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yxami · 9 months

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Fighting the urge to not write a quiet hybrid guy and I failed

description: yandere octopus hybrid x gn merperson reader, getting trapped in his trap, him tasting you, umm idk what else, also normally I stick to facts about the animals I write as hybrids but I changed some stuff about him like his tongue being soft bc would it be hot if a sandpaper tongue was licking u? LMAOO

Kioshi was a sea creature, an octopus and you’re just a random merperson who happened to run into his sticky trap that was intended for prey. So he’s just scanning you at every angle available to him, swiftly swimming around to see if you were going to be a problem to deal with.

He never really interacted with any merfolk before so your silent empty stare confused him enough to mentally ask himself questions. Was he supposed to let you out? Could he eat you? Were you tasty?

The curious octopus wrapped his arms around you, the suckers on his tentacles staying in one place with the grip they had on your body. Was he tasting you?? What was this weird octopus guy doing!!

“Hello?? What are you doing” You glared at his tentacles that sneaked their way through his own kelp trap to touch and stick on you. It was almost like he was trying to sample you, to see if you could be his dinner tonight.

He quietly hummed, pondering if you were even edible. You tasted.. fishy. It would be ironic for merfolk not to have a salty taste to them. What did he expect after all? The two of you were in the ocean for crying out loud!

“You taste weird, can you even fit in my mouth” Kioshi opened his mouth, his fangs and 2 rows of teeth showing brightly. The vibrant pink tongue that slipped out his mouth looked long and soft. He apparently had no shame in showing his interest to eat you.

“I’m a merperson! And no you can’t eat me! I wouldn’t go up to you and ask if I could eat you” The hiss that left your lips and confidence had him more intrigued than before.

He disassembled his kelp trap with a tug of one of the kelp that wrapped around a nearby giant rock. Once you were let free you stretched, liking how much freedom you had now. It almost pissed you off remembering that you were in there for the entirety of this conversation.

“I’ll give you some shiny pearls if you keep letting me taste you” Kioshi dug in a pouch he carried around his waist, scooping out a few beautiful pink pearls that made your eyes shimmer with adoration. You were always a sucker for pretty things, every merperson was!

“Fine” You mumbled, sitting on a rock, your soft hands holding onto it as a handle while he wrapped his tentacles around you. He wasn’t sure why he was so interested in you, yeah he doesn’t see merfolk often but you peaked his interest for another reason. One that he was clueless about as well.

But he doesn’t try to fret over it, when he likes something, he takes it for himself. And you were pretty, really pretty. Your scales provided a glistening view, the sun helping accentuate the natural shine they had. Each scale was shiny and bright, he loved shiny things. Maybe you were meant to be his little treasure to take home!

You obediently sat while he seemed lost in thought, wrapping his sneaky tentacles around you, every sucker providing a squishy suction on your skin, almost felt like kisses running along your torso and arms. You could even feel his breath on your neck while he seemed to taste you there with his mouth. You pondered whether he would leave marks or not.

“You taste nice” Kioshi murmured, causing marks around your waist and chest.

“Well there’s that answer” You mentally said to yourself, looking down at the almost identical looking hickey marks on your body after his tentacles slipped away. He must’ve been too focused on tasting you to be gentle.

“Sorry..” He whispered, putting his tongue against your stomach’s skin to lick at the marks. You jumped at the feeling with a flustered expression, his hands rested around your hips while he continued.

“I think they’ll fade on their own.. You don’t have to lick them!” You bit your lip, trying to hold in the whimper you were about to let out from the strange sensation of his tongue running along your stomach.

“Oh.. okay. I’ll pay attention more next time” He blinked with no embarrassment that he shamelessly licked and tasted your skin. He sat next to you, leaning against your side, watching fish run around and play.

Next time? There was going to be a next time? You thought to yourself, wondering why he was so confident yet so nonchalant with his words that it just seemed natural to slip from his lips.

Kioshi pondered, trying to think of something else to say. He didn’t want to end the conversation here, he liked this interaction, even if it was just a trade between the two of you. Your flustered reactions and looks made him smile when you weren’t looking. He liked you already.

“So, I’ve never seen you here. Are you just passing through this area?” He faced you, observing your deep colored eyes compared to the bright waters around the two of you.

“Nah, I live around here, I just don’t usually wander off too far from my cave” You explained as you stared at his veiny hands that pressed down against the smooth rock. He seemed interested enough in your words to lean closer, his eyes scanning yours and especially at your lips.

“Huh, that’s cool” He softly said, wanting to say more but unsure of what. Should he ask if he could visit you sometime? Maybe offer to show you his cave? He wanted to ask something but his mind couldn’t set on a thought, causing you to speak after a few moments.

“So, what about you? Where do you live?” You yawned, making sure you weren’t out too late by looking at the sun that was close to set. It would be bad if you were out when the moon was down. You never got used to all the creatures that would appear in the dark waves that strolled by. It gave you goosebumps just thinking of the strange faces.

“Right over there, I don’t set my trap up too far incase it’s something big” Kioshi let out a small giggle, the fact you were in his trap today and definitely bigger than the average fish he expected made it more funny.

“Must’ve lucked out today then huh?” You playfully rolled your eyes at him laughing at his words.

“Mhm” He grinned, adding in a nod as well while he spoke. “How about I treat you to some food since I captured you?” He casually offered, as if he wasn’t trying to rack his brain about how to word it before. He wasn’t that good with speaking with others, never really interacted with other creatures in the first place, until now!

“Sure, you totally owe me after-all” You smiled, hopping off the rock to swim in-front of him. He got off the almost cliff looking rock as well and started leading you to his place. Not that far, just like he said. When the two of you closed the distance between his home you observed how nicely decorated it was. Lots of shiny things in a wooden chest he had, a soft looking bed and cute trinkets placed along the walls. It was big so the fact that he filled it up nicely was impressing.

“How about some crab?” He said, poking at the live crabs he had in another slightly different trap, the knots and twists being almost identical to the one you were in. He seemed to use traps to catch all his food instead of chasing it himself.

“Sure! How are you gonna cook it?” You asked curious, swimming around him in circles to see what he was doing. You were able to witness him grabbing the trap brimming with crabs and bringing them up to the end of the cave, there you were able to see that the roof went further up. He seemed to almost disappear after climbing up onto something.

You popped your head up the water to see this was his kitchen area, it had pots and pans hanging on hooks and a small dinner table with a few seats. His place was bigger than you imagined, it had an area with no water that connected to the ocean after-all.

“Gonna boil them?” You looked curiously at him grabbing a pot and sliding over back to the large opening in the floor to the rest of his home, collecting ocean water in it. “Yup” Kioshi softly said, putting the pot down on a metal grill. He seemed to have lots of kitchen supplies, it made your curious to whether he stole it from humans.

You had your own little collection stolen from humans but definitely not a entire room’s worth, not yet anyways. You were curious enough to want to ask Kioshi more questions about him, but decided not to.

The boiled crabs poured into a glass bowl in-front of you made you drool almost instinctively, as if you’ve always known his cooking. You stared at the bowl first, noticing that it was expensive looking and had cracks, he must’ve glued it back together.

He sat down in front of you, pondering on why you were staring at the bowl instead of the cooked crabs you could be eating, was it not appetizing? Should he cook something else? He twiddled his thumbs against each other while trying to think of whether he should speak up.

Kioshi opened his mouth to speak but you paused the words from leaving his mouth with a happy hum. “It’s so good!!!” You muffled with crab meat in your mouth, once you managed to chew and swallow a few more pieces.

“Thanks Kioshi! You’re so good at cooking” You cleared your throat, looking up at him with another opened crab leg.

“No problem” He mumbled, feeling his face heat up. He wasn’t sure why he had the sudden urge to keep you in his cave forever, for you to become his mate and be devoted to him as he would with you. Maybe it was because he didn’t have one yet, or possibly because you were perfect for him.

He’d find a way to keep you here, whether that would be pearls, his cooking, or anything he could possibly steal from humans, he’d do it.

#yandere #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #male yandere #pls request #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #gn reader #soft yandere #gender neutral reader #yandere hybrid #yandere octopus hybrid #yandere octopus #octopus hybrid #yandere oc #yandere ocs #hybrid reader #reader merfolk hybrid

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violetpixiedust · 2 months

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thinking about spending a day at the beach with your bf jj and the rest of the pogues. ♡

18+. afab reader. no description of appearance. fluff/smut. use of ‘papa’ once, mentions of spanking. shy!kook!reader x dom!jj.

in between searching for the cross, evading the law, and intense fights with the kooks, a beach day was certainly a nice escape from an otherwise hectic lifestyle.

the sand is warm and pale beneath your knees as you sit in your cute little bikini beside jj’s damp body. he’s laid along a ratty old towel, littered with a few holes and fraying at the edges. beads of saltwater meld themselves within his tan skin from his previous surfing exertion, eager to soak up the sunlight with you now that he’s gotten his adrenaline fix. you had been searching for seashells and sea glass with kiara while the boys were out on the water. ending up with a good sized pouch by the time your boyfriend ran up to meet you on the shore, shaking out his soaking dirty blonde locks at you like a dog. squeals and joyful giggles left your lipgloss coated pout, strumming alongside the seagulls.

absentmindedly, you hum when your manicured nails sort through your small treasures, careful not to let them get lost in the never ending sand. it isn’t until you notice your boyfriend’s baritone voice humming alongside you that you burst into giggles. you meet his sea-foam blue eyes from where they peak out above his black sunglasses, frames falling to the bridge of his lightly freckled nose. one of your pearly teeth reach out to bite along your plush bottom lip, shyly taking in the handsome sight of jj laid beside you.

damp swim trunks hang low on his paler hips, golden happy trail leading you up to the toothpick balancing between his freshly licked lips. the pogue grins slyly in amusement, satisfaction at your sudden shyness running through his veins like the sweetest high. “c’mere, princess. up.” you don’t have time to check for the whereabouts of your friends before the large palm of jj’s hand crudely reaches underneath your thigh, skin burning as he leads you to straddle his torso. you briefly hear pope gagging and john b’s amused laughter behind you, but ultimately choose to ignore them when jj’s calloused fingertips reach out to play with the hem of your swimsuit, effectively distracting you. “‘gonna show me those pretty little rocks takin’ up all of your attention now?”

you nod with a soft smile, shyly avoiding jj’s heady gaze for a moment, unknowing to the way his expression softens incredibly at the sweetness emitting from you. floaty and radiant, like his own personal angel. his calloused thumbs rub soothing circles along your hips as he watches you begin to explain each piece of sea glass you chose, head feeling as if it were underwater still with how gorgeous you are. his ringed fingers faintly shake when he thinks about how undeserving he is for someone like you. an angel from figure eight. outer banks pride and joy. who used to send him a shy little wave at the boneyard, eyelashes fluttering when he would wave back, his split lip pulling up into a smirk at the dazed look that overtook you. the girl who now jumped onto the back of his bike in boarder-line scandalous mini skirts, sweet and powdery perfume clouding the pogue’s judgement for a second too long. until your freshly done nails would dig into his waist, melodic voice urging your pogue boyfriend to hurry up and drive. the overprotective housekeeper would attempt to chase after the two of you with a broom in her wrinkled hand, before being buried by the dust billowing beneath the bike’s spinning wheels every single time.

it isn’t until you hold up a few pieces of sea glass to the side of his face with a cheer of excitement that he tunes back in. “mm, what’s the squealing for, cupcake?”

“i found a piece that looks like your eyes. see!” you bend over to get a closer look at the comparison, completely unaware of the way your tits push up together near jj’s face. a shaky breath leaves your boyfriend’s bitten lips, his suddenly rosy cheeks startling you for a moment before you feel the noticeable shift of his hips beneath you. instead of gasping cutely and sitting up like jj expected you to, your moment of realization morphs into a sly expression.

and jj knew that look.

“don’t-“ you riskily pay no mind to your boyfriend’s warning tone, “innocently” slinking back along his body with a soprano sigh. your manicured nails rake over his abdomen on your path backwards, cupped heat just brushing past the now obvious tent in jj’s swim trunks-

instantly, the pogue manhandles you into place. you squeak at the firmness of his ringed grip, heart pumping with adrenaline when his sun kissed hands force your back against his warm chest in record speed. shark tooth necklace digging between your shoulder blades. your bum pushes against jj’s erection with a final maneuver- now out of sight, but still painfully hard against you.

