#A Natural Glow from Within | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

itsswritten · 17 days

Text

finally.

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader, Nessian (platonic) x reader, fluff

Word Count: 3.5K

Warnings: Pregnancy reveal, mentions of infertility/struggles falling pregnant, symptoms of pregnancy.

Summary: After years of trying and learning to let go, you are finally gifted your beautiful baby miracle miracles.

Wings Universe

“Gods you really are looking radiant today, Flower!” Elodie beamed, nudging you gently with her shoulder.

The sun was bright among the wild blossoms, sunlight filtering down to touch your skin with a feverish kiss. The season was slowly shifting from Spring to Summer. Plants were growing larger, petals spreading wider, the pollen in the air stronger. There was a buzz among the land of the Night Court, as nature geared itself for this transformation. You had felt the change in temperature, noticed how the rays licked your skin. Leaving yourself and your friends glowing, sunkissed, glimmering from working in the meadows all day.

But radiant? That was not the word you would use.

Elodie’s compliment had your brows furrowing gently, bringing your dirt covered hand to wipe the bead of sweat that threatened to roll down your cheek. You weren’t sure how to take the compliment. It described the opposite of everything you were feeling.

Perhaps bloated, and sluggish was more accurate. Out of sorts? You couldn’t quite figure out why, there had been no changes to your routine. Yet everything about you felt, well, just different.

Even Azriel had noticed some subtle changes. Ever the Spymaster noticed everything, especially about his precious mate. Or so he thought. He had mentioned the other day that your scent was sweeter than usual. The typical tones of vanilla and honey were weaved in with a hint of something else he couldn’t quite decipher. Azriel had taken it upon himself to touch every inch of your skin to uncover what, only to come to no answer.

That had been a long night. A night of caresses and grazes. Not that you were complaining.

Glancing down at your fingers spread within the cool damp soil of the meadows, they flexed under the sponginess of the dirt. You could feel the vitality pulse beneath your fingertips before pulling them out. Glancing upon the skin that hadn’t been touched by dirt yet. Radiant? Perhaps. You always had a glow to you, all fairies did. That unexplainable aura that lit up any room. But maybe just maybe, you had been shining a little brighter.

Maybe.

Casting a fertilising charm within the ground had been today’s task. Along with your usual working group you had headed to the meadows and woodlands on the outskirts of the Night Court. This particular part of your job, the more physical aspect, was one you usually relished in. The ache of your muscles and bones at the end of a hard day of graft, usually, gave you some kind of instant gratification. But fatigue was plaguing you.

You had been sleeping more than usual. Being a Fairy meant you were always rose with that hot shining beacon in the sky, but there had been numerous mornings recently where Azriel had to coax you from your slumber. The sunshine no longer acting as your alarm. Azriel would rouse you with whispered compliments and gentle kisses. Sometimes, his shadows would stir you too, brushing your skin with their cooling touch.

There had even been times when Azriel had let you sleep in. Never a working day of course. Gods be damned, Azriel knew better than that. A day missed at the meadow was the end of the world. Or at least your world. Azriel learnt in the early years of friendship that you took your duty very seriously. So on the days where he knew you had nowhere to be– nowhere other than his arms. He let you sleep.

“Honestly y/n you have this glow about you…” Elodie continued, turning fully to you now her own hands pulling out of the soil. She gently brushed them down her honey coloured dress, her apron picking up the soil as she wiped them. The sun cast a gentle glow across her deep skin, golden eyes glinting with curiosity. A curiosity you wanted to question but before you could, the call for lunch was bellowed across the meadow.

Food wrapped in little gingham cloths were passed round, a parcel finding its way to your lap. You were starving you realised, as your tummy made a small groaning noise. Hastily you unravelled the packed lunch, the sweet recognisable scent filling the air around you, a smile spreading on your plump lips at today’s choice.

Cake and jam. Your favourite.

The little parcel was packed with nuts, berries, and veggies. But your sweet tooth had your fingers itching to pick up the sponge cake. Licking your lips gently, you brought the sweet slice, covered in a slab of strawberry jam to your lips. Taking a bite of your favourite sweet treat.

Only it wasn’t sweet.

Instantly you gagged.

The chewed up cake quickly came rolling out of your mouth as you discreetly caught it in your hand.

“Is the food off?” Elodie hushed quietly, turning to you as she inspected your lunch.

Your group always took turns bringing in food for the day. And you truly couldn’t knock your friends baking. Perhaps a little stereotypical, but fairies were very domestic. Not only great with plants and gardening, but also sewing, crafting, and of course baking. Gus in particular, whose cake you had just spat out was probably the best baker of all the Hollow.

Shaking your head quickly, you secretly hid the chewed up cake underneath your berries. Your tongue swilling the metallic taste the cake had filled your mouth with. You couldn’t bear Gus finding out you’d spat out his food. The poor male would be heartbroken.

“No, no it isn’t. It’s fine I promise. I don’t know what came over me,” you hurried out a whisper. “I’ve been feeling a little off recently. Maybe I’m under the weather.”

Placing her lunch to the side, your friend looked at you with her deep warm eyes, concerned etched into her brows as she gently pressed the back of her hand on your forehead.

Chewing your lip you let your friend examine you. “You don’t have a temperature…” she muttered, more to herself than to you as she began to fuss.

Leaning closer then, her hands clasped around your cheeks. Her grip was slightly firm as your lips were squished into a pout. She didn’t notice though, not as her eyes began to quickly flicker over every line and curve of your face. Her meticulous scrutiny not letting up. A glimmer of something winked across her face, catching her off guard if only for a second before her brows furrowed.

Then she began to sniff you.

“El, what are you doing?” You asked, tone annoyed and bashful, as you swatted her looming face away lightly. She was naturally quite a tactile fairy, but even this was a bit much for her.

Elodie had sat back now, her eyes widening. It was as though you could see in her eyes the pieces falling into place, but for a puzzle you weren't aware of.

“Thank the Mother,” she whispered, her lips stretching to a smile, before she clasped your hand pulling you away from the group.

“El?” You were annoyed now. Your fingers were flexing at your sides, as she had pulled you into a field filled with tulips. The pink and orange hues swayed gently in the breeze, as an uneasiness began to roll over you.

“It all makes sense now. How you were so emotional when you saw those baby hedgehogs the other day–”

Shaking your head, you lifted your hands in confusion. You didn’t understand.

“Your scent, your glow…your wings!”

There was an uncomfortable rising feeling under your skin at the signs your friend began to mention, the symptoms you knew all too well that were rolling off her tongue. You knew them so well because for a period of time you had analysed every part of yourself hoping to see these aspects, only to not ever see a glimmer.

It couldn’t be?

Quickly glancing over your shoulder, you squinted to take a hard look at your wings. Furling the iridescent membranes closer to you, as you examined the very appendages your friend was peering so intently at.

There was nothing really different…except maybe there was. You squinted harder.

The tips.

They’d turned a darker pink.

Your heart was in your throat, an audible gasp leaving your lips as you turned to get a closer look. Spinning in a circle, round and round. Only to find the exact thing Elodie had noticed.

“Wait, Elodie. No, it can’t be?” your lip quivered as realisation began to sink in.

You and Azriel had decided two years ago that you wanted to expand your family. Especially seeing your loved ones with their own growing families. Feyre and Rhys had Nyx and Selene. And of course, Nesta and Cassian recently had their little Athena.

Over the years you had tried everything, taking tonics, eating certain foods, you had even scheduled a very meticulous conceiving plan. But nothing worked. There had been numerous appointments with Madja, and even the healers and midwives of the Hollow. But everything you did was futile. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t fall pregnant.

There was a period of time your mind tore you apart. Speculating and obsessively analysing the possibilities of why you couldn’t conceive. That perhaps it was you and Azriel that weren’t compatible. Biologically. That the Mother had made a mistake with you. That maybe things would have been different if you were Illyrian, not ‘lesser’ fae. That your own body was not strong enough to nurture his offspring. Defective somehow.

That duration of your life had been hard, and even harder to move on from. But with time, and endless love and support from your mate you eventually let go of that dream.

But now, that slither of hope was growing brighter than the summer sun beaming down on you.

Eloide, your longest friend. Had her hands clasped around yours. Her own eyes filled with a watery brim, mirroring your own.

She nodded with a smile.

You were pregnant.

𓇢��

Azriel stood darkly behind his High Lord who was seated casually at the head of the meeting. Azriel was positioned on the left, Cassian on the right. The perfect guards to the Night Court. The large obsidian table stretched across the room. High Lords littered down the long ornate slab, all wearing the colours of their respective court. A few of Rhys’ closest alliances had joined for this gathering, discussing borders and peace treaties.

The meeting had begun in the morning, and by the stacks of documents officials were passing round it didn’t seem to be letting up anytime soon.

Azriel was focused, stood clad in his Illyrian leathers, blue syphons gleaming as the muscles in his jaw flexed. Despite this being an era of peace, with so many High Lord’s and emissaires in the room he was on high alert. His shadows gently grazed along the floor of the room as Azriel stayed attuned to the room's conversation.

One of his shadows seemed restless though, vibrating slightly behind his wing before curling up to his ear. Revealing nothing but nervous energy.

With a subtle jolt, Azriels wings unfurled slightly as he felt a small ripple down the bond. It was skittish and nervous, unease seeping from you down the thread.

Cassian gave Azriel a sideways glance, an unspoken question if everything was okay. But Azriel only stood straighter for his answer, reclaiming his composure as he sent a gentle vibration down the warm glowing bond.

Is everything okay, my love?

You were quite a passionate soul, an empath. Oftentimes, involuntarily, Azriel would feel all types of emotion spill down the bond. It was one of the reasons he loved you, a quality he found endearing. How open to love you were, how you felt the sorrow and joy of others wholeheartedly. But this uneasiness left him unsettled.

Azriel was only met with silence on your end. Spurring him to send another ripple. His shadows started to become more restless, spreading and striking behind his wings subtly, as if displaying the uneasiness of their master or perhaps they were twitching out of eagerness for something else– for someone else.

Azriel was usually quite a composed male, cool and collected was the blueprint of his facade. Yet, when it came to you and your welfare, any patience went quickly out the window.

He was about to send one of his shadowy tendrils to look for you, to check you were okay in the meadows. Also on the verge of sending another question down the bond. Only for the large oak doors to swing open with a force that flushed the room with a gust of wind.

You.

It was you, his beautiful shining mate.

A very beautiful dishevelled mate, however.

You were flushed, cheeks hot and rosy as you stumbled into the large meeting room. Your lovely pink dress was covered in soil, the lacy strap hanging off your shoulder. The flowers you’d braided into your hair that morning were hanging limp only by a few strands. Pink hues of light flickered across the room, as it became obvious to everyone your beautiful wings were unfurled behind you.

There had been no stopping you once you’d got your confirmation, you had flown urgently to River House. Storming through the hallways with a haste one wouldn’t usually associated with such a delicate fairy.

But you needed him. You needed your mate.

You needed Azriel, and no meeting, no court officials or High Lords were going to stop you.

Your eyes instantly found those hazel beacons, eyes locked in on your handsome shadow of a lover. If you weren’t so encaptured by him, you may have noticed the panicked scrape of Rhys’ chair as he stood in concern, or how Cassian left his post towards you. Hand twitching by his sword, ready to strike at any recognition of the danger that must have caused this display by you.

If you’d been listening you might have noticed how the room had fallen quickly into a silence, all heads snapping to you. Momentarily, eyes glazing over the iridescent lights that were now reflecting off your wings.

A very rare sight.

“What a beauty…” someone purred, although you didn’t hear them.

Azriel was beside you in mere seconds, his shadows consuming you protectively moving you slightly into the pocket realm. The tendrils coiled on the corners of your vision so you could only see Azriel, who tenderly had a hand pressed against your jaw, thumb gently grazing the dirt spread on your face. His other arm protectively wrapped around you pulling you close.

Something must have happened Azriel concluded. Fear seeped into his mind as he began to imagine the worst.

Your energy, the vulnerable look in your eyes and tousled appearance had Azriel reeling. Itching to figure out what had caused this. Had a danger broken into the court? Had his shadows missed something? Were you hurt?

“My love, what is it? What’s wrong?” there was an urgency in his tone.

You shook your head, tears rolling down your cheeks. Azriel was confused. You were in a state of disarray, but he could feel nothing of the sort through the bond. Instead there was an overwhelming feeling of joy and love rippling through.

“There is nothing wrong, love…finally everything is right,” you cried through your smile.

These were not Azriel’s choice of words, but later on when Cassian and Rhys relayed the scenario to the rest of the family they said you looked a little mad. Deranged even. Your tangled appearance and abrupt entrance was unlike anything they’d seen from you.

Azriel was quick to move you from here, his shadows engulfing you both as they transported you to a small lounge in the house. He wanted you away from prying eyes, and needed to check you were safe. That you weren’t hurt. His hands were still cupped around your face as he began to inspect you carefully. His eyes analysing your expression, shadows circling around your ankles to check for anything that might explain your distress– no it wasn’t distress, it wasn’t madness, it was joy.

“Breathe my little butterfly, what’s got you so worked up that you barged into a High Lord’s meeting?” Azriel cooed, his expression softening as he recognised the vulnerability in your eyes. Large scarred hands lightly brushed your unrurly hair, his fingers delicately bringing the dress strap back over your shoulder as he tried to soothe you with his touch.

“Everything is finally right Azriel,'' you whispered, repeating the words from earlier. For a moment Azriel couldn’t understand. The disarray, the vulnerability, the uneasiness. How could everything finally be right?

But then he felt it, the rippling down the bond. That unconditional love again, joy, delight…but also relief. Relief that something had finally happened. Something you had both been waiting, praying and dreaming of.

The Shadowsinger tilted his head, his hands dropping from your face, not daring to breathe the words himself as the emotions he felt began to paint a vivid picture.

“I’m pregnant.”

In that moment Azriel crashed down onto his knees, an overwhelming sensation consuming him as he digested the truth you spoke. It was as if at that moment, everything slowly slotted into place. The clues he hadn’t even known were clues sung to him. Your scent, your temperament and emotions, your wings. Everything he had acknowledged subconsciously, had been tucked away in his mind because he couldn’t phantom the possibility– the possibility of being wrong. Getting your hopes up.

His hands softly came to your hips, drawing you closer as he rested his forehead against your stomach.

“We’re having a baby?” Azriel’s voice broke, the words barely audible.

“Babies.” You whispered back.

𓇢𓆸

Cassian had been pacing back and forth outside the lounge for well over an hour now. He’d desperately called down the bond to Nesta, who had arrived in a hurry with their little Athena in her arms. His reaction may have been slightly over dramatic. But Cassian assured her that if Nesta had seen the state you’d run into the meeting room earlier, she would be behaving the same way.

Nesta didn’t really believe him, her mate had a way of being quite theatrical in situations.

There had been no danger, Azriel had spoken into Rhys mind and it had been passed onto Cassian. So Cassian spent the time speculating on what could have brought such an uncharacteristically reaction from you. He’d seen you when things didn’t go the plan in the meadows and assumed something at work must have gone array.

Nesta sat lazily in a chair outside the lounge, book in hand. Every now and then, glancing up at her mate who was wearing a mark in the stone floor from his pacing. Cassian held his little baby while he patrolled outside the room, whispering theories on what possibly could have happened to Auntie y/n.

“I don’t know Thena…maybe the ladybirds lost their spots again?” He mused, recalling a previous drama you had shared with him once, that had sent you a little haywire last year.

“All spots are accounted for,” your voice sang. Cassian hadn’t even noticed you and Azriel had stepped out of the room.

“Sorry brother I didn’t know you were waiting for us” Azriel smiled softly, giving his brother’s shoulder a gentle squeeze.

Cassian’s expression softened, as Nesta came to his side. Her arm looping around his free side while she kissed her little babe on the head. “Is everything okay though?” Cassian asked, concern still lingering.

“More than okay,” you beamed, tears quickly filling your eyes again.

Cassian and Nesta glanced between you both. Their expressions desperately trying to figure out what was happening. The penny dropped for Nesta first. Her own lips pulled into a genuine smile.

“Thank the Mother” she grinned, stepping forward to embrace you tightly.

The tears were spilling then, as you hugged your friend back. Little sobs racking through your body. You thought you’d cried it all out in Azriel’s arms, that there were no more tears left to give. But now, in the embrace of your friends– your family. Reality sunk in much deeper.

It only took Cassian a few moments and a glance at Azriel’s overjoyed but emotional expression to understand what was happening.

