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pellucid-constellations · 3 months

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Reversal

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: When protecting your mate brings out a side you swore to keep hidden, you have to deal with the consequences.

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings: Violence, injury, angst, some self-deprecation

a/n: This is loosely based off of this request <3 thank you for sending it!! I hope you enjoy and I also love comments!! ♡

Masterlist ♡

In the heat of battle, there was kindness.

That was a ludicrous sentiment, and Azriel had reminded you of that many times, but it was something you believed in.

War was hot flames and blood and the clashing of metal, but it was also reassurance and soft hands and wisps of healing light. If war was cruel and it stole, you were kind and you gave.

The first war had been a teacher, guiding you to your role. The second war had been reinforcement, showing you what it meant to be the Night Court’s healer. And then you thought you were done—done with attempting the impossible.

But then Beron took a stance that no one could foresee, and you were not done.

With the soldiers of Autumn Court came an impenetrable heat, and it was your job to quell the scars that plagued Rhysand’s frontlines. You were the one set to heal the broken and save the damned, and you were the one set to protect the court with kindness.

It was awful work.

Azriel was always quick to agree.

Your mate hated these wars more than you did, and that was an almost impossible feat. Azriel was never close to you in the throes of battle. There was always a cluster of shadows on your trail, but he could never be there himself. You knew it ate away at him, distracting him when he was supposed to be zeroed in on the enemies.

But, you had reminded him as he held you close in the tent the night before, you hadn’t died yet, and maybe you’d never die from a war. Maybe you weren’t destined to.

He had only pulled you closer at that, pressed his lips to your head as his wings hid you from the camp that made far too much noise. He held you so tightly you felt his pulse on the skin of your cheek and you pretended you were back at home.

Because although you were the kindness within the war, you wanted to go home.

Gods, did you want to go home.

Flames raced along the outskirts of the blue shield that had enveloped you the moment your knees hit the ground beside the unconscious Illyrian soldier. They pushed and pried, trying to force their way past your mate’s protection as you trained your attention on the wound marring the soldier’s skin.

Azriel would protect you.

He always did, even when he couldn’t be beside you.

“I’m… going to die,” the male beneath your hands huffed out, a line of sweat at his brow.

“No,” you assured. “No, you’re going to be okay. I just need a few more moments.”

You couldn’t see what was making him so assuredly pessimistic—couldn’t see the way the flames were creating cracks in the shimmering blue light. They were covering every inch of the shield, making the air in the circle red with heat and promised death.

You noticed a moment too late.

It was unbearable, the suffocating fire. You threw your body over the soldier as if that would make a difference, arms and shoulders wrapping over his head as your leathers scorched and your lungs burned. The male screamed, his legs thrashing. You wanted to replicate the sound, but you were kindness. Kindness did not scream.

It ended as abruptly as it began, flames dissipating into blackened embers. You felt a crack in the bond during the disappearance, Azriel’s fear and rage embedding itself into the golden thread connecting you. That, too, ended as abruptly as it began; Azriel shut his side down, saving you from the ravaging emotions.

You whipped around to search for him, eyes up towards the sky. You found him quickly, with a practiced eye. You’d looked for him in every room you’d entered for almost your entire life. It was easy to find Azriel. As easy as breathing.

That breath was stolen from you the moment your gaze locked on his form.

He was falling.

He had charged—alone—into the group that was to blame for your injuries, for the flames that had almost consumed you, and now he was falling.

He was falling and he wasn’t conscious.

You think you screamed, but that couldn’t be right. Screaming led to panicked patients, and panicked patients led to worse outcomes. Your screams were not welcomed in war.

You tugged at the bond, desperate to rouse him into saving himself. But it was no use; he was plummeting to the ground and there was nothing you could do.

When you looked back on it later—when it fizzled as dim memories within your dreams—your actions would become more clear. You’d remember that you stood up, and then the ground shook. That the years of training required to be a field healer included so much more than twisting bursts of soothing light.

And something within you had awoken that day, the moment you saw wakefulness leave Azriel’s being… something that was not kindness or giving or calm.

It was rage.

A piece of you recognized that Azriel had been caught. Cassian’s wings had most likely ached from the speed with which he dove to catch his brother, but both members of your family were safe. Harmed, but safe. Not dead.

Your rage didn’t care.

Something deep within you snapped, and light was pouring from the tips of your fingers. It wasn’t the same hue that healed. It was darker; a hungry red.

The enemies from the sky fell.

When those on the ground saw the damage you had inflicted, you became their target. And fine, let them, because this power coursing through you had no sense of who was to blame for your mate’s injuries. To you, everyone was a threat. Everyone was to blame.

With a practiced grace, tainted by years of disuse, you attacked. The scene was cloaked in a red hue. Fae after fae charged at you, but it was all fruitless. You felt pain, injuries covering your skin, but it was all muted by the overwhelming desire to end this. To somehow soothe the ache you felt from watching your mate fall.

Time became obsolete.

Morals became blurred.

You were a machine, a complete reversal from the position you had assumed all those years ago.

“Y/n!”

Through the fog, a scream.

“Y/n, stop!”

Another far away call.

“It’s done. It’s over. Stop. Look at me and stop.”

Something was pressing against your cheeks. It was firm and grounding and the focus returned to your gaze.

“That’s it. Look at me, y/n.”

Cassian. When all was righted, Cassian stood in front of you, his posture hunched as he leaned down to catch your eyes. He was dirty and his leathers were torn, but all you could focus on was the panicked frenzy marring his face.

When he spoke next, the words were no longer accompanied by the incessant buzzing that had invaded your ears. “You with me, sweetheart?”

Your lips felt numb.

“Give me a nod or something. Az will kill me if you go catatonic on us.”

“I’m okay,” you whispered, voice rough. “Azriel, he—”

“He’s here.” Cassian turned your head in his hands, showing you the shadowsinger propped up against a dirt bank. “That self-sacrificing idiot is fine.”

He wasn't fine, not really. His breaths were labored and his hand clutched at his side with a shaky grip. You wanted to move towards him, to try and take away some of his pain, but your legs were stuck. Everything was stuck and you couldn't move.

It didn’t matter, anyway. When your eyes trailed up from his body, the look on his face would have deterred you from even speaking to him. He looked… horrified. Hazy eyes blinked across the battlefield—the one you decimated—and they shut just as fast. They squeezed shut, clamping down so tightly it looked like it hurt. Azriel seemed to shiver at the carnage.

When your chest heaved at the realization, your body seemed to shut down. You felt your legs give out first, heard the curse shot out by Cassian, and felt the hands pressing to your back as your mind gave way to unconsciousness.

When you woke, the heaviness in your body was not entirely physical.

There were, of course, a few broken bones. You could feel the aches and pains from battle and knew that you hadn’t gotten away unscathed, but that was all manageable. Fae healing was fast-acting and you would be fine within a few days.

But it wasn’t the physical pain keeping you from opening your eyes.

It was the reminder of Azriel’s face.

The disgust written into his features.

You were supposed to be his antithesis.

When Azriel came home at the end of a day, he was supposed to be comforted by your warmth and softness. You were kindness and light and graceful silence. You were a healer, granting life, and he was an angel of death.

Before you had met him, that had not been the truth. You were a healer, yes, but you were a field healer. The continent you hailed from prided themselves in being both the saviors of life and the bringers of death. You were to be the judgment—deciding who received which fate.

But then you met Azriel, and with him came balance. With him came the need to be only one part of you.

So you hid away the side of you meant to be cruel. You trained softly in self-defense only and you shied away from the instinct to protect with fists and power.

And you loved the way he looked at you because of it.

You loved the soft eyes and silent laughs; the tender way he held you and the sweet way he brushed his lips to your innocent skin. He coveted you, protected you, and you were the one he sought comfort in.

You were his mate, his equal, his mirror.

You wished your eyes could remain shut forever.

“Will she wake up soon?”

Mor, you could deduce.

“The healers said there was no way to know. She… Gods, Mor, you should have seen her out there. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Cassian.

“I wish I had been there. It sounds like she kicked some ass,” Mor smugly replied.

Cassian huffed out a laugh. “That’s an understatement.” A pause. “It was more than just that though. It was like she was using her healing in a different way. She cleared the field in front of her. There’s no way that just… came out of her.”

“You know what the mating bond does to people. What it can unleash.”

“I get that. But it looked natural for her. It looked practiced.”

You heard Mor sigh. A hand brushed against the top of yours, taking it into a soft grip.

“I just hope she's alright,” Mor murmured.

“She has to be.”

When you awoke next, it was alone. You had been fighting sleep for what you assumed to be the better part of a day and decided that was enough. Eventually, you had to face the consequences of your actions.

You swung your feet over the side of the cot, feeling surprisingly rested and well despite the few pains shooting along your limbs. You took hesitant steps towards the mouth of the tent, propping open the canvas billowing in the wind before taking a more confident step onto dirt and rocks.

“Good, you’re up.” It was Rhysand who spotted you first. “Just in time for our debrief.”

The casualness with which he spoke left you disoriented. The High Lord only blinked at you, a small, impassive smile on his face as he waited for you to take the arm he had outstretched. Your mouth parted as if to speak, but nothing was coming out.

“I know you’re recovering, y/n, but I need my best at this meeting,” he encouraged, elbow jutting towards you. “Come. We’ll speak and then we’ll return to Velaris. We will go home.”

Your reservations were odd when you compared them to the understanding on Rhys’s face. He wasn’t upset or disgusted or angry; the High Lord’s smile turned up at the corner of his mouth and his expression spoke of sympathy, as if he already knew about the turmoil raging within you.

“Azriel—”

“Is there already. Unhappy, but there.”

Unhappy.

Of course.

Who would want a mate that ravaged battlefields?

Your lip quivered, but you bit it to stop the emotion from showing. “Right,” you nodded, and you let Rhys guide you to the large tent in the middle of the camp.

