#i love the shine on his hair and the shadow from the door falling on him as he stands there looking so dramatic and contrite in the rain

[historiaxvanserra]

These Violent Delights | An Eris Vanserra story

Summary: At a ball in Hewn City, you meet your match in Eris Vanserra

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Archeron!Reader (brief mentions of Azriel x reader)

Word Count: 7.6k

Previously called If I Can’t Have Love, I Want Power. I changed the name to adapt if from a one shot into a series.

You had been born on a night like this, you think. The storm-streaked clouds line the heavens like flowering hydrangeas as they dissolve into a black abyss and the moonlight shines like pearls on the water where the horizon meets the Sidra. 

Storm-streaked they had called you. 

When you were a little girl, your father had told you that you had come into this world in the same way as the old Gods had. Born from the merciless depths of some unknowable blue-darkness; cruel and beautiful, and fearless. 

Now fear is all you know. 

The crack of forked white lightening against the darkening horizon pushes you further into introspective thought. The visions come with the quiet; flashes of silver and gold and the icy embrace of the water. That infernal cauldron and what it had taken from. It haunts you, even in dreaming.  

Of late, the days seem to pass in a state of perpetual purgatory, marred by memories and the water– an unforgiving tempest that tears through you. 

The water cleanses but it also devastates. 

Your father had once called you water; the salt and the sea. 

You had always wondered what that meant. 

But here you stand-- a storm incarnate; volatile, half-wild and isolating. And who can become the water without inheriting its violence, or its loneliness?

The feeling of harsh violet eyes on you is enough to drag you gaze from your spot near the balcony and the storm as it rages outside. 

“Are you ready, Nesta?” Rhysand’s voice is velvet night as it reverberates around the small waiting room. 

A chill runs down your spine when you catch his eyes, glinting and violet in the dim light. You regard Nesta cooly as she tilts her chin upwards. 

“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” Nesta’s eyes are lined with kohl and looking at her is like looking into the eye of a storm.

She always had an austere kind of beauty that left you speechless. 

Rhysand only nods simply before taking Feyre’s arm and approaching the large doorway. Nesta and Elain fall into rank behind them with practiced ease. It is you who hovers awkwardly in the background for a moment before taking your place in the middle of the formation. A solitary figure amongst them. 

You swallow thickly and you catch the lingering scent of a night chilled mist as you bristle. A whisper of night wraps itself around you like a cold comfort. These days his scent seems to follow you like a shadow; though, you suppose when you’ve spent every night this week wrapped around him, trying to drown out your own thoughts, there is bound to be a trace of him that lingers there.

At last, the towering doors to the throne room yawned open. 

The throne room is lined with black candles and evergreen wreaths frame the doorway, and moonflowers climb up the high, onyx pillars like ivy. And on each side of the aisles there were two magnificent banquet tables, piled high with food enough to feed a city. Though it was not to be touched without express permission from the High Lord.

A ripple of dark power reverberates through the mountain as The High Lord and Lady enter the throne room. You swear you feel the mountain wail in their presence. It is a powerful thing and you feel something within yourself begin to stir with it. 

A cold rage as it makes a home in your chest. 

The courtiers pale as they approach, parting like the tide as their High Lord and High Lady brush through them, crowned in silver crystals and garbed in midnight black robes. 

Rhysand looks beautiful you think as your eyes find him in the procession-- he stands tall against you all, his hair perfectly quaffed and the rich scent of mandarin and night-blooming jasmine seems to follow him.

All that pales in comparison to Feyre; the dress she wears is like tangible shadow. Gossamer thin silk and tulle that glitters with flecks of silver starlight, all gathered about her waist with a thin belt that accentuates the swell of her stomach. 

The room beholds her with baited breath; a sense of awe and ire. 

She looks like the visage of some ancient Goddess of the moon; pale and beautiful in the silvery light. 

You sense a shift in the air as they approach the dias and Rhysand’s shoulders tense; he is a picture of male pride. There is a dangerous quality to it that chills you to the bone. A cold violence that feels almost kindred to you. Feyre’s full red lips part and she smiles until it seems to dampen Rhys’s anger as he reaches for her as they climb the steps of the onyx dias. 

Keir’s face is twisted in a half-grimace, somewhere between astonishment and anguish. Behind him the Eris Vanserra remains fixed in place, his face set in a painfully neutral expression as he regards the High Lord and Lady. 

Motion from behind you beckons you to move as Nesta and Elain fall into step with you and begin to pace the length of the aisle and approach the dias. 

All three of you are dressed in Night Court black. A symbol of your place amongst the royal family. A warning of the dark power which you all possessed. Stolen and gifted from that cauldron. A reminder of your value. It is a carefully rehearsed routine as Nesta takes her place between you both, the flare of her skirts bushing against the marble floor with each long stride. You and Elain flank her sides like two wraiths. 

Elain looks sallow in black, you think as you catch her eyes. A poor initiation of the coldness you wear so well etched onto her beautiful face and steely determination in her dark, rich eyes. 

Nesta outshines you all tonight-- her golden hair braided into a crown atop her head and a delicate crown glints in the lantern light, slender spikes jutting forward in a dark corona. Her wicked eyes glinted like cobalt in the light. She’s dressed all in black. The gown itself is skin tight and embroidered with intricate silver brocade, twisting vines and moonflowers adorn the velvet bodice, tracing the curve of her breasts and sinking low, to her navel where the silver thread gathers about a sapphire that matches the crystals on her crown. 

Nesta is a cruel beauty; enough to bring a God to his knees. 

And Cassian looks about ready to sink to his knees before her as you regard him on the dias. 

Nestas moves with a feline grace, expressive and smirking as she takes her place between Cassian and Elain on the platform. 

Feyre and Rhysand sink into their thrones with a measured grace and from your stop between Elain and Azriel you can see all the eyes in the room as they flit from one member of the Inner Circle to the next. 

But it is the strange amber gaze of Eris Vanserra that you meet in the gathering crowd. He offers you a courteous nod and the ghost of a smirk graces his full lips and you send a scathing look in his direction in return.

You hope he feels the bitter sting of your coldness as your eyes try to find anything else in the throne room to focus on. 

Azriel rolls on the balls of his feet as the silence settles in the room and he inches so close to you that you feel the scarred pads of his fingers brush the exposed skin of your back. 

“You look good in black,” his voice is impossibly quiet, almost inaudible as he dips low enough that he is speaking into the shell of your ear. 

A cold chill runs up the length of your spine.

“Thank you, Shadowsinger,” You say simply, a feral smile on your lips as you bare your teeth to him. 

A laugh sharp and cruel rings through you and Azriel’s hand tangles in the lengths of your hair tugging sharply. 

“You are most welcome,” Azriel agrees, his voice is like shadow and wind as it graces your ears “most welcome indeed.”

Azriel steps back into line as Rhysand stands to address the crowd. 

Your own spine straightens as though it is muscle memory by now. Obedience. To bend and break as the High Lord and Lady saw fit. 

Rhysand looks like Night Triumphant as he regards his uncle with a strange union of cruelty and cordiality. Recently Rhys and Feyre had softened slightly with the people of Hewn City. Keir in particular. They can’t afford to isolate him from court politics-- in case the need arises for his Darkbringers to fight again. Hence the fact Rhysand even abides his presence at all. Rhysand’s cruel gaze lingers just a touch too long though. A careful reminder of the fate he’ll earn if he ever decided to go against Rhys. 

It’s been months since you’ve been to Hewn City, longer since you involved yourself in court politics. Longer still, since any whispers of the Trove or Briallyn reached you. Though you aren’t naive enough to believe it is over. 

None of the Inner Circle are. 

That is why you find yourself in Hewn City tonight. Swathed in the sallow light, and painted like a pretty whore; all red lips and dark eyes, with trembling hands, wanting nothing more than to be back in that little cabin with your sisters by your side-- as you were when you were girls. 

Feyre rises to her feet to join Rhys and she addresses the crowd, “May the blessings of the Winter Solstice be upon you.” 

The crowd seems to hum in acknowledgement and then they bow in a show of deference. 

Or blind obedience. 

Your eyes meet the strange amber gaze of Eris Vanserra once more, and it is you he looks at when he kneels. 

Keir slinks forward, offering your sister a low bow, “Allow me to extend my congratulations, High Lady.” His voice drips with false flattery as he dips his chin in a show of esteem. 

Eris Vanserra moves like a predator as he stalks forward, offering your sister a devastating, cultivated smile that feels almost authentic. “And allow me to extend my sincerest wishes, on behalf of my father and the entire Autumn Court.”

Rhysand’s mouth curls into a wicked half smile, his eyes darken to an amethyst color as she speaks “I’m sure your father will be most pleased for us.”

The implication that hands in the air is a dangerous one and you can feel the color drain from you at the terse exchange. A few more beast of silence and--

“Music,” The High Lord calls out and the orchestra from behind the mezzanine begins to play lightly, the sounds of lyres and harps ring through the air. 

Feyre once again addresses the crown, every inch the High Lady, “Go--eat--enjoy.” The crowd of silent courtiers disperse throughout the room as they aim to take their places at the tables. 

Each banquet table is piled high with an obscene amount of food and you find yourself feeling ashamed of the blatant opulence before you. When once you had nothing. Now you live without wanting. It makes you feel ashamed. How your old self would resent this wasteful indulgence. 

Turning away from the feasting courtiers you turn inwards towards the thrones on the dias. 

Now only Eris and Keir remain standing before the High Lord and Lady. You notice how neither of the men has deigned to acknowledge Morrigan’s presence behind the thrones. She looks ethereal and savage as she smirks down at them, her lips look as though they are stained wine red. 

Blood red, you think. 

The Illyrain’s at either side of you and your sisters look more like beasts carved into the dark stone of the mountain than anything else. Azriel and Cassian are clad in black armor, each adorned in ruby and sapphire to match their siphons that glow faintly in the low light. The brothers look as though they are the visage of some Gods of old; statuesque and hard-faced as they regard the Autumn Prince.

Cassian in particular looks like he might invoke some of that ancient power to stop Eris from dancing with Nesta tonight. He had not objected but, how could he? Rhys was his brother and his High Lord. Obedience is easier than the alternative. 

And the fate of The Night Court-- his home-- could rest on Eris’ alliance. So he will bite his tongue in the knowledge that what Eris offers is a chance at defeating Briallyn and Koschei. 

From your spot you watch the Autumn Prince with piqued curiosity. He will not stop looking at you and it is infuriating. 

It brings a cold anger bubbling to the skin's surface; all biting fury and icy violence. 

The conversation between Keir and Rhys seems to come to a natural end and the lull in the conversation has the whole room falling into silence, waiting for their next order. Like puppets.

And your sister the puppet master, pulling the strings as she commands, her voice like thunder at midnight, “Dance--”.

The courtiers like a midnight sea part and pair off in swathes of dark silk and velvet. Even Keir retreats into the crowd and pairs off with a dark haired female. 

Eris turns on his heels, the wrap of his riding boots against the floor echo through your head. 

“Before you join in the merriment, Eris,” Rhy’s voice is a velvet drawl as he presents a long black box, “I’d like to present you with your Solstice gift.”

You swallow hard and step forward. Procuring the box from Rhysand you press forward, one long stride that brings you face to face with the Autumn Prince and for the first time you truly look at him. 

A night-kissed wind envelops the pair of you, enough to wrap behind Eris blocking the dias from view of the dancing courtiers. 

Eris Vanserra is devastating; he has a cruel sort of beauty, with a strong jaw and high cheekbones that look sharp enough to cut into you, but his eyes are soft and unwavering. He is a strange juxtaposition.

Eris arches a brow at Rhysand and you flip open the carved lid of the box. Eris stiffens, his voice low and dangerous. 

“What is this?” he asks, somewhere between disbelief and wariness. 

“A present,” Rhysand clarifies and you catch a glimpse of ruby and gold on the hilt of the dagger. 

You refrain from grimacing at the truth you are confronted with. Rhysand and your sister want to sell off Nesta like a broodmare and her Made weapons with her. 

A truly beautiful piece. And dangerous too. 

Like Eris, something in you calls.

Eris’ hand hovers over the open box and he sucks in a sharp breath.

“You sense its power, then?” Feyre asks voice dripping with a sense of smugness that does not suit her in the slightest. 

Eris nods carefully, his eyes flicking to the High Lord and Lady before finding yours again. 

“There’s flame in it,” he says, hand still hovering over the weapon. As if something in him senses its true power. He closes the lid abruptly. “Why give it to me?”

Feyre smiles lightly and shrugs, “You’re our ally.”

Feyre rests a protective hand over the swell of her stomach, “You face enemies that exist outside of the usual rules of magic. It’s only fair to grant you a weapon that operates outside of those rules too.”

You stand transfixed by the twitch of his jaw and the bob of his throat as he considers her words. 

“It is truly made then?” He asks, carefully. His eyes never leave yours and it is your voice that answers his question. 

“It is, My Lord.” your voice comes out all cold and gravelly, unlike yourself. 

Rhysand speaks again though the beating of your heart renders him almost mute, “From my personal collection. An heirloom of sorts.” 

“All this time,” Eris’ voice is dark and thoughtful, “ all these years you possessed a Made weapon and you kept it hidden.”

“Even during the war,” Eris says more to himself than anyone else. 

There is a dangerous sense of anger and skepticism in the air as Eris examines the weapon again, his hand once more runs over the length of the dagger, his fingers barely ghosting the cool metal. 

“Don’t take our generosity for granted,” Feyre offers in warning, her voice quiet and threatening. 

Eris stills and nods in acknowledgement. He extends a smile that looks courteous enough to be genuine and once more allows his finger to run over the smooth length of the blade. “Thank you,” 

“Might I leave it in your safekeeping while I dance, My Lady?” Eris’s voice seems distant and far away and it takes a moment for you to realize that he is speaking directly to you. 

You look at him coldly, unable to muster the warmth of genuine affection when he is looking at you like that. It is infuriating. That someone so cruel might also be so insufferably handsome. 

“Yes, My Lord.”

Feyre nods to Rhys and Eris in acknowledgement and against your better judgment you let your eyes linger over the graceful curve of his calves and up over the contours of his muscled thighs, all the way up over the broad expanse of his chest and finally becoming entangled in the unbound curls of copper hair as he sweeps it over his shoulder. 

Devilishly and devastatingly handsome. Sun-blood handsome. 

Feyre’s soft lilt brings you back to reality as she says “Use it well, Lord.” 

Your sister's smile curves into a soft smile at Eris and extends a hand to him, “Ordinarily I would ask you to dance, but my condition has left me quite unwell.” Feyre makes a show of looking between the two sisters who stand in line with Cassian and Azriel. 

Elain, at least, has the good grace to give the impression of seeming interested. Nesta though looks bored. As though she is only half listening. As though they hadn’t just given away the dagger she’d Made. 

Perhaps it was the way that Nesta’s grey eyes had drifted away from the dancing sea of courtiers, or the forlorn look on Cassian’s face as he stood on the dias, but either way it made you realize something. That maybe the Illyrian General meant more to Nesta than she would ever let on. More than that dagger-- more than magic or power or court politics.  

Feyre notes the direction of Nesta’s stare and then looks between you and Eris. The corners of her lips twitch in nervous anticipation as her eyes settle on you. 

“My lovely sister shall take my place.” Feyre nods to you and for a moment you let the icy wrath in your stare settle over her before dipping your head to her. 

Eris’ throat bobs as you assess him with that same cold gaze. A slender hand takes the Made dagger from you and you hold out a hand to him. 

He extends a sculpted arm out to you, his large hand wrapping around you as you yield to him. His long, deft fingers brush against yours; his skin is warm to the touch and even in the pallid light it is clear and pale, with golden hues that compliment the warm depths of his eyes. Your chest grows taut and you feel emotion course through you with the force of a raging tempest. 

You loose a breathy gasp and for a moment you exist somewhere outside of yourself. You hear Eris’ voice, a warm, low timbre as he utters your name. He offers you his arm as you descend from your spot on the onyx dias. The sound of your slippers echo in the silent chamber. Eris’s face is set in a painfully neutral expression and you try your hardest to mirror it. Hoping he will not see the storm raging inside of you. You think of Nesta and the way she moves with such thoughtful grace and so you copy it; your chin tilted high and each step becomes a glide as you reach the edge of the marble dance floor. 

The eyes of the courtiers fall onto you. 

You feel the heat of Eris stare as it burns into the side of your face-- you feel a pair of violet eyes on you too. A cold chill spreads through you when his talons scrape dangerously and then you see him in your mind's eye. What a dangerous turn of events. 

Dangerous? You had never considered yourself as something dangerous. 

Nesta might have seduced Eris, but you will bring him to his knees. Rhysand’s cold tenor rattles around your mind and for a moment you see him standing at the precipice of a cliff as the storm rolls in, and the jagged rocks below look like the opening of a Helmouth. 

There is no doubt that Nesta is more beautiful. With a feline sort of beauty; long legs and a graceful neck, all angular and steely eyed. Nesta had inherited the aristocratic sort of beauty that your mother possessed. You had always been half-wild, unapproachable and--

Well, it is your mother’s voice that resounds in your head, of two sisters one is always the dancer and one the watcher. 

Tonight the roles reverse as you take your place in the middle of the dance floor. You will bring him to his knees. 

You catch Azriel’s eye as the instrumental music fades into momentary silence. From his spot on the dias he looks like a dark God; and he looks like he might just tear Eris to blood ribbons when his hand wraps around your waist. 

Eris brings you so close to him that you're pressed against him and as the harp begins to play, high and sweet, he smiles softly at you. As if the notes of music wrap around you, you raise your palm to his flat and open, an invitation if he has even seen one. 

The low stringed instruments usher in the music like a coming storm, a summons to the dance in a rushing of music, like water. You remind yourself to smile wickedly at Eris as he slides a broad hand over the curves and divots of your waist and hips. You lift your head high and, looking up into his perfect face you bare your teeth to him. All ruby red lips and pearls and he smiles so wickedly that you’re not sure who is supposed to be seducing who. 

Those strange amber eyes-- so haunting in the faelight. 

The harps and lyres sing so beautifully in the air and when the violins begin to play, it feels like a siren song in the air. A beckoning. As your body moves with the ebb and flow of the dancing tide. 

Eris leads you into the waltz, he moves with practiced ease. He knows every note, every trough and swell of the music, each nuance and note. 

Nesta would outdance you everytime. This you know. She moves like the music becomes her. And in so many ways it does. Her body bends to the will of the orchestral sound, and it bends to her too. 

So you will have to play it differently. 

The music sweeps you up in it’s tide, and as the music swells you decide to surrender yourself to the water. Let it wash all over you. Your body, once rigid and taut, goes pliant in Eris’ arms. You let the orchestral sound drown out your doubts and give yourself over to it. To him. His fingers ghost the line of your spine and he pushes you further still, against him. So close that you feel your heartbeat in tandem and your body bends to his will. 

It is easier to bend than to break. 

Better to relinquish control than have it taken from you. 

Eris’ eyes widen and soften then-- as if he feels it too-- you feel his hands loosen before tightening again around you. Somehow different now. Somehow, strangely, comforting. 

He moves with such grace and skill, his body reacts to every fluttering note and pause in the music. And the whole time his eyes are on you. And you can’t look away. The dark, warm depths of his eyes like a slow-burning fire that consumes all in its wake. 

You find the faces of your family in the crowd and you see that their normally composed demeanor seems to have shifted, their eyes wide and jaws slack as you move with the tide. 

Tonight you are the storm and the fire will bend to you. 

You will bring him to his knees, you think. As the music washes over you. 

Has there ever been such a haunting and mournful sound in all the world? Your name falling from Eris’mouth perhaps.

The snippets of the music Nesta had described to you, from her memory of the Veritas, paled in comparison. It flows and swims around you, filling you like water, and if you let it, it could be enough to drown you. To sink into the depths of the high-arching song. 

Eris smiles again when you fall into step with him so effortlessly, like you are an extension of him. 

One soul in two bodies.

His broad hand tightens over the flare of your hip, his fingers flexing before digging into the malleable flesh. The smile you give him feels much too vulnerable and genuine to bring you any sort of comfort. 

Eris' amber eyes shine with feral delight and you see yourself reflected in his eyes; you look like sin personified. The dark material of your dress gathers about your waist, held in place only by velvet ribbon and a few embroidered onyx crystals. The deep cut of the dress is so low that it bares the ample curve of your breasts and your strain to catch your breath because of how tight the dress has been laced. 

The person you see in Eris’eyes looks like the incarnation of some ancient deity; dark and cold, and cruel. And beautiful. 

Eris’ broad hand spreads across the middle of your back, pressed firm between your shoulder blades and you burn beneath him. As the music lulls and flutters his gaze locks onto yours and flame simmers in those dark topaz eyes and a smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth. Cat-like and feral as he dips you low, supporting your weight in his arms. His face comes to hover over yours and you’re transfixed by his unyielding stare. 

Beautiful and haunting eyes.

One hand is wrapped around his neck and the other you bring to touch his cheek with the tenderness of someone who has never truly been touched. His face falters and something akin to raw vulnerability flashes in his eyes. 

