the drink she had been sipping only moments before, with the slightest bite of vodka still on her tongue. He guided her slowly into the kiss and showed her how to move against him. He was all too happy to deepen it, to take the time to explore every inch of her, guiding her hips against his own from his hold on her. “Well, thank God, sweetheart.” He groaned against her lips. “Because I thought I was going to lose my mind if I didn’t get to do that soon.”

A soft moan escaped her, her”lips parting without hesitation as he deepened the kiss. It was as though she were running on autopilot, her body knowing exactly what it was that she was aching for, even if she herself didn’t, and it sought it out readily.

Why hadn’t she been allowing herself these delights sooner?

“Heeseung…” she mewled, her fingers tangling in raven locks and tugging as she melted into him, pressing against him more completely. “Please… It feels so good,” she admitted breathlessly, chasing his lips with her own the moment he drew back for breath, greedy for another. “If I asked really nicely, would you take me home and kiss me until I can’t think straight?” She questioned, her voice soft and needy. “Because I’d really like to be able to feel a little more than is appropriate for a dance floor in a dingy club.”

Heeseung raised a brow at her, her lips curving upward in amusement. Forward little thing, wasn’t she? “I think we can certainly arrange that, sweetheart. Why don’t we get your things? You can text your friend; I’ll even give you my address to give her so she knows your safe,” he offered, leaning down to nuzzle into her throat teasingly, suckling at smooth caramel skin until violet began to blossom beneath his touch. “Because frankly, I think I’d like to do a lot more than a dance floor allows for too.”

“Deal.” She agreed, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the coat check. A moment later, she was typing out a text to Gaeun with the details of where she’d be and not to worry, letting Heeseung draw her into his side all too contentedly. He was strong, he was warm, and he was broad. It was as though she fit perfectly against him, as though she had been made to be there.

“I called us a cab while you were texting your friend,” he told her, brushing a kiss on her head and waving down the taxi when it appeared.

Ten minutes later, he was helping her out of the car, leading her to the front step of a cozy-looking white house. She wobbled slightly on her feet, leaning against him for support, even as she clutched at his sleeve. Maybe he was right, and that last drink was a mistake, she mused, all too happy to let him guide her inside.

She wasted no time in pouncing, pressing his larger frame to the door with renewed fervor once it had closed, stealing his lips with her own in a greedy kiss. “Fuck….. can’t tell you how good kissing you feels.” She admitted, her arms winding around his neck, her body pressing against him once more. “Girl could get addicted if she’s not careful.”

Heeseung growled low against her lips, shifting them until her back pressed to the wall, legs under her thighs lifting her, and guiding her legs around his hips as he met each kiss in kind. “You’re one to talk, sweetheart. Such a sweet little thing, you have no idea.” His tongue once more invaded her mouth, taking control with ease, even as she rolled her hips against him feverishly, instinctively telling her to seek out the sweet friction she was missing out on currently. Her head felt hot; it felt like the world was spinning, like she was burning alive in the best way possible, like she couldn’t get a grip on anything.

Y/N woke up in a strange room, nestled down in a bed that was far too comfortable to be her dorm bed. The blankets were soft on her skin, and early morning light cast rays against the bottom of the bed as she sat up, rubbing at her eyes tiredly. Just what in the hell happened last night? Emerald eyes glanced down, widening in surprise. Okay, so the shirt she was in definitely wasn’t hers. For a moment, panic welled up inside of her, glancing around her surroundings frantically until she noticed what lay on the nightstand—a glass of water, two painkillers, and a note.

Morning Sweetheart;

First off, don’t worry. We didn’t go past kissing last night. That last drink of yours hit you pretty fast, and I wasn’t about to take advantage. Here are some painkillers. I imagine your head is hurting. Your clothes are washed and folded on the dresser. When you’re ready, come on downstairs, darlin’. I should have breakfast ready for you by then.

-Heeseung

All at once, it came rushing back to her. The loud, thudding music. She had strong hands on her and a broad waist beneath her legs. Lips met hers feverishly as she stole kiss after kiss. She had suddenly been dizzy and exhausted, barely even able to keep her eyes open. He’d carried her to his room, given her a shirt to wear, and tucked her in for the night.