It was full; you had to push your way in to meet the rest of your court. Azriel was the only one seated amongst them, and you could tell by the twitch of his wings that he had been placed in that chair begrudgingly.

Your eyes skated across his for a fleeting moment. You were quick to turn away, focusing on the material of Rhys’s jacket as he stopped in the corner of the tent.

There was a faint tug on the bond, muted by the wall you had erected. You thought about letting it down, but you were scared of what you’d feel. Azriel was a good male; good enough to attempt to hide the revulsion he was feeling.

But you’d be able to parse it out the second you dropped your mental shield.

You kept your eyes forward as the high lords spoke around the tent. The large table in the center was covered in maps and wooden pegs and you flowed in and out of focus as treaties and strategies and plans all mingled in the space.

Another tug at the bond.

Another shield placed around your mind.

“And what of her?”

Rhys took a step in front of you, covering half of your body from view. “What of her?” he countered, a calmness in his tone as he replied to the High Lord of Spring.

Tamlin raised a brow. “Are we just supposed to ignore that your ‘healer’ is a danger to all of our courts?”

“You are a fool,” Feyre spat out, hands splayed on the table.

“She is a weapon,” Tamlin seethed, finger jutting out towards you.

You flinched, and the room exploded in shadows.

You heard several gasps, a few weapons being unsheathed, but over everything was the low rumble of Azriel’s voice.

“Don’t speak of her as if she is an object,” he threatened. “Don’t speak of my mate at all.”

“Reign in your dog,” Tamlin spat, but that only spurred on the hostility in the room.

A chair screeched back, crashing against wood as loud, reverberating footsteps echoed in the otherwise silent tent. No one made a sound. Some of the shadows gave way, retreating to wind around your body, and you were met with the scene across the table.

“I will show you a weapon, High Lord,” Azriel promised, chest-to-chest with Tamlin.

The sight made you sick.

Azriel was a protector. You were used to that truth. But before, things were different. Before, he was protecting you while you were still pure, still innocent in his eyes.

Now, it was after. After you had killed and killed for him. After he had hurtled to the ground and awoken to find the death his mate had caused. And he was still protecting you, defending you, despite it all.

Were you really worth this?

You were worth it before.

Now, you weren’t so sure.

On shaking legs, you shouldered your way out of the tent, breath caught in your lungs. The ringing from the battlefield returned to your ears, blocking out the conversations starting in your absence. The shadows stayed with you, twirling with alarm and flowing through your hair in an attempt to gain your attention.

A weapon. That explained you well—the ability to save lives and take them away. If they all considered you a weapon, where would you go? By Tamlin’s logic, being locked away would be best.

Maybe that was best.

You wondered what Azriel would think was best—where his weapon of a mate belonged. Because it was certainly no longer in the calmness of the home you shared.

Your shaking continued as you brought your hand up to your forehead. Azriel did that sometimes, when you were panicked or anxious or scared. He’d place his scarred touch on your forehead and lean your head up to grant you more air. He’d follow with his lips and then pull you into his arms, but you knew none of that was coming.

So you leaned forward and felt the sobs creeping up your chest to take the place of air. Your knees fell to the dirt and you collapsed into the feeling of your family, love, life changing forever.

Until the shadows retreated.

You glanced up when their swishing stopped and found another pair of knees pressing to yours in the dirt. The leathers covering them were fresher than yours, cleaner, but they were also wrapped in bandages and stabilizers that matched the ones along their ribs and stomach.

Another crane of your neck and Azriel was leaning down to catch your gaze, mouth parted. Maybe he’d been speaking for a while; the buzzing made it impossible to know.

“Are you alright, my love?” he asked, low and so, so concerned. Much more concerned than you deserved. Much more gentle than he had spoken in the tent.

And all you could think to say was, “I’m sorry,” and you sobbed out the words with gut-wrenching sincerity.

“I’m sorry, Azriel. I’m so sorry. I never meant—I never wanted this—“

Azriel shushed you, his fingers working to guide your hair away from your face. You felt selfish for needing that from him as his body was bandaged and his wings were wrapped.

“I’m sorry I’m not who you thought I was. That I’m a monster. You were just falling so fast and I couldn’t stop it. I couldn't stop it,” you gasped out, giving in to your instincts as you grappled at the material of Azriel’s shirt. “I wanted to protect you and there was nothing I could do. You’re supposed to feel safe with me and I’ve ruined everything.”

With each word came more tears and more heaving breaths. Azriel held you through each of them, his hands firm at your elbows, his head shaking as you laid everything before him. Occasionally, your name fell from his lips in a soft whisper, but he never interrupted you.

“I’m not supposed to be this person to you. I’m supposed to be all of the good parts, and now I’m—now I’m someone else and you can’t—you’re not going to love all of the parts and—”

“Look at me, angel,” Azriel softly interrupted, sliding his fingers along your hairline, his eyes searching every inch of your face. When your gaze snapped to his, a bittersweet smile graced his pretty features. “There she is.”

A hysterical laugh left you, your emotions mingling with his as the bond flowed freely between you. You didn’t have the energy or willpower to block him out anymore. A rush of relief was sent through you as Azriel realized the opening.

“You are not a monster.” Azriel’s whisper was so clear, so close. “And I love every part of you, y/n. Especially the part I saw on that field. You saved me—protected our court and family. How could I not love that?”

“I saw your face,” you whispered back, the words brushing Azriel’s lips as your foreheads met. “You looked—”

“I looked disappointed in myself.”

“In yourself?”

Azriel brought both hands to your cheeks. “I lead you to that carnage. Y/n, I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to take that load for you… to shoulder that burden.”

“You aren’t… disgusted by me?”

“My love, I love you more. What you did for me… you’re so strong. Cassian told me how amazing you were. Why have you never told me?”

You shifted back on your knees, blinking under Azriel’s adoring, forgiving gaze. The shadowsinger didn’t let you get far, however, sliding his hands down your jaw, your shoulders, and settling on the tops of your thighs.

Touching you, it seemed, was imperative.

“When we were mated,” you began, tears still lingering in your throat. “I was new to Prythian—new to having a family. Everyone kept telling me that we were equals in opposite. They said I was a blessing from the cauldron to be so different from you but so in love. And then you… you called me things like peace and safety and calm. I saw the work you did and I knew I couldn’t tell you what I was trained for. Being a healer was enough.”

The hands on your thighs tense. Azriel’s shadows pooled beneath you, swirling like a puddle of darkness.

“I never meant for you to hide,” he murmured.

“Azriel—”

“Never, angel. You could burn down the world and you’d still be my peace. You could be a weapon and I’d find my safety in you.”

He sighed out a disbelieving laugh.

“I love you,” he affirmed, eyes so sure. “I love you when you heal the broken and I love you when you decimate battlefields.” A small smirk. “I wish I had known about the second half a little sooner. I might not have teased you about your book choices as often.”

You scoffed, a watery smile finally lighting up your face. “Don’t start.”

“Should I tell you all the other times I should have been wary? Or maybe all of the reasons Cassian should be afraid now? It seems that’s the only way to get you to smile, and seeing as you are the reason we won the war, you should be doing far more of it.”

The bond shone within you, bursting with joy as a laugh escaped your lips—a real laugh. The sound was soon smothered by Azriel’s kiss, and you knew things were changing.

And that was okay.

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel fanfic #azriel angst

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 5 months

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Practice On Me — Part Fourteen — Azriel x Reader

Summary: Reader is readying herself for the ball. Hot Daddy Fin™️ opens up to her a little and shares some worrying truths (and then some). Azriel and Reader reunite, body and soul.

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings: Adult content, 18+, NSFW, minors dni.

Tried my best with this part but sorry if it's a bit iffy! This girlie is ill as FUCK. Still hope you enjoy, tho, loves!

“You know, I have to admit, I was dubious at first.”

Mor is knelt at your feet, and you think this might be the closest you ever come to having a goddess on her knees before you. A strange part of you wants her to snap out and sink her teeth into your thigh, leave a bright red mark on the skin — but alas, her attention is fully on the hem of your gown.

“My uncle, love him though I do, is a calculated bastard.” She pushes to her feet, straightening out the fabric. “But I think he actually enjoys your company.”

“He does.” Roza pitches in from her place on the couch. “I know Fin. Y/N has him eating out of the palm of her hand.”

Though she smiles, her tone is laced with clear concern. Not because she cares about Fin, but because she cares about you. Doesn’t want you to forget that this is the High Lord of the Night Court you’re meddling with.

“Males are vapid and predictable, every last one of them.” You shrug your tense shoulders. “Throw them a few pretty smiles and they’ll do anything for you.”

Mor steps back, a low whistle leaving her. “Forget the males. I’ll do anything for you.”

Her eyes rake over your gown. So do Roza’s. And you…you want to crawl out of your skin and hide.

You’ve never owned a beautiful gown like this, never been able to afford one. The couple of dresses you do keep amongst your clothes are plain ones that just about do for special occasions. What hangs off your body now is…a work of art.

Almost feels like sacrilege for the beautiful fabric to touch your marred skin.

It’s sheer, showing off more than you’ve ever before dared to, and yet there’s a modesty, an elegance, to the many whorls and swirls made up entirely of little blue jewels and pearls and beads. It gives the gown a weight that makes it cling to you, and it outlines a body that…that quite frankly, you’d never considered beautiful until this very moment.

A body that commands the garment, and not the other way round. That makes you feel like far more than just another mistreated, unfavoured Illyrian female that will one day be lost to history.

This gown makes you think: I do not need the wings I have spent my life longing for.

It makes you think: There is nothing more beautiful than a good spirit and soul, and I have both.

It makes you think: Never again will anyone — friend or family or foe — make you feel less than worthy. Less than deserving. Less than strong.