“whoa. chill out, mike tyson-“ john b drunkly remarks with a surprised laugh before sipping on his nearly finished can of pbr, blissfully unaware of the previous situation. meanwhile, sarah smirks knowingly at the two of you from beside her aloof boyfriend, meeting your playful gaze with one of her own.

you’re about to suggest a game with a mischievous wiggle of your hips, clearly not learning your lesson- before jj’s long fingers cup your jaw from behind, gripping you in place. the blonde’s rosy lips press to your ear, his left hand intertwining with your own smaller one, voice low. “y’not going anywhere, duchess. need you to calm down and behave. unless you want me to spank you raw on this beach in front of our friends, hm?”

your breath hitches with surprise at the threat as you watch kiara and pope run back from the ocean dripping saltwater, jj’s words echoing in the now hollow structure of your head. “and if you’re good,” the blonde nods your head up and down for you like a ragdoll for good measure, smirk curling along his chapped lips with faux innocence gleaming from his eyes. he’s more than aware of the pressure building between your pretty legs, your glossy eyes looking up at him for guidance. not to mention the shivers that clatter down your spine at the idea of being put in your place for everyone on the beach to see. all he could do was harden at the thought. “papa’ will let ya show him which one of these rocks he can put on your pretty little finger soon, yeah?”.

the pogue waits for you to nod your own head ‘yes’ like a big girl before placing a kiss on the crown of your head. your shy expression stays hidden against his heart, a giddy smile drawing across your glossy lips as you think about your future with jj.

needless to say, you behaved for the rest of the afternoon.

#this is my first time writing for himmm sorry if it’s a bit ooc #jj maybank #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank prompt #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader fluff #jj maybank x reader smut #jj maybank fanfiction #dom!jj maybank #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #pixie’s works * ੈ✩‧₊˚

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memories-of-ancients · 6 months

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Hey Everyone! Look at this Gold and Rock Crystal Bottle from the Galloway Hoard!

In September of 2014 an avid metal detectorist named Derek Mclennan discovered one of the grandest historical finds in Scottish archaeological history. While searching on church lands near Balmaghie, Mclennan uncovered the Galloway Hoard, a viking age treasure hoard consisting of over 100 objects dating to around 900 AD. While the hoard has some gold objects, most are silver including pieces of jewelry, hack silver, and silver ingots.

Among the objects, the most incredible is a rock crystal bottle that is decorated with gold. The bottle was found inside of a silk pouch, the silk coming from either Byzantium or Asia. The crystal jar itself is not from the middle ages but is Roman and dates to the 4th century. Later in the early middle ages the jar was decorated in gold filigree, at the behest of Bishop Hyguald according to an inscription on the gold work. While the identity of "Bishop Hyguald" is unknown, it is thought that he mostly likely came from Northumbria, an Anglo-Saxon kingdom in northern England. Northumbria would be conquered and occupied by Danish Vikings in the 9th century, which explains how the bottle became a part of the Galloway Hoard.

Today, the bottle along with the rest of the Galloway Hoard is housed at the National Museum of Scotland

#history #antiquities #art #middle ages #medieval art #vikings #anglo saxon england #scotland #scottish history

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herdarkestnightelegance · 23 days

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Magpie Stash

Pairing: Astarion/Tav

Tags: fluff, trauma

Length: 1k words

Summary: While looting, Astarion comes across items he wants to own

A/N: Another headcanon which I may have shared with some of the talented fan fiction writers out there before. So, if that’s the case, don’t come for me! But holy Hells this got much longer than I planed! I guess this is s drabble now? Or a whole ass fanfic? You tell me 😂

Thank you wonderful @nyx-knox for the beta reading! It was *chef‘s kiss* ✨

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Astarion has not owned anything in 200 years.

The only things he could call his were his wits and the clothes on his back - and both he cared for and mended meticulously.

But suddenly he’s part of a ragtag group of strangers, and he finds himself looting a temple not far from where they crashed with a damn Nautiloid after being abducted and infected by mindflayer parasites. And frankly, he’s not entirely sure what part he finds most surprising.

Finding food, weapons and healing potions is a priority. For the others. Not so much him. Honestly. Why should he bother looking for food he won’t even eat? He doesn’t know these weirdos.

But he humors them and even aids his positively helpless companions by picking locks. And as he opens the lid of a gilded chest, something catches his eye.

Beneath old parchment and a rotten carrot he finds …. pretty things? There’s a particularly sparkly ring. A skilfully bound book with gilded letters on the cover. A fine silk scarf hemmed with the most delicate fell-stitches …

He has no idea if those items are of any value. They certainly are useless for the group. But … they are beautiful. And he wants, no he needs to own them. So without giving it too much thought, he takes them.

He has no intention of selling *HIS* items to the vendor they meet at the Tiefling Camp. Hells, he doesn’t even have the intention of showing them to his companions.

He wants these pretty things for himself, he wants to keep them safe. The spawn siblings used to steal from one another all the time, so he’s used to being protective over his meagre possessions. Can’t shake 200 years of hypervigilance that easily.

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Over the next days and weeks of travel, Astarion fills up a little purple leather pouch with whatever catches his eye. Going through the diverse collection of beautiful bits and bobs for a few moments before meditating becomes a secret source of calm for Astarion. A soothing ritual, especially after the more straining days.

Which is what he’s doing now. He sits on his bedroll cross-legged, inspecting the things. His things. His little private treasure trove. That he owns.

A bejeweled comb, random gold coins, a tiny picture frame containing an even tinier painting …

The only piece of his treasure that gave him more of a bittersweet feeling had been a silver hand-mirror he had found in the goblin infested village. To be honest, he was not too mad when he accidentally smashed it in frustration the other night after talking to Tav.

Tav. Their unofficial leader. They never seem to have a problem sharing the things they find. They share their food with the group, their scrolls, and they even gave Astarion that freakish but intriguing tome they had found in that cellar. Far too generous, if you ask him.

As Astarion packs up his collection he hears coughing outside. Again. It’s been going on all night.

He peeks out. Tav is on second watch. The night is cold, and they just added another log to the fire. Still, the cool wind is picking up and Tav pulls their cloak close around their neck - which unfortunately does not prevent the coughing.

For a moment, Astarion considers just ignoring them, letting them hack up a lung. But to his dismay, he … cares? He finds he doesn’t want Tav to be cold or sick. But it’s just because he just doesn’t want their coughing to get annoying. That’s all. Obviously.

So he leaves his tent and saunters up to their leader, who greets him with a sleepy but friendly smile.

Astarion holds out his hand to Tav, holding a long piece of white fabric. He’s offering them his beautiful silk scarf with the immaculate fell-stitched hem that he had inspected a lot over the past weeks.

„You’re coughing too much, darling. It’s keeping me up and I do need my beauty sleep.” he says with mock indignation and his trademark smirk.

„Thank you.“ Tav says as they take the scarf from his hand and wraps it around that oh so delicious neck of theirs.

After an awkward moment of silence Astarion offers a final „Well. Good night, my dear.“ with a courteous bow and walks back to his tent.

He can’t help but wonder at the strange feeling in his chest. Tav can and will never know just what big of a deal this small gesture was for the pale Elf.

For the first time in 200 years Astarion gave away something that was his simply because he wanted to. He wanted them to have it. Because they needed it more than him. And not only that. He does not even expect anything in return. How in the Hells did that happen?

He’s sure it’s nothing.

:::::::

A few years from then, Astarion finds himself in the cellar beneath Tav’s and his home. He’s looking for something, and he’s sure it has to be here somewhere.

“Aha!” From the trunk before him he pulls a skilfully bound book - even though the gilded letters on the cover have worn off with time.

He opens the book - and huffs in relief. And nervousness. It’s still right where he left it between the pages all those years ago.

Hidden inside the old book lies a particularly sparkly ring.

He smiles. A lot has changed since that day they looted that temple and he found his first little treasures. Back then Astarion couldn’t fathom sharing his magpie stash - or anything, for that matter - with anyone. And now? Now he shares a home with the person he loves. And he plans on sharing so much more with them.

What better way of showing that than by proposing with the first thing he ever called his? Because now there’s only one thing, or rather person, he wants for himself. The one person he wants to share everything with.

He looks at the particularly sparkly ring.

Yes. This should do nicely.

So, and on a completely unrelated note: When does a headcanon become a full on fanfic lol?

#astarion x tav #astarion headcanons #this is about astarion #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #astarion fanfiction #ohoh herdarkestnightelegance wrote something

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zhongrin · 1 year

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floaty companion

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, al haitham, childe, cyno, kaveh

◇ tags ◇ character!seelie, cuteness overload, no romantic pairing but your seelie loves you very much!!

◇ a/n ◇ this is largely inspired by @hiraya-rawr and @genshinarchives seelie!companion and seelie!reader concepts respectively. important: please don’t send in requests for seelie!reader on genshinarchives, she’s not writing for that concept anymore!

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

seelie!zhongli's antennae are abnormally longer than normal seelies and remind you of a dragon’s. his tail is a tad thicker than normal seelies too, and he has tiny claws on his stubby little arm. it’s just as unique as it is adorable.

pee-colored shining golden color. people have mistaken him for a huge mora coin whenever he curls into a ball and has most definitely tried to grab him.

because of this, whenever you’re traveling inside the city, he prefers to bury himself within your hair - or, if your hair is long enough and you wear them down, he would gladly use them as a curtain as he sits on your shoulder. otherwise, he’ll peek out from your coat or pocket. he’s still a curious one, after all!

when you’re out and about is when he will float alongside you, enjoying the scenery and fresh air. careful though, you might want to check on him every now and then, because sometimes he just stops to admire the view. grandpa behavior. oh and sometimes he’ll disappear and return with a pouch of mora… how did he get those? he’s just extremely lucky when it comes to mora, it seems. or maybe he has some seelie mora-seeking intuition. who knows?

always tries to sip on your cup of tea. always ends up 1) falling into the teacup or 2) poured tea all over himself. the day you got him a mini teacup he literally bounces in excitement on your palm.

seelie!al haitham is a silver colored ball (which will magically shimmer green under certain lighting) that trails after you quietly…. until he sees a bookstore that is. in which case he’ll pull on your clothes or ear so you take a detour.

people laugh at you when you tell them your seelie is literate, and they think you’re crazy when you say he’s fluent in at least twenty languages and counting. well, jokes on them, he’s helped you decipher runes and guide you to secret passages in all the ruins you’ve gone to explore.

basically, those trips almost always end up with you finding lost treasures or new valuable information, which meant more mora. which means, you’re kind of rich because of him, and so he demands payments in the form of books and cuddles.

he’s normally very docile but you had witnessed him headbutting a yellow-colored seelie with a brownish tint on its antennae that seemed to be curious of your presence and hovered a little too close for his liking. you think the poor thing is now probably stranded all the way to the sumeru desert. yeah… best not to anger him.

he’ll sometimes disappear off to archons-know-where by himself, but he always comes back within the day. and he always has a souvenir when he returns; from a torn page of a book (you think it’s poetry but you have no idea what it says because they’re written in a language you don’t know) to a freshly bloomed padisarah, it always ends up with you cradling him in your arms and him silently enjoying the extra attention.

poor seelie!kaveh fell onto your bag while you were resting up in your adventure of traveling around the sumeru desert. you take pity on his unconscious form and decide to carry him until he wakes, intending to look for his owner the soonest you return to caravan ribat….

only, what happened after that was him waking up, taking one good look at your face, and now he’s stuck onto you like glue. quite literally. you sleep that night and when you wake up the next day he has somehow sewn a little pocket on your coat for him to ride in.

he brings you flowers or shiny-looking stones at least five times every day. sulks (by burrowing into his ‘home’ on your coat and refusing to acknowledge you until you apologize) when you don’t take good care of said presents.

he seems to become very hostile whenever he sees any silver-colored seelies. they’re a rare variety, but the two times you’ve encountered them throughout your adventures, your little yellow-brown seelie had screeched so loud you think he gave you tinnitus.

whenever you stumble into buildings you haven’t seen before, he’ll dazedly float out from his pocket home and squeak happily. he’ll drag you on a little tour around the building and inside said building if you’re allowed to enter.

seelie!childe is a strange ocean-blue colored ball that seems to be able to produce water out of nowhere???

you playfully knitted him a silly little red scarf to differentiate him from the other blue-colored seelies and he’s taken a liking to it. he always gets pouty whenever you take the cloth off him so you can wash the grime off. how can you know that he’s pouting when seelies don’t have mouths? umm. let’s just say you have a special emotional connection.

super noisy, squeaks and bumps and nuzzles onto you 24/7. will not sleep if he’s not nestled onto your neck. likes to perch on your person, be it your head, your shoulder, or your pocket.

when he’s angry he turns into a purplish color and zaps anything he’s in contact with. sometimes he does this to you when you’re being neglectful of your safety. suffice to say that his shocking (pun intended) warnings have saved your life more than once.

doesn’t do too well in hot weather. he literally melts onto your shoulder and refuses to detach himself. thrives on cold weather; he seems to really love snow.

soft pastel purple color is the hue of seelie!cyno. his antennae is darker colored and shaped like jackal ears.

can summon tiny lighting strikes. you have no idea how that works. just know that your little companion will not hesitate to do it to people who make you uncomfortable.

protective. will float in front of you and survey the area first. you two probably have determined a set of signals to ‘communicate’ with each other. always waits for you to catch up when you fall behind. very rarely he hides in your pocket; even when you fight he’s there as moral support and would act as a distraction to your opponents.

has a very good sense of direction somehow. you’ll never get lost with him around. if you’re going the wrong way, he’ll smoosh your cheek to get your attention and point in the right direction.

seems to be very obsessed with this card game called tcg. whenever he sees someone selling cards on the side street stalls, he’ll bump you in a warning and lead you towards the said shop. seelies don’t have eyes but when he faces you with a rare card in hand you swear you can see him making puppy eyes at you. and he might be a seelie, but you figured with the winning streak you have with him controlling your plays, he might be well on his way to becoming the most legendary tcg player in the whole teyvat.