Well, fuck, that was embarrassing! What was he going to think of her now that she had gotten too drunk off a few fruity drinks to even stay awake? Goddammit… There went her chance to get rid of that stupid virginity too. Gratefully, she reached for the pills and water, popping them back with ease, even as she made a promise to herself to never drink again. It wasn’t worth it if the way her head was feeling right now was anything to go by.

Y/N groaned, dragging a hand down her face and setting the cup back on the nightstand. Okay, time to evaluate—she had options here. She could get dressed, sneak downstairs, and pretend like nothing had ever happened. Or she could stay burrowed in his shirt, go down to see what the breakfast he’d mentioned was, and see if he’d still let her try again. If she were being honest with herself, she would have preferred the second option. He was handsome, kind, and apparently caring enough to tuck a strange girl in his bed because she’d drank too much. She definitely wanted her first time to be with him.

Well. That settled it, then.

She slid out of bed, moving towards the dresser mirror long enough to run her fingers through her hair, making sure crimson curls at least looked presentable before padding down the hallway and a large staircase. The scent of bacon and eggs hit her immediately, making her mouth water as she followed it to where she presumed the kitchen to be. Silently, she walked up behind him, sliding slender arms around his waist from behind, burying her face in the broad expanse of uncovered, muscled back.

“Well, good morning to you too, baby.” He chuckled, glancing over his shoulder at her. “I’m guessing you found the note and painkillers, huh? Poor baby, I bet your head is pounding. Go sit down and get comfy. Breakfast just needs to be plated up. Bacon and eggs will get rid of any hangover you might have, I promise.”

Y/N found herself reluctant to let go, brushing a soft kiss between his shoulder blades before forcing herself to take a step back. “I did. Thank you so much for that, by the way. I’m so sorry I fell asleep; you must think me such an idiot.” She groaned, dragging a tired hand down her face, even as she obediently perched in one of the kitchen chairs. “I promise, I really did want to come home with you. I wanted you. Want you.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that we’re at least still on the same page, princess.” He hummed, plating up her food and setting it in front of her, kissing her head tenderly before taking a seat opposite the girl. “Nah, I don’t think you’re an idiot. You already told me it was your first time out like that. I’m guessing it was your first time drinking too?” A little laugh escaped him at the glum nod of her head, the crimson dancing along freckled caramel cheeks. “It’s alright, baby. You eat up, and if you still want me after you have some food in your stomach, well…The corner of his lips tilted upwards in an amused little smirk. “I’m sure we can figure out what to do about that.”

She paused, her emerald eyes widening and her hand pausing with the fork mid-air as her gaze shot up to meet his. “Really? Even after all that, you still want me?” She questioned, shy hesitation creeping into her voice.

“Mmm. Maybe you just look too good in my shirt, sweetheart. Maybe I haven’t been able to stop thinking about kissing you, feeling you under my hands. Maybe I dreamed about how pretty you’d look coming undone.” Heeseung hummed calmly, as though the admission were nothing at all, though mischief twinkled in his eyes as he lifted his coffee mug to his lips, taking a long sip. “First things first, though. Eat. I promise it’ll make you feel much better.” He cajoled softly.

“Alright, alright.” She agreed, though the crimson on her cheeks remained. Admittedly….. The bacon and eggs looked and smelled utterly delicious. And when she had finished moments later, she had to admit it was already helping her feel a little bit better, her migraine finally beginning to let up.

Y/N paused for a moment before she was sliding out of her seat, padding around the table to slip onto his lap, straddling him carefully, and draping her arms around her neck. Was it far bolder than she normally was? Yes, but God, she ached for this man. Had been aching. “I should probably warn you,” she admitted, even as she instinctively rolled her hips down against him. “I’ve never done this before, so I may not know exactly what I’m doing.”

A low groan escaped him as she rocked against him, the shirt doing little to act as a barrier between them. “Hey, that’s completely okay, sweetheart. I know more than enough for both of us, okay? All I need you to do is tell me if anything is too much.” He dipped his head, lips brushing along her throat, leaving a scatter of dark marks in their wake. God, she looked beautiful with his marks, and he couldn't help but commit each little mewl that fell from her lips to memory.

“Tell you what, baby. Why don’t we start nice and easy, huh? I’ll pick you up, real safe and sound, and carry you upstairs. We can take a nice, hot shower together. I’ll kiss the ever-loving hell out of you and get you feeling nice and relaxed for me, hmm? I promise, I’ll take such good care of you.” He kissed his way back up her jaw, cupping her face as he stole her lips with his own. He could get drunk off kissing her; he knew he could.

