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#Perhaps not all. Perhaps there's not even the feeling
5sospenguinqueen · 1 day
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Terrible Two | Max Verstappen x Hamilton! Reader
Summary: Lewis hates the idea of Max dating his sister. Not because he's overprotective but because he’s trying to save the younger driver from the insanity of his sister. Or the one where Y/N terrorises the Grid OFF the track and Max terrorises them ON the track.
Warnings: Swearing. Fluff. Not 2021.
Female reader with various faceclaims. Pics found on Pinterest.
Requested by @shelbyteller
Main Masterlist
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YourUserName just posted
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liked by maxverstappen1, georgerussell63 and others
YourUserName race day with my favourite hamilton (oh, and lewis was there too, i guess) 💚 tagged: roscoelovescoco, lewishamilton
9,457 comments
User 1 i live for the hamilton sibling shade
lewishamilton i miss how peaceful my life was before you were born
→ YourUserName i miss how peaceful my life was before i was born too
→ User2 oof, felt that
roscoelovescoco loves you aunty y/n
→ YourUserName and i love you my sweet boy. i’m already planning my next attempt to kidnap you
→ User3 i love that she wastes no time to pick on lewis but plays along with his roscoe account
→ YourUserName i don’t play when it comes to my fluffy man
User4 miss thing, you are not slick. we all see the red bull in the last slide
→ User5 omg and they were seen chatting outside the space between the two garages earlier
→ User6 she was also seen talking to charles, pierre, valtteri and george but i don’t see any of you linking them together?
→ User7 her and Charles tho
→ User6 ffs 🙄
mercedesamgf1 you and roscoe are also our favourite hamiltons
→ lewishamilton i just can’t catch a break
charles_leclerc thank you for letting me into the garage to see the baby 🐶
maxverstappen1 always nice having you around the paddock
liked by YourUserName
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YourUserName just posted
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liked by alex_albon, lewishamilton and others
YourUserName another weekend, another flex 🏁. also, thank you to @ nike for literally being the reason i get to chase my brother around the world tagged: lewishamilton, georgerussell63
7,669 commnets
georgerussell63 will you stop eating my snacks
→ YourUserName no, you don’t need them. your trainer says you’re getting fat
→ georgerussell63 don’t tell lies!
lewishamilton shoes on the bed!!
→ YourUserName they never touched the bed! and they’ve never even touched the ground!
→ YourUserName get off my post!
→ YourUserName go lose some races!
→ lewishamilton just like you’ve lost my love!
→ YourUserName i never wanted it in the first place!
→ roscoelovescoco that hurtses my feelings
→ User8 not lewis using baby roscoe against y/n
charles_leclerc perhaps you could wear red next?
→ landonorris nah mate. papaya all the way
→ maxverstappen1 i think she'd look better in blue
liked by YourUserName
mercedesamgf1 thank you for being the most entertaining member of the garage
→ georgerussell63 admin, how could you? i thought i was the best 🥺
User9 i'm living for y/n's sponsored post for work literally leads to her terrorising half the grid
→ User10 and the fact that it usually leads to admin and the grid terrorising themselves
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User1 no because the way this woman had him blushing and kicking his feet outside his own garage earlier, he’s smitten
→ User2 omg i saw that, he was fumbling over his words and everything
→ User3 i was in the paddock and no joke, he giggled!
User4 um i highly doubt max is flirting with y/n to mess with lewis, if anything, lewis asked y/n to flirt with max to mess up his game
→ User5 i bet you’re feeling real foolish about this comment now (race day tweet)
→ User6 agreed with user5, if anything the flirting fuelled max because he won with an 8 second lead
User7 no because they would be far too hot for any of us to handle
YourUserName oh look at that, I’m trending again
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YourUserName just posted
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liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and others
YourUserName thanks for having me @ redbullracing. it was a different perspective of the track, that’s for sure. well done on your 1-2 tagged: maxverstappen1
10,347 comments
mercedesamgf1 but you’re still a traitor 💔
User8 why tf is she in red bull. like could she make her disdain for lewis any more obvious
→ User9 what drugs are you on. the company she works for were invited by red bull and she went as their rep. lewis was seen waving at her from mercedes
→ User10 literally i swear all you lewis girlies look for any chance to hate on his sister like his sister isn’t the light of his life
lewishamilton i missed you
→ User10 you tell 'em, lew
→ YourUserName @ lewishamilton you’re so needy
→ YourUserName but i missed you too
redbullracing our good luck charm
→ georgerussell63 back off. you can’t have her
→ mercedesamgf1 @ georgerussell63 you tell ‘em, boo
maxverstappen1 it was a delight to have you
→ User11 dude you need better rizz than that
charles_leclerc ferrari in the future?
→ lewishamilton no
→ georgerussell63 no
→ mercedesamgf1 no
→ maxverstappen1 no
(this comment has been deleted)
danielricciardo i tried getting you to visit me there for years but max comes along and asks ONCE
liked by maxverstappen1
→ User12 omg max invited her
→ User13 omg she was there for work
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YourUserName just posted
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liked by lewishamilton, maxverstappen1 and others
YourUserName he said he liked my curls so I let him take me for a drive
6,669 comments
yourfriend okay but the hair is looking fire
lewishamilton who’s car is that
lewishamilton where are you
lewishamilton who are you with
lewishamilton I know you’re on your phone. stop ignoring my comments
→ User1 lewis is killing me
→ User2 she’s really making him work up a sweat
yourfriend2 these pics are killing me. salivating
→ yourfriend3 agreed. bark bark woof woof
liked by YourUserName
liked by maxverstappen1
User3 okay but doesn’t that look a lot like max’s recent car?
→ lewishamilton show me the evidence
→ User3 omg no way you replied
→ User4 you literally can barely see the car but okay?
maxverstappen1 was he at least a good driver?
→ YourUserName i don’t know. he hit the curb and was a bit on the slow side
→ User5 you ain't slick, sis
landonorris omg you promised you wouldn’t tell anyone about us
→ YourUserName omg but you kept asking me for curl care routines. how could i resist?
alex_albon i mean the curls are nice but i don’t know how he can put up with your personality
→ YourUserName @ lilymhe dump him
→ lilymhe but he’s losing? so i feel like i have to wait until the season is over
→ alex_albon babe!
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User1 do they need a third
User2 omg i called it. i called it. i called it
User3 everybody stay FUCKIGN CALM!
User4 okay but the way he holds her when he kisses her 🥹
User5 can somebody check on lewis? i feel he may not be able to handle this
→ User6 i can't handle this. let alone anyone else
User7 omg omg omg
User8 anyone else think these photos are an absolute invasion of privacy? how disgusting
→ User9 oh agreed. we hate that this was done but we're also so happy that they're together
User10 mom and dad
User11 the dream team. one can terrorise the grid OFF the track and one terrorises them ON the track
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YourUserName just posted
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liked by maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and others
YourUserName when bae is thirsty so am i 💦
11,342 comments
User12 is this a hard launch
→ User13 no, i think the paps did that for them
→ maxverstappen1 she had a 10 page document of plans for a soft launch as well
→ User14 um miss y/n, we'll still take those posts please
User15 does this mean we’re going to be getting y/n in the red bull garage from now to on and not Merc :(
→ georgerussell63 we were told we had to have shared custody
→ mercedesedamgf1 toto and christian had to sign a contract
lewishamilton i don’t like this. i'm happy for you but i do not need max verstappen thirst traps all over my feed
→ YourUserName well, i know you much prefer the real thing but you’re not allowed to drool over that anymore
→ lewishamilton how do i disown you?
→ YourUserName i've been asking myself that question for years
danielricciardo woohoo maxie. i wasn't familiar with you like that. she’s far too pretty for you, mate
→ maxverstappen1 i know
User1 not y/n being the thing that makes max active on socials
charles_leclerc it's nice to see the two of you finally together so that max stops talking to me in the cool down room about your beauty
→ maxverstappen1 shut the fuck up.
→ YourUserName @ maxverstappen1 aww you think i’m pretty
→ maxverstappen1 of course I do
landonorris how could you do this to me. i thought we were forever
→ YourUserName we weren’t even for 2 minutes
→ danielricciardo she only likes champions, mate
redbullracing going to need these blown up and out in the garage
→ YourUserName already on it
User2 petition for y/n to become max’s official photographer
→ maxverstappen1 agreed
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YourUserName just posted
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liked by mercedesamgf1, nicorosberg and others
YourUserName just a couple of besties aka my brother wants to steal my boyfriend tagged: maxverstappen1, lewishamilton
7,555 comments
danielricciardo i think you mean MY boyfriend
→ YourUserName max told me your little fling meant nothing to him
→ danielricciardo @ maxverstappen1 you bitch!
→ maxverstappen1 i'm sorry but y/n means more to me than our night together
→ danielricciardo take it back
→ YourUserName your head game just wasn’t that strong
→ lewishamilton @ YourUserName i hate you for making me read that
georgerussell63 why don’t you take pics like this of me with lewis 🥺 i like him more than max does
→ YourUserName @ lewishamilton you’re upsetting all of your boyfriends tonight
→ lewishamilton i hate you
landonorris does this mean you’re free for me to hit you up
→ maxverstappen1 watch your back on the track
→ redbullracing @ maxverstappen1 christian said you’re not allowed to say that online anymore
→ maxverstappen1 for legal purposes, my previous comment was a joke
maxverstappen1 you’re the only Hamilton for me, schatje
→ YourUserName love you baby
→ maxverstappen1 love you too 💕
→ charles_leclerc @ maxverstappen1 i miss when you loved me
mercedesamgf1 please stop posting these. you’re making the rest of the grid jealous
mclaren please stop upsetting the grid by revealing their affairs. now they’re all crying
williamsracing @ YourUserName for the sake of the race, please stop stealing max from his boyfriends. they can’t drive through their tears
redbullracing we need more content like this, please. if the other drivers are too heartsick, there’s nothing standing in our way
→ redbullracing for legal reasons, this is a joke
1K notes · View notes
sttoru · 1 day
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Aventurine with a virgin reader </3 guiding her and moving slowly and gently as he always gives her praises 🥹
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 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. soft dom!aventurine x virgin!female reader. smut. p in v -> protected. lots of praise. clit stimulation. breast play kinda. very soft and gentle sex. reader gets called ‘baby, my jewel, pretty girl.’ wc; 1.4k
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aventurine is a gentle lover; never once having forced you into any acts of intimacy. you’re always the one leading the progress of your relationship. the control over the speed of how things go soothes your worries.
your comfort and consent is his number one priority. his little ‘may i’s before touching you are what reassure you. you’ve clearly chosen the right person to be your partner.
even now - when you’re finally beneath him, with your naked bodies indulging in a romantic session - aventurine makes sure to go slow. softly, gently and tenderly; like you’re a delicate flower. a delicate gem that’s threatening to break with just the slightest touch.
“you’re okay, baby,” aventurine mumbles quietly against your skin, his lips attaching to your neck. he gives you soft kisses all over in hopes to soothe you. he can feel you tremble when he pushes his tip against your tight entrance, “i got you, i got you—i promise.”
he does, in fact, have your back. you trust that he does. aventurine never fails to keep his promises, he always keeps his word even if it may seem impossible. perhaps it’s due to his luck—perhaps it’s due to his overbearing love for you.
“kakavasha..” you whimper his name. the blonde nearly chokes on his spit at the way you called out to him. he pats your head gently, that same hand moving down to collect the tears running down your cheeks. you sniff, “mph, h-how much more?”
aventurine kisses a tear drop away, sighing against your skin. you’re so precious to him and he wishes to convey that fact. he’s trying his best to keep calm, though he can feel his restraints fading each time your nails dig into his back. it hurts so good.
he doesn’t want to hurt nor scare you. therefore, aventurine takes a deep breath and flashes you his charming smile, blonde locks covering his magenta and cyan colored eyes. those eyes that were once devoid of life, now sparkling with affection for you.
“just a little bit. can you hold on for me?” aventurine asks in a soft tone. he places a quick kiss on the tip of your nose. his hands move to hold yours, fingers interlocking. he squeezes them when you answer his question with a nod, “heh, thank you.”
aventurine bottoms out after what feels like hours. he sighs in relief and buries his face into the crook of your neck. you’re tight, squeezing his cock like you’re begging him to stay—to stay connected forever. he gives you all the time you need to adjust to your insides being stretched and moulded to fit him.
your eyes are glazed over as you stare up at the ceiling. you feel so full. the stretch hurts a little, though you’re quick to accommodate to the intrusion. your fluids make it easy and more comfortable for both aventurine and you.
you’re grateful that your lover understands your position. you’ve been scared of sex since you were but a virgin, however it doesn’t seem as bad in the moment.
not when you got a boyfriend like aventurine.
“so precious,” aventurine coos and kisses your jaw. he eventually reaches your lips and gives them a quick yet passionate peck. his eyes roam over your naked, sweaty body that’s glimmering underneath the dim light of the small lamp, “you look stunning, my jewel.”
you tighten up around aventurine the moment he calls you by that nickname. he hisses at the feeling, his cock throbbing with the desire to move already. aventurine distracts himself from those urges by kissing your breasts.
his tongue rolls over your nipples, his hands still pinning yours to the soft mattress below you. he sucks on your chest and doesn’t think twice before leaving a hickey or two. you’re his and he likes to remind you of that fact.
aventurine slowly detaches from your tits, his saliva coating the plump flesh. he grins at the sight and hums in satisfaction. he looks up at you and watches as you say those words he’s waited on;
“it’s okay, you can move.”
aventurine nods after he makes sure you’re totally fine with it. he pulls his hips away, until his cock is halfway in before pushing back in your pussy. slow and gentle thrusts are the way to go.
you quickly get used to the rhythm of your lover’s thrusts. you can feel the love and passion behind them, each move done with a purpose. that purpose being to pleasure you and make you feel appreciated.
“is this okay? yeah?” aventurine pants, his pace quickening, yet also slowing down whenever he feels like he’s overwhelming you. your moans slowly fill his ears and your brain is visibly being taken over by the satisfaction.
your lover is entranced by the way your tits bounce in circles with each soft thrust. he can feel his tip hitting the deepest parts of your wet cunt, claiming you like he’s always dreamed of doing. the way you’re already drunk on pleasure is adorable.
he leans down and presses his lips against yours. this isn’t just mindless sex—it’s your first time and he strives to make it as romantic as possible. his tongue mingles with yours, the mixture of saliva running down your chin because of how sloppy you’re making out.
“just like that– fuck,” aventurine groans as his hips roll against you. he’s slowly drowning in the ecstasy. seeing you enjoy the moment as much as he does, is exciting him more than the actual act. he loves it when you enjoy yourself—gets off to it even, “let me hear more of that pretty voice.”
you let out little whines, blessing aventurine’s ears with your voice, just like he asked you. your boyfriend moans at the sound of you as his fingers reach down to circle your clit. he’s addicted to you—so in love. his hands move to your thighs, pulling them apart just a little more so his dick could reach further.
you get more sensitive by the second. especially when aventurine wraps your legs around his waist, his hands wandering all over your body. the pad of his thumb presses down on your clit, making you even more sensitive. your eyes roll back as you leave red scratches on his back, “feels good, s-so good!”
aventurine smirks at your moans. you’re beautiful in this moment beneath him, his cock filling you up to the brim. he feels the connection between the two of you deepening, your relationship reaching new heights.
the blonde male pants while he holds your body close—hips moving non-stop. he can’t get enough of you and vice versa.
“you’re so sensitive, baby,” aventurine chuckles as he feels your pussy spasm around his thick dick. it’s your first time, so he doesn’t blame you when you tell him that you’re close. he slyly increases the pace in which he rubs your clit, “gonna cum, hm? c’mon, you can make a mess on my dick, pretty girl.”
his smooth voice echoes in your mind and that’s all it takes to push over the edge. you hold tightly onto your lover’s biceps and your back arches off the bed, head lolling backwards against the pillow. your lower abdomen tingles and you feel your legs shake due to the impact.
you’ve never felt so good. it’s so much—the feeling is overwhelming you. your body shakes underneath aventurine. he reads your body language and easily concludes that you’re a bit overstimulated by your own orgasm.