Bring him to his knees.

In one swift movement Eris sweeps you so that you are standing upright, pressed so close to his chest that you feel each groove and divot of his sculpted chest. You place that same hand over his blazing heart and as the music filters into stunned silence, Eris eyes you with feral delight. 

For a moment, as the heaving in your chest subsides you allow yourself to remain in his tender grasp. His fingers ghosting the curve of you hip and the small of your back, rubbing slow, deliberate circles into the skin there. 

The faces of the courtiers turn upon you. 

You, this once-human female, barely out of girlhood, who had been thrust into this world of dark power and politics. 

Who stood before them now, coloured in the murky green hues of Hewn City. 

Storm-streaked girl. 

It is like being born again and the mountain trembles in your wake. 

The eyes of your High Lord and Lady land on you and Eris at the foot of the dias. Rhysand rises in his seat and his violet eyes meet yours and something wicked and enchanting flashes in them. Feyre regards you with a wild smile and she laughs before tipping her head to you in acknowledgement. 

And in a show of secret defiance you plunge into the deepest curtsey you can manage; your chest still rising and falling with a dramatic flare, and your skirts pool around you like inky shadows as you sink low onto the marble. You dip your chin ever so slightly, never quite breaking eye contact with the cruel violet gaze that assesses you with a dangerous glint. 

A laugh of dark joy bursts from Eris beside you who in turn, offers his own small bow before capturing you again in his firm hold as the orchestra begins to play again. 

Your mother had always wanted a Prince for Nesta, and yet, here you were-- beautiful, cruel and merciless, with the Autumn Prince sinking into the cold depths of your eyes. 

Everyone who has ever loved you has underestimated you. But looking into Eris’ eyes you see something kindred to you. 

You will bring them all to their knees. 

Eris' amber eyes gleam with want as he takes you in again and you loose a shaky breath as he leads you into the next dance. 

The music is soft and light, the strings sing a song so aching and mournful that you feel once again overcome with it. All of your violent coldness, all that biting fury, rendered a useless ruse as the music becomes you. 

Eris might be the monster they all say he is, but looking at him now, in the soft light, you see something else. 

“Trust Rhysand to keep such a beautiful creature to himself.” Eris’ amber eyes study you carefully. 

You school your face to remain neutral, with just a touch of scorn as you bite back. 

“If beauty is all you can see, My Lord” You say, your voice dark and taunting, “I fear you have missed the point entirely.” 

“Intelligent too,” Eris chuckles darkly and wraps a wisp of your unbound hair around his forefinger, “and dangerous.”

You don’t deign to reply though Eris continues his assessment of you, his eyes trailing over you, afire with dark promise. 

“I’ve seen you before though,” Eris asks as he steps into the next part of the song, “haven’t I?”

His eyes narrow on you and you think back to the last time you saw Eris Vanserra. 

“At the High Lords meeting,” You say quietly, your voice thick with shame as you recall the meeting some months back. 

You had been little more than a wraith then, when the dreams of drowning in that cauldron plagued you nightly, a girl gulping on a woman’s grief. Now those dreams only come with the coming of a storm. A warning or some ill-fated omen.

“The time since the way has changed you.” It is not a question but a statement. 

You don’t smile at him like you should. Instead you meet Eris’ burning stare with a measured look of your own, “For the better, I hope?”

Eris thinks for a moment, as if looking for the right words to express his meaning. 

“You are a Goddess.” he says slyly gesturing to the dress as the skirts brush against him, baring the slit in the thigh to him. 

“Then kneel to me.” You say, not missing a beat as Eris laughs wickedly and brings his mouth to hover over the shell of your ear. 

“It seems you came to play the game tonight, afterall.” Eris says, his voice a low murmur in your ear. 

He spins you again, quick and violent before you crash back into him again, “don’t believe the lies they tell you about me.” 

“But I should believe you?” You ask, arching a brow to the cruel prince. 

“You shouldn’t believe anyone here, Little fox.” Eris tips his head towards the dias where Mor watches the pair of you from her spot besides the High Lord and Lady. 

“The Morrigan knows the truth,” Eris insists, “though she has never revealed it.” 

“Why?” You ask curiously. 

“Because she is afraid of it.” Eris’ voice is tempered and quiet and he casts the Inner Circle a look of his own, “they all are.” 

Your mouth twitches with the ghost of a smirk as you press yourself further into him, “You don’t do yourself any favors with this mask you wear.”

“Don’t I? I’ve managed to ally myself to this court, under constant threat of being discovered by my father-- do you have any idea what he’d do to me if he found out, Little fox?” Eris asks, the fire within him lighting and flickering in his amber eyes. “I ally myself with this court, I offer aid when I can, I placate Rhysand with ceremonies and shows of deference. Why do you think that is?”

Eris dips you again and the fan on his unbound hair brushes against your bare shoulders. 

“Because there’s something in it for you.” It isn’t a matter of question. You know it to be true and you see it in the way that Eris regards you with a mixture of fondness and caution. 

“Because there is something in it for me,” Eris confirms, “and tell me, what is in it for me?”

“What is it that you want, My Lord?” You ask, fluttering dark lashes at him and the music swells. 

“What is Rhysand offering?” Eris counters and leads you further into the center of the floor. 

“Nothing that I have the power to grant you.”

Eris laughs, the sound like silk on your skin and you shiver as he brings his lips to graze your ear, “I very much doubt that, Little fox?”

You swallow thickly and a surge of dark power pricks at your skin. You let him see it; all that cold rage, and the violence of the sea. 

Eris' face twists but not from fear and a strange look of reverence shines in his eyes. 

The waltz comes to a close and as the music fades into the chatter of the courtiers he whispers into your ear once more. 

“They say your sister Elain is the beauty, but you are something else entirely.” His breath is hot and sacred on your neck, and a broad hand strokes the bare skin of your back and you find yourself arching into him. 

Eris takes a step back from you, holding your hand above your head and turning you slowly as his eyes roam the curves and contours of your body, “You are wasted in the Night Court,” 

“Truly wasted.” His voice is a low whistle as you stop in front of him now. 

“And where might I be used more effectively, My Lord?” 

Eris chuckles again but before he can answer--

“Get your hands off her, Eris.” Azriel’s voice is like cold death that cuts through the spell that Eris has you under. His wrath comes off him in waves that crash against you, halting your movements. 

The dancing sea around you seems to cease to move as Eris and Azriel lock eyes. 

Eris straightens his back and he closes his hand over yours-- gently, almost protectively-- and he locks his eyes onto Azriel. 

Hazel and amber meet and shadow and light seem to dance in the air. The courtiers wait with baited breath. 

“I don’t take orders from the likes of you, Shadowsinger.” 

You stifle a snarl as you look at Azriel. Who does he think he is? He has no claim over you. He had made that much clear when you started this thing. A means to an end. A placeholder for another sister. 

“Am I to understand that you’d like to dance, Azriel?” You ask cooly, trying not to let your violet rage show in the darkness of your eyes. 

“Yes.” His voice is insistent and thick with jealousy and the promise of violence. 

Before you can pull yourself from Eris’ protective grip, Azriel is tugging on your wrist and bringing you into his side. 

Eris bares his teeth to Azriel and fire dances in those strange amber eyes. “Go sit at your master’s feet, dog.” 

Azriel laughs darkly and his shadows become a violent wisp of dark that wraps itself around you in a possessive manner. 

You swallow down the shame that you feel when Eris looks at you -- like all the power you had just moments ago has been ripped away from you, and now you are just another piece on the board to be bought and sold as your High Lord saw fit. 

A pretty whore, painted like some dark Goddess.

You band an arm across Azriel’s chest as he lunges forward in a flurry of movement. 

“It’s alright,” you offer Eris an apologetic smile, “I’ve taken too much of your time already.” You say diplomatically, taking Azriel’s hand in your own and pulling away from Eris.

Feyre and Rhysand had given up one of Nesta’s Made daggers in the name of Eris’ continued alliance, surely, one interrupted dance will not jeopardize it. 

Eris offers you a taut smile and he bows his head to you, “Very well then, we’ll play later, Little Fox.” 

Eris doesn’t so much as acknowledge Azriel as he ventures towards the dias again. 

Azriel holds you in place, one hand wrapped around your shoulders and he searches you as if looking for signs of injury. His touch is cold and biting. 

“Happy now?” you roll your eyes at him. 

Azriel stares coldly at you, his face set like stone, as if carved into the dark stone of the mountain, “not in the slightest.” 

You glance hesitantly over his shoulder and see Rhysand and Feyre each sharing a look of subtle fury. Azriel will no doubt be on the receiving end of a mental lashing. If Azriel has cost them this alliance it comes down on you too-

“He touched you and I-,” Azriel’s voice is weighted and serious at the same time you speak out. 

“Whatever has passed between us,” you say gesturing between you and him, “it has to end, Azriel.”

If Azriel felt anything at all but cold indifference his face does not show it. 

“Because of Eris?” Azriel asks incredulously, his tone full of venom.

“No, of course not,” You say truthfully, “because we are fools to think this will ever be enough.” 

A beat of silence lingers in the air between you.

“For either of us.” 

Azriel takes a moment to think about it and you see the recognition flash in his darkening hazel eyes, he looks over his shoulder in Elain’s direction. Carefully, measured, he looks at you again. 

“You want Elain.” You say matter of factly, even with a hint of sadness, “don’t deny it-- and I…” your voice trails into nothing. An errant whisper of power. 

“And what do you want?” Azriel asks, his voice once dark and cruel is something akin to familial. 

“I’m not sure yet.” you say thoughtfully, looking back to the dias where everyone regards you and Azriel warily. 

Azriel softens and he lets go of your arms and hides his scarred fingertips in the pockets of his dark colored tunic. He runs a hand over his face in regret and looses a shaky breath before laughing again. 

“Rhys is going to fucking slaughter me.” Azriel says and you laugh quietly, muttering in agreement as you link arms with his and lead him through the dancing sea of courtiers to the wine table. 

Azriel takes a goblet in each hand and offers one to you. The wine is dark and red and stains your lips like blood. The taste is woody and spiced, it tastes a little like Autumn. Azriel leans into the onyx pillar and angles himself away from the prying eyes of the courtiers as they dance. 

You’re at his side and move so that his body obstructs the view of Rhysand and Feyre, shunning their ire. 

“How pissed do you think they’ll be?” You ask grimly. 

“With you?” Azriel asks, cocking a brow in confusion. You only nod and wait for him to continue. Azriel swallows a large mouthful of wine, wiping his mouth with the back of a scarred hand “not at all, you did them a favor-- practically had Eris on his knees.” 

“Good.” You meet his eyes and for the first time tonight you feel as though you might just have something to offer. 

“Be careful with Eris,” Azriel says gently, his hand on your arm, “not everything he says is to be trusted.” 

“But I can trust you?” You ask, thinking back to what Eris had said earlier in the evening.

“Always.” Azriel says.

The orchestral music comes to a dramatic close and you see Nesta and Cassian dancing happily in the crowds. Elain remains on the dias and you catch her eyes as she watches you and Azriel with careful, wide eyes. 

“Come on, Shadowsinger,” You say defiantly, pushing yourself from the onyx pillar, “time to face the High Lord.” 

Azreil huffs indignantly and pushes away from the pillar, abandoning his goblet and stalking his way to Elain’s side on the dias. She smiles softly at him and you see some of the tension in Azriel’s shoulders dissolve into nothing but a contented ease. 

You approach the dias with a quiet reproach and as you meet Feyre’s eyes she croons at you, her smile is once of a brilliant radiant light that spills from her. A stark contrast to the cold darkness that you carry so well. 

Eris' voice is dark and serious as you approach The High Lord, his jaw tightens when Rhysand regards him with a cool violet gaze. 

“I have my reasons.” 

You’re not entirely sure what they’re talking about and when you take your place next to Feyre she places a hand on your arm in comfort. Though it does nothing to settle the acid churning in your stomach nor the storm that is raging inside of you. 

“Care to share those reasons with us?” Rhysand asks, picking at an errant thread on his beautiful dark tunic. 

For a moment his eyes glaze over, muted violet as he speaks mind to mind with the Autumn Prince.

Rhysand’s lips twitch lightly and you can see that whatever words passed between him and Eris has pleased him greatly-- at least given him the upper hand so that he doesn’t feel threatened but Eris’ commanding presence. 

Eris steps forwards again and adds, “Bestides, it is a bonus of course, that in doing so, I would be getting what has been owed to me even since my betrothal to Morrigan.” 

Rhysand studies Eris and then casts a fleeting glance along the line to you, standing dutifully at Feyre’s side. 

Like the docile, and obedient sister he wants you to be. 

A conduit of his dark power. A piece to be played in this game of power and politics. 

“Anything I want-- anything at all, whether it be armies from the Autumn Court or your firstborn, you would grant me it all in exchange for the Archeron girl as your wife?”

Azriel, still somewhat territorial, lets loose a low growl that rumbles like thunder through the air. 

Eris doesn’t deign to even look in his direction-- instead those haunting amber eyes linger on you. His eyes are soft and dark, burning into yours, and you find yourself caught in the unyielding, all consuming fire that is Eris Vanserra. 

Eris turns back to Rhysand. “Not as far as my heir, but yes, Rhysand. You want armies against the human queen? You’ll have them, and anything else you might ask of me.” 

“Just for her?” Azriel’s voice is cutting and suspicious as he hones in on Eris Vanserra. 

“The girl, and, when the time comes, you’ll aid me in seizing the Autumn Throne from my father.” Eris adds, his eyes shine with that slow-burning fire, “and then you’ll have all the armies you desire.”

Rhysand and Feyre share a look of pure delight, irreverent to anyone else but you see it for what it is. Feral delight at their victory. 

“I couldn’t very well let my wife’s sister go into battle unaided, could I?” 

I said bring him to his knees, darling. What dark magic is this? What have you done to him? Rhysand’s voice is like night-kissed air in your mind. 

Feyre’s laugh rings through you like birdsong and you can’t help the satisfied smirk that curls onto your lips.

You’re about to speak when you catch Eris’ eyes; those strange amber eyes. And then you feel it. 

A bond that grows taut and reverberates through the hall, like a ripple of power and a golden thread bridges the distance between your body and his. 

“Mate?” Eris’ voice strains with the weight of it, and you feel like light goes all through you, as though you are little more than a shadow or a memory as you allow yourself to sink into the dark waters that live within your mind's eye. “My mate.”

Your name breaks apart in his mouth and in a flash of violet and murky blue you’re greeted by the storm as it breaks over Velaris. On the horizon, dark and ominous as it approaches. You reach the balcony and wade out into the violent night, waiting for the storm to stake its claim to you. 

You were born on a night like this, you tell yourself. Like the Gods of old; born from the storms and the seas, to withstand the hardships of this world. To be cruel and merciless and beautiful. 

You whisper it, until you feel that bond in your chest grow taut, strained with the distance between you. And as Eris’ emotions run like water into you, for the first time in a long time you allow yourself to feel. 

To yield to the storm as it breaks against you with all the force of a great tempest.

#eris x reader #eris x you #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris fic #eris headcanons #pro eris vanserra #eris vandaddy #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar smut #acotar fanfic #azriel x you #azriel x reader

[stepbrorafe]

Movie Night - RC

summary : a sleepover w stepbro rafe takes a turn

warnings : swearing, stepcest, somnophilia(dubcon?), fingering, oral, idk idk

a/n : my first lil fic type deal on this acc :) feel free to send in reqs or comment opinions or just talk to me <3

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

“What?” Rafe’s deep voice called out from the other side of the door.

You slowly twist the knob, pushing the door open, eyes instantly meeting his bare back as he leaned over his bed.

“I said ‘what’, I didn’t say come-“ He starts, cutting himself off as he turns to you.

You sheepishly smile, “Sorry, I was just wondering if you wanted to maybe have a movie night?”

His eyebrows furrowed together, confusion plastering itself across his face. Your smile slightly falters as he doesn’t respond for a moment.

“Where’s Sarah and Wheezie?” He questions, as they’re who you usually hang out with.

“Wheezie’s sleeping, Sarah’s where she always sneaks off to anymore.” You mumble, “Just figured maybe me and you could have a sleepover or something. It’s okay though.”

He’d be lying if he said he doesn’t want to have a movie night with you. He’d be lying if he said he doesn’t want even more than that. He absolutely loves whenever you’re around, yet he hates it at the same time.

He can’t help but drink in the way you move, the way you speak, the way you seem so innocent yet so naughty. In all honesty, his believing you have a naughty side is purely delusional. You’ve done nothing of the sort to incline you’re anything but innocent. Maybe that’s what it is though. Maybe he just wants to prove that you can be a slut. A slut for him.

Just as you’re turning around to leave, his voice stops you, “What are we watching?”

Your lips twist up in a smile, one that he has to purse his lips from mirroring. You close the door, sauntering over to his bed in your short little bottoms and thin tank top.

“We can watch whatever.” You say, crawling into his bed.

His eyes bore into the way you make yourself comfortable on his blankets, your smooth legs crossing along his bed. He swallows the accumulating saliva, flicking the light off and joining you.

He grabs the remote from his nightstand, passing it to you to choose a movie, stating, “Anything but a chick flick.”

The giggle falls from your lips so effortlessly, causing him to clear his throat and avert his eyes from you.

The night progresses with several movies before you find yourself sound asleep beside Rafe. He isn’t so lucky as sleep refuses to wash over him.

Instead, he’s left staring at you while you snooze. Your cheeks are slightly squished, causing your lips to form into a pout. Your long lashes rest on your cheeks, casting shadows along your skin. Your hair falls into your face, and he can’t help but brush it behind your ear, letting his fingers linger momentarily.

His eyes lower, taking in the way your cleavage is on show as your tank top is bunched below your tits. Your collarbones so prominent, the soft moonlight, shining through from the window, hitting them with a cool glow.

His gaze continues down your body, boring into the skin of your stomach showing as your shirt rides up. It also reveals the waistband of your small shorts. The shorts that barely cover the curve of your ass. In fact, he can see it clear as day. His eyes rake down the rest of you, soaking in the way your plump thighs damn near swallow your bottoms. Your smooth legs resting atop of one another, begging to be spread.

He can’t help the growing of his cock, now straining against his boxers, aching to be released. He lets out a breath, his eyes closing as he revels in the dirty fantasies he’s having.

He so badly wants to pull your legs apart and kiss you through the fabric of your shorts. He wants to squeeze your tits as he buries himself in you, swallowing all the pretty little sounds you make.

He lets out a hiss as his hand rests on his covered cock, adding just the slightest bit of pressure, seeking relief.

Before he can stop himself, he’s scooting closer to you. His arm wraps around your waist, pulling you back into him. He has to hold back a groan as your ass presses into his bulge.

Completely oblivious the state he’s in, you push back ever further, enjoying the cuddles from your stepbrother.

His hand slides down to your exposed stomach, rubbing small patterns into the skin, taking notice in the way goosebumps form beneath his touch. He can’t help but smirk at that.

You let out a soft hum, still in a deep unconscious state. His hand slowly trails higher, traveling up your torso. His hand halts when he feels your boob. You’re not wearing a bra.

He almost groans at the thought, convincing himself that you did it on purpose. That you want him to touch you. And so he does.

His hand fully engulfs your bare tit, squeezing it so firmly. You stir in your sleep, rolling onto your back. His eyes glimmer at the access you’re unknowingly giving him.

He pinches your hard nipple before removing his hand, and sliding it to the waistband of your shorts. Without hassle, his fingers poke into your bottoms, trailing further down. He tosses his head back at the notion of you not wearing any panties either. You’re practically begging to be fucked.

Taking in your sleeping figure, he lets his fingers go lower, sliding over your bare lips, groaning when he feels your arousal seeping through.

“I knew you were a slut.” He mumbles into your shoulder.

His fingers prod at your slit, pushing your lips open as he rubs you up and down. You let out a small, almost inaudible, moan from the feeling.

Rafe licks his lips, slowly circling your clit with two fingers. He can feel your body slightly tremble against him. Without a second thought, his fingers slide down to your entrance, pushing into you.

The action makes your body jump, instantly pulling you from your dreamy state. Your eyes flutter a few times, taking in what’s happening. Your heart rate picks up and your eyes widen, acknowledging the fact that your stepbrother has his fingers slowly pumping in and out of you.

“Rafe!” You gasp, attempting to push his hand away.

“Shh, you’re okay.” He whispers into your ear, his opposite hand holding you in place.

“W-what are you doing?” You panic, your body tensing as he continues to fuck his digits into you.

“Isn’t it obvious?” He quips, curling his fingers into your spongy walls.

It pulls a moan from you, one that you try to hide away as your cheeks burn bright with embarrassment.

You shake your head, “Stop. This is wrong, you’re my brother.”

“Stepbrother.” He corrects through gritted teeth.

His pace speeds up, the squelching sound filling in the room. Your brows knit together as you bite back your moans, the feeling being all too pleasurable.

“Do you really want me to stop?” He breathes against you. “Just tell me to stop and I will.”