#astronetwrk #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #rin writes #zhongli #zhongli x reader #childe #tartaglia #ajax #childe x reader #al haitham #al haitham x reader #cyno #cyno x reader #kaveh #kaveh x reader

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archerinventive · 2 months

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New Limited Edition Bloom-Bag & Bud-Bags now in the shop!

That's right! The first Bloom Bag of 2024 is now up for grabs, as well as two new smaller Bud-Bags.

Perfect for keeping your trinkets and treasures safe this Tuesday. :)

Wishing you all a magical evening. 💜

https://www.etsy.com/shop/ArcherInventive

Flower Bloom-Bag: SOLD

Pink Bud-Bag: FOR SALE

Purple Bud-Bag: FOR SALE

#bloombag #bloomingbag #budbag #flowerfashion #fantasyfashion #purse #pouch #handmade #limitedefition #oneofakind #ferries #archerinventive

#bloom bag #blooming bag #bud bags #petal pouch #flower power #flower fashion #fantasy fashion #limited edition #one of a kind #handmade #wearable art #archer inventive

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holymusicalmothman · 7 months

Text

Eat at Baratie! - OPLA!Sanji x Fem!Reader

Might do a part two, there might be more of this that comes to mind!

Inspo is from @madmadamemimble who said : "Sanji recognizes reader as a former patron of the baratie a few years back. Why does he remember them? They dined and dashed. On his watch. Zeff. Was. Furious. He still begrudges them for the lengthy month of chore duty he got stuck with as a result. But how could he ever stay mad at someone so beautiful, kind and charming."

Warnings: none? mentions of a dine and dash in the past. Don't do that to your waiters guys :)

Word Count: 1k

Main Masterlist

You felt yourself tense when your little brother led you all through the fog and towards the Baratie. Normally you didn’t return to places that you had left on a rather…unhappy note. But you also knew that you didn’t stand a chance against Luffy’s appetite.

But maybe the waiter from before wasn’t working there anymore? And the Head Chef and Owner, who you knew to be Red Leg Zeff, had never seen your face. So you knew there was a slight chance you’d make it through this. After all, you didn’t even have a reservation.

You weren’t proud of your prior actions, but back then the simple dine and dash had just been a moment in the wind. You definitely hadn’t planned on returning.

And you definitely weren’t telling your brother.

Growing up two years Luffy’s elder, you made it your own personal mission to look out for him. Especially after Shanks had left. You had taken his departure personally, the pirate genuinely being your father. Luffy had never quite told you how that moment had affected him, it was the one of the few things he had never opened up to you about. But you had seen how much he treasured his hat. He called you his sister though. And you called him your brother.

You and Nami stood more towards the back of the group as Luffy and Usopp attempted to get a table.

“You’re tense.” She pointed out.

Being the only two girls aboard the Going Merry, you liked to think you and Nami were friends.

You lowered your voice. “Don’t tell my brother, but I might have dined and dashed here a few years back.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “You?”

You nodded. “Took a few months a few years back to see what I could. I felt restless back home, and Luffy wasn’t quite ready to head for the Grand Line. I wound up here, hungry and broke. I feel bad for the waiter, if I’m honest. He was…charming, and easy on the eyes.”

Nami smirked, a quick laugh passing through her nose. “Well then, maybe he’s still working here.” She walked over to the host and pulled some Berry from her pouch. “Excuse those two, they’re idiots.”

“Nami!” You were floored. Had she not been listening when you said you had dined and dashed?

“Relax, you said it yourself, it’s been years.”

You groaned as you followed the group to the table, seating yourself between Nami and Zoro, trying to vanish into the booth.

“Are you okay?” Luffy asked, not quite sure what to make of your antics but concerned none the less.

You kicked Nami in the shin under the table as she opened her mouth.

“I’m fine. Just tired.” You told your brother, reluctantly sitting up.

There was a shout a ways away, toward the entrance to the kitchens. You couldn’t quite tell what was happening from your angle, but you recognized the accented voice that followed.

“No cause for alarm folks, return to your meals.”

Your gaze fused itself to the tablecloth.

A basket of bread was set on the table.

“Hi, welcome to our shitty restraunt where the only thing worse than the ambiance is our food. My name is Sanji, what can I get for you?”

You frowned, looking up.

It was the same man from the last time you were here, but the charm was…missing. Odd.

Luffy had dug into the bread with joy. “One of everything please!”

Sanji glanced at your brother. “Anything to drink? Perhaps one of our signature cocktails to help you choke down your meal?”

Your eyebrows shot up.

“Wow. Giving us the hard sell.” Nani’s voice was sarcastic and rather deadpan.

It was like a switch had been flipped. Sanjis eyes flickered from Nami to you and seemed to linger.

“Apologies, madames, I didn’t see you there. Would you care for an aperitif to start? We have several rare Micqueot vintages in stock. Or perhaps a glass of Umeshu? You know, something sweet for someone sweet.”

The wink that followed was obviously directed at you and you felt your cheeks warm despite the situation. You returned your gaze to the table.

“Something wrong with your eye?” Nami questioned.

Sanji merely smiled. “Just blinded by beauty.”

You heard Nami order the both of you plain waters and the receding footsteps of your waiter.

As soon as he was out of earshot, the boys started giggling at the obvious flip to his personality. You rolled your eyes and nudged Zoro to let you out of the booth.

“I’mma get some air.” You muttered lamely.

The open air bar was cooler than the dining room, you noticed as you leaned against the railing.

“You caused me quite the bit of trouble the last time you were here. I trust you don’t plan on pulling such a stunt again?”

The blond was at your side, resting his forearms on the railing, a lit cigarett dangling from his fingertips.

“I have berry.”

He raised a brow, taking a drag. “And you didn’t before I take it.”

You shook your head. “Not at the time. I’m sorry about that by the way. I didn’t mean to get you into any trouble with Zeff.”

“It wasn’t too bad,” he smiled, grey blue eyes meeting yours. “Just a month’s worth of extra kitchen chores. Honestly, Zeff could have done much worse. I think, that as long as it doesn’t happen again, we’ll be alright.”

“We?”

“I trust you’ll be docked while your ship receives repairs, and I’d love a chance to get to know a lady as charming as yourself.”

You laughed. Something about him was enthralling. You couldn’t tell if it was the charm, the accent, the smile, the way his hair fell in his face, or even just the way he looked. Something about him reeled you in like a fish on a line.

“Maybe a drink after my shift?” He asked, hopefully.

“I’d like that, Sanji.” You said with a smile.

“Ah, and the beautiful lady blesses me with a drink. I should get back to work, I’ll see you later then?”

“Yeah, I should be getting back to my brother.”

“Until later, then.”

You smiled as he walked away, back into the dining room. Maybe coming back to the Baratie was a good idea after all.

#opla sanji x reader #opla sanji #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #opla x reader #thismothwrites

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gabessquishytum · 27 days

Note

Hob never told Dream everything he did to survive in 1689.

With nothing left to sell but his body, he became a sex worker to survive. It was not a good experience.

When dream met him that year, he felt for hob, got him dinner and a room and they ended up sleeping together. For dream, it was their first time together as lovers. For hob… it was the only chance he had with the being he loved. He was happy to let dream have his body, but hob believed that dream knew and had paid for him with dinner, the room, and the pouch of gold he left in the morning. Hob still enjoyed the night, but it broke his heart, begging Dream for his cock and wishing that it was more than a transaction.

They sleep together again in 1789. Dream sucks hob’s cock and then hob rides him on the table. Dream leaves him with a necklace—a gift to a lover, Dream thinks. Payment, hob thinks.

And in 1889, they fight. And in 2022, dream returns. They resume their friendship until one day Dream works up the courage to ask hob if he wants to resume their romantic relationship. And hob looks regretful and disappointed as he tells Dream that he doesn’t do that for money anymore.

And it’s the first time Dream realizes there has been a miscommunication.

OOO NOOOO I absolutely love misunderstandings like this. It hurts so much but it feels so fucking good.

Like. Dream is beating himself up so hard as he reflects on his previous sexual encounters with Hob. In 1689 he didn't even think about how Hob might potentially be too traumatised and messed up to even consent to sex. With people treating him like literal crap all the time, it's natural that he assumed that Dream was using him just like everyone else. Dream desperately wishes he could go back and rewrite the past. He can't believe that he's fucked up a relationship yet again, and he didn't even know it!

He humbly apologises and practically begs Hob to forgive him. And Hob is just... Well, a little confused? He always treasured his moments with Dream. Finding out all these years later that Dream didn't just think of him as a whore... it heals something in Hob that has been broken for a very long time. Dream is surprised to find himself being hugged tightly as Hob whispers "thank you" and "I love you" over and over.

Now he can get out the necklace that he's kept for all these years and wear it with pride on his very first proper date with Dream. And Dream can gently hold Hob’s hand and remind him that he is loved and valued. No matter what.

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw dubcon #cw sex work

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gfdazai · 1 month

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IT'S LOVE, IT'S ROMANCE.

* Being in a relationship w/ them.

* CW / Established relations, GN reader (I thinkies,) not proofread / edited, I'm making this up as I gooo! Sorry if this is OOC, it's been a wwhile since I've genshided?... Genshinend?.... Yknow. this isnt good im ngl. SO RUSHED this is . unbelievable. It's all over the place but

Ningguang, who showers you with anything that you look at when going window shopping. She doesn't even think twice about the price — despite your refusals, and complaints — she gets you to accept it eventually.

Ningguang, who lets you do her hair as a sign of love. She's a busy lady, it's basically a proclamation of love when she spares enough time for you to sit down, comb her hair and braid it, if you're lucky enough.

Ningguang, who hunts out almost every Qingxin when you say one is pretty. Ningguang, who pays for a crate of cecilias when you say you wished they grew in Liyue.

Beidou,, who brings you back stuff from each of her voyages! ! You say you'd like some fabric from Inazuma? Done. You want wine from Mondstadt? Done, even quicker!

Beidou, who collects shells for you from each shore she comes across. All her treasures (shells), are taking up at least 3 drawers. You don't have the heart to stop her, as she seems so happy when she brings you another pouch everytime she's home...

Beidou, who schedules a whole day for cuddling before she leaves. She refuses to take you with her — scared of you getting hurt, or something — so she spends as much time with you as she can. She forces you to clear your schedule to stay in bed with her all morning, not caring if you had a meeting with whoever, wherever.

Lisa,, who constantly uses you as a guinea pig for her potions. You wanna spend time with her? Okay, just drink this!! Of course, she'd never let anything harm you, she only gives you the potions with the silly side effects.

She'd constantly tease you, calling you petnames that not even the flirtest would think of, just for the amusement of seeing you flustered. If you tease her back, though? It's like a compitition of who get's more flustered first. It's gotten so bad, to the point of the library emptying out because of it.

Lisa, who doesn't even spare you from her punishments as a librarian! Oh, you forgot to give her the book last night? No, no, that simply won't do! She can't be stopping her job for her pretty thing, no, not even for you. ...At least she apologizes afterwards.

Furina,, who 'makes' (gets someone else to make) sweets for you. She somehow knows exactly what you want, and exactly when you want it.

She'd also let you sit in on tea parties, right next to her. She'd make you a little hat like her own, like her own little claim on you, making you sit there and look like her pretty little thing.

Furina, who gets flustered the moment you imply going anything romantic. Holding hands? Not that bad, it'll get her a little flustered. Kissing? She feels like she's having a heart attack after the first kiss the two of you share.

She'd get Neuvillette to get you plushies, preferring to stay with you as he goes to find whatever animal she requested this time. She'd get jealous if you picked a plushie to have in your arms instead of her, whining and wiggling around in the bed until you replace the plushie with her.

Please don't steal my work, nor feed it to any sort of AI. Thank you! ♡

#⌗ ─ “ Tea parties are a must for the well-mannered. ”#WAAHHH!!!!!! WRITING #I hate this!!!!><><#genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact scenarios #lisa minci x reader #ningguang x reader #beidou x reader #Furina x reader #genshin women x reader

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starlight-tav · 5 months

Text

Vows

Astarion x Gender Neutral Reader/Unnamed Tav

Warnings: brief mention of Cazador; Astarion's self-doubt; minor Act 2 spoilers

Summary: Tav has a gift for Astarion; Astarion has a lot of feelings and he is still learning to feel them

You walk up to Astarion's tent, calling his name in that affectionate way you do. He places a ribbon in the book in his hands and gives you his full attention.

"Yes, darling?"