“Truly brother?” He beamed. Azriel nodded, a small tear running down his face as Cassian bear-hugged his friend, making sure Athena wasn’t squished between the giant Illyrians.

It didn’t take long for Cassian to start shouting it from the rooftops, bellowing down the halls of River house that two baby Shadowsingers were on their way. And of course, naturally, the day turned into a celebration, a gathering with your loved ones to toast your beautiful miracle babies.

Later that night, after Rhys and Cassian had drowned themselves in whiskey with a competition of who would be the favourite uncle.

Azriel joined you in bed, you were propped up by plush pillows against the large headboard, night dress adorned as you gazed down at your tummy. Your hands resting lightly on your stomach.

“Finally” you whispered, as Azriel laid beside you, his own hand covering both of yours as he nuzzled into your neck. Inhaling your scent.

He breathed deeply against your throat, relief and joy rippling through every inch of his skin, “Finally.”

a/n: Here is is!!! So sorry this took so long, I've been so busy with lots of interviews and prepping, which has eaten into a lot of my energy recently. But I hope this was worth the wait! I think the next scene that was voted for was the truth or dare/drinking games which would be set pre bond snapping/in the friendship era! So I'll try write that next unless there's something else first you'd like? Anyway I love writing about these two, their my little fluff couple <3 - Lottie x

Forever tags: @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @amberlynn98 @marscardigan @illyrianbitch @lilah-asteria

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #acotar fanfiction #angst #acotar series #wings universe #azriel shadowsinger #fairy x azriel #azriel spymaster #azriel series #azriel x fairy

878 notes · View notes

tarjapearce · 4 months

Text

Dr. Michael Stone (Pt. 2)

Art and Character by: Spiderthingcoo on X

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, forced voyeurism, body exploration, edging, double v penetration, female anatomy, rough and drugged induced sex, manhandling, substance abuse, 3some-ish, rimming (m receiving) nudity appreciation, breeding kink, a bit of dacryphilia, Objectification, overstimulation, filthyness undercut, no proofread, bit of cum play, bellybulge, electrocution, Michael is a sick fuck and I love him.

Miguelverse

Summary: Michael Stone has the time of his life.

A/N: I got too carried away and the fanart didn't help jskjs, hope you enjoy <3

Time ran at the speed of a snail. Each blink was torture, like you were removing seconds from the clock with each brief pause of your eyes.

How long have you been here? Certainly too fed up with trying in succeeding to escape. There was no punctual way to determine in which part of the day you were as there was no windows, no clocks, or anything of the sort that dictated the unstoppable force that always outlasted everything within reach.

Just dull pale grey walls, borderline white in every direction your sight stretched. Which wasn't much.

Your new habitat, was minimalistic, decored with the basics to sate physiological needs such as sleep, shower or pee. Ceiling too lowered to crawl or stretch your muscles properly when you tried to keep mobility going.

A fancy cage, nothing much, nothing less.

How long had it been since he slammed the door shut? Days? Week?

You didn't know. And the lack of a sense of time was irrevocably screwing with your head in a way it resembled how Michael had fucked your insides. There was no sun to bath in, no wind to blow and mess with your hair as you swung through the buildings, providing the right amount of adrenaline, no structures to crawl or stretch your muscles completely on. No external stimulus.Nothing.

Just a few meters of space that caged you like a live sample for a maniac's twisted experimenting and amusement. Fed and cleaned whenever you required it. It sometimes blurred the line between being a pet and a Guinea pig.

Just your cell, withering away your spirit. Even the food provided, lacked that homey seasoning you adored indulging in HQ's cafeteria after a mission. The only rift of color popping in the tray and around you were the vast array of vitamins and minerals, shaped in round and squared pills, nested within a metallic cup.

Cause according to him, if his offspring was to emerge within you, your body had to be properly nurtured. Ironically, the food was bland and tasteless, but you didn't starve. And it spooked you how easy your body took a liking to it.

Skin healthier, glowing and silky even, a soft natural flush dressed your cheeks, metabolism in its peak, a couple of pounds were lost, but that was the least of your concerns.

He was set into perfecting the vessel for his future seedling. You.

Michael was... You didn't even know where to start besides being the obvious doppelganger of Miguel. The only way you could tell them apart was because of his eyes. They were brown, like the most scrumptious shade of chocolate you've ever seen.

Unlike Miguel, he just took what he wanted and needed, everything in the name of science. He was the embodiment of 'the end justifies the means'.

Alluring, inviting you to a forbidden and fucked up world where he was the unanimous and dangerous sovereign. Like his whole aura. His impassive act was only a coy facade to hide what was underneath.

Madness, lust and something so dern you didn't want to try and decipher cause in truth, you were terrified to fuck around and find out. He had already gave you a little taste of his abyss, but it wasn't enough for him. He wanted you to drown in him and everything that rendered his mere existence.

He needed to crown a queen for his chaos. And what a better way to do it, than choosing you to give him a perfect offspring.

In his own twisted world the need of a superior being was a must. A need he was creating the proper foundation to sate.

He was prepping you to bare his child. And it scared you to no end. Not that you didn't want kids, but to be forced to fit into that role out of sudden scared you shitless.

And you didn't want to sour and make your thoughts awkward by knowing a variant of Miguel would be the father.

Fuck. No.

If your mind could have arms, it surely would've slapped itself for such thought. Not that you didn't think Miguel was handsome, in fact, you avoided being seen as that recruit that had the hots for the boss, lingering too much around him made you more nervous than you liked to admit.

And when you were paired with him, the anxiety of knowing you could mess up went heavenwards. Your Miguel wasn't one to dwell into conversations if they weren't necessary, canon before personal interests came first and always, awkward social skills that came out stilted and forced almost mechanically, specially when someone caught him off guard or in the high level of stress his gorgeous brain fed him on a daily basis.

Grumpy was his default emotional read, snarky or dry humored replies when dumb questions were asked, overworked to the bone. Secretly labeling himself as a bad man cause of the things he needed to do in order to keep the arachno-humanoid poly-multiverse working, a walking failure through and through, weak for meeting his emotional needs and trying to be happy for once and failing at it, and apparently the only one that knew how to keep everything together.

And still, the first one that always replied the call for help by either sending a group, or creating an escape plan route to ensure your and the rest's safety with the help of Lyla.

Unlike him. The man in the flesh and bone, that would easily supplant him physically, and had been watching you ever since you awoke. You didn't have to turn to him to know his presence had invaded your already reduced and secluded space.

Brown coals raked over the slope of your neck, the dip between your shoulder and junction, gaze remained over your rising form in every disguised breath you took, hoping he'd go away. Long and tan fingers tangled softly in the silks of your hair and the touch alone made your skin crawl, and not precisely in a good and pleasant way, no.

Whenever he was around your spider senses tingled, sometimes you'd end up with a headache, unable to shut it off. You didn't have to look deep enough to know he was as messed up and unpredictable as the task he had bestowed upon you.

"Eres tan perfecta..." his impish titter made your heart wrench and anxiety to bubble in the deepest of your gut.

In other circumstances you'd be a flustered mess, flattered even to have such kind of man groveling over you. But this one in specific had you coiling away from his touch, hoping to vanish into thin air or turn invisible like Miles.

God, you really wanted to have Mile's invisibility powers right now, so at least you could have a chance to escape. But dreaming had gone out the window ever since he dumped you here.

He never lingered too much, even when he did routine checkups on you. Blood and other fluid samples were taken, he made sure you ate the bland and soggy looking food 'til nothing but crumbs were left, and then he'd leave to do whatever he did in the lab and wouldn't return until your next feeding time.

The only thing he had in common with your Miguel was the workaholic attitude. He'd spend hours if not days tinkering with canisters and things you low key feared to know their components. You've noticed the little parts of limbs floating in some recipients, none of them human.

What kind of things this Alchemax did? Cause the little you had seen so far wasn't nice nor pretty.

Alchemax took seriously their research, and with this man on charge, you didn't want to even think about what kind of ungodly horrors they harbored. There was a little slapping in the air as he removed his gloves, and it was your chance to crawl away.

Rough pads thrummed over your soft skin, sending shivers down your spine, breath hitched as he beckoned your forearm, the only part of you that budged, towards him in a demanding pull.

"Haven't had the time to properly examine these." he mumbled, more to himself than to you, as his thumbs squeezed soft circles, soothing the previous pressure's discomfort.

You gulped as he narrowed his eyes behind his glasses at the tiny circular slits indented in your wrist, a pale pinkish hue rimmed the tiny hole. The way he admired and looked with child-like wonder at your web shooters was overwhelming.

Cheeks grew warmer as the tip of his nose ran up your forearm to finally stop on the shooters. A soft salty musk emanated from them.

"Organic webbing... Fascinating." He crooned.

He closed his eyes to relish in the smell of your skin. A shaky breath came off your lips as his moist tongue rubbed a kitten lick on it, a bolt of electricity flooded your senses and earned him a whimper. Eyes immediately shifted on you, pupils widening.

Much to your dismay both had accidentally unveiled a borderline gruesome breakthrough. The twinkle in his eyes made your brows twitch in worry. Your neck gulped and his eyes caught the fraction of movement to then smirk.

Pearly whites shone with twisted pride upon the discovery.

"W-Wait-"

The tip of his tongue pressed harder on the slit and you couldn't help but moan. A lovely and surprising melody to his keen ears at your reactions.

Web shooters were a sensitive and therefore an erogenous area.

You tried yanking your arm away, but your knees trembled when he delivered a wriggle of the tip of his tongue, trying to worm into your veins, prodding and tasting unabashedly at your dint.

With every coil of his moist muscle your brain sparked alive, neurotransmitters soaring in wicked delight. Your teeth clamped on your lower lip, stifling another upcoming moan.

The wet sounds and pops of his mouth made your insides clench involuntarily. Legs smothered together, as he now sucked. His lips pursed in that familiar shape it reminded you the way he ate your engorged and sensitive nub.

Head split in two, fighting over what side of reasoning you'd agree with. One side was ashamed such ministrations from your wretched captor turned your unwilling body like puty within seconds in his dexterous hands, and with this newfound information, his power over you just increased tenfold.

Or aghast for allowing such thing, for allowing him to cage you against the bed and his formidable frame while he devoured and toyed with your wrists, and for him to make you feel revered like no man ever had, even if it was for the wrongest of reasons. Brown eyes stared at your countenance with such curiosity and enthrall, as if you were everything he needed. Like his prayers had been answered and delivered in silver platter with you on it, right in his hands.

It didn't help your shaky resolution he squeezed and draped his other thumb in your other slit. Rubbing in lazy circles, pressing the right amount to have your clit throbbing and your mouth panting. The vibrations of his low groan on your skin sent your brain in tiny shortcuts, your synapses were howling.

A shiny streak of his saliva connected with the left wrist. The irisdiscent shine of your webs connected to his bottom lip.

"Tad salty" His tongue licked the web away, His thumb moved in a back and fro motion, alternating between circles and soft licks from his thumb pad.

"Hnng-" Your toes curled in, as your hips stuttered but he grounded his even more on yours, preventing you from shifting too much.

"Stop squirming" He huffed, annoyed, trying to focus his sight on the tiny crevice.

"F-Fucking stop then" you panted in angry breaths

Michael smirked, genuinely amused at your unexpected reaction.

"Why would I? This is the most exciting part of the research."

Shit.

He took your other wrist and kissed the dent, your eyes went shut as he pressed both wrist above your head. Thumbs kneading with a bit more of pressure right above your tiny holes. And God, it was embarrassing hearing yourself mewl like a needy bitch.

How couldn't you notice such thing about yourself after so many years of being a Spiderwoman?

Fuck

And why the fuck were you about to cum while having your wrists stimulated? But more importantly, was he really having a boner by toying with you?

"God, you're a pervert..."

You couldn't help but mumble and he pressed tighter on purpose, sending a muffled whimper through your throat, silencing your yapping.

"I rather the term, Man of science, pequeña. Now stay fucking still."

But you couldn't, not when he kneaded so closely to a spot that send your mouth gaping like a fish out of water, begging to be thrown back in the liquid oxygen. He pressed two inches away from the bitty hole, and that was it.

Jaw clenched and your spine arched. His brow quirked with clinical curiosity at your thrashing despair. Breaths paused and shallow, still deciding whether to moan or sob.

"Nmh-Fuck, fuck, oh my god-" Your eyes rolled back, and your insides clamped. Brain vaporising any coherent thought, mouth too busy catching air and sputtering dumb babble at the consuming climax. Contracting and pulsing at nothing as the little dent squirted a silky and sticky rope towards the wall with a soft Thwipsh. He blinked nearly stupidly at what he had just achieved, cracking his apathetic stare for good.

"Dios mío..." He pressed again and again and you sobbed as the web spurted hapzardly, diverting in every direction and etching to whatever surface it touched or landed. He stared with wide eyes between you and the webs. Limp limb suspended in the air.

Toes curled and clenched at the bedsheets, attempting to anchor yourself at the overwhelming sensations that clouded your judgement. Head spun and buzzed with the thrill not even you achieved when handling those annoying reminders of your solitude in your own hands.

For once your spider senses tingled deliciously. His cock twitched almost painfully at what he just witnessed, he groaned and cupped your face to deliver a deep and breathtaking kiss.

"I knew someday, all my work would be rewarded. All those sleepless nights, those sacrifices, would bring someone like you to me."

He panted, examining you with wicked excitement, shaking you softly in his aroused wake.

"You and I, will create something so beautiful even God will be jealous!."

If it wasn't for the ominous meaning behind those words, you'd be amazed and moved at his overboard thrill. He rested his head on your lower belly, a dark grin plastered over his face, fingers padded your skin, warmth spreading through his hand.

Where are you, Miguel?

"I can't wait to see you swollen, carrying the future of this earth, pequeña."

I'm scared

But as quickly as he laid down, he bolted out of your cell, too enraptured in his musings to actually care for your rattled state.

Now that his motives were clear, your need to escape was greater. But maybe if you played your cards well, you'd have a chance.

I need you.

----

The table landed on the wall, shattering in smaller shards that splintered all over the place. Michael's back rose and tensed so tight, his lab robe wrinkled, trapping the fabric in between his muscles.

The corner of his lip twitched, almost like a tick, teeth menaced with baring, fury boiling underneath his skin. If he could, the steam would blow off his ears, but instead he prowled over your unsuspecting and sleeping form in the very back of the lab. Mind assaulting his reasoning with so many questions, but one in particular made his hands to clench into tight fist.

Why weren't you pregnant?

He had came inside in your most dangerous and fertile days, and still, you weren't pregnant.

As much as he was a patient man, he was throughly disappointed at his own failure. Was his seed defective? No.

He had run studies on himself and his results were everything a desperate man in need of children could ask for.

Fertile, fruitful, healthy.

And still, the screen shone brighter on the 'Negative' results.

Hot and furious breath fanned over the glass wall where he saw you sleeping. He'd have to run even more tests on you, start all over and wait for another two weeks.

But what if your body refused him again? Your womb's rejection was an open slap on his face, when he had been nothing but kind to you. He had been taking care of you with the best things, and this is how you repaid him.

It frustrated him beyond reason. But he was a patient man. Weeks were nothing compared to all the time he had already waited. With a final huff, he returned to his lab to correct your stupid hormonal imbalance that was costing him his valuable time and resources.

However, a Public Eye officer barged in, breath in his throat. His personal hounds, and whenever they came in, it only meant one thing. They had found something, and by the scratches and claw like marks on the officer's bleeding shoulder, meant it was something good.

You had to wait for a moment longer.

-----

"Lyla"

Miguel's gruff whisper came behind the corner of the structure he was in. Lyla appeared right on his shoulder.

"Any readings?"

"Some-" She froze for a second, "Ssft-"

Her yellow shade glitched to then appear right before him, she was speaking, but Miguel could barely understand her.

Fuck.

The place's interference was messing up with her programming. His gizmo popped with a message, your location. Beeping in a bright yellow dot within the ever tall and imposing Alchemax building in the middle of the city, like a watchtower.

Your last signal. Earth S-2015.

If you were here, he was sure you'd quip up something about a movie reference, something about a Mordor, whatever the thing meant, to lighten up the mood. He'd never admit it, but it always made him a bit curious as to what you watched or did to entertain yourself. The things you spoke were beyond absurd and still, he listened, inwardly pondering as to what kind of substances your universe used to get that sort of inspiration, but now there was nothing but silence at his side. And he grew tired of it.