“Fuck…” she moaned, tipping her head to grant him access to her throat, her fingers tangling in dark locks and clutching on tightly. “Heeseung, please~! “She mewled, unsure of what exactly it was she was asking for. All she knew was that she needed more, needed everything this man could show her, could give her. It was as though some deep, primal part of her had now awoken and was aching only for him.

She met the kiss in kind, heat pooling once more in her stomach, blinding and hot as it coiled and uncoiled, slick already pooling between her thighs, dampening the soft lace that lay between her legs. Even though this had her delirious from pleasure, how much better would it be when she had him touching her? “Shower sounds good.” She agreed breathlessly. “God, yeah, I want that. I want you to touch me so badly. I want you to teach me. Please, Heeseung? ”

“How on earth can I say no to that?” He picked her up with ease, guiding her legs back around his hips as he made quick work of carrying her up to the bathroom, settling her onto the counter with another feverish kiss. “Good girl. Not much longer now, I promise I’ll give you everything you need. Just be a good girl and wait just a moment longer for me.” He ordered softly, reluctantly drawing back. He set to work, turning on the shower, adjusting the temperature until it was just right before kicking off his own sleep pants and turning back to her.

Her mouth goddamn near watered at the sight of him. Firm, muscled thighs to match the rest of him, and… Oh God, he was already so hard. Surely not all of that would be able to fit inside of her! She took a breath, licking her lips in anticipation, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him just yet.

“Come here, beautiful,” he cajoled, helping her back off the counter before his fingers hooked in the hem of his shirt, tugging soft cotton up and over her head. “So gorgeous. You make me want to absolutely ravish you, baby. Cover you in my marks so no man can touch you but me.” A low, possessive growl escaped him as he drew her close, dipping his head to nip along her collarbone, even as his once large, calloused hand lifted to gently cradle her breast. “So perfect for me, I bet you’ll be an angel coming undone.”

A moan left her as his thumb brushed along her nipple teasingly, pressing her hips against him. The feeling of his cock pressing against her was all at once terrifying and thrilling. Shy fingers moved until they could slide between their bodies, curling around him curiously.

Heeseung couldn’t help but moan, tipping his head against her shoulder and nipping at the soft caramel skin once more. “Fuck….. feels good, baby.” Reluctantly, he drew away from her, kissing her head. “Into the shower, sweetheart. I promise I’ll keep touching you, but at this rate, we’ll never make it in.”

His fingers hooked In the hem of her pants, letting them slide down her thighs, before he caught her hand in his own, guiding her under the hot spray carefully, just to step in behind her. It was no hard task to tug her back to his chest, running his hands smoothly over her skin beneath the hot spray. One hand cupped a supple breast once more, the other sneaking it’s way down over her stomach. “Remember, if anything doesn’t feel good, I need you to tell me, okay? ”

The hand continued Its journey downward, drawing needy whines and mewls from her lips as they slid between her thighs, stroking over slick folds. “You’re already so hot and wet for me, aren’t you, Y/N? ”He groaned, the digits easing inside to stroke over the delicate little nub above her entrance, teasing it with skillful little twists of his fingertips against her.

Oh. Oh, that felt incredible. Her eyes widened, a sharp and needy whine escaping her lips as she leaned back into him, her hips rocking into his touch. “Heeseung, please! “Y/N gasped, reaching out to clutch at the wall for purchase. “Oh God, don’t stop, please.”

It was unlike anything she had ever felt before—hot and sharp, the heat in her stomach coiling even tighter as his fingers slid lower, two easing inside. Her legs trembled, weak in the knees, as he wrapped a strong arm around her waist to steady her.

There’s a good girl… Fuck, you feel so hot and tight around my fingers, sweetheart. I bet you’ll feel even better around my cock.” He crooned, his voice a husky rumble in her ear before his lips were once again finding her throat. It was as though he couldn’t get enough—something deep and possessive urging him to leave more and more marks until it would be impossible to miss them.

God, he ached to bury himself in her right now. But he had to be patient. He wanted her to be nice and relaxed for him, and he wanted her first time to be good to her. It was something special she was offering up to him, and he would be damned if he wasted that. “Come on, sweetheart.” He moaned low against her throat, beginning to thrust the digits into her. It wouldn’t take much, he imagined, if no one had touched her this way, and he wanted to watch her fall apart on his fingers before he took her to his bed.