"Do you have a moment to spare?" You ask, rubbing the back of your neck. "I'd like to—I have something for you."

He raises an eyebrow but gestures for you to come sit with him in his tent. You settle across from him on your knees, hands balled up on top of your thighs. He rarely sees you nervous, but he does his utmost not to betray his anxiety about that.

"Hold out your hand," you say. "Please."

It should concern him how he complies without hesitation, but it doesn't.

You reach into a pouch that hangs from your hip and produce something small enough to be entirely obscured by your fist. He watches your face intently as you place it gently into his opened palm, your own fingertips lingering on his skin for too brief a moment.

He looks at your gift and raises his eyes in surprise. Attached to a leather cord is a ring of intricately carved driftwood. It is both exquisite and unassuming – only upon close inspection do the delicately hewn druidic details reveal how much mastery was put into it. It is whole and unbroken.

"This is beautiful," Astarion glances between you and the ring, too many questions filling his mind all at once. "Where did it come from?"

"I made it," you reply, searching his features for any sign of discomfort.

His ruby eyes snap to yours, his lips parted in disbelief.

"You made this? For me?" He raises both brows.

You nod, balling your fists in your lap again. "I wanted to—to give you something to show you that I care for you. You have said that you don't know what we're doing, and I don’t need you to. But I would be remiss if I didn't tell you that… I want to stay by your side. I meant it when I said that you are more than your body. This is yours. You need not offer me anything in return."

Astarion's face softens as you speak, and he gazes at the treasure in his hand. He cannot remember ever receiving something so dear. His affection for you swells within him like a mighty wave, and he fears for a moment that he'll be washed away with it. But then his eyes meet yours, and the sincerity there is like salvation.

He believes you. Gods, he believes you.

He smiles and carefully places the cord over his head and around his neck. There's a faint warmth where the ring lies, nestled perfectly between his collarbones, and he realizes that you have imbued the circle with druidic protections. He struggles to swallow around the emotion balled up in his throat.

He holds out his hand, much like he did the night after that Drow attempted to solicit a bite from him—the night he confessed his failed plans to you. You take his offering and the warmth of your skin against his is as sweet as the sun that he loves so much.

"Thank you," he says.

He wants to say more. He fears that he's unworthy of your affection, but he knows that you would reassure him if he were to voice his concern. He wants more than anything to hear your affirmations. To hold your heart and faith close to his chest, taking the heat for himself. It is this desire to possess that stays his tongue.

He does not believe himself in any position to return your love the way he so desires to. Not until the shadow of his former master has been lifted. Not until he can be certain that his body is his own and can never be used to harm you again. Not until he's free.

So, for now, he will accept your gift and keep that close to his heart in your stead. But he vows to himself that one day he will be his own again; his own to share with you, purely because he desires to.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x gn tav #astarion x reader #astarion x gn reader #gender neutral tav

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lets-just-daydream · 7 months

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Hi hello!

Can I request some gothic angsty romance about ascended astarion years after tav left him and lives on their own? Idk if that’s up your alley or not ><

YESSSSS OMG alsooooo i kinda got carried away LOL

Astarion never wanted to be a brooding vampire. He'd read stories all about them in his countless years and just found it a little embarrassing if he was honest. He supposed he didn't see the need to brood in the darkness anyway. He made the decision to ascend with your help a few years ago and he could bask in the sun, he could make an army that bent to his every whim, he could feed on whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted. And yet, he sat in front of his fireplace, curtains drawn shut with a golden goblet of wine in his hand, brooding.

He had everything he ever wanted. Well, almost everything but he could hardly be blamed for that. Well, you did blame him and he was displeased to say the least you would ever dare to defy him. How could you? After everything. He devoted everything to you, worshipped you and granted you the gift of eternal life so you could spend it by his side. But after some time into your relationship with him after he had ascended you had just… left. He remembered it so clearly.

"Good morning, my treasure," Astarion whispered against your skin as the sunlight beamed in through the window.

It bathed you both in a soft light and you turned to admire his alabaster skin. He rubbed his nose against your neck and inhaled. He would never get enough of your musk, and he made sure he laid claim over you by making sure he bathed you in his own scent, so no one would ever dare to try to make a move on you.

You had noticed Astarion had become more… possessive of you lately. At first you found it endearing and butterflies would flutter in your stomach when he'd wrap a protective arm around your waist, or when he'd hover nearby. But once, one of his spawn had sought you out to ask a question and Astarion was displeased. He came up next to you while you were mid-conversation and pressed a hot, urgent kiss to your lips, coming close to undressing and claiming you in front of his spawn.

"Astarion," you said, trying to pull away. He held onto you and you pushed him away, heaving heavy breaths from the embarrassment. "What in the hells are you doing?!"

The fact that you were so… insubordinate in front of someone else caused him to glare down at you. He growled and pulled you by the arm up to the bedroom and fucked you loud enough that the entire palace heard you screaming his name. He owned you and he needed you, his spawn and anyone else who might hear to remember that.

"You're mine," he whispered in to your ear as he fucked you.

The next time Astarion had made you feel uneasy was when he decided he wanted to host a party. You were excited, now that the two of you could just enjoy your lives after all the shit you'd been through. And because of that, you thought you deserved a nice, new outfit to wear for the party. You grabbed your gold pouch and left the palace to wander through the high-end shops. You had such a fun afternoon trying on what felt like hundreds of outfits before you finally landed on a beautiful piece with gold trimmings and gorgeous threadwork. You hoped Astarion would like it and you were excited to show him your new purchase.

You arrived home and were greeted by Astarion near the front door. He heard you enter the house and stalked over to you, grabbing you by the shoulders.

"Where the hell have you been?" He asked, his fingers gripping your tightly.

"I was out at the shops," you faltered, gesturing to the cloth clothing bag in your hand.

"And you didn't think to tell me you were going out?!"

Your brows furrowed. "I didn't think I needed to update you on my every movement. Would you like you know the next time I need to scratch my ass?"

At your taunt, Astarion's expression darkened and one of his hands slid to your throat, squeezing lightly. His voice dropped and you shivered slightly as he seethed. "I have half a mind to lock you away in the bedroom and only let you out at my own leisure."

You gasped slightly and pulled away from him, his hands dropping as he glared down at you.

"You'd do well to remember your place, pet," he said as he reached out and caressed your cheek. He tutted at your scared expression and leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead before he stalked away, leaving you visibly shaken.

You still stayed by his side, however. You figured he was still getting used to the new power he had and figured he wouldn't know better if you didn't say so. So you decided to pull him aside one day, asking if you could talk.

"You want to talk? That's cute," he said condescendingly.

You frowned and sat in the armchair opposite his, the fire crackled as the silence between you stretched. You tried to find the words but you weren't sure how he was going to take it no matter how delicately you put it.

"Well, my little treat?"

You sighed and looked up at Astarion. He was so beautiful, the shadows cast over his face from the fire made him look ethereal almost.

"Astarion, I don't know how to put this. I don't want you to get upset but… I don't think I can stay here anymore. With you," you whispered.

His brows furrowed and for a moment, you weren't sure he heard you but his expression turned steely after a moment. "What are you talking about?" He asked, his voice devoid of any warmth.

He stood and walked over in front of your chair, glaring down at you. You could only stare back, slightly afraid as you watched his nose flair in displeasure. He corrected himself and softened his expression, one of his hands coming down to rub your cheek softly, as if he might break you if he held you too tight.

"You don't want to stay here with me anymore, is that right pet?" He asked.

You slowly nodded your head, your eyes never leaving his.

"Would you like to tell me why?"

You gulped and took a deep breath as you tried to piece together an explanation that wouldn't make him too angry. You had had a taste of his bouts of anger and you were on very shaky ground right now.

"Do you remember when you first ascended and the night we spent together?" You gave him a soft, hopefully reassuring smile. "You said that you'd take of me forever, that I would want for nothing and you would never let anything happen to me?"

Astarion nodded wordlessly.

"Well, I don't feel very well taken care of," you said slowly. "I feel like you're… controlling me. I miss the person you were before you became the ascendant."

Astarion scoffed and dropped his hand from your face. "You miss the weak, pathetic little spawn I was?"

His words stung slightly and you looked down at your hands in your lap. "Is that how you see me?" You faltered. "A weak, pathetic little spawn?"

Astarion dropped to his knees and knelt in front of you. You looked at him and had trouble reading his expression, but he looked at you with adoration.

"Little love," he murmured, his face so close to yours that your noses were almost touching. "When I was a spawn, I was a scared and controlled pawn in whatever Cazador told me to do. I was locked away in dungeons. Do I lock you away?"

You shook your head.

"He forced me to sleep with thousands of strangers and bring them to him. Do I make you sleep with the disgusting vermin of this city to bring them to me?"

You shook your head again.

He cupped your jaw in his hand and rubbed your skin with his thumb. "When I disobeyed him one time, he locked me in a casket for a year and let me starve, begging for death for months on end. When you've upset me, have I ever done such an abhorrent thing to you?"

"No," you whispered.

"No," Astarion repeated. "I love and cherish you so much, my treasure. I only want to keep you within my reach and in my arms to ensure your safety. How could I ever do to you what he did to me? I've never heard of a vampire spawn treated as well as you are."

He gave you a soft, loving smile and you returned it, unaware that he had just played you like a fiddle. You were so easily manipulated now, just like you were when he first met you. Exactly how he wanted you.

After your conversation with Astarion, he had actually calmed down a little bit which was surprising to you. But he seemed stiffer than usual and you found yourself walking around eggshells near him anyway. Most spawn did of course, he was the ultimate vampire. The vampire ascendant. But the fact that he had become softer and you still didn't feel completely comfortable around him anymore set a pit in your stomach.

You weren't like normal lovers who had simply had a quarrel and would work it out. You were fantastic beings who could live forever, and Astarion had total control over you. This could last forever if you let it. So you figured, what was the harm in another talk? He had been reasonable last time and corrected himself, he loved you and you were completely devoted to one another.

You entered his study where he sat in a plush armchair, reading a book of some sort. The curtains were open and sunlight was streaming in through the windows, bathing him in sunlight. It was lucky he could withstand the sun, he looked gorgeous basking in its glow. He glanced up to see who was intruding and a smile spread on his lips when he saw you approach.

"Ah, my sweet," he said as he placed the book on the table beside him. "I've missed you today."

He patted his hands in his lap and gestured for you to come sit, which you obliged. You sat with either knee straddling his hips and he looked up at you with soft, red eyes before gripping your hips and nuzzling his face in your neck.

"You smell divine as always," he whispered against your skin, pressing a kiss to your neck.

He seemed like he was in a pretty good mood so you figured now was as good a time as any.

"My love…" you began, placing your hands over his.

Astarion pulled back from your skin and gazed into your eyes with a look that said he knew something was coming. "Yes my sweet?"

"Maybe I'm just being silly but… I'm worried that you've been distancing yourself from me."

You watched as he raised a brow, his mouth hardening into a line. "Distancing myself? I'm not sure I know what you mean."

You sucked in a breath. "Since that day we talked, when I said I wasn't happy… I don't know, things feel different."

Astarion scoffed and gripped your hips tighter. "First, I give you eternal life with some of my own power sprinkled in. Then, you wanted to leave me because," he raised his fingers in air quotes. "I don't treat you well. So I relaxed and have given you extra freedom, you've even talked to some men and I haven't killed them. Now, you're not happy with that, either."

His expression darkened and he wrapped his fingers around your chin and cheeks, holding you in place. "What more could I give you that you don't already have?"

You trembled slightly and studied Astarion's face. You caught a glimpse of something you saw the day he turned you… Something demeaning and possessive that you didn't understand at the time but you do now. He doesn't see you as an equal, he sees you as his object. Truly a pathetic, little spawn.

Tears brimmed in your eyes and you shut them as the tears rolled down your cheeks and onto Astarion's fingers. A choked sob left you and while Astarion's eyes stayed steely, he pulled you into a hug and patted your hair. You sobbed into his shoulder and you weren't even sure what you were crying for. Many thoughts raced through your mind that caused you to sob harder. You remembered the first time you ever met Astarion, the first night you had ever spent together, when he had confessed his love to you in spite of himself and a moment you wish you could take back. The moment you decided to let him ascend. That one made you cry the most.

"There, there, my love," Astarion comforted. "We'll fix this."

His words were soft but you heard the strain in his voice when he spoke. You couldn't know that he was so incredibly frustrated. He had never seen anyone behave like this when he was a spawn under Cazador. The vampire master never stood for it, but also, Cazador didn't have someone like you. Maybe Astarion needed to try a different approach. He'd tried what just came naturally and then he tried being more like what you wanted him to be. Clearly you weren't happy with either of these so he decided he would do what he wanted to do.

Whether he was going to lock you up somewhere or chain you to the bed he wasn't sure but he'd had enough of trying to please you and having it thrown back in his face.

You, on the other hand, weren't sure how he was going to react after this and worried that Astarion's patience was only so limited. You could only handle so many of his different ways of showing his love for you before it turned into something completely unsavoury. You would never say it to him but… he was starting to remind you of Cazador. Only a little bit, but enough that it scared you.