“good girl,” aventurine pats your head and rubs your cheek with his thumb. he kisses the corners of your eyes before doing the same to your forehead. your little whimpers and incoherent babbles melt his heart. your lover nods, “shhh, shh, i know. i know.”
he doesn’t care about the fact that he didn’t get to cum. tonight is all about you, not him. aventurine hugs you to his chest and whispers sweet nothings into your ear while you come down from your high.
“i love you so much,” you whisper between shallow breaths. you can feel your lover smile against the skin of your shoulder before he kisses you there. he sighs in content, not yet pulling out.
aventurine wishes to stay with you as one. for as long as you allow him to. he tilts his head back and looks down at you, placing his forehead against yours.
he truly is a lucky man;
“i love you more. so much more.”
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886 notes · View notes
azullumi · 3 days
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TO HOLD, TO FEEL, TO LOVE !!
premise — the intimate act of handholding, wishing to feel one another at the tip of the fingers; what are hands made for if not to hold one another? content tags — various characters with gender-neutral reader, established relationship, fluff, hands are mentioned multiple times, my small headcanons of their hands, not proofread, 0.7k words ; headcanons
note from me — something small and simple for me because i have 3 lengthy fic series (or events) in my drafts for all of you <33 also i dont have wifi here and just relying on data so im barely surviving
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SUNDAY, he held the sun once; he held your hand. His hands are slender and bony, delicate and gentle yet his hold on yours is firm and tight—as if he doesn’t want you to let go nor does he want to let go of you. For him, it’s a way of protection, a grounding reassurance that you’re there with him, not an illusion, not a dream. He’ll always take his glove off when holding your hand, insisting that it’s much better to feel the warmth of your palms and the way your fingers fit in his.
AVENTURINE, has hands that are soft, slim, and slender with clean, trimmed nails. He uses his fingers to draw the stars and the universe on your skin, tracing the lines of your palm, kissing your knuckles so sweetly, so gently. Whenever he holds your hand, he often finds himself fidgeting and playing with your fingers—it’s a small habit that he does, one that eases and soothes the tremble of his own. The simple act of holding your hand grounds him and stables himself at times when everything feels so messy and suffocating.
VERITAS RATIO, is not one to ask for such things, at least verbally. He’ll show himself more through his acts, fragments and pieces of himself found in the subtle gestures that he does—such as the pinky of his hand finding its way on to yours, hooking itself, and letting it linger until you let him hold the entirety of your palm in his. It’s subtle, simple, delicate yet rough and sharp on the edges just like his hands. One thing is that when you squeeze his hand, accidentally or intentionally, he’ll squeeze yours back.
LUOCHA, how could his hands be more feminine and delicate than a woman’s while also looking like a man’s? His hands are pretty, fingers delicately thin and long with intricate lines on his palms that looked like it was carefully drawn by an artist. The way it looks when he’s holding yours is just mesmerizing, it’s like two missing puzzle pieces that finally found and fit into each other—he is never complete without you. Perhaps he has told you or perhaps he hasn't yet but the reason why he gets quiet when you hold his hand is because he’s relishing in this moment and burning its print into his memory so he’ll never forget how soft your hands feel.
GALLAGHER, touchy, needy hands that seek for the warmth and smoothness of your skin underneath his touch—he’s simply an affectionate man who adores seeing your hand in his. He’ll always find ways to lace his fingers in yours, always wanting to hold your hand; on the note of his hands, it’s rough and bigger than yours will ever be—years of his life honing and carving the shapes of his fingers into ones that you’ve known and always held in your sleep.
ARGENTI, an epitome of beauty and so are his hands, are the definition of it too. It’s slender, long, and pretty, a perfect pale shade that seems to glow underneath the sun, and his fingers have this naturally pink shine on them. He’ll sing praises of how beautiful your hands look, especially when he’s holding it in his—would adore it more under the light, as the shadows cast itself on your skin and everything around him feels so surreal. It's mesmerizing, wonderful, breathtaking, to think that you could be more beautiful in his eyes, even if it’s just something small and simple.
JING YUAN, has rough, big, calloused hands that never want to let go of you. To think that he had gone through a life where he never felt your skin, where he never got to hold your hand. He’s a clingy man, affectionate with adventurous hands that is always on you—whenever you’re near him, his hands are either holding yours or just on you, resting on your waist, wrapped around your figure, or just anywhere as long as he gets to feel you under his hands. It’s like your skin and his palms are magnets of opposite poles.
GEPARD, a little shy and hesitant in the aspects of affection, even if it’s just the small act of holding your hand. His face is flustered, cheeks covered with a shade of pink that is easily discernible underneath the light, and his lips are curled into a smile that beams only affection the same way he looks at you and your hands intertwined with his. His grasp on you is firm and strong but would easily loosen when you ask him to; he does get anxious though, thinking if his grip was too tight or too much.
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special mentions to the wonderful and beautiful @toorurs !! i know i have already said this before but you’re a pleasant surprise in my life, and you have become someone special and dear to me. you’re an amazing friend, kind and sweet, as well as, talented <33 i aspire to have your strength and courage in situations that would have me just running away and just completely avoiding it, you’re a strong person and you’re doing amazing, and you’ll keep on doing amazing things. i’ll always be here for you no matter what happens, hoping and wishing that you’ll get everything you have ever wanted and wished for, and anyone who is a hindrance to your happiness will get a watermelon or anything thrown at their face (just point me to them)
© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
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utterlyotterlyx · 2 days
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Can you do a Azriel request where Azriel exaggerating a bruise his mate got during training to be worse than it is and needing bed rest because he wants to cuddle/kiss but still hasn’t figured out how to ask for cuddles since they’ve been friends for centuries but newly accepted their mate bond?
Sparks
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Summary - An injury during training with Cassian ends with Azriel fussing over you, but as always with Azriel, he has another motive.
Warnings - none really, mentions of injury, slight angst, welcome to fluff junction
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If anyone would have told Azriel when he had first met you that you would end up as his mate, he would have laughed in their faces.
There were no two people as different as you and Azriel, he was a brooding thing and you were like fresh morning sunshine, opposite in every way imaginable. It also didn't help that he found your stubborn nature to be quite the nuisance.
Those feelings didn't linger long however, you had some strange ability to make those around you feel at ease, perhaps it was your charm or how your eyes sparkled whenever someone spoke to you about something important to them. It didn't take Azriel long at all to become one of the many people who sought comfort in your words, much to the delight of Rhys who always sternly told him to be nicer to you.
Azriel couldn't remember the precise moment he had met you for the first time, he was sure it had been Selene to introduce the two of you, and when she died Rhys had moved you into the River House and you had quite quickly become a pillar of the Inner Circle. Wise. Kind. Truthful.
A force to be reckoned with.
What Azriel could remember however was the moment the bond had snapped for him.
There was a special spot that you often went to when you wanted to be alone, a certain balcony that lay beyond the stained glass doors of Selene's room, a place you had used to sit with her during the night, where you'd either sit in silence and gaze at the stars, or talk about anything that you wished. Selene was your best friend, you had also lost a sister that day.
That evening, as the sun was about to draw the curtains to another performance, when the sky was painted in burnt orange and purple, did Azriel find you there. A gentle song was drifting from your lips from where you sat on a deep set chair, wrapped up in one of Selene's blankets and gazing so far away that Azriel had thought that you were peering into the past. Something about it held his attention, the way that your eyes had softened, how your hair drifted in the gentle breeze, how the sun made your eyes shine like rare diamonds and the way you held yourself for comfort.
It had snapped when he had mistakenly made a noise, being too entranced by you to be careful about where he was stepping, and you had turned your head to see who was in Selene's space with you. The sun was causing you to glow, it hugged the side of your face, and the way you had whispered his name made his entire world spin.
The bond hadn't snapped for you though, you had simply asked him what he was doing and if he wanted to join you. Which he did without hesitation. That night you had both talked through the hours, too entwined with one another to realise the sun peeking through the horizon to welcome another day.
Months had passed and you still had no idea about the bond, and unfortunately it had snapped for you at the worst possible time. When Azriel had been slung over Rhys' shoulder, badly injured, and you had rushed into the room to help Madja only to feel an onslaught of pain the moment the bond blossomed and connected your souls together.
A single look was all Azriel needed to know that it had snapped, the wide eyes of terror and worry and the drifting fingers over the skin where your heart lay.
I'm going to kick your ass for this when you can stand.
Tears had brimmed in your eyes the moment he had laughed at your quip, and then winced from the pain. You had fell to his side, running your fingers through his matted hair, telling him that you weren't going anywhere whilst Madja put him back together.
Azriel had woken in his bed to you curled into his side with your arm flung over his torso, and as soon as he moved an inch, you were awake and alert asking him if he needed anything to which he said he only needed you.
Ever since you'd been rather inseparable.
So when Azriel had felt that jolt of pain throbbing at his shoulder and the emotions to go along with it, he had taken off running to the House of Wind, leaving a rather bewildered Feyre alone in the bakery with bags of pastries that he was meant to bring back to you to halt your incessant begging for them.
Landing at the House of Wind, his shadows whispered to him where you were and he took off in that direction, following the trails of your scent before walking into the brick wall known as Rhys, "Where is she? What happened?"
Rhys lay a consoling hand on his shoulder, the same one that was throbbing and twisting with discomfort, "She's fine, Az," Rhys told him, his violet gaze burning into the Shadowsinger to make sure that he understood. Azriel loosened a breath and waited for Rhys to continue despite the itching need to find you, "She was training with Cassian, he was a bit rough with her and dislocated her shoulder. Madja is with her now."
As if on cue, a soft groan emitted from down the hall and Azriel moved around Rhys to follow it, peering into each room along the way until his eyes landed on you.
Sweat coated your brow, you had tugged your bottom lip between your teeth to stop your whimpering as Madja held your arm in her hands. A low growl rumbled in his chest, his sight moved to Cassian at your side who looked at him with wide eyes, "Az, I didn't mean to hurt her," Cassian knew how protective Azriel was of you, and since the bond had been newly requited, Cassian also knew how much Azriel was dying to tear him apart in that moment.
To Azriel, Cassian was not his friend in that moment, he was the one who had hurt his mate, his reason for living, and it was making him seethe.
"Az?" A weak voice called to him and Cassian stepped aside to display you fully to him, "It's my fault, I thought I could take a bit more force."
The shadows darted from his shoulders, soaring through the air to pepper your face with comfort and love, slithering through your hair and floating atop your injured shoulder.
Cassian scratched the back of his neck, "I did body slam you into the ground, y/n."
"You body slammed her into the ground?"
Closing your eyes and inhaling deeply, you then glanced to Cassian, face deadpan and stoic, "I'm trying to save your ass from a beating here, Cass."
"Right, I'll just go. You've got it from here, Az?"
A stupid question.
Azriel's burning gaze didn't move from Cassian as he slipped from the room, then all of his attention fell onto you. The Shadowsinger knelt at your side, brushing his thumb over your cheek where the skin had been stained from your tears, "How are you feeling?"
"I'm okay," you strained, "It's just uncomfortable. You came at the perfect time, Madja was just about to pop it back in," you said with a nervous smile directed to the healer who was paying little notice to the two of you.
Unease and nerves flew down the bond and Azriel clasped your fingers around his, "Squeeze it as hard as you need to. I can take it."
"I thought I could too," you grinned and shuffled into an upright position, bracing yourself against his body and gulping down deep breaths, "I'm sorry if I scared you."
With the bond being so new with so much to be explored, Azriel wasn't sure of what you needed. Sure, he had taken care of you during your cycle, he knew that you were affectionate and loved to be held, but it was always you that crawled onto his lap and wrapped your arms around him whenever you needed some contact. Azriel was a touch-starved thing, and he didn't know how to ask for your affection because he was so used to not having any at all and was afraid that you'd deny him.
Now he had the perfect excuse.
Once Madja had twisted your shoulder back into place, an action that made you yelp and groan to the point Azriel had felt his blood boil when looking to the healer, she wrapped it up in a sling and advised that you be on bed rest until it had fully set and healed, which would only take a couple of days.
"Can I take her home?" Madja rolled her eyes playfully and uttered her approval, and Azriel wasted no time in scooping you into his arms, smirking at your glare, "Madja said to rest, so no walking for you."
"My legs don't hurt, Az."
"I don't care," you shouldn't have been complaining really, it was nice to be the one being held for a change, and it was nice that Azriel had made the move to touch you.
It wasn't like you never cuddled or spent days in bed with one another, you had spent many days in his bed with your limbs entwined with his lips searching every single inch of your skin. But when it came to simple acts of affection, Azriel was lost, and it was obvious that he didn't know how to show affection outside of the bedroom.
Landing at the River House, you pleaded with Azriel to put you down, assuring him that you could walk on your own, but he refused, and continued to refuse you as he carried you through the house and up the stairs which led to your shared bedroom.
It was Azriel's really, but he put up quite a fuss after the bond had snapped and you had little choice in the matter. Azriel did have the largest and comfiest bed, confirmed after you had tested every single bed in the house before coming to the conclusion, and all you did was bring your feminine flair to the space and your copious amount of clothes.
Azriel placed you on the edge of the bed, pressing his lips to yours and mumbling, "I'll be right back," he left your lips needing more and you watched him retreat to the bathroom, a squeak of the taps and rushing water sounded and you shuddered with happiness when Azriel reappeared, "Let's get you out of these clothes," clothes that were sweaty and dusted with dirt from the training grounds.
Working carefully, Azriel helped you out of your leathers, he gently lifted the shirt around your injured shoulder and aided you in stepping out of your pants, folding them neatly on the ottoman at the foot of the bed.
The water was the perfect temperature for you and your body disappeared under the bubbles as Azriel lowered you into the tub, stripping his own clothes from his body and stepping in to nestle into the spot behind you and sliding his arms around you, resting your head against his chest and rubbing circles into your skin.
Wincing, you angled yourself, and you weren't able to stop the laugh spurting from your lips when Azriel said, "I'm going to make Cassian cry tomorrow," you sat upright and peered over your shoulder at him.
Azriel didn't meet your eyes, instead he was focusing on his fingers playing with the ends of your dampened hair; his bare chest glistened in the light, his muscles contorted with tense anger, and his jaw ticked. He welcomed the new position you created, wrapping your legs around his torso and pressing your chest up against his; bubbles swarmed around you and you sighed with content when his fingers ran through your hair and down your spine, when his lips peppered along your collarbone.
"What if I need you with me tomorrow?" Azriel straightened, eagerly, and leaned into you, his hands falling on the small of your back, "To take care of me?"
Those hazel orbs brightened, "I'll do whatever you need me to do," a new bond or not, you knew that there was nothing that Azriel wouldn't do for you, "I'll glue myself to you if that will make you feel better."
Through giggles you spoke, "As lovely as that sounds, Az," you brushed a strand of hair from his eyes, "Being in your arms is where I want to be, more for you if anything."
Azriel frowned, "What do you mean?"
"You've been awfully touchy today."
Sitting up a little straighter, "You're hurt," you quirked a brow and he knew from the gentle smirk on your lips that you knew full well what he was doing, and he cracked under the pressure, "Maybe I just wanted an excuse to dote on you a little bit."
Bingo.
Leaning closer to him, being careful of your shoulder, you hovered just in front of his face, noses almost touching, "You don't need an excuse to dote on me, Az. I know it's difficult for you to show affection, but you'll get used to it. If you ever want to kiss me or hold my hand or cuddle me, just do it, you never need to-"
Azriel cut you off by pressing his lips to yours, it was something he had done countless times before, but it felt different, like he was finally embracing the bond enough to stop hiding his love for you. Fingers at the back of your neck, Azriel smirked against your lips, at the fact you hadn't released a breath yet, and then pulled away, "Like that?"
"Yeah, just like that," your voice was a hush above a whisper, "Do more of that."
Grinning, Azriel purred, "Yeah?"
"Mhm," you nodded eagerly, wondering how in the world your mate was so perfect and alluring.
If Selene could see you now, happily mated to Azriel the Shadowsinger, ready to embark on the wild ride of life... you were sure she would have been thrilled about it actually.
Noticing your mind wander, Azriel cupped your cheek, "Where have you gone?"
It's what he always asked when your mind drifted elsewhere, you had told him it was never just a thought, but an image, a memory, so he had stopped asking what you were thinking about but rather where you had gone to.
"To Selene," he pulled you closer to him, running his thumb across your lips, "Do you think she would have been happy about us?"
"Are you happy?" Connecting your eyes, you nodded, softly, "Then yes, she would have been very happy. It was all she ever wanted for you, an all-consuming love and a life of happiness."