Your mind races with a million thoughts a second, yet you feel blank at the same time. There’s no denying how good you feel right now, and how attracted you’ve felt towards Rafe. You always swallowed those feelings down, knowing it’s not right. But right here, right now, you don’t seem to care about anything else other than the feeling of his fingers working you.

“No, no.” You moan, your back arching. “Please don’t stop.”

He smirks, “That’s my girl.”

Next thing you know, he’s in between your legs, tongue lapping at your wetness as his fingers thrust in and out of you. Your hands tangle in his hair, tugging at the strands as you buck your hips into his face while soft moans fall from your lips. You can practically feel his smirk as he pulls you closer.

“Taste so good, sound so pretty.” He coos, sucking up your juices. “Always knew you’d be a mess for me.”

You whine at his words, feeling your orgasm sneaking up on you. It doesn’t take long. His lips puckering around your clit and sucking harshly brings you over the edge. The guilt you have for letting him touch you dissipates as euphoria floods your veins. Your body convulses, legs shaking as you let go. He moans against your pussy, devouring everything you have to give him.

You’re left panting, coming down from the delicious high he gave you. He sits up, licking your remaining arousal from his lips. Scooting back up next to you, he pulls you into him once more, burying his face in your hair.

“What are you doing?” You whisper, still breathless.

“Thought you wanted to have a sleepover.” He mumbles, leaving you in a state of shock at what just took place.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

tags : @sunkissedrafe @wickedtactics @bunnycvnts @butterflyoceandreams

#dark obx #obx s2 #obx s3 #obx smut #outer banks #rafe cameron #step bro #step bro rafe #obx imagine #obx x reader #rafe fics #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe smut #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe #stepbrorafe #j speaks #rafe cameron x you #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #imagine #requests #stepcest

[jinwoosungs]

{ 110 }

breathe your name.

mike schmidt x fem.reader

drabble.

{ but you're in my heart, i can feel your beat. | and you move my mind from behind the wheel | when i lose control | i can only breathe your name. | i can only breathe your name. }

mike could feel the bags under his eyes getting darker, becoming more prominent as he felt his eyelids become heavier on the way home.

in so many ways, he was grateful that he had someone like you by his side.

someone who made him feel like he was worth something.

someone who gave him that unconditional type of love.

someone who stuck by him despite all the darkness and loss he dealt with in his life.

mike had no idea what he did to deserve you, but he counted you as a blessing, one that he would never take for granted.

despite the exhaustion he felt, coming home from his shift at freddy's, memories of you were what kept him awake.

the sensation of your hands and how soft they felt when he first held it,

the taste of your kiss against his lips, becoming stained with cherry lipgloss as he gave you a lopsided grin the moment you pulled away,

the look of pure joy on your face the moment he first told you he loved you,

and how much abby adores you, often depicting variations of you and him in all of her drawings.

you were a beacon to him; a light that shines so brightly, casting all of the shadows away from his heart.

and he was finally coming home to you.

the moment he sees his home, mike lets out a sigh of relief. he parks his car haphazardly, not caring if it wasn't aligned correctly in the slightest. he grunts, taking his keys out of the ignition while shrugging out of his vest, tossing it in the backseat.

running a hand across his curls, he gets out of his car and takes eager steps to his house. unlocking the door, mike makes sure that his movements were quiet as he closes it. the sounds of crickets chirping were all that were heard as he made his way towards his bedroom, and he was filled with a sense of peace.

before entering his room, he lingers outside abby's room for a moment, leaning in close to listen for any potential signs of distress. yet when all he heard were the gentle sounds of her breathing, he smiles and continues making his way towards his room.

with bated breath, he opens the door, feeling his heart race upon seeing your peaceful form sleeping on the bed. your hair was splayed out on the pillows, with you sleeping on your right. as if waiting for his arrival, mike realized that you slept on one side of the bed, making sure he had room to sleep on.

you always told him how much you hated how you looked when you were asleep and when you first wake up in the morning-

but mike never saw your imperfections at all. in fact, he thought that you were the most beautiful woman he ever had the pleasure of waking up next to.

all too eager to fall asleep with you in his arms, he takes off his shoes and pants, leaving him in his boxers as he carefully crawls into the bed with you. the comforting scent of your shampoo is what first hits his senses, immediately sending him into a calm and sleepy state.

not wasting another second, mike begins to wrap his arms around your front, gently pulling your form towards him. tracing the tip of his nose behind the nape of your neck, he places a gentle kiss behind it while pulling you closer until your back met with his chest. he could feel the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you slept, and it was only then, when you were close enough for his comfort, did mike finally slide his eyes shut.

basking in your warmth and the pure essence of you, he falls asleep while breathing your name.

a.n. - sleepy drabble for a sleepy boi 😴

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#mike schmidt x you #michael schmidt x you #fnaf x reader #mike schmidt x reader #michael schmidt x reader #.stories

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All the Good Girls Go To Hell 20

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, power imbalance, injury, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You come home for the summer but your break is not as relaxing as you expect.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Note: Friday! (again)

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

It takes until noon to get yourself together. The world around you feels disconnected and hazy, beyond your reach. You just want to hide from the chaos your life has become, but you know you can't do that. Bucky says as much, telling you to take it all in small steps. The first; get your car.

You slump in the passenger seat of Bucky's range rover, arms folded over your fraught stomach. Never again. It's never worth it, even if it lets you forget. You just have to remember it all the next day, all while feeling shitty as hell.

He pulls up in front of Harry's house and you slowly sit forward to look around him. You gulp and fish out your keys, the jingle making you wince. You blow out a breath and undo your seat belt.

"Should I come with you, doll?" He offers, one hand on the wheel.

You look at him. His long hair is draw back into a ponytail at the back of his head, a few strands dangle loose to his chin. His square jaw is speckled with dark stubble and few patches of silver. His steely blue eyes shine as his plain white tee and blue jeans offer a perfect canvas for his easy allure. The way he looks at you makes it hard not to notice how handsome he is.

"No, no, I'll just go get my car and follow you back to your place. Should be easy."

You pull the door handle before you can lose your nerve. You're grateful for Bucky's help but you need to do this on your own. He can't coddle you and you can't expect everything from him. You don't want to be in this situation ever again; cast out and lost.

You get out and gently shut the door. You round the front of the tall rover and push your glasses up your nose. You cross the street, tucking your hands in your pockets as you keep your shoulders curled and head down. You cross the pavement and head up the tarmac, stopping short as you catch sight of your car.

Your mouth falls open as you gape at the mess strewn across it. Shaving cream streaks the hood and roof, toilet paper draped over it in tangled strips, and eggs smashed into the worn paint. As you get closer, you notice the only blank patch is keyed with the words 'dumb bitch'. You stare stunned at the desecration of your only possession.

You shake your head and don't look up at the house. You can guess it was probably Harry and his friends. This is the type of stuff the got up to in high school and these people made it clear that you're an outsider. 

You near the car and grab a few strips of toilet paper, pulling them off and wadding them up as you try to wipe off the yolk and half-melted cream. Some of it's caked on after sitting for at least half the night. You sigh and focus on just tearing the tissue off. You can hit a car wash but you don't know what you'll do about the scratches.

As you scrape off what you can, you hear a door and sense a shadow. Harry's laughter rattles in the afternoon sun and you ignore him as you toss clumps of cream and toilet paper onto the ground. You unlock the door and he catches it from the outside, holding it in place.

"Do you get the hint now?" He asks darkly.

"Leave me alone," you tug on the door and it doesn't budge.

"Naomi is better than you. You're just some stupid nerd who doesn't know her place. The only reason Peter was interested is because he wants to make MJ jealous--"

"I don't care--"

"You're too boring for her," he sneers, "so better go off back to your corner and cry, little girl."

"Frig off," you spit at him, "and let go!"

You try to jerk the door away and he just snickers again. You bear your teeth in frustration and roll your eyes. If he wants you gone, why won't he let you go?

"She helped. The eggs were her idea," he taunts. You don't care if she did or not, her loyalties are clear enough. You saw them last night.

"Hey," Bucky's voice rips through your standoff and you turn as he storms up the driveway. "Back up, jackass."

"Jesus Christ, not this geezer," Harry snarls.

"Yes, this geezer," Bucky barks, "go inside before I show you what an old man can do."

"Whatever, bro."

"Whatever," Bucky stomps past you and stops only inches from Harry, looming over him, "I'm up for whatever you choose, boy."

Harry huffs and curls his lip. He raises his hands and takes a step back, "you're not worth the trouble."

"Sure," Bucky keeps his shoulder in front of you, blocking you in, "go on and run back to your posse of dumbasses."

Harry waves him off and turns on his heel, slides flopping under him as he tramps like a toddler back to the house. You shudder and look at Bucky as he turns to you. He rests his hand on the top of the door.

"You alright, doll?" He softens his tone.

"Yeah, fine, he's just dumb."

"Mm," he looks past you, "assholes. Let's get this thing cleaned up and--" He pauses and shifts away, bending to examine the message etched into the paint, "hmmmmm," he growls, "good thing I know how to buff this stuff out." He stands straight, hands on his hips, his pose accentuating his chest and biceps, "you want me to drive this thing till we get it washed or--"

"No, no, it's okay," you murmur, "I just wanna get out off here."

"Sure thing," he tries to smile but his cheek ticks as his eyes drift angrily to the house, "don't let appearances fool you, there people are trash."

🌞

When you get back to Bucky's, he unfolds a lawn chair and points you to it. There's little argument to be had as his anger has you tongue-tied. You know it's not directed at you but you can feel it steaming off of him. You've never been good at handling that sort of emotion, especially from others.

It's probably for the better. Your head is pounding, even in the shadow of the awning, and you stomach is still wobbly with uncertainty. You rest your chin in your hand as you watch him spraying your car with the nozzle of the hose. As he does, the splash back dampens the front of his tee, the fabric clinging to his stomach as he sneers at his task.

He shut the hose off and grabs the sponge from the bucket, scrubbing at the harder to get patches until has has it mostly clean. He gives it another rinse with hose and rolls it up, dumping the bucket in the grass and dropping the sponge inside. He puts the pail down and sits on the steps, only a foot away from you. 

"Sure made a mess of myself," he looks down at his wet shirt, wiping his hands on it before tugging it upwards. He strips it off and shakes it out as you avert your wiley gaze. "I'll buff the side later and it should be fine. Probably have to find somewhere to fix the paint properly, though."

"Thanks, uh, you've really done... enough."

"Shitty," he mutters clutching the shirt in his hand. As he leans an elbow on his knee, your eyes stray to the trim of hair across his broad chest. You hide your wandering gaze and focus on your hands, "I'm sorry she dragged you into all this. Really... and I know I've probably not made it any easier."

"I guess I'm just confused. I don't know what to do with myself. I guess I should keep looking for a job but at this rate, I won't have one until I have to head back to campus. If I even get to go." You exhale shakily, "my parents split tuition but if my mom cuts me off... I don't know what to do."

He nods and gives a thoughtful hum. He sits back and props his elbow on the step behind him, his muscled stomach tugging at your gaze. No, stop.

"I never had kids. Obviously. Always knew I couldn't give them everything I would want to, you know? But if I did, I'd give them everything I could. I just don't get it. I really don't, you're a good girl and they just don't see what's right in front of them," he sucks his teeth, "well, how about..." he stops himself and lets his leg sway one way then the other, "I could offer you a job. You could do some work around the shop. Sweeping up sawdust and stuff but the pay is good."

You nod and chew your lip. It's a nice idea. More than you deserve.

"What... what about..."

"Steve? You let me handle him. Really, he's just a dumbass. Gets carried away. Besides, sounds like he has his hands full with your mom and his wife," he scoffs, "you'll be working with me, not him."

You wiggle your foot, "I don't know..."

"It's your choice but it'll keep you busy and it could help with money problems," he puts his hand flat, "all you have to do is say yes. Oh, and obviously, whatever you decide, you got a place to stay."

You glance up at the house and frown, "I don't... what about Naomi?"

"What about her? If she comes back, same thing for her. She has a room here. I made promises and I don't break those. However she feels about me, I wasn't the one who hit the self-destruct button."

You drop your head, holding it tight as it feels ready to splinter. It's not just your hangover, it's everything else. You squeak and rub your temples with your thumbs.

"You okay?" Bucky leans forward and touches your elbow.

You lift your head gently, "yeah. I just feel awful. That I ever thought you were... bad. After everything, you won't even turn her away."

"She's lost. She's careless but she's young. I only ever wanted to help her, I was just selfish about how," he shrugs and retracts his hand, "but anyway," he stands and touches his lower back, "I think you should go inside, chill out on the couch, and watch some Netflix. I'll get you something nice and greasy to eat for that hangover."

You whimper and give a pathetic smile, "I'm sorry about that," you stand with some effort, "I don't usually drink like that--"

He laughs, "don't apologise," he waves you up the steps ahead of him, "I'm going to start being honest with you so I do need to tell you that it was really cute."

You giggle and shake your head as you reach for the front door. He's fast and extends his arm past you, opening it around you, close, so close you can feel the heat roiling off of him.

"No, it wasn't," you insist.

"It really was," he snorts as he follows you inside, "you get this pout and it's just..." he's quiet as you slip your shoes off, a lull as he weighs his words, "gorgeous."

You chuckle nervously and rub your neck. He clears his throat and toes off his sneakers. He moves around you cautiously, as if fighting not to get any closer.

"I'll go grab my phone and we'll figure out what to order," he mutters, his tone uneven, "you just make yourself at home."

🌞

You feel a bit more stable once you have a good meal in your stomach. Good being a relative term. The greasy cheeseburger and onions rings are hardly nutritious but they are satisfying. 

You slurp on your diet coke as you lay with your head up against the armrest and lose yourself in the shallow drama of the reality show personalities. An argument about a dress really is compelling theatre. You put the cup down and hug the cushion to your chest, laughing as a woman storms out, tossing her wine in the process. Wow, and you thought your life was ridiculous.

You yawn and close your eyes. It's getting late. You should probably go to the guest room and try to sleep off the last of your alcoholic regret. 

The end of the couch dips and your eyes snap open. Bucky sits just below your feet, tilting his head at the screen. He arches his brow as his eyes search the television. His mouth slants as he looks at you.

"So, why are these women screaming at each other?" He asks.

"Oh, uh, you can change it," you go to sit up but he firmly puts his hand on your ankle.

"No, I'm curious. Genuinely."

"Really, it's just a stupid show--"

"I want to know," he smiles and glances back at the TV, "they are really angry."

"Well, the blonde one borrowed a dress from the brunette and never gave it back but the blonde claims she did and the other woman is lying. And the other blonde is saying she saw the dress in the brunette's closet," you explain and end with a chortle, "it really is nonsense."

He keeps his hand on your ankle, his thumb rubbing through the cotton of your sock. He nods and squints, "the brunette is lying."

"Hmm? How do you know?"

"You can tell," he points with his other hand, his other slipping down your foot. "She keeps looking left."

"Oh?" You look between him and the television, overly aware of his hand. He pushes his thumb into your sole and you groan at the delightful pressure.

"You ticklish?" He wonders as he drags his thumb along your arch, "huh?"

"A little," you confess, "what are you--"

"Just... being nice," he grips your foot as you try to pull away once more, "just lay back. Everyone loves a good foot massage, don't they?"

"I... I wouldn't know," you push yourself up on your elbows and watch him knead your foot, barely withholding a moan. He knows what he's doing. "Never had one before."

"Really? Well, you got a lot of tension right... here," he poke his thumb into you and your squeal. It sends a zing up your leg. "See? I told you, you need to relax. I'm just helping." He grabs your ankle higher up and yanks, just hard enough to have you flat on your back, "sit back and enjoy, doll. You deserve it."

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #series #mcu #marvel #avengers #captain america #winter soldier #all the good girls go to hell

[spdrvyn]

i love my husband — miguel o'hara drabble

fluff. heavy inspo on this video.

sorry for the inactivity and the lazy ass title, exam week came around before i could even start on the next request and i did nothing but relax the entire break (which was only FOUR days) so i'll bring this out and see if i can clear my sched enough to actually do shit. enjoy!

the moonlit sky reflects beautifully onto the shining surface of your mug, filled to the brim of chamomile tea and flooding your nostrils with delight as your body melts into the couch.

work kept you on the edge of your seat for the entire week, it was non-stop meetings and non-stop emergency calls even outside of your working hours that had you so stressed. you were sure you'd picked enough hairs out to make a wig.

the weekend is truly a blessing, you want to stay as far away as humanly possible from your phone and shut yourself out from civilization before you come protector of debra's last minute files.

you missed the soft cotton of your pajamas, not like you haven't worn them in the past couple of days but to actually be able to appreciate what it means to wear them and the greeting of a good night's sleep had you sighing and moaning almost a little too much.

you worked hard, you definitely deserved this. you grab a spare pillow and tuck it under your head turning to the side and looking at the city that surrounded you, your patience and tenacity at the office has now been rewarded with the view you're able to appreciate.

however, the shadow that looms over the carpeted floors of your flat don't go away even after rubbing your eyes. you look up and a faint red glow in the symbol of a very familiar spider catches your eye immediately, you smile lazily through the glass.

miguel slides open the door with no hesitation, cape still drifting in the wind from what you can only assume to be his own previous working activities. you can sense the tension wafting off of him like waves especially as he stomps all the way over to where you are on the couch and looks down at you.

his mask isn't off, he's still fully geared, and all you can do is stare back into those lenses.

that is until he surrenders, body giving up, and his body flops right on top of yours. it doesn't really surprise you, there have been times where miguel has come home after a worse day of saving the multiverse and traps you in a hug before you can protest or move. though you've never really seen him do this before.

he adjusts his position, but still keeps his arms tightly wrapped around you as you move as well so that you're holding him back. his face is buried into the crook of your neck and the feeling of his nose tickling your skin tells you that he unmasked already.

not a single word leaves his mouth, you silently adore the way he's melted into you already, the way the muscles on his back rise only to slowly fall again.

you don't want to break the silence, neither of you do. right now, the only form of communication that matters is touch. your lips burning kisses into his curls, your nose now erasing whatever of your tea was left and making the way for miguel.

he shies away from your touch with a small groan, "i stink."

a giggle threatens to break out from the back of your throat, as many times as he would insist that you'd keep going anyway. "so when you do it, it's fine? i see how it is then."

miguel chuckles, he inches himself into you further. deeper. his breaths become less and less shallow, it's clear that he's taking his fair share of sniffs from you as well. "because you smell good."

"i ran a bath, that's why." one last peck to his head and you opt to just comb his hair instead, running your fingers through the strands and observing as they twist back to curl after brushing it some more.

both of you stay like that for a while, not saying anything, not doing anything, just being here. existing with each other. you always find moments like these beautiful, even when miguel is probably one work call away from shaking hands with the grim reaper.

in miguel, you've found yourself open to so many new experiences and risks you could've never imagined on your own. despite the many amount of times at the start of your relationship that he'd give you space and wouldn't be mad if you left, you kept still by his side anyway. you knew that he was worth it.

in you, miguel found that mundanity that he's never had his whole life. passing out on the sofa on his own never felt the same, most times he'd wake up still in his suit and would have to go to work right after anyway. yet with you, the stress ebbed away over time because he knew that you'd always be waiting for him.

whatever historians had with their relics, miguel had with you. not to keep them confined in a metal case, of course not, but he felt as if you were to be revered. kissed and touched with utmost respect and you'd bring the people their good fortunes and long lives. you certainly did for him and miguel might as well be immortal now.

his hands wander, fingertips delicately grazing over the skin tucked beneath your nightwear. he goes slowly, traveling up to your chest where he—

"miguel?"

his hands freeze, face going red. the guilt of possibly going too far is ready to break free from his heart and consume him until he can feel your body trembling with laughter.

"since you apparently stink so bad, shouldn't you shower first before getting so handsy?" miguel pouts at your comment, he already had the apologies locked and loaded for you.

"just a few more minutes, corazón."

#spiderman: across the spiderverse #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #x reader #fluff

[ssplague]

Benighted Beloved

Prologue

Dragon King Bakugou x Reader

Haven’t decided on the title yet, didn’t want to take even more time to get this out.

Warnings ⚠️ BRIEF Mentions of attempted assault, sex trafficking, & murder.

As the last of the moon’s ethereal, silver light disappears from the skies, a harsh wind begins to blow. This kingdom’s inhabitants are hidden away within the confines of their homes. The silence is daunting as the wind begins to howl through the previously bustling capital streets.

Within the dimly lit castle a woman stares through the her window before shutting the drapes tight.

The atmosphere within the fortress is riddled with tension; Murmurings of prayers can be heard from various servants pausing their duties as they move about. Her bosom heaves rapidly from panting breaths, she fights in vain. Stubborn to prevent the vision attempting to shine through, ignoring the now blurry edges of her eye sight. Ebony hair is sticking to her sweaty face, she’s only standing on shaky legs from leaning against the edge of her vanity table.The door of her bedroom swings open and immediately slams shut. A man has come to see her, he’s briskly crossing the room, before coming to a stop at her side.