You weren't sure if dealing with Astarion's new way of love and life or leaving and starting a new life on your own was scarier. But you had to make a choice and you didn't really want to stick around to see how Astarion was going to "fix" this one.

After your moment in the study, Astarion retired to the bedroom to rest. You told him you would join him soon but instead you waited until all the spawn had either turned in or gone out for the night. You stood at the bottom of the stairs and heard nothing from your bedroom. You quickly and quietly made your way to the front doors before slipping out with a gold pouch and some possessions in your pack you had stowed away earlier.

You ran your hand fondly over the pack. It was travel-worn and had served you well during your adventures since the nautiloid crash. Your eyes became misty as you recalled memories with Astarion over those weeks. You glanced at the door behind you before taking off into the night to hide yourself away.

Whilst you weren't sure how long your immunity to the sun would last, hopefully forever, you were grateful to Astarion for granting you that at least. You wouldn't have to hide away in the Underdark. But… you would have to seek out your own sustenance now which you weren't sure you could stomach. But this was your decision for now, whether you'd end up crawling back to Astarion or not.

The following morning, Astarion woke and reached out for you, feeling nothing but cold, empty bed. He sat up with a start and looked around the room but you were nowhere to be found. He jumped out of bed and pulled some pants on before storming through the palace in search of you. As he checked each room and you weren't there, his anger and worry increased. Had someone kidnapped you? He hadn't found any random notes, plus no one would be foolish enough to do that. His brow furrowed and he bit down on his lip in frustration.

Oh! Perhaps you'd gone to the shops for the morning. He felt relieved at this thought. You'd done this before and you'd be back in no time. With a relieved sigh, he turned to one of his spawn and asked him to draw a bath. He wandered back to the bedroom and set out his clothes for the day. He smiled as he ran his fingers over your dresses and possessions, each one of them was so… you. Perhaps he'd come and join you at the shops when he was done.

He picked some clothes out but paused on his way out of the closet. His eyes narrowed to a spot on the floor that looked strangely empty. Racking his brain to think about what could be missing, he dropped his clothes with a gasp as the penny dropped. He let out an angry cry when he realised your travel pack was gone. He dressed quickly and stormed through the palace once again, this time angrier and with more urgency.

The spawn approached to tell him his bath was ready, but Astarion pushed him to the side as he descended the stairs and walked out the door, slamming it behind him. He stepped outside and as he looked around at all the people who milled around and did their shopping, he had no idea where you could be. His first thought was that you'd be hiding someplace dark and well-hidden but you had his own blood in your system. You could be anywhere.

In reality you weren't that far away. You had become so familiar with every nook and cranny of Baldur's Gate whilst you and your merry band had been on your quest. So you were pretty certain you could keep off Astarion's radar, for now at least. But gods, you were going to miss him.

You'd managed to stay hidden for a while, dodging his spawn and keeping out trouble. You did miss him something fierce and you'd been tempted to go crawling back to him a few times but to what end? But could you last eternity like this without him?

Astarion had the answer to that. The answer was decidedly no. He had no idea where you had disappeared to but he was never going to give up on searching for you. Other spawn had tried to view for his affections but none could hold a candle to you. None could ever begin to even compare to you. It was you he wanted and it was you he would search for, forever if he needed to.

#red writes #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion

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shadowlali · 2 months

Text

gold chains in the dark

COD AU - Alejandro Vargas x burglar!fem!reader

[18+] wc: ~2.6k summary: Your heist is interrupted by a Vaquero. masterlist

warnings: NSFW, not canon, some proofreading, no use of Y/N nor details on reader’s appearance, violence/murder, reader getting aroused while stealing, reader and Alejandro know each other, thigh humping, fingering, somewhat public sex, unprotected sex, creampie

a/n: *Takes place during the 11th mission titled “El Sin Nombre” in COD MW II, where Alejandro is wearing a mask and poses as one of El Sin Nombre’s men throughout the mission. He enters Diego Salgado’s mansion, who is one of Valeria’s lugartenientes [lieutenants]. According to the COD fandom wiki page, there is a safe you can open while in Diego’s home.

For @glitterypirateduck writing challenge “Amor a Alejandro!” I used prompt 29. You should be more careful. Inspired by @ghostofthemost141 who gave me the idea to write a fic about Alejandro in a mask. Title is inspired by the song "Chulo pt.2" and also @warningofeve who a while back said this song is perfect for Alejandro🤍

“Invitation?”

You pretend to look through your small clutch, knowing you have nothing in there except lipgloss and gum. “It looks like I don’t have it,” you whine, lifting your voice an octave, “oh no! I’ve spent all this time getting ready and I forgot the invitation.”

You do a small twirl in front of the security guard, watching as his eyes move appreciatively down your body.

“Well,” he says, getting closer to place a hand on your waist, “maybe there’s something I could do–”

He doesn’t notice the small knife in your palm, doesn’t register the moment it slashes through the air and pierces his neck. He gurgles, reaching for the gun strapped to his chest, but by then it's too late. Life slowly drains from his eyes as you wipe your knife clean on his clothes and drag his body to hide right by the bushes. You scan the area, making sure the coast is clear before opening the gate and slipping inside.

Another security guard waits by the door, but motions you in after he pats you down for any hidden weapons. The knife, now inside your purse, hides behind a secret pouch. A waiter by the door hands you a simple black masquerade mask that matches the ones worn by other women at the party. The men, including the security guards, wear full balaclavas.

You walk around, noticing how nervous the men seem. Their hands twitch at their sides, reaching for a weapon that isn’t there. And it’s obvious why they’re nervous. Las Almas is currently at war, and El Sin Nombre wants to know who they’re fighting against. But, you’re not here for that.

One of El Sin Nombre’s lugartenientes has a fascination with expensive jewels. The moment you found out the meeting would be held at his mansion, you created a plan to come in and take them. You were able to find the architect who built this house and were able to steal the plans from his office.

After tailing one of his maids and making small talk with her at a grocery store, you innocently asked if she had any tips on how to clean jewelry. She was so nice, giving you tips on how she cleans her boss’ prized possessions. She talked and talked, even telling you where he stores them.

The ones he wears everyday are kept in his dresser while the ones he treasures the most are kept in a safe. The moment she gave you that information, she immediately regretted it, looking sheepish and walking away, realizing she had given unnecessary information to a stranger. There’s a few obvious places you need to check, like the bedroom and office, to see where his safe is.

You grab a flute of champagne and walk around the lower floor, taking in the guests and discreetly checking for ways to get to the top floors. Most of the stairs are blocked off by security guards. Even the outside courtyard is being monitored. You continue to walk around the courtyard and quickly down the rest of the champagne once you notice an opportunity.

By a miracle, two guards seem to be preoccupied with a guest. They begin pushing him around as he demands to speak to El Sin Nombre and you take the opportunity to slip past them and through the courtyard doors. It leads to a smaller courtyard, complete with a fountain and small garden. There’s a balcony that overlooks, and right underneath is a cement block that you use to hoist yourself up and inside.

You manage to enter through the open balcony doors into what looks like an upstairs bar. It’s dark, only the light from the hallway providing some illumination for the room. You slide against the walls and listen for any footsteps. The click of your heels are softened by the carpet of the room, but the rest of the house has tile.

A guard walks through the hallway, shining a flashlight into the open rooms. You press yourself to the wall, feeling your heart race. The thrill of the heists always exhilarates you. Heat shoots directly to your core as you quietly make your way through the second floor. Especially now, with how anxious everyone is and how much security they have, you welcome the challenge.

Diego can be seen through the window of a small room, praying at an ofrenda. A guard stands by the doors until the two of them leave to the elevator. Once the woosh of the elevator resonates through the quiet hallway, you make your way into the room.

How cliche, you think, moving a medium-sized picture frame to reveal the safe hidden behind it. You work quickly, turning the knob around and around, until at last, you hear a soft click. Rubies, emeralds, diamonds, gold chains–millions of dollars worth of jewels all in this little safe.

The smile on your face is wide as you quickly take out a folded-up, velvet pouch from your clutch to stuff as much as you can inside. If you exit the same way you came in, you should be able to escape before anyone catches you. With the jewelry secured, you exit the room and start walking back to the bar.

Your panties are wet and the tips of your breasts are hard as they rub against your dress. With how perfect this score is going, you’ll be able to keep some of the pieces and sell the others, making a small fortune for yourself. Thank God I remembered to charge my toy–

Just as you turn the corner into the bar, a hand shoots out and wraps around your mouth, silencing you. It happens way too fast that you’re not able to strike or even reach for the knife in your purse.

“Shhh, relájate.” [relax]

You know that voice, crave that voice. Of course Alejandro is here, you think. He slides his hand away from your mouth and pushes you until your back is pressed to the wall. His face is covered in a balaclava, but you immediately recognize his signature cologne. A jolt of excitement goes up your spine as he removes the mask from your face.

“Are you here to stop me?” you ask Alejandro, placing a hand on his chest.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop stealing, nena?”

You roll your eyes playfully, tugging on his tie. “Why would I listen to you? And why are you dressed like that?”

Alejandro looks down at his suit, which is the same as the security guards. “I’m supposed to be undercover. But imagine my surprise when I see you, slipping past the guards and climbing up a balcony. Tell me,” he says, grabbing the velvet bag from your hands, “is this necessary?”

“A girl’s gotta eat.”

He tsks, bringing his body closer to yours and pressing his erection against your lower belly. “How can I work, how can I stay focused when you’re running around in this little dress?”

You whimper, feeling his thigh push between your legs and press right on your dripping pussy. “You like my dress?”

The bags drop to the floor with a soft thud as Alejandro grips your waist, rocking you into his thigh. You bring your hands up and pull the mask just above the tip of his nose so you can mold your mouth to his. You moan into the kiss, tasting whiskey on his tongue.

His hand drags your dress up and over your hips, exposing the scrap of lace panties. You tug on his tie until it loosens and unbutton the first few buttons on his dress shirt. Even in the almost darkness, you can see the glitter of a familiar gold chain around his neck.

You touch it with light fingertips and rock faster on the hard muscle of his thigh. “You still wear the chain I gave you, Alejandro?”

He ignores your question and presses open mouthed kisses to your neck. “You should be more careful. I was able to catch you quickly.”

“Yeah, but–oh, oh–” you stammer, feeling Alejandro’s fingers slip through your panties, “you always catch me. Don’t you, baby?”

I always catch you, Alejandro murmurs, pressing his lips to yours again. He curves two thick fingers inside of you, gently thrusting them, opening you up. You stifle a moan and bring a hand up to cover your mouth. The last thing you want is for your fun to get rudely interrupted by one of El Sin Nombre’s men.

You bounce on his fingers as he slides deeper with the help of your dripping arousal. That’s it, mami, he whispers, plunging them faster, my pretty little thief. Maybe it’s because you’ve been slick with excitement since the moment you got here, or maybe it’s because Alejandro is so good with his fingers, that you cum right into the palm of his large hand. The orgasm hits you with such intensity that you shake in his hold, a few whimpers escaping your mouth.

“Shh, hermosa,” he coos, “you don’t want them to find us right?”

You let out another whimper and clench around his fingers in the last moments of your orgasm. You’re not quite sure what drew you to this life. The money? The jewels? Every single aspect of it excites you, especially the danger that comes with this line of work. Alejandro removes his fingers slowly and with a snap, he rips off your panties.

“Hey–”

“You can afford to buy new ones,” he interrupts. He takes a step back to wipe his fingers on your now ripped panties then stuffs them in his pocket. “I’m going to help you escape but you need to promise me–”

“Wait, wait,” you whisper, reaching for him, “what about you? Come on, Alejandro. Live a little.”

He lets you bring him in closer, shaking his head but not stopping you from undoing his belt buckle. You grab his cock and give it a few pumps, swiping your thumb over the precum that drips from his tip. Alejandro wraps your leg around his waist and moves your hand to position himself at your slick entrance.

“Quédate callada,” he orders. [Keep quiet]

You nod quickly, wanting him inside of you. Just as he thrusts in, you hear the ding of the elevator. Someone is on the second floor. You deflate, knowing that Alejandro will stop and lead you out through the balcony doors, since now the two of you are about to be interrupted. He’s not the type to take these kinds of risks–but, he surprises you. Alejandro keeps going, rocking a little faster into you.

Voices approach slowly from the hallway. You pray they don’t enter the bar, not when Alejandro keeps bumping into that perfect spongy spot inside of you. His fingers make delicious indents on your thigh from how hard he grabs you. You don’t trust yourself to not make noise so you press your mouth to his, allowing him to swallow your moans.

“Looks like the door to the ofrenda is open,” one of the guards says, “let's check it out.”

“Naughty girl,” Alejandro whispers, “did you not clean up your mess?”

You want to answer, want to tell Alejandro that of course you didn’t leave any prints behind and of course you put everything back where it was found. You just forgot to close the door in your excitement. But you don’t say anything, more focused on how deep Alejandro gets with each stroke.