No matter how much he had tried to recover or track you, the signal vanished into thin air. And he wasn't happy. At first he thought the gizmo's self restart feature would bring the signal back, but days kept passing, and nothing happened, he even went to the extent of rewiring the trinket's code to see if there was anything between lines, but there was nothing after the current location he was in.

Miguel swung through the buildings, avoiding the constant and alert drones soaring through the sky. Alchemax safety propaganda was plastered all over the place, but this earth's inhabitants looked everything but happy. Unlike his wonderful and manageable utopia he had helped to improve.

Fear was forever etched in their faces, constantly moving, never lingering too much around those mean looking officers. The Public Eye.

Their image all over the city, with low key subduing messages as 'Keep The order', 'Report any anomaly in the nearest station.' It set perfectly with the gloomy, authoritarian and heavy atmosphere of this universe. Chaos brewing in the darkness, awaiting to be unleashed.

His gut felt queasy. He might not have spider senses, but intuition never failed him. And right now it was telling him to find you and get the fuck out as soon as possible. Precisely in that order. He didn't want to pull out a Miles, even if he wanted to on this wretched world. Frustrating as it was, Earth S-2015 was a necessary evil, like his ruler and his major minion.

Not that you were incapable of fending for yourself, one of the main reasons he didn't act right away, but knowing who was in this place, and the possibilities, made his chest constrict with a new wave of underlying anxiety and dread as there was no Spider in this earth to protect it.

His watch buzzed a bit too late with a new message from Lyla.

RUN!!!!

A hoard of drones shoot his way, creating a sequential line of explosions, he dodged, tore, and crashed the drones against eachother, as if they were bugs pestering him.

"Look! Another one!"

Some officers didn't wait to appear and shoot their best shots at him. They fired and Miguel fought back, talons in hands, ripping and tearing flesh.

They had taken you, and a cold sweat ran down his spine.

Mierda...

He took one officer by his neck, masked face came into view as his teeth bared.

"The other one, where is she?!" he seethed but the man was stupid enough to oppose. He thrashed, which only added gasoline to Miguel's already blazing fury. Talons dug in the man's tender flesh, but even so, the officer had managed to impale a needle on his arm. It's liquid immediately melting into Miguel's muscles.

It stung.

With a hiss, Miguel let the man go, too focused on the sudden burning sensation spreading through his arm and body like a wildfire. Breathings took a couple of seconds to turn erratic, lights flickered and dances before his eyes.

Concéntrate, mierda! (Fucking focus)

The remaining officers jumped on him, using their subduing tools on him, an electrical shock here and there, a couple of stabs that had him kneeling, punches that definitely got all air out of his scorching lungs. It hurted to breath, to move, to see. His photophobia was rampant as lights were suddenly on him.

Miguel tried to cover his eyes but punches kept coming, he lunged and swung back to nothing but air, as his faculties were in a painful sensorial overload. The last thing he could manage in between blurry and prancing lights was the officer's wicked smile, stretching. Darkness claimed him.

----

"Me estás hartando, quédate quieta de una vez!" (I'm getting tired of this, stay still!)

The lack of exercising had made you slow, he didn't give you enough time to fight back when dragging you by the ankles while you were in the best of your nap. The alerts in your body kicked a bit too late, and like he had done before, his hips grounded yours, suffocating their squirming as his hand squeezed the wrists, needle menacing on his other hand, a pinkish liquid shook within.

"Fuck you!"

With a low growl he smashed your hands against the mattress, earning him a painful yelp, and it was his chance to sink the needle on your neck, a sting that immediately stifled your body, a brief itch spreaded through before turning into a cool shot of drug.

"Don't worry... We'll get to it later. But I need your body cooperating first."

You tried batting his hands away, but he held your face, and you gulped. He was staring.

Michael Stone was staring at you.

Thrill, joy, and something eldritch within his beautiful eyes. It scared as it intrigued you.

"What did you just put in me!?"

His nose nuzzled on the crook of your neck and crooned, "Nothing you should worry about, pequeña. Just a little enhance that will take my investigation to the next level."

His nose revelled up to your neck, body shuddering with the soft kisses left imprinted on your skin. It confused you.

One moment he treated you like the best thing he had ever had, and the next he manhandled you like a rag doll, pumping whatever substances he thought right into your bloodstream.

"Ger'off me!" A backlash and he chuckled.

"You're amusing. Might keep you as a pet once my child is born." He frowned suddenly, like if an idea had came into mind, pondering.

"Or not, I could grow it on my own... But, no no. It wouldn't be the same, wouldn't it?." His peering landed on your abdomen, ready to see it plump. "Call. me traditionalist in that way, but there is nothing more beautiful than seeing life growing within a perfect specimen." His eyes twinkled.

"You're a sick fuck, you know that?"

"You loved having this sick fuck inside, pequeña. Your mouth might be spilling nonsense, but your cunt" He cupped it suddenly, shutting you up right away, "neither data lies."

A thick lump was swallowed down your throat.

"Rest well, I've got a surprise for you."

The smirk on his lips was everything but a good omen. And the heat increasing on your body didn't help. Hormones were slowly coming to a riot, spider tingle ringing harder for a moment.

Great.

Fingers rubbed on where he sunk the needle, wishing that for once he wouldn't use the thick ones. A tiny red smudge came into the pad of your fingertip.

Asshole.

----

Disgust, curiosity and repulsion.

Those were the main reads on Miguel's bruised face when Michael was before him, having a taste of his lips, but quickly backed up upon feeling the prong of his fangs grazing at his tongue. Miguel spat away his taste.

"Vete a la mierda, cabrón!" (Fuck you, asshole)

"Oh" His smirk went wider, almost wicked. He wasted no time in securing his grip on Miguel's chin to probe and poke at his mouth, revelling at every single thing within his structure.

"This is... perfect! With you and my vessel, we'll create-"

Michael jumped backwards as Miguel tried to lunge for him, but to no avail, chains clinked on his feet and wrists, restraining him.

"Now, now. What happened to that... friendly neighborhood thing your species used to preach? Is it a ruse?"

Miguel's fury burned brighter than the sun, he was ablaze, the Ethyl Chloride still railed within his bloodstream. He'd have to wait a bit more, just a bit for it's effects to leave his system and he'd free himself.

Never in his life had the urge of hurting someone came so strong on him, but he needed to be as collected as possible if he wanted to find you.

Even if his evil twin's hand roamed over his chest, measuring and probing his physiology. What's with everyone trying to get a piece of him?

His sight landed on something that undeniably belonged to you, a piece of your suit, under a microscope. Michael followed Miguel's line of sight and smiled, naturally, proud even.

"She's been a good specimen. The best one I've got so far."

A cold shudder ran down Miguel's back, eyes immediately on him, venom dripping in his words as they came out in a growl

"What have you done?"

Michael shrugged nonchalant, pride swelling up his chest. "Nothing but my work, Mr. O'Hara. And now that I've got you, you'll help me too."

"Te juro que si has hecho algo para lastimarla-" (I swear if you've done something to hurt her)

"Oh no, no. Im not that kind of monster." Michael tinkered with some tubes as he pulled a couple strands off Miguel's head. The Boss shook his head away from his tweezers.

"But she can get annoying sometimes. Nothing that pleasure helps to shut her up"

Miguel's eyes went wide, horror and anger in tandem within his crimson gaze.

His talons poked out, itching to tear the man before him, until he was nothing but bloody chum, fuck the canon, fuck this dimension. He'd do everyone a favor, unlike the first time he broke the rules.

"But dread not. Tonight is very special" Michael smiled at Miguel, but it didn't reached his eyes. The same pink liquid he injected on you was now flowing in Miguel's veins, thanks to thw needles in his shackles.

"Mating season is around the corner , isn't it?"

Miguel scowled, wary as Michael made his arms and legs restricted to the metallic wall of his confinement, hitting his head in the process. A wave of pain invaded Miguel's skull.

"I won't hurt her, no. But I won't allow you to take her away from me."

Michael pressed a button, sending shockwaves through Miguel's body, suit glitching out, until it disappeared, leaving a bare, righteous doppelganger of himself at his feet, panting, gritting his teeth and growling in pain.

Michael leered at Miguel unabashedly, smoke oozed from his shimmery tan skin, and the madman nodded, pleased.

"You spider-folk are unique and wonderful creatures indeed."

It was the last thing Miguel heard before another electrical and unexpected shock subdued him to darkness.

----

Miguel

His mind was a puddle. Nothing coherent could properly take shape in his brain. His body was heavy, doused in a borderline painful heat, the same sort of feeling he'd get once his body entered this spider-like urge to mate.

Miguel!

The voice calling him was familiar, but it's tinge sent a delicious pulsation right to the tip of his already twitching cock.

Wake up!

Leaden-lids parted enough to take in his surroundings again, consciousness returning to his empty body. But as it did, the strong tidal waves of his arousal drowned him in.

It didn't help he kept hearing these delicious mewls and pants, begging for him to do something simple as to wake up. The constant slaps of flesh and the breathless moans made a trail of precum escape his flushed and sensitive tip. Thick veins decored his pulsating girth, aching painfully to sink in something. To be wrapped in nothing but snug zeal.

"F-Fuck... Wake up, please!"

Another garbled moan that ended in an acute whimper. And that made him growl. His toes curled in, bleary sight finally taking focus on what was going on.

He could only blink at the scene. Stupid and high in need. Dying to be free and unleash himself.

"Ohmygod-" you hiccuped, watching him, flushed cheeks, mouth gaping and panting, exhaling deep and sweet mewls his body yearned to induce

"Miguel!"

You called, waking him up despite your insides getting a good rearrangement by Michael. The latter was too keen in watching his reaction as he smacked himself against you, his cheeks reddened in want.

You were spreaded like a book ontop of the sitting madman, back colliding with his bare chest, hands cuffed within two metallic hoops, hooked behind Michael's head; cunt swallowing him inside, choking with his continuous thrustings, slapping the back of your ass over and over as his hands kept your thighs apart and close to your chest, providing Miguel with a 4K image of your bullied and glistening pussy.

The way Michael pushed in so swiftly made Miguel's cock to erupt with another pre cum bead. Your breast swayed and bounced at the rough pace settled underneath. A rhythmic slap, like a perfect metronome for an obscene and wet melody.

The little rational part of Miguel told him, demanded him to look away. To spare you some shame, but his body had been rewired in such way he was unable to tear his oggling away, cause he could feel the need to break the chains and do a better job than Michael. He'd destroy you. He needed to.

Michael's hands made you hold the back of your own thighs, so he could plow deeper. And your spine arched as your toes curled, legs shook and a sweet acute cry echoed through the lab, announcing your first orgasm.

Miguel's sore cock twitched. Begging him to jump into action. His mouth watered as your pussy swallowed Michael's cock so deep and tight that a frothy, creamy ring nested at the base of his tightened balls, contracting as the madman came inside your snug hole.

Your arousal awakened a primal need in him, to the point that his talons dug in the fat of his palm, cutting skin and bleeding, like his bottom lip. Plump mouth heaved, his throat rumbled with gutural growls the more he stared, hypnotized at your post-bliss face.

Miguel whimpered, like a kicked dog, a deep flush invading his heaving countenance.

"Seems the serum is also making effect"

Michael slicked his hair back and gave an excited sigh, "I think it's time to see his performance, right?"

Michael pushed you away from his body, Bambi-like legs failed their attempt to hold your whole frame. You fell on the ground with a wheeze. Miguel immediately lunged, but his restrains held him back, prevented him from achieving his main goal.

Crimson eyes turned darker, nearly matching Michael's. The latter pressed a button and the collar on Miguel fell with a clank on the floor.

"M-Miguel" it was difficult to find your voice when it was scrapped raw and dry, but still, you had to try.

"We... we gotta leave. Do you hear me?"

Of course he did, but his mating cycle was on peak, thanks to Michael. He had messed up the natural process by accelerating his heat prematurely.

Why would he leave when he was about to wreck you?

His feet were unlocked. You gave Michael a pleading look while trying to crawl away. When the last lock clicked free, your breath hitched.

It felt like a slow motion as you looked over your shoulders, marked with hickeys Michael left. Pupils wide blown as Miguel lurched forward, stalking and hovering over you. Cock smearing his pre cum in whatever skin it landed, marking you with his scent as he manhandled your hips up, aligning them with his girth.

His hand was big enough to keep your whole head on the floor. Michael cackled as Miguel sunk in deep in a powerful roll of his hips, earning a stuttering grunt through clenched teeth from you.

The fat of your ass trembled, your clasped hands curled underneath your torso, in dire need of holding onto something, cause Miguel merciless plows were fucking any coherent thought.

Your whole body shook underneath him, cunt ever tight, your juices and Michael's cum made him easier to delve in a pace you knew would scrap your knees, cause he wasn't stopping nor waning.

Michael circled you both, hand on his cock, stroking himself at the sheer display of primal desire. The whole show made him hard, specially when seeing your engorged clit peeking underneath Miguel's jackhammering frame, flushed from the unceasing beating the hero's balls provided it.

"Just like that" Michael husked, and whimpered as you did nothing but sputter nonsensical and lewd blabbering.

Miguel's fingertips sunk tighter as they grope your hips firmly to keep you from lurching forward, despite him plunging into you with abandonment, as if with every thrust he'd say take it.

Take it for disobeying.

Your toes curled in and your jaw slacked open, unable to keep it together.

Take it for not following instructions.

"M... Mig-"

Bendito... He was just starting and you were already clamping onto him in a grip so tight it only matched the way he was holding your beautiful and generous hips.

"You're almost there, Mr. O'Hara! Keep it going!"

One specific thrust had your eyes watering and rolling back. A pathetic and incomplete scream made Michael to kneel behind you both. His eyes were too dazed in how Miguel fucked you. Dancing up and down, like the strokes of his hands on his cock.

Miguel secured your head in a tight headlock that cut your air supply enough to clench on him, again. Strong biceps trapped your airy head, clouded with a biting desire that came stronger every time you breathed.

Michael groaned when Miguel pulled a last thrust, sheathing to the hilt, forcing a powerful and milky kiss on your cervix. The madman's mouth wasted no time to sink in between Miguel's firm glutes, tasting him, squeezing and pushing him towards his face, tongue fucking the tight hole, earning a low but stuttering growl from a surprised Miguel. Glasses fogging at the rising temperature.

"Fucking delicious." He mumbled with a smack of his lips to focus his attention in your flushed and sensitive cunt. When Miguel pulled out, Michael was already pushing him away, to then prowl at your throbbing cunt, gathering the leaking cum on his tongue, revelling in the taste as he pushed it back inside with a soft dribble.

"W-Wait" You hissed, his moist muscle had been wonderful once, but right now it felt rough. Flesh too sensitive to the touch.

Miguel staggered, body overridden with a relentless urge to be inside you again, but his body screamed for a rest, the venom still lingered on his muscles. Michael on the other hand, cradled and sunk you once more ontop of him.

"The more you take, the more chances you'll get pregnant are." He explained underneath you. Tears rolled down your flustered cheeks, overstimulated and pearled, glowy skin by the thin layer of sweat etched in every slope and dint in your body.

Michael licked them with a groan while his hips smacked yours in a slow but deep, deep rut, pulling the last coherent thoughts through muffled groans and hiccuping mewls, while you shook your head vehemently.

"You're so perfect, pequeña"

"T-Too much" you croaked

Michael sunk you in a swift move, as his slapping hips met yours upwards, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

"No, no. you can. You're strong, bonita. You can take me." His crooning was eerie, yet so alluring it blurred the line between monster and devotee.

Pleasure clung to your brain with such force it was dizzying. Every pore of your body oozed with the pheromones the serum produced, creating a tantalizing smell that lured Michael and Miguel's attention.

The grumpy hero could only watch you squirm as another cock that wasn't his, wrecked your insides in a tortuous pace.

"Fuck" He grunted, feeling the consuming and mind numbing drug licking at every inch of his cinnamon skin, imploring to feel you again.

Even though the Ethyl Chloride's effect had been long gone, the serum reacted to your pheromones. Meaning he'd need to provoke one more peak to have the effects completely worn out.

He'd feel sorry and awful all he wanted later, his priority was to get you out of this madman's claws. But...

It was impossible not to think in how good you felt, how delicious your whole body contorted while witnessing the way Michael subdued you to ride him as he captured one of your nipples in his urgent mouth. Lovely and plump bumps of flesh jiggled at the tempo, outer folds that without a doubt would be so sensitive to the touch, parted and guzzled Michael's veiny cock.

Miguel crawled to you both.