You have always had strength. And this dress somehow amplifies it. Will amplify it to a room full of people who will see, through that sheer fabric, your scars, your lack of wings, and they may pity you, or not pity you at all, or may even laugh.

But you will still be beautiful.

Movement has you realising that tears have blurred your eyes. You swipe them away, and Mor is smiling at you, and Roza looks like she’s a little choked up, too.

“You are so godsdamned gorgeous.” Mor says earnestly. “Every last inch of you.”

Indeed, you glance over your shoulder at the mirror behind you, your gaze immediately finding your scars sitting brutal and undeniable beneath the sheer fabric. You don’t hurriedly force your gaze away like you have done your whole life, don’t try to avoid them.

You just…look. Look at what has been a part of you for so long, now.

“…Mor?” Roza says quietly. “Can you…give Y/N and I a moment?”

“Of course.” Mor agrees. “Time for me to find a snack.”

The stunning blonde squeezes your hand as she strolls past, and as she leaves the room, the door is pulled shut behind her.

Roza rises from her seat, making her way over to you. And as she stops before you, her hands move up to cup your face.

“Did you know,” she murmurs, “that I’ve always thought you were one of the prettiest females in all of Windhaven?” A soft scoff leaves you, but before you can glance down, she’s holding your face firmly. “I mean that — even when Azriel brought you to the cottage that very first time, and you were covered in dirt and mud, your hair all knotted, a leaf or two in there — you thanked me for feeding you, and you gave me a smile that was just like…sunshine. Such a rare thing in Windhaven. I remember thinking, this girl deserves to smile like that, always.”

A single tear spills down your cheek, and Roza wipes it away. She definitely looks like she might start bawling, too — a rare thing for her.

“I know you were never given much of a chance to feel worthy.” She whispers. “Your mother abandoning you…your father taking your wings…they were the two people who were supposed to love you more than anyone, and they broke you and left you broken.”

“You put me back together.” A lump in your throat fractures your words. “You and Rhys and Azriel and Cassian. Your love—”

“My little dove, you put yourself back together. We just loved you through it. I just want you to know that…I just want you to remember, the next time you feel worthless, that you are beautiful, and you have always been beautiful. You’re strong, and spirited, and determined. You have a resolve like no other I have ever seen, and you can do anything — which is why I know you will achieve whatever it is you’re planning with Fin.”

Only then does your gaze drop. “I only wish to appeal myself to him enough that he’ll value my opinion — that this Fenlaros business cannot go ahead. But I still feel awful…he’s your mate.”

“Gods, in the loosest definition, Y/N.” Her hands move to yours, then, liking them together. “Believe me when I say that if it weren’t for my children, I’d never see that male again. I think you know that I do not hold him in high regard.”

“I do know. But I respect you and care about you more than anyone in the world. And if you feel even a shred of discomfort about what I’m doing, I’ll stop. I’ll find another way—”

“The only discomfort I feel,” she squeezes your hands gently, “is at the thought of any harm coming to you. But I’ll feel that way through everything you do in life, because I love you. I also feel awe, because you’re brave and brilliant, and you’re doing what’s right. What I will teach this little girl,” she places your hands on her swollen belly, “to do — to stand up against what is wrong, and do so without a lick of shame.”

“I’ll protect her with my life, you know — the babe. I’ll love her unconditionally.”

“And she will love you, my dove, just as I do. So,” she steps back, eyes your dress again. A smile curves her lips. “Do whatever it is you have to do, Y/N, to change Fin’s mind — you have my full support. I only ask three things of you.”

Your expression softens. Anything — you’d do anything for her. “Of course, Roz.”

“First, don’t get caught with your scheming.” She says. “And second — you may feel like murdering Fin. Gods, believe me, I get it. But please do refrain. He’s my children’s father, after all, and Rhys isn’t ready to be High Lord just yet.”

You breathe a laugh, dipping your chin. “No murder. Got it. And the third thing?”

Roza steps up to you, her fingers finding the beautiful, jewelled material that clings to you like a second skin. She smiles.

“Go to that ball,” her fierce eyes meet yours, “and show everybody there that your father didn’t take one bit of beauty away from you.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You pace the length of your room. Back and forth, back and forth. You’re restless tonight.

Day after day is swept behind you like the snow that blankets the mountains. Time is a racing thing. Starfall is fast approaching, and thus, so is the ball. But you still feel as though you can’t get a good read on Fin’s thoughts.

No matter how many dinners you share with him, how many walks through the city streets you take together, the shows you watch in the Rainbow…he does not offer you the candidness with which he spoke through that very first conversation in his study. Any attempts to talk about Tathaln, about Fenlaros, are promptly diverted. He wants to talk about you — wants to know you.

It feels like the opportunity to stop this shit show in its tracks is slipping through your fingers, and you can’t grab hold of it, pull it back.

So instead of sleeping, you think, and you pace, and you—

Gods, you just want to see Azriel.

How much space, you wonder, is enough space? You have respected his needs, have kept to Velaris, given him time to confront his innermost thoughts and feelings. But you don’t know how long he needs, and right now…right now, all you want is to see him. Look into his eyes. Hear that soft, quiet voice telling you that everything will be okay.

You need to know if he’s made a decision about Fenlaros. You’ve tried not to think about it, not to dwell on the possibility that he could choose to run from his feelings over embracing them. But the longer the silence stretches on…the more you find that hole in your heart gaping, threatening to swallow you whole.

You pace more and more, up and down in time to the ticking of the clock. It’s a wonder you haven’t worn a track through the carpet. You don’t know why you’re suddenly so antsy, but perhaps if you could just talk to Az, some of your worries could be allayed—

Before your thoughts can catch up with your body, you’re tearing through the drawers in the desk, scrambling for paper, a pen. Practically throw yourself into the chair. A letter — a letter will do the trick—

But you don’t know what to write.

You stare at the blank parchment like the words will simply appear by your willing. They don’t.

A love letter? No, no, not a love letter. Just a letter to…to remind him that you are still here. That you are reason to stay in Windhaven, and you think you could be reason enough.

Azriel… you picture him as you crawl his name. His honey-golden eyes and his silken hair. The sharp bone structure that could slice through paper, the full lips. The memory of how those lips feel is fading, and you want — need — it back. Your pen pauses, hovers at the parchment, and those lips are all you can think of, the urgency with which you crave them.

Azriel, you write again, I want to see you. I need you, too—

A soft knock lands on the door, and the pen clatters against the desk where you drop it.

The clock has just timed three in the morning — the knock is an unexpected obtrusion in the dead of night. One that makes you anxious.

But a second knock comes, and you shove the parchment and pen back into the drawer, scrambling to your feet. Perhaps it’s Roza — the more the pregnancy progresses, it’s not unusual for her to wake up in the night with need for something. You hurry over and tug it open.

Fin stands on the other side, looking…unkempt. His hair is mussed, like he’s been dragging his fingers through it. The first few buttons on his shirt have been undone, and a glimpse of a fine, chiselled chest peeks out. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. He looks as though he hasn’t been to bed.

He drinks in the sight of you in your nightgown, bathed in the room’s glow. He swallows. “Forgive me, I…I saw your light on. Thought you might be having trouble sleeping again.”

You incline your head. “I was.” You admit. “…And you?”

“Too much in my head to even attempt it.”

You’re not sure what to reply with, how to help. Fin watches you closely like…like he needs to. Like gazing at you brings him comfort.

You are treading a very, very dangerous path. But you shift on your feet and ask him, “Would you like to come in?”

A tiny nudge of a smile pulls one side of his mouth up. “I was actually wondering if you’d allow me to take you somewhere.”

Your eyes widen a little. The surprise isn’t for show, and it seems to please him. “Right now?”

“The City of Starlight doesn’t sleep. Ever.”

A fact you’ve learned all too well during your stay here. There’s always some sort of activity, something going on that sends a constant pulsing through the city streets. For some reason, you hadn’t imagined Fin to be a participant in the night life.

“It’s somewhere I go when I can’t sleep.” He explains, as though you’ve spoken your thoughts loud and clear. “I think you’d like it. And from one insomniac to another, I…I would be honoured to share it with you.”

How can you possibly say no to that? For all Fin is mysterious, for all he keeps his cards tightly pressed against his chest, you truly believe that he finds a strange sort of solidarity in this one affliction that burdens you both. You may have wildly different reasons for pacing your room at night — and you’re not sure he’ll ever tell you his — but when the world is too quiet and thoughts are too loud…there’s comfort in knowing that somebody else is staring down those early hours, also.

It almost makes him seem…normal.

And perhaps that’s why you offer him a dazzling smile that isn’t entirely disingenuous. “From one insomniac to another,” you say, “I’d love to come with you.

The way his eyes light up makes you wonder if you’ve played your role, appealed yourself to him, a little too well. “Then I’ll wait here while you get dressed.”

You incline your head. “I’ll just be a moment.”

He waits patiently as you change from your nightgown into warm clothes that will shield you from the freezing night air. With no indication of where you might be going, a sweater and breeches and boots seems like the safest bet. You sweep your hair out of your face and shrug the weariness from your bones. When you emerge from the room, Fin’s gaze traces you like you’ve donned an evening gown and not the thickest layers you could fine.

“I find you so very intriguing.” He comments unexpectedly, and you’re not sure what he means.

You plaster a smile on your face, all the same. “Where are we going, Lord of the Night?”

Heat stokes his hickory eyes, and he looks as though he’s actually trying to tamp down on a broad smile. “It’s a surprise.”

You hold a hand out. He takes it. “Then surprise me.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

“Tilt your head up.” The instruction comes from close behind you. Near enough that a warm breath tickles the back of your neck. You dutifully obey. “Now, open your eyes.”

Your eyelids flutter open slowly, cautiously. What you’re met with has your next breath catching in your throat.

A dome of starlight arcs high above you. The twinkling jewels in the sky feel almost close enough to reach out and touch, and they shine brilliantly through the glass roof, an occasional transient one cartwheeling its way past in pursuit of another place.