Heat bubbled within her, blindingly hot and dizzying, as she rocked into his touch, desperate to meet each thrust of his fingers in kind. It felt strange; it felt foreign, but it felt amazing. Even just the two digits stretched her open more than she’d ever had before, and when he curled his fingertips to drag along slick walls, she swore she’d seen stars.

He was definitely the right choice.

A moment later, she found herself tipping over the edge, unable to hold back, as her first orgasm hit her hard and fast. “Heeseung!” The cry was sharp, bouncing off the tiled walls to echo through the room as he continued rocking the digits within her, helping her ride out her high.

“Good girl. That’s my good girl,” he praised, slowly pulling the digits out. He chuckled at her whine, kissing the top of her head. “I know. I know, sweetheart. But I don’t think my fingers are enough, huh? So I’m going to pick you up and carry you to my bed. I’m going to lay you out pretty beneath me, and I’m going to make sure you scream.

He turned her carefully, scooping her up bridal style, stealing kiss after feverish kiss as he stepped out of the shower, careful not to slip. He didn’t care that they were both soaked; the sheets would dry. No, all that mattered right now was burying himself in her, making this pretty little thing his.

Y/N clutched on tightly as she was carried, brushing soft, needy kisses and nips to his neck and shoulders as he held her close. All her inhibitions and nerves melted away into nothing—no, there was only this handsome man and his skillful touch. She had no idea that it could be like this, and it was dizzying how badly she wanted more.

Heeseung laid her out gently, guiding her legs apart before moving between them and stealing her lips in a feverish kiss. He wasted no time—no, he needed her now. His hand gripped himself tight as he guided his aching cock against her folds, sinking home in one firm thrust, burying himself to the hilt within her.

Her moan was lost against his lips, her sharp gasp swallowed down as his tongue once more invaded her mouth, exploring every crevice it could, claiming it as his own as his cock did the same. It was overwhelming, but not bad. She felt so damn full. The stretch burned just a little, but that did nothing to diminish her desire. If anything, it left her feeling even more sensitive, with her arms draping around his neck and her legs hooking around his waist.

“Heeseung… fuck fuck fuck, please!”

It seemed as though he needed to be told twice. His hands cupped her hips and slid under her rear as he began to set a fast, hard pace, using his grip on her to guide her up into each rough, unforgiving thrust. “Fuck baby, you feel so good. All mine now; you know that, don’t you? I’m going to fill you up, sweetheart; I’m going to fill you up with my cum; I’m going to claim you inside and out.” He was unsure where the words came from; he’d never been the possessive type, but something about her drove him wild. She was just so damn perfect for him. “Going to breed you, baby, going to fill you so good your stomach swells, so good everyone knows you’re off limits.”

She didn’t know why the idea of that got to her the way it did. She’d never been interested in even the idea of having kids, and the notion of actually being kept had always been more viewed as a hindrance to her schooling and her future career plans. And yet, the thought of her stomach swelling up with his child and of him actually wanting to keep her was even more intoxicating to her.

“Do it!” She mewled, her fingers tangling in his hair, drawing him back in for another desperate kiss. “Please, fuck, I want that so badly, Heeseung. I want everyone to know I’m yours! God, I need it, I need to be full, please, please, please. I’ll be so good for you, please.”

It was as though he had awakened something deep within her and left her wanting for him alone. Each sharp, hard thrust stole her breath and had her gasping and mewling as she writhed beneath him, unable to do much more than simply hang on for the ride.

“I’m so close, baby girl. Just a little more, and I’ll fill you up.” He promised, kissing her over and over again. If he had his way, he was never letting her go. She was his now, and he’d do everything in his power to convince her to stay. One last sharp, and he was spilling himself inside of her with a sharp growl, stealing her lips in one last domineering kiss as he pressed deep, let his seed fill her completely.

Her body tightened around him, as though trying to milk him for everything he had, the feeling of hot liquid rushing inside of her sending her over the edge once more. Her fingers found his back, her nails clawing and scratching as she scrabbled for purchase to ride out her moans and sobs of delight escaping her lips.

He fucked her through It hard before finally falling beside her, rolling them until he was comfortably on his back, drawing her to lay atop him in a way that let him stay buried in that slick heat, dragging a comforter up over them.