How well you had taken them each., Adjusting perfectly at their sizes, like a perfect flesh sleeve.

He hovered over the both and smoothed away the strands of hair that stuck on your flushed and gorgeously fucked out face.

The heat was consuming, and Michael's pace wasn't enough. The madman noted you were reaching the peak of the serum functionality as you urged your wobbly hips clumsily on his.

Despite you not being able to properly verbalise your pleasure, you still sought it. Michael's wicked fantasies came true when Miguel pushed you tighter against him, as if wanting to flush your body and Michael's as one being, just to have a proper glimpse of the sight that had him guiding his tip towards your already stuffed entrance.

Detente (Stop)

But he couldn't, he couldn't stop himself from entering you, knees flexing as he lowered his pelvis, pushing inch my inch deeper. Earning an ascending pleasurable wail from you.

Your eyes widened and your jaw clenched, baring your teeth as he also sheathed inside, womb so full it bulged.

Michael's laugh echoed through the room. Everything had came as planned.

"Let's make you a wonderful mother, mi pequeña."

Oh my god.

A panting groan escaped as Michael moved in first, igniting the painfully delicious friction inside you. He wasn't only stimulating you, but Miguel as well. The snug crevice too tight for them to coexist in peace, yet there they were, fighting over who pulled the last peak and thread of rationality out of you.

Their cocks pumping and prodding had your spine arching. Miguel grabbed a fistful of your front strands and pulled backwards, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, letting your chest exposed to Michael. He wasted no time into pushing both of your breasts together, tongue alternating between the left and right.

Sucking, lapping, wriggling his hot muscle on your taut peaks, making a mess out of them by creating more hickeys in every inch of salty tasting visible skin.

"Michael!" You whimpered and it was enough for Miguel to plow harder. The sinful makeout session of their cocks inside your walls made you pant, beg and laugh like a total loon.

A streak of saliva escaped the corner of your gaping mouth. Head lolled back and fro, fried brain with the lust both men induced you, floating on cloud nine. You didn't want to come down to earth, much less when Miguel and Michael's groans and moans over you, urged you to be the best cum dumpster ever.

Miguel pulled your handcuffed hands underneath your chin, beckoning your lips to his. His mouth suffocated any future moan as you bounced on both.

Your one and only boss didn't need you wailing his name to know you ached for him. But Michael was set into having a proper taste out of you both.

He pulled you closer, pushing deeper inside you. Michael's lips erased all trace of Miguel's on yours, to then kiss Miguel. To his surprise, Miguel didn't oppose, too gone in the sensations this mass of tangled limbs offered.

Michael hands roamed your body and Miguel's, feeling his own climax approach.

Hearing Miguel's animalistic growls on your ear, made your clit throb. He pounded with every fiber of his body, urging you to reach the stars and play with them.

Your cunt soaked them, too wrecked and ruined to care. Like your mind. It didn't matter who fucked better, all your body asked was fresh cum, deep in your womb.

The serum coaxed you to move faster, almost matching the rhythm of their whomps. The sound of your greedy and drooling hole being battered was music to their ears.

Michael whimpered and his spine arched, finally reaching his peak, spurting his hot sticky scent inside. Miguel hissed and held Michael close, watching him.

Limbs nearly cramped as they curled in, hands fisted tightly on each side of his trembling body, eyes rolled back, mouth panting, head too heavy to think straight. And that's when Miguel sunk his fangs on his neck, injecting his paralyzing venom on his bloodstream.

A pornographic and slurred moan erupted from Michael, his wicked smirk widened as his body slowly but surely, lost all control of his nerves, unable to command them to move.

Miguel had to resist the urge to come inside. He knew he had a couple of minutes before Michael regained mobility, and as heavenly as you felt, he pulled out of you, drowning his orgasm with regained self control, earning a small hissing as he pulled you out too, gently, off Michael.

Legs and body refused to cooperate. With clumsy steps he stood, taunting the surfaces for support. He slanted against the table, gasping for air.

Miguel shook his head and threw a quick look to Michael, still on the floor, but now groaning in discomfort. Even his tongue had numbed out.

Miguel didn't waste time and sauntered over the next table where pieces of his gizmo laid neatly arranged in a metallic tray. He swept them all in a container, along the tubes filled with his samples.

Like Hobie, he took other parts of machinery in a quickened pace to finally grab a couple of lab robes. He wore one and covered your overworked body, to then throw you above his shoulder.

"Nos vamos." (We're leaving)

Michael groaned, loudly. Anger was felt in every gurgle his throat did. Despair widened in the only thing that still remained movable in his numb face. They darted between you and Miguel, begging him to leave you there.

He groaned again, losing sight once Miguel swung with you from a window.

"Hold on tight if you can" Miguel's voice cooed as you two escaped.

-----

Michael had to douse some pain killer spray on the two slits done in his neck.

How could he not forsee this? How could he miss something so obvious that ended up messing his one decade old plan?

He let his emotion get the best out of him, fouling up his usual calculating judgment, replacing it with excitement.

A Public Eye squad remained before him, awaiting for his orders.

"Find them. I need the woman alive, understood?"

"What about the... other one? The monster?" The same officer Miguel had sliced through and marked, spoke.

The lights in the screen gave Michael a sinister red hue on his face, light reflecting on his glasses.

"He's not a monster, Johnson." Dr. Stone smirked, copying your information in his database, "There can't be two of us."

Johnson, the captain, nodded. The squad obeyed, and the hunt was on.

Taglist: (I apologize if your blog isn't able to be tagged, tumblr is... tumblr)

@smokeywhalee @maomaimao @beingdeluluisthesolulu @byjessicalotufo @darkfairy102190 @angel-of-the-moons @bunnibitez @decaffeinatedplaidwinnersoul

@thealleydog @sariespi @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @barryatsumu @missylo @fistsuptitsup @lazy-idate @crimsonriot06-7 @uraritychain @little-lovelace @llama--drama @deathlypickles @cupidojenphrodite @@nostalgicdaira @homewreckingwreck @millliko @tatatida @melday0105 @scaryplanetdestroyer @minispidey @miranexx @migueloharacumslut @keepghostly @ion-news @misswonderfrojustice @kishimiest @prctty-birdie @migueloharacumslut @the-true-tato-god @1biggestsimpofalltime @catfwngz @drefear

#t writes✨#Michael Stone #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel spiderman

1K notes · View notes

love-bitesx · 1 year

Note

okay but imagine pavitr trying to play wingman for hobie to get with the reader and how funny/cute it would be

longer requests will be out this week, thank u all for the amazing support!! love you guys sm

: ̗̀➛ WINGMAN. hobie brown x reader headcanons

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

oh, he would be so annoying. in the best way.

you’d joined the spider society not long after the others, immediately clicking within the dynamic and it wasn’t uncommon for you all to just hang out in each others dimensions after a mission.

at first, hobie thought you’d simply peaked his interest because of your unspoken nature. constantly standing up for yourself and other spider people, putting people in their place if need be, just your general backbone intrigued him. you felt different to the others. that’s all he thought.

that was, until one afternoon, you were all packed into your apartment, music playing from the stereos and pavitr talking everybody’s ear off about god knows what. hobie had been silent for a while, no reason in particular, he’d been fiddling with the badges on his leather vest, in his own little world. well, until he felt a hand on his knee.

“hobie,” your voice was low, subtle, hanging just below the decibels of the melodies booming through the room, “are you alright? you’ve been quite quiet.”

“oh, uh,” he was taken aback, possibly by your hand that still lingered on his jeans, or how close he suddenly realised you were, seeing the soft details of your face and pigment in your cheeks for the first time, “yeah, no, i’m fine.” he cleared his throat.

smiling back at him, you took your hand away, moving back to get involved in the conversation again, not thinking much of it. regretfully, hobie looked up and saw pavitr staring at him, clearly having watched the ordeal and the excited smirk on his face told him that he’d definitely seen hobie flustered. he sighed.

after pavitr worked out that hobie had a thing for you, it was over for him.

he couldn’t even LOOK in your direction, without the shorter man hopping into his personal space, nudging him hard in the ribs, singing something about kissing in a tree.

constant comments about you to hobie

“y/n, i love your shirt! hobie, doesn’t it look so cool?”

“y/n! hobie told me to tell you he loves your shoes.”

“doesn’t y/n look sooo nice today! huh? hobie? what do you think?”

he was in hell, actually.

there was only so many "yeah, nice" he could say to you before he started to sound like a prick

on missions, he was insufferable

constantly making you guys work together somehow

“miguel, i think me and gwen work best as a team, don’t you think? y/n and hobie should do this one together”

swinging through the streets of whichever earth you were sent to, hearing distant yells of pavitr calling after you both “aren’t they cute together?!”

“good morning, hobie,” you grinned, sleep still evident in your voice as you wandered into the headquarters, beckoning to miguel’s very early morning mission call.

god, he was so thankful to have you alone for once. relief settled itself on his shoulders at the absence of his best friends’ watchful eye, happy to interact with you comfortably.

“mornin’,” he spoke, stretching his legs mindlessly out across the length of the desk, leaning back onto his arms, “how’d you sleep?”

“oh my god, i had the weirdest dream—” you begun, hopping up onto the adjoining surface, eyes lit up with passion as you ranted about the dream you had just resurfaced from.

he watched you the whole time, lips curling into a smile at the way you threw your hands around in the air as you spoke, reeling into every detail about your nonsensical experience. nodding every so often, he was almost enthralled by you – taking this peaceful moment as an advantage to see you properly. you were tired, sleep still evident in your eyes, hair a little chaotic in places, but the soft glow that it gave you made his heart skip.

he’d totally lost himself in speaking to you, listening to the excitement lacing your voice, that he didn’t realise other people had arrived.

well, until he felt a sharp elbow to the ribs.

“you guys are so cute together!” pavitr’s sing-song voice pierced hobie’s ears, shocked at the newcomers, “i saw the way you looked at them, loverboy.”

the nickname stuck

he’d been addressed more by “loverboy” than his own name, and his insides churned every single time

even gwen started calling him it, to which hobie would send a threatening glare

when you eventually did end up seeing each other, whether that be dating or other stuff, you both swore to keep it a secret

hobie refused to give pavitr the satisfaction of knowing he was right

so you would sneak around together, kissing in places you shouldn’t, stealing knowing glances in meetings, secret touches when no one was looking

he loved the risk of it all

but it was one afternoon, you’d both slipped away into an empty lab at the spider society headquarters, giggling to each other like kids as he dragged you into the vacant room

his hands were all over you, lips brushing whatever skin he could see, your arms slung around his neck as you kissed him

“did you lock the door?” you asked

“i thought you did.”

“OH. MY. GOD.” a third voice yelled.

you yelped, jumping away from hobie as a last ditch effort to maybe save some face

it was too late, pavitr stood there, mouth agape

hobie sighed, hanging his head

“GWEN! THEY DID IT!”

pavitr stepped back into the hallway and ran down towards where you’d both left them, his voice carrying through the metal walls

“LOVERBOY DID IT!”

you stood there, unsure whether if you just remained still, you could avoid whatever consequences you both faced

that was, until you felt hobie’s arm slide around your waist, pulling you back into him, an unintelligible look on his face

“we can’t keep it a secret anymore, i guess.” you spoke first, he let out a laugh

“i don’t think that’s such a bad thing,” he kissed you, softly.

a/n: hope this was okay!! currently got a bunch of requests in the works, so keep an eye out for more!!! also anymore headcanon ideas would be so fun!! thank u

#across the spiderverse #hobie brown #atsv hobie #hobie my beloved #hobie #hobie spiderverse #hobie x reader #spiderpunk #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #spider punk x reader #spider punk x you #hobie brown imagine #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie x you

8K notes · View notes

theorphicangel · 4 months

Text

𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐰 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: miguel being whipped for his s/o after sex :)

tags: suggestive, 18+, aftercare, soft Miguel, fluffy

panting, you lay your head back on the pillow, thighs still shaking as you come down from your high.

a whimper leaves your throat once you feel Miguel pull out, leaving behind a sore feeling of emptiness within you.

He’s quick to clean you up. tissues on the bedside table as well as two bottles of water. The way you like them, fresh and cold. his chest rises and falls heavily as sweat forms at his brow. strays of his coffee-brown locks sticking to his forehead.

He gently wipes at your inner thigh. your hand is still positioned on his shoulder, feeling his muscles flex with every move he makes.

Miguel leaves a tender kiss on your arm. “you did so good for me, mi amor.”He hands you a bottle, removing the cap before giving it to you.

you take a few small sips before gesturing the bottle back to him. He stares, unimpressed.

“a little more.”

you obey, reluctantly, sipping until the bottle is less than half full. Miguel takes your bottle and fastens the cap. And before you know it, he’s laying on your chest underneath the covers with you.

“ugh, you’re so heavy.” your hand immediately reaches for his hair, an automatic habit.

“mhm, you tired me out tonight.”

you fake a gasp, fingers running softly through his hair. “I tired out the miguel o’hara?”

you feel his chest vibrate as he chuckles softly. “don’t tell anyone, it could ruin my reputation.”

“cross my heart and swear to die.” you say as you mark an x on your chest.

the two of you bask in a comfortable silence, a natural hum heard in the room. you continue to play with his hair, fingertips lost in his locks before you notice a pair of eyes staring.

“what?” you whisper.

Miguel continues to stare at you, unresponsive. letting silence become his answer for a few moments before speaking.

“you’re glowing, nena.”

“Am I?” you chuckle softly, slightly shy at his eyes glued onto your face. you always caught him looking at you like that, like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. it didn’t matter if you had just woken up or returned from work after a busy and stressful day, or if you had walked out in a simple tee and jeans.

he alwayed seemed to look at you with a starstruck look in his eyes.

And that is the very look he had now.

A smile slips onto his lips, his voice low. “Carajo, eres tan guapa.” [fuck, you’re so beautiful]

you scoff, rolling your eyes.

“I’m serious, nena.” and his tone exemplifies that too. his eyes search all over your face. “¿Cómo tuve tanta suerte?” [how was I so lucky?]

“dunno’,” your hand trails down to his cheek, caressing his skin. he’s glowing too, you think. “How did I get lucky with you?”

“maybe it was fate.” he whispers, his eyes falling to your lips.

“maybe it was.” Miguel murmurs, inching closer to you. Simultaneously, you pull him towards you, your hand still on his cheek.

The moment your lips meet, a spark is lighted within you again. you can tell he’s being gentle, making sure not to place his body weight entirely on you.

when you finally part, a rush of adrenaline runs through your body once more. a heat emerging between your thighs for an nth time.

“you think you still got enough energy for one more round, o’hara?”

“always for you, my love.”

reblogs are much appreciated!

#angel writes #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara atsv #atsv miguel #atsv headcanons #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman atsv #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 x you

2K notes · View notes

anantaru · 5 months

Text

BITTERSWEET TASTE

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — being in the knights of favonius came with its own responsibilities, yet why was it so unbelievably difficult for kaeya to get up in the morning when you‘re laying next to him all pretty and riled up?

— ꒰ word count ꒱ — 3.1k

— ꒰ a/n ꒱ — decided to repost this hidden fic, enjoy <3

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ns]fw, fem! reader, prone bone, fingering, morning sex, morning wood, biting, he cums in you, basically kaeya doesn't want to go to work <3

there was a pearly glow in the morning sky with the first of many rays of sunlight casting a rosy hue up the bedroom, prickling on kaeya's bronzed skin.

fluttering his eyelashes open for the first time post slumber, he scrubbed his face with his hands as to try to wipe away the tiredness that was still viewable on his handsome features. He yawned, stretching his broad body, tilting his neck left and right.

if only he didn't have to work today, he thoughts to himself, fighting off his laziness and huffing out dramatically.

naturally, ever since the grandmaster left for an important expedition, kaeya had to work more than usual, do stuff he in any other circumstances wouldn't have to bother to even bat an eye over.

of course, with the entire cavalry gone, one would think that the cavalry captain himself wouldn't have to particularly do much, yet he still had to aid the knights with various tasks as they were short in staff.

a low sigh escaped him and his heart bubbled with swells of delight upon taking in the look of his sleeping beauty curved up into a ball, your breathing tranquil with your eyes scrunched together.

how can someone be so cute and beautiful? while also infecting him with blissful joy.

leaving nothing to the imagination, his mind froze with his body feeling light, as if he wasn't entirely there yet, wandering his piercing gaze over your heaving figure, drinking in your peacefulness.

he tried to decipher on how he managed to end up so lucky, how it was him, of all people, who captured your heart.

on further analysis, he focused and crossed his vision over you, his breathing slowing down. He caught a glimpse of your white panties nudged out of your sleep shirt, the fabric was flimsy and was barely able to keep everything hidden and tugged away, the outline of your puffy folds poked out just slightly and watered his mouth on sight.

next, kaeya heavily settled his hands on your hips and pulled you closer into his embrace, he was still very much tired and exhausted, the thought about him having to leave for work in a bit was annoying, straight up mind shattering, a frustrated growl tingling in his throat.

cocking his head in the nook of your soft neck, kaeya took in your scent, so familiar and soothing, kissing the thin flesh under your ear. The strokes of his rough lips on you ultimately stirred you from your sleep, a dizzying sense of pleasure crawling over your shoulders.