You can only stare. Gape. Your feet move forward a couple of steps, but your face remains tilted upwards.

You were in this building only a couple of evenings before, but it had been so packed, then, so filled with music and chatter and laughter and activity, that you hadn’t noticed what sat above your head. You’d been far too enamoured with the performers, their poetic verses and fluid dances, the tragic climax that had brought you to tears.

Now, the largest theatre in Velaris’s rainbow is empty and bathed in darkness, broken only by silvery moonlight. You and Fin are the only two here. And standing on the gargantuan stage, a mass of empty, folded seats staring back at you, you have the perfect view of the night sky that gives a performance all of its own above you.

There are soft footsteps, and Fin is also stepping forward, stopping at your side. “In over nine centuries, I’ve never tired of that sight,”

You shake your head, a little dazed. You’re lost for words. “I can see why.”

“There is so much unexpected, so much chaos and burden, in being High Lord. But no matter what I may face, what choices I make, and what reactions they receive…there will always be the night sky and its stars.”

Only then do you remove your gaze from the domed glass ceiling — to drink him in and wonder how many layers deep his true heart lies. This male who is as cunning and cruel as he is handsome and charming. How many dimensions does he have that you’ve never stopped to consider?

“I know it doesn’t exactly support the imagine of a calculated High Lord who shouldn’t be crossed.” Fin says, staring had at the surface of the stage whilst a wry smile graces his lips. “Sneaking off to an empty theatre in the dead of night when sleep evades me. But I find…peace here.”

You eye the ginormous building around you, dipped in shimmering moonlight and the shadows of twinkling stars. All those empty seats, the vacant orchestra pit, the stage that has trapped so many beautiful voices and words, guided so many dances and echoed so much beautiful music. There’s a haunting loneliness to the desolation. And you can’t help wondering if…if Fin relates to that, somehow.

When you snap out of your thoughts, you find he’s moved again. Now, he sits on the very edge of the stage, legs hanging down and palms bracing him. He stares out at the rows and rows of red velvet seats, not one of them disturbed by a spectator.

You’re moving before you tell yourself to. Sitting at his side and tucking your legs beneath you. You spend a short time in still silence, but the heaviness of the High Lord’s thoughts seems to spread to every corner of the building.

“When you brought me here the other night,” you angle yourself towards him, “it was my first time in a theatre — ever. I never saw a show before.”

A very slight frown pinches Fin’s features. He seems to consider that. “One of my flaws, Y/N, I have to admit, is that I often forget that there’s a world outside of my privilege. That people lack where I never will.” He tugs his bottom lip between his teeth. “Roza was right to take Rhysand to Windhaven. He’s grown with a humility that I very much do not have.”

You snort softly. “I spend a lot of time with your son, My Lord. I assure you he’s just as capable of arrogance. I’ve kicked his ass a good few times because of it.”

A quiet laugh rasps from him. “Somehow, I don’t doubt that.” He pauses, and then his elbow is gently nudging you. “I told you, anyway — it’s Fin. I consider us to be friends. Don’t you?”

In some ways, you really do. Ans what a lying, using, devious little friend you are.

Especially as you scoot closer to him. And you’re softening your features and staring openly at him.

You don’t miss the way his gaze falls to your lips.

“I do.” You say, and he lifts his eyes to yours again. “And as your friend, I’d like to know what weighs so heavily on your mind tonight.”

His mile falters. And you don’t want to lose him, to let the moment slip away from you. You quickly grab his hand before he can tense up.

“I want you to talk to me…” You make your voice soft as butter, sweet as honey. “I like talking to you, Fin.”

There’s a beat. A tense one. And then his body is loosening, relaxing, his eyes becoming infinitely warmer.

His hand wraps around yours, the pad of his thumb tracing your nail. “I like talking to you, too.” He admits, and pauses again. “…War is…a great likelihood, Y/N.”

It’s your turn to go still, then, to tense up. Icy cold surprise bolts through you. That…isn’t what you were expecting.

“War?” You breathe, your mind already conjuring images of your friends on a battlefield. “With whom? When?”

“I do not know when. It could be in a year’s time; it could be in a decade. That all depends on how long it takes for humans to rise up and rally against our kind.”

“Humans?”

“There has been more and more pushback, in recent years, from humans. Humans who are enslaved by our kind and are sick of it. More and more of them are beginning to stand up against it, to protest how they’re forced to live. They’re willing to go to war over it. I don’t know when or where, but they will. In years to come, they will.”

“As they should.” You sit up straight. Perhaps it’s the wrong thing to say, but you don’t care. “They should revolt. I think it’s barbarous, the way our kind treat them. Their purpose is not to serve us. They have just as much right to live freely as we do.”

You mean it, mean it with your whole heart. You know what it’s like to be used for somebody’s personal gain, what it’s like to have freedom always lurking just out of reach. And you’ve heard about the treatment of enslaved humans. Most would rather die that live under the cruelty of their fae masters. That the practice hasn’t been outlawed utterly sickens you.

Fin says nothing for a while. His hand continues to hold yours. His eyes drink you down with a muted intensity. Like this is the first time he’s ever really taken you in.

“I agree.” He murmurs, much to your surprise. “And when war comes — and it will, and I’m preparing for it — when war comes, I will fight alongside the humans. To liberate them.”

You look at him, then — a male who has lived for almost a millennia, but doesn’t look a day over forty. Who is so universally feared, who carries a reputation for things you can’t even bear to consider. You will not fool yourself into believing that the darkness hides an inner light, or that the cruelty is a front. He is not soft and he is not kind.

But perhaps he’s not totally bad, either. That he would put himself in the firing line for the liberation of innocent humans…it has to speak somewhat to his character.

It almost makes you regret your scheming, your manipulating.

Before you can muster a response, the High Lord is leaning closer. Your body tenses as his face stops inches away from yours.

“You need not be afraid of me, Y/N.” He whispers. “I find you…magnificent. I like that you don’t filter yourself in front of me, that you’re not afraid to speak your true thoughts and feelings. You…you are an asset. Worth so much more than you’ve ever been given credit for.”

Your gaze dips, cheeks burning at the compliment. “I don’t know about that—”

“I mean it.” His finger hooks under your chin, soothing the skin there. “Magnificent.” He repeats, and he’s leaning in closer, closer, until his lips are coasting your flushed cheek. The kiss he presses there is cold in contrast, but you have no chance to react as his mouth brushes its way to the shell of your ear and lingers there. “Absolutely brilliant. And do you know what?”

“…What?”

“After the ball is over,” his breath tickles your ear, “I’m going to bring you back here, to this stage. And those stars above our heads will watch as I strip you bare and fuck you hard enough to shake the building.”

It takes every morsel of your resolve not to start at the words. You release a shaky breath — one that makes you seem eager, responsive. It’s convincing enough that you don’t think you’d be out of place up here on this stage.

Thankfully, you don’t have to drag words from your spinning thoughts. Fin lets go, and he pulls back, rising to his feet.

“But until then,” he holds a hand out for you, “there is much to be done. Starting with you and I getting a good night’s sleep.”

You wear a mild smile as you allow him to pull you up. “A girl can dream.”

“And so can a High Lord.”

You don’t say much else to each other as he tugs you close and spirits you back to his palace. You are both pensive, and you are both tired.

But when he bids you goodnight outside your bedroom and strolls off to his own, sleep seems further away than ever. You’re thinking too much at once. Humans. War. Fin. Azriel.

You still desperately want to see Az, talk to him.

You dig back into the drawer, meaning to retrieve the letter you’d started to write.

But your hand merely knocks against wood, and the letter is gone.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You’re tempted — to write another letter, or note, or…whatever. You don’t even know what became of the first, unfinished one, whether it made its way to Azriel or not.

But days pass, and you…you begin to lose your nerve a little. Perhaps it’s better to live in ignorance for as long as possible than know, either way, what Azriel is thinking. Choosing. Can’t help feeling that the more time pedals on without a word…the worse the outcome will be.

Distractions help. But tonight, it would seem, there are none. And it’s strange, because everything around you is bathed in luxury, in excellence, but you find yourself missing the stripped back simplicity of Windhaven. The crumbling cottages, the mead hall, the rough-and-tumble way of life. There’s always something happening in that harrowing place, something to keep you occupied. As you stare down an evening in a huge, mostly empty palace, you’re actually struck by your longing for it. Both Roza and Fin are busy. Mor is away. Only the mountains and the distant sounds of the city are your companions tonight.

And once again, your thoughts take you to Azriel.

You think maybe this need for him is getting out of hand. And maybe it’s just the sugar-sweet things that Fin has been speaking into your ear, the knowledge that deep down, there’s only one person you want to make such promises to you—

No. It’s not just that. Not just a pathetic influence of suggestive words. It’s a need.

You need Azriel.

Your closest friend. Your safety blanket. The male who saved you and brought you into the fold of a loving, supportive unit. You stared down awkward adolescence together, faced such trying times by each other’s sides.

And you need him.

Your heart, your body, your skin, is hot and heavy with it. Restless. Like the craving is pulling you apart from the inside.

You need to do something, anything, to occupy yourself; take a late-night stroll, read a book. Anything to stop you from staring at the ceiling and being eaten alive by the fire that scorches your veins.

You’re so desperate to get moving that you don’t bother to grab a jacket — just shove your feet into your shoes. A spring mildness has blanketed the city, anyway. You’ll be fine. You just need to move—

But you yank your bedroom door open, and Azriel is on the other side.

His beauty punches you straight in the gut.

He’s a vision, stood there in casual clothing, a note — your note — clutched in his hand. He takes in the sight of you just as hurriedly.

“What are you doing here,” you breathe.