“What ails you?” The tired man asks, helping the woman stand upright by allowing her to hold his arm. Continuing to assist, despite her uncoordinated shuffling to sit on her bed. “If you are to be given a prophetic message, why fight it? Her majesty wishes to know what you have seen”. The woman wraps her arms around her middle, sharp nails nicking at her flesh as she draws in a shaking breath, “This night is tainted by darkness, the goddess is unable to grant us her full protection while her light is repressed…if my body will hold out until the darkness recedes, perhaps tragedy will be prevented from falling upon our kingdom once again”. Light from the single lit candle casted half of her face in shadow. The oracle was ashen faced, her black bangs plastered against her forehead, droplets of sweat leaked down her face onto the floor as she rested her elbows on her knees, shaking hands massage her temples.

“You cannot alter fate Midnight, you are destroying yourself all for the sake of delaying a message you were chosen to deliver” Aizawa says with a heavy sigh, rubbing at his eyes “I know you continue to blame yourself for the death of King Masaru but even the queen herself told you that you were not at fault, you relayed the message, and it was something that simply couldnt be remedied..”.

A shuddering breath racks the oracle’s body and she begins falling forward, only for the exhausted man to catch her,

“Stop this! You are going to die!”.

Midnight knew she was on deaths door, her body would give out soon, unless she relents…

Once again the bedroom door opens silently, the snap of it shutting alerts the two occupants of a new comer entering the room.

“Do it for the sake of the child, if you wish to atone for the death of its father then guide it as it grows, inform the future leader on how to avoid whatever negativity may come beforehand, so that it can be properly dealt with” the stern but soft voice of Jeanist seems to have been able to break through the oracle’s stubbornness.

“Normally only one of you would need to be the scribe for this session…but I would prefer it if there were two perspectives on whatever I report, considering the situation…” requests Midnight as Aizawa allows Jeanist to help the frail woman sit up. Making one more request as the blonde man fluffs and rearranges the pillows behind her:

“Please light the ceremonial pouperie and hand me both selenite and tourmaline towers”.

At the beginning of her life Midnight had been gifted with the ability to predict small things such as who would win a foot race or what she would receive for her birthday. As a teen her visions changed into predicting who would find love and eventually how relationships would end. Life was not always kind to her, and once she reached her late teens she had been enslaved and forced into prostitution.

Luck had been on her side as an adult; One night as the ebony haired beauty made her way through town. She had come across a drunken man attempting to asssault a young woman. Her amethyst eyes catch the glint of an intact bottle neck laying discarded on the alleyway’s grime crusted cobblestones. Those muffled cries of the female being violated brought her back to when she herself had first been enslaved. Slinking up through the shadows in silence, the angry woman would later on be compared to a panther as she came flying out of the darkness. The brute didnt have a chance to fight back as loose shards of glass were shoved into his eyes, the jagged spikes of the bottle were repeatedly slashed and thrusted into his neck, face, and chest until the pig was unrecognizable.

The woman she had saved turned out to be the daughter of a duke, visiting from a completely different kingdom. “Please accompany me for my journey home, your bravery will bring you great favor with my family, im offering you a new life, a fresh start”. Once the dutches and duke had learned about the gift of sight their daughter’s savior possessed, it was only a matter of time before Midnight was called to advise the current king and queen of her new home.

The darker haired man uses the candle to light to light the bundle of herbs, the scents of sage, lavender, and jasmine fill the room quickly.

Both polished stone towers are pressed into her shaking hands, Each man stood at the oracle’s bed side with quills poised and ready. Only then does the ritual begin;

She always hated lowering the walls of protection that had been built around her psyche. It made her feel as though she were stripped naked, vunerable, about to have her dignity snatched away, and soul crushed. Of course those feeling were always what prelude a tainted and unfortunate vision. Her eyes buldge in their sockets as they widen, her plump lips fall open and an amplified emotionless version of her voice spews out the sacred information from her gaping maw.

In this realm,

a blessing descends,

a child of fate,

Whose power immense,

destined to determine

earth’s fate

Born beneath the moon's shadow,

a tale quite bizarre,

A beast hides within,

a spirit touched by mar.

Not at the outset,

but time's relentless flow,

Unveils a name in

history's annals to grow.

Victories numerous,

A heart encased in sin

With a chance encounter,

love's dance shall begin.

Strings of fate weave

a love, pure and oh so divine,

The dragon king seeking

a mate with whom his

Soul shall intertwine.

This love is true,

by impurity shunned,

Great Darkness out shone

by Celestial radiance

Who’s light could

Outshine the sun

Blessings abound

if the moon's grace prevails,

However her failure

unveils hate

as darkness assails.

The Earth shall quake in fright

silence descends in despair,

The dragon king ruthless,

his mate to ensnare.

Land soaked in blood,

tainted with gore

at that moment

T’will be decided

peace within this kingdom

will become a distant lore

Decay befalls living souls,

cursed evermore.

Oh how can one’s feelings

spin a tale so profound?

For only true love shall

Determine whether darkness

Or light shall abound?

In a wing located on the complete opposite side of the castle, a feminine shriek is permeated by the sharp wails of an infant.

“It’s a boy your majesty!” Exclaims a mid-wife who held the freshly delivered baby.

She is quick to clean off the continuously shrieking child, immediately swaddling him in a soft blanket. Queen Mitsuki held out her trembling hands to receive the bundle of joy. “He’s beautiful my lady, I’m sure the king is looking down from heaven with pride” stated one of the other servants as she took away the soiled linens. “Yes he is…my beautiful little boy…my precious Katsuki” the queen whispered, kissing the boy’s head. His tiny whisps of blonde hair tickled her face as she holds him close. A little fist slips out from the blankets, waving about as his wails grow louder. Another servant enters the room, her arms laden with fresh blankets and sheets, “The moonlight has returned!” She happily reports, setting down the bedding and drawing back the curtains some.

Soon as those first rays of the shining silver light landed on the baby, his shrieks cease instantly. Finally opening his small crimson eyes to stare up at his mother, a goofy smile appearing and soft cooing replaced his cries. Everyone in the castle seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as the dreaded eclipse had come to an end.

“My Katsuki, you’re going to grow into a strong, dependable man, eventually you’ll become the greatest king the world has ever seen…isn’t that right Masaru?” Mitsuki snuggled the baby, tears rolling down her cheeks. She wasn’t able to see the man standing beside the two of them, but Katsuki could. The spirit of his father placed its hand on his little head, and the baby began to giggle happily. “I cant do much in this form, but I’ll do whatever I can to help you make the right choice when the time comes…take care of your mother for me…I love you both so much”.

A/N: We’re starting a NEW series!

What did you think? Pay attention to that prophecy, any ideas on what it’s talking about?

#katsuki bakugou #Bakugou x reader #Bakugou x y/n #katsuki bakugo x reader #dragon king bakugou #mha fantasy au #mha fanfiction

[anathemafiction]

These Mortal Pains — Part One

Light.

Warm sunshine glints past a clear window. Little specks of dust dance within its beam, and for a moment, you're mesmerized by them. Your eyes feel tired, and the effort to keep your eyelids open is only eased by the moistness at the corners. You can feel dry tears on your cheeks and your body...

You don't want to think about your body. Pain, you have found, can be avoided if it's ignored. For a little while, you want to ignore it.

Because you hear breathing and it's not your own — it's his. His darling, precious breaths. You turn your head on your fresh, plush pillow to find Hadrian slumped over your bed.

The small bench he dragged next to you is too short for his long legs, so they're tucked awkwardly beneath it, at an odd angle that must be uncomfortable. His broad shoulders slouch so he can rest his elbows on top of your linen and lay his head on his forearms.

His back moves up and down with each inhale and exhale.

His hair is in as much disarray as before but is clean now. His closed eyes have deep, sunken circles beneath, and his skin is paler than usual. He looks thinner than usual. His clothes are tossed as if put on in haste, and a large, purple bruise blooms from the side of his jaw up to his cheekbone. As Hadrian sleeps next to you, one of his hands loosely holding your gloved one, he's the perfect picture of exhaustion.

Your dry tears are replaced with fresher ones, and you swallow the sob that makes a knot in your throat. You don't want to wake him to misery, you want him to wake to love.

His skin is warm and rough, but his hand holds you gently. Even as pain shoots up your side, fast and swift like lightning, you raise an arm to sweep your fingers through his hair. Affection warms your chest as your nails drag along his scalp, and slowly, you feel him stir. Hadrian blinks, lips moving to soundless mumbles as you sweep a strand of brown hair from his temple.

And suddenly, green eyes are shining at you.

You look at each other...

And Hadrian bolts upright, nearly falling as his eyes widen beyond belief. "You're awake," he whispers as if sound could break you. Hadrian stares at you, his whole body frozen.

You try to smile, but what comes out is a grimace. "Barely," you rasp out, the words scratching the walls of your throat. You can still taste ashes.

Hadrian slowly rises to his feet. He starts breathing harder, and there's so much emotion on his face. His dear, precious face. "Hadrian," you're finally able to say. "Hadrian, you saved me. I—"

(...)

The door slides open, and a shadow slips inside. 

Your eyes are used to the gloom, but the quick way it moves is hard to track. It comes closer to your bedside, and now the pale moonlight shines on soft brown hair and fair, smooth skin dotted with as many freckles as the night sky. But this one is a constellation that you've often contemplated its beauty. As equally beautiful as the pair of blue eyes that flash down at you and make you thank the heavens you get to live to see another day.

Thank nameless, forgotten gods you get to see her. Alessa stares down at you with an expression carved from stone as shadows make a home of her face. You stare back into the freezing depths of those eyes.

“You have awakened.” Comes her low voice, as beautiful as it is feeble. So unlike her.

You try to reach for her, but your whole body is in agony. "I had to," you rasp from bleeding lips. "I had to see you."

Alessa drops to her knees, and cold fingers ghost over your cheek, tracing your jaw, coming to hold the back of your neck. "Darling one," she breathes by your lips before pressing hers softly against yours. "I thought you would not awake."

You close your eyes, pressing your forehead to hers. "How long has it been?"

"Too long," Alessa answers, and you snap your eyes open because she weeps.

(...)

Alain runs as if his soul has jumped through his mouth, and he's doing his best to catch up.

The brown horse thunders towards him, but the nobleman isn't worried about being trampled under the hooves. He only has eyes for you. You're slumped over the beast's neck like a sack of potatoes.

No. There's blood. There's a lot of blood. Your face is drained of all color, and he's been a terrible servant, but God, let you not be dead. Let you not be dead. Let you...

It's funny how panic works. His mind is stuck on a pleading loop, but his body works on its own volition. "Stop the horse!" He orders the guards, but they're behind, and they're useless, so Alain does it himself. He opens his arms wide and jumps in front of the frantic beast. "Calm down! Calm down."

The horse is getting closer and closer. Alain can only look at you.

A trickle of blood pours from your lips.

He has never had his heart broken, but he feels something breaking now. He feels his whole chest caving, and he's panicking, but his body refuses to listen. "Calm down."

His voice comes out as if there isn't a cord wrapped around his neck. It comes out calm, and authoritative, and Alain doesn't think horses understand human language, but the horse comes to a stop right in front of Alain.

With the halt in movement, you falter... and then start to slide to the side.

Alain jumps, faster than he's ever been, and catches you mid-air. "Uff," he grunts but holds you safe in his arms. He pulls you closer, one hand supporting your upper back, and you're so close now that the stench of blood makes his eyes sting.

No.

He sees the bolt jammed into your side. His knees buckle. His arms refuse to panic. "Little sparrow," he whispers, and his voice breaks now. He wants to cup your cheek, to shake you awake, but he can't let go of you. "Little sparrow, open your eyes. Open your eyes for me."

You don't.

"Please," Alain whispers. He has never begged before, but he does it now. "Please, open your eyes."

"My lord!" Alain snaps his head up when the three guards reach him. They have sweat covering their faces, and two of them look with wide, panicked eyes at you hanging from his arms. "My lord is..."

One of them walks forward, raising her fingers to press them to your pulsing point, but Alain turns violently away. "Stay back," he barks, his voice dark. He would have slapped her if he had a free hand. "Don't touch him/her."

You're alive. There's no need to confirm it — it's an insult to. You're alive.

Alain regains his composure. "Have a clean room prepared," he orders her, voice a stone of cold once more. The guard hesitates, then nods and takes up running.

Alain turns to the second guard. "Call the healer. Pull her from her bed if needed. If she's not in the room when I get there, I'll have you both beheaded."

The guard, a young man, jumps and sprints back to the castle.

He turns to the last guard, a seasoned man with a dark, bushy beard. "Take the horse to the stable. Make sure they take care of him."

"Will do, my lord," the guard says but doesn´t rush to obey. Instead, he looks Alain in the eyes. "And then?"

Alain starts to walk, hugging you close. "Then get a party and find who did this," he says over his shoulder. He cradles your head against his chest. You're so cold. "And bring me their heads."

The guard spits on the ground and grabs the horse's reins. "Will do."

Alain walks with you in his arms, praying to a God who has never listened. My wealth for their life. My title for a breath.

.

.

.

You awake to warmth.

(...)

You awake to a gentle trickle.

Water splashes on water, and then, a cooling touch dampens your forehead. Water now trickles down your eyes, past your cheeks, and falls in little droplets to your bare shoulders.

Your body feels heavy and broken, but your ears are blessed with the gentle sound of crystalline water, and the soothing timber of a light, beautiful voice.

"Things fall apart."

Your lips quirk, for while your eyes are still closed, you immediately recognize the voice. Ysabella sings in a whisper so low that it's almost a hum, but wherever you are, it's dead silent, so you hear it as if she shouts.

A linen sheet covers your body up to your waist, and when you shuffle to the side, you feel the bandages wrapped around your middle. You don't feel any pain, but your tongue is dry and numb, your thoughts come slow and dragged, and you know you must be under the effect of some kind of drug.

Not that it matters. Because Ysabella keeps humming. "But nothing breaks like a heart," she sings, the trickling water accompanying like a band, and then, a wet, cooling cloth comes to press gently against your forehead. Bella hums, and pads your neck with little, tender touches. "Nothing breaks like a heart," she repeats in a lower, weaker voice as she cleans the top of your shoulders.

It feels so good, and sleep lulls you into its peaceful embrace, but at the last sentence, you snap your eyes open. Bella's voice sounded as heartbroken as her song, and that cannot be.

Light is scarce and warm. The final moments of a deep red sunset paint the two large windows that face the West. A white marbled fireplace has orange embers burning, and the door is wide enough to let two people walk side by side. But it's closed, and no one else is in the room except you and Ysabella.

"This world can break you," she whispers, turning away from you. She sits beside your bed on a simple, backless stool with three legs and a padded surface. She doesn't wear one of her long, beautiful gowns, but chooses instead a plain cotton dress that stops at her midcalf and has a deep round neckline. Her jewels are gone, her hair falls naturally down her golden skin, and from her profile, you can see that her lips aren't painted but are of her natural brownish, red color.

She leans over a thin table set beside her where it is an azure water basin, a fresh batch of bandages, and a yellow bottle of some kind of liquid. "It cuts you deep and leaves a scar." At the word scar, your noblewoman's voice cracks. Your chest clenches when you hear a sniffle, but Ysabella’s graceful hands don't falter.

Gently moving as if she dances to a trained routine, Ysabella brings the light blue towel she's cleaning you with to the basin and soaks it anew. "Things fall apart," she says, turning it carefully over. You wonder if the water turns red.

You wonder if her tears mix within.

Ysabella turns to you, and you can finally see the face of the world's most beautiful woman. And it looks exhausted. "But nothing breaks—"

Ysabella's eyes catch yours.

“Ah.” A gasp and the towel falls from her hands.

You have so much you'd like to tell her. But, when you crack your lips open, all that comes out is a stupid joke. "Am I in heaven?"

At the sound of your voice, Ysabella starts shaking. "You—you're not supposed to be awake yet," she says, dragging her chair closer. She lifts a hand towards your face but stops mid-air, brown eyes searching every inch of your face. "The healer said you'd sleep for at least three days. If— if you were ever to wake again."

"Damn, then it's good that I did, no?" you rasp out. Talking proves hard, especially with your numb tongue, but you want to soothe her.

Bella blinks, and tears fall down her cheeks. "You're not supposed to yet."

She's staring at you, her eyes glazed. Your smile dies when you realize she's in shock.

(...)

The entire pieces are available on Patreon!

Fire — Hadrian & Alessa

Wind — Alain & Ysabella

#these don't start from the beginning because the texts are so long #I picked some passages of each story #apologies if it doesn't make much sense #patreon #The Golden Rose #Hadrian #Alessa #Ysabella #Alain

[jakeikeu]

morning warmth || sjy

genre: fluffy drabble. you are married!! with kids!!

warnings: suggestive, but barely. grammar is def incorrect...

word count: 0.8k? tbh i didn't count this time

synopsis: you’re settled in the best of places. these are your typical mornings married to jake.

The autumn air is crisp with a bite, but the rays of sun contradict. It feels too good on your skin to go back inside despite the lack of clothing covering your body. A silk robe sits off the shoulder, wrapped tightly around your waist. A gift from Jake given to you on a night where the stars were shining the brightest. Buying it because it reminded him of your touch.

"Mellow and gentle", he would whisper to you, lips pressed softly against your temple. For you and the stars to hear.

A small smile graces your features at the passing memory, you bring the robe tighter around your body. The cup of coffee sits empty on the balcony table and bustles as your knee gets caught under the table attempting to stand up. Rubbing the soreness away you re-enter the warmth of your home, empty mug in hand, and bring the balcony doors to a close shutting out the cool breeze. Your feet shuffle towards the vinyl record player, bringing a gentle sound into the air. The kids have been out the whole weekend with their grandparents. Home clouds itself in soft quietness from the lack of their rowdy presence.

This is your last day off and your last day of peace and tranquility, so you spend it in the arms of your lover.

Making your way back to the bedroom where the sunlight gazes through the blinds and casts its shadows over the sleeping lump on your bed. The blankets and pillows are set array. Jake lays on his back with his mouth hung open while his chest falls up and down with every breath he takes. The blankets are bunched around his waist so you fix it to cover his whole body similar to the way he does to you on a late night homecoming finding you fast asleep on the couch.

Slowly crawling onto the bed, you lift the heavy duvet and bring your body closer to Jake’s. The shuffling brings out a small groan from the male, lips smacking as he shifts to bring you in closer by the waist, engulfing you in warm comfort. His breathing evens out again, and you’re left admiring the features of his face. Your fingers gently brush over the side of his face until your palm meets the tan of his neck, splaying your fingers just over the curve of his jaw. Your touch is electric and undisturbed and Jake feels it too as he nuzzles into your palm placing a small peck right in the center.

You stare for a few more moments and marvel at the way your heart continuously beats in endearment for him. The blossom that starts in your chest surrounds your body as Jake cracks one sleepy eye open taking a glance into your own before scrunching them back closed with a stretch of his limbs and a loud groan coming from his throat. His arms find themselves at home around your waist once again before rolling over onto his back bringing you on top of him. Lifting your head to look down on him you press a long kiss to his lips.

Jake sighs once you pull away, his arms flexing around you tighter, chasing after your mouth. “good morning,” he mumbles placing his lips on yours after each word, brushing your hair behind your ears.

Loving you for years and he still stares into your eyes like it's the first time.

“your breath stinks,” scrunching your nose at him despite the fluttering in your belly.

“you kissed me first.”

Closing his eyes he basks in your warmth for a moment longer.

“when’s breakfast?” he asks, breaking the silence.

You hit his arm in response and using his chest as leverage, lift yourself up onto your forearms looking at him with the most serious face you could muster, “when you brush your teeth.”

You let out a laugh as he slams his head back on the pillow in defeat eyebrows scrunched and begin to maneuver yourself off his body when he moves to sit up. Settling back into a laying position as Jake crawls over your body to stand on the wooden floors. He stretches his arms over his head and you thank the heavens he sleeps shirtless as you watch every ridge of his muscles twist this way and that.

Noticing you staring he lets a slight smirk grace his features before attacking your stomach with wiggles of his fingers. “mmm baby it's only eight in the morning,” sweet voice overbearing your screams of laughter

Satisfied, he leans in and presses his lips to yours once again and let's go with a soft bite to your bottom lip, weaving his arms under your knees and back before straightening with you in his arms.

You stare at his features for the second time this morning as you let a stray thoughts cross your mind hiding the smile crawling up your face in his neck and let your nose slightly brush along it, inhaling the scent that is solely him as he walks towards the bathroom with you in tow, setting you down on the sink in front of him.

His fingers are soft and delicate when he runs them along the tops of your thighs. From his place standing in between your legs, he towers over you and you lean back on your hands to look up at his eyes. He can’t help the chuckle he lets out as he thinks of your first encounter. A cluster coffee spills, Jake’s stutters, and a rare complement of his smile coming from you that you still tell him to this day.

“i’m so in love with you.” he lets the smile shine through.

“i love you most.” and it’s not until you're halfway to the kitchen when Jake realizes you're gone.