"kaeya?" your voice was whispery and barely there, laced in with a raspy undertone when you cradled your head to the side, meeting his hooded eyes. "morning, beautiful."

you couldn't help yourself but roll your eyes at him, such tease, your brows crinkling at the corners as a peel of laughter echoed in the large room. With your hand, you removed the navy blue hair strands that covered your boyfriends handsome face, stilling your palm on his warm cheek and brushing your thumb over his lower lip.

"don't you have to work?"

"hmm." nuzzling himself into you, he continued, "how awful would i be if i don't?" kaeya crossed his arms around you with the plush of your behind pressed against his member, your eyes growing to the size of saucers upon realizing how riled up he had gotten.

"jean won't be happy if you're late." attempting to disturb him from his little fantasy, he set off the heavy erection in his pants, gently rutting itself within your softness, his rough tongue eagerly dragging over your neck and biting down the wet spot, ultimately forgetting about your words, as if he didn't perceive them in the first place.

"foul play!" he feigned a dramatic, teasing tone, "but this isn't about jean right now."

his hips bucked up yet again, this time unconsciously before one of his hands wandered towards your stomach, hooking his fingers into the elastic of your panties to pull them down in a single motion. Your breath was trembling with a sweet squeak robbed out of your mouth, melting into his warmth with your eyes closed.

his hand disappeared within your heat, nudging in between your thighs as you spread them a bit to make it easier for him to travel to where you craved it. "only for five minutes kaeya, okay?"

"five minutes, five minutes." he repeated sheepishly, gaping his mouth open and poking out his sharp canines from underneath his upper lip, prancing on your neck, adding his rough tongue up until reaching your earlobe to gingerly suck on it. You whined from his little scheme, noticing your nipples perked up from underneath your shirt and rubbing over the flimsy material as you whined at the first long finger poking at your entrance.

your cheeks grew warm, drizzling hot and your eyes fluttered close to relish in the digit filling you at last, the stretch was barely painful or to be perceived yet still pleasurable. Your insides were twisting and turning around his skillfulness which had kaeya's vision turn blank, jaw dropping loosely before a massive grin heaved on him.

considering on how your moans sounded, how they pooled over his ears like sweet liquid, sugary candy, kaeya figured you were very much sensitive, might be because you had just woken up, carefully wiggling his finger deep into you to wheedle another reaction out from your lips.

"don't hide your sounds from me, don't even dare."

his gorgeous face was behind you, kaeya absolutely despised it when you hid your pleasure from him, your lust and ache, sometimes you even did in on purpose to drive him mad, yet he always made sure to punish his sweet little angel properly afterwards.

"kaeya, it feels good." he was spreading the mess over your folds with every shove into your core, you nodded frantically to signal him how well he did, your head falling back against his neck as he added another finger into the mix, almost immediately pulling it into you and searching for more with his hungry eyes.

this time you stretched further, hole parting, the combination of his middle and ring finger rubbing their rough pads into your velvety walls had you short of breath, nudging your sweet spot. You were rocking side to side as you held each other in a loving clasp, moaning and breathing in sync.

a simple happiness, that's what it was for kaeya, seeing you unravel for him in such a short amount of time, a confident bubble bursting in his belly as he noticed the heavy dent in his boxers, growing, aching and rubbing against the uncomfortable material of his sweat shorts.

kaeya drew in his breath upon noticing your spasming walls, letting go of the air in his lungs with a shiver. He shifted his leg, pressing you closer together and increasing the pace on his hand. Without warning he scissored your sensitive cunt, curling and sending waves of electric thrills throughout your skin.

your eyebrows knitted together in concentration, tightening your jaw as you moaned his name, arching your spine away yet he jerked you back almost immediately, "I'm so close kaeya.. please." your skin was heated, yet the warmth crossing you from deep inside roamed into you in fast spurts, slumping back and forth.

"i want you to cum on my fingers, can you do this for me?" hoarsely voicing his command with authority taking over the room, he shoved his fingers in, thick and wet, delving them into you as you grinding yourself back, meeting his hand halfway through his heavy tugs.

"i‘m gonna cum—" moaning in protest, your sloppy hole suckled down on kaeya‘s slender, skillful digits, clamping your thighs to hold him there when you spasmed, shivering and whining when your orgasm threw itself at you.

kissing and biting your neck he hummed in satisfaction at your tones, your pleas and begs, the vibration he exclaimed was filling you and hit your core in a torrent of electricity.

your hands abruptly clasped onto his wrist to still his movements yet kaeya was chasing your release like a wild beast, finger fucking you through your climax with sloppy noises turning you into an embarrassing mess.

creating friction through his rough way with you, you grabbed him, your mouth opening but nothing came out and throat tightening when you cummed at last with a silent cry of his name, sobbing your words.

pure bliss, that's how kaeya would describe it, his palm glistering with arousal. "now would you look at yourself, what a sight to behold." your mind was a bit off and still wobbly, cradling your head back to look at him through lidded eyes, meeting his lustful ones.

"shut up kaeya, you wanted this." your sassiness was maddening and set his loins on fire, truly delicious. Kaeya pulled out of you, a string of your essence connecting him to your core when he did something that almost brought you on the verge of release again.

pleasantly dizzy, his slick covered fingers found his mouth when he pried the pads past his plump lips, lapping onto his digitd to drink in what you gifted him with, moaning and groaning around his fingers and hollowing his cheeks to suck them dry.

a whisper, a moan, taking itself out on your craving body when you watched in anticipation, now fully awake and completely forgetting that kaeya was very much late for work, not to mention the little '5 minute rule from ealier' was nowhere to be found. The aroma of his scent clasped around you, filling your nostrils and getting you weak in the knees, cradling your senses.

another long inhale, you yanked his hand away and kissed him, hard. Shaking, tantalizing goosebumps bristled on your skin, a sharply edged euphoria playing in your heart upon noticing his fully erected member resting against your thigh, a big wet splotch plastered on the side.

your fingers listened to his silent pleas, traveling down his stomach before cupping his groin, caressing it with your warm palm. You rolled forward, eliciting a groan from your boyfriend when he captured you in another kiss, rutting himself into your hand like a horny beast. "you're so fucking perfect for me." he sputtered, adding his strength on your hips to pull you back abruptly.

kaeya rose up, displaying himself to you as he exposed of his shirt together with his pants and boxers, cock plopping out and standing fully erect. His tip was swollen and rosy, desperate and needy when he beckoned you to turn around, following suit.

you lowered yourself onto the silky, white pillows with your behind perked up, your drenching pussy on full display for him to indulge himself in. Fuck, he wanted to be inside you right now, wanted his cock to be drenched full with filth and lewdness and make love to you.

"five minutes, right?" he taunted you with it, amusement finding him on how you thought you’d be satiated by a mere five minutes.

kaeya couldn't wait any longer, simply draping your shirt up and not giving a single fuck to discard of it completely, your glowing back greeting him. His rough hands branded your shaking skin, a satisfied growl deep in his lungs was leaving him as he got a hold of his stiff erection to drag it in and out of the little tunnel he created with his hand.

"i'm gonna be so late." chuckling to himself and in a way, it sounded as if kaeya was making fun of said fact, butterflies cascading through his stomach at the mere sight of you alone.

of course this was way better than working and fulfilling his duties.

your glistering pussy fluttered around nothing, sobbing and aroused, still mourning the loss of his long fingers when you trapped your lower lip in between your sharp teeth, hiding a moan.

"baby—" you're mewling now, "please don't tease me, i can‘t take it." wiggling yourself back, kaeya couldn't help himself but smirk devilishly, so unbelievably handsome that the sight of it would've made you cum on the spot. "who do you think i am? i'd never!"

pretending to be shocked, he lowered himself, hands pressing on your behind and gripping the plush of your ass, squeezing and wiggling it. An electric pulse went through your bones when he brushed his cockhead within your folds, collecting your filthy essence on his skin and slobbering him wet.

the natural lubricant would come in handy, surely, kaeya was mostly rough with you and in all honesty, you didn't mind, more so did you secretly encourage it whenever he'd claim you like that, whenever he'd show you how much he desired you without actually using any words.

he was perfect, truly, he was broad and thick, pressing himself into you and filling you to the brim, cunt parting in a rough manner you wouldn't want any other way.

every twitch, turn and twist of his cock you could feel, witness and drink in, you cried out whiningly in a breathy way with tears dwelling in your eyes. He draped himself over you, chest flushed on your back and licking a straight line on the back of your neck with his rough tongue, your tiny hairs sticking into the air from convulsing shivers.

"fuck, you're so tight today." his words were lustful and imploring, savoring and distracting you from the slight discomfort of your lower region being practically impaled by him. A string of saliva connected your skin to his lips, he was messy with you, adding spit and drawing it on your neck to continue to suckle and bite the wet flesh, hitting your sweet spot but not moving where you yearned for it the most.

kaeya pushed you back, leaving his tip in and waxing over your reactions, sending a bolt of lightning down your spine upon snapping himself back, roughly and so unbelievably hard that you thought your heart would actually burst out of your chest.

crying his name you moaned in tune with the pace he was settling for, dragging his raw member into your shivering insides and rubbing deliciously on your favorite spots, punctuated thrusts pressing roughly within you.

relentless, that's how he was with you, marking and branding you with his thick cock alone, his heavy balls smacking at your behind and eliciting arousing torment in your core, feeding into your desires when the flirst droplets of tears covered your warm skin, sticking on your cheeks.

large hands tilted your hips up while simultaneously applying pressure on your back to nudge you against the mattress, the new position making it possible for kaeya to dig into you more.

yet in comparison you got tighter, your hole delicate and milking him for all he's worth. Your oversensitive pussy was on its breaking point, drooling and making a mess out of his length, swallowing him whole, as if you were made for him.

"I'm so close-" you sobbed and he growled at your voices, changing the intensity and snaking up one of his skilled hands to your shaking clit, rubbing you fiercely in tune with his hips. "i know baby, i can feel you." your heart erupted, kaeya was delving as deep as he could possibly go, blown pupils directed to where your bodies connected and sloppily drooled over each other.

kaeya believed he was in heaven, more so loving to see you dripping wet of arousal and he was the cause of it! he alone was responsible for your fucked out state, mustering the strength to keep going, rubbing and pinching your clit in between his rough pads.

tearing you forward, you cried out his name in between panting, coaxing him on to go faster, more, you needed more and had to release now.

"I'm gonna fill you up." through gritted teeth, he told you his favorite way to come undone, something about you trusting him this much was catapulting him to cloud nine. His bruising grip overthrew your body, no words were bothered to be voiced by you, far too gone with the ache in your core threatening to break, teetering on edge and so fucking close, you wanted to get there already, your whines laced with frustration.

sore, sweaty and aching you twitched around him, soul smoldering and stinging when you finally cummed hard, each thrust barreling through your body and sending you over the edge, fisting your fingers into the cushions under you while almost ripping them apart.

your toes curled inwards with your skin shaking, jolts of torment and deep pleasure grasped and hid the control of your body from you, leaving you to kaeya with your sensitivity. How hot your body became, igniting flames in you and bursting the sweet bubble in your belly, the one that sent you spiralling into desire and bliss.

he flattened his hips on you, stilling himself when he came in a broken groan. Kaeya shifted his weight up in a much more convenient angle so he wouldn't suddenly crush you or collapse on top of you from the intense orgasm.

"fuck, that's it baby, that's it." his thumbs buried into your hips, pouring his sweet cum in you and archons, did he cum a lot, it was quilling over and sobbing down your aching hole, staining your thighs together with his pelvis.

he slid his cock out before greedily swatting it back in, moaning in tandem and feeling the residue of your orgasm wash over. He sunk in on you as though overwhelmed he twitched yet again, eyes pointing towards the filth in your legs. Your entire body tightened and his groans sliced you up, how blunt and raw they sounded, how shameless and unbelievably hot.

"fuck, what a mess i made." he heaved out a satisfied sigh, grinning and laughing wildly, casting a gentle shadow on you.

turning your sore body around to face him, you met his gaze, drawing your arms out for him to kiss him. Kaeya chuckled at your adorable teary expression, leaning forward to apply kisses on your lips, swaying you with his charm.

"i don't want to go to work." he painfully admitted to you next, pouty lips pecking your nose, cheeks and going back to your mouth, nibbling on your skin.

"kaeya, you need to go to work." you gently whined at him while still being utterly sensitive.

brushing his bangs away with your fingers, you settled your warm palms on his face and watched him display puppy eyes for a bit, as if he was waiting for you to urge him to stay yet you simply squeezed his cheeks playfully in response.

he huffed out, nudging your nose as he carefully drew himself back with a frutrated sigh. You tilted your head in an irritated manner when your confused eyes followed his body leave the bedroom.

"lets hop in the shower together, i‘m going after i promise."

#genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kaeya x reader #kaeya smut #genshin x you #genshin impact drabbles #kaeya x you #kaeya drabbles #genshin drabbles #genshin x y/n #kaeya alberich x reader #kaeya x y/n

1K notes · View notes

inknopewetrust · 5 months

Text

𝔉𝔬𝔬𝔱𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔭𝔰 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔰

summary: in the blistering summer evening heat, you and felix play a little game. [felix x fem reader. WC: 2.6k]

warnings: smut. minors dni (18+ only). p in v, fingering (fem receiving), saltburn bathtub, slight voyeurism, dirty, dirty talk, some degrading language, not the dirtiest thing but still like… kinda hot?

Though the sun had set long before, the lingering scorch of the sun sat like a film on your skin. Its thin veil dry and aching to shrivel against the boiling water of the tub. You felt the sticky nature disappear under the trails of steam that painted the surface of the water.

A bead of sweat pebbled from your temple to cheek to chin to neck.

But you lit a cigarette anyway. And if you listened close enough, you could hear the crackle.

A blistering bud sizzles; the porcelain was drawing cool waves against the skin of your arms and for once, in the vast nothingness of the bathroom, the heat that rose from its surface made the ghosts vanish.

It made them disappear in house once home to Kings.

Now, as it boiled under the night sky, it was home to something other. It had bled itself into the walls and the ghosts wished to witness not the haggard scrounging of wealth that festered within.

But you imagined Henry the Eighth liked to stare as you bathed. They all did. Felix had told you that once a few summers ago.

How they all wanted to touch you in the ways that he did. How they wanted to whisper in your ear that they were better than him. No one truly was and it kept you crawling back with the poor souls who got sucked into a heated whirlpool of pity each and every summer.

Nevertheless, you envisioned Henry in the corner itching to touch.

They all trembled to flutter their hands onto your skin, onto your breasts, squeezing pieces of you dipped below the waterline.

If his ghost could smile, Henry’s ghastly teeth gleamed.

‘Fuck off, Henry,’ you saw the paunchy apparition lounging in the chair in the corner with a bead of sweat dribbling from his own temple.

Oh, envy, King Henry.

A bit of ash fell onto the tiles below.

“You’re making a mess of it.”

You tapped the cig on the side of the tub as another bit of ash wilted to the cold floor.

Felix hummed.

Stocky Henry vanished. If you gazed toward him, Felix’s eyes bore deep. Heavy and brooding, downcast at a peak of what existed beyond the bubbled suds.

Dinner had long passed. Everyone was supposed to be in bed.

He could feel you in inches. The soft skin of your back, the plush thighs that laid between his own. A hand of his traced over the skin of your collarbone gently as the ash continued to drift.

You were nearly on fire. In the swelter of the stone walls and the patterns of the paper before him, you glowed in a red sweat.

“You’re letting it die.”

“I was thinking,” you murmured.

“About what?”

“King Henry.”

“King Henry?” Felix’s voice peaked. His head leaned to rest on your shoulder, his smile leaving a trail as it grew. His nose drew a delicate line on your dampened skin.