He opens his mouth. Closes it. His eyes rove you again, and he swallows. “I got your note.” He answers. “I wanted to see you, too, and…the High Lord summoned Rhys, Cass and I here…to warn us to be on our best behaviour at the ball.”

You can’t say anything. Can’t speak. You just gawk like a godsdamned fool.

A strange concoction of a frown and a laugh comes from Az. “I…snuck away after…to come here—”

Before you even know what you’re doing, your hand is bunching in the front of Azriel’s shirt, and you’re dragging him into the room with all your strength. He looks bewildered as you shove the door shut behind him.

“Az, have you lost your mind?” You round on him. “If Fin knew you’d come to my room—”

“He isn’t here.” He cuts you off. “Cass went straight back to Windhaven, and Rhys knew I wanted to see you, so…he’s currently having quality family time with Roza and his father in the city.”

There’s a lot to unpack. But all your mind wants to zero in on is that one little sentence — Rhys knew I wanted to see you.

Pathetic, how your entire stomach flips.

“…You call him Fin?”

It takes a moment for your mind to catch up enough to understand Azriel’s question.

“We’ve been living under the same roof.” You shrug slowly. “I…guess he got tired of me using his title.”

Az stares at you, assessing. You’re not sure what he’s looking for, but you fidget under the intensity of his gaze.

“What is it?” You ask him.

“I’m worried about you. I know he’s taking you to the ball. I don’t want you playing his games.”

You purse your lips. “…That why you snuck here to my room, Az? To give me a warning—”

“I came here because you said you wanted to see me, and I want to see you, too.”

So open — for him. So straightforward that for a beat, you’re not sure how to react.

But then you’re moving, and so is he, and your bodies slam together in a tight, long-awaited embrace. Feeling his arms wrap around you is…everything. Everything you’ve missed and longed for. Everything you will ever long for. Whatever happens…Azriel is the only thing you’ll need, when all is said and done.

And that’s why you’re suddenly crying, clinging to him.

On instinct, Azriel’s arms tighten around you. He moves a hand up to cradle the back of your head, and he whispers, “Y/N…”

“Please don’t leave Windhaven.” The words choke out of you. “Please, Az, just…don’t go to Fenlaros. Please—”

“Y/N. Look at me.”

Tears and all, you do. You remain as close to him as you possibly can as you lift your head to meet his eyes.

You don’t know how you know, but you do — from that one, heavy stare, you can tell that things have changed. That he has changed. He looks like the same, stunning male that you’ve always admired, but something else sits on his face.

Emotion.

Determination.

Fire.

He opens his mouth. Takes a slow, shuddering breath that you feel through every inch of your body. And then he says, with utter clarity, “I’m not going anywhere.”

You almost break all over again. But he keeps talking, keeps sharing.

“I love you. No — I’m in love with you. I love you more than I can put into words. I want you and only you, and I’m not leaving you. The only reason I would ever walk out of that camp is if you were by my side, and we were leaving together.”

You are…weightless. Boneless. Held up only by Azriel’s arms. A tear rolls down your cheek, and you allow it to fall to the carpet.

“My handling of my feelings,” Az stares down at you, “has been one huge fuck up. I loved you long before you offer to let me practice intimacy on you. Experiencing those things with you…the things you made me feel…only brought those feelings to the surface. And instead of facing them as I should have done, I hid behind Kaeda to avoid them. But it was never about Kaeda. It was always you. It will always be you. And I’m scared, Y/N, I’m fucking terrified. But I’m done running. Done hiding.”

Silence sweeps into the room on swift wings, and you are suddenly incapable of thought, and of somehow turning it into words. Without Azriel’s voice to distract you, you’re aware of the tremors that wrack through his body. As though this is the scariest thing in the world to him, and he’s trying to hold strong against it.

It probably is.

He studies you closely. Croaks out, “Please say something.”

And perhaps it’s giving him the wrong impression entirely, but you’re stepping out of his arms and putting space between you. You just…need to gather your thoughts. To remember how to speak.

“I…” You blink. “I handled it badly, too.”

“It doesn’t matter—”

“I made selfish choices. I…I acted out of jealousy because I wanted you, but you and Kaeda were…”

He shakes his head resolutely. “What I told you before was true. I never touched Kaeda like that. Even before I found out about all that Fenlaros shit, I think I knew that I wouldn’t. That I couldn’t.”

A fact that breaks your heart. Your eyes fill with tears again. “But I still did. Cass and I—”

“Cassian was there for you when I should have been, and I had no right — none — to react the way that I did. If anyone did anything wrong that night, it was me. But what you and Cass did…it does not matter. Not one bit.”

You’re pivoting on the spot, turning your back to him, before you can crumble entirely. He really means it. Really does not hate you for the choice you made, even though it hurt him.

“Y/N,” Az’s voice shakes behind you. “Please…look at me.”

Now you’re confronted with the situation, part of you wants to run — to hide.

But Az is being open. Honest. No matter how hard, how terrifying it is for him…he’s here. He’s trying.

And so you’ll try, too. And you think you might be shaking just as much as he is as you turn back to him.

The two of you stare at each other. Feel the situation out with your gazes alone.

Azriel is the one to break the extended silence.

“You said you need me.” He eyes you. He’s visibly trembling all over, and it has nothing to do with the chill in the room. Trembling like he’s trying to hold himself together against the weight of the situation.

“…Yes.” You swallow. “I do, Az…I think I’ve always needed you.”

“So show me.”

You pause. Blink, your eyes blown wide. “What?”

“Show me how you need me.” He steps closer, and though he’s shaking, he outreaches a hand and find yours. “Show me how to give you what you need.”

Your fingers brush his, and you’re forcing a lump down your throat. Drinking him in. He…he’s exquisite. “You mean…”

“I mean,” the gap is closed between your bodies, and his heat is reaching you, “I don’t want to practice. I want it all…everything…with you. I want you to take me. Only you—”

You’re surging forward with so much pent-up need that when your lips collide with Azriel’s, it almost knocks you both to the floor.

But Azriel’s arms are banding around you, and he’s a pillar against you, kissing you back with just as much heat.

You don’t know which of you makes what move. Your hands are all over him, and his are all over you, and he’s walking you backwards and groaning as the kiss deepens.

You find the hem of his tunic, dip your hands under, fingertips skating warm skin that shudders beneath your touch. “Can I take this off?” You murmur, and he swallows your words greedily.

“All of it — take it all.”

And so you do. There is no method to it. You’re a woman starved and crazed as you tear at his clothing, not caring about where it ends up, so long as it’s no longer on him. More and more tan skin is exposed, more muscles, more scars. And when he kicks out of his boots and breeches and his underwear is the only remaining barrier, you’re reaching for him, for the hardness that’s pushing through the dark grey fabric and taunting you.

But Azriel reaches out an arm to gently stop you. His hand brushes your cheek, and his eyes are pure hunger as he says, “Your turn.”

And it hits you just then that up in until this point, Azriel has never seen you naked — in this capacity, anyway. There have been plenty of non-sexual circumstances over the years in which you’ve gotten a glimpse of each other, but not like this. Even when he began practicing on you, you never took your clothes off.

And you’re fucking nervous. Even more so under the press of his gaze. He looks like he may combust as you slowly move your hands to your shirt and tug the front laces loose. You pull the hem out from where it was tucked into your breeches.

The fabric parts enough that it more or less slides off you and pools on the floor. You do not meet the heavy stare that watches you so closely. You may lose your nerve if you do.

But when the last few items of clothing are off and kicked away from you, and you’re left entirely bare, you hear a sharp intake of breath. Curiosity gets the better of you. You lift your gaze and resist the urge to fold your arms over your chest.

Azriel is staring at you like…like nobody ever has before.

Like you are the rare rays of sunlight that break through the grey landscape of Windhaven. Like the world around you was forged from your own two hands.

Like you’re beautiful, and worthy, and unruined.

“…What is it?” You clear your throat, shifting on the spot.

Azriel shakes out of a daze and takes a single step closer to you. “You are…” His throat bobs, “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

You almost laugh. Almost. But something stops you.

The sincerity in his tone, his eyes. The realisation that he truly means that.

Your eyes travel from his face, down his sculpted chest and stomach. The firm, toned legs and what sits beneath him. You’ve seen plenty of his body naked. But…not all at once.

You think the air might be punched from your lungs.

He’s hard as a rock — from looking at you. The tip of his cock is already leaking moisture. His wings flare proudly at his back.

“So beautiful.” He cups your jaw, guiding your eyes back up to his.

There’s nothing else you can say, in that moment, than the words that tumble from your lips.

“I love you,” you whisper.

Emotion crosses his face, and both hands are gripping your cheeks. He kisses you deeply; so deeply that it steals your breath.

And then he pulls away, and he’s repeating his earlier words, his forehead pressed to yours. “Show me — show me what you need. No games, just…you and me.”

No games, indeed. You cannot wait any longer.

You rise on the tips of your toes and claim his mouth with yours, and you’re guiding him back, back, until his legs are hitting the bed and he’s gladly falling onto it. He sprawls out, watching as you climb over him. As your hand caresses his stomach and moves down.

And when your fingertips brush the head of his cock, a deep, delicious noises rumbles in his throat.

You mop the moisture up with your palm, using it to slick the length of him and slide your hand up and down. He hisses between his teeth, hips jerking, hands bunching within the covers on your bed.

“No games,” he repeats through gritted teeth. “This is about both of us.”

And you know that, and you’re not patient enough, anyway, for foreplay right now.

It dawns on you that there will plenty of time for that.

He is not leaving Windhaven — not leaving you.

You will have experiences together beyond this one night.

And with that very fact warming your heart and making it set to burst, you place your legs either side of his body and stare down at him. His cock brushes against your centre, and he can feel how wet you already are for him. His eyes travel down.

You watch, and you ask him, quietly, “You’re sure about this?”