The inevitable day of your mating ceremony was bound to happen in the coming months, and whilst you were excited for it and everything that it meant for you and Azriel, the thought of it saddened you, because the one person you had grown up with speaking of marriage and children at least once a week was no longer by your side.
"Do you know how much I love you?"
Azriel had always been good at pulling you from your thoughts, you focused on him, the love of your life, and replied, "I think so, but it wouldn't hurt to hear it again."
After throwing his head back to the edge of the tub with laughter, he settled, "I swear that I couldn't love you more than I do right now, but I know that I will tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. My love for you will never stop growing." Azriel held your face in his hands, stroking the hair from your face, "The sky has nothing on you, my love, you surround my world. You are my world."
Tendrils of shadow moved from his shoulders, peeping over them, flowing down his body into the water and spreading across your thighs. You rested your forehead against his, "You are my home, Az."
With a gentle kiss, Azriel lifted you from the tub, he wrapped a towel around your body and helped you into one of his shirts that engulfed you in the scent of him, and he waited, he waited for you to clamber into the bed and get comfortable before he found his place beside you. Like he would everyday for the rest of his life.
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Authors Note
Bath time Az is just ughhhhhhhh
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gay-dorito-dust · 1 day
Note
How do you think the penacony guys + argenti would react to a reader who gets flustered super easily?
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Aventurine loved the fact the he didn’t have to do much in order to make you flustered.
He could caress your cheek or kiss the back of your hand and wait for the precise moment where your eyes grew wide, breath hitched in your throat as your body went rigid.
‘Oh? Is someone perhaps a little flustered from such a simple gesture as me kissing the back of your hand?’ He’d ask teasingly as an amused smile grew across his face as his eyes memorised your every micro expression. When you didn’t respond but instead avert your eyes to try and avoid his gaze, aventurine got the response that he wanted.
‘You do don’t you!’ He cried as he got closer to you, putting a hand under your chin and moving pushing it upwards so that you were forced to look into his eyes. ‘Oh isn’t that precious,’ Aventurine coos as he somehow leant in even closer to you and whispered, ‘I’m sure with enough exposure we’ll be able to build up that endurance of yours. Okay sweetheart?’ He adds with mischief clear within his beautiful eyes.
He would make a game out of how many times he could get you flustered in under a single day.
Spoiler: He managed to make you flustered roughly 10-15 times and that was only during the day!
Aventurine has a way with words with his silver tongue and he would use it on you without a second thought until you were trying to hide yourself away in his side, clinging onto him for dear life as he only laughs and kisses the top of your head.
He’s never felt this deeply about someone before and your reactions to whenever he does express his affections only told him that you felt just as strongly towards him, and that was all he could ever need to reassure himself that his feelings towards you weren’t one sided and would treat you to whatever your heart desires.
Maybe even something that made you not so secretly match with him that he knows you won’t notice until later on?
Aventurine loves your easily flustered nature but he loved you even more. You getting flustered was merely a bonus for him that he’d take advantage of as long as you were okay with it.
Sunday grows somewhat addicted to the idea that it was his touch and his alone that had seemingly had you unraveling at the seems.
He could be grabbing a cup from the shelves to make himself a drink and places his hand on your hip as to keep you from moving as he reaches over you, smiling to himself as he heard you let out a small ‘eep’ and go rigid upon contact.
‘Are you alright my dear? You’re seemingly a little tense.’ Sunday asks as he moved his head so that his mouth was level with your earn, his observant eyes watching as the goosebumps arose and how your posture straightened almost immediately.
‘Yes! I’m fine!’ You’d exclaim and Sunday moved his hand away from your hip to your shoulder, squeezing reassuringly as if he wasn’t the sole reason you were so skittish and unable to maintain eye contact.
‘No need to shout my dear, I’m right here.’ He’d say softly as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head before going about the rest of his day with the image of a flustered you to keep him in a relativity good mood.
Sunday adored your reactions to anything he did, whether big or small because it made him special, unique in your eyes that it feed into his delusion thst you were fated somewhere down the line and now you were together as promised by a higher power.
He’d start putting on your shoes for you and letting his hands linger on your legs and thighs for far longer then he should, or only let you tie his tie and revel in how flustered you get just from being in close proximity to him and silently watching on as you struggled to keep your hands steady as his musky scent invaded your senses.
Boothill adored seeing your face grow flustered and his cuteness aggression towards you would go through the roof.
He’d pinch your cheeks, you’d get flustered and try to push his hands away from your face.
He’d hug you from behind and laugh as you hurried your face into your hands to hide away how easily affected you were, but from feeling just how warm the tips of your ears were, Boothill had a vivid picture within his head about how the rest of your face looked behind your hands.
Back when you weren’t officially together Boothill even went as far as to puts his hat atop of your head, an act you weren’t all that familiar of the meaning behind, until someone brought up the fact that it meant he wanted to see more of you. Needless to say you used his hat to cover your face upon realising that the handsome cowboy you fancied was interested in you.
Even now Boothill would still puts his hat on your head and smile at how quickly it took for you to use it as a way to hide away your flustered face.
Would he playfully bite you just to what you squeak in shock and surprise? Yes, yes he would because you being flustered at anything and everything he threw at you only made Boothill’s cuteness aggression towards you worsen as you were just too darn cute for him to deny!
You were practically trapped within his arms from first thing in the morning until nightfall.
Argenti
‘Are you alright my beloved? You’re looking quite flustered, should we sit down?’
Sweet, sweet Argenti would grow excessively worried upon seeing you get worked up so easily over a small act of affection, thinking that me might’ve done something wrong and if you weren’t currently at a loss for words, you would’ve been able to calm him down and bring reason as to why that was.
All he wanted was to sing your praises and show just how amazing of a person you were to anyone who’d stop and listen, so much so that he forgot that his words held a lot more power than he thinks, seeing as how his affinity to effortlessly waxing poetry on the spot about you and your beauty had left you flustered to the high heaves and too meek to speak up on your own behalf.
‘Why do you hide away your beautiful face?’ Argenti wonders aloud as he watched you intently with kind, sweet eyes that drank you in your entirety. ‘Do you not think yourself the way that I do?’ He adds and once again you were left with a sudden inability to speak and a parched throat.
Argenti doesn’t mind you being flustered, he finds that it makes you even more beautiful in his eyes and would even praise you about your easily flustered nature, much to your dismay as this would only further send you over the edge.
He can’t help it! Everything you did was beautiful and unique to your character that he whenever he sees someone else do anything similar, his mind brings him back to you, his beloved because no one else can compare to you and you’re unique reactions towards certain aspects of life.
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I like to imagine that Sunday likes to watch you enjoy simple, every day activities.
Be it cooking, cleaning, dressing up, applying makeup, absolutely everything you do is positively enchanting to him. Frankly, it's embarrassing how much you have the head of the Oak Family wrapped around your little finger.
His one saving grace is the fact that he is impeccable at holding himself back. Yes, he wishes to caress the soft skin of your neck. Yes, he wishes to ravish you in a way someone of his status has no business of doing so... But that makes it even more tempting, doesn't it?
The cherry on top is that you do not have a single clue about his true feelings.
Those same feelings start to impact his work. He loses focus on meetings, misplaces his items all over the manor. It becomes so bad that the Watchmaker himself goes so far to ask him what is wrong with him.
Sunday coughs into his hand, deep scarlet staining his pale cheeks. He dismisses any and all accusations but the Watchmaker is having none of it.
"Just take what you want young man." said the Watchmaker.
Those words stuck to him like glue.
Perhaps he should. But will he?
Sunday continues to indulge in your company far more often than he ought to. The guilt he feels is immense, unbearable even. However, if he were to ever see you in the arms of anyone that was not him...
He shudders. His throat is dry and he feels himself heaving, the raging heart in his chest might just give in to the scorching hot pain.
Sunday comes to the decision that he would rather die than to see any other outcome.
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nicromancytarot · 2 days
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LOSING YOUR VIRGINITY, HOW WILL IT BE? 18+
This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to try another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.
I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I do not charge for these readings, and I do not fake readings. I would tell you the cards I get for the readings, but I pull like 20-30 cards each reading and that is just slightly a strenuous task to write them all down lmao.
PICK A CARD READING
I asked my spirit guides what your first time ever having sex is going to be like, pick a picture and find out what they have to say!
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PILE 1
THE SEX
You may find that your first time having sex with your person will be performed as you giving rather than them for the start, as like foreplay, you might begin with giving your person some light touches or possibly some head. The person that you sleep with for your first time is going to really enjoy your butt, they may like how it looks from behind, or they just enjoy being able to touch it. The sex itself will be steady and will take its time, you’ll be spending at least a few hours on this session, You may play the more masculine and responsible role for this time. You may feel as though you need a minute either between sessions or after you’re done entirely, you could want to spend some time alone to recalculate and think about the sex, or you could just be really tired afterwards.
If you’re with someone who has a penis, then I do feel like handy’s will be a common thing happening during your first time, that could be how you start the session, or even how you end it, they also might need a little more time to get it up, or perhaps you need some time to get aroused. You may find that this person is a tad selfish when it comes to sex, possibly not entertaining all of your needs, it is important that you tell them if you are not happy or ok with something.
You could be friends with the person that you are sleeping with, this situation could appear as a friendly hookup for the sake of losing it in time for college for example, or just getting with a crush, I don’t see much romantic commitment for this group.
You may feel as though this situation posed itself as random or spontaneous, it doesn’t seem that you at all planned for this to happen, and due to this you are feeling indecisive on how far you wish for the situation to go, however it does seem like it goes pretty far lol. A hookup doesn’t seem like something you’d have wanted, or intended to happen, but I think you’ll surprise yourself.
AFTERWARDS
You’ll feel very powerful in the fact that you took charge during this situation, maybe even free and reborn as it wasn’t a planned thing. You may feel as though you love your body more, and appreciate your physical abilities more than you did before having sex. Some of you could find yourself wanting to deepen the connection between you and this person, friend to crush, or crush to relationship. You could become more in tune with yourself sexually, and possibly even more willing to try different things, this random situation popping up and you going along with it will feel very freeing and comfortable, like you are discovering more about your wants and needs when it comes to sex and intimacy. This could also get rid of any commitment issues you had prior to this day/night.
PILE 2
THE SEX
The person that you have sex with may have been eyeing you up for a while, it could be someone that has had a crush on you, or possibly even someone that you have a crush on, either way there is an amount of pining, mutual or not. The sex itself could be very unexpected and maybe even a tad indecisive or rebellious, this could be with someone you shouldn’t have sex with. You may both know what you want sexually immediately after it begins, they could even possibly tell you, or you tell them exactly what you intend on happening during this session. If they have a penis, you may have to hold it with two hands rather than one, it could be quite large or even thick, honestly could hurt a fair amount when you guys sleep together.
There is a lack of stability in this connection during this time with each other, you may feel as though it’s random, quick, unexpected or even stupid, like it’s a bad idea but you just can’t help yourself. They could buy you something, like a necklace or some other jewellery to try and sweet talk you, this could be a connection that goes on before the sex rather than a meaningless hookup. The person that you sleep with thinks that you are very beautiful, specifically your chest area, they may like to see your breasts or touch them often, they could even put you into positions that will ensure your chest is exposed to them, like missionary for example.
You may know what you want before you sleep with this person, some of you could be hypersexual and know exactly what you desire when it comes to sex. They may offer you a relationship after the sex, or possibly even ask if you want to go on a date with them another time, I’m not too sure if you’ll feel much else for them besides sexual attraction. You could try out lots of things, whether that’s positions or even actions.
AFTERWARDS
Possible disappointment when it comes to afterwards, you may have not finished and they could’ve, which makes you feel as though your time was wasted. This time could make you feel less attraction towards this person once you’re done having sex with them. This person could even be an ex or someone you had prior feelings for but now you feel nothing, as if the sex was a tad too disappointing to entertain them for anymore after the sex. It may not even relate to the physical feeling of your sexual encounter, but rather the emotional aspect, perhaps you had a situation where there was nothing more than sexual attraction, so that intimacy was missing during your time together and it makes you feel like something is lacking.
PILE 3
THE SEX
Much like pile one, you guys are also starting off with some foreplay including head, you may spend a fair amount of time giving your person head, paying attention to their needs before focusing on your own. I got the word “puke” so you may need to work on your gag reflex to ensure you don’t throw up or end up feeling sick during this time, also try not to push yourself too hard and take your time.
I feel like you guys are in a relationship when having sexual contact with this person, your relationship is based around a healthy friendship, either you guy are like friends who date, or you may have started out as friends before beginning to date. Your person wants you to focus on your stability first, they may show you that they can look after you by doing something for you, you will feel as though they appreciate your body but don’t ONLY appreciate you for your body, this way they will ensure that you feel comfortable knowing that their attraction for you extends past sexual.
You may feel like this sex offers you everything you want, like it cements your relationship and commitment to each other. The sex could help you feel more in touch with your feminine energy, you may get to lay back and allow the other person to take charge after you’ve done your bit of foreplay.
You could be on top, but they will control the pace for you.
Like I said before, this connection is built off of stability, so you will feel very loved, safe and protected during this time together.
AFTERWARDS
You guys may have spent a while with each other having sex, so you could be very tired after, and may need a fair amount of time to recharge. You’ll feel very progressed and improved after having sex with your person, as if you know where you are going with your connection, and like your commitment has reached a new level of comfort, this may even help you a lot with some past, uncomfortable sexual experiences that you may have had. I feel like this will almost rewrite past events and help you heal from them, if you were slut-shamed for stuff in the past, you may feel a fair amount of guilt for having sex, however this experience could help you with this issue or possible insecurity.
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azen13 · 3 days
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CW: Yandere Themes Thinking abt Yandere!Neuvillette with a Sovereign!S/O who seeks asylum in Fontaine after years of hiding in Teyvat from the Fatui, Celestia, etc...
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The moment you enter the Palais Mermonia, Neuvillette feels your presence; like when the sun peaks through a blanket of clouds on an overcast day, something heavy falls off from his soul, like a curtain opening. His office doors open and you find yourself face-to-face with the only being like you in this land.
Of course Neuvillette can't just drop any of his appointments or cases, so he asks you empathetically to wait out in the lobby until his lunch break. Before he returns to his office, he asks one of the Melusines working to keep an eye on you and to make sure you don't get hurt or run off. His fingers twitch as he takes one last look at you, his eyes searching deep into your soul.
When he's finally finished with all his paperwork and met with several people, he ushers you in his office, his face imperceptible. Beneath his human facade, there are currents of emotions pushing against one another like boiling water: protectiveness, anxiety, fear, jubilance, relief. Neuvillette asks you if you want something to eat. Some water from Monstadt to go along with it, maybe?
He lets you tell your story and listens patiently. His expression, perfected over the course of hundreds of thousands of trials, stays perfectly intact, but the tides of his heart lurch as you tell him about all the atrocities committed to you.
The waters roar, and the dragon stirs.
When you ask for asylum and protection he is quick to agree. Very quick. Almost immediately he promises to set you up with a comfortable apartment, a simple job at the Palais organizing papers, some Mora to help you buy clothes, and whatever else you might need. He has to return to work, unfortunately. But he asks again if you can stay in the Palais Mermonia until he is done with work—or at least his official work—for the night.
Your agreement is the most beautiful sound he has ever heard.
The rest of the day, Neuvillette cannot think. There is an permanent indentation in his mind now from that first feeling of sensing your presence. The feelings duplicate themselves in his mind until he can hardly grasp his pen. Words on pages turn into soupy mush.
For the first time in centuries, Neuvillette does not stay late to continue working. When the clock strikes seven, he has already neatly organized the work he has to get done on his desk to pick up later. Briefly, his expression eases, thaws in a way, the corners of his lips slightly upturned, a hint of fondness finding its way into his iridescent eyes.
Unfortunately, he says, he can't organize all of the papers and contact all of the people needed right now to get you what he promised. However, he can offer you a guest room in his home. Your agreeance is so beautiful, your smile radiant like the sun and eyes shining like stars. He wants to see you smile. He likes it. Loves it, even.
As the two of you walk through the streets of Fontaine, the energy of the city begins winding down; there are still people clustered at cafes and musicians spouting tunes off into the evening summer air, but already, stars have begun to appear in the dazzling dusk sky.