You liked Felix in this way. So quiet and removed. But Saltburn always kept pace in the background.

“Yes, King Henry,” his hand glided along your own, gently taking hold of the cigarette and placing it between his lips.

The smoke of the puff rose high into the air beside you. It’s curls twisted like your insides aching for a touch too far but never too close.

“I like to imagine them sitting… staring at us now.”

“Now?” Felix questioned. “So erotic in an ugly tub. I can see him now,” he pointed to the corner of the room, “he just popped one. Can’t you see it? In his trousers there.”

You grinned. Your laugh filled his chest with a shuddering life. So fulfilled and free yet trapped in this same world as he.

And he was never far away. Here, in Saltburn, always waiting in the same shadows for the opportunity to strike while the others weren’t around. No sister or friends or parents or mewling poor fighting for his attention. They were retired for the evening; all snuggled in beds with curtains drawn and fantasy dancing in their heads.

“He isn’t the only one.”

You tipped your head to the side. The profile of your face meeting his forehead as he dipped his own downwards. The cigarette still burning from his fingertips. It was a mere bud now.

You could feel what waited for you on your lower back.

“I can feel that, you know?” You feigned an innocence he liked. Keen and blatant, but cunning with sin.

“Is it Henry that makes you feel that why?” You whispered, lips ghosting his chin.

Felix breathed in deeply. The same chest that shuddered with joy in anticipation.

Every summer.

The excitement would stir within his bones as the gates would open wide and beside his family would be the one steady thing he had everything to give.

“I hope,” Felix hushed, “for your own sake that’s not the fucking case.”

“So it’s me?”

Felix groaned as you pushed against him. The gentle pressure of your body arching into him without a touch, he begged to put his hands on you.

The cigarette fell to the floor in its end.

Felix took his hand and turned your head back to face him with a firm grip on your jaw. The water around you sloshed. It cleared the bubbles from your chest.

“I want to play a game,” he suggested in a dusty, breathless tone. “Want to play, darling?”

“Can I win?” You suggested. His hand loosened, letting the fingers dance along the column of your neck before beckoning up toward your mouth once more.

His index finger traced the outline of your lips. In a slow glide, Felix pulled your lower lip out slightly, gathering the wetness with his finger before inching it back to the space where your lips had parted.

You kissed his finger with your tongue as it found purchase in the suction of your mouth. The plushness of your tongue, the slight drag of your teeth as it emerged from between your lips.

“I don’t want to play if I can’t win, Felix,” you whispered.

His eyes now hooded with a thick want. He watched his finger redraw the lines of your lips again as you begged with doe eyes to win. A near child’s play of a woman’s ability to seduce.

“You can win,” Felix huffed as his other hand snaked itself from the edge of the tub to your torso under the water. “But I’ll need you to be quiet. We have guests and as much as I do love our dear, sweat guests, I can’t have them imagining the way I fuck you, can I?”

“No,” you relished in the way his hand returned to the base of your throat and squeezed with the slightest amusement. “I’ll be quiet.”

“Good,” Felix smiled at you. Your heart squeezed in the same way your cunt ached for his fingers to gather the strength to follow through.

“What do I win?”

“Whatever the fuck you want. You just have to be quiet.”

You smiled deviously that the thought.

“I can’t see how we’d be able to look a boy like Ollie in the eyes if he heard the sounds that come out of your mouth.”

His hand swooped past your center and to your leg, drawing one over his own which sat you straighter in his hold. You felt his cock jump at the pressure of you pushing on him. Felix flitted his finger tips from your knee to waist, switching hands to bring his wet palm to your breast while the other perched your opposite leg over his other.

The pebbled nipple was taut as he kneaded the skin in circles. He pressed down hard, pulling up on your nipple to elicit the sounds he wanted so badly to hear but knew you’d repress.

You were like him in many ways. He too wanted to win a game of control.

With you in his hands like a play of putty, he felt in control but with one hand on the wheel.

As he palmed your breast, his hand gripped your thigh. His mouth traced a pattern of hot breath along your neck as his tongue relished the salty sweat that had gathered at its leisure. The goosebumps that rose from your skin welcomed his breath kindly.

“I want this house to ourselves,” Felix moaned. “So we don’t have to be quiet.”

“Tell me what you’d do,” you asked him, placing your hand over his own and bringing his fingers to you. He cupped your heat as you groaned, guiding him back and forth to gather the wetness he could feel different from the water of the tub.

“Tell me what you’d do to me.” You spoke faintly. “Tell me and I’ll be quiet.”

You guided one of Felix’s fingers in you as he shushed the sounds that threatened to speak themselves into existence.

He put his lips on your ear as he began to pump his fingers in and out of you with a slow glide. So plush and tight, he thought to himself. It sucked him in and dared not to spit him out.

“I would fuck you on the floor,” he breathed out against your cheek. “I’d spread you wide and taste your sweet pussy as the sun bathes the floor. And when I’m done, we go to the pool-“

Felix pulled out his finger, tracking it along your folds before going in with two. You arched against his back, drawing up as he pulled you back down and rested his hand on your waist.

You curled the toes of your right foot down the edge of the tub.

“-we’d go to the pool and sit out in the sun. You’d give me head in one of the chairs and I’d paint your fucking face with my cum.”

You clenched around his fingers. His thumb pressed into your clit, another jolt aching to send you squirming but he held you down as he patterned circles on the gentle flesh.

“You like that, don’t you?” He breathed in the smell of you. “And maybe we’d go for a walk through the maze after dinner. I’d fuck you in the center and you could scream as loud as you fucking want. No one could get to us. No one would hear us.”

“F-F-“

“No, no, no, shh,” Felix shushed. “Good girls only win by being quiet, yeah?”

You nodded, clenching onto his fingers again as a strangled ‘fuck’ tumbled out of his lips. He could imagine the coil building. Felix wasn’t going to let you finish alone.

Felix pulled his fingers from you and felt the disappointment in the wither of your body.

“But I don’t want to imagine what’d I’d do if we were alone,” Felix blanked. “Turn around.”

As the water sloshed around you, you turned to wrap your arms around his neck. Like you, Felix had sweat beading from his jaw that glimmered in the red light of the bathroom. He looked intoxicated, entranced but in control of what he could.

“I want to see you ride me like the fucking whore you are.”

You weren’t a whore. But for Felix, you could be anything.

At the nape of his neck, you gripped the back of his hair and drew his head back as your other hand gripped him under the water.

Hard and lengthy, his cock was a welcome intrusion every time. You pumped him in your hand slowly. The sounds of water creating currents was soothing against the sounds of your battered breaths kissing his own. You lifted yourself on your knees, leaning against Felix as he squeezed your ass tightly, watching as you lowered yourself onto him under the water. Slender and veined, your cunt molded to him like art. You both would never tire of the feeling so profound.

It would never be like this with anyone else.

Loose pants left his lips as you sat completely full of him. A fit for a King in his own home, he supposed. Once you had settled with him inside, you moved above him.

The water moved languidly too. Meeting the fiery skin of two intoxicated minds too oblivious to see the peering eyes between the crack of a door.

“Right there, baby, right there,” Felix mumbled as you rose again and again, drawing him in and out as he stretched you with every swell and spur he could muster on his own.

“You’re such a good girl, darling. So good for me.”

You could peer down at him from above. Your breath fanning his face and lips but never seeking to truly kiss him as your hand tangled in his hair.

Bits of water spilled over the tub and splashed onto the floor. It soaked the ash tray and the speckles of ash and bud that littered the floor.

“Don’t stop baby. Don’t fucking stop,” Felix crooned in the room’s empty sounds. Only the pleasured sighs and gasping breaths filled the air.

You bounced on his cock with a measured pace. Each stroke of his manhood against your velvet walls lured him deeper into you, entangled with the missing links of a year gone by.

“Felix,” you broke the rules to whisper in his ear. He was taken away by the insatiable need of his rapture. He listened. He beckoned to your call.

“Tell me that you love me.”

From the shadows, Oliver Quick felt his blood run as hot as the sun. He loved Felix.

“I love you.”

Whom did not love him back.

“Tell me you need me.”

He was enamored by the idea of Felix.

“I need you.”

Who was enamored with the idea of Oliver.

“And what do you want from me?”

He was taken by the sight before him.

“I need you to cum, baby. I need you to fucking cum for me.”

Oliver was taken by the gleam of your skin. The way Felix’s throat bobbed as a strangled groan escaped his lips and the way your own melted onto his forehead in a silent struggle to come down from a high.

You placed both hands on his slender chest, careening like winged victory in a heated satisfaction.

Your fingers shook.

He had never seen a woman shake so elegantly before. The tremble of your lips as you breathed in shaking respite, the jolt of your shoulder blade as Felix ran a hand up your back.

Oliver licked his lips at the sight.

Felix lifted his head from its position against the tub. His eyes fluttered open as you pulled away in the slightest.

And Felix smiled.

You returned the grin with one of your own as his still sat erect inside of you. The bubbles of the tub had long ceased to exist and the water that was left was filled with the combined spent of you both.

“I don’t think I won that one,” you chuckled quietly, pushing hair out of Felix’s face before cupping his cheek in your hand.

“I’ll take pity on you, I guess.”

“The water’s gone cold.”

Felix kissed the inside of the palm of your hand. He cherished the high that lingered.

“The water’s gone cold,” he repeated. “But we could stay here forever.”

“Pruned and sweaty? Not a chance in fucking hell, Felix.” You laughed a bit too loudly. Oliver disappeared at the groan Felix let out as you pulled off of him.

You stood before him as the water dripped from every piece of you. Marbled and finite of the most precious carvings he only wished to hold forever.

As you exited the tub and the throb of him began to settle, you grabbed his linen shirt from the floor, draping it over you as it stuck to the wetness of your skin.

“The bed is just the slightest bit more comfortable.”

And you disappeared behind his doorway with call for more as the walls of Saltburn added another sordid story to add to it woven trims.

But it was never just the walls of Saltburn watching.

A/N: as always, the best gift of reading is likes AND reblogs and why not, we love comments too. Thank you for reading and feel free to check out my other works on my masterlist here. xo

#saltburn x reader #saltburn #felix catton x reader #saltburn felix #felix catton #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #x female reader #saltburn spoilers #this is self indulgent

2K notes · View notes

ozzgin · 5 months

Text

Yandere!Yokai Harem x Reader Headcanons

Introducing some of the characters Reader will encounter throughout the story. Get to know your monsters in this handy reference booklet!

Fun fact: The names of the characters are quite literally chapters from ‘The Tale of Genji’, one of the earliest existing novels written in the Heian period by noblewoman Murasaki Shibiku. Kiritsubo and Murasaki are your closest companions and bear the names of the main female characters of the story. (They’re men. A little irony.)

The list will be updated as more characters are revealed:

Abe no Nakamaro 阿倍仲麻呂

Descendant of famous onmyōji Abe no Seimei, Nakamaro rapidly built his own reputation using the powers of yokai he'd captured across the country. His binding powers have yet to be deciphered. It is believed only his own blood can break the contract forged with the legendary beasts.

Known for his ruthlessness, Nakamaro was feared by humans and demons alike. His commissioned portraits often depict him surrounded by dark clouds - a signature detail - emphasizing his evil nature.

As you progress through your journey, you will be plagued by many flashbacks of his cruel deeds. It's almost as if your own hands are tainted by the blood of the yokai standing before you. You vow to free the beasts and prove you are nothing like the vile creature dwelling within your soul.

Kiritsubo 桐壺

The first yokai you encounter. Despite his intimidating appearance, he is the kindest of the group. He is tall and very muscular, with short, straight horns, long silver hair and glowing amber eyes. When he smiles you can spot his sharp, prominent fangs. He has multiple scars on his back, reminiscent of old punishments.

He is a dragon spirit, although his true powers remain unknown. Nakamaro always kept him close and was particularly strict with him, hoping to unlock his dormant potential, to no avail. He begins to show improvement once he embarks on his journey with you. It seems that his desire to protect his new owner was the secret all along.

Kiritsubo is extremely clingy once he gets to know you better. You're kind and patient and nothing like the famous onmyōji before you. He almost can't believe you're part of his reincarnation. He will follow you around everywhere, like a loyal dog, and might be overly touchy sometimes. He can't help it.

Murasaki 紫

Murasaki is the second yokai you meet. He is tall and slender, with long black hair and imposing horns. His deep crimson eyes hold a lot of resentment towards you, or rather whoever lies within you. Despite this, he always holds a disciplined posture and acts very well-mannered.

He used to be Nakamaro's right hand. He is considered to be the most skilled among the legendary yokai. A master of the sword and possessing unmatched intelligence, he served both as an advisor and bodyguard. Always cold and calculated, he rarely shows any hint of emotion. He seems to be quite sarcastic and arrogant.

He doesn't interact much with you in the beginning. In fact, he's most annoyed by the idea of partnering up with a weak human like you. He offers to train you with the sword and teaches you spells and prayers. Despite his complaints, he always protects you from any danger. As you spend more time together, he slowly opens up and might even show signs of attachment.

Suma 須磨

Suma is the biggest of the legendary yokai, towering over everyone with his gargantuan frame. He has bright red hair and large bull horns, with robust features and fierce eyes. He has many tattoos covering his body, going all the way up to his chin.

Suma is a worshipped guardian of war. He lives for battle and is said to reward bravery and courage. Despite this, he has a very approachable personality. He is loud and easygoing, rarely showing signs of distress. He uses a spear when fighting, although he prefers his bare hands. Brute strength is his specialty.

He finds it hilarious that the feared Abe no Nakamaro has been reincarnated into a small girl. He will often joke around with you and challenge you to playfights. When borrowing his powers, you are able to display impressive feats of physical strength. He likes watching you fight and encourages you to train.

Yuugiri 夕霧

Yuugiri is a mysterious yokai. He is pale with rather feminine features, appearing androgynous. He is very elegant and well spoken, although both Kiritsubo and Murasaki have warned you to be wary of him.

He is a serpent spirit, sly and manipulative. He is known for tricking humans and devouring their souls, yet very few can tell his true nature. He is incredibly charismatic and many people fall in love with him, meeting their early demise.

You cannot read him and therefore keep your distance. His twisted smile never leaves his face. He is very interested in you and while his reasoning might be superficial in the beginning, he does become rather attached and tries to prove his honest feelings to you.

Warning: Spoilers ahead!

Sekiya 関屋

One of the yokai that has remained by Abe no Nakamaro's side, in his resting tomb. He is the one that kept his presence concealed, casting a barrier around the temple for the entirety of his master's slumber.

His main power is casting barriers. Sekiya is the one that guards the entrance and guides you towards the onmyōji for your battle. Once you defeat Nakamaro, he joins your group.

He is very reserved, shy and insecure. He cannot fight properly and often bemoans his lack of purpose. Like Kiritsubo, he falls in love with your kind nature and clings to you, hoping to be of use.

Sakaki 榊

The other yokai to guard Nakamaro's tomb, Sakaki has been tasked to keep his master alive.

He has the ability to heal and even revive under certain circumstances. After your fight against Abe no Nakamaro, he offers to heal your fatal wounds and joins your group.

Sakaki is rather gloomy and depressed by nature. He has an unhealthy obsession with death and often makes grim or unusual remarks. He considers you his muse and will sometimes write unsettling poetry dedicated to you.

#female reader #yandere yokai #yokai x reader #yandere oc #yokai harem #yandere harem #yandere original character #original work #yandere x reader #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #monster x reader

1K notes · View notes

willowbelle · 2 months

Text

Not a Chance

Zoro & Jealousy + Possessiveness

per this request!

❤︎ roronoa zoro x fem reader ❤︎

༉‧₊˚✧ (nsfw, afab!reader, 18+ only) ༉‧₊˚✧

cw: dom! zoro, jealous zoro, very possessive zoro, semi-public sex, wall sex, arm pinning, rough sex, loud sex, lots of dirty talk (im so fr i cooked w the dirty talk on this one), "be loud, let them hear you." type :^)

summary: zoro & reader are privately dating. zoro gets very jealous when he sees law & kidd flirting with reader at a party. zoro confronts the men. zoro aims to show everyone who reader belongs to ;)

word count: ~3,200

tagging: @bby-deerling @eelnoise @3v37773 @laylaloves-ed @shamblespirate @lowkeycasanova @maddddstuff @fanaticsnail

Not a Chance

As the celebratory atmosphere envelops the aftermath of the victorious battle in Wano, you find yourself nestled in a corner of the bustling banquet hall, the glow of lanterns casting warm hues over the scene.