“Everything looks good, let's keep going,” the other guard says.

Alejandro fucks you a little harder into the wall, moving a hand to swipe at your clit. You hear the footsteps approaching and wonder, even in your aroused hazed, what changed in Alejandro. In the few times he’s caught you, he’ll bring you to his Jeep or back to his home if you let him. But never has he been so animalistic in his need to fuck you in one of the places you’re stealing from.

“You like this–don’t you?” Alejandro whispers, “You like h–how crazy I get for you?”

Your nails dig into his large biceps for support and you squeeze your pussy tighter around him. He snakes his hand under your knee, pushing up to spread you further. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the flashlights approaching.

You feel the familiar licks of heat at the base of your spine. You’re so, so, so close to cumming again. Each slide of his thick cock stretches you to your limit, causing your pussy to flutter and gush around him. You press your nose to his neck and inhale. He smells yummy like Baccarat Rouge 540 and salty sweat. The guards pause at the entryway of the bar, shining their flashlights.

“Did you hear that?” one of them asks.

Alejandro slows his thrusts, gathering more of your slick on his thumb to rub over your swollen bud. He can’t be fucking serious, you think to yourself, sinking your teeth hard in his bottom lip.

“The balcony is open, must be noise from outside.”

You rock back and forth on his cock, uncaring that the guard takes a step inside. His eyes pass over the room, barely missing the two of you.

“Sí, tienes razón. Let’s go to the third floor.” [you’re right]

The moment Alejandro hears them ascend the stairs, he slides out and plunges back in. He sets a jackhammer pace, reminding you to keep quiet, nena, even though it feels like he’s splitting you in two. One more swipe of his thumb and you’re twitching in his arms, falling into the abyss as an orgasm washes over you.

It’s warm and mind-numbing, thrilling, and so incredibly risky. Alejandro is barely able to stifle his groan as his thrusts become clumsy and he spills inside of you. You constrict and squeeze tightly around his length, milking every last drop from his cock.

He’s so strong, holding the both of you up while you catch your breath. Alejandro slowly pulls out, whimpering slightly from the sensitivity. He has you stay pressed on the wall while he grabs napkins to clean you up. Once he makes sure you’re okay, he fixes his clothes and grabs your purse and the velvet bag from the floor.

“¿Estás bien?” he asks, wiping the sweat away from your collarbones. “Think you can jump down from the balcony? Or do you want to try the elevator?” [Are you okay?]

“N–no, I can do it.”

You stumble slightly but right yourself, gripping your possessions tightly. You climb down from the balcony on unsteady feet, feeling the breeze on your now exposed bottom. The small courtyard is still empty, luckily, and you see a side door that leads to the exit from the house.

Alejandro drops down beside you, looking normal and as if he didn’t just rearrange your insides not even five minutes ago. “Be careful, okay? Text me when you get home. No puedo irme–” [I can’t leave–]

You reach up a hand to caress his covered face. “I know, you have work to do. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

After one more kiss on his cheek, you turn and jog towards the side door and open it. You take a look around and find no one at the front of the house. You look back, lifting your hand to wave at Alejandro, and leave. It takes a little longer to find your car, as your thighs feel sore and the bag you’re carrying is heavy.

You knew your score would go well, you just didn’t think it would go this well. You keep your promise to Alejandro. The moment you get safely home you strip out of your dress and put on one of the ruby necklaces. You snap a photo of yourself, the necklace and your peaked nipples perfectly in frame. It only takes thirty seconds for Alejandro to respond.

You: [Image sent]

home :)

11:56 P.M.

Alejandro: Hermosa. My pretty little thief. Stay out of trouble, okay?

11:56 P.M.

Absolutely no promises.

Title inspired by the song "Chulo pt.2" by Bad Gyal, Tokischa, and Young Miko.

#Amor a Alejandro #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas x female reader #alejandro vargas smut #cod x reader #cod mw2 x female reader #alejandro vargas #cod mw2 smut #shadowlali

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hiraya-rawr · 1 year

Text

dear osmanthus — zhongli .

synopsis !! after a traumatizing experience with treasure hoarders in your little rural teahouse, you find comfort in your regular customer and dear friend, Zhongli.

contains !! gn reader, preferably minors dni, tw // recovery from s.a., trauma response, intimacy, hurt/comfort!! some brief mature scenes but general sfw. father figure/familial zhongli! "darling" as pet name! protective zhongli out for vengeance. READ WITH CAUTION even if this is milder than other dark contents :>

note !! this is definitely one of the heavier works ill be posting here, but i did try to steer away from descriptive scenes. this has lotsa platonic intimacy tho! enough to make lovers jealous but you can take it as romantic too i guess?

Tossing, turning, the sheets tangled with your form. It's hot. It's cold—

It's closing time in the teahouse. The counters have been wiped and the floors have been swept, you only need to lock up. Perhaps if you had locked the doors first then you could have prevented everything.

You remember this scene. A crash, a bang, a group entering -rowdy and intimidating- pushing you back behind the counter. Then a rope, some laughter (not yours), mora being taken out of the register. It clinks and clanks into their pockets and pouches.

You're compliant— quiet and trying your best to be calm. You knew the odds of you, a rural teahouse owner, winning against a group of treasure hoarders and you didn't want to try your luck. Let them take the mora, the pretty wall decor, your best tea set— and tomorrow, you'll make a report to the Millelith. That was the plan you conjured as you tried not to shake in fear.

Then—

"Hey boss–" A skinny treasure hoarder tugs at the older, larger man. Leaning close to mutter something, "—The owner looks kinda cute."

The boss turns to you, eyes staring you down. Your stomach drops at the grin that spreads on his face.

"Aye, they do, don't they?"

"No!—"

"—No!"

You jolt up from bed, a scream at the tip of your tongue. Breath stuck. You choke from nothing. The dream felt so real. Their gazes, looking down on you.

Your blanket pooled around your waist from when you sat up. It felt heavy, like it was holding you down- holding you down- holding you down- You quickly shoved it away, kicking it off your legs and feet until it hanged on the edge of your bed.

The lost of a blanket made the room feel colder.

You stared at it, for archon's sake! it's just a blanket!

A sob echoed in the room. You realize it's your own noise. It's your despair that has repeatedly climbed up your throat over and over again, causing so much noise in the quiet of your room. Bringing your knees closer to your chest and hiding your eyes behind your palms, you give yourself a moment to cry.

A bird chirps by the window and little rays of morning sun peeks through the blinds. Time to start the day.

•

The teahouse was always busy during brunch. Today was no different— with groups of grandparents huddling in after their morning tai chi, merchants and their goods parked outside, little kids sent to buy some bread and maybe a sweet bao for themselves— the teahouse might as well be blessed by Rex Lapis himself.

It's comforting. You love mornings like these, accustomed to the early rush, but the talking grows noisier, their gazes are on you, you hear footsteps, you feel the crowd, calm down, calm down—

"Good morning, mister Zhongli. The usual?"

You greet the gentleman as he settles in his usual spot. A small table and tall chair by a corner, windows overlooking the mountains of Liyue.

"Good morning, darling. That would be most appreciated." He smiles back, a warm smile and you can't help but think how much it resembles the sweet grandparents on the next table. Honestly, Zhongli should value his youth more. What bachelor would spend his mornings in a rural teahouse with an old traditional book?

You come back with a pot of osmanthus tea and a plate of steamed buns. He's turning the pages of his book.

"Here you are."

"Hm? Is this the usual serving for baozi?"

"The extra baozi is a treat for being a regular customer, but don't tell the other customers that." You grin with a wink and he chuckles deeply.

"Of course, it's only because the tea here is exceptional that I keep coming back."

"Then I'll leave you to enjoy the meal. Ring the bell should you need anything."

•

"Uh three mantou, one congee–"

"Make that two congee."

"—Two congee, the pickled vegetable kind, not the meat, and umm shrimp dumplings—"

You're trying to be polite. You're nodding your head, listing down the orders. There's nothing wrong with the group, really, it's just that the group of men are taking too long. Their orders are repetitive and your list is full of erasures, they're a little robust, a little too loud, but it's nothing new in the service industry.

Then—

"How many pieces of mantou did I order again?" One of them stands up, slightly, from his seat. He's taller than the rest, he looms over you. You're sure he doesn't mean to, he looks kind, but his hand grabs at your upper arm, pulling you towards him, peeking at your list of their orders.

He grabbed you. He's grabbing you. His hand is on you and he pulled you and you went along with the force all too easily, so pliant to a show of strength, and all of a sudden—

"Hey, hey, hold 'em down,"

"Stop struggling–"

There's an arm around you. A hand on you. Another hand. Someone's knee presses on your thigh. You're struggling but you're not moving and it's surreal how futile your efforts are.

"Cutie's a little feisty." One says and it scares you how casually it's said; Like a passing comment on the road; Like a joke, but you're not laughing.

Before you knew it, you've shoved your customer away, his expression a mix of shock and confusion as you turn to the back door of the teahouse.

Some people turn their heads but most continued to eat, unfazed by the odd commotion, with the exception of a pair of amber eyes following your form out the door.

"Did I do something wrong?" The customer mumbles aloud, his friends shrug to themselves, "I think I should go after them-"

"Please allow me." Zhongli approaches the group, "I happen to be a friend of theirs. They haven't been feeling well lately, having a customer check up on them would only make them feel conflicted."

"I suppose you're right. . . I leave it to you, then."

•

You're heaving, hunched over the grass and trying to keep back what you had for breakfast down your throat. It's dizzying and you can't seem to stop the spontaneous shivers wracking through your body.

What have you done? To shove aside a customer over- over this? You have to turn back and apologize— did they notice? Did the whole restaurant have their eyes on you? You can't bare the thought of being so overly exposed.

You hear your name from a familiar voice behind you.

"There, there, it's alright, child."

The voice is grounding, gentle and calm. Not at all like the obnoxious laughter of those men, their disgusting suggestions and—

"You're alright now, there, there."

"Oh, mister Zhongli," You didn't mean to sob his name but it escapes you anyway, your arms reach out to wrap around his middle. His presence grounds you, like an unwavering rock when the water currents try to drown you. He reciprocates your hug, gently laying his arms around you, rubbing your back. "It's– it's not always like this," You stutter out, "Most days, I barely think of it. Most days, I don't mind this."

He nods along in understanding. Nevermind that you could be referring to anything else, he just understands.

"It's alright to feel this way," He holds you with a slight sway to his movements, comforting, calming, "You have every reason to break down, my dear. You didn't deserve what happened to you—"

He continues his soft reassurances, lulling you with his voice, wrapping you in arms that feel safe.

A soft bed, the quiet atmosphere of Bubu Pharmacy surrounds you.

"Are you alright?"

"Mister Zhongli. . .? What happened. . ."

He sits back, worried, "What was the last thing you remember, dear?"

"I was. . . closing the teahouse and then–" the men. You remember the men. You're breathing harder now, holding back the overwhelming feelings of disgust and helplessness and–

Zhongli is calm as he comforts you. He goes over the events carefully, how the Millelith came and apprehended the situation, how he just so happened to be there, lucky enough to accompany you to the Pharmacy Clinic. It's unfortunate but some of the men escaped. He holds your hand as he says this.

You don't remember the whirlwind of events (neither do you wish to remember). A fight happened, perhaps. You can imagine the Millelith storming in, the panic of your assailants, the dark of the night sky as you're whisked away for first aid, and Zhongli staying by your side the entire time.

"Thank you. . . for comforting me." You tell him, finally parting slowly from the embrace, "I think I'm feeling okay now. I have to apologize to the customer."

"I told them that you're feeling unwell today, they would understand if you take a leave for now and let your employees handle the rest."

"Should I?" You glance up worriedly, he nods in assurance.

"Yes, just take a rest for now." He smiles, it's warm and again, grounding.

"It seems you're always here when I need you to, mister Zhongli."

There's a flicker in his eyes. A sad look, almost regretful, "If I had arrived with the Millelith a little sooner. . . "

You sigh quietly, not out of disappointment towards him, but in the face of reality, "You did what you can and I'm more than grateful. After all, we are not gods. . . we are simply humans," Turning your head away from him, you stare up at the sky, "I can only hope that the gods would take care of the rest of them."

"I hope so as well. . ."

note !! *looks at upcoming works* yup, lots of platonic intimacy there. i joined the Zhongli fandom for hot daddy— ended up staying for wholesome grandpa <3

do tell me what you think of this fic! I tried a different writing process for it so :>

masterlist 2 // commissions // ko-fi

bonus scene —

zhongli doesn't mean to worry you. he really didn't plan on it, but he can't exactly explain to the millelith what happened to the remaining treasure hoarders, right? the stone forests of liyue are the perfect hideout for wanted criminals, not even moonlight could filter through the thick trees. mortals would find it difficult to traverse the rocky and rich terrain, hence why the millelith would avoid the place.

It's the geo archon's territory after all.