You say you love the stars. Neuvillette listens with rapt attention, as though he is studying for the most important test of his life. He is an Akademiya scholar, and his Darshan is the study of you.
You are his star.
After the walk home, Neuvillette finds himself blessed by your expression when you gaze into the foyer of his house. It's nothing extraordinary like the opulence of the nobility, but it is upper-class; a quiet luxury permeates through every part of the home, from the banister carved with patterns of the sea to the walls painted a rich, deep blue.
He holds in a laugh when you see a potted plant and gaze at it like it is a miracle of life. Perhaps it is, with its delicate petals and fragrant scent. How—he wonders as he guides you to the guest room, nearly reaching to put his hand on the small of your back before deciding against it—could it survive this long? How did it not get ripped apart or trampled on by beasts and humans alike? The thought lingers in the back of his mind like the last traces of sunlight beaming in through the windows.
Neuvillette files it away.
When he goes to bed, he cannot sleep. Part of him is worried that there is something genuinely wrong with him, that he should seek medical attention. But that's impossible. And he knows it. It is an easy, dismissive lie; thin like ice in late winter. Once he smashes through it, he plunges into something lethal.
Is it wrong, Neuvillette thinks, that he wishes to protect you?
He should rephrase that. It is wrong that he wishes to keep you tucked away somewhere where those beasts will never hurt you again?
He holds a court case in his mind, you versus him. He cards through the evidence. The laws. He goes on a hunt in his archives for a tome on the law when he needs clarification.
When he composes a mental opinion to this rhetorical case, it is after several hours of back-and-forths in his head. But he knows now.
You are a special case, Neuvillette thinks. Cursed by Celestia even, he would say, with how much you have gone through, escaping the clutches of the Fatui and their Harbingers, and countless other evils. He can trace the scars on your hands knowing there are thousands of tragedies written in invisible ink over them. Could he be what decodes those messages? He can. He will.
To put it more plainly, you don't fall under the standard limits of jurisdiction of Fontaine's law. You are a Sovereign, not a citizen of Fontaine, and in addition, you fall under the qualifications of a person in extreme danger. Your very existence is endangered, the elusive essence of your being alluring to the foulest forces in Teyvat. And since the Archon of your element has not rescinded their powers, you are so very vulnerable.
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Time passes strangely after that night. The god of time has always been a strange, fickle thing in an immortal being like Neuvillette's eyes, but after meeting you, it has only become more warped.
You go out to cafes together. Neuvillette buys you a croissant. You ask him what lavender tastes like. He describes it the best he can, and you buy a lavender latte. You and him share easy, pleasant conversation on a small streetside patio. That is just one morning. There will be an infinite number of mornings like that, but they will all carry that insurmountable significance to Neuvillette. Just like your smile. Your face. Your eyes. Hair. Nose. Everything. Anything. All of it.
This is love. It must be.
Days float on by like meandering clouds, the guest room slowly transforms into your room, and the thought of an apartment is abandoned. Neuvillette asks you to start helping him organize papers in his office, find the right tome he needs on Fontaine's laws from his expansive shelves. He buys you clothes in shades of blue, gray, and white, your outfit's color palette harmonizing perfectly with his. Your days are spent constantly together, going from home to the Palais Mermonia, back home, maybe going out for dinner or some other excursion like an opera or show, and Neuvillette is pleased.
Pleased because you have not tried to fight against this. Pleased that you are just as affected as he is. Pleased that he wakes every day knowing you are safe in your home. Pleased that you are his.
His grasp slowly tightens around you like a gardener lining his pruners up against a flower. His hands clasp yours. They draw around your back. Cup your cheek. Brush your lip. When a stranger finds themselves talking to you, Neuvillette's gravity draws you back in, like the earth and the moon. The stranger is simply a speck of dust in this cosmos, never to fall into your shared orbit again.
When you finally kiss after months of this slow pull, Neuvillette knows it is over. You are his. Your room is now his room. Your bed now his bed. Your love is now his love. Your life is now his life. And you know it. And he knows it. And you both know it's for the best.
He will protect you. His rose.
His star.
His love.
Forever.
331 notes · View notes
daycourtofficial · 2 days
Text
One single thread of gold tied me to you
Pairing: Eris x Rhysand's sister!reader | WC: 6.2k | Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, piv, foodplay (chocolate), oral (f and m receiving)
Summary: After a century of waiting, Eris and his mate finally have a few days to themselves to accept the mating bond.
Author's note: this is technically part of my gingerfucker series but it can be read as a standalone. Big thanks to @basketoffish for help with plotting the idea for it and for helping me edit ❤️ The people have been frothing and yearning for this and who am I deny such want any longer?
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Eris never had good timing. Born too soon, bearing the brunt of his father’s cruelties. Born into a war he was too young to fight in, but too old to stay at home. 
All of his poor timing was worth it for this perfect opportunity. Beron would be away for three days and three nights to improve relations with Tarquin, the newest High Lord of the Summer Court. Beron went alone - he perceived it as much more intimidating to go alone (perhaps inspired by Tamlin’s appearance in the High Lord’s meeting a few years ago, winnowing in completely unaccompanied). Beron failed to recognize Tamlin’s appearance was much bolder - he knew he would face scrutiny, but still made an appearance without anyone at his side. Beron merely did it because he wanted to look more intimidating.
Nonetheless, Eris was able to send word to you with enough time for you to rearrange your royal appearances to carve out this time with him - an entire three day span, just the two of you. Three days felt like a lifetime when the two of you were only able to schedule hour-long secret meetings.
Once, in a desperate bid just to have your scent on him, you two had met for a total of twenty minutes.
Your rendezvous were often short, full of imminent risk and danger of being caught. Today felt like a blessing from the Mother, as if she were granting her star crossed lovers a vacation, a peek into what life could be like - what life will be like one day.
You two just had to be patient.
Even an entire court away, Beron would know someone from the Night Court was on his land. Perhaps not immediately, but he would know before your three days were over. So the two of you met in the Winter Court, in a cabin you were gifted a long, long time ago. A cabin you’ve gone to on occasion over the years, whenever you needed to get away and be alone. You had set the trap perfectly for your family - you were getting into petty squabbles the entire week, picking fights with Cassian and Mor left and right that left the two of them reeling with annoyance.
Your brother tired of it quite quickly, clocking it for what he thought it was. 
“Perhaps you should spend a weekend away, star.”
His tone was full of concern, for this was how you always were before retreating to your hidden cabin. Irritable, crabby, unable to have decent conversation with anyone without leading them into a spiral of anger.
“I’m fine,” you reply, intentionally clipping the words to make yourself seem in a much worse state than you were. “Besides, I have some scheduled meetings this weekend.”
Rhys nods, “Feyre has agreed to take over any duties you have that can’t be rescheduled.”
You perked up at that, feeling a little bad at the generosity of his mate. You hadn’t felt easy about this plan - preying upon your family to get what you wanted wasn’t a regular occurrence for you. 
But you refused to let any negative feelings about what you were doing get in the way of seeing your mate.
“Are you sure, Rhys?”
He waves a hand, “Go, please only return once you feel rested and headache-free. Cassian is quite adept at giving migraines.”
You smile, “so no one will bother me?”
He sighs at your continued questioning, “no, star. I think we’d be too afraid to bother you, except for Amren. And she’s in Summer for who knows how long.”
He stands up, crossing the room to you, his long legs practically gliding across the floor. He wraps you in his arms, squeezing you tightly before kissing you on the top of your head. He gently sways the two of you as you wrap your arms around him.
“Thanks, Rhys.”
He lays his head on top of your own, “just send word if you’ll be gone longer than a week. I just want to know you’re alive out there.”
This cabin was a frequent rendezvous point for the two of you, much cozier than the large clearings and forests you two otherwise frequent. The cabin was more ideal, however Eris couldn’t deny how incredible it felt to be inside of you as he leaned you up against various trees in the forest, the leaves crunching beneath his boots as he thrusted over and over into you.
His cock twitched at the thought as he walked towards the front door of the cabin. The door groaned slightly as he entered, marking his entrance. He felt the slight magical barrier ripple as he passed the threshold. He shut the door behind him, taking in the small, two bedroom cabin before him. 
The place was quaint and cozy, an insult he would use to describe Rhysand’s absurdly large and ornate homes, but for you it was a testament to how infectious the comfort you radiated was.
It permeated every surface - the walls, covered in various portraits and landscape paintings, along with shelves of books and trinkets.
His scent was stale from the last time he was here, but yours was fresh, as was the smell of some delicious meats and fresh breads. He closed his eyes and leaned his back against the door, catching a glimpse of you as you pittered about the kitchen. He crossed his arms over his chest, allowing himself a moment to think of what his life could be like if the two of you were ordinary fae. 
He would come home from whatever job he had, perhaps a scholar of some kind, leaving at the same time every day to come home to his mate. 
You two would clean your house together, bickering over your inability in any universe to put dirty socks in the hamper, and how in every universe feet would continue to make Eris shudder in disgust. In any other life, he would be thrilled to experience monotony with you.
But he’s not in another life, one of openness and free-flowing adoration, one free of constant plotting and scheming, earning favors wherever he can. He’s in this one - the reality where no one knows about the two of you, because once they do it will become an inter-court political nightmare. It is a life of stolen glances, hidden messages, and secret meetings under the moonlight, but it is a life that belongs to him, when for so long his life was not his own.
Eris would love you in all lives, your soul reaching to him in every iteration and reincarnation of the two of you. If the two of you were nothing but bacteria living on the same organism’s skin, he would find you. He would know it was you, no matter what shade of organism you wore.
The bond hums in your chest, tugging you to look towards the door where you know Eris is standing and watching. You continue the task at hand, not wanting anything to miss your notice. The bond deep inside of you grows more and more insistent, screaming at you to smell him, taste him, feel him, here, here, here. He’s here, in your house, and you need to look, look, look. 
You let Eris come to you, just as you always had, just as you always will. You’re slicing bread, placing the pieces in the bottom of the bowls when the smell of petrichor and caramel hits your nose, a warm presence at your back. 
“Good evening, my fox.” 
His face burrows into your neck at the nickname, melting into everything that was you. His arms wrapped around you, hands meeting yours. His fingers pull the knife from your grip, gently placing it down on the cutting board.
“What are you doing, my evening star?” His voice is purposefully low in your ear, causing goosebumps to trail down your neck, his hands warming your fingers. 
“I’ll give you three guesses.”
His soft chuckle warms your chest, the bond constricting around your heart at his amusement.
“Are you cooking?”
“Yes, Er.”
“I’m surprised your wraiths didn’t prepare anything for you.”
“They did,” you hum, turning in his arms, his amber eyes meeting yours, not quite certain of what they’re seeing.
His hands meet your hips, his touch warm on your skin, and you circle your arms around his neck, fingers raking through his hair at the root.
He hums at your touch, his face swooping down to kiss your forehead. 
You look up at him under your eyelashes, his nose and cheeks littered with freckles, mapping out where home was. You point your head in the direction of two large picnic baskets, one of which was opened for Eris to see various jars of jams and breads.
“Why would you-” his words fall short, his thoughts racing through his mind. They stream by in words and bits of phrases, but no completed thoughts make their way through the whirl and swirl of mate, food, and bond.
He short circuits, not quite grasping what you’re getting at.
“I have never gotten to cook for you,” you shrug nonchalantly.
His eye twitches, still not understanding.
“You’re cooking… for me?” His words come out slow and uncertain, as if the mere concept of someone choosing to do something like this was absolutely foreign to him. You nod slowly, not used to seeing Eris so incapable of understanding. 
“But if you-“
“Yes.”
“Then we’ll-“ 
“Yes.”
“Are you-“
“Yes.”
He stills, his thumb lightly brushing against your hip. Your eyes are open and bright, wanting to convey to him the certainty you felt. You lightly tug on the bond connecting the two of you and he rubs his chest at the feeling.
It’s quiet as the snow falls outside, unaware of the monumental decision you had decided on once Eris’s letter had arrived earlier in the week. You had spent the past few months researching traditional autumn foods, preparing for this day. You had known for quite a while you were going to accept the bond, you just didn’t know when the two of you would have the chance to spend more than a few fleeting hours together. You had sent a silent prayer of thanks to the Mother when you received Eris’s letter, soft prayers echoing through your mind each night ensuring this would all work. 
“Is everything ready?”
His eyes peer into yours, a vulnerability he rarely lets anyone see, even you. His words come out soft and slightly timid, as if he’s worried he’ll scare you off.
“Yes, we just have to bring the food to the table.”
“May I help?” He doesn’t move towards the food, but one of his hands twitches, moving imperceptibly closer to you.
“I would appreciate that.”
It’s quiet as you two move to the food, grabbing platters and bowls to bring to the table. Once the table is full, a three course meal laid out in front of the two of you, the reality set in a bit. It wasn’t that you didn’t love Eris, but you were slightly concerned you were forcing his hand with this. 
This was always ‘someday’, but now it was here and you didn’t know how he truly felt about it. That was until he grabbed your plate, placing the still warm pita in front of you. You placed a piece of pita on his own plate, and he looked at the baba ganoush before him, its texture so unlike anything he had seen in Autumn. “What do I do?”
You ripped a piece of your pita off, dipping it into the bowl, grabbing some of the baba ganoush on it before offering it to him. He inspects the piece, before doing the same with his own piece of pita, bringing the piece to your mouth. 
“Eat. This might be the last time we’re rational enough for food.”
The two of you bite down on the pita, the warmth of the bread with the chill of the baba ganoush, the smoky, rich flavor exploding in your mouths. The room immediately shifted with the scent of your mixed arousals, but the two of you ignored it. His fingers lingered on your mouth, swiping at your lips before ripping off another piece of pita.
Heat was coursing through your veins, Eris’s emotions thrumming through you at a higher intensity. He felt electric in your veins.
You continue feeding each other until the pita’s gone and your attention shifts to the bouillabaisse. In similar fashion, the two of you poured the soup into the bowls with the bread before setting them down. You were thrumming, every part of you screamed to be closer to him, your thoughts having a background loop of mate, mate, mate.
“How did you know about bouillabaisse?”
Eris’s words send heat through you - his voice, soft and low, the actual words not registering with your insatiable need for him.
“Beg your pardon?”
His smirk is feline as he knows exactly why you didn’t hear him, but he repeats his question with no teasing.
“I um, found it a few months ago - I was in Dawn and a little restaurant served it.”
You could feel the sweat on your brow as you watched Eris’s fingers bring another spoonful to his mouth. You thought about all the things he could do with those fingers, that mouth, that tongue-
“Nobody in Dawn serves this. It is a regional dish, more specifically it is only found on the seaside of Autumn.”
Busted. 
You take another bite of the soup, the flavors so different from Night Court cuisine, but you weren’t complaining. Several of the fish in the soup were only found along the coast of Autumn and Winter, some making it as far north as Dawn.
“I may have perused some Autumn Court restaurants when I was visiting once.”
Eris stretches out the fingers of his hand, moving his long fingers in torturous preparation before placing his hand on your thigh. His touch was so warm, you began pulling at the collar of your dress to let the heat escape, biting your lip to keep the moan from escaping.
“When were you allowed in Autumn?”
“Fine,” your voice came out sharp, the room much too hot for an interrogation, “I snuck into Autumn a few months ago trying to find something to make you for this. I tried a bouillabaisse at this incredible little restaurant and I paid them an exorbitant amount of gold to teach me how to make it and to not tell anyone I was there. I slipped back in yesterday to pick up the fish in this soup.”
His fingers dance about on your thigh, and you take a quick glance down at his pants, your body growing warmer at his cock pressing across his pants, desperate to be released. You can’t move your eyes away from it - knowing how it looked, how it felt in your mouth, how it tasted - you were about to start drooling before Eris’s hand came up and closed your jaw.
“Strip.”
Eris’s words were a demand, full of power and need.
“But we still have dess-“
Your words died on your tongue as Eris began unbuttoning his shirt, your eyes caught on his lean chest, littered with freckles. You were in need, too, practically salivating at your mate’s display of his body, and you can’t quite remember why you wanted him to finish the whole meal.
He huffs over to you, his hands grabbing the fabric of your dress, ripping it in half down the middle. You gasp as the cold air meets your skin, somehow making your nipples even harder.
You stare at him wide eyed, even more aroused than before. At this point, you knew your panties were doing very little to keep your arousal from coating your thighs.