And when the smell of breakfast wafts its way throughout the house, Jake's stomach roars as the scent reaches his nose all the way upstairs. He stampedes in just at the right moment when you settle the plate of cooked bacon down on the counter and his body collides with yours rounding his arms around you from behind before lifting and spinning. The sound of your giggles brings him a certain happiness that nothing else can as he settles you down gently before nuzzling into the side of your neck taking a deep inhale.

“c’mon baby, I called my parents over for breakfast and they’re bringing the kids back. I need assistance here,” you kiss the side of his head.

“let’s stand like this for a few more minutes,” is whispered into the side of your neck. The movement of his lips are light, but it’s there.

And so you stay for a few more moments. Swaying slightly side to side with the music from earlier this morning still permeating its sound throughout the living area. Hearts full of love. Sim Jaeyun, the only one capable of making your heart flutter with a simple stroke of his hands upon your arms.

The next second you're thrown off momentum, and the only thing you could comprehend is Jake's evil laugh before you’re settled on top of the counter. The space between your thighs occupied by Jake's body again. Your heart beating faster and your breaths heavier as Jake's hands burn a hot trail from the tops of your thighs to undo the tie of your robe. It drapes open to reveal the simple black bra and underwear, but that’s enough for Jake to salivate. His pupils dilate with a sharp inhale he lets out through a groan.

“just give me five minutes I can be fast,” his hands curl up your sides to the small of your back to bring you in that much closer. He brushes his nose along the column of your neck, open mouthed kisses following the same pattern before trailing down to graze his teeth over your clothed nipples.

“we can’t, the kids.”  you stutter out, but tilt your head back to welcome more of what he's giving you. His kisses turning into little bites and his little bites turning into harsh sucks leaving red splotches in their wake and your core clenches.

"my baby's so dumb and I haven't done a thing yet."

The harsh ringing of your phone and the vibrations coming from it that scare you two apart. Heavy breathing filling the void as you scramble to answer it with a shaky hello almost dropping it in the process.

“mommy!” you smile wide hearing her voice before it’s cut off by the voice of your father.

“we’re headed to the store, do you need anything?” he offers a harmless chore.

“no, thank you! ...mhm I love you too!” setting the phone down after the call ended.

You look over your shoulder to see Jake cutting fruits. He momentarily stops to look up at you following the structures of your face before moving down to glaze over your neck. His eyes snap back up to yours where he sends you a wink with a smirk overcoming his features and resumes cutting the fruit like nothing ever happened.

Brat.

a/n: omg hi guys! i would say i'm back, but the last time i wrote was like years ago and i deleted everything from then lmao so technically this is my first official something. hope you guys like it and show it some love. stay tuned! <3

#enhypen #enhypen jake #sim jaeyun #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #jake fluff #jake scenarios #jake imagines

[smoooothoperator]

untouchable

21: Dear Reader

Lando Norris x OC (Violet Sinclair)

same group friend, unrequited love, acquittances to lovers, ski trip, love triangle, life as lovers

Words: 2.7k

a/n: so this is the end! There will be an epilogue and if course extra chapters, you can ask whatever you want to know about Violet and Lando. I'm so so so happy I came with the idea of this story and I feel proud of how it went, of the welcome of you guys, and as well as how the little idea of a ski trip turned into this! Thank you so so much to everyone that supported, I owe you the world❤️

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previous chapter | epilogue

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Every way of feedback is very welcomed

If you ask someone how it feels being unconscious, they will probably answer you that it feels like a nightmare, a deep dream that no matter how hard you try you won't wake up. You can hear everyone's voices like an echo in your mind, mixed with the beeping of the monitors

My mind repeated all the time the last thing I saw before passing out, a bright pair of white lights coming closer to me. I was in an eternal nightmare, hearing his voice begging me to open my eyes. But I couldn't do it.

But I always felt his hand on mine, his lips on my knuckles, how he brushed my hair with his fingers. That was the only thing that kept me at ease, that made me feel I wasn't alone.

But the day when I woke up, when I could finally do what he asked, moving my finger, he wasn't there. 

When I opened my eyes, I didn't find his blue ones. I found a curly hair next to me, but it wasn't his.

“Lando” I mumbled as well as I could, feeling how sore and dry my throat was. 

“Oh, God” 

Pietra and Max got up looking at me, watching how I looked around confused. 

“Lando? Where…”

He left? He really left me? 

“He had to leave” Max said, grabbing a bottle of water and putting a straw on it, helping me drink it. “He will come soon, okay? Don't worry”

I sipped the water, thirstier than I thought I was. But still, there were so many questions around my mind right now.

“Where am I?” I whisper. “I… What happened?”

Pietra and Max took a deep breath looking at each other. They told me everything, from the moment I got out of my apartment to go pick up the moment Lando received the call while he was streaming, they told me about them going to the hospital and Lando nearly screaming at the receptionist and how relieved they were when the doctor told them about the surgery.

“He never left” Pietra smiled weakly. “We had to force him to eat something, sending him reminders about his lunch and dinner”

“But… What about his training?” I mumbled confused.

“He will ask for a pair of weeks more” Max sighed. “Pato will drive for him in the first race after the break, just to make sure that you recover”

“But…”

“He won't leave you alone, Violet”

I took a deep breath and smiled weakly, closing my eyes for some seconds until the door opened.

When he walked in I barely recognized him. His curls were barely done, messy and falling on his eyes. He let his facial hair grow a little. His eyes weren't shining as always, and the bags under his eyes were there too.

When I said his name I could see the shock in his eyes, as well as fear and regret.

“You are awake” he mumbled, walking towards my bed, swallowing thickly. 

“Mhm” I nodded, looking at him, reaching for his hand.

“And I wasn't here”

I took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. Something in them is not there anymore, I can see a shadow that is making his smile not reach to his blue eyes.

“But you are here now” I whisper, holding his hand with my hands. “That's everything that matters”

I saw Pietra and Max getting up, walking out of the room and leaving us alone. 

I saw Lando's bottom lip trembling, making him trap it between his teeth. His eyes were getting wetter while he pressed his forehead against mine. 

“He did it, Vi… Harry did this” he whispered.

Something inside of me knew it. Something really deep inside of me knew that he was the reason for the crash.  

Lando sat on the bed next to me, grabbing his phone and showing me the recording, holding my hand while we listened to it.

“I don't want to see him ever again” I whispered, feeling a knot in my throat when I heard the moment he jumped from the chairs ready to attack Lando. 

“He will go to jail” Lando sighed.

“Good” I nodded. “He deserves to rot in there”

I recovered slower than I would like to admit. Getting up from bed was a torture, sitting on the couch was a relief that only lasted a few seconds before realizing I had to get up from it later. The walls and the ceiling of the bedroom started to get boring.

Silence fell between us, with his hands holding mine as we took deep breaths, trying to assimilate everything.

“I really need to go out…” I groaned.

Lando stayed with me all the time. Even if he still had a week more of his summer break, he decided to ask for two more weeks to take care of me. 

“You know you can't… Remember what the doctor said” he sighed, bringing the food to the table of the living room. 

“I know, but I'm just getting tired of these walls” I sighed. 

He smiled, standing behind my chair and wrapping his arms around my shoulders, reading what I was doing on my laptop.

“Just wait a few days, okay?” he whispered, pressing a kiss on the top of my head. “And while you recover, we can look for houses, hm? I chose some that maybe you'll like”

The torturous and slow way I recovered was agonizing. The visits to the doctor were too many to count them with my hands: exams of my head, exams of my broken bones, talks with the psychiatrist. 

“Can we visit them once I have the cast out of my leg?” I asked him, taking a deep breath after watching the pictures of the houses he found.

“Of course” he nodded. 

I took a deep breath and looked around. Lando told me that while I was unconscious his parents came to stay here, to keep the apartment clean and to be closer to the hospital.

“What will happen with Harry?” I dared to ask, leaning on his chest. “Like… He's obviously a psychopath, or something in that style. Will he go to jail? Or somewhere where they control people like that?”

I felt Lando sigh and rest his chin on top of my head. I could hear his mind working, trying to find the right words of what he wanted to say.

“I just… I hope he gets the punishment he deserves to have” he said, and I could find a little bit of disappointment in his voice. “He hurt you, and I won't forgive him for doing that. Years ago I accepted that the friendship I had with him was gone, that he only wanted to be around for my money and fame. But now… What he did is unforgivable, Violet”

“I know” I whisper, swallowing the lump of my throat. “I know… I think I'll never forgive him either…”

He held me tight, like he was scared of letting me go. The last few days were hard, he always wanted to be around me, and I could feel how he woke up in the middle of the night to hold me tighter. And something inside of me broke knowing why he did that. While I was unconscious I could hear him cry. He did that when he was alone, when none of his family or friends were around. I could feel him holding my hand tight, pressing it against his lips while he let go the tears, when he talked about his fear of losing me. 

How could I be so stupid? I made him promise me that he will always come back after a race, that he won't have a crash. And he made that promise, he came back after every race. And it was me who never came back, who got into a crash.

“I'm just glad that he's not around ever again” I sighed. “That we can love our lives without worrying what would be his next move”

He nodded in silence, sitting on the chair next to mine and eating the food on his plate without saying a word about it. I sighed, reaching for his hand and squeezing it softly, smiling weakly.

“We are free, Lando” I smiled weakly. “No more fear, no more looking out the window in case we are stalked…”

“You knew?” he frowned. He kept that in secret, hiding the pictures Harry sent on his backpack.

“I found the pictures some day when I was getting your backpack ready…” I sighed. “I guess you hid them to not scare me, so I just didn't say anything…”

“He is so sick, Violet” he sighed, clenching his jaw. “He knew exactly where the window of your room was. He took pictures of us in bed! Of you naked! Of us having sex. And he threatened me to sell them”

“But he didn't” I said. “Those were only threats…”

I took a deep breath and looked at him, watching how he was taking deep breaths while he closed his eyes.

“That's why you always look out the window before going to bed?” I sighed. 

“Yeah” he sighed. “I mean, at first I only thought it was a sick stalker. But then I started to think and then things made sense… I guess I always knew Harry was the one behind those threats…”

“He did everything to scare you and pull you away from me” I sighed.

“You heard his confession…” he said. “He did the same with your exes”

The fact that he was there when I was nearly abused. That he watched from afar how I was touched without permission and he only stared to find a moment to be the hero.

Boxes were the only thing I could see.

“He's sick” I said, pushing the plate away, not wanting to eat anymore, feeling nauseous.

“Where should we put the plants? I don't want to kill them” 

Boxes, bags and suitcases.

Boxes everywhere.

Lando came into the office with an empty box, leaving it on the floor. He placed his hands on his hips, looking at me with a frown, then at the plants.

“Internet says that you can put them on a box and make holes on it so they can have air” Lando frowned. “I mean… What we can do is take them first to the house? Put them in the back of the car and then leave there while we come back for the rest of things”

I look at him and then at the plants. There are four plants in my office, six in the bedroom, three in the bathroom and eight in the living room.

“Will they fit?” I asked. “In my car?”

“Yeah” he nodded, biting the nail of his thumb.

“In an Audi A1?” I laughed. 

He looked at me and took a deep breath before walking out of the office, coming back after a few seconds with a smile.

“I'll owe Max money…” he sighed.

“It's not my problem you two made a bet about us not needing help” I said, raising up my arms.

Moving out was finally happening.

I recovered right in time for the second race of the second half of the season. Time passed really fast and in between his races we started looking for houses, making time pass even faster. 

Packing all the things in my apartment was another story. Taking all my things and putting them in boxes, bags and suitcases was funny, but I hated the fact that Lando made a bet with Max.

“He will be a pain in the ass” he sighed, walking slower towards me and wrapping his arms around my waist, resting his head on my shoulder.

“Not my problem” I laughed softly. “Come on, we need a bigger car and he has one”

“We can always rent a car…”

“Lando”

“Okay, okay” he sighed, grabbing his phone and calling his friend.

The new house was completely empty when we bought it and it was exciting for us because we could decorate it how we wanted. 

“Are we sleeping there tonight?” I smiled excitedly, biting my lip. “The mattress arrives this afternoon”

“Sure, why not?” he smiled.

When Max came, he was already smirking once he crossed the front door. I watched them, how Lando rolled his eyes and Max extended his hand with the keys of his car in exchange of a bill.

“I didn't want to say it, but…” Max smirked, looking at me and then at Lando. “Told ya”

“Whatever!” Lando exclaimed, making us laugh. “But thank you”

“You can use my car, okay?” I said, getting up and grabbing the keys of my car. “Maybe we will use it for the weekend, to take the suitcases and boxes”

“Okay” he smiled, and looked at us. “I'm so proud of you two, really”

“Stop it, you are going to make me cry” Lando laughed.

Max chuckled and hugged us before grabbing the keys of my car. He stayed here to help us put the plants in his car, just to be faster.

“We'll call you once the house is finally done” I said smiling. “So we can make a welcome home dinner”

“I like how it sounds” he nodded. “When is the furniture coming?”

“Tomorrow” Lando said, standing next to me after closing the door of the backseats once he put the last plant inside of the car. “Tomorrow is the living room and couch. This afternoon the mattress is coming”

“Let me guess, you will stay there tonight?” Max laughed.

“Oh yeah” he smirked looking at me, making me blush and look away.

“Forget it, I don't want to know what you two do there” Max exclaimed, making us laugh. “If you need help, Pietra and I can come tomorrow to help you build the furniture”

“Oh sure” I smiled. “No bets this time, please”

“Yes, ma’am” both of them sighed.

I smile and hug Max before getting in the car, biting my lip. The keys of the new house were in my bag, and I couldn't help but feel excited as we were getting closer.

“Are you excited?” he asked me, placing his hand on my thigh and squeezing it softly. 

“You have no idea” I smiled. 

It was only a turn more to the left and we're just in front of our house. Our house, our place. Home.

He parked the car in front of the gate and I grabbed the keys, pressing the control remote key and filing when the gate opened in front of us. He drove inside and stopped the car in front of the main door.

“I can't believe we're finally doing it” I said, getting out of the car and looking at the house.

I turned around and looked at him, walking towards me. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and I did the same, wrapping it around his waist and leaning on him.

“Do you want to get it?” he smiled, pressing a kiss on my temple.

I smiled and nodded, grabbing the keys and walking towards the door, unlocking it and opening it. But then I felt his arms around my back and behind my knees, picking me up and making me giggle.

“Lando!” I gasped, wrapping my arm around his shoulders.

“It's our first time walking in, we have to do it this way” he smirked, walking inside of the house.

He placed me back on the floor and I smiled looking around. The empty hall welcomed us, but it was perfect. This place is perfect.

“Well?” he smiled, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his head on my shoulder.

“It's perfect” I smiled. “I can't wait to have the mattress”

“Oh, I don't think that can stop us! There is a kitchen aisle, a bathroom… plenty of places to have sex” he smirked.

“Yeah? I want to see the kitchen, just to make a better look at it, what do you think?” I smirk, walking away from him and looking over my shoulder, smiling when I saw him walk towards me while he unbuttoned his jeans and took off his hoodie.

This place is home. He is my home. And I can't wait to build a future with him, to see kids running around the living room, to hear our laughs. 

This is finally our time to be happy.

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@elisysd @racinggirl @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @landoyesrizz @lorarri @bellwhysomean @leptitlu @aphroditeisamilf @brekkers-whore @copper-boom @sideboobrry11 @alltoomaples @f1madison @elijahslover @silkenthusiasts @chonkybonky @summerslike11 @randomgirlnumber-13 @is-just-a @whentheautumnleavesfall @malynn @mycenterfold @barackosteaa @izzy-marvel @ssprayberrythings @ophcelia @traveling-inspiration

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 serie #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 drabble #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one fanfic #formula one x reader #formula one fanfiction #lando norris #lando norris x oc #lando norris blurb #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fluff #ln4 fic #mclaren

[redheadspark]

hello can i request #29 with azriel from acotar! thank u

A/N - I think this is beyond adorable and great for Azriel! Thank you for requesting this, anon!

Warm

Summary - Azrile brings you peace and love again after you return from being under the mountain

Warnings - Just some angst and fluff morphed together :)

Drip....drip.....

Drip.....drip...

You were watching the water drip down from the faucet, going in an inconsistent rhythm while you were hugging your knees to your chest and your hair was framining your face. It shoudn't take this amount of strength to reach over and turn the water on, to let the warm and nearly pipping hot water surround you in the massive claw tub, and you let the rest of the day melt away with the soaps that Elaine gifted you on your birthday.

But you couldn't reach it. Your mind was occupied somewhere else.

It has been years since you were trapped under the mountain, under the wrath of Amarantha and her sick reign and control over those who were her prisoners. You were one of the unlucky ones that suffered: Countless nights and endless nightmares that you would never see the light of day ever again, countless times of pain and punishment from either moving too slow or being too inconistant.

Worst of all, you were almost sold off as a sex slave. But you weren't, and you had Rhysand to thank for that.

The door to the bathroom opened and closed quietly, you instantly know who it was since you felt the soft licks of shadows along your bare back and your neck. It was a sense of greeting, a gnetle way and nothign too harsh. The soft sounds of boots waking onto the room was heard too, but then it stopped right next to you.

A scarred and calloused hand, touching the rim of the bathtub as the being crouched down to see at your eye level.

"My love?"

You looked away from the dripping water and over at Azriel, seeing him watch you with love in his eyes, some concern and pain, but mostly love. His hazel eyes were shining from the lights in the bathroom lights and candles that were already at work, his smile appeared as your eyes searched his own while he tilted his head at you, "Feyre told me you were feeling a bit out of it today. I came home early from training the new recruits to check on you,"

"Az...you didn't have to--" You were starting to say to him, but Azriel leaned in to press a kiss under your eyes and then pushed his head into yours. You breathed him in, the musky scent he brought with him from his vigorous training and work amongst the Illryian soldiers. But his scent was also his own: a mixture of the ocean breeze and some of the orange blossoms that were near your little townhouse you two lived in.

"I wanted to," He reminded you softly as his voice vibrated against your skin, "You're still healing, and I wanna be here for you as you heal: for the good and the bad, remember?"

You gulped and nodded your head, tears were falling freely now as Azriel pushed them away with his thumb. You knew Azriel would enver be parted from you for far too long, not anymore after he nearly lost you under the mountain for all the time. He swore to you that he would be at your side throughout your healing process, after hearing from Madja that it would take some time for you to bounce back to where you used to be. Madja laid it on thick and wasn't sugar coating it: you went through shit thanks to Amarantha.

Rhysand protected you from worsening nightmares, thanks to his persuasion and the methods he had to use on Aramantha. He didn't mind being her "whore" so to speak, since it would give him the opportunity to talk Amarantha down from selling your own body in return. You were grateful for him and his willingness to place his neck on the line for you, and when Azriel heard of this news, he could only thank Rhysand and owe him his life for saving you.

Azriel turned on the water and got the water flowing in the tub, then stripped off his own clothes slowly as you felt the water rising in the tub. The piping hot water along your sensitive skin was both soothing and yet uncomfortable, but it was better than being cold. Azriel, now bare and his shadows diminishing a bit against his wings, got into the bath behind you and leaned back against the back of the tub. With gentleness, he touched your bareback soothingly with his fingers and moved them up and down along the nobs of your spine.

The same scarred hands that were damaged when he was a boy, the very hands that had raised hell and fears in others with how deadly they are holding Truth Teller, were beyond gentle and loving to you as he was coaxing you to unwind and unravel from your fears. He never once gave you a sense of fear with his fingers and palms, on the contrary he was always soothing and kind.

Even after you two were reunited from under the mountain and became mates not too long after, Azriel stayed gentle. Maybe it was your love language, the delicate touch that made you feel so safe and loved at the same time. You had to wonder if he was like this with just his friends, but Cassian told you with reassurance it was just with you.

"Trust me, Az is not one to be a softy. Only with those he trusts with his life, and that's you,"

"Come back, my love," Azriel hummed at you, you unwinding your legs and finding yourself being leaned back against his muscular chest. The firmness of his chest along your back made you sigh in relief and his arms were linked along yours as your side. Your legs bracketing one another, and you knew he was doing that on the surface. No matter if you two were naked and bare in the tub, Velaris was right outside your curtain-drawn window, and the world going on with ease, you two were in the moment together. Azriel knew to ground you by touch, whether it was holding your hand or hugging you in bed, he knew how to calm you come skin contact. He was the same way: you would touch his shoudler when he was stressed or kiss the side of his head when life was too much. You helped him so much when he was in the rough patches.

Now he was going to help you heal in return.

He started to hum as the water magically stopped at the right spot, you both were mostly submerged under the water as the steam was rising in the air and along your face and neck. His humming was a song, an old lullaby you knew belonged to his mother who would sing to him when he was a little boy. He taught you the song in the earlier part of your friendship, and you thought the song was beautiful.

Ever since then, he would only hum it to you as a reminder: The song that was sung by the first woman he loved was now sung to the love of his life.

As he hummed, you moved his arms to drape around your chest and waist, cradling you against him as your eyes closed. Azriel never pushed you when it came to touching, especially as you were healing. So for you to make the first move and let you hold you close in his arms, Azriel felt his heart shift. He didn't care how long the process will take for you to be full again, he only knew that you were there in his arms, willing to lte him help you heal.