“Feeling good, baby?” he questioned, carding a gentle hand through her hair even as she snuggled all too contentedly into him. God, she was cute…

“So good,” she agreed, her voice breathless and sleepy as she nuzzled into his chest. “Did you really mean it? About keeping me? ”

“I did,” Heeseung promised, surprised to find just how much he meant that. “I know it might be a little bit backwards considering… but I’d really like to try this with you, sweetheart. I hate the idea of you leaving my arms, of you being too far away. Is that alright, baby? I know you have your studies, and I have work, and both those things can be a little crazy. But if you let me, I promise I’ll do such a good job taking care of you.”

“I…” She hesitated for only a moment, biting her lip nervously. It was supposed to only be a one-night stand, just her taking control to lose her virginity and shut up her friends. But if this handsome, strong man who made her feel so fucking good and so incredibly safe actually wanted her… Who was she to say no?

“Alright,” she agreed softly, brushing kisses along his collarbone sleepily. “I can’t promise I’ll be any good at this; I haven’t really dated very much, and school has always been my priority. But if you really want to try this, we can try.” Y/N agreed, her eyes heavy.

Heeseung couldn’t help a fond chuckle, her hand sliding to caress her back sweetly beneath the blanket. She was so damn cute. “There’s my good girl. I’ll help you learn, okay? We’ll figure it out together as we go. Poor little honey, I think that second orgasm really hit you hard. Why don’t you get some sleep, sweetheart? We can figure it all out when…” He paused, glancing down at her. Her eyes were closed, her breathing steady, and her fingers curled against his chest. “Huh. Guess I didn’t need to do much coaxing there.” He murmured to himself, rolling his eyes in amusement.

Content that she was safe and happy, he let his own eyes grow heavy, joining her in sleep a moment later.

#lee heeseung #lee heesung x reader #heeseung smut #enhypen smut #lee heeseung smut #18+ mdni

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newtthetranswriter · 8 days

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Hello you!

Could I request Nozel x male reader where the reader is a fae prince who falls in love with Nozel while he's training and Nozel keeps finding little fae gifts for him on his window and one day in the forest finds reader who is all handsome and charming and they fall in love

Word count: 2432

Paring: Nozel x Fae Male Reader

Warnings: ummmm my shitty knowledge of fae and probably inaccurate descriptions of how things work with them, also possible ooc Nozel

A/n: Hello, thank you so much for requesting. I truly enjoy writing and knowing that someone wants to read what I write makes it so much easier to write something. Also this was specifically really fun to right. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this and as always remember to hydrate or diedrate.

Wondering the forests of the Clover Kingdom was a regular part of Y/n’s week. Enjoying the relaxing sounds of nature and helping small animals find food. It’s what he enjoyed doing most and it gave him a chance to escape from the pressures of being the prince of the Fae. Y/n also enjoyed venturing into the castle town and mingling with the humans. Learning about their daily lives and workings of their culture. If he had to pick he’d probably say he was most intrigued by the Magic Knights, a group of powerful mages working to protect the Kingdom.

After a few weeks of talking with random Knights and citizen’s Y/n wanted to see the magic of one of the fabled Grand Magic Knights or as he learned they were mostly called Squad Captains. Try as he might he couldn’t get any of the lower ranking Knights he spoke with to take him to their headquarters to meet with any of the Captains so he settled for hoping to stumble across one while out exploring the Kingdom. And to his luck on one of his many trips into the forest he heard a sound distinctly not that of nature.

�� A loud shout could be heard followed by the sounds of something hitting a tree. Moving slowly and quietly to get a look at the person without alerting them of his presence. Y/n eventually reached the edge of a small clearing and ducked behind one of the trees. At the opposite side of the clearing stood a man with Silver hair wearing what looked like a Magic knight’s robe but fancier, Y/n could also see that the man’s grimoire was raised and had silverish shine to it. Curious about what was happening, he stayed quiet and moved to climb the tree hoping to get a better view of the Magic Knight as he trained.

Y/n watched as the mage struck a tree with silver fluid like magic, he could barely hear the man call it Mercury magic. One of the things Y/n loved most was seeing new magics, most faes had magic that had to do with plants, water or rocks, while humans had developed new and intriguing magics like this fluid metal magic he was watching. Too caught up in his thoughts he failed to notice one of the branches he was holding had bent enough to crack right as the forest had gone silent.