“You took too long,” he snarls, undoing the ties of his pants.
You had begun pulling the remnants of your dress off your shoulder, but stopped to watch your mate hook his thumbs into his trousers and pull them down, letting his cock free. 
You move forward, ready to jump on Eris, but his hand on your chest stops you, eliciting a whine from you. His other hand grabs the molten chocolate cake you had made, slowly lifting it out of the ramekin. He holds it delicately in his hand, the other hand on your chest moving up to your hair, tugging gently on the strands to pull you towards him.
Your chests were touching, the warmth of his body seeping into yours. He blazed with heat, his cock hard with need pressed into your stomach. His cheeks are dusted with pink and his blood was boiling inside of him, but he moved ever so slowly, his fingers meeting your chin. He looked into your eyes, the two of you the only beings in the world right now.
“My mate.”
Anything could be happening outside of the walls of this cabin. The snow could have all melted, a heat wave sending the Winter Court into chaos, and you wouldn’t know. All you would know was Eris’s gaze on you, mapping out every inch of your body so he can remember every detail correctly when he thinks about this once you two are apart. His thumb applied pressure on your chin, opening your mouth. He placed the cake in your mouth, whispering, “don’t bite, not yet.”
You moved your hands to his hips, holding onto him. One of his hands moves to help hold the cake up, his other holding onto your neck. He puts the other end of the small cake into his mouth and lightly tugs on the bond. You both bite into it, the liquid chocolate center immediately cascading down and coating both of your chests. You both make quick work of finishing the remainder of the cake, tearing and gnawing at the soft dessert until you finish it off. He catches your lips in a kiss, the taste of the chocolate a luxury on his tongue.
You jump, feet slipping slightly on the bits of chocolate that made it to the floor. Eris’s arms catch underneath your thighs, wrapping your legs around his hips. He lays you down on the table, moving his lips from your mouth, down the column of your throat, down your chest. You’re pulsing with need, desperate to feel any friction from him. You thrust your hips up, desperate to meet any feeling of him against you. His arm moves across your hips, pushing you down against the table. He shakes his head as he keeps kissing down your stomach, lifting his arm for a ring of fire to take its place around your waist.
He skips over where you want him, instead moving his head down to your thigh, licking up towards your hips. His tongue was hot as it slid up your inner thigh, lapping up the chocolate that had dripped down it. Your breathing was ragged as you felt his hot tongue growing closer and closer to you, and it felt like it was getting warmer the further it moved up your thigh. 
You looked down at him, his amber eyes that were full of heat all you can see of his face as his tongue finally slips between your folds. You moan at the contact, throwing your head back and hitting it harshly against the table. The pain didn’t register, not as Eris - your mate - was moving his tongue as if he knew every part of you, as if he knew exactly how you felt as he would warm and cool his tongue at his leisure. He lifted his mouth just an inch, his words slightly muffled by your body.
“You taste of desperation. It’s delicious.”
You moan at his words, and he flicks your clit with his tongue. His hands warm on your thighs, pressing them further apart. He slips his tongue back through your folds, your hands gripping onto his hair to keep his mouth on you. He grabs your legs, hoisting them over his shoulders before one of his hands disappears. You are writhing on the table, his grip on you lighting your skin on fire. The room grows heavier with the scent of his arousal, and you twitch your ears at the new sound in the room.
He was moaning into your pussy, the vibrations coursing through your body as you realized the hand that left you was wrapped around his cock, pumping furiously. The thought of him being so aroused at eating you out that he has to touch himself sends you over the edge, your thighs clenching over his ears as you finish on his tongue. Your breathing was heavy, and Eris’s tongue did not let up, lapping like a starved male. You pulled him up by his hair, bringing your face to his. Your tongue swipes into his mouth, tasting a combination of yourself and chocolate on his mouth. You grab his shoulders, deepening the kiss as you flip him onto his back, pressing him onto the table. His hands grip onto your hips, trying to push you onto him, desperate for any touch from you. He whimpers as you tug his hair, pulling him into you.
You place teasing bites as you move down his torso, leaving mark after mark in a line towards his happy trail. You purposefully rub your breasts against his cock, smiling up at him as he groans, your breath hot on his crotch.
You lick from underneath his shaft, your tongue slowly moving from the base to the tip before putting his cock completely in your mouth. He tasted like cinnamon with a little salt, the chocolate flavor on your tongue making him taste incredible. His hands move, gripping onto your hair as he chants your name - a prayer, a plea, you weren’t sure. Your hands wrapped around the base of his cock and his hips thrusted trying to push himself deeper into your mouth. 
You wanted to tease him about needing to touch himself while his mouth was on you, but you felt the same compulsions as you bobbed your head up and down on his cock. You resist the urge to move your fingers to yourself by digging your nails into Eris’s thighs, leaving half moon indents. His grip grew tighter on your hair, pushing your head down harder as he got closer to finishing, his moans filling the cabin as he finished, the hot taste of cinnamon filling your mouth and coating your throat as you swallow it. You pull your mouth off of him, his cock twitching again at the look you give him as you lick your lips.
He growled and you swiped your tongue up his still hard cock. He lunged for you, jumping off the table before his teeth sink onto your nipple, pulling the skin with his teeth. You gasp, pinching his nipple back in response. 
“Do you think there’s something there about eating to accept the bond and what we just did?”
You waggle your brows at him, but his eyes are a bottomless pit of black. Gone are the amber hues of fallen leaves, replaced by an endless void of hunger. You lean up to kiss him, the taste of both of you swirling between your tongues. You start walking backward, knocking into one of the chairs. He catches you, one arm hooking around your waist. 
His pointer finger moves up from your belly button to your neck, swiping up the chocolate left behind. He puts his finger in your mouth, having you suck the chocolate off. 
“Maybe we should get cleaned up.”
You smiled around his finger, swirling your tongue around it as you looked up at him from under your lashes. You nodded, taking his whole finger into your mouth. He breathes in deeply through his nose, his eyes swirling with desire before you. His other arm loops around your waist, carrying you through the cabin. Your giggles echoed down the hallway as Eris moved the two of you into the bathroom. He doesn’t set you down, shifting instead to hold you up against the wall with one arm while he turns the shower on. 
The water started cascading down the both of you, sweeping the remnants of the chocolate down the drain. Your feet hit the floor as Eris pushes the two of you forward, your back hitting the wall. The water fell over your face, making it hard to see him, but you could feel everything about him. You felt his skin on yours, your chests pushed together. You felt his emotions thrumming inside of you, bouncing everywhere, filling every available space. You had heard of the bond being accepted as an all-consuming thing, but you found any previous descriptions to be wholly inadequate. Every inch of you burned for him, thrumming with need to be near, to have him with you, to have him inside of you. 
He grabs the bar of soap from the shower, lathering it onto a wet washcloth before rubbing it against your body, rubbing the chocolate from both yours and his skin. 
“I never thought accepting the bond would be so messy.”
Eris’s hand guided the wash cloth across your shoulders, your sternum, before taking his time as he rubbed it against your breasts. His thigh slid between your legs, separating them. Lean muscle pressed against your cunt as you sank onto his thigh. His lips were on your mouth as you ground onto his thigh. He tossed aside the washcloth, his hands gripped your hips, harshly moving you against his thigh. 
“My beautiful, beautiful mate.” 
His voice was husky, echoing through the shower, further cementing that feeling he was everywhere.
“Gonna fall apart on my thigh?”
His lips move down your neck, teeth sinking into skin.
“We have all weekend for me to put every part of me to good use.”
You threw your head back, hitting the wall softly. One of Eris’s hands moves behind your head, cushioning the blow. His grip is unforgiving as he continues moving you, his thigh rubbing your clit so perfectly. Eris looked so beautiful before you, his pale skin a soft shade of pink from the heat radiating off of him. 
His irises have shrunk enough for you to see a slither of the amber you love so much. You could feel him thrumming in your chest and you swore if you looked down, the room would be alight with the gold tie between you two. You gripped his shoulders as he pressed his thigh into harder, sending you over the edge. 
You’re reeling from the orgasm, but Eris’s grip doesn’t let up. He uses his other leg to spread your legs again, and his hands move down to your ass, picking you up before sliding his cock into you. It feels right when he’s inside of you, the pounding in your head subsiding, the heat dissipating for just a moment before it was replaced with the need for more, more, more.
Your head moves across the tiled wall as Eris thrusts into you. You grip his hair, pulling his face to you again before kissing his mouth, needing to feel him everywhere. You’re all teeth as you nip and bite across his neck, up his jaw, on his earlobes. The shower does little to hide the whimper he lets out. 
His fingers grab your face, pulling you from his ear to his mouth. He kisses you hard and passionately before pulling out of you and turning you around. Your hands press into the wall as his hands roam down the sides of your body, sending chills throughout you.
One of his hands ran through your hair, wrapping it around his hand, the other wrapping around your waist, holding your back to his chest. The water streamed down the two of you, but you hardly noticed as he kissed your neck, pushing you against the wall.
You moan, pushing your ass against his cock. He growls as one of his hands traces from your hip down to your upper inner thigh, gripping tightly.
He bit your shoulder blade, pushing deeper inside of you. The pressure inside of you kept building, the water streaming across your skin growing hotter. Your blood was boiling, you weren’t sure where you stopped and Eris began. His thrusts became harder and more erratic, his fingers gripping so tightly you were sure they’d bruise. 
Eirs held you in an iron grip as he came inside of you, his release causing you to finish again. Arms braced against the wall as you panted heavily, Eris softly pulled himself out of you. His hands rubbed down your arms, and you stood up straighter, albeit on shaky legs. His eyes were roaming your body, looking over all the marks leftover from your tryst. The two of you were no strangers to rougher sex - most of the time you two were only able to satiate each other against a tree for mother’s sake. The tiles were no concern to you, but you knew Eris felt something deeper within him, guilt perhaps at how little control he had and the marks a reminder of that. Having a bond was new, but accepting the bond was utter chaos. A thousand emotions rattled through you, unsure of who they truly belonged to the most dominant ones were to protect and to fuck.
Eris slipped his arm out of the shower, his head going with it. You took the moment to gaze down at his ass, the little freckles scattered across it gave you the urge to bite the plump flesh. He came back in fully with a washcloth, and your gaze softened. You reach out, grabbing his wrist to stop him.
“Er, I don’t care, we’ll probably be going at it again in twenty minutes.”
Despite your protests, he broke free of the loose grip you had on him. He brought the cloth up under the water, letting it get properly drenched. 
“I know.” 
He moved the washcloth down between your legs, his touch impossibly gentle compared with the male who was gripping your hips hard enough to bruise moments ago.
“We’ve just never gotten to have this part before.”
You think back to all the times you two have met - in the woods, in secure cabins, in closets to find that he was right. Every moment alone the two of you had counted, and neither of you were ever able to linger for long after sex. 
Another thing the secrecy cost the both of you.
He looked to you, asking silent permission, and you nod. He moved the washcloth, cleaning the remnants of himself off of you. He rinsed the washcloth again before moving it across your skin - your stomach, your shoulders, your arms. He lingered, taking the time to clean every inch of you. He laughed, pointing out you still had some chocolate behind your ear. Once he finished, he reached to turn off the shower, but your hand stopped his. 
His eyes are assessing as you slowly grab the washcloth from him, your own eyes reflecting his previous question. He nods, and you start your own work of cleaning him. Your eyes trail his body, taking in how vulnerable he is in this moment. You hummed softly, the tune of some song you can’t recall the name of. The sound makes some of the emotions inside of you die down a bit, replaced by a calmer feeling. Eris tips his head down as you wipe at his back, the scars there almost mirrors of your own.
The cloth moves down him, but you stop to kiss a few of the scars on his upper back. Once you’re done, you drop the washcloth on the floor, wrapping your arms around his torso. Eris’s hand reaches out, shutting off the shower, but not making any indication he wants to move. 
Eris’s love sitting inside of you felt different to the love you felt for him - synonyms, perhaps. But not quite the same.
After several minutes, you grabbed some towels from the cabinets, offering one to Eris. He slings it around his hips lazily, lifting you into his arms. You had barely wrapped yourself in the towel before he scooped you up.
The two of you land on the bed, decadent in shades of blue across the massive sea of blankets and pillows. The only reminder that neither of you were in your home courts. Eris taps your chest, the reminder you felt about having to leave him leaking over to his side of the bond.
You two settle on the pillows, discarding your towels to lay beneath the large duvet. You climbed on top of him, settling on his chest. His cock grew hard again, and you moved so you could settle with him inside of you. 
You traced your fingers over his freckles, connecting them with your finger. “I can make constellations out of them,” you tell him. 
The roar has subsided enough for you to feel like a person again rather than a beast. You know it’ll come back, in minutes or seconds you weren’t sure, but you wanted to spend whatever time with him like this that you could.
Eris thrusts softly inside of you, watching your eyes look for patterns in the freckles across his cheeks.
“Perhaps you can make me a constellation that will always lead me to you.”
You chuckle, leaning forward to kiss him softly. Your mate. You feel the pit inside of you start to roar, but you swallow it down, opting instead to search inside of yourself, finding that golden thread tethering you to him, and pulling.
“It appears I already have.”
He flips the two of you, laying you on your back as he slowly puts himself inside of you again. He fills you up completely, reaching the base of his cock before stopping and just staying there. 
“Mm, Eris.”
He smiles, his arms landing on each side of your face, caging you in. He moves a few strands of hair out of your face, his thumb stroking your cheek.
He smiles down at you, his freckles dancing across his face, the sunlight illuminating his hair to look as if it were made of flame.
His fingers tangle in your hair, lightly holding on. 
“You are everything to me.” 
His voice comes out soft and slightly shaky, as if the admission were almost painful. He began thrusting slowly, but this felt different. Anyone who had ever thought Eris Vanserra incapable of being soft should see him now.
“I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.”
His thrusts became faster with each word, but not harsher. 
“I will always take care of you.”
Your fingers grip his shoulders, your thumb softly rubbing the skin.
“And I you.”
You were reaching that peak again, but this time it felt different. It wasn’t feral, the need to satiate the physicality of the bond, but rather to remind yourself that you two were bound together, forever.
“I love you, mate.”
His words have you seeing stars, and you practically feel yourself leave your body, but you hear yourself say, “and I love you,” as Eris finishes inside of you.
He collapses on you, his cock still inside of you. You both are breathing heavily, unable to get enough air into your lungs. He collapses on top of you, his arms digging beneath you to wrap you in an embrace. 
No touch was enough, even as you wrapped your own arms around him, peppering kisses into the side of his head. The two of you lay there, eventually Eris peaks his head out from your neck to watch the snow fall outside the window. You think about the many lives you could lead with Eris Vanserra - how much simpler your lives could be if you were born of different circumstances. 
But those Erises wouldn’t be the one laying on top of you now. They wouldn’t have as sharp of a tongue as he does, or perhaps their noses wouldn’t slant the same way his does. You could lead a thousand lifetimes with a thousand Erises, each one different from the next. Your thumb grazes his cheek, deciding that easy was never meant for you. It was never meant for Eris, either.
In those thousand lifetimes, the only edge they have on this one is the ability for you two to be more free about your love. 
You wouldn’t have to return to your respective homes, glamouring the scent of your mating bond from those around you in a bid to mitigate the unwanted comments from those around either of you. Beron would be excited, an intercourt mating would come with tremendous benefits for him. Rhysand would be pissed, your entire family shocked at the secret, unable to bite their tongues from disrespecting your mate with the twisted truths.
Secrets can only last for so long. They all get spoken at some point, and one day everyone will know how you have been carrying Eris’s love for years, how it has carried you for much longer than you thought, and how it will still carry you wherever you need to go.
Even when it’s in the opposite direction of him.