And you did heal, becoming stronger than ever.

The End

May Prompt Session

#azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x female reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel x oc #a court of silver flames #a court of wings and ruin #a court of thorns and roses #a court of frost and starlight #a court of mist and fury #acomaf fanfiction #acotar fluff #acotar fanfiction

[demon-slayer-chaos]

so

uhm

uh

akaza yandere?

but like

obsessive yandere?

like?

really obsessive yandere?

ruh roh?

oopsies?

*doesn't have to be pure minded either 🧍🏻‍♀️*

"A Demons Love" Yandere!Akaza x reader.

Hehehe I finally got off my ass and wrote this after it sitting in my drafts for literally a whole year.

Triggers: Yandere Themes, obsession, kidnapping, Akaza low key is out of character ITS MY FIRST TIME WRITING HIM LEAVE ME ALONE 😭. I DON'T CONDONE ANY OF THESE ACTIONS THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.

Characters in this: Akaza

Requested: Yes

🔓 Requests are closed as of now🔓

Link to rules

Masterlist coming soon...

🏮- Oh dear, poor you. Dealing with an upper moon? How unfortunate.

🏮- Akaza's obsession started when he saw you taking a lonely night walk near your house. He wasn't out to kill anyone, he originally intended to just enjoy the moons light and the gentle nighttime breeze. Then he saw you.

🏮- He saw your figure and got interested, he started watching you out of curiosity. He knew that most humans wouldn't take a random walk at night, people weren't stupid, they knew demons existed. So it was an uncommon sight.

🏮- Before long, he felt a deep longing for a connection he has never experienced before. He knew he had a past love, but nobody had struct him as hard as you did. Seeing your beautiful hair seemed to always be shining in the moonlight, the way your eyes stood out, something about you hoping first sight made the upper moon fall hard.

🏮- His desire for closeness and attachment leads him down a dark path.

🏮- Despite his twisted feelings, Akaza maintains a facade of respect and courtesy towards you. He believes that treating you with kindness will make you reciprocate his affections.

🏮- His nightly watches soon became small talk between the two of you, which soon became conversations, eventually the two of you befriended each other. You weren't scared of him, and he wasn't going to harm you.

🏮- The two of you took regular walk, and you found out more about each other. Akaza always remembered these conversations, especially with little details.

🏮- One night you talk about your favorite flowers, the next morning you have them at your door step. One night you mention your favorite food? It's in your kitchen that morning, freshly made. Have a book you've been eyeing recently at a shop? You have it now. All because of him

🏮-This friendship comes at a cost however, Akaza becomes possessive and jealous, unable to bear the thought of anyone else having even the slightest influence on you. Only he should be able to see that gorgeous smile, or hear that beautiful laugh!

🏮- This possessiveness may manifest in subtle ways, such as monitoring your activities or keeping tabs on your relationships.

🏮- He struggles with his internal conflict between his violent tendencies and his desire to keep you safe. His actions might range from intense outbursts of rage to tender moments of care and protection. But he'd never show that side to you.

He waited so patiently every night to see you, what was taking so long?

The moonlight bathed the quiet courtyard, casting eerie shadows upon the stone walls. Akaza's eyes scanned around in the dark, waiting for you. Searching like a hunter finding it's prey, except there was no malicious intentions with him. He simply wanted to go on his nightly walk with you once more, it was a habit he squeezed into his schedule after god knows how long. He had a plead and beg for Muzan to allow a bit of free time for him to enjoy with you. Normally if you didn't feel good or an emergency happened he wouldn't be upset about missing such a small activity, if anything he'd still find you and watch over you. But tonight nothing changed, except your presence was absent.

He waited patiently for you in the dark, he was slowly getting more and more upset. Were you skipping out on the walk? He didn't know, until his eyes fixated upon you, his object of obsession, as you went about your evening routine. He saw your figure with a few others walking down the same path the two of you take every night.

Your gentle laughter echoed through the night air as you conversed with a group of friends. Akaza's heart skipped a beat, a twinge of jealousy piercing his chest. How dare they bask in your light, sharing the joy that should be his alone? He felt his nails digging into his palms as he watched, seeing that you went out with friends. Normally he'd know about such an event and wouldn't care too much, but it was clearly last minute.

As the night deepened, the group dispersed, leaving you alone in the tranquil courtyard. Akaza seized the opportunity, emerging from the shadows with a smile carefully painted across his face. His voice, though soft and gentle, carried a subtle undercurrent of possession.

"Ah, my dearest," he murmured, stepping forward, his eyes ablaze with fervent adoration. "How fortunate I am to witness your radiance under the moon's embrace."

You turned to face him, surprise flickering across your features. The unfamiliar intensity in his gaze momentarily gave you pause, but you dismissed it as a trick of the moonlight. "Akaza, you startled me," you said, offering a small smile.

"Forgive me, my love," he replied, his voice tinged with a blend of remorse and delight. "I couldn't resist the urge to be near you, to inhale the sweet fragrance of your existence." Akaza's words dripped with an unnerving possessiveness, yet his demeanor remained oddly respectful. He stepped closer, his presence enveloping you, suffocating yet comforting. A predatory glimmer danced in his eyes, his obsession transparent. He then gently, yet tightly grabbed your wrist, pulling you into his chest.

"Your laughter, your every breath—it belongs to me," he whispered, his voice dripping with longing and madness. "No one else can understand your worth, your essence, as deeply as I do."

As the fear trickled down your spine, you took a step back, a cautious glimmer in your eyes. "Akaza, you're scaring me," you spoke softly, attempting to reason with the man who stood before you, his desire veering dangerously into obsession.

A twisted smile curved Akaza's lips as he raised a hand, his fingers gently caressing your cheek. "Oh, my dear, do not fear. I am merely taking what rightfully belongs to me," he declared, his voice laced with a chilling conviction. Before you could react, a sudden surge of strength coursed through his body, his hand swiftly closing around your wrist. Panic flooded your senses as you realized you were unable to break free from his grasp, his supernatural strength overpowering your every attempt.

As you struggled, your heart pounded against your ribcage, the realization of your predicament sinking in. Akaza, the one you once considered a friend, had crossed the threshold of obsession, becoming a captor of your very being. With a smooth, calculated motion, Akaza pulled you closer, his grip unyielding. "My love, I cannot bear the thought of you being apart from me any longer."

A twisted, feverish gleam filled Akaza's eyes as he whispered, his voice a chilling mix of possessiveness and delusion. "In my arms, you shall remain forever, my precious treasure. No one else shall have you. No one else deserves you."

Terror surged through your veins as you realized the depth of Akaza's obsession, his determination to keep you confined to his twisted world. You fought against his hold, desperate for freedom, but his grip only tightened, his fingers digging into your skin. With a sharp, predatory grin, Akaza hoisted you over his shoulder effortlessly, your struggles rendered futile against his supernatural strength. He carried you away, his steps quick and purposeful, leaving the moonlit courtyard and venturing into the depths of the night.

Your voice trembled as you pleaded with him, your words laced with desperation. "Akaza, please... Let me go. This isn't love. This is captivity."

Akaza's laughter echoed through the empty streets, a chilling melody that sent shivers down your spine. "Love, my dearest, is a fickle thing. It can be gentle, yes, but it can also be possessive and consuming. I am consumed by my love for you, and I shall protect you from the world that seeks to take you away."

As he carried you further into the shadows, your heart sank. You were trapped, at the mercy of a demon's warped affection. The world outside grew distant, and the future appeared bleak. In the depths of Akaza's twisted love, you could only hope for a sliver of light to guide you back to freedom.

#demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #fluff #x reader #akaza #kny headcanons #kny akaza #demon slayer akaza #akaza x reader #akaza x you #yandere #yandere akaza #yandere kny #yandere demon slayer #yandere demon x reader #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #yandere x reader #yandere x you #demon slayer fanfiction #demon slayer fanfic

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

All the stars are shining bloody red

Previous chapter

a/n not sure if anyone's even waited for part two but this has been so fun to write so I hope y'all will give this a read. 🤍✨

summary: just what happens when an innocent night at the pleasure house leads to something much bigger, making two lost soles collide.

warning: choking, seductive behavior, past trauma idk not many warnings.

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"Sing her a song, an ancient lullaby", you hummed, dragging the brush through your curls. A distant memory of the song that twirled for as long as you could remember. "Make her eyes as shiny as sapphires gleam", you sang, moving to twist the braid, neatly wrapping it around the crown of your head. "Only your love can make her cursed heart beat." Pushing a pin with a pearl attached to the top of it, you glanced at your reflection in the mirror; the scattered frame looked right at you. As if the glass was broken yet you knew it wasn't, "Only you can make her see the truth", the toon died down quickly, overpowered by the banging on your door. The sudden sound made you drop the pin in your head as you wrung around. "You're needed in twenty minutes", the voice roared, and you found yourself nodding even if you were sure she couldn't see you.

As you stepped out of your room, the other girls were almost ready too. Fussing over one another as they fixed each other's hair and makeup. You often wondered what it was like to have friends like that. Or at least someone willing to help you out in some way. "Did you see who was in the crowd last night?", one of the blondes beamed. "I heard that Mother Myriam talked to the high lord himself", the other cut in, making a handful of girls gasp. "Do you think they'll be here tonight?", "Oh, if they are, the one with the broody face is mine". The fuss truly hasn't died down, it seems. Falling asleep was nearly impossible last night because the girls took ages to settle.

"Is it such a big deal?", you asked almost shyly, pushing them all turn your way. "Are you kidding?", the girl from the back snorted. "That's the high lord's family. That is the biggest deal there could be, silly". You lowered your head quickly with a nod. There were a lot of things that were still new to you. There were so many questions that you didn't have the answer to. "What do you think Mother Myrian would gift you if you got one of them into the back room?", Sylia was Myriam's favorite for a reason. That girl was ready to do anything. You doubted that she had any moral codes, but that was what got her so far. What gave her freedom? A chance to walk freely. To be her own creature. Something you would probably never know the feeling of.

It felt like whatever happened in that pleasure house had changed everything. Well, not for most. Mor was happy that she proved her point. That was more than enough for her. Everyone had talked about it the following morning. The mesmerizing gaze was still present until Rhys slammed his fist onto the table. Everyone had turned his way, and it was like he had felt under the spotlight. He pushed his chair back quickly as he walked out of the dining room.

Azriel said nothing about the conversation in the basement. He didn't bring up the fact that Rhys was somehow tangled in this as well. Or was he? It scattered Azriel's head as well, because he had, for the longest time, been sure that there were no secrets between them. Rhys had always made the point that honesty was the key to loyalty. And now that seemed like a rock that had been thrown into his garden. His high lord's head was bowed low as Azriel strolled through his office door. The information containing the names of all attendees was neatly written down, along with any other information that his shadows managed to gather.

Azriel knew that what Rhys now needed was for him to just drop the file on the side of the table and leave. But Azriel didn't care for Rhys's feelings. "Can I ask you something", Azriel said, turning back to his high lord. Rhys lifted his head, tired eyes looking at his shadow singer, and said, "Of course", "What do you know about that pleasure house?" Azriel made sure to emphasize your part, just in case. "Where is this coming from?", Rhys tried to ask, and yes, there was a pleading look in his eyes that requested Azriel to just drop this for now. That he will say everything when the time comes.

"Oh, we both know where this is coming from. Who the hell is Myriam?", That's been the only, or at least the most eager, question in his head. That felt like something personal. It wasn't just two strangers. Rhys knew that woman. But how? From were? Who was she? Did Feyre know about her?

"Azriel...", Rhys pleaded; he didn't even order him to stop; he was still hopeful that Azriel would do it on his own. "Rhys, you had me monitoring that place all night", Azriel stepped closer, and a deep sigh left the high lord's lips as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "She has something really valuable, and now that so many eyes have been drawn to it... If bad hands take hold of it, Azriel, the war like no other will break".

What was that, then? Why it? Why not speak of it? Didn't he trust him enough to share? He was the spymaster, and these things were his concern. "Fine", Azriel waved a hand in front of himself, "Don't say it straight to my face. I'll figure it out myself", and with a harsh slam to the door, he was off.

"I need five lucky fellas, or ladies, for that matter", Myriam said with that usual smirk on her face. Hands clasped in front of her in excitement, making other girls giddy as well. Everyone had been so giddy. "Things will be changing from now on. If it all works out, you might be finding yourselves in between the luxury sheets every night moving forward", happy clapping filled the place, with girls holding onto one another as they cheered. Yet you didn't share that same amusement. There was no happy thrill in your veins. If anything, you hated this. Hated it all.

Most of the girls started to spread out. Walking towards the tables, they got ready at or just split into little groups to talk. "Y/N, a word", your eyes jerked up as you stepped forward quickly, "Mother Myriam", you breathed out. The older woman looked down on you. Making you feel so small. So unworthy. There used to be a time when you thought that there was warmth in her eyes when she looked at you. Now you were sure that you had imagined it.

"I don't have to remind you of your loyalty to me, do I?", she asked firmly, and you quickly shook your head. "Your gifts would be wasted elsewhere, my gem", Her long nail jabbed the skin beneath your chin, pushing your head up and scraping the delicate skin there in the process. "And I saved you, remember?", You nod once more, biting the insides of your cheeks, trying to keep your fear at bay. "It was I who sacrificed so much so you could live", Her palm came to rest on her chest, right above where her heart should have been. Should have. "Do your thing, darling, and don't disappoint me", she said through gritted teeth, suddenly pinching your chin harshly.

Azriel was watching it all again. The sound of the music, humming. The way your eyes shifted as the same greenish mist draped all over the place. The dim corner hid him perfectly. His shadows were all over the place; just tonight they had been blended so neatly in between every corner and each side that no one or any talk could slip past his knowledge.

Azriel listened to your voice, which surprisingly didn't reach him tonight. Had he imagined the beauty of it? No, it was beautiful. The most beautiful voice he had heard. It just didn't stop his heart tonight. He watched as those same greenish swirls twirled around a couple of guests seated in different parts of the room. Lulling them to the point of complete bliss. The spymaster frowned. He only saw five people surrounded by them. Why them? Why not the others? Then the girls from the stage quickly swirled toward the males. No heads turned their way. Their hands were on them the moment they got close. Smothering them with soft touches and nuzzling against them.

Then the room went so dark that even Azriel lost his sight for a moment, and when he could finally see, the five males were gone. So were the chairs. The crowd let out a satisfied sigh as if they had regained their power to breathe just then. The sound of the music suddenly started to fade, and the same set of females, now dressed in expensive lingerie, twirled around the tables. Azriel's eyes darted back to the stage. You were gone. What in the living moon had just happened? Where was the males he saw moments ago? Where were you? Why weren't you among the girls eager to sit on anyone's lap?

You lingered backstage tonight. Peaking through the drawn-out curtains as Sylia wrapped herself around no doubt another high bidder. The man pushed a handful of bills down her bra, and she batted her lashes so hard at him. You frowned. Why would anyone willingly do this? Myriam paid well as it was, and this? To be groped on all night long? You shouldn't care, in all honesty. They were all of age and allowed to do what they wanted, but still...

You turned to walk back to your room. Eager to enjoy the static sound of silence for a bit. None of the girls were returning early tonight. The place was packed. They will be there, draining them all raw. Myriam got her batch as well. So she wouldn't be by your door, barking for you to explain yourself. You did your part and earned some rest, and you were going to take full advantage of it.

The floorboard behind you creaked, making you swirl back, but the darkness of the backstage corridor made it hard for you to see anything. It had to be a rat or, well, anything. No one could enter this part of the building. You turned back around, only to be met with a big wall of shadows. Letting out a yelp, you staged back. Back hitting a solid surface. A wall? There was no wall there. Until a hand wraps itself around your throat, tightening enough to cut off air but not enough to break your neck,

"No, please", you choke out, your hands trying to take hold of the wrist, but it was so thick you couldn't even wrap both of your palms around it. "What the fuck is this place, huh?", the voice roared in your ear, making a cold shiver run down your back. "Please don't make me", You gasped for air in between every word, yet the grip around your throat didn't ease. "Where are those males now?", How did he know? How did he see that? No one was conscious enough to see or think clearly when that part of the performance came. A panic ran through your mind and body before you reached back, cupping the sides of the intruder's face before muttering, "I'm so sorry."

When Azriel finally opened his eyes, he felt as if he had been beaten to the pulp by a whole Illyrian male village. His mind felt hazy. Yet the coolness surrounding his body soothed the aches all over. Where was he before he fell asleep? Did he... Azriel suddenly tried to jerk up, yet he only managed to lift his head. His body seemed to be glued to the surface that he was lying on. Looking around frantically, he saw those same greenish shadows, and his mind quickly welcomed him with the knowledge of what had happened. Azriel followed you. He had you so close for a moment. He remembers the way his heart sped up when he inhaled your scent, and then you reached for him.

The tiny door opened up, and he watched as you nodded at something before flashing the person in front of you a fake smile and closing the door. Azriel began to move around frantically, and your head jerked his way. Shhh, don't move, and please don't scream", You put a finger to your lips, stopping to listen to the sound outside the door. Had you not told on him? Was Rhys not already fuming that Azriel had gotten caught?

"How did you take me out?", Azriel groaned, his eyes piercing yours. A light bruise was forming around your neck, which made a cold chill run down his spine. He didn't intend to leave a mark, and he didn't think that he pressed that hard to hurt you. Just slightly cut off the oxygen flow. "With my hands", you lifted both of your palms, looking at them. "Your hands? With those hands?", Azriel asked, and you quickly rolled your eyes. "Sorry, can we try not to be so sexist?" Azriel let out a frustrated growl as he tried to free himself. This all had to be a joke.

"Are they similar to my mist?", Your voice was almost a whisper, and Azriel looked up from where he had tried to pull a dagger from under his belt. One of his shadows was neatly placed around your palm, swallowing it all before plopping on the shell of your palm. "No, and I'm not here to answer your questions. Let me go." Your sad gaze looked back to the black creature before you twisted your palm, and Azriel slumped slightly, moving his arms and legs quickly to stop himself from falling.

"There is no way for you to get out of here now. Lights go out in...", You turned toward the tiny moon clock on your desk. "Twenty minutes. I'll walk you to the closest exit", "I don't need an escort", Azriel snarled, trying to take in as much of this space as he could because he was almost convinced this was the room his shadows had tried to seep into the previous night. "And I wasn't asking", you said, crossing your arms over your chest. "It's that or...", but you cut yourself off. Blinking a couple of times before turning away from Azriel.

Mother above, what was this place, and what were you all, weird creatures? "Sure, do your thing", Azriel said, earning one more glance from you. "So you will follow me?", you asked almost in disbelief, and Azriel wanted to laugh. Truly laugh at all of this nonsense. "As if you can't force me to do so", he said, your eyes growing big and your cheeks turning slightly pink as you lower your head.

It was probably the stupidest thing ever, but only now did you realize that you didn't even ask the stranger's name. You observed him while he was asleep. The way some of the messy curls had fallen onto his forehead. You had reached out to neatly smooth them back in, and the moment your fingers touched him, it felt like lightning had run through you. And then he woke up, and you realized where you had seen him before.

Your fantom hands had neatly smothered him to death the other night, and you had never been more mortified. You couldn't understand what had happened. The green, lulling mist was one thing but your phantom touche - what had triggered it? You had pulled away in time, but it's like something within you snapped. But he looked unharmed and unshaped today, so surely it didn't affect him.

You could feel his warmth behind you. It was strange how he had thrown a fuss that didn't suit his large frame one moment and then settled on following you the next. But you were glad that he did because if Myriam came across him... you weren't going to let that happen. He trusted you to help him, so you were going to get him out. Not to mention that it felt so surreal to have someone trust you. For the first time...

Rounding the last corner, you stopped quickly as the sound of gasping filled your ears. The male nearly ran into you as he too halted. You reached for his hand, subconsciously dragging him the other way. You wondered if you should have told him off for coming here in general. That he was one of the males the girls wanted to charm so much, but maybe he wanted to be charmed.

The moonlight that seeped through the door you had opened nearly blinded you. You quickly put a hand in front of your eyes as you stepped out, letting the male walk onto the dirty back street. "You're on your own from here", you said softly. "Just make sure...", but Azriel quickly cut in, "What did you say to me back then? I'm sorry?", Your brows scrunched as you tried to figure out what he meant. You didn't have enough time as he lunged forward, grabbing onto your head from both sides, saying, "I'm also sorry", you didn't manage to even take a breath before everything went black.

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All acotar writing taglist: @brekkershadowsinger @cityofidek @baebeepeach @lucyysthings @hideing @urfavbrunettebish @historygeekqueen @marina468 @courtofjurdan @bubybubsters

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you

[ravencoloredroses]

I Choose You

Nyx x Reader (Eris’ daughter)

Summary: Nyx and Eris’ daughter have always felt an attraction towards each other, even if they can never actually be together.