Hearing the branch snap, Y/n held his breath and backed close to the body of the tree. He wasn’t afraid of the mage, more he was embarrassed at possibly having been found watching him train. Well that or his breath was stolen from the sight of bright purple eyes looking in his direction, though all they could see was the thick forest on the edge of the clearing and not the fae that had snapped a branch. The tense silence lasted only a moment before a noise was heard from the Knights robe. Y/n watched as the Knight pulled out a device and spoke into it, before summoning a large amount of his mercury magic to form a large eagle and fly out of the forest.

Letting out the breath he had been holding Y/n decided he needed to know who that mage was where he could find him again. And so he headed into the capital and asked about the Magic Knight with Silver hair and magic. He quickly learned that the mage he had found training was none other than Captain of the Silver Eagles, Nozel Silva. Before learning that the mage was a captain Y/n had been planning to find and talk to him, but after learning that the mage was not only a captain but part of the human royal family, Y/n decided to settle for watching from afar.

Y/n took the time to find the headquarters of the Silver Eagles squad and which window belonged to the Silver haired captain before he set to leaving the handsome mage gifts. Every few days or so he would leave a new trinket he had found that made him think of the mage. Things like an amethyst carved to look like a leaf on a silver chain, the leaf was a representation of Y/n himself while the gemstone reminded him of the purple eyes that stole his breath. He even left a small silver eagle on the window sill as he thought it was a sweet little nod to the mages magic.

P.o.V Switch to Nozel Plus mini timeskip

It had been happening for a few months now, whenever Nozel would enter his office at the Silver eagles Headquarters he would find different trinkets just on his windowsill with no explanation on how it got there. He had tried asking many of his squad members to see if one of them had been leaving the items but they all just looked confused and made some snide comment before walking away from the Royal. Solid and Nebra were no different, making jokes about how their brother has a secret admirer and poking fun.

Even though the gifts were a surprise at first they became a part of his routine and Nozel found himself looking forward to what his mysterious visitor had left him this time. While he knew nothing of the gifter he guessed that whoever it was may have some connection to nature as many of the trinkets held imagery of plants or rocks, such as a gemstone carved to look like a leaf attached to a silver chain. Nozel also figured whoever they were, they were familiar with his magic as he once found a small silver eagle statue.

While he loved the gifts and looked forward to them, he wished to know who was leaving him gifts so he could thank them for their kindness. Don’t get him wrong he had left notes on the windowsill hoping whoever it was would see and respond or come forward but each note was left unanswered but accompanied by another gift.

After a stressful week of dealing with Captain meetings, and his siblings nonstop jokes about the woman leaving him gifts, Nozel decided to take a walk in the forest near the capital. He had recently decided there was something super relaxing about the sound of wind flowing through the trees and animals moving about their lives without a worry. Now, Nozel prides himself on being able to sense mana but it seems even he can be surprised.

Walking into the same clearing he had been training in a few months prior, Nozel did not expect to see a man about his age sitting with a few animals in his lap while seemingly having a conversation with them. Not wanting to deal with what he assumed was a crazy person, the royal turned to walk the other direction. Only he failed to see the branch at his feet that snapped with a crack that rivaled a building collapsing, alerting the stranger to his presence.

Deciding he had been caught the royal spoke to dismiss himself without being rude, though he was normally brash, he felt the need to be kind to this person. “I’m sorry to disturb you, I was just out for a stroll. I’ll leave you to do what you were doing.” With that Nozel started to turn away ready to leave.

P.o.V back to Y/n

Being startled by the animals in the clearing scampering off at the sound of a branch snapping, Y/n turned to the source of the noise. For a second time in this little clearing he had his breath ripped from his chest as he met amethyst eyes. Not registering that the man had tried to excuse himself Y/n decided to finally take the next step. “Would you like to join me?” The words left both the fae and the royal slightly confused. The fae was confused because why would Nozel just agree to sit in a clearing with some guy he just found here, and the royal was confused because what was this stranger asking him to do.

The Silver haired man stopped in his tracks and thought for a moment, his logical side said to just keep walking and pretend nothing happened but something he couldn’t quite put a finger on was telling him that this stranger was important to him in some way. Before he could respond though the y/h/c man spoke again. “I just mean, you look like you could use someone to talk to and I’m good at listening and will be an unbiased audience.” The Royal sighed before deciding that it wouldn’t hurt to talk with the stranger, after all he didn’t need to give deep detail and he likely wouldn’t see him again. With a flick of his robes Nozel moved to sit near the stranger.