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#5 Astrology Observations
People with Lilith conjunct personal planet(s) really triggers jealously in others so easily. They could just be sitting somewhere doing nothing and just breathes and that sh*t really trigger people
Mercury in 8th house in Solar Return Chart means that there will be circumstances where you will have no choice but to be honest about your deepest feelings and thoughts. You will also be able to see through other people's lies and their thought patterns
Nessus doesn't always means an abuser or someone who will abuse you. It can show someone who, regardless of intentions, might put you in dangerous situations even without them meaning to. They also will be the one who might lead you to make wrong decisions or giving advice that will ruin your life
Aquarius Moon people are not robots without feelings. They are detached, but they often feel things intensely too, especially when it comes to social issues that they care about. They just don't have that warmth that their opposite, Leo Moon, have. Leo Moons that I know are so expressive and have this need to constantly express, make it known. But not Aquarius Moon. I suspect that oftentimes due to their detachment, they intelectualise their feelings so much
Sister signs can play each other's characters so well in movie roles. A Virgo can act like a Pisces so well, all their somewhat innocent or idealistic tendencies, and a Pisces can act like a Virgo so well, all with their perfectionistic and goody-two shoes demeanour
The easiest to find someone that you can get along with, almost with no effort, is someone who's Sun Signs conjunct your Moon Sign. The moon person feels deeply understood even without the Sun person trying to, and the Sun person represent all the things that the Moon person feels like always has (internally) but perhaps too shy to express outwardly
You will easily connect with the sign that the dominant sign that you have on your Solar Return Chart (for ex. you have a lot of Leo in your SR chart, you will easily connect with Leos)
You know what I find interesting with 8th house synastry? Once you experience this with someone, this create some sort of a pattern in your life that you must break. So for ex. you have abandonment issues with someone that you have 8th house synastry with. Even after you break up with them, this abandonment issues will show up again in your next relationship, even if there is no 8th house synastry with this new person. This 8th house synastry is giving you the chance to truly see your weaknesses/issues and heal them, or you will continue this pattern
Juno-Sun synastry, it's usually the Sun person who is so attracted to the Juno person. The Juno person unconsciously see that the Sun person has what they need in a partner, but the Sun person will see the Juno person as someone who represents the ideal partner (like they oh so perfect for me)
In my experience, Libras are type of people who would pick a bad company rather than being alone. Even if those friends or s/o hates them or abuse them, Libra would pick them, just so that they don't have to be alone. It's one of the reason why they have these people-pleaser tendencies. It's pathetic, really. Because the second you can't be with them all time, they will choose someone else and talk sh*t about you just to please others, while you may not be there for them all the time but you have more heart or loyalties. I'm sorry if this upsets some people, but this is my experience with them.
People with Lilith in 8th house in the natal chart are usually the ones that keep the secrets that's not even theirs to begin with. They have this aura about them that tells people that they are trustworthy, and will take these secrets to the grave. And they are, but I think it's unfair to them. Sometimes these secrets are dangerous and burdensome to them mentally. I wish that people will just keep their own secrets rather than telling others and ask these people to keep these secrets that they can't even keep themselves.
People with Mercury in Scorpio really out here thinking that they can read other people's mind while the truth is that is their own paranoia. I've heard about Scorpio placement being paranoid, but the mercury is really the worst. They will ended up accusing others of f*cked up things, and when they can't provide prove except (it's my intuition), their ego get bruised so bad.
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senanatheskenana · 3 days
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Giyuu, Sanemi, and Rengoku With Baby Fever
TW: mentions of pregnancy, Sex, fem reader
Giyuu Tomioka
He hadn't put much thought into domestic life- after all, you were his first real relationship. However, when he lays eyes on your happy smile and the way you fussed over the three younger demon slayers, he can't help the feeling that pools in the pit of his stomach. A primal need for you, for a family. He's not particularly proud of the human weakness he currently experiences but each time he looks your way, his strength melts away, leaving only his desire to create life with you.
His smile is small but amused at how you motherly coddle Inosuke, attempting to wipe the mass of dirt off his face, despite his protests. Tanjirou seems almost as enamoured by your sweet behaviour as Giyuu is.
You can tell something is different with Giyuu- the way he holds your hand is just slightly tighter, the way he looks at you ever so slightly hungrier than you've seen. He stares off into space in contented silence, and you feel he is happiest in those moments. The idea made you curious as to what he was daydreaming about.
'Three children, maybe more' he thinks, pink tinging his cheeks at feeling so soft for you. He imagines what life outside of the corp- life with you- would be like. Blissful, peaceful, connecting but of course with moments of excitement and frustration that come from raising children. Maybe your children would have his hair and your eyes- or perhaps they will look the opposite, or exactly like you or him.
His cheeks once again flare up when another thought hits his head.
'And (y/n) would surely only become more beautiful over the years'
"Giyuu~." He is snapped out of his fantasy by your hand over his. "What are you thinking about?"
He gently squeezes your hand, looking deep into your eyes with humility as he thinks through the right words to say.
"We've been married for a year, and we haven't talked about it yet. I would completely understand if you object... but i have a request, that involves both of us." you listen eagerly to him.
"Sweetheart, i will always try my best to understand your wants, there's no reason to seem so nervous," you smile tenderly at him, hands coming up to cup his cheeks. The apples of his cheeks burst into flames at your touch, butterflies erupting underneath the skin of his shuddering chest.
"(Y/N) I love you. I will always love you... And if you will be so kind, I would like to start a family with you"
He sees your face break into a smile, which makes him smile. Before he knows it you're climbing into his lap and kissing him with a passion that fills him with a need he has never experienced.
Kyojurou Rengoku
Kyojurou was sure he wanted children at some point, and as your husband, he made you aware of this, in case it wasn't for you. For the most part, your husband had great self-control.
However, it always seems to slip away when his younger brother makes a comment, about how your baby would probably have bright hair like theirs. At first, it's just that thought, but soon he's thinking about baby names, daydreaming and kicking his legs behind him giggling. You easily notice your cheerful husband becoming even more giddy than usual- not to mention far more physically affectionate.
He finds every excuse under the sun to get you under him. He takes his time, forehead pressed against yours, enraptured in pleasure. Your legs are pressed to your chest; a new position for you. The sheer depth is enough to make you dizzy, even without moving.
Kyojurou looks deeply into your eyes before kissing you passionately, sensually, as if the world is ending.
"Honey, i think we should have a baby!" he huffs out in between languid thrusts. You thought he'd never ask.
"Me too, Kyo~"
Sanemi Shinazugawa
Sanemi doesn't not want kids. He just feels he would be a bad father given all of his hangups. He worries he won't be emotionally available for a child, or might accidentally scare them when he is angry.
So this feeling is conflicted within him. On one hand, he's utterly in love with you and the way you care for Genya is heartwarming to the point of actually convincing him he might be ok if you were by his side. On the other, he was terrified of being a bad parent.
Sanemi swears you look so pretty holding your friend's new baby. You hold it like you're accustomed to it like it was yours. And you just look so fucking happy like that. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing if he- no, he couldn't just rush into these things. But you look so pretty he's having a hard time rationalising anything.
He sits beside you, peering down at the baby that tries to grasp at his fingers. It's actually sort of cute, he thinks. Then you look up at him, and he's caught off guard by a vision of you and your own baby. Your friend has to physically bite back giggles while she watches the motions of Sanemi's thoughts. She knows what's happening better than he does.
She sparks up a conversation with you to see how flustered she can make the hashira on this topic. "You know, past the halfway mark I gave up putting on my own pants- it got too annoying when I couldn't see over the bump and boobs. My husband had to help me instead!"
It seems to work like a charm. Sanemi almost zones out, thinking about how you would look pregnant. Without realising it he is salivating at the thought of your swollen chest and round tummy. 'fuck,' he thinks, 'that sounds good'
Half an hour later he's rushing to leave, hastily pulling your coat over your shoulders and waving goodbye to the baby. He didn't dislike being there in any way- he'd just rather be somewhere else with you. He tugs you down the road, looking at you with a strange new fervour, eyes darting to your lips and tummy.
Your friend closes the door behind you with a mischievous grin. "I'll give it a week before she's pregnant<3"
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mediumgayitalian · 2 days
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The satellite dish at Camp Half-Blood would be better suited as a cereal bowl.
It hardly works. It catches a grand total of nineteen channels, twelve of which are news stations, and the final seven almost never have anything playing that’s actually worth watching. But the DVD player only ever works every third month, and the strawberry plants have to be watered, so on rainy days, the sixteen of them cram into the rec room of the Big House, organised, fight-reduction seating for as long as Nyssa can tiredly maintain it, and squabble over the remote.
“It’s my turn! Give it to me!”
“Quit whining you little twerp —”
“Will! Make her give me the remote!”
“Snitch! Snitch! Sherman, beat him up —”
Nico narrowly dodges Kayla’s dirty sneaker, sniggering to himself as Will and Sherman share, for perhaps the first time in either of their lives, an identical sigh of endless suffering, each grabbing one sibling and yanking backwards. They’ve really dug their claws in, so it takes a couple tries.
“Kayla,” Will warns, both hands clamped around her ankles, “if you don’t let go in three damn seconds —”
“Ellis sucks at picking channels!”
“Everybody sucks at picking channels! We got maybe four to choose from!”
“Seven,” correct several people at once.
Will rolls his eyes. “Forgive me. I forgot about the three toddler channels the rest of y’all babies are so enthralled by.”
“As if you don’t watch Sesame Street with as much childlike glee as the rest of us, Solace.”
“Can it, Diaz. Kayla, remove your nails from his face!”
A hand tugs on his sleeve. Nico glances over to find Austin’s big, pleading eyes, and since he is a massively weak loser, apparently, he sighs, mouth twitching when Austin wiggles happily, and plunges his hand into the nearest shadow.
He digs around for a second, trying to orient himself, and smirks when he sees his hand reappear across the couch, right in between Kayla and Ellis’ heads. He waits, watching for a break. Austin watches carefully next to him, hands still around his other wrist, and when the timing is right — a twitch in Kayla’s knee indicating an oncoming kick that even Will won’t be able to stop — he squeezes. Nico darts between them, snatching the remote for himself. He passes it to Austin with a wink. Austin points it to the TV immediately, clicking it to what everyone has aptly named the ‘Grandma Channel’ — twenty-four-seven footage of gardening set to quit jazz.
Thirteen groans — one cheer by Miranda, their lone ally — sound at once.
“You’re weak as all hell, di Angelo,” Billie informs him, obviously a fake gardener. Shame.
He makes a face at her.
Despite their troubles, the peace of the Grandma Channel does not last. In what can only be a coordinated attack, Nico and Austin are lulled into a false sense of security, entranced by a particularly satisfying timelapse of a grape vine, and when their guards are down, they are ambushed. With a deafening war cry, Harley is flung bodily on top of the two of them, landing with two gleeful elbows to Nico’s shoulder and Austin’s ribs, rendering them breathless and perhaps even close to death.
“No maiming,” Austin protests, wheezing.
“I’m telling Chiron,” Nico agrees, similarly struggling to reinflate his lungs. He glances at his medic boyfriend, also known as Judas, who only shrugs, smirking. His thumb is notably smeared with grease, a consequence of touching Harley no matter how many times Nyssa forces him to shower. Traitor. “No maiming is, like, the only rule here.”
Harley climbs off of them, elbows once again violating the rule on the way off. Nico actually feels his spleen compress into the size of an atom.
“Tough!”
The little twerp hands his prize to his big sister, who points it at the screen gracefully, as if she did not just use said brother as a weapon against two innocent people. Constantly innovative, those Hephaestus children.
Nyssa, on account of having hands like steel wires and a right hook that could make Muhammad Ali fall crying to his knees, is left peacefully alone with the remote. Nico glares at her, as he often does, with equal amount of hatred and awe. His emotions are widely replicated across the overstuffed couches.
She clicks rapidly through the channels, as she always does, fast enough that the sound echoes like static along with the rain.
breaking — jump! — traffic — learn — George — crayon — soil — sale —
She hardly rests in a channel for more than a second, cutting in the middle of sentences and even words, images flashing rapidly across the screen, swirling colour and skipping melodies, steadied by the roll of thunder, the patter of raindrops, the roar of wind and away of bending trees.
kids! — buy — gun — bridge — add — spade — colour — nine — east —
Austin sighs from beside him, sinking into the couch. Nico breaks away from the hypnosis for a moment to glance at the rest of the room and finds everyone else similarly entranced; eyes half-lidded and unfocused against the still-swirling TV, heads tilted back, curled into each other, limbs slow, fingers tapping quietly.
run — neat — rose — pasta — schools — closure — Sola — bumper —
“Wait,” Will murmurs.
gym — roll — climb — bush — accident — bud —
The old couches creak as Will shifts, Kayla pushed gently to the side as he moves forward.
“Nyssa, wait. Go back.”
The rain seems to mute itself. Nico is aware, quite suddenly, of the stiff set to Will’s spine, the odd quality of his voice. Nyssa, too, must recognize it, because she glances over at him, then slowly back to the TV, pressing the channel button once and setting the remote carefully on the coffee table in front of her.
No one grabs it.
“— terrible tragedy,” says a news anchor. “Unbelievably, really, Barbara, and something so sudden —”
“No,” Will says.
“Yes, Dave, always something you read about in old newspapers but never remember happens in real life —”
“No. No.”
He reaches for the remote but misses the first time, patting blindly on the table, and the second time, too, eyes glued to the bright screen. His hand scrabbles, nails digging on the old wood, increasingly desperately, but his eyes won’t move, face won’t pivot. Nico swallows, pushing back the sting of bile crawling slowly up his throat, the dullness in his ear, muffled like his ear is turned to a soundproofed wall. The hands he tells to reach over and hand the remote to Will don’t work.
“— almost makes me think of James Dean. That’s Naomi Solace, for those just tuning in, currently in critical condition from a head-on collision with a semi in Savannah, Georgia —”
Nico’s ears white out completely.
Will’s knees hit the floor.
———
next
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sixosix · 2 days
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BABY, CAN WE DANCE THROUGH AN AVALANCHE? | LYNEY
notes 1.5k words, aether and lyney have a talk :o
previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter
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They watch in stunned silence as you storm off, ice materializing where you go. To Lyney, it’s an all-too-familiar sight. He’s seen it before: your back turned on him, and his body frozen from not just the frost but fear. Why didn’t you say it back?
Aether is able to snap out of it quickly, wiping off his hurt for the sake of chasing after you.
“Y/N!” he calls out, moving to run, but he couldn’t get too far.
Lyney whips an arm in front of him. “Don’t.”
To everyone’s surprise, it’s Lyney who says it. Lynette stares at her brother, bewildered—how, of all times, does he choose to surrender now? If anything, they expected Lyney to be the one to chase after you first. Why didn’t you say it back? But Lyney has his eyes trained on Aether, cold and calculating.
None of this would’ve happened if I never met you.
“What did she mean by that, Traveler?”
Lyney tips his head as far as it can go, blood rushing to his head and leaving him a little dizzy. To his dismay, the loveseat stays firmly in place. It would’ve been better if he fell—perhaps it would’ve hurt less than whatever the hell you two have going on.
“Are you still sulking?” Lynette asks, sitting beside him and jostling the seat.
Lyney grunts.
Lynette sips her tea, her tail flicking against his arm in a gesture of comfort. The air no longer held the tense chill in the warmth of their home, but they could still feel it. Lynette could hide it with her face, but her ears were tucked—she was nervous.
Aether’s in their home. Lyney is unhappy about this arrangement and is not afraid to show it. He doesn’t spare the Traveler a glance, doesn’t give him words of comfort. Aether has been obediently silent so far, which was somewhat weird. Lyney had been expecting Aether to rub it on his face that Lyney had been—for a lack of better words—dumped. Instead, he sits there by the chair they pulled from the dining table, looking like a distressed puppy.
“Are we not going to do anything?” Aether asks, which is the question they’ve all been thinking in their heads.
“We will,” Lyney says. Of course they will. Just not like this. He has watched you leave before, and you have returned to him eventually—he can be patient again. This is just far too delicate right now.
It has only been about thirty minutes, at most. Lyney already has a plan, and it’s not his most favorite, but he can’t face you at the moment. Or, instead, it’s you who can’t face him at this moment.
Lynette is aware of his plan, even without him saying anything. Aether obviously doesn’t have the advantage of twin telepathy, so he sits there wondering, distressed, and confused.
“I know it’s a little too late to ask this, but who exactly is Y/N to you two?” asks Aether, his voice loud in the room's dead silence.
“It’s a long story,” Lynette says.
“Would it change anything if I told you?” Lyney challenges.
“To me, it would change something,” answers Aether, open and frustratingly honest.
Lyney lowers his gaze. “Then listen. At least now you’ll understand what you got yourself into.”
When you left the House, you also left an unsettling silence that jarred Lyney even to this day; he can’t visit so freely and not bear the weight of your disappearance. It was eerie and dark, and everyone was afraid to even speak your name for the first few days—like you were dead, like you weren’t to be seen again, and even the thought of that pained Lyney like no other.