It's a moment of triumph, shared among allies turned friends, but for you and Roronoa Zoro, it holds an added layer of complexity.

You and Zoro had been quietly dating, your relationship concealed beneath the veil of secrecy that he prefered. His private nature means that your romance remains known only to a select few, a fact that both frustrates and intrigues you.

But in moments like these, surrounded by fellow pirates and allies, the clandestine nature of your connection is put to the test.

Zoro, with his stoic demeanor and unwavering dedication to his goals, is a man of few words when it comes to matters of the heart. Yet, beneath his tough exterior, lies a depth of emotion that he reserves solely for you.

In quiet moments, away from the prying eyes of others, he lets his guard down, revealing glimpses of vulnerability that few are privileged to witness.

For you, being with Zoro is much like navigating uncharted waters, thrilling, yet… unpredictable.

His fierce loyalty and unwavering support are constants in your life, grounding you amidst the chaos of the pirate world. And while his private nature sometimes leaves you craving more, you cherish the moments when he lets you in, when he allows himself to be vulnerable with you.

In the hidden corners of The Sunny, away from the eyes of your crewmates, you and Zoro share stolen glances and intimate moments that are reserved solely for each other.

The storage closets, nestled deep within the bowels of the ship, become your sanctuaries of intimacy. There, amidst the shadows and whispers of the vessel, you and Zoro find solace in stolen moments of closeness.

The dim light filtering through the cracks in the door paints a soft glow upon your faces as you press together in the confined space, your breath mingling in the air.

The rhythmic sound of The Sunny’s hull against the waves provides a soothing backdrop to your whispered intimacy; the thrusts of his hips, your moans against his neck. In those hidden moments, you bare your souls to each other; sharing fears, dreams, desires, and everything in between.

----

Amidst the revelry, you notice glances and subtle gestures from some of the other pirates, members of both the Heart Pirates and Kidd Pirates, their intentions not entirely innocent.

Their flirtations and insinuations don't go unnoticed, and although you remain steadfast in your commitment to Zoro, a part of you can't help but feel flattered by the attention.

As the night progresses, Zoro's demeanor shifts. His usually composed facade cracks, replaced by a simmering undercurrent of jealousy and possessiveness. You can feel his gaze burning into you from across the room, his grip tightening imperceptibly around his sake cup.

It's Law who approaches first, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he engages you in conversation, his proximity closer than necessary.

"Enjoying the festivities, y/n?" Law asks, his voice laced with playful intent.

"Absolutely," you reply, offering a polite smile, though you can't shake the sense of unease at Zoro's watchful stare.

Zoro's reaction is instantaneous, his jaw clenched as he moves to intercede, positioning himself subtly between you and Law, a silent declaration of his claim.

Next comes Killer, his playful banter veering into suggestive territory, earning a low growl of warning from Zoro.

"You're quite the charmer, aren't you?" Killer remarks, his tone teasing.

Zoro's response is a terse nod, his gaze never leaving Killer's masked face.

Even Kidd, usually brash and unbothered by such matters, can't resist throwing a teasing comment your way, only to be met with a glare sharp enough to cut through steel.

"Careful, y/n, you might give poor Zoro here a heart attack," Kidd jokes, flashing a mischievous smirk.

----

As the flirtations from the other pirates intensify, you feel a mixture of discomfort ripple through you. Seeking a moment of respite, you excuse yourself from the crowd and make your way to a quieter corner of the banquet hall where you spot Nami, your best friend and trusted crewmate, engaged in conversation with Robin.

"Nami," you greet, relief flooding your voice as you join them. "Mind if I steal you away for a moment?"

Nami turns to you with a knowing smile, her sharp eyes taking in your slightly flustered expression. "Of course, y/n," she replies, motioning for you to sit beside her.

As you settle in next to her, you can't help but vent your frustrations. "It's like they're all coming out of the woodwork tonight," you mutter, casting a glance towards where the other pirates are still making advances.

Nami's lips quirk into a sympathetic smile. "Well, you are quite the catch, aren't you?" she teases and winks, nudging you playfully with her elbow.

You can't help but chuckle at her comment, grateful for her light-hearted approach to the situation. "I suppose," you reply with a hint of self-deprecation. "But it's not like I'm interested in any of them."

Nami's expression softens, her gaze meeting yours with a look of understanding. "I know, sweetie," she says gently. "But sometimes it's nice to feel admired, even if it's from a distance."

You nod, grateful for Nami's insight. Despite the unwanted attention, her words offer a sense of validation that eases the tension coiling in your stomach. "Thanks, Nami," you say sincerely, reaching out to squeeze her hand.

"Anytime," Nami replies, returning the gesture with a reassuring smile. "Just remember, you've got Zoro watching over you like a hawk. No one stands a chance against that."

----

As the night wears on and the tensions grow, Zoro can't ignore the prickling sense of unease that gnaws at him.

His jealousy simmers just beneath the surface, a volatile mix of protectiveness and possessiveness that threatens to boil over at any moment.

And suddenly, it does; boils over, floods his skull, and pushes him to drastic measures.

Spotting Law and Kidd engaged in conversation across the room, Zoro's steps grow purposeful as he makes his way towards them, his jaw clenched with barely contained anger.

"Law, Kidd," Zoro's voice is low and menacing as he approaches, his gaze piercing through them with a ferocity that makes even the most seasoned pirates flinch.

Law and Kidd turn to face him, their expressions shifting from casual to wary as they take in Zoro's imposing figure.

"What do you want, Marimo?" Kidd retorts, his tone laced with defiance.

Zoro's eyes narrow dangerously, his temper flaring as he squares his shoulders. "I saw the way you were looking at her," he growls, his voice a low rumble that reverberates with barely contained fury.

Law raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "And what if we were?" he replies coolly, though a flicker of amusement dances in his eyes.

Zoro's grip tightens on the hilt of his swords, his knuckles whitening with the effort to restrain himself. "She's off-limits," he spits, "If you know what's good for you, you'll keep your distance."

Law and Kidd exchange a glance, a silent communication passing between them before Law finally speaks, his tone calm but tinged with a hint of amusement. "Relax, swordsman," he says, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "We were just having a friendly conversation."

But Zoro isn't appeased, his anger still simmering beneath the surface as he glares at them both. "Just remember," he warns, his voice low and dangerous. "She's mine."

As you remain seated with Nami, the conversation ebbs and flows between lighthearted banter and moments of quiet introspection. Despite the festive atmosphere surrounding you, a part of your mind remains preoccupied with the tension that seems to linger in the air, like a storm brewing on the horizon.

Nami, ever perceptive, notices the furrow in your brow and the unease that flickers in your eyes. "Is everything alright, y/n?" she asks, her voice laced with concern as she places a reassuring hand on your arm.

You offer her a small smile, grateful for her steadfast presence. "Yeah, I think so," you reply, though the uncertainty still lingers at the edges of your consciousness.

But before you can delve further into the matter, a commotion breaks out across the room, drawing your attention. You and Nami exchange a curious glance before turning to see Zoro engaged in a heated confrontation with Law and Kidd.

Concern etches itself into your features as you watch the scene unfold, the tension in the air palpable even from a distance. "What's going on?" Nami murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper as she leans in closer, her eyes fixed on the unfolding confrontation.

You shake your head, unsure of what has sparked the conflict but feeling a sense of urgency to intervene. "I'm not sure, but I think we should go check on them," you reply, already rising from your seat.

Nami nods in agreement, her expression mirroring your own concern as she follows suit. Together, you make your way through the crowd, weaving between revelers until you reach the center of the commotion.

As you approach Zoro standing with Law and Kidd, you notice the tension radiating from him like a palpable force. His jaw is clenched, his eyes narrowed with simmering anger as he exchanges words with the other pirates.

It's a side of him you haven't seen before, raw and unfiltered, publicly displaying his love for you.

"Zoro," you say softly, reaching out to touch his arm, hoping to diffuse the tension.

He glances at you, his expression still dark with irritation. "Not now," he mutters tersely, his tone leaving no room for argument.

But you aren't deterred. You know that letting his anger consume him won't solve anything. With a gentle tug on his arm, you urge him to step away from the heated exchange.

"Come on, let's go somewhere quieter," you say, your voice laced with concern.

Zoro hesitates for a moment, his gaze flickering between you and the other pirates. Then, with a resigned sigh, he nods and allows you to lead him away from the confrontation.

----

As you walk, you feel the tension slowly dissipating from Zoro's frame, replaced by a sense of calmness. With each step, the anger that had gripped him begins to fade, replaced by the warmth of your presence beside him.

Finally finding a secluded corner of the banquet hall, you turn to face Zoro, your eyes searching his for any lingering traces of anger. "Are you okay?"

But before Zoro can respond, he takes your hand in his with a determined grip, his expression unreadable yet intense. Without a word, he begins to lead you away from the crowded hall, his steps purposeful and unwavering.

Confusion mingles with curiosity as you follow him, your heart pounding with anticipation.

As you reach the door of the storage, you feel blood rush to your face. The two of you only ever go here for one thing.

Zoro turns to you, his gaze locking with yours in a silent yet powerful exchange. Without a word, he pushes open the door and pulls you inside, making your eyes adjust to the dim lighting.

With a gentle yet urgent insistence, Zoro presses you against the wall, his lips finding yours in a hungry, desperate kiss.

“Mmm!” you whimper against his lips, taken off guard by the suddenness of his advances.

There is a rawness to his touch, a primal need that leaves you breathless.

In that moment, as you lose yourselves in the heat of the moment, you realize that words are no longer necessary. Zoro's actions speak volumes, baring his emotions in a way that words never could.

As Zoro's lips trail down your neck, igniting a fiery trail of desire, you let out a low moan of pleasure.

"Fuck," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath as you arch into his touch, your hands tangling in his hair.

He groans against your flesh, causing goosebumps to bud all over your needy skin as he continues his fervent exploration.

In a sudden burst of intensity, Zoro's hands find the hem of your shirt, his fingers gripping the fabric with a primal need. With a swift motion, he tears the fabric away, baring your skin to his hungry gaze.

"Zoro-!" you gasp, a rush of adrenaline coursing through you as you feel the cool air against your exposed flesh, your heart pounding in your chest.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire, a feral hunger burning within them. "I need you," he murmurs, his voice husky with longing.

“Please,” you whine, your voice a breathless plea as he trails kisses down your chest.

As Zoro's lips continue their tantalizing journey across your skin, your senses reel with desire. You allow your head to lull back, shutting your eyes and letting your mouth hang slack as you savor each and every touch.

His hardworking, calloused hands explore your body with a newfound possessiveness, and it makes you feel small; he owns you and you like it.

With trembling hands, you reach for Zoro's shirt, eager to feel the warmth of his skin against yours. With practiced ease, he shrugs off the garment, revealing the defined muscles beneath.

The sight of him, bare-chested and consumed with passion, sends a thrill coursing through you. Without hesitation, you press your body against his, reveling in the heat that radiates between you.

Lost in the heat of the moment, you abandon all inhibitions, giving in to the primal urges that drive you both. Your hands roam freely over his taut muscles, tracing the lines of his scars as you explore every inch of him.

As your fingers dance over his scars, Zoro's breath hitches, his dark eyes locking with yours in a silent exchange of desire.

"You're mine," he murmurs huskily, his voice rough with emotion.

A shiver runs down your spine at his possessive declaration, but instead of fear, it awakens something entirely different within you. "Yours," you whisper back.

With a hungry growl, Zoro captures your lips in a searing kiss, his hands gripping your waist tightly, possessively.

"Never forget it," he breathes against your skin, his lips trailing down your neck.

You arch into his touch, gasping as pleasure courses through your veins. "I won't," you promise, your words melting into a moan as he trails kisses along your collarbone.

Zoro's hands slide down to the hem of your skirt, lifting it up with a hunger that matches the intensity of his gaze. As he exposes more of your skin, his breath catches at the sight; your trembling thighs, your wet panties.

“All this?” he smirks, tsking, “All because I got a little possessive?”

“M-mhm,” you whine weakly, shaking beneath his touch.

With a low growl, Zoro grips your thigh, lifting it up to press his crotch against yours. The heat of his body sends electric currents coursing through you, and you can feel the tension building with each heartbeat.

Your hands clutch at his shoulders, fingers digging into the muscles beneath his skin as you pull him closer, craving more of his touch. "Zoro," you gasp his name, your voice a plea and a prayer all at once.

His lips find yours once more, claiming you with a hunger that leaves you dizzy with need. With each movement, each touch, you feel yourself surrendering completely to his dominance.

Zoro’s calloused fingertips trail down your body to meet your slit, making you gasp softly at the sensation.

He smirks, hooking his fingers beneath the soaked fabric and tugging it aside.

In the same breath, he tugs his pants and boxers down, just enough to remove his cock, rock-hard and throbbing in his grasp.

He leans forwards, the tip of his cock meeting your leaking slit with a gentle nudge. You suck your bottom lip between your teeth to stifle a moan, reaching around to dig your fingernails into the muscular flesh of the swordsman’s back.

“Yeah?’ he groans smugly, pressing his lips to your neck, “Ready for me?” he questions, his words hot against your flesh.

“Y-Yes, Zoro,” you plead, your tone coming out whinier than anticipated, “Please-”

“Please?” he chuckles against your skin, the dark tone of his voice causing goosebumps to erupt all over your body, “Please what?” he presses, continuing to guide his thick tip up and down your aching cunt.

You abandon all dignity, the desire for him to just fuck you already overpowering any morsel of self-respect you once contained.

“Please fuck me, Zoro,” you beg, “Show me just how much I belong to you.”

With a low, primal growl, Zoro's grip tightens on your thigh, his eyes dark with hunger as he positions himself at your entrance.

“That’s it, good girl,” he smirks.

Without another word, he thrusts into you with a force that steals your breath away, claiming you completely in a single, powerful motion.

“Zoro-!” you cry out, raking your nails down his back. The sudden bump of his tip to your cervix causes your head to grow fuzzy, and you pathetically attempt to stifle your moans with a shaky hand to your mouth.

With a devilish smirk, Zoro's thrusts intensify, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he hears your attempts to stifle your moans. He grabs your hand away from your mouth and pins it above your head,

"No," he growls, his voice low and commanding, "Let them hear you. Let them know who you belong to."

His words send a shiver down your spine, and without hesitation, you obey, letting out a loud, unabashed moan that fills the room with the sound of your pleasure. With each thrust, each gasp, you make it known to anyone within earshot that you are his.

The sensation of him filling you completely makes your limbs go numb with pleasure, igniting a fire that burns hotter with each deep, primal thrust. Your nails dig into his back as you cling to him, lost in a haze of ecstasy.

“Fuck, Zoro,” you whine, tears of pleasure flowing down your cheeks as he pounds you into the wall.

Zoro's movements are relentless, driving you both to the edge of sanity as he takes you with a possessiveness that leaves no room for doubt.

You continue to moan loudly for the man you have to thank for your pleasure, making him smirk and double his efforts, the rhythmic sound of your bodies slapping together hardly masking your cries.

"That’s it,” the swordsman chuckles, “No need to be shy," he teases, his voice dripping with amusement, "Let them all know who's making you scream like that."

And as you let out another loud, unrestrained moan, Zoro leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he adds with a playful grin,

"After all, it's not every day they get to witness the full extent of my skills."

1K notes · View notes

itsswritten · 1 month

Text

Threads of Hazel

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader

Word Count: 3.6K

Warnings: Angst, blood, gore, injuries, hints of death.

Summary: A mating bond can connect those who have not even met, but can it save them too?

All that welcomed you was the cold, splodges of darkness filtering in your distorted vision.

Time seemed to stretch and contract in the void, a dizzying whirl of uncertainty. How long had it been? Weeks? Months? Perhaps even longer.

No one was coming.

Why had you dared to hope?

It was that gentle hazel glow that danced behind closed eyelids that had stirred within you. A glimmer of something that felt worthy of holding onto. Something to believe in.

But it must have been a trick of the mind, a cruel illusion born from the depths of insanity.

No one was coming. No one ever would.

Maybe it was time to give up.

Time to surrender to the abyss, to let go of the tenuous thread that bound you to consciousness. As you teetered on the edge of oblivion, a fleeting sensation brushed against your senses, a whisper of familiarity.

You could smell it, faint and distant yet unmistakable.

Night-chilled mist and cedar.

It was that scent again. But like a wisp of smoke on the wind, it vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving your senses grasping at shadows in the void.