“I suppose you are right, I could use someone to talk to.” Nozel spoke, letting his guard down even though he had no clue why this person made him feel so calm.

Y/n smiled, feeling happy to have finally started speaking to the man he had been admiring for the past few months. “I’m Y/n by the way, you don’t have to share your name if you don’t wish to. I just think it would be easier if you knew who you were speaking with.”He introduced trying to make the Mercury mag as comfortable as possible.

Nozel nodded before explaining how he was feeling slightly overwhelmed with his siblings teasing and the added pressure of his youngest sibling getting her grimoire soon. He spoke of how he didn’t want her to join the magic knights to keep her safe but also didn’t want to keep being a complete dick and make her feel excluded anymore. He was unsure of why he was being so open, he was just glad he could get all of this off his chest.

Y/n just listened to Nozel talk about his current struggles, how he wished to have been stronger in order to not have pushed Noelle away or have been able to stop Solid and Nebra’s bullying of their sister. While Nozel couldn’t give all the details he spoke of his fears and worries. After a few what felt like hours of opening up that had only been about twenty minutes, Nozel paused.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this. The main reason I came out here was to get away from my siblings teasing over a secret admirer I have, and now I’m telling a stranger some of my deepest worries.” Nozel stated, his voice portraying that he was perplexed.

The fae next to him chuckled slightly before smiling at him. “Sorry, I don’t mean to laugh, but it’s likely my fault. You see, I’ve been leaving the gifts for you and since you have been accepting them we have a strange sort of connection.” Y/n began to explain, earning a shocked look from Nozel. “It has to do with me being a fae, well prince of the fae but that’s not important. Anyway, by accepting my gifts, you opened your heart to me. It’s nothing bad, it just means that I can influence your feelings in little ways, such as making you feel comfortable with a stranger or relaxed enough to express your worries you would otherwise keep to yourself.”

“So you’re controlling me because I kept a necklace you left on the windowsill.” Nozel voiced his assumption.

Shaking his head Y/n spoke again. “I’m not controlling anything, being around a fae that you’ve accepted gifts from relaxes you. It’s not something I chose to do, it’s just a side effect of my affection for you. Think of it like this, when I’m in the forest I feel relaxed and calm enough to speak to you, because I’ve accepted all the gifts the forest gives me, but when I’m in the city and see a trinket I think you’ll like I freeze up, and the only way i can confidently gift it to you is by placing it on your window sill.” Nozel was confused but he was starting to understand.

The influence of the gifts from the Fae was similar to what he had heard being with your true love feels like. He didn’t want to call it that but he did feel like his heart was full just being in this clearing with Y/n.

Silence enveloped the two of them for a moment. Y/n was the one to break the silence. “I’ll stop the gifts if you’d like, I know it probably seems like I'm forcing the connection but it’s in my nature to give gifts to the one I admire.” Y/n turned away slightly having realized it may seem a bit intrusive to humans for someone to give you gifts and you unknowingly opening up to them.

“Don’t stop the gifts, I truly enjoy them. Do I wish you had spoken to me first before you started courting me in such a way? Yes but I can’t fault you for acting on your instincts.” Nozel spoke and somehow he knew this was truly how he felt and not just the connection he had with the Fae. “Maybe in return for the many gifts you have so graciously provided I can take you out for dinner and I can learn more about you?” He asked, noticing the smile that had formed on Y/n’s face.

“I’d enjoy that very much, thank you.” Y/n responded, holding back the joy of not having to stop showering Nozel in his affections.

Before either of them could speak again, a sound similar to that of what pulled Nozel from his training when Y/n first encountered him, sounded from Nozel’s robe. The silver haired captain pulled the magic communication device from his pocket, frowning. With a sigh he stood up. “Well this is where I bid farewell for now Y/n. I look forward to seeing you again, I’ll leave a note with details for the dinner on the windowsill.” After receiving a nod in response from the fae still seated in the grass, Nozel summoned his silver eagle and made his way back to the capital.

After Nozel’s departure, y/n stayed in the clearing enjoying how smoothly revealing himself had gone, and looking forward to seeing where this relationship would go.

#x reader #black clover x reader #nozel x reader #nozel silva x reader #nozel x male reader #black clover x male reader #answering requests #newt writes

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