The House was no longer your home; he had to accept that eventually. But it was fun and beautiful when you were still a part of it, and he would never choose to forget nor act like it never happened, as fleeting as it was. 
When Lyney first saw you, he felt childlike wonder. At first glance, it was nothing special—just curiosity. You were beautiful and stood out amongst the other orphans, like a glow, and Lyney was just a moth.
Before the House, magic was just a means of survival. He performed for the money, hoping that he and his sister could live another day. But when he saw you, striking the air hard and fast, Lyney thought you wore it like it was something special. You were performing, too, for the eyes of praise, but he understood that you weren’t the same. You were bright, lit up with a smile. You were enjoying it. Maybe that was what Lyney lacked; maybe that was what drew him to you.
He could be wrong. Maybe it was already love by then, or at least the beginning of it.
Lyney remembered moments that he’d bet you wouldn’t. Like when his sister got her Vision, and he was left behind. He was crumpled on the floor, a pathetic mess, while her sister was thrown into the face of danger. He couldn’t sit still, but he couldn’t do anything either.
“Are you still sulking?”
Lyney whined pitifully. “How can I protect her when she’s so far away?”
You glanced at him briefly, then traced the dull tip of your weapon. “You’re twins, are you not? Have you considered that Lynette was thinking of how to protect you, too?”
“What are you getting at?”
“You’re not the only one working harder to protect the one you love. The least you could do in return for Lynette’s hard work is to stop whining and keep up with her, no?”
Lyney blinked, offended and furious, but his anger was washed over by the warm feeling he sometimes got when you talked to him like this. “Are you also working hard?” he asked, settling beside you.
“I have to.”
You felt so much older than he was. So goddamn beautiful that it felt like Lyney was forced to never look away, painfully captivated. 
But as he learned more about you, he realized a few things: You were his age; you were never older than him; you were just trying to survive; you were more alike than he first thought. It felt like when it was just him and Lynette, and he had to act brave for his sister. Only it seemed you were doing it by yourself, for yourself.
Still beautiful, but in all the wrong ways. He found contentment in this pattern of pursuit, of pushing and pulling—it was the kind of thrill that he relished above all, and he could tell that, in some part of you that you wouldn’t admit, you liked it, too.
Lyney wonders to this day where it all went wrong.
Lyney finishes his story. Lynette sits quietly by the side, both of them watching Aether curiously. Aether has his head hanging low, frowning, no doubt surprised that the children of the House have deeper stories than he expects. They are not just Fatui. They were children, too—orphans trying to survive.
Lyney hopes Aether understands.
They are orphans who have hopes and dreams and hobbies. Orphans that had motivations and banter and dumb crushes. Orphans like you and Lyney, a complication, a commotion: something that Lyney wouldn’t trade for the world (until you did). Orphans that just happened to be Fatui.
“If you had a choice, would you still be a Fatuus?” Aether asks.
”It was never a choice for me; it was simply the path we were meant to take,” Lyney says.
Aether sinks into the couch, and Lyney thinks he finally gets it.
“Tell me what she meant by saying all this is your fault.”
Aether winces. “Well, I suppose it’s only fair, right?”
And so Aether tells them both about how he really met you. It was a devised plan, albeit a failed one due to the complications of their relationship and your unfinished business with ‘Father’ and the one next in line for the throne. Even now, you have to lie about yourself and run from the backlash.
“So you were doing it because of… us,” Lynette trails off.
“And look where that got me,” Aether sighs. “I know it doesn’t mean anything, but I really am sorry. I underestimated all of you.”
Lyney snorts. “At least you’re right about one thing.”
Aether’s gaze sinks to the ground guiltily.
Perhaps, to Aether, savior of regions, known worldwide as a hero, it was difficult to comprehend. Perhaps he met too many Fatui that had been out to get him, and stabbed him in the back, but Lyney needed Aether to understand that the Fatui was a large organization—you have The Doctor, then you have Lyney and his siblings. Lyney could only hope that Aether wouldn’t become so hostile after meeting you, too bright for this world, that you got snuffed out.
“Why did you do it?” Lyney asks. For whose sake was Aether trying so hard for?
“My sister.”
Lyney’s brows raise. “Your sister?”
“I’m doing all of this for her.”
You’re not the only one working harder to protect the one you love.
Lyney supposes he can’t hate Aether that much for that. And selfishly, Lyney supposes he can’t truly hate Aether because he brought you back to him. In a vague sense of camaraderie, Lyney understands.
Aether scratches at the back of his head. “Well, you have a plan, right?”
Lynette nods. “We’re waiting for him.”
“Who are we waiting for?”
Lyney directs his gaze to the ceiling, beyond it, to the sky. If any Archon was listening…  “The only person Y/N probably trusts right now.”
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a/n this chapters very short i know but the next one is going to be posted in a few hours so theres going to be more
TAGLIST moved to comments bc tumblr is being annoying :(
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stylesispunk · 1 day
Text
'I love you, it's ruining my life' | Part ii
Joel Miller x f!reader
part one | part three
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summary: The aftermath of your confession and how all it ended, for now.
w.c: 3,9k
warnings: angst and just angst. Perhaps grammar mistakes cuz even when I edited the chapter, I tend to be stupid.
a/n: As I promised, part 2 is here! Thank you so much for all the love you gave it to the first part, I'm really happy you loved it despite the messy writing. This part will not be the end, so a third part is already in the works to end this mini story since I had to talk about the aftermath of the events in part 1 and I couldn't fit everything here, you know. Part iii may have a time jump. Happy ending or sad ending for these two?? Make your bets after reading this part. Happy reading 💌
dividers by @/saradika-graphics
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After what had just happened, you closed the door of your house with a slam, as if that would help you to silence the thump of your heart cracking with anguish. You didn't even get to savor the taste of Joel's lips on yours; they felt tainted by poison and treason creeping from the unfaithful actions of two people in a vulnerable state. You felt completely dirty by your actions; the tears streamed down your face, washing the warm hands of Joel over your checks away, with the salty rustling of his skin on yours.
After a few seconds, you recovered your composure, inhaling the smell of your soon-to-be ex-home. You looked around your living room; there were boxes containing all the memories you had made for the last eight years of your life inside, saved from the postmortem state. All the days, seconds, and years seemed illicit and foreign, and you could not stop crying.
You sat by the door, head on your knees, next to the window, stealing glimpses of a frantic Joel, who was now walking towards his car, getting away from you for real. Your heart broke even more because you knew that your confession didn’t matter and that you were destined to recall things you never did. He had made his choice. He was going to get married to another woman, and you weren’t going to witness such torture. 
You stood from the ground towards your bedroom, still crying from the hope you had that he was going to love you that way, but he didn't, and you couldn't blame him. He was a good man, one who knew how to love but not how to receive, or perhaps he didn’t want it from you.
As you retreated to your bedroom, the weight of your actions bore down on you like a crushing wave. Each step felt heavier than the last, burdened by the knowledge that you had irreversibly altered the course of your life and Joel's.
The tears continued to flow unabated, leaving a trail of salty bitterness in their wake. You collapsed onto your bed, the sheets offering little solace from the storm raging within you.
When you made your way upstairs, you didn’t know that Joel turned back towards your house, hoping to catch a glimpse of you again. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions. Guilt gnawed at him like a relentless beast, tearing apart his insides with every breath. He couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal that hung heavy in the air, suffocating him with its weight.
Every fiber of his being screamed at him to turn back, to run as far away from the mess he had created as possible. But something, perhaps a glimmer of hope or a desperate longing for closure, propelled him forward, urging him to face the consequences of his actions.
You loved him, and he loved you too. He had waited to hear those words for so many years, and now they felt like treason, and he felt like a villain.
With a trembling hand, he opened the door of this car and drove towards Tess’s house, not knowing this would be the last time you would be sleeping next to his house.
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As Joel arrived at Tess's house, he was greeted by the warm glow of the porch light and the familiar scent of her perfume wafting through the air. But instead of feeling comforted by her presence, he couldn't shake the sense of unease that settled over him like a dark cloud.
As he stepped inside, Tess's worried expression immediately caught his attention. She approached him with a furrowed brow, her eyes searching his face for answers.
"Joel, I'm so glad you're here," she said, her voice tinged with concern.
“Of course, what seemed to be so urgent?”
"I...I called you because I needed to talk to you about something." She spoke.
Joel's heart skipped a beat as he listened to her words, a sense of foreboding settling over him like a heavy weight in his chest.
"What is it, Tess?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Tess took a deep breath, her hands trembling slightly as she spoke. "I couldn't shake this feeling, Joel. The thought of you spending the night after our wedding with...with her," she paused, unable to bring herself to say your name. "It just didn't sit right with me.” She paused, “We’re getting married tomorrow, and I just need to know that she won’t ruin our lives.”
“Why would she?” Joel asked, feeling an urgent desire to defend you.
Tess hesitated, her eyes flickering with uncertainty as she struggled to find the right words. "I don't know, Joel. It's just that there's always been something between you two. Something I can't quite put my finger on."
Joel's heart sank at her words, the weight of guilt settling heavier upon him. He felt his heart exploding from the shame. He looked down at his hands, taking his time to gather all his courage and act like a man.
“I kissed her.” He confessed, and the silence sliced the skin of both. “I kissed her because I wanted to do it.”
As Joel uttered those words, a heavy silence descended upon the room, thick with the weight of his confession. Tess's eyes widened in shock, her hands trembling as she struggled to process the revelation.
The air hung heavy with tension as Joel's words echoed in the space between them, the truth of his betrayal leaving a bitter taste in the air. He could feel Tess's gaze boring into him, her expression a mix of disbelief and hurt.
"I... okay," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. "We’ll pretend it didn’t happen, but she is not coming to the wedding, and you won’t see her again.”
Her attempts to mend an already broken trust were being stabbed with a knife.
"She won't because there won't be a wedding, Tess," Joel said, his voice filled with resignation. "I can't go through with it, not like this. Not when I know that I've already destroyed any chance we had at happiness. Not when I don’t know what I feel.”
Tess's eyes widened in shock at his words, her heart lurching painfully in her chest. She had never imagined that their love could unravel so completely and that the future they had planned together could crumble before her eyes.
“And you deserved a man who didn’t put his love for you in doubt when the woman he waited to love confessed her feelings to him,” Joel said.
Tears welled up in Tess's eyes as she looked at Joel, her voice trembling with emotion. "I...I don't know what to say," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the weight of their shattered dreams.
Joel reached out to her, his hand trembling as he gently brushed away her tears. "I'm sorry, Tess," he said, his voice thick with regret. "I never meant to hurt you. I just... don't know what I want anymore."
Tess felt a surge of anger rise within her at Joel's words, the pain of his betrayal still raw and fresh in her heart. But beneath the anger, there was also a sense of resignation, a realization that their love had been built on shaky ground from the start.
"And what about her?" Tess asked, her voice tinged with bitterness. "What about her? Do you know what you want with her?"
Joel looked away, unable to meet Tess's gaze. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "I don't know anything anymore."
Tess felt a lump form in her throat at Joel's words, and the next thing Joel felt was a slap on his cheek.
Joel felt a pang of sorrow shoot through his heart at Tess's action, as if all her resentment had consumed him with the hit of her hand on his skin. Tess turned away before he could even realize it. Withit tears streaming down her cheeks, Joel knew that he had lost her for good. And though it pained him to admit it, he knew deep down that he deserved every bit of her anger and resentment.
And his thoughts drifted to you. For him, it was a feeling in his heart at the thought of not having you in his life anymore.
He had broken the hearts of two women last night, and he couldn't bear that feeling.
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Joel woke up at noon the next day. There wasn't going to be a wedding that day. He had told Tess he had kissed you because he felt it. There were tears, yelling, slurs screaming at him, and even a slap when it was completely deserved.
He lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, the events of the previous night playing out in his mind like a never-ending loop. The tears, the yelling, the slap—it all echoed in his ears, a constant reminder of the pain he had caused.
Joel knew that there wasn't going to be a wedding that day and that the future he had envisioned with Tess had been shattered beyond repair. And as he lay there in the silence of his empty house, he couldn't help but feel a profound sense of emptiness.
But even as his heart ached with longing, Joel knew that he had to face the consequences of his actions. He had hurt Tess, shattered her trust, and broken her heart, and he couldn't ignore the pain he had caused.
With a heavy sigh, Joel dragged himself out of bed and made his way to the kitchen. He poured himself a cup of coffee, the bitter taste doing little to chase away the bitter taste of regret that lingered in his mouth.
As he sipped his coffee, Joel knew he had a long road ahead of him. He had to find a way to make amends and earn back the trust and forgiveness of those he had wronged. And amidst it all, he vowed to do whatever it took to hold onto the love he felt for you and to fight for a future where you could be together, despite the odds stacked against them.
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Joel had met Tess two years ago. At first, it was something cosmic and faster, like spending some time together after he had fixed her house, but then the pages between them started to get written and Joel began to spend less time with you. You tried to dismiss the gut-wrenching feeling consuming your void inside, but you promised him to take care of Sarah, while he had taken the chance to bet on love once again.
He deserved it, but you wanted to be the one, and you consumed yourself into your own pity just for one glimpse of his smile, hoping someday he would notice you that way.
It was two months later when Joel invited you to meet Tess for the first time. As you stepped into the cozy café where they had arranged to meet, a pang of bittersweet emotion tugged at your heart. You couldn't deny the twinge of jealousy that gnawed at you, knowing that Joel was introducing you to someone who could potentially become his wife someday.
Despite the ache in your chest, you plastered on your best smile, determined to be supportive for Joel's sake. After all, you had promised to always be there for him, no matter what.
As Tess walked in, her eyes lighting up at the sight of Joel, you couldn't help but feel a pang of envy. They were already sharing a secret language you would never get to understand. She was everything you weren't—beautiful, confident, and effortlessly charming. And as Joel introduced you to her, the weight of his hand on your shoulder felt like a silent reassurance, a reminder of the bond you shared as best friends.
You exchanged pleasantries with Tess, forcing yourself to push aside the tumult of emotions swirling inside you. You laughed at her jokes, engaged in small talk, and did your best to be the supportive friend that Joel needed you to be.
But beneath the façade of your smiles and laughter, your heart ached with a sense of loss. You were already grieving your friendship with Joel, as if you were feeling the distance growing between you both, as if his introduction of Tess marked the beginning of a new chapter—one where you would no longer be his sole confidante and companion.
And as you watched Joel and Tess interact, their laughter mingling in the air like a melody of happiness, you couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to stand in her shoes—to be the one who captured Joel's heart and made him smile in that way.
But despite the ache in your chest, you pushed aside your own desires and fears, burying them beneath layers of friendship and loyalty. Because in that moment, all that mattered was Joel's happiness, even if it meant sacrificing a piece of your own.
You made sacrifices for the people you loved.
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As Joel's thoughts drifted back to the present, he tried to recall all the times he missed the way you glanced at him full of love, and he didn’t even notice. Even when he was the one looking out beyond the simple glimpses,.
He felt like a fool. Joel sat in the quiet solitude of his house, contemplating the light of the sun creeping through the window. His thoughts drifted to you once again and again. He knew that he needed to come to talk to you later to make amends for the pain he had caused and perhaps even begin to write a new chapter in your relationship. But deep down, he also knew that he needed time to heal himself and mend the wounds of his own heart before he could hope to repair the damage he had done to yours.
Lost in his thoughts, Joel was jolted back to reality when the sound of the door opening caught his attention. Turning his head, he watched as Tommy stepped into the house, a tired Sarah sleeping in his arms. The pitying glance that Tommy shot him didn't go unnoticed, a silent reminder of the wreckage of his almost-married life.
Joel offered a weak smile in return, his heart heavy with the weight of his own guilt and remorse. He knew that he had let everyone down—Tess, you, and even himself—and he couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment that hung over him like a dark cloud.
But as he watched Tommy and Sarah disappear into the other room, Joel knew that he couldn't wallow in self-pity forever. He had to find a way to pick up the pieces of his broken life and move forward, even if the road ahead seemed daunting and uncertain.
Lost in his thoughts, Joel didn't notice when Tommy returned to the living room, his expression a mix of concern and confusion. "Hey, Joel, why didn't you tell me?" Tommy asked, his voice tinged with worry.