Another wicked false sense of hope. Your mind must be creating delusions as it comes close to its end.

No one was coming.

It was time to let go.

***

This was the last location. And then they’d go home.

Finally.

Azriel straightened his posture, rolling back his shoulders with a weary sigh. His wings unfurled and then tucked in against his back. He felt anchored, weighed down, by the silent burdens he was carrying. Even his shadows were slumped against him, as if they were also affected by his fatigue.

Azriel was utterly exhausted.

Despite Cassian's concerned pleas for him to stay behind and rest, Azriel couldn't bring himself to heed them. The ache in his bones and the weight of exhaustion pulling at his limbs were nothing compared to the thought of letting Feyre and his brother face this mission alone.

He was Spymaster of the Night Court, he would fulfil his duties regardless of his own welfare. Regardless of the demons that weighed on him.

But these demons of his, had been plaguing him for months. Clear in the dark offset look of his gaze, and the purple shadows that sat beneath his eyes– he was a tormented soul.

The aftermath of the war had etched its scars deep into Azriel. It was a sensation he was all too familiar with, the fallout of anguish and slaughter, had always defined his life. But in recent months, his demons seemed to be haunting him more fiercely than usual, their whispers echoing in the silence of the night.

For months, Azriel had been plagued by a recurring dream, a nightmare he assumed. Because as much as he tried he couldn’t recall the details. Each time he would wake from the depths of his sleep, finding himself drenched in a clammy sheen of sweat, his chest heaving attempting to draw in air as though a claw was clenched around his lungs.

But that is all that would linger.

A feeling, no memory of what had caused this reaction within him. No clue as to why his body shivered in fear when he woke.

It was a maddening cycle, the dream hovering just beyond the edges of his consciousness. Clearly haunting in nature and yet elusive. Each day felt like a puzzle with a missing piece, the memory of something crucial lurking just beyond reach.

So close, and yet not close enough. And it was driving him mad.

In a desperate attempt to break free from that grip, he tried avoiding sleep altogether. Yet, that feeling persisted. A restless energy coursing beneath his skin. It was relentless, a constant reminder– that he was forgetting something of importance.

And that feeling terrified him. Azriel had always known most, metalicus with his gathering of intel and information. Skilled in deciphering most people and their thoughts. But his own mind had him at a loss. He was no Spymaster of his own consciousness, simply a male who couldn’t sleep because of a nightmare.

Feyre, Cassian and Azriel had embarked on the final leg of their scouting mission. Despite the passing of time since the war's end, new pockets of Hybern loyalists still cropped up. The three of them were tasked with weeding out any lingering enemies. They had arrived at the last location Azriel’s intel had unearthed. A manor house on the skirts of the borders, had whispered rumours to be a base for some Hybern stragglers.

Derelict and crumbling, the building seemed to sag under the weight of its own deterioration, its once-majestic features now reduced to a skeletal framework of crumbling stone and splintered wood. The scars of fire marred its surface, meaning any valuable pieces of information that might have once resided within its walls had long since been burnt. Nothing but charred remnants and ash laid in their wake.

They had been too late, but they still had to check nonetheless.

"All clear from up above," Cassian announced, his voice cutting through the silence as he landed beside Feyre, who had just reentered what remained of the foyer. She had meticulously scouted the left wing of the building, while Azriel had taken the right.

"Clear here too," Feyre confirmed with a nod, her eyes scanning the dimly lit space for any signs of danger.

Azriel soon joined them. His part of the search had also yielded no immediate threats. Cassian stood beside his brother, kicking some burnt debris with his foot while mumbling that it was a shame Hybern’s men had burnt this place. That it was such a waste. But Azriel wasn’t listening.

Running his rough hand down his face, he let out a heavy sigh. A very clear tell that he was not okay. Something Azriel never showed. But he could feel it again, under his skin. Pinching at him. Something faint in this chest, weighed and sliced, only to subside to a dull ache.

He felt uneasy, as he had for months but there was something about this place that had shaken a deepness within his gut. Even his shadows fluttered nervously around him.

Maybe he would need to see Madja when he got home. Or maybe even relinquish his pride, and ask Rhys for help.

“Let’s get this checked over quickly, and then head home. It’s been a long mission,” Feyre spoke softly, offering both males encouraging smiles as she gestured towards the back of the building.

Feyre’s eyes settled on Azriel, giving him a reassuring look. For a moment Azriel almost let her in, he had noticed the concerned looks and touches his family had given him. Growing more and more these recent weeks. Instead though, he nodded softly following the pair into the back room.

They descended down grand stairs, into the lower levels of the house. Each step he took echoed through the empty remnants of the building, every move feeling heavier and weightier. They were hit with a chill when they reached the bottom. In the absence of natural light, Feyre conjured small orbs of illumination, casting soft, flickering light that bobbed across the dark space. The feeble glow revealed crumbling walls and decaying remnants of furniture, similar to what they had seen upstairs.

The air was heavy with the scent of decay and mildew, but there was something metallic that lingered.

Blood.

They could smell blood. And there was something else too. Perfumy and chemical.

Faebane.

Tensions rose as they all hesitated on their weapons, Azriel’s fingers gingerly hovering over Truth Teller as they stepped deeper within the space. Azriel's shadows flickered and swirled around him, their movements erratic and unsettling. They sensed something lurking in the darkness, something that sent a shiver down his spine.

There was this haunting apprehension washing over Azriel as if he had been here before. He couldn’t quite place it, couldn’t quite pinpoint why he didn’t feel like a stranger in this room.

As though he had been here many times before and yet this was still his first time here. That gnawing began deep in his gut again as his fingers gripped at his dagger.

He heard Feyre gasp loudly, before his eyes quickly scanned to see what her light had revealed.

A figure, barely recognisable in the dim light, hung limply from chains fastened to the wall, body gaunt and ravaged by torture. Steel rods protruded from flesh, each one coated in the deadly poison of faebane, its sickly scent permeating the air.

Feyre's hands flew to her mouth in horror, her eyes wide with disbelief and revulsion. "Is she..." her voice trailed off, unable to voice the question that hung in her mind. She had to stop herself from gagging, as the contents of her stomach threatened to spill up her throat.

Even Cassian, veteran of countless battles and witness to nearly every injury imaginable, could not conceal the grimace that tugged at his lips. They all took a moment to absorb the sight before them, Azriel remaining motionless as he processed the scene. The sensation from earlier still persisted, but now intensifying as Azriel's gaze fell upon the steel rod protruding from the body's chest, a sharp pang jolting through his own.

Azriel staggered, overcome by a sudden wave of agony that seized him, breaths ragged and uneven. Feyre moved swiftly to his side, her hand offering comfort as she implored about his well-being, but his attention was elsewhere.

He wasn’t listening to Feyre, he was listening to his shadows.

Alive.

They were pulsating beside him, waiting for his orders, waiting to be released, begging to be released.

Azriel clutched his chest, mustering his strength to stand straighter, the pain subsiding for now as he took a hesitant step closer,

Alive, alive, alive.

They whispered frantically this time, their urgency desperate.

Then Azriel saw it. The faint rise and fall of your chest, the subtle rhythm of your heartbeat still persisting against all odds.

Azriel's breath caught in his throat, his mind struggling to process the sight before him.

How? How were you still alive?

He wasn't the only one to notice. Cassian, wasted no time in springing into action, his voice commanding as he instructed them to release you from your chains, to get you the urgent help you needed. Both Feyre and Cassian, mentally calling to Rhys to be ready with Madja.

But Azriel was frozen in place, his senses honed in on the fragile thread of life that still clung to you. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as he watched, his chest constricting with an overwhelming emotion.

He remembered.

The sight before him wasn’t new. No, he had seen this. Seen you before. Felt this way every night for months.

It was you whom he had been forgetting when he woke, the haunting echo of your desperate pleas vibrating in his mind. As he watched your body slump to the floor, freed from the chains that had bound you, Azriel struggled to push back the flood of visions that threatened to overwhelm him.

Visions of you, screaming, pleading for someone to help you.

Begging him to come save you.

How could he have forgotten? Your cries had pierced through the darkness, reaching out to him night after night.

A plea for salvation had rippled down the thread that seemed to connect you.

That thread.

That power that had subconsciously been connecting you both for months began to hum. Louder and brighter than anything Azriel had ever felt before.

It was a realisation, a confirmation to what he had been feeling for all that time. The golden warmth finally settled under his bones, consuming all his senses.

The mating bond.

You were his mate.

Something that was supposed to be so cherished, felt incredibly bittersweet as he watched your near dead form be pulled into Cassian’s arms.

He could feel your pain seeping through the bond, in fact that is what he had been feeling all those weeks. Your suffering leaking its way down to Azriel. Your pleas reaching him in the depths of his sleep.

He had a mate, finally.

And yet when he pulled gently on that faint thread that linked you to him, he could feel it fading.

Maybe he was too late.

***

A bright white light filled your vision, its touch lining your body slowly.

It was time. You were ready.

But just as you were on the brink of surrender, a golden warmth surged forth, wrapping around you like a protective shield. It tugged at you, pulling you back, refusing to let you go.

Not now, not yet. It spoke.

You resisted, clinging stubbornly to the edge of oblivion, but the pull of that hazel glow was undeniable.

Let me go. It hurts. I want to leave. Your soul cried towards the glow.

The hazel glow called out to you with a familiarity that stirred something deep within your soul.

I won’t let you go. Not now, not now that I have you.

You couldn’t understand. You heard no voice, yet you felt every word.

I need you to fight, for yourself, for me, fight harder than you ever have done and I promise, after this, you will never have to fight again.

Why those words had some sway over you, you weren’t sure. But when your senses filled with that comforting scent you had smelt every night for the past months. It tethered you, anchoring you in the physical realm once more.

You could smell it again, night-chilled air and cedar.

You would hold onto it one last time.

***

Agonising screams filled the air as you writhed in pain on the makeshift table. Your body contorting, fingers clawing desperately at the gaping wound in your chest. Even in the dim light, Azriel could see the blood, thick and crimson oozing through your fingers as you had lurched up when Cassian had pulled the poison coated rod from your chest.

They had managed to remove some while you were unconscious, but the pain of this one, deep in your chest, had yanked you awake. How you were still alive none of them understood. Your injuries and body filled with enough faebane to kill a dozen fae.

Your vision was still distorted. Just one of the injuries that ravaged your body. Only blurry shapes and figures filled your sight, and the lack of that sense only added to your fear. You couldn’t see who you were with, and although they didn’t sound like your captors, you didn’t know them. Didn’t trust them, and they were hurting you.

Even if they repeatedly told you they were helping you, their touch just brought more pain.

Madja flitted around Cassian, her hands hovering over the faebane-drenched wounds in a futile attempt to heal. Azriel stood at the head of the table, crouched down close as he firmly held one of your arms down. His shadows fidgeted uneasily around him, reflecting his inner turmoil. He had witnessed countless horrors in his life, some inflicted upon himself, but seeing his mate in such agony was a new level of torment.

Feeling the pain trickling down the bond was tearing him apart.

“Stop, stop. Please…” Your plea was raw, your voice strained and hoarse from the agony that wracked your body. Azriel shuddered at your tone, your voice an echo of the nightmares that had haunted him for endless nights.

He remembered it all now.

Each night, stumbling through darkness, trying to follow that golden bond to you. To your calls for him. And each time, he tried to figure out where you were, how to get to you, how to save you only to forget everything when he woke. His memory of you slipping through his fingers like sand.

“Rhys, there must be something you can do,” he pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation as he looked over your pained expression.

Feyre had diligently wiped the blood from your face, revealing slashes across your eyes. Remarkably, Madja seemed optimistic about their healing potential, though it was contingent upon your survival. He could feel your fear rippling down the bond, how frightened and in pain you were.

“Azriel…my power, I can’t penetrate her mind. The faebane has saturated her body, creating an impenetrable barrier,” Rhys responded. “I’m sorry brother…I’m truly sorry.”

Azriel couldn’t contain the small whispered sob that escaped him, his hand flying to his mouth to stifle the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

When Cassian had carried you from that dark basement, Azriel had acted on instinct, snatching you carefully from his brother's arms and holding you close. He whispered into your ear, a litany of apologies for not finding you sooner, for the pain you endured. He begged you to fight, to hold on for him. And had clung to that faint glimmer of hope as he returned to the safety of the River House.

Rhys had prepared a table for Madja to work on, but neither of them had anticipated the extent of your injuries.

Azriel had laid you on the table, still unconscious as he nervously watched Rhys and Madja try their best. Cassian and Feyre joining them moments later to help.

It was then they had all realised.

He was fussing over you, whispering frantically and his shadows had been skittishly tracing over your body and injuries. So unlike the usual calm and collected Spymaster.

Rhys had pieced it together first. Simply stating She’s your mate into Azriel’s mind. Although it was clear by the heartbreaking expressions on his family's faces, they were all aware of the significance you held.

Azriel felt helpless, he couldn’t lessen your anguish, couldn’t heal you, couldn’t do anything.

Your sobbing started again, while you writhed under their strong hands. Pleading for release. Instead, they responded with reassurances and hushed whispers, and there was one voice in particular that washed over you in a familiarity you didn’t understand.

You fought against them, resisting their attempts to restrain you, but they were stronger. Another wave of agony rippled through you as they worked to remove one of the steel bars embedded within your flesh.

“Focus, Shadowsinger,” Madja's voice cut through the turmoil, her gaze landing on him firmly.

“The best course of action is to remove these rods and then attempt to drain the faebane from her system. Her resilience is remarkable, but she won’t survive much longer without intervention.” Madja was speaking directly to Azriel now, he took a second to look down at you crying on the table. Cassian and Rhys holding you down, while they calculated removing the next impalement.

Madja continued, “If you want to help her, comfort her, support her.” The instructions were clear.

Feyre spoke then, glancing between your pained form and then to Azriel. “Use the bond Az, she needs you.”

With hesitation, Azriel’s rough hand found yours. Holding it tightly. Grooves and lines were etched into his weathered skin, speaking of his own past battles. Instinctively you wanted to recoil from the stranger's touch, but as you felt another pull on your torso you clutched down on his hand tightly. Another sob racking through you.

You felt him close to you now, his presence enveloping you as his warm breath brushed across your face. He was close to you. But you couldn’t make out who he was. Only a blurred version of a male with tan skin and dark hair. His other hand grazed your cheek, offering you a comfort you hadn’t felt in months.

“I need you to fight just a little longer,” the voice was deep and warm, there was something about it or maybe it was the words he had chosen that felt familiar.

“It hurts..” you whispered, another sob leaving your lips.

"I know, I know it does...but not much longer, okay? And then you can rest, I promise," he reassured you, igniting a flicker of hope within you despite the overwhelming pain.

Then Azriel pulled gently on the bond sending ripples of reassurance and comfort down the link. So much that he hoped to drown any pain out you were feeling.

You felt that golden warmth fill your chest, that same feeling that had pulled you from the white abyss many times before.

"It's you..." Your voice choked with emotion, the realisation dawning upon you.

Azriel stood there, uncertain of how to respond, but he watched as you turned toward him, your brows furrowed in concentration. Though your vision remained distorted, blurred colours danced before you, and amidst the haze of black and deep tan, you saw it—the faint glimmer of hazel.

"You came for me..."

"Always..." Azriel's voice cracked with emotion, his unwavering commitment laid bare.

With the last of the rods removed, your body bled profusely. Madja urged caution, while Feyre urgently advocated to cauterise the wounds. But with this amount of faebane, they grappled with the best course of action. Their voices melding in a flurry of noise.

A soft, sad smile graced your lips, your hand reaching out to touch the figure before you, feeling the contours of his cheek beneath your fingertips.

Blood began to fill your mouth, the red liquid seeping through your smile. The bitter taste staining your words. Azriel began to shake his head, clinging to that fading bond with all his strength. With a pained slowness, he felt your hand slip from his cheek, leaving a blood-stained print upon his skin.

"You were real..." Your voice was barely a whisper now, breaths shallow. "My thread of hazel."

a/n: ngl I don't love this lol, doesn't feel like my best work but sometimes it's better posted than perfect! I had originally planned for this to be longer, but writers slump has me in a chokehold so this is all I managed! Anywho, hope you enjoyed the angst! <3 - Lottie Forever tags: @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @milswrites @amberlynn98 @marscardigan @illyrianbitch @lilah-asteria

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #acotar fanfiction #angst #acotar series #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel fanfiction #azriel imagine #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel angst #azriel x y/n #azriel series #azriel fic rec

876 notes · View notes