His gaze flicks up immediately. “I’ve never been surer about anything in my life.” He reaches out a trembling hand and brushes a strand of hair out of your face. “That doesn’t mean I’m not nervous — gods, I really fucking am. So scared. I just…want to do it right. To be good for you.”

The sentiment almost brings tears to your eyes. “You couldn’t do it wrong if you tried, Az. Do you trust me?”

“With my whole heart.” He sits up a little — angles himself closer to you. “And I love you with my whole heart, too.”

And that’s all either of you need, isn’t it? Love and trust. The need that exits between you. Everything that is just…yours and Azriel’s relationship in its entirety.

Your eyes remain locked with his as you gently reach down and position his cock at your entrance. He breathes shakily. Doesn’t look away from you once.

Not as you slide down onto him just a little. You pause at the first feel of your walls stretching to accommodate him. A pleasured frown furrows his brow. A moment passes, two, and then you slide down further.

More and more. Sinking onto him. Pausing. Adjusting. With every inch of his huge length that disappears inside you, you feel like every one of your nerve endings is struck by lightning. Azriel’s head lolls back, and he makes a soft noise.

“You’re okay?” You check, hovering over him.

“You feel—” He chokes on his words. “Fuck.”

It’s the encouragement you need to sink the rest of the way onto him. The last few inches slide into you quick, thanks to the slickness that soaks your folds, and then he’s pushed into the hilt and hitting a spot so deep inside you that you can’t stifle the noise that breaks from your throat.

“Did I hurt you?” Azriel gasps, and you can only shake your head. He seems to study your face for confirmation, before he’s pushing up to kiss you.

And you kiss him back. For a moment, that’s all either of you do.

But when he’s losing himself in your mouth, his tongue dancing around yours, seemingly distracted by your kiss…only then do you lift your hips and sink down onto him again. And then you’re falling into a slow, steady rhythm.

Azriel is gasping again, his mouth moving from yours to press kisses to your jaw, your neck, your collarbones — your breasts. As you rock slowly against him, the walls of your pussy squeezing him, coaxing him, he buries his face into your chest and explores you, lips and tongue paying attention to your nipples, teeth grazing with a gentleness that’s almost heartbreaking.

“So beautiful.” He whispers, and the hands that are sitting on your hips travel up your back — up to the scars that live in the place of your stolen wings. “Gods, Y/N, you’re everything.”

You moan, rocking harder on him and wrapping your arms around his neck. You just…want to hold him to you, to feel him against you. It’s like it all comes crashing down on you that he very easily could have left.

But he didn’t. He won’t. He is here and so are you. He is yours and you are his.

“Talk to me,” you breathe, raking your nails down his arms. “Tell me how you feel.”

“So good — feels so good with you wrapped around me.”

“Yeah?” You lean down, brush a kiss to his lips. “You like being inside me?”

“There is — fuck — there is no one, Y/N, that I want to do this with, besides you.” His mouth slants over yours, and he whispers two words — take me — before he’s giving himself to your kiss.

He’s so big, so deep. And the blood in your veins feels like molten lava as the pace picks up, as his trembling begins to subside, and he grows more confident. His groans are loud, and his hands roam over your body before finally landing on your hips. Fingertips dig into your flesh with a dizzying bite, and he’s rocking you, encouraging you to take him. To fuck him.

This is not practice. This is two bolts of lighting striking in the same place. The friction between your bodies is perfect, like nothing else you’ve ever felt. The pleasure may just finish you yet. It’s electric. Addictive. You want to feel like this forever, with him.

And more pleasure floods you as in one swift move, he flips you over — takes you entirely by surprise. You’re landing on your back, and he’s hovering over you. He stills as he stares down at you.

“This is perfect.” He says, dipping down to kiss you again. It makes him move inside you suddenly, and the different angle has you both gasping into each other’s mouths. “Gods.”

“Fuck me, Az.” You moan. “Just like that.”

What starts out slow quickly builds in pace. The roll of Azriel’s hips become thrusts — and the moans, the cries, the words that leave you, all guide them to be deeper, harder. You think you could stay like this forever, with him buried inside of you, wringing pleasure from every corner of your body. It snakes through your veins and zips up your spine, and when his hand travels down and his fingers find your clit, you fucking explode.

You cry out, bucking up from the bed as your orgasm hits you full force. Azriel fucks you through it, and his groans are growing louder, more desperate, as the walls of your cunt clench around him. He breathes out a fractured, desperate noise, leaning down to brush his lips over yours as he fucks into you harder.

“I can’t last much longer.” He chokes around his pleasure, pressing quick, nipping kisses to your mouth. “I can’t—”

“Come for me.” You gasp, locking your legs around his waist. “Come inside me.”

The noise that your words coax from him is downright sinful. He grabs your hips in his hands, slants his mouth over yours. He slams into you again, again, again, and then he’s roaring his pleasure with enough force to shake the bed, and you feel every rope of come that he spills into you.

You’re trembling. Or maybe that’s him. Or both of you. Both slick with sweat, and both shaking, and both unable to hold yourselves up any longer.

Azriel collapses beside you, his body still tangled with yours. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, his heavy breaths heating your skin. You sink a trembling hand into the strands of his hair.

“That was—” His voice hitches, “I can’t…can’t put it into words.”

Neither can you. It’s all you can do to nod as you catch your breath.

“Thank you.” A kiss is pressed against your neck. Another. Az’s arm drapes over your chest, and he moves his mouth to yours. “Thank you.”

Still void of words, you settle on kissing him. Deep. Slow. Unhurried. Your hand cups his cheek, and your tongue strokes into his mouth. Lays out a litany of sentiments that you’re currently incapable of verbalising.

It feels like you kiss each other forever. But then you’re pulling back, pressing your foreheads together. And you stare into Azriel’s eyes as you tell him once again, “I love you.”

Emotion floods his eyes, and he holds you as close to him as he possible can, murmuring onto your mouth, “I love you, too. I think I always have.”

You know you always have. You tuck yourself into his side, content to feel his skin against yours. The rest of the world floats away. There is nothing and no one but you and him. Your Azriel.

Your eyes are growing heavy when he brushes his lips against your forehead, and he whispers the words you’ve needed to hear for so, so long.

“Whatever happens, Y/N,” another kiss joins the first, “you and I will face it together.”

pom tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd @coralseacourt @towhateverend87 @sspookz @bird-on-the-wire33 @morrie-rose @megwan @catscanteleport @sevikas-whore @thickthighs-sadeyes @hihelloitsbooktimeppl

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sinsirellaxx · 3 months

Text

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Requested on AO3: I suck at writing fluff but my heart ACHES to read one, can you perhaps make a Draco fic that’s more on fluff? The cinematic I imagine it is “Draco confessing his love for the first time” AND HE SUDDENLY BECOMES SO SHY AND TIMID ACKKK and it’s a thing that he bullies the reader and teases her.

Hello everyone! First time poster here — kinda nervous to post here idek why. 👀🫠

Anyways: I probably should prepare a post about requests and how to request etc. but will do that later. I first want to cross-post the bits I already have posted on AO3.

Hope you‘ll like it! x

BTW — not proofread. 🫶🏻

You were rushing through the corridors, the small note from Draco crumbled up in your fist as you walked to his dorm. You had been surprised that the boy had asked you for help after thinking that boy secretly hated you even though you were friends. You always thought he just endured your friendship because of the group.

You were usually never late – well except for today. But honestly – it wasn't your fault: You had been gathering some books that you would need to help Draco with his arithmancy coursework, when Harry Potter had approached you asking for help in finding a book. You couldn’t say no so you took the time to help the Gryffindor before you noticed his weirdly arranged tie, that you just had to fix.

You did not exactly excel in arithmancy, but you would take any chance to spend more time with him, even if he always teased you. After 10 more minutes – damn this huge school – you were finally in front of his dorm and officially 45 minutes late. Knocking on it softly the door immediately flew open, revealing a flustered Draco standing right in front of you.

"You finally made it, huh?!" The boy raised his brow at you as his blue eyes narrowed. "I hate waiting – you know that." You rolled your eyes as you bit back a grin at his attitude. You lifted the books in your hands with a sheepish shrug, showing him that you weren’t late without a reason. "I needed to get these first – thought they might help with our studies."

Draco visibly relaxed as he stepped back, creating space for you to walk into the room, the smell of the boy’s cologne immediately surrounded you.

"Oh, and Harry needed help with his tie – I swear that boy walks around looking like he's fallen off his broom almost every single day." Draco scoffed. "You're late because of Potter?" He spat – the angry scowl was back on his face as he pointedly glared at you. You loved teasing him just as much as he did and with the way the male was frowning all the time, he was sure to get wrinkly very fast. Shrugging your shoulders you walked towards the table, his eyes burning into your back as you put the heavy books on the cold wooden surface. "He's my friend too, you know." Draco rolled his eyes, feeling the urge to gag at the word friend. It sounded like an insult to him. "Well, I'm not just your friend!" The blonde scoffed as you turned to look at him. Your brows raised and your eyes widened slightly as you stared at the male – your heart skipped a beat at the possible insinuation of his words. Quickly getting rid of that thought you tilted your head slightly, a small frown slowly marring your face. “If not my friend – what are you then?” You questioned while crossing your arms in front of your chest. You noticed how his eyes briefly moved towards your arms – or your chest, you weren’t quite sure – before a faint blush dusted his cheeks. “W-Well, I’m your best friend.” Draco stuttered obviously flustered. You scoffed in disbelief, was the boy trying to mock you? “Best friends? Draco, you always tease me for being –“

Only now did you notice the candles decorating the room and a beautiful bouquet of red roses, wrapped in black paper sitting on the bed.

“W-What’s all this for?” You questioned as you suddenly felt uncomfortable. “Were – are you expecting another girl? Is that why you’re this mad because I’m late? Am I interrupting something?” You frowned at the blonde male.

“What? No, you idiot –“Draco rudely interrupted you, desperate to stop your rant. “Wait – why are you even mad?”