Word Count: 4,086

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: I made this to fill my forbidden fantasies between Nyx and Eris’ daughter, but if you want more from these characters, check out All That Matters! It gives a different story line for these two! Thanks for reading and as always, let me know what you think!!

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I suck in a breath as the strings on the back of my corset are pulled taut. Why I still have to wear corsets is beyond me, but I’ve learned to do what I’m told.

My father is High Lord of the Autumn Court. Which means as his daughter, there are specific rules I must follow and certain events I must attend.

Tonight we are attending an event at the Night Court, something about falling stars. The Night Court is where he is from. We’ve been in the same circles our entire lives, attending the same events and meetings. He’s absolutely perfect in every way, except he is the heir to the Night Court. A.K.A. my mortal enemy.

That’s a cringy way to put it but that’s exactly what it is. Our fathers only recently have started to get along with each other. I’ve heard stories of what my father did to the other High Lord's cousin Mor, but I’d rather not think about that right now. My father has shown me and my brother nothing but love my whole life, and I refuse to believe otherwise.

I hear my father’s signature knock on my door and I go over to open it.

“You look lovely darling.” He says pulling me in for a hug, careful not to mess up my hair. “Are you ready to go?”

I pull away and go to look in the mirror. My bright red hair is perfectly curled and is surprisingly soft for how much hairspray is in it. It’s in perfect contrast to my dark forest green dress. It has long sleeves and a modest neckline but still shows off the curves of my chest before it flares out around my waist. I’ve gone with a light makeup look today, letting my freckles shine through. My father meets my gaze in the mirror.

“I’m ready.” I say, spinning around to face him.

“Perfect.” He replies, grabbing my hand to winnow us away.

We arrive at the front door of a mansion and I see shadows shuffling around in the windows. It looks like there aren't a lot of people here, maybe they are coming later?

Just before my father knocks, the door swings open, revealing the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court. They are dressed in full black head to toe, but such a depressing color, it looks amazing on them.

“Welcome to our home! Happy Starfall!” They say, stepping aside to let us in, my father goes first and I trail behind.

The High Lord extends his arm and leads us to what I presume is the living room.

“Everyone is just through there.” He says pointing down a hallway. “Don’t be shy, I’m sure you’ll find some familiar faces.”

As I make my way down, I see him. Gods he looks amazing. Oddly, his suit is the same color as my dress. It was unintentional, but I couldn’t be more thrilled. He’s looking at me with an expression that says he’s excited to see me too.

We’ve never got to be alone with each other, there are always too many people around. After stealing a few glances, one of us gets pulled away. I can’t explain this feeling I have for him. I know we can’t be together. but that only makes me want him more.

“Will your brother be joining us as well?.” Rhys pulls my thoughts away from Nyx.

“No. Unfortunately my brother had other obligations tonight.” I lie. He’s sneaking away with his girlfriend that no one but myself knows about. I can’t help but feel jealous, he always gets everything I want. Our father has a ball and chain that ties me down, I can only go so far before he yanks me back.

That’s why everything about Nyx excites me, he’s got everything I want. He is everything I want.

I’m offered a glass of wine and gladly accept. I’m normally not a big fan of wine, but today I need a little bit of ‘liquid courage’ as they say.

Wandering around this mansion feels wrong, so I make my way towards the balcony. I peer out the window to make sure no one else is there and open the door.

I’m suddenly grateful my dress has long sleeves as I feel the cold air against my skin. I rest my arms on the railing to look out into Velaris. I hate to admit it, but this city is beautiful.

I hear the door behind me quietly open and close. I know who it is without having to turn around.

“It’s beautiful, don’t you think?” I ask when he stands next to me.

“It is, yes.” He replies. I look up to find him already looking down at me. I’m not the best at keeping eye contact, but I can’t bring myself to look away. His eyes are a striking blue and it makes my heart skip a beat to know that he’s looking at me. I glance behind me to make sure no one sees us together.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” He says, shifting a little closer to me. I turn slightly to face him and he places his hand dangerously close to mine on the railing.

“So have I.” I smile at him. We both look down to our hands as I slowly bring mine overtop of his.

“Do you- do you feel it too?” He asks. I look back to him questioningly.

“Feel what?” He looks shocked at first, but then sadness takes over his expression.

“Never mind.” He looks back to the sky. Feeling a bit bold, I place my hand under his chin and turn his head to look at me.

“Tell me, please. What do you feel?”

He looks down at my lips and back up to my eyes. I find myself doing the same. My boldness must have rubbed off on him because the next thing I know, he is pulling me close.

Then he presses his lips to mine. My shock only lasts half a second and then I’m kissing him back. I wrap my hand around his neck to play with his hair. He moans into the kiss, then his hands travel down my back, stopping at my waist.

I reluctantly pull back after a while for a breath of air and rest my head on his chest. He chuckles lightly, causing me to look up at him. “What?” I giggle back.

He shakes his head, still smiling. “I just can’t believe this is happening.” I pull him back down into a kiss.

“Me neither.” I whisper against his lips.

Moments later, I see a flash of light from the corner of my eye. I must have a confused look on my face because Nyx turns to face us towards the sky. “This is Starfall, my favorite holiday. Some believe they are spirits, traveling to return home. Others just see falling stars and are amazed by their beauty.” He pulls my back to his front, I lean my head back to rest on his shoulder. “What do you believe?”

He looks down and meets my gaze. “I’d like to believe that they are spirits, but I have no proof.” I nod and place a kiss on his chin.

“That sounds beautiful, Nyx. Absolutely beautiful.”

“I’ll have to go back soon, my family will wonder where I am.” He kisses my head and regretfully releases me. “I’ll see you in there.” Then he’s gone.

I stay there looking out at the sky for a couple more minutes. I just had my first kiss and it was with Nyx. I feel like I’m walking on a cloud, until I remember who we are and why we can’t be together. We have to figure something out. I need to be with him. Even if both of our families disown us. I can’t stay away any more.

Soon after returning to my father’s side he announces that we will be leaving. I look around for Nyx, but can’t find him. I mask my disappointment, say goodbye to everyone and thank Feyre and Rhys for inviting us over.

“The next ones at our place.” My dad says with a wink at Rhys and winnows us back home.

———

Two Months Later

Nyx’s POV

I give myself one look in the mirror and head downstairs to meet up with my family. As I come down the stairs, Uncle Cassian whistles at me. “Daaaamn, Nyxie Wyxie, who are you trying to impress?”

I laugh it off nonchalantly and move over to my parents.

“You look so handsome, Nyx. Don’t listen to Cassian, he’s just trying to rile you up.” My mother says. I give her a smile and sit down as we wait for everyone to get here.

It’s been over 2 months since I’ve last seen her and I couldn’t be more excited. I had hoped during Starfall that she felt the mating bond, but it doesn’t seem like she did. Even after we kissed, and my gods it was amazing. I don’t know if that was her first kiss, but it was mine and I couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off my face for 2 weeks. All I’ve been able to think about is her.

So yeah, Cassian, maybe I am trying to impress someone. She has no idea that she’s my mate and even if she did, her father would never let us be together.

I’ve known that she is my mate for almost 2 years, but I couldn’t do anything about it. I have a plan for tonight though, I just need everything to be perfect.

“Okay so here’s the plan.” My dad says, drawing my attention. “It’s a ball, so there will be lots of people dancing around. It will be easy to lose sight of each other, but under no circumstances should we let that happen. Understand?” He says sternly. We all reply with either a yes or a nod. “Great! Now let’s go.” He grabs onto my mothers hand and she grabs mine, winnowing us out.

Loud music fills my ears as people push past me to get to the ballroom, my family and I follow. Over the years coming to these events, I’ve been one of a handful of kids my age. Y/N included. She’s always been the first thing I look for when I get inside. Now as I look around, it takes me no time to find her.

She’s looking around the room as well and finally her eyes land on me. Gods she’s beautiful. Everything about her is stunning. She gives me a big smile and eyes the door to her left. I’m not good at hints, but that one’s pretty obvious, so I gave her a smile back and nod. She walks towards the door and I get a full view of her dress. Dark green, her signature color, with gold lace trims. Her auburn hair is in an intricate braid that’s resting on her right shoulder.

Once she’s inside the door, I count to 60. A full minute might be too much time to make her wait, but I need to be sure my family doesn’t see us together. When I get to 56, I start walking towards the door. I look around to find my parents chatting with other High Lords, Cassian and Nesta dancing together and Azriel standing with his back facing me. Perfect. I pick up my pace and open the door she went through.

It opens into what I assume is a storage room. As I close the door I feel tiny hands wrap around my waist.

“Hey handsome.” She whispers. I spin around in her grasp and put my hands around her waist.

“Hi beautiful.” I pull her close and lift her up to place a kiss on her lips. She moves to wrap her arms around my neck and plays with the back of my hair. I melt when she does this, I love it so much. I can’t control the moan that comes out as she arches her body into mine.

I move to kiss behind her ear, and now it’s her turn to moan. I would give anything to keep that sound on repeat in my head. She continues playing with my hair as I kiss my way down her neck. “Nyx.” She says in my ear in a serious tone, that causes me to stop and look at her face. Scared that I did something wrong, I take a step back. She grabs my hands and has a panicked expression on her face.

“Please don’t leave. I don’t want you to go.” She says. I release a breath and cup her face with my hands.

“Then I won’t.” I promise as I rub my thumbs along her freckle filled cheeks and kiss her again.

She places her head on my chest and I move my hand to cradle the back of her head. “I mean like, ever.” She says and looks up at me. “I don’t ever want to be away from you again.” She starts to cry, I quickly wipe away her tears and pull her closer to me.

I know I need to respond, but I can’t think of what to say. I don’t want to be away from her again either. These past 2 months have been nothing but agony. I want nothing more than to run away with her right now and never return. But we both know we can’t do that. Not yet, anyway. I lift her chin up with my finger and press a quick kiss to her nose which causes her to giggle, just like I wanted.

“I can’t promise you a future, no matter how much I wish I could. What I can promise is the present, and right now I don’t want to do anything but be here with you.” I whisper and she pulls me down into another kiss.

This one is more intense than our previous ones, more needy. I push her up against the wall and lift her into my arms. She wraps her legs around my waist and bites my bottom lip while her fingers begin unbuttoning my shirt.

She gets to the third when the door behind us slams open. I gently drop her to the ground and turn around so she can hide behind me.

“NYX!” I hear my father yell.

“Y/N!” Eris yells from behind him.

My father comes over to me to pull me away from Y/N. Eris rushes over to her and grabs onto her arm. She looks at me scared and it kills me that there’s nothing I can do about it. “Please dad, just let me explain.” She pleads to her father.

“You can explain at the house.” He snarls and winnows her away.

“Noooo!” I fight out of my fathers grasp to try and reach her before they are gone, but it’s too late. I fall to the ground where she was and put my head in my hands.

“Get up Nyx. This is ridiculous.” My father says. I whip my head around and give him the death glare he deserves. “She means nothing to you. She’s the daughter of Autumn, son, she is destined to be your enemy.”

My mom joins me on the floor and rubs my back. “Nyx it will be okay, you’ll find someone else.”

“I don’t want someone else! I want her!” I snap back.

“As long as I’m alive that is never going to happen.” My father hisses. I stand up and move to be face to face with him.

“SHE’S MY MATE!! Did you know that? No, of course you didn’t. She doesn’t even know yet and still she wants to be with me. Do you remember what it was like before mom knew? That’s how I feel right now. It would be nice to have my father be there for me. Why do you think I never told you?” I scream out, he gives me a shocked expression. I bolt past the rest of my family before anyone has a chance to stop me.

Y/N’s POV

I’m still sobbing as I lay on my bed 30 minutes later. When we winnowed home I ran upstairs ignoring anything my father had to say. His knock on my door now is quiet, almost fearful. Good. This conversation isn’t going to be easy for either of us.

“Sweetheart, can I come in?” He asks from behind the door. I don’t respond, hoping he will take the hint and leave me alone. Instead, he pushes my door open and sits beside me on my bed. He breathes a heavy sigh.

“I wanted to apologize.” He starts and I jolt upright. I was NOT expecting that.

“W-what?” I ask, not believing my ears.

He nods. “I wanted to apologize to you. I spoke with Rhysand a couple minutes ago and he told me that you two are mates and I……..” He keeps talking, but nothing he says is registering in my brain.

“M-mates? Nyx and I are mates?” I ask.

“Yeah- oh you didn’t- you didn’t know that?” He asks. I shake my head, still struggling to understand what is happening. He pulls me into a hug and rocks me back and forth.

“Oh I’m so sorry sweetheart. I- I thought you knew.”

“Wait. Does Nyx know?” I sit up and look at him, he nods. I’m thinking over our past interactions trying to put the pieces together. That’s what the pinching was. Was that what he was asking if I felt? Why didn’t he just tell me?

“I really am sorry. It’s just that Nyx is the heir of the Night Court and you are my only daughter. I didn’t want to see you together, but since you are mates we will make it work. I promise.” He says.

“Can I go see him?” I wipe away my tears with the back of my hand.

“Of course you can.” He gives me a smile and winnows me to the Night Court.

I wanted to make myself look presentable after all the crying I just did, but I’m running up to Nyx’s room as soon as we get there. I don’t know how I know which room is his, I just feel it. I stop abruptly outside of his door and I’m about to knock when it swings open.

Standing in front of me is the most stunning male I’ve ever seen. He looks like he’s been crying as much as I have. It breaks my heart to see him like that and based on the look he gives me, he feels the same.

I jump up into his arms and he walks us backwards into his room. He kicks the door closed behind us and walks over to his bed. Nyx gently sets me down on his mattress and kneels before me. I place my hands on either side of his face as he rests his hands over mine.

“We’re mates.” I sob out. He looks scared of what I’m about to say, so I give him a smile to try and ease his nerves. He gives me a shy nod.

“Is that okay with you?”

“It’s perfect.”

He releases a sigh and pulls me into his arms. “We need to talk about some things.” He says.

“I know.” I pull back to look at his beautiful face. “I choose you, Nyx. I will always choose you. I don’t care what our parents think. Even if we live in a shack in the middle of nowhere. I just want to be with you.”

He wipes away my tears and looks at me happily. “Are you sure? Because I could definitely find us a shack in the middle of nowhere.” He jokes while peppering my cheeks with kisses. He rubs away his tears with the back of his hand and gives a soft chuckle.

“What?” I ask, giggling at him.

“Nothing, I just am so fucking happy right now. I don’t really know what to do with myself.” He laughs, but his face changes to show that he’s nervous. “Could you stay tonight?”

“Do you have something I could borrow?” I ask, gesturing down to my very uncomfortable dress. He fumbles around in his closet before returning with an oversized t-shirt and some boxer shorts. Nyx hands them to me and shows me where his bathroom is, leaving me to change.

His shirt fits me like a dress, it comes down so far you can even tell that I’m wearing shorts. I step back into his bedroom and find that he’s already laying down in bed. He pats the space next to him and I giggle as I jump under the covers.

He pulls my back to his front and wraps his arm around my waist. He places a kiss on my shoulder and says “I choose you too. I will always choose you.”

I smile and snuggle closer. “I know.”

I struggle to keep my eyes open, not wanting to miss a second of this moment, but I can already tell that this is going to be the best sleep I’ve ever had.

2 YEARS LATER

I stand up from my vanity and head over to my closet to get dressed. Today is Nyx and I’s anniversary and he’s taking me on a date, but he won't tell me where we are going. The only thing he has told me is what to wear. I pick up the beautifully wrapped box and undo the bow to reveal the most stunning dark green dress.

I turn towards the mirror to see myself. Not only do I look beautiful, I feel beautiful. That feeling isn’t a familiar one, but it’s beginning to grow on me. I’m so distracted looking at myself that I don’t notice my mate walking up behind me.

He wraps his large hands around my waist and rests his chin on my shoulder. “You look gorgeous, darling. Are you ready to go?” He asks and spins me around.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, so let's go before I ruin this new dress you bought me.” I tease and give him a kiss. He chuckles and winnows us away.

We arrive in an empty ballroom and I look over at him questioningly. “I figured we should have another chance at attending a ball together.” He says shyly, taking my hand to lead me towards the dance floor. Suddenly, classical music begins to play and Nyx places a kiss on my knuckles.

“May I have this dance, My Lady?” He asks with a smirk.

“I’d be honored to dance with you, My Lord.” I reply and he pulls me close. My hand finds room on his shoulder as his find my waist. We slowly sway back and forth for a couple of songs before Nyx pulls back.

“Y/N, on this night 2 years ago I promised you something, and I told you that there was another thing that I couldn’t promise you. I’d like to change that tonight.” He begins and I already feel tears building in my eyes.

“Back then I said I couldn’t promise you a future, but that I could promise you the present.” He swallows and moves onto one knee before me, “Y/N Vanserra, I would be honored if you would allow me to promise you a future, our future.” He pulls out a small box from his jacket pocket.

“Will you marry me?”

I throw myself into his arms. “Yes!”

He picks me up and kisses me while we spin around. He grabs onto my left hand and slides the most beautiful ring onto my fourth finger. He pushes a strand of hair behind my ear, then wipes away my tears with his thumb. “I love you so much, Y/N.”

“I love you too.” I rest my face on his chest as we dance away the night. Our lives may not be perfect, but we chose how to live our lives. We chose each other.

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #azriel #cassian #feyre #mor #nesta #rhys #nyx #nyx x reader #eris vanserra #nyx archeron #vanserra reader #rhysand #sarah j maas #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf

[jinwoosungs]

{ 159 }

proud to be yours.

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

“do you mind turning on the news at 7pm? i have a press conference that i'm kind of nervous about...”

while you were in the midst of making breakfast this morning, jinwoo had come up behind you, casually wrapping his arms around your frame. he brings your back to the front of his chest while telling you his odd request. you giggle, and upon hearing such a delightful sound coming from your parted lips, jinwoo couldn't help but let out his own chuckle in response.

you bask in the vibrations felt with his laughter, swaying side to side with him as he kept his arms around your abdomen. jinwoo seemed to feel a bit playful when he presses several, audible kisses against your hair while gently nibbling at your earlobe.

the sensation of his teeth against your skin makes your laughter increase by a tenfold, with playful protests falling from your lips as you begged him to stop tickling you so much.

jinwoo finally relents after spending the next several minutes teasing and tickling you, keeping still as he gently turned you around so that you were now facing him. meeting his gaze, you play with the front of his suit and smile.

"what's this? you're dressed awfully nice for just a regular day at your guild. and really, i didn't peg you to be the nervous type in front of the cameras."

your boyfriend rolls his eyes at you, reaching down to grab a hold of your hand as he places it against his lips, kissing it momentarily before letting go. "sorry, i'm a little nervous about the conference promoting my guild. that's why... i'll feel so much better knowing that you're watching."

you let out a hum, smoothing out his suit once more while flicking away an imaginary piece of lint (just as an excuse to touch him more).

"if it means so much to you, then i guess i can watch your live conference." your voice was painted with feign disinterest, and you had to fight back a grin when jinwoo begins to pout at you. knowing that you were simply teasing him, he takes a hold of your hand once more before gently biting down at the side of your pointer finger, making you laugh even harder in response.

"alright alright, i relent. i promise i'll watch your conference with love shining in my eyes, only for you."

jinwoo flashes you a smug expression before leaning down to press a quick kiss against your lips. "much better."

his grey eyes look at the time settled on your digital clock, letting out a gasp before pressing one last kiss against your forehead. "damn, better leave now before i'm late!"

he takes quick strides toward the front door, "beru, watch over her until i return."

you felt something shift beside you, hearing jinwoo's most loyal shadow soldier's confident affirmation before disappearing back into your shadow. ready to lock the door for jinwoo, you saw him step out of your shared apartment before stopping.

"you promise to watch the news at 7?"

unable to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, you lean in to give jinwoo one last kiss before shooing him out of your shared home.

"quit worrying, i'll watch the news at 7, okay? now go, or else you'll be late!"

jinwoo's eyes shine with love for you before finally heading out, allowing you to watch his quickly retreating back as he left for work. only when he was gone did you finally go back into the apartment while shutting the door.

despite how you appeared almost nonchalant at the thought of his upcoming conference, a part of you was quite curious. why did it seem so important to jinwoo that you watch the conference live? surely, it was going to be the same as all the other handful of guild promotions you had seen in the past?

but you digress; sung jinwoo was not only a powerful hunter, but he had one of the most powerful guilds that existed in the entire world. and if he wanted your support, who were you to deny him of it?

especially since you had been together with him for close to 4 years now.

so you spent the day passing time, doing chores with beru's help while making plans for what you would make for dinner tonight. when there was nothing else to do, you would spend the rest of the time on the couch with beru, eating snacks while watching whatever drama was on.

as you trail your eyes toward the clock, you saw the time read 06:50pm and immediately changed the channel to the news. oddly enough, once you changed the channel, beru immediately disappeared back into the depths of your shadow.