"Ah, so here's the rest of you." Zhongli says, a calm smile on his face, "I must say, you're rather unlucky compared to your friends who were caught. They must be sitting peacefully in their cells right now."

The group turns to him in confusion, the dark of the night makes it difficult to see the gentleman dressed in brown, but his piercing amber eyes strikes them like a predator watching their prey.

"Hey! Who are you?" One of them calls out, annoyed.

"Unimportant. But I suggest you run."

"What?"

Pupils turn to slits. Amber eyes glow brighter. And for a split second, if you focus really hard, the face of a dragon stares back.

"Run."

taglist !! @absolut-wildflower @boundedbyfate @sadlonelybagel @eissaaaa @ladycoleigh @nejibot @milkypompon @bloodreaper08 @irethepotato @x-zho @roriver @mich-cola @mxsomn @ackrylik @nicebonescomrade @starforecasts @stygianoir @yuminako @eccedentesiast-sapphic @nebulaera @nuttytani @klutzkat @stygianoir14 @shizunxie @bluriie @aestellia @abyislan08

#zhongli #zhongli x reader #genshin zhongli #genshin #genshin impact #zhongli x you #yandere zhongli #genshin impact x reader #genshin familial #genshin found family #father figure zhongli #genshin angst/comfort #genshin angst #genshin hurt/comfort #tw sa #tw

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 2 years

Text

Coming Home (Part Fourteen)

Azriel x Reader.

Ahhhh, brace yourselves. This is a big one, folks. A storm is a’brewin’.

Happy Halloween!

Warnings: SMUTSMUTSMUT 🌶️🥵

⧪

You woke the next morning with a blanket draped over your body – and a leaden weight on your shoulders, in your heart.

You felt…numb. And not numb at all. Achingly empty and yet so full, you couldn’t possibly cram any more inside your head. Restless, like you wanted to run and run and not stop; where, you weren’t sure.

After the argument with Elain the day before, Az had spent the day plying you with tea and mindless, easy conversation. You knew precisely what he’d been doing – keeping a close eye on you, sensing that you were teetering on the edge of something catastrophic. But not once did he raise any of the pressing subjects that were dragging on you.

Not once did he acknowledge the total shit show that was your life, and your relationships with everyone in it.

How could you face Starfall that night, when everything had piled on top of you so suddenly? When you felt a few steps away from a total fucking break? You wandered up to your bedroom, staring around the cold, empty area that, it seemed, no personal effects could fill or warm. It lacked life, lacked spirit.

You…you lacked life, you realised. Lacked spirit.

Returning to Velaris hadn’t been what you’d thought or hoped it would be. The initial reunions had been euphoric, of course, but it had taken a while for you to realise something that now seemed blindingly obvious.

You couldn’t be happy here – not right now. Couldn’t be happy anywhere, in fact, because you just weren’t happy, fullstop.

And it wasn’t just the situation that existed between you and Azriel. It was bigger than that, more than that. This thing went back years, had started long before you were old enough to harbour romantic feelings. It was a sickness, of sorts…a plague. A hatred. For yourself.

You stared in the mirror, not recognising one bit of the person that stared back at you. Had you ever been happy, even in those small moments of light? When your big brother had simply doted on his little sister, and it had nothing to do with him being a High Lord or ruling a court?

Had you ever had a chance to be happy?

Your father had hated you from your first breath to his last one. He’d told you what you’d become – a disappointment, a burden – and somehow, in your attempts to avoid those very things, you had, indeed, become them.

And travelling, seeing the world, had been nothing more than a ruse to get away. Because you’d thought, perhaps, that being away from the people who saw you for what you truly were, reinventing yourself every time you went someplace new, would somehow fill that chasm that lived inside of you.

Bandages. You’d just slapped bandage over bandage over bandage, and now they were all fraying, exposing your wounds, and you were losing the fight against them.

You never should have come home. Should never have turned up on your brother’s doorstep, shattered pieces of your soul in tow, and hoped that no one would notice how broken you truly were.

Home. Where even was that for you? You weren’t sure you had one. A place where you felt at peace, and whole…content and wanted and loved–

A thought struck you like a ton of bricks.

Frowning, you strode over to your dresser, pulling the drawers open and rifling through one by one. It had to be in this room somewhere – you knew you’d carried it everywhere with you and brought it back to Velaris with you; a tiny little keepsake you never wanted to lose.

Buried in the bottom of your armoire, tucked into a coin pouch, you found it.

The edges were torn, the colouring yellowed – the note was sixty years old, now, but you treasured it as much as the day its author had handed it to you.

A young, new High Lord who had been just twenty years of age and thrust into a daunting role, with views and opinions so aligned with your own, with a zest for goodness and peace. Your time spent in his company was, perhaps, the only time you’d felt true happiness. The only time you hadn’t thought something was missing from your heart.

You unfolded the note, smiling down at the neat handwriting. It gave you the comfort you absolutely needed in that moment.

I wish you weren’t leaving us, but should you ever travel this way again, or you simply want to come and play with us, you’re always welcome in the Summer Court. I’m deeply indebted to you for your counsel and friendship these past months. Don’t forget about me, Lady of the Night. Warm regards, always – Tarquin.

Tarquin. What a light he had been, in those few months you’d spent in Adriata, soaking in the sun and tasting the wine and helping a young male who was absolutely terrified of the responsibility that had been placed on his shoulders. You’d never returned to the Summer Court after you’d left – though you’d always sworn you wanted to – and only ten years later, they’d been trapped Under the Mountain.

Maybe you should have returned to Adriata, rather than Velaris. Maybe there, you would have sorted yourself out instead of spiralling.

Maybe it wasn’t too late to do so.

You weren’t sure. But with that little, folded note in view, you felt the slightest easing of the weight on your shoulders.

You gathered yourself together, did what you were supposed to do and began to get ready for Starfall.

But as you did, your thoughts were far, far away, on crystal blue waters and sandstone palaces.

⧪

“You wished to see me?”

The House of Wind had been rapidly filling up since the sun had begun to set over the city. Azriel and Cassian had flown back and forth, transporting the guests from the ground, up into the house where the celebrations were already underway, drinks and conversation flowing. Az had made true on his word to fly Killian up there, and the poor male was currently being pelted with questions from both Mor and Feyre.

And Rhys — Rhys had summoned you to this pokey little office to have a private chat.

He looked up at you, taking in the dress Az had bought you, your hair and makeup that you’d somehow found the will to perfect. His mouth kicked up into a soft smile. “You look beautiful.”

“As do you.” And he did — a true vision of the Night Court high lord. You stayed standing. “Why did you summon me here?”

“I know we agreed not to discuss anything too pressing until after Starfall, but…” He pursed his lips. “I wanted to check on you, see how you were doing after yesterday. After…”

You folded your arms. “After Elain suddenly decided she had a backbone? I’m fine. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve coaxed a cat’s claws out. If she keeps it up, she may actually start to look like she fits into this court.”

Rhys’s eyes closed. You watched as he pressed two fingers to each temple, gently massaging the area. A long, deep sigh was dragged from his lips. Like he was trying — and failing — to stifle his temper.

“What is it, Rhys?” You pressed.

Those violet eyes flickered as he glanced up at you. “Elain shouldn’t have behaved how she did yesterday — and I’ve made that clear to her. But you…I need you to have some compassion.”

“Compassion? Compassion for what?”

“Elain has suffered some terrible things—“

Your barked, incredulous laugh swallowed up his words. You shook your head. “I cannot believe we’re having this conversation right now.”

So he hadn’t summoned you here to check on your well-being —- but rather, to ask you to be kinder to Elain. If you weren’t already feeling so empty, so checked out, you may have actually screamed.

“Elain isn’t like you, Y/N.” Rhys said. “She doesn’t have your resilience. She isn’t brave, or confident, or—“

“If you truly believe that I am those things,” Your eyes met his, “then you do not know me at all, brother.”

For just a moment, he stared back at you. His brow furrowed, and his mouth became taut — like he was trying to puzzle you out, trying to find some semblance of the person he’d once known. But he wouldn’t find it; he seemed to realise that as he sat up in his chair.

“What is going on with you?” He demanded. “Since you came back to Velaris, it’s like—like you’ve been on a downward spiral. You’re acting out, pushing everyone away. And you’ve always been stubborn, and outspoken, perhaps a bit brash at times…but unkind? You’ve never been unkind. And yesterday—“

“Yesterday was not supposed to go the way that it did.” You pressed your lips together. “I simply wanted to talk to Elain, and I regret what I said to her when things got heated. But the way she’s acted, Rhys, the whole time I’ve been here…I can’t just sit back and ignore it.”

“She’s been through a lot—“

“And what about what I’ve been through?!” You snapped so suddenly, you shocked even yourself. You slammed your hands down on the desk, begging your eyes not to well up with tears. “What about what I’ve suffered?”

Rhys blinked at you. “I don’t know a thing about what you’ve been through because you haven’t told me.”

“You haven’t asked!” You needed to move, needed to get out of there before you truly lost it, but you couldn’t force your feet into action. “Nearly an entire fucking century I was away, and you haven’t even asked what I’ve been through. Whether I’m okay.”

“Y/N—“

“I’m not, Rhys. I’m not okay at all.” You hated, hated so much, that your voice cracked. “I’m broken. So fucking broken, I’m not even sure I can piece myself back together. I’m lonely. Bruised. And I’m so fucking tired!”

“You—“

“I saw death — out there, in the world. So much death, so much violence, it will never leave me. I may not have been trapped under that mountain with you, but I was still trapped. Trapped inside my head, moving from place to place and trying to find somewhere that I might actually feel whole. Somewhere I could become someone you would be proud of. And I tried to be that person…tried to learn things and help people and make things better, but I can’t do that because I’m the problem! So while you all assumed I was just galavanting around the world and having a merry fucking time, I was drowning. Suffocating.”

Rhys’s eyes were pleading, now, the colour so stark, you could be forgiven for thinking he was crying. “I don’t — I’ve never known how to help you, Y/N. I’ve always sensed something was wrong. I know that you went through a lot. Our father damaged you…and Tamlin’s father…and then Azriel…”

Just like that — just like that, you went so very, very still. A chill skittered through you like claws caressing your insides.

The words were the slap that Elain had failed to land.

“What,” you said bluntly, “does Azriel have to do with this?”

Rhys sat back in his chair. Squared his shoulders. The pitying gaze in his eyes made you feel sick to your stomach. And you…you felt smaller than ever.

You felt just as you had when you were a child. When Rhys would kneel down before you, to speak to you at eye-level. When he would soften his features and speak so gently, because you were his little sister — somewhat more like a daughter to the young male barely out of his adolescence — and he would do anything, anything to protect you.

Where had that relationship gone? That ferocious love? Had you, the hate and anger that ate you up from the inside, destroyed it?

“…it’s why you left, right?” He said quietly. “Because you were in love with Az — and he was in love with Mor. Anyone with half a brain cell could see it.”

Your eyes shuttered. No. You couldn’t talk about this. Not with him. Azriel had pushed you away for Rhys. To preserve his feelings — to keep to his loyalty for his friend, his brother, his High Lord.

And Rhys had known the whole fucking time? Had sat back and kept his mouth shut, like watching some shitty love triangle from a shitty romance novel play out? Like the whole thing was petty and meaningless, something you would have just gotten over with age?

And then he’d let you go out into the world, let you try to run from your feelings, straight into ones that were so much worse. So much lonelier. He’d let you build up such a guard, such a hatred.

And yet he was here, wanting you to be kinder to Elain.

You couldn’t stay here. In Velaris. There was no possible way you could stay here.

“I…” You spoke with dangerous calm. “I am not having this conversation with you, Rhysand. This ends here.”

“Y/N—“

But you were already turning your back on him, wrenching the door open. “Enjoy your night, brother.”

⧪

Churned up though you were, you decided to stay — for Starfall.

In some useless hope that the stars would zip by and carry your problems away. Maybe even carry you away.

Somehow, you floated around, drinking and dancing and socialising as if absolutely nothing were wrong. As if you weren’t a high fever about to break. A volcano seconds from erupting.

You’d given Killian sweet smiles that didn’t reach your eyes and pretty laughs that tasted sour in your mouth. You pretended to enjoy yourself — and when Killian plucked up the courage to talk to Rhys and Cassian, his eyes alight with utter awe at them — you felt relieved for the break. For the opportunity to drop your smile for a few moments.��

But it was too noisy. Too much. Everyone had gathered on the main balcony once the sky’s displays had started, and you felt crowded, suffocated. Too hot and too boxed in.

With their faces tilted up at the sky, nobody thankfully noticed as you slipped away and went in search of some solitude. You quietly wandered inside, taking the staircase up to the roof that was unoccupied and just the right amount of quiet, even with the bustle of voices and music still audible from below.

You felt closer to the passing stars up here. Close enough to reach out just past the railing and touch. They seemed to dance around you, in front of you, cartwheeling their way through the endless expanse of night sky, and you couldn’t…couldn’t help wondering if perhaps one of those passing souls was your mother. Floating around you. Watching over you.