You closed your mouth at his question, silently cursing yourself as you wished for something – anything to happen. The expectant look in his eyes made you want to run as far as your legs could carry you, not knowing what to say without looking like a complete fool. “I- I don’t know – I should leave.” You mumbled as you turned around to leave the now suffocating room before embarrassing yourself in front of the boy you had been crushing on for the past two years.

Draco rushed after you and pulled you back, his cold fingers wrapping around your smaller wrist. You stumbled right into his chest, his lips almost touching yours as you stared into his eyes. You felt your face heat up as his eyes flickered to your parted lips and back to your eyes. “I’ve been waiting for you – this is for you. There is no other girl, y/n.” He muttered so quietly that you almost didn’t catch it. “B-But why?”

Draco groaned as his hands found your waist as he squeezed your flesh slightly. “You really are dense sometimes you know? I’m trying to tell you that I like you. Like really like you.”

“Oh.” Was the only thing you could force out as you were overwhelmed with the onslaught of emotions you experienced at his words. Looking down at his chest you tried to hide your burning face.

“Oh?” Draco chuckled as one of his hands moved to lift your chin slightly, forcing you to look into his face again. “Is that all you want to say, doll?”

“I-I like you too, Draco.” You finally uttered as you smiled up at him. You could physically feel the male relax, even though he was trying not to show it. “Can I kiss you?” You nodded, not trusting your voice not to break.

Draco slowly leaned down as he pressed his lips against yours in a chaste kiss – as if he was afraid of scaring you. He leaned back slightly – way too quickly for your liking – to stare at you with a serious look. “You know what this means, right?”

Shaking your head, you bit your lip.

“It means, you are mine now – no more fixing ties for Potter.”

A/N: Thanks for reading! Comments, requests, feedback etc. are highly appreciated!

#draco malfoy #draco imagine #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #slytherin boys #harry potter

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honeybeefae · 8 months

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can i request a newly mated highlord!rhys x highlady!reader fic with them going to the illyrian camps bc they have business to take care of, they still don’t like rhysand bc of his fae side and while walking through the camps she hears some illyrians insult him. Since they’re newly-mated reader can’t stop herself from destroying them. PROTECTIVE READER😍😍😍

um yes 100% this is AWESOME.

Touched Nerves (Rhysand x Reader)

The sound of men grunting and rain pouring was the only greeting you got as you strolled through the camps with your mate, the High Lord of the Night Court.

Now that you were an official High Lady you saw it as your duty to go along to these meetings with Rhys even if he insisted you stayed home. He had been nervous the week leading up, knowing how brute Illyrian men were and how new the bond still was.

Rhysand had told you he was worried that he would end up slitting someone's throat if they even dared to look in your direction but no one could have predicted you'd be the one who was hot-tempered.

"There's the High Lord," A sarcastic male voice chortled as you passed them by, your mate more focused on his conversation with the generals than whatever anyone was saying. You, however, were all ears. "Walking with his newest lay. Did you hear he made her High Lady?

"It's cause Rhysand is too much of a bitch to rule himself." Another male snarked, missing your glare as you glanced at them. "I'm sure she rules over him in the court and bedroom. He always was one to hide behind his mother's skirts."

Your fists clenched in anger as you tried to control yourself. You were always protective of Rhysand's reputation, hating that people didn't know the real him, but with this mating bond, it seemed that that protectiveness had grown tenfold.

"His mother, his sister, and now his mate too. He ain't no real Illyrian." The first one sneered. "He's nothing but a trait-"

You had the Illyrian male in your grasp before he could finish his sentence, your nails digging into the skin of his neck as he desperately clawed at your hand.

"He is everything you wish you were. He's got more Illyrian fight and blood in him than you have in your toes." You emphasized as you dug your heel down into his foot, a sadistic side of you enjoying the way he whimpered and wriggled. "You'll be good to remember that next time you come face to face with someone who could easily wipe you off the face of the Earth, someone like me."

Your nails dug further into his neck and the animalistic side of you wanted to rip out his larynx for even daring to speak ill of your mate. The two men beside him watched on in horror and awe as you easily lifted the mail into the air.

"I suggest you find your dignity that is now in the dirt and apologize to your High Lord, to your leader." You said before throwing him backward, straightening your spine and brushing off your clothes. "Now."

A rush of cool night air blew next to you and you immediately relaxed when you looked to see Rhys smirking, his eyes dancing with amusement as he took in the scene before him.

"Well," Rhys waved a hand to the man, cocking an eyebrow. "I'm waiting."

"I'm-" The man began, red blood marred all over his neck as if he had just been mauled. "I'm sorry, High Lord." He said through gritted teeth, his stare colder than death as he turned and took off into the sky.

The other men followed but not before sending nasty looks your way, one of them mumbling something under their breath. You took a step forward as if to follow but stopped when you felt Rhys's hand wrap around your wrist.

"Shhh, darling. It's alright. Let them go." He murmured into your ear, pulling you close to wrap his arms around your midriff. "You protected my honor courageously. I would hate for you to stew in this."

"But they were rude to you, rude to me as if you had done nothing for them." You argued, turning to face him with a pouted lip. "I just wanted to protect your name. I don't like it when other people speak of you like they know you. Like they know what you've been through."

"I care what no one thinks but you." He assured, tilting your head up so that he could gaze adoringly into your eyes. "You are all I care about, darling. No one else."

You blushed and he smiled, kissing your forehead softly before turning to start back down the path. He held his hand in yours, keeping your body close, as he snickered and said, "Though it was nice to see you kick his ass."

#acotar #acotar reader #acotar imagine #rhys acotar #rhysand #rhysand acotar #rhys x reader #rhys x reader acotar #rhysand x reader acotar #rhysand x reader #acomaf #acowar #acosf #acofas #acotar fanfiction

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asaarii · 6 months

Note

Hi! I would like to make a request. Aphelios x Fem!Albino!Lunari!Reader. Reader has completely white hair, eyebrows and eyelashes, and red eyes. She absolutely cannot be in the sunlight. She also has not very good eyesight and hearing (which is typical for all albinos). She goes out on assignments mostly at night, when the sun can't harm her skin. Yes, unlike other Lunari, she wears completely white clothes so as not to be noticeable among the snowdrifts. Thank you very much!

Snowfall ft: aphelios reader: fem wc: 1832 IM SO SORRY THISD TOOK SO LONG JUST TO COME OUT MID. also trying out a new style guys pls dont hurt me cheese

If Aphelios was your eyes and ears…

You squint at the figures from your position in the underbrush, hidden beneath the snow-covered leaves with Aphelios at your side. You attempt to lean in closer, but a hand on your chest stops you. Aphelios shakes his head, holding up three fingers as an indication.

The beat of your heart quickens and you’re lucky to have your lover by your side to keep you from doing anything rash. Though unable to speak due to having consumed the noctum poison prior to your expedition, he quickly signs for the two of you to move quickly.

Winters on Mount Targon are cold, almost comparable to that of Freljordian true ice. Harsh and unyielding, it bites at any exposed skin, seeping into the bones of any unsuspecting trespassers.

Over the years you’ve gotten used to the howling blizzards, bundling in all white to match your hair as a form of camouflage in the high snow piles. On the other hand, Aphelios does not match your sentiment for the art of stealth with his brazen blues and purples that stand out against the pure white snow.

Not that he really needed it anyway, he was strong enough to fend for himself, after all.

The snow crunches beneath your shared footfalls, quickly covered by the raging blizzard. If you listened over the howling wind, you might’ve heard Alune’s near-silent whispers, warning her brother of the oncoming danger.

But you don’t, all you see is his head swiveling, eyes widening a fraction before he’s tackling you to the ground, his chest pressed to your back as his hair tickles your cheek. His breath comes out in frosty puffs, chakram held tightly in his grasp as the sound of footsteps of Mount Targon’s intruders grows closer.

From your place on the ground beneath Aphelios, you see the projectile thrown at the two of you lodged deep in the chunk of a tree. It’s only when Aphelios sits up do you see that the spear had grazed his arm, cutting through the thick fabric and marring his skin with an ugly cut.

He doesn’t wince when you prod at the bleeding wound, numbed to the pain by the poison in his veins. Despite his lack of pain, you still quickly wrap his wound, knowing he’ll complain about it later if you don’t. He pulls you close as soon as you’re done, observant eyes squinting at the heavy blizzard and ears focused on the small shifts of movement through the snow.

You stay situated at his side, trusting his senses as you dart your gaze around despite your dulled vision.

So long as you were by his side, you felt safe.

…you were his voice.

Even outside of the effects of the poison, Aphelios was a quiet man. Not many knew the sound of his voice, or even if he spoke at all. Those who did didn’t hear it often.

Other than you, of course.

You spoke on his behalf during general meetings or gatherings of soldiers. He almost always whispered in your ear, making sure to press his lips against the shell of your ear just to make sure you wouldn’t miss a word he said. You would nod, offering input before relaying the message to the rest of the group.

Younger soldiers would peer curiously between the two of you, unused to seeing the stoic super soldier so…content. The older soldiers would laugh lightly, teasing the two of you by asking Aphelios to speak up, garnering a glare and eye-roll from the obsidian-haired male.

A dynamic built upon your shortcomings that flourishes beneath the beauty of the moon itself.

Quite literally, actually, considering that you couldn’t be out in the sun for long periods of time.

Not that he really cared, seeing that he grew up guided by the moon alongside his sister.

Regardless, he’s nothing if not observant.

He sees the way you long for the warmth of the sun, despite being unable to stay under it for long.

So while you sleep during the daylight hours, he sneaks out of your shared residence, venturing to a meadow nearby seemingly untouched by the harsh winter snow.

He brings back flowers, white ones specifically as they remind him of you.