Joel blinked, snapping out of his reverie as he turned to face Tommy. "Tell you what?" he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.
"Why didn't you tell me that “bubu” was moving out?" Tommy clarified; his tone was laced with concern. "I saw the moving truck leaving.
Joel's heart sank at Tommy's words, a wave of realization washing over him. He remembered now—the conversation from last night, your tearful confession that you were leaving for good. "She couldn’t be serious," he had whispered, the words heavy with disbelief and desperation.
Without another word, Joel stepped away from the couch, his movements heavy with purpose as he made his way towards the door. Ignoring Tommy's calls behind him, he pushed open the door and stepped outside, only to be met with the emptiness of your house next door.
The sight of your empty home, stripped bare of all its memories, hit Joel like a punch to the gut. The realization that you were truly gone, that he had let you slip through his fingers without a fight, left him feeling hollow and alone.
With a heavy heart, Joel sank to his knees on the doorstep, the weight of his regrets crushing him beneath their unbearable burden. And as he gazed up at the empty windows of your house, he couldn't help but wonder if he had lost you forever.
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It was a warm summer afternoon when Sarah said her first word. You, Joel, and Sarah were lounging in the living room, playing with her favorite toys.
As Sarah babbled and cooed, her tiny hands reaching out to grasp at the colorful shapes before her, you couldn't help but feel a sense of joy and wonder wash over you. Watching her grow and learn had become a highlight of your days, a bright spot in an otherwise ordinary existence.
“Bubu”
Joel's face lit up with pride and joy as he scooped up his daughter, a mixture of awe and amusement twinkling in his eyes. "Did she just say her first word?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with wonder.
You couldn't help but laugh at Joel's playful jealousy, knowing that he was only teasing. "Oh my god, baby!" you cooed, reaching out to gently stroke Sarah's soft cheek. "You're just too clever for your own good, aren't you?"
"Bubu," Sarah repeated, her eyes sparkling with innocence as she reached out towards you, her chubby fingers grasping at the air.
"I can't believe she didn't say 'father' first," Joel joked, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips.
You chuckled at Joel's comment, feeling a surge of warmth fill your heart at the playful banter between father and daughter. "Don't be jealous, Joel," you teased, giving him a gentle nudge. "I'm 'Bubu'—that's a tough title to beat!"
And as Sarah continued to babble and coo, her laughter filling the room with its infectious joy, you couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging there.
From that moment on, "Bubu" became your nickname, a term of endearment that Joel had bestowed upon you in honor of Sarah's first word.
And though the years had passed since that day and Sarah had long outgrown her baby talk, the nickname had stuck. It had become a symbol of the bond you shared with Joel and her, a reminder of the love and affection that had blossomed between you over the years.
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Back in the present, Joel sat alone in his bedroom, the weight of his regrets heavy on his shoulders. The memories of the events that had unfolded in recent days weighed heavily on his mind, filling him with a sense of profound sorrow and remorse.
As he sat in the quiet solitude of his living room, Joel couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that seemed to permeate the air around him. The absence of your presence in his life had already left a void that seemed impossible to fill, a gaping wound that refused to heal.
And your letter on his hands weighs like the steam of a rose, making his hands bleed as the words written on it punctuate deep wounds in them.
“Joel,
As I sit down to write this letter, my heart feels heavy with the weight of everything that has happened between us. There are so many words I want to say and so many apologies I want to offer, but I know that mere words can never truly express the depth of my regret and remorse.
I want you to know that I never meant to hurt you and that every choice I made was made out of fear and confusion. But I know that my actions have caused you pain too, and for that, I am truly sorry.
I know that things between us may never be the same again and that the trust we once shared may be irreparably damaged. But I need time and space to heal and to find a way to live my life away from you.
I want you to know that I love you, Joel, more than words could ever express. You have been my rock, my confidant, and my closest friend, and the thought of losing you fills me with a pain that is almost too much to bear. My biggest expression of love is letting you go.
Please know that I will always cherish the memories we shared together, the laughter, the tears, and the moments of joy and sorrow that we experienced side by side. And no matter what the future may hold, those memories will always hold a special place in my heart.
I hope that one day we will be able to look back on this time with a sense of gratitude, knowing that it was the challenges we faced together that ultimately brought us closer. Until then, know that you are always in my thoughts, in my heart, and in my prayers. And know that no matter what happens, I will always love you, now and forever.
Have a wonderful wedding and a happy marriage with Tess. I hope you know you deserve to be loved.
I’ll miss you and Sarah so much."
With all my love,
Bubu or you can just call me by my real name now.
As Joel read the words of your letter, each sentence pierced his heart like a dagger, reopening wounds that had barely begun to heal. The weight of your words pressed down on him like a suffocating blanket, leaving him feeling numb and hollow inside.
He hadn’t gotten married, and you thought he had. You left thinking he got married to another woman.
The realization that you were truly gone, that you had made the agonizing decision to leave him behind, sent a wave of despair crashing over him. He felt as though the ground had been pulled out from beneath him, leaving him adrift in a sea of uncertainty and pain.
Tears welled up in Joel's eyes as he read the final lines of your letter, your words of farewell echoing in his mind like a haunting refrain. The emptiness of your absence loomed large in the room, a stark reminder of all that he had lost.
With trembling hands, Joel clutched the letter to his chest, as if holding onto it could somehow keep you from slipping away from him completely. But deep down, he knew that no amount of pleading or begging could change your mind, that you had made your decision, and there was nothing he could do to change it for now.
You were truly the biggest loss of his life; there was too much to grieve and yet so much to hold onto. He was going to go back for you, but he had to heal that part of him that pushed you away from him and let you find yourself before he could come back into your life again.
.......
I'm tagging people who asked me and those who asked for a part 2, if you want to be removed you can tell me 💌
💌 taggs: @immywonderdefender @sarahhxx03 @powellssaturn @ifall4dilfs @harriedandharassed @skysmiller
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entomolog-t · 1 day
Text
Here birdies, come get your breadcrumbs brainrot.
This ones pitifully soft for you guys.
Imagine a sizey dynmamic where they've just gotten used to eachother. My mind immediately goes to human/borrower given some cultural differences that could come into play but really this works with any sizey dynamic.
So the pair has gotten to the point where they're comfortable with touch. The borrower testing their limits, walking on them, sitting on them etc. They find hands especially comfortable with how soft they are.
The human is lounging on a couch, one leg handing off, and the borrower, instead of asking to be lifted up, just does things the borrower way and climbs their pantleg up. They go to walk up to the humans chest to strike up a conversation but fall short as they reach the abdomen.
Oh.
It's soft.
Frankly unless the person is absolutely shredded to the gills, most body types are gonna have at least some softness, especially at that size, so this scenario can fit a myriad of body types.
They, possibly a bit too comfortable with the human, and not at all familiar with what might be a bit awkward, flop down saying something particularly embarrassing like "Oh- you are soft."
Maybe borrowers like softer/heavier frames, maybe due to their small size they don't hold weight very long- but regardless, they don't see the act as intimate or embarrassing (whichever avenue you're heart wants).
Perhaps the human is a bit insecure, or maybe its just something so out of the blue and oddly intimate that they are just flustered to max. They try to move their friend, but now that an area has been put off limits?? Its far more enticing to the borrower, who's now dubbed it their favorite spot.
"Noooo! It's comfy!"
The human is red. Face burning all the way up to the tips of their ears.
When they realizes it flusters their friend?? Even better. They get a little rise out of the way they squirm, not used to feeling like the one that holds all the chips.
YOU GUYS SEE THE VISON?? YOU GUYS PICKING THIS UP???
UGH. Gimme.
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euthymiya · 2 days
Text
society of brilliance ft. veritas ratio
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in which you come home and soothe veritas and his insecurities in a shared bath—which consists of you making a society just for the two of you. luckily, it’s more than enough to ease his troubled mind
contains: gender neutral reader ; non sexual nudity ; shared baths ; slight references to veritas character story iii ; reverse comfort ; veritas is not taking his lack of invitation to genius society lightly :( ; i invite you all to join my nous hate club
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veritas doesn’t greet you when you come home. you’d be disappointed any other time, but the glow of light under the cracks through the bathroom door tells you precisely why he’s not there to greet you—you can’t help but be endeared.
so you pad into the bathroom, grinning softly as his head lifts from resting against the edge of the bathtub, eyes opening to glance over your figure.
they brighten a bit when they take in the view of you.
“no book?” you raise a brow, mildly shocked.
“is it hard to believe i’d like to relax without reading?” he closes his eyes again, relaxing once more as he listens to you shed your clothing.
“well, i suppose not,” you chuckle, “but you’re a bit…”
“go on,” he presses dryly, “finish your thought.”
“a bit uptight. i don’t know if you can relax without reading something or another.”
it’s cheeky, the way you bite your lip and suppress a grin, watching as he rolls his eyes (but he could never hope to hide the fondness in them, even if he tried). you reach over one the last of your clothes drop to the floor, hand cupping his cheek as he sighs and melts into your palm.
“well, i certainly won’t be relaxing now that your presence is here to disrupt my peace,” he quips, letting a smug grin of his own stretch over his cheeks as you huff.
“long day?” you murmur, tracing your thumb along his skin soothingly as he hums, pressing closer into your touch, “it must be if you couldn’t wait long enough to greet me.”
“my apologies darling,” he says quietly. you frown a little, tracing the darkening circles under his eyes as your thumb travels higher across his face. “i’m afraid my mind was a bit occupied.”
“oh veritas.”
it’s delicate, the way you say his name. fragile, like he’s one moment from sinking into the water from the weight of his mind, unable to resurface for a breath of air. veritas has been different since accepting the invitation from the ipc—a bit more defeated, perhaps. a lot more distracted.
you pull your hand away, much to his displeasure, waving it to gesture him forward in the tub as he looks at you with creases building in his forehead.
“but—”
“don’t argue for once, you difficult man,” you scold, “just do as i say.”
“how commanding,” comes his reply in a half-hearted scoff. he listens nonetheless, inching forward so you can sit yourself behind him, sinking into the warm water as you collect him in your arms and pull him to lean against your chest.
he relaxes instantly. more than he could before your arrival, like the presence of you makes breathing easier, more simple. in and out, inhale and exhale. his chest rises and falls under your hand, slow circles smoothing over the firm muscle as his head falls back against your shoulder.
veritas doesn’t let you hold him often—he prefers the weight of you in his arms, but sometimes it’s nice when you take on his weight, too. when his mind is heavy and loaded with the endless thoughts of his. and you like it too, the feeling of him pressing into you, the feeling of him settled into your hold as you keep him afloat.
you break the silence first, pressing a kiss into his head as you whisper, “care to enlighten me what’s going on in that head of yours?”
“are you sure you can handle it? i have a rather advanced thought process,” he teases.
“i’d say your mind is regressed,” you snort, squeezing the rubber duck floating in the water a small distance away.
you can practically see his pout even if it’s not in your line of sight as he clicks his teeth and says in an offended tone, “being intelligent doesn’t mean i have to deny myself of a few simple joys.”
“aren’t i the only joy you need?” you bat your lashes, kissing the back of his neck as he chuckles.
“i suppose you are sufficient enough, yes.”
“just sufficient?” you gasp, biting his shoulder playfully as he shakes against you with soft laughter. “if you don’t love me, just say that.”
“there you go again,” he hums in amusement, shaking his head as he tilts his head and eyes you with an endeared glint in his eyes, “always so theatric over the most trivial of causes.”
“someone has to keep things interesting. your idea of fun is picking apart a student’s thesis.”
“i enable them to grow,” he corrects, thoroughly unimpressed as he purses his lips and gives you a dry look. “it’s a favor, really.”
“i don’t know what to do with you. too smart for your own good.”
he sighs, slumping against your figure as he quietly mumbles, “perhaps not smart enough.”
you frown, the edges of your mouth curling in an unhappy twist downwards as you process his words. veritas is undoubtedly brilliant—you’d never thought he’d question the fact. of course, he’s tried time and time again to catch the gaze of nous, and of course, you’ve always known there’s a lingering air of self deprecation at his lack of success.
but you never thought him to doubt himself—not of his capabilities, not of his brilliance. his brilliance is the most beautiful thing about him, you think. he’s so quick to understand things—like how to figure you out like it’s easy and simple. how to love you in ways you didn’t even know you want to be loved. how to read you before you understand your own mind.
he’s so bright, so willing to share his light so you can glow too, unwilling to see you as a mere dimness beside him.
you tighten your arms around him, nuzzling your nose into his cheek as you press sweet, feathery kisses to his skin.
“if you consider yourself not smart enough, i fear for what you think of my intelligence.”
“i think you’re brilliant,” he says instantly, “there’s no doubt.”
“then why doubt yourself?”
he’s silent. you know the answer, even if he doesn’t want to say it. because if not smart enough to be acknowledged by the aeon he’s dedicated his aspirations to, the aeon that stands to represent the very purpose of his existence, the aeon that signifies the embodiment of wisdom itself—how can he consider himself enough?
how can you consider him enough? he wants to ask, but the words never form on his tongue, caught in his throat in a lump he can’t even swallow down. it’s stuck, persistently lodged and silencing him as he lays limply in your arms.
“oh, veritas,” you say with so much gentleness, he sighs shakily at the sound of his name from your tongue. so sweet, so pleasant—like it’s dipped his honey from the comb. “you are far too capable for it to be a cause for question.”
“am i?” he chuckles dryly, lips tugging ruefully into a painful smile, “perhaps i’d have reached my goals then, wouldn’t i?”
“perhaps it’s not your intelligence that separates you from the genius society,” you murmur thoughtfully, combing wet fingers through his hair, scratching tenderly at his scalp as he shivers at your touch.
“then, pray tell, what would it be, darling?” he asks, indulging you.
“your compassion, maybe. you’re of the few geniuses that don’t forget what it means to be human. i don’t think a machine declared as the face of intelligence has the capacity to understand that.”
“you shouldn’t speak of the divine like that,” he snorts.
“nobody is as divine as me,” you reply with a giggle, earning a tender squeeze at your thigh as he smiles at you with a roll of his eyes.
“is that so?”
“you don’t agree?”
he turns, kissing the pout off of your lips as he whispers, “oh, i do. i certainly do—you’re of the most divinest of beings in all of the cosmos. a truly magnificent…piece of work.”
“i’ll ignore that last part just for today,” you say pointedly. you peck his lips again, and again, and when he settles deeper into your chest, relaxing against your body, you tighten your hold around him. “but i hereby declare you an honorary member of the society of brilliance—”
he cuts you off with a short. you whine, slapping his arm in protest as he stifles his laughs.
“and just how many members are in this society?”
“currently two,” you glare, “but it’s at risk of becoming one if you mock it any further. it’s a very serious organization.”
“sorry, sorry. it won’t happen again,” he poorly fights back a grin. (and he could never hope to successfully hide a smile around your presence, he’s sure such a feat is impossible. you write joy on his features as easy as pen on paper).
“it better not. this society is far more sophisticated than that child’s play of an organization…society for geniuses, was it?”
“genius society,” he correct, playing along.
“oh yes,” you nod, pretending to snap in recognition, “that’s the one. such an undignified group of individuals. a shame—they had potential. it’s a good thing we’re not like them.”
“a relief indeed,” he smiles.
it’s so raw, so real, so pure, he can’t help but twist in your arms and press his lips to you, hoping to physically share the joy of you evident in the curl of his mouth. the dimple in his cheek. the crinkles of his eyes.
you’ve written yourself into every part of him, so seamlessly intwined with his body and mind, it’s difficult to doubt himself. because to doubt himself is to doubt you, and veritas could never hope to doubt you. not when you’re so divine, so bright and beautiful, so precious.
a wonder to society.
he’s lucky to be acknowledged by such brilliance.
“you’re the most capable man i know,” you whisper against his lips. he hums in satisfaction as you peck them gently before adding, “i have very high standards, you know.”
“i’m relieved i’ve met them. my greatest achievement to date.”
“i’m glad you’re wise enough to realize as such.”
“is my spot in your exclusive society secured then?”
“hmm. i’ll think about it—you’re still on thin ice.”
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if nous has 0 haters im dead. anyway. veritas, i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you. did i mention i love you
let my man into genius society!!!! he belongs there more than anyone else!!!!! actually tbh he’s too good for that group of ppl (i say this but ruan mei is my gf sorry queen ur the exception)
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