Couldn’t help wondering what she would think of you now.

Only when the door opened behind you did you realise you were crying. You jumped at the sudden intrusion, attempting to shield your face, to dab at the tears without completely destroying the artwork of makeup you’d painted onto yourself. Perhaps Killian had peeled away from your brother’s side and come looking for you. Perfect, you thought — you wanted distraction, to feel something or nothing, to feel reckless and dangerous and light on your feet—

“What happened.”

The question was dark, blunt — almost a snarl. Not Killian at all. Azriel shut the door to the roof behind him, and he was by your side in a couple of great strides, prising your hand from your face.

“What happened?” He repeated. “Has Kameron upset you?”

You couldn’t help but snort — albeit weakly, pathetically — dabbing your eyes. “His name is Killian.”

“…I really do not give a shit.”

No, you didn’t doubt that at all. Anyone glimpsing the Shadowsinger tonight may have merely seen his usual guardedness, but you knew him better than that. He didn’t like Killian, and he wasn’t pretending to. He’d barely breathed a word while Rhys and Cassian had plied the sweet male with questions.

“He didn’t upset me.” You said, leaning against the railing. “I’m just…reflecting, I suppose.”

“Reflecting.”

You could feel Azriel’s intense stare on you. He mirrored your position, bracing both arms on the railing and letting it support his weight. And gods, every bit of it — it was so much like that last Starfall. So much like that night that changed everything. The two of you alone together, the night sky a burst of brilliant shapes and sounds and colours. Your bodies brushing side-by-side. A host of unspoken words weighing on your tongue.

And you were…you were older. Obviously. And different. You just really weren’t sure, anymore, that the difference was a good one.

Az hadn’t torn his eyes from your face once; even with the exquisite sights that were happening right there, close enough to touch.

He angled his body towards you, the warmth of him brushing your bare arm. “What is going on in that head of yours?”

Good question. You wanted to laugh, to ask him if he had a spare millennia to puzzle out your complicated thoughts with you. But you merely focused on a passing star, your brow pinching.

“…Do you think she’d be proud of me?” You asked, your voice far smaller than you’d intended. “My mother, I mean.”

Azriel seemed surprised by the question — such a rare thing to catch him off guard. He blinked, frowned, and then touched your arm with a feather-like gentleness.

“Of course she would.” His voice was soft, quiet. “Why would you even ask that?”

Slowly, you shook your head. “…I don’t think I would be, if I were her. Proud. I don’t think she’d— “

Your words were cut off as Az’s rough hand suddenly gripped your chin. He turned your face to his, his jaw ticking as he stared down at you with that molten intensity in his gaze.

“I think she’d have more pride than she’d know what to do with.” He said. “I think she’d see how brilliant, how compassionate, how strong you are, and she’d know that no matter what, she wouldn’t have to worry. That somehow, no matter how bad things may seem, you would always be alright.”

Your eyes shuttered. You couldn’t stare at him — not like this. Not this close, with such words leaving his lips. It was easy to remember why you’d bridged that gap all those years ago and acted on your feelings. How simple, how second-nature it had been, to lean forward and kiss him.

You couldn’t make that mistake again. Not…not after everything. Not with everything else to contend with.

So you simply whispered “thank you”, and gently pulled your face from his grasp, angling yourself forward again.

He didn’t leave, like you half expected him to. He sidled closer to you, his arm pressing against yours, and you welcomed the warmth, the comfort, that he — and his wings — provided.

“You don’t have to keep me company up here, you know.” You smiled softly — I’ll be leaving soon enough anyway, was what you didn’t add. “You should go back and join the fun.”

“I think I’d rather be up here.” His eyes tracked a passing star, its light bringing out the flecks of green and brown that made up the hazel. “Besides — I think your lover is still drooling over Rhys.”

You rolled your eyes. But you were thankful for the lighter turn in conversation, the jesting in his tone. It felt good — normal. “He’s not my lover.”

“No?” He angled towards you again. “You fucked him. Isn’t that what a lover is?”

“I’m not sure it really counts if you didn’t get to cum.”

Az stared at you — and then threw his head back, and laughed. A great bellow of a laugh that was so at odds with his usual quiet, you couldn’t help grinning at the sound, the sight of his eyes crinkling at the edges.

“You’re not going to let that go, are you?” He smiled — a gods-damn breathtaking smile.

You shrugged. “Nope. Such an affront leaves one very frustrated.”

“Hmm, I’m sure.”

He pushed away from the railing, his feet falling into slow, relaxed steps around you. You wondered, for a moment, what exactly he was doing — whether he was returning to the party after all.

But then you felt the warmth of him at your back. The solid press of his body flush to yours, as he seemed to enclose you against that railing, the span of his wings cocooning you both from the rest of the world.

“Perhaps I need to make up for it, then.” He said. His voice was a deep, delicious rasp.

Your entire body had gone taut. You couldn’t move, couldn’t think — weren’t even sure you were breathing as your hands tightened on the railing. Every bit of Az was overpowering you in the most addictive way, his potent, spicy scent filling your nose, the warmth and hardness of his body holding yours upright, the fanning of his breath against the nape of your neck. He was tall enough to rest his chin atop your head, but he instead dipped it, angling it down.

His lips brushed your bare shoulder in a barely-there caress, and you sucked in a sharp breath. Tried to remember why this was a bad idea.

“This fucking dress.” He murmured, repeating the action with a slightly firmer press. As he did so, he snaked an arm around you, his hand brushing your navel.

Your eyes fluttered shut. “I…” You cleared your throat. “I thought you liked this dress.”

“I do. Perhaps too much.”

His lips ghosted along your shoulder again, moving further, further, up the column of your neck, where he seemed to settle. He pressed a gentle kiss behind your ear, and you released a shaky breath.

“…Az…” You whispered, letting your head fall back. “…what are you doing? What about…what about everything you said?”

With that one hand still rubbing light circles into your navel, he raised the other to your shoulder, toying with the strap of your dress.

“Maybe,” He murmured, “everything I said was what I thought I should say. Not what I wanted to say.” That hand on your stomach dipped slightly lower. “And maybe I’m tired of doing what I should over what I want.”

“…is that why you’ve been so different these past couple of weeks? The notes…the flirting…”

His hand inched lower, lower still. Now dancing just over where your waistband lay. “Maybe our conversation in Windhaven made me realise things. Made me realise that I want to be more than just the Spymaster. Want to feel more than just my duty. Maybe seeing Lucien defend you yesterday made me understand how I’d failed you.” Another light brushing of his lips. “I want…I want to feel alive, Y/N. And nobody makes me feel that quite like you do.”

You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think— “Oh.” Was all you managed to whisper.

“Oh, indeed.” He hummed. Pressed another kiss behind your ear. “Do you want me to stop, Y/N?”

Panic bleated somewhere far away inside you…because how could this be happening now, when you’d reached your breaking point? When it felt too late?

But if he stopped, you may just grab him by his wings and launch him off the roof. You…you could have this, couldn’t you? Mindless pleasure for the sake of it? A distraction from the fact that you were sinking?

Yes, you decided. You could.

You placed a hand against his, pressing it against you, as if to prove your point. You could have sworn he laughed.

“No.” You ground out. “I don’t want you to stop.”

“Thank fuck for that.”

Before you could register his movements, he was spinning you in his arms. Your back was pressed against the railings, and he gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“I cannot tell whether I want to stare at you in this dress or rip it off you.”

And then he was kissing you.

Hard, hungry, passionate. The railing was bitingly cold against the skin of your back, and yet every part of you was warm. You opened your mouth on a gasp, and he slipped his tongue inside, the taste of him — of the fruity drink he’d been nursing — drawing a moan from your throat.

His other hand — the one that wasn’t gripping your face — moved down and down until his fingers were skirting the hem of your dress and the skin of your thigh, the brush of his calluses a delicious scrape that you wanted to feel on every part of your body. He kissed you harder, exploring every inch of your mouth he could get to, and slowly began to lift the hem of your dress up.

You reached up, fisting the front of his shirt in your hand and attempting to yank him closer to you, harder against you, but you were stopped. He tore his lips from yours.

This, a horrible voice in your mind told you, is where he realises he fucked up and walks away. Again.

You stared up at him, your lips still tingling. A lick of worry rose in you—

But he smirked, his eyes studying your flushed cheeks, your swollen lips. His gaze seemed deeper, darker, somehow. You wanted to kiss him again, to taste him — but he stopped you as you leaned in.

“No.” He rasped. “I want to look at you while I give you that orgasm you didn’t get from Kristian.”

You gasped as his fingers brushed the lace of your underwear. “His name is Killian.”

“I know.”

Any suitable response quickly eddied from your mind as Az’s hand slipped past the waistband of your pretty, flimsy underwear. If he hadn’t already scented your strong arousal, he found it waiting for him as his fingers reached the gathering wetness at your centre.

“Fuck.” He growled. “You’re soaked.”

“Yes.” You breathed, pushing against his hand. “Because of you.”

The way he looked at you could have suggested that you’d given him the secret to eternal happiness. He bit his lip, his eyes locking with yours. And then dragged a finger right through your folds.

“Oh gods,” Your head fell back as his thumb pressed against that sweet spot at the apex of your thighs. He began to make slow, torturous circles, his other hand forcing your face back to his.

“Look at me.” He grunted, pressing down on the sensitive nub. “Don’t stop looking at me.”

He was…gods, he was perfect. You’d always known he was skilled, an expert with his hands — you’d seen him use them enough in training and in work. And you’d be totally fucking lying if you said you hadn’t imagined what else those brilliant hands could do, in the dead of night, when it was just you in your bed, your hand between your legs.

But this — the real thing? It put those heated fantasies to shame in an instant.

His eyes were locked with yours, tracking every one of your micro-expressions, the way your brow furrowed, how you kept alternating between pressing your lips together and allowing them to fall open, allowing a whole host of noises to fall from them. Not once did Az look away from you.

With his thumb still rubbing circles against your clit, he brushed a long finger through your wetness, dragging it slowly down towards your entrance. You bucked your hips towards him, practically begging him to slide that finger into you, and he released a deep, guttural laugh.

And then did exactly that.

“Fuck.” You gasped, your hips bucking again. “Oh, gods, Az.”

“Like that?” He’d stilled his hand — just to make sure you were comfortable. He couldn’t seem to resist leaning forward and kissing you once, quick, before he pulled back to stare at you again. “Feel good?”

“Yes. Fuck, yes, can you—“

His finger began moving inside you before you could complete your request. What started as a slow thrust quickly picked up, the pace of his thumb also increasing against your clit, and your head fell back once more as he slipped a second finger inside you. His free hand gripped the back of your neck, forcing your gaze back to his, and pure, feral need flashed in his eyes as he studied you.

It seemed to do something to him — watching you, maintaining eye contact, as his fingers thrust inside you, your release tightly coiling in your stomach. The whole world had melted away, and it was just the two of you, not even the passing stars able to compare to what you were feeling right then.

“Look at you,” Azriel ground out. “So fucking beautiful.”

“Gods,” You moaned, your hand clamping down on his wrist — simultaneously trying to slow and encourage his movements. It was too much, too incredible, and you could feel it unfurling rapidly. “Gods, I’m gonna—“

That was all you managed to get out before release barrelled through you, the words dying in your throat and becoming nothing more than staggering, breathless moans.

You’d never felt anything like it — never had a fucking orgasm like it. Like…like you were lightheaded and gasping for air, the world spinning around you. You swore you could see swirls and colours and shapes, as if the travelling stars had stopped right above you and Az and exploded, showering you in their shimmering dust and light.

Only then did you realise Az had gone completely still, his hand still in your underwear — and he, too, was staring up, up at the sky above you, and—

The stars were exploding directly above you. Raining down on you. Iridescent, glowing dust was falling onto your skin and in your hair. Never had you seen them do that before.

You didn’t know what was happening. Couldn’t think. All you were aware of was something rocking you to your very core, like the world was cleaving in two and making room for…for something else. Something more. You weren’t sure if the roof was truly trembling around you, or if that was just you, your body, your release—

Az tore his gaze from the sky and looked at you.

And there, in your soul, in your heart, in your thoughts, you felt it — a resounding snap. Like something clicking into place. Something taking residence in your entire being that felt old and new at the same time. And complete. So utterly complete.

The way Az was staring at you, his eyes wide and alarmed, his lips slightly parted — you knew he’d felt it, too. Felt that groundbreaking snap that was now burning and growing inside of you.

He pulled his fingers out of you. Eased his hand from your underwear. His mouth opened and closed around silent words as he took a simple step back, pure shock taking over his face. Like the shock he’d worn on the night of your return, but…more, somehow. Stronger.

“Fuck.” He choked out, and you swallowed.

You both knew exactly what this meant — could almost hear his shadows whispering around you: mates, mates, mates.

Az looked like he didn’t know whether to scream or laugh or cry or fly right out of there. His body had gone preternaturally still.

“Fuck.” Was all he said again.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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