"what? beru, you don't wish to watch your king speak?"

yet the former ant king does not answer you, simply staring at you from your shadow, purple eyes seeming to shine with excitement. as you were left pondering beru's strange behavior, the sight of ahjin guild's insignia from your periphery captures your attention. feeling your heart racing with anticipation, you grab your remote and turn up the volume.

hundreds of cameras flash while jinwoo stands at the podium, appearing confident as an almost cocky grin paints his features. seeing him standing so tall makes your heart melt in response for him.

"jinwoo, you've come such a long way... i'm so proud of you."

when he first started out as a hunter, he was meek and uncertain, lacking so much confidence while being labeled as the weakest. you remember those days you helped him heal while comforting him through his tears... remaining together with him not out of pity-

but because you genuinely loved him and wished to make him happy.

and now, you couldn't be happier at the jinwoo that stood before you right now, at this very moment.

"thank you everyone for coming to this important press conference... and allowing me the chance to speak my mind." jinwoo begins the conference, and you let out a dreamy sigh upon hearing his deep voice reverberating across the microphone.

murmurs were heard from the paparazzi, yet jinwoo remains unfazed, eyes flashing purple momentarily before returning back to its calm, grey hue.

"i want to take this chance to dissipate all the rumors surrounding my love life; specifically, the rumors pertaining to my supposed relationship with hunter cha hae-in."

your eyes go wide, feeling your heart beat faster in response as you leaned even closer to the t.v., practically on the edge of your seat as jinwoo kept talking. hunter cha hae-in being his partner in some high level raids had always been a sore subject for you, and despite how you always believed him when he said that she was nothing more than a mere friend and colleague to him, the fact that many news outlets labeled them as the power couple of the century did little to soothe you of your jealousy and heartache.

was this really happening?

was he finally announcing his relationship with you?

as if realizing your gaze settled on the screen, jinwoo flashes a kind smile to the cameras, taking a moment of silence that lasts for a few seconds before he begins to speak again,

"yes, i am not with hunter cha, rather... a woman who has been with me since the beginning. ever since i was a mere e-rank hunter..." he trails off while saying your name, and hearing him say those syllables like it was a reverent prayer made you smile in response, feeling happy tears falling from your eyes in heavy droplets.

he keeps his eyes on the cameras while leaning down to speak within the microphones. he says your name again along with the following words:

"i just wanted to tell you that i am proud to be yours, and that there is no one else i love in the entire world more than you."

after completing his statement, a mischievous smirk was seen settled against his features before he admits.

"also... sorry sarang, but this is actually a recording. you might want to answer the door right about now for your surprise."

the press conference then ends abruptly, flashing ahjin's guild insignia one final time before static was seen. your heart was pounding, forgetting all about the t.v. screen as you made a mad dash toward your front door, opening it-

only to see jinwoo directly in front of you, down on one knee for you as he reveals a gorgeous ring made from your favorite gemstone while decorated with tiny diamonds surrounding it. you gasp in response, feeling your tears fall even harder in response.

jinwoo doesn't meet your gaze just yet, still remaining with his head bowed while he spoke. "sarang, you and i both know that you are the absolute love of my life. you, who has been with me since i was barely a man- who had been with me when i was labeled the weakest in the world."

"you are the one that has seen me at my worst, so it's clear that you are the only one who deserves me when i am at my best."

jinwoo finally faces you then, with unshed tears shimmering within his glowing, purple eyes. "so please, will you do me the honors and marry me?"

you were filled with emotions now, unable to even speak as you could only manage to give him a nod with the tears still streaming down your face.

"y-yes, oh jinwoo, yes! i-i'll marry you!" you manage to tell him while letting out deep breathes of air, trying to calm down, but struggling miserably.

he smiles brightly at you, standing back to his full height as he takes the engagement ring outside of its box, sliding it against your left ring finger while letting out a shaky sigh.

"it's a perfect fit..." you notice the way jinwoo's breath hitches, and you knew that he was doing all he could to not cry, making your heart melt in response.

letting out a sigh of his name, you stand on the tip of your toes, reaching his lips in a sweet kiss. you bask in the way jinwoo's lips perfectly slot against yours, allowing your now fiancé to wrap his arms around you in a tight manner, feeling grateful to be able to share the rest of your days with him.

a.n. - lmao alternate title to this story would be 'when he doesn't screw up his proposal and leaves the ring in his other coat / suit.' 😂

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x you #solo leveling x reader #solo leveling #sung jinwoo #jinwoo sung #.stories

[historiaxvanserra]

hate fuck with Eris x reader pls!

HATE FUCK | ERIS VANSERRA

18+ please bitches. It's porn with minimal plot.

Warnings: enemies (ish) to lovers, established relationship, sort of dub-con (not really).

also i know the prompt was hate fuck but for some reason it came out more like two idiots in love but no one wants to admit it. don't judge me.

Sapphire skies melt into a darkening indigo as the last rays of sun sink below the backdrop of The Forest House and the sound of gentle orchestral music is a symphony in the crisp Autumn air.

The sea of dancing bodies inside the main hall glitter like a jewel toned wave as the chandeliers light kisses the Ladies' tiaras and dresses adorned in crystals.

From the outside looking in, this is a world away from the home you had grown up in. The Windhaven camp had not been kind to you, a half-breed woman of low birth.

Had Rhysand's mother not taken pity on you, this life would have been little more than a fever dream; the opulent dresses, and expensive wines, decadent parties and indulgent companions.

It may be beautiful but there is no denying the ostentation of it all. All of this grandeur and ceremony when the common folk still want.

Still suffer and starve while the aristocracy live in a world where hedonism is revered and indulgence is praised.

You imagine none of these people have ever known what it truly is to want.

Before you are able to abandon yourself to the thought your attention falls onto the figure emerging from the main doors.

They're swathed in shadow and from your place against the fountain you can just about make out that it is a Male who descends the steps with an otherworldly grace. He's tall and broad. And the strands of his unbound hair billow in the wind behind him in a silken drape.

As the figure stalks through the grounds and rounds the corner at the fountain he is bathed in the golden-hued faelight from the patio.

Eris Vanserra.

He walks with purpose towards you and as he falls into view you can't help but admire the way his skin shines like opal in the moonlight, or the way his face, half-shadowed, seems to hold some dark and ancient knowledge.

He's beautiful in a way that reminds you of old Gods, long forgotten. It's a strange and harsh type of beauty. And you hate him for it.

He has the kind of face that could bring cities to their knees and he knows it.

Eris Vanserra carries his beauty like a burden; he's all arrogance and self-loathing. A tempting oxymoron. And you hate him for it.

"Did no one tell you it's in poor taste to abscond from a party before your hosts?" The Autumn Prince sneers, furrowing his brow as he takes you in.

You hate him.

"Clearly you people know very little of good taste," You retort, digging you heel into the dirt beneath your barefeet and tilting your chin in defiance.

Eris eyes you carefully, a small smirk ghosting his face. His painfully beautiful face.

Why does he have to be so damned ethereal? And fierce. It's perverse and wholly confusing.

"And what is that supposed to mean, love?" he asks in feigned courtesy as he inclines his head towards you.

You hate him.

"Do you know that for one of those pretty dresses," You say pointing through the large window into the ballroom that glitters ruby and topaz, "you could afford to feed an entire village?.

Eris' broad shoulders visibly stiffen at the venom in your tone as you turn your gaze back onto him.

"I didn't know that," he swallows thickly. Perhaps learning to finally swallow some of his pride.

"Of course you didn't," you laugh bitterly, "you have never known what it is to go without."

"To be left wanting."

The laugh your words tear from him lights a fire in you, that signature louche quality he has to him. Total indifference. Tainted with something else. Something dark and base. It burns you in the most masochistic sort of way.

You hate him.

"Believe me, little girl," he spits, taking one long stride towards you so that his chest is inches from yours, "I know what it is to want."

He's half-breathless as he turns his darkening amber eyes upon you.

Gods, he looks like divine in this light. Like some sort of fallen angel. Ephemeral and cruel.

"And what do you want, Eris?" You eye him carefully, the rise and fall of his chest and the sheen of sweat that coats the exposed planes of skin under his shirt.

The way he looks at you then is enough to bring you to your knees. He moves like a predator, silent and resolute and his eyes glint against the black. Wild and dark.

"I want," He rasps as he cages you between strong arms, "You." his breath is hot as it fans your face.

Heat coils in your stomach and spreads through you like a wildfire.

"I hate you." You remind him.

Eris chuckles darkly, taking your chin between his thumb and index finger and forcing you to look at him.

The air is laden with the smell of him. Sandalwood and birch. Stained darker by the scent of his arousal.

"and yet," He whispers against the shell of your ear, like it is a secret shared between two lovers.

"You want me too."

His kiss is harsh and just a little painful, all teeth and tongue as he fights for dominance. His hands rest on your hips, fingers brusing the tender flesh beneath.

He wants to mark you. Wants to leave behind the remnants of his desire. To remind you of who you belong to. Belong with.

Your hands find purchase on his shoulders and as he deepens the kiss they become entangled in his long auburn hair.

The sound that leaves him is something akin to a growl. It's dark and animalistic. Claiming.

He tears his mouth from yours and you're left breathless and aching for him.

The way his teeth come to graze your neck feels like sin. And you find yourself begging. For release. For him. You're not entirely sure.

You had sworn you hated him but when his large hands come to rest on the exposed skin of your thigh you're not entirely sure where the line between love and hate began to blur.

Eris' laugh is cruel and taunting as his hands play with the hem of your pretty dress.

It shines like quartz every time the clouds clear and the crystal refracts in the moonlight.

"I wonder how many villages I could feed with this, hm?". Eris whispers to you as one hand continues his ascent up your exposed thigh and the other begins to pull at the restricting fabric.

For a moment he suffices to bunch the fabric at your waist but when the tight material reaches the apex of your thighs you find it constricting and unhelpful.

The tearing of fabric fills the night air followed by a sharp inhale of breath as Eris lifts you from the ground, your back slamming into the stone wall with an uncomfortable pressure.

"You ripped my favourite dress!" You complain, your hand flying to steady yourself against Eris' solid form as he holds you in his bruising grip.

"I'll buy you a hundred more," He promises against your lips, his teeth nipping at the sulk of your lower lip, "and for every one, I'll feed a hundred villages."

His promises are not empty ones. This you know. You and Eris have been doing this dance for longer than you care to admit.

You learned early on that there is a fine line between love and hate and with Eris that line is one crossed frequently. With reckless abandon. It is a line you crossed willingly, and you would do so again, in an instant because--

"Just let me have you." Eris' urgent hands finally hit their mark at the apex of your thighs, rubbing slow circles through the thin material of your panties.

"You have me," You remind him drawing him into a kiss, much more ardent and longing than the previous biting "so take me."

Wordlessly Eris lifts you against the wall once more, the gritty surface a cruel juxtaposition against the smooth expanse of your back.

Angling your hips as he frees his aching cock from his riding pants you moan into his mouth as he pulls gently at your lower lip.

His hot breath against your face, the heat building in your stomach from the ministrations of his deft fingers is of little consequence when you feel the thick tip of him pressing against your entrance.

"Fuck, love." Eris voice is a low growl in your ear as he sinks into you, your walls fluttering around him like a velvet vice when you feel him pressing against that sweet spot deep inside of you.

"So good for me," he coos as he thrusts harshly into you. His hips digging into yours with such force that causes your whole body to shake as he resumes those slow, torturous circles on your clit.

"I hate you," You remind him. You remind yourself.

"I hate you too," The way he says it is loaded with something else, something hidden. All the words you could not say.

Eris sets a brutal pace as he fucks into you, his breaths coming in sporadic succession as he nears his own release.

You feel your own imminent orgasm as it begins to wash over you. Eris brushes a stray hair away from your face as he holds your weight in his strong arms as he continues his assault on your aching cunt.

"That's it pretty love," He whispers, his words simple yet filled with something akin to adoration and much too far from the usual menace that marks his words, "cum on my cock."

Eris' encouragement is all the permission you need as you give into the wave of euphoria that washes over you like a tidal wave. The world blurs at its edges as Eris fucks you through your orgasm, chasing his own release.

"I hate you," You say airily, biting into the skin of his neck in a futile attempt to muffle the sounds of your pleasure as it breaks apart in your mouth.

Eris comes with a thunderous moan that pulls at your heart in a way that terrifies you. The feeling of his seed spilling out of your pulls you back to reality.

Eris laughs once more bringing you into another burning kiss. Only this time he is more deliberate and tender with you.

"I hate you too."

#eris vanserra #acotar x reader #acotar #eris x you #eris x reader #eris vanserra x you #eris acotar #eris headcanons #eris vanserra x reader

[wintaerbaer]

in between (ksj)

summary: It's nights like this that are embedded into your memory—your face fitting perfectly in the crook of his neck, his chin resting on top of your head, your arms and legs thoroughly tangled together.

pairing: Seokjin x Reader

rating: all ages

genre: established relationship au

word count: 1.8k

warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, heavy angst, mentions of traumatic pregnancy/labor if you squint

a/n: this was originally a small piece i wrote for a class about a decade ago, which i then adjusted into a fic for a fandom that's no longer around. since i've never been able to get it out of my head, i figured it'd be fun to revise and re-release it again! dedicated to @btsborahaee who is apparently the angst demon that possessed me when i wrote it <3

MASTERLIST

He never fails to amaze you.

You lean in the doorway, watching as he cradles the baby to his chest and croons soft phrases of love into the girl's ear, trying to get her to fall back asleep. He's shirtless, flannel sleep pants slung low on his hips, bare feet pressed to the hardwood floor.

He's never looked more handsome in his life.

After a couple minutes of the baby's incessant cries, he moves to the rocking chair by the window in surrender. The moon turns his face a silvery white, highlighting the ruffled hair and stubbly shadow of a beard. You’ve never seen him with a considerable amount of facial hair before, and you don’t yet know how you feel about it.

He rocks back and forth gently—the chair creaking under him and the baby still whimpering pitifully in his arms. He doesn't see you as you watch him calm the child, whispering now. His voice is so low that it's hard to hear, but you definitely pick up something that sounds like "So pretty. Just like mommy."

Amazing how he can make you smile even when he doesn't intend to.

His quiet whispers mollify the baby faster than would seem possible, and it's not long before the girl has drifted off to sleep, tiny face pressed into his bare chest. He continues to gently sway in the chair, staring at the wall, and when he shifts his head, you can see that his eyes are shining.

The sight of his tears has you backing out of the doorframe and padding down the hall, feeling sick to your stomach. The walls around you are so horrifyingly blank and merely add to your growing anxiety. You wonder how long they'll stay that way.

You take the stairs down to the living room, not knowing what to do except make yourself scarce. You pace around the room, dodging all sorts of new things for the baby—items that haven't found a place in your home yet and are therefore just sitting in the living room until they do. Somebody really should make an effort to clean it up, but no one has the time.

It's eerily quiet down here. The only sounds are the soft ticking of the clock in the kitchen and the occasional creak from the rocking chair upstairs. Moonlight filters in through the window, casting a glow upon the room that should be calming; instead, it highlights all of the objects haphazardly strewn about the couch and the table and the floor, and the overall effect is nothing short of creepy.

You take a seat on the couch, right next to a stuffed elephant that stares up at you with beady eyes—a gift from one of your aunts or some distant cousin. You run your hands over the tiny thing, wondering what its fate will be. A future favorite of your daughter's perhaps? Or will he be condemned to a life in one of the closets? His melancholy gaze seems to ask you why you even care in the first place, and truth be told, you don’t really know. Maybe you just identify with him at the moment, with a fate so unpredictable and currently feeling as though you’re stuck in some kind of middle ground where you’re neither homeless nor sheltered.

The sound of a door closing startles you from your thoughts. Slipping across the study and into your bedroom, you find Seokjin lying on the bed wide awake, his eyes still glistening. Crawling in next to him, you press yourself into his side, stretching your body over warm skin. It's nights like this that are embedded into your memory—your face fitting perfectly in the crook of his neck, his chin resting on top of your head, your arms and legs thoroughly tangled together. You lie together in near silence, his ragged breathing the only thing disturbing the quiet. You squeeze closer, willing him to sleep just as he had done with your daughter moments ago.

"I love you, Y/N," he whispers as his eyes finally slip shut.

"I know," you tell him. "I know."

You’re sitting in the kitchen when you hear the front door open and shut.

"Honey, I'm home." His voice drifts to you from the foyer, the first lines of a ritual you had created in jest during college when you’d return to your shared apartment after days of classes.

"Hello, dear. How was work today?" is the traditional response you call back.

"Just swell, sweetheart. Just swell." He'd usually laugh after that, unable to contain his boyish amusement over how cheesy it is, but when he delivers the line today, his voice is soft and sober.

He hesitates by the stairs, leaning ever so slightly against the railing and kneading his forehead with the heel of his hand. He takes in the sight of the kitchen with all of the food that is lying around, practically covering every surface. Sighing, he moves to the sink, pressing his hands against the counter.

You stare at him, not knowing what to do, when his legs suddenly buckle and he's sliding down to the floor, shaking with sobs.

You leap to your feet, rushing over to where he's sitting up with his back against the counter and his knees pulled up nearly to his chest. Wrapping your arms around him, you brush your lips against his forehead, his ear, whispering anything and everything and just begging him to stop. Because, dammit, Jungkook and Hobi are right upstairs taking care of the baby and you don't want anyone else to see him like this. Not when he's been doing so well.

It's not long before you find that your own cheeks are wet, tears stinging your eyes. You hate having to see him this broken, hate even more how there's nothing you can do to help, how all you can do is hold him and pray that he'll get better.

Roughly ten minutes pass before his friends come bustling down the stairs to see what the commotion is. Even they can't help crying as they join you on the floor, offering hugs and words of comfort as he continues to break down.

Another half hour passes before he finally manages to compose himself and goes upstairs to see your daughter.

You huddle outside the bedroom door, listening to Seokjin read the girl a bedtime story. Your daughter is so incredibly quiet, soaking up the words like a dry sponge. Occasionally she'll ask a question about the story or one of the characters, but for the most part, she doesn't say a word—she barely even moves.

When the story is over, you hear your husband shifting around, closing the book and putting it back on its shelf in the corner.

"Daddy?" comes your daughter's voice after a moment.

"Yeah, baby girl?"

"Did Snow White and the prince live happily ever after?"

You hear a creak as he sits back down on the side of the bed. "Yeah, sweetie, they lived happily ever after. They got married and had a beautiful little girl just like you." There's a squeal as he leans down to tickle her.

Once your daughter's laughter has subsided, she asks another question, "Daddy, did you and mommy live happily ever after?"

There is a pregnant pause where everything in the world seems to go completely still in anticipation of his answer.

"Yeah," he eventually says, voice cracking ever so slightly. "Yeah, we did."

The sound of rustling sheets fills the void as he properly tucks her in. "You need to get some sleep now. You have a big day tomorrow."

"School!" she squeals.

"That's right, baby. School."

"Is mommy going to visit me tonight since it's a big day tomorrow?"

You hear him take a ragged breath. These questions must be taking their toll on him. "Mommy visits you every night, sweetie."

"Because she loves me?" your daughter asks.

"Yeah, because she loves you."

There's a pause as the girl thinks this over. "I love mommy too, daddy."

"I know, baby. Me too." And he must be crying now because there's a telling catch in his voice.

But that's okay because there are tears streaming down your own face.

You peek your head in the doorway, watching him press a kiss to the girl's forehead before he stands, turning off the light as he leaves the room. When he passes you, you examine his face--dark shadows that weren't there five years ago lurk under his eyes and his cheekbones are more prominent than they used to be. But still, you’re proud of the fact that he hasn't completely let himself go.

Once he's gone down the hall and disappeared down the stairs, you move into your daughter's room and sit on the edge of the bed, just as Seokjin had done only moments before.

The girl is completely buried under the covers with only her head sticking out. She's a tiny little thing, with her father's dark eyes and her mother's smile. And she's smart. She's so incredibly smart, with one hell of an imagination to match.

You run your fingers over your daughter's face, her hair, but not touching—no, never touching. You can't. You simply can't. Can't touch; can't feel. Most days, you don't know if this existence that you’re living is a blessing or a curse. Because you get to see your little girl grow up, but you do this knowing that your child will never know you—she'll never know the mother who died giving her life. And on top of that, you also bear witness to every second of your husband's grief.

But right now, looking down at your daughter, you just can't regret getting to see her grow older.

You brush your lips against the girl's forehead, her nose, her cheek. Then you make yourself pull away, whispering a "Good luck tomorrow, baby" before you stand up, taking note, as you always do, of the plush elephant that's sitting on the nightstand and bathing in moonlight.

And then you leave, taking the familiar trip downstairs and into your bedroom (because no matter what it will always be your bedroom) where your husband is lying on the bed, eyes wide open. This, too, has become a sort of ritual for the two of you, even though he doesn't really know it. And yet, he never seems to be able to sleep until you’re cuddled into his side.

"I love you, Y/N," he always says right before he closes his eyes.

"I know," is your reply. "I know."

a/n: sorry :') please remember to like/reblog!

#bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagines #bts angst #bts fic #bts fanfic #seokjin x reader #seokjin x you #seokjin angst #seokjin fic #seokjin fanfic #seokjin imagines