He presses them with guidance from the priestesses back at camp who giggle at his act of affection

“She’s really happy to have someone like you,” they would often say.

And though they couldn’t see the crimson that speckled his cheeks from beneath their eye-coverings, they still hear the near unnoticeable flustered twinge in his voice as he offers a hum of agreement.

Just as sneakily as he snuck out, he sneaks back in, placing your gift nearby before crawling back into bed with you.

He trusts you with his whole life, which means a lot coming from him.

You and Alune had each guided him in your own ways, and he can never express how truly grateful he is to the both of you.

Together, he and his sister were a weapon, a force that knew only of the destruction of any who stood in the path of the Lunari.

But with you, he’s merely a man.

And by the gods, does he love you.

The light of his life.

That’s how he would describe you.

In both appearance and personality, you are his beacon; the brightest star in a hopeless night filled with war and the unending cycle of death.

You, on the other hand, look at Aphelios as though he was the one to hang the moon and stars themselves in the sky.

In spite of his cold demeanor and rather off-putting aloofness, he never treats you less than anyone else, even if you can’t see or hear as well as others who have been trained since birth to hear and see nearly every shift in a general vicinity.

White hair is not an uncommon trait for Lunari, hell, Alune herself bears it, but what really drew Aphelios in was the striking red eyes that widened upon seeing him.

He enjoys staring into them, losing himself in the same color of which he once loathed.

Red had once been his least favorite color.

To him, it represented nothing more than carnage and bloodshed, ranging from the dulled color of blood smeared across the ground after a battle well-fought, all the way to the bright streaks left behind after each practiced swing of his severum. He preferred lighter, more calming blues, as opposed to striking reds. Though, that was simply his opinion.

He was sure that he would keep this opinion till the day he died, finding no positive things to associate with the aforementioned color.

During the rare moments when the poison was still in effect after a battle, Alune would speak to him, asking about how things were going, pointing out small changes in her brother that others had yet to notice, and simply talking to spend as much time as possible to be with him.

When she had caught wind of his least favorite color, she grew curious. Of course, her brother was free to feel however he wished about something as mundane as a color, but this did not relent her subtle teasing.

“You know, brother…” She starts. Aphelios does not like the playful lilt in her voice as he pauses his trek back to base to listen. “Those of other regions often associate the color red with that of love.” He can hear her attempt to negate her laughter through the waning connection and rolls his eyes at his sister's antics. She continues, though her voice is softer now and the ache of battle is beginning to take its toll on him, “Perhaps your disdain for the color is a sign that you’ll never find love.”

Her voice soon fades into a dull ringing, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Love was never a concept he truly ever focused on, too busy with training and defending the Lunari from any outside threats. Though, he recalls Alune watching the older couples during the midst of their training, eyes wide and curious with child-like wonder as they whispered declarations of love before setting off on their respective expeditions. She had always been fond of the concept of romance, being swept off her feet by a force unlike any other. Aphelios, on the other hand, was not a fan of the idea of being caught off guard and left in such a vulnerable position, but Alune had merely rolled her eyes, sticking her tongue out as their training resumed.

That being said, he was unsure of how his distaste for a certain color correlates in any way to his love life. Too entrapped with his thoughts, the usually keen soldier fails to notice the figure in front of him.

His eyes widen as he bumps into you, luckily catching you with his scarily quick reflexes. Your gazes meet, and the first thing he can’t help but notice is the color of your eyes. The striking shade of red only highlighted beneath the soft light of the moon. You’re quick to scurry off after a multitude of apologies to the prized soldier of the Lunari, who merely blinks blankly at you in response.

When next he and Alune have time to indulge themselves outside of battle, Alune is quick to learn that maybe, just maybe, red isn’t so bad a color.

BONUS:

Snow drifts down in slow, small clumps, covering the rocky floor of your temporary residence in a fluffy white sheet. Winters on Mount Targon were always blisteringly cold, even more so during the night.

You stick your hand out, allowing a few of the snowflakes to land on your hand before watching them melt. The light of the full moon beckons you forth where the sun doesn’t, pulling you from the confines of your claustrophobic home and out into the world.

The sound of snow crushing beneath careful footfalls draws your attention away from the falling snow, your pure white robes swaying with your sudden jolt of movement. You squint your eyes in an attempt to discern who the perpetrator is through the increasing snowfall before relaxing, tense shoulders slumping in relief.

“Phel,” you greet your lover with a gentle smile when he gets close enough. Snow litters his hair, seemingly dying the inky strands a similar color to that of your own. It’s a silly sight, and you giggle, running a hand through his hair to clear it of snow, even if it starts to regather as soon as you do.

He hums in response, leaning into your touch before placing a soft kiss on your forehead as he pulls you in a hug. You relish in his warmth, and wrap your arms around his waist in turn, nuzzling into the thick fabric of his jacket.

The two of you stay like that for a moment, basking in each other’s presence beneath the moon and snow.

©asarii 2023 — do not copy, steal, repost, or translate any of my works on tumblr or any other site

#league of legends—・❥#league of legends #league of legends x reader #aphelios x reader #aphelios league of legends

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yaut-jaknowit · 5 months

Note

Hey! Hi

I love your work too much I love Mai'tuiudh too much 🥹

If you don't mind, could you do an mlm with a reader who has problems with selfharm and his Yautja tries to console him even though he doesn't understand why his boyfriend hurts himself?

I have been feeling bad these days and if you do it would be a huge consolation 😞 Sorry if I don't know how to express myself well, English is not my native language 😔

A Battle Mai'tuiudh Can't Fight For You

Pairing: Mai'tuiudh (Male Yautja) x Reader

Warnings: self-harm, blood, thoughts of suicide, relapse of self-harm, comfort, happy ending.

Summary: Away from prying eyes, you wallow in your sorrow. By yourself. Mai gone. Fresh cuts on your arm. A relaspe.

Word Count:2108

Author Note: I just want to say that if you or anyone needs an ear to vent to, you're more than welcome to. I'm not just a writer but a friend to anyone. I'm here for you. Anyone.

P.s. Don't fret, your English is amazing. Works perfectly for me. If you are wanting more, just let me know. I'm one message away.

P.s.s. Happy Thanksgiving! Here's the second one I'm posting today

Masterlist

Ao3

In the lonesome apartment, tucked away in the tiny bathroom, you sat on the cold, unforgiving floor. Dried, salty trails of tears have evaporated long ago. Time has been a blur. You’ve been stuck inside of your mind since the start of this day. Thoughts running rampant. Thoughts you had to get rid of.

Everything wasn’t fine. No matter what you told yourself. No matter how many times you thought of it, repeating it in your mind. Just hoping that saying it so many times would make it true. But, your wish never became a reality.

It started as a steady decline. Friends seeing you pull away from them. Family hearing from you less. Coworkers seeing you slack in your work. Did anyone help? Did anyone grab your hand and lift you up? To guide you softly back to a safe mindset? No. None of them. Your work grew worse and worse. People screaming at you for messing stuff up. Your friends complaining about never seeing you. Family not taking the initiative. They all left you to be barricaded in your meek bathroom, blood dropping to the floor.

This was the only way of relief you could find without ending it all. You didn’t have the balls to do that. You’ve been so good too! You’ve had dealt with troubling times before. Past scars marring your skin. You’ve been clean! Until today. Your relapse. The day you sought a blade from the kitchen and sliced through your healing skin.

And fuck, it felt good. It released everything that has been building up. All the anguish, the heartache, the pain. Every slice cutting through the past marks to create new ones in their wake.

Your head thunked against the drywall. The sobs that once shook your fragile body had left, left you feeling meek and even more miserable. Both nostrils were plugged up, snot running down. Your throat ached and was dry. Here you were, the mate of a power species. Pathetic and useless to him. Despite the feeling building inside of you to cry all over again, you have long lost the energy to do so. Instead, you just stay on the bathroom floor.

Dried blood stuck to your fresh wounds, staining the linoleum floors dark red. You didn’t even have the energy to get up and wash yourself from the mess you created. No, you just stayed there, limp and wanting to be lifeless.

The bathroom door slammed opened, nearly splintering from the force. A new hole smashed into the wall. You couldn’t even lift your head to see who just about demolished your door. A second didn’t past when you felt hands, hot palms, grabbing at you. Clicks and chitters sounding from an alien tongue you didn’t register in your mind.

Then, you were lifted up, over the tubs edge, and place inside the off-white tub. Cold water touched at your toes, finally forcing you to rouse. You whined and tried to weakly climb from the empty bath. But, a firm grip on your shoulder was all it took to keep you there. Finally, you lift your head to find the alien mask of your mate. His biomask covering his face as he fretted over you.

For a moment, you just stared and realized he was calling your name. All you gave in return was a low hum and going lax. The only thing you wanted to do was lie there. A hand cupped at your face, forcing your head back up to look up at your mate. His free hand pulled at the tubs connecting to the cover and yanked the thing off. It was discarded to the side.

Mai’tuiudh leaned in close. His bright eyes dirtied with fret as they darted across your face then down at the marks on your arms. Chitters and even light whining produced from his throat. Once he had your attention, he released your face to grab a washcloth close by. With it, Mai’tuiudh wet it and began to wash away the blood.

New, unfortunate pain rose inside of you. You squirmed and tried to break free from the unrelenting washing. Mai’tuiudh didn’t have any of it. His voice hardened, though he was speaking in rushed Yautja. At this point, he hadn’t realized what language he was in, just flipping to default at the sight of you bloodied and out of it.

You go lax once more, lazing in the tub, warm water running over your toes. It pointless to fight. You weren’t anywhere close strong enough to fight against him. Useless. Can’t do anything right. Not at work. Not with your friends or family. Not even with your own lover. How can he even look at you without disgust? Just a weak little thing who has to hurt themselves to feel better.

A fresh, hot, single tear rolled down your sticky cheek. Your name is called again. You’re staring at the off-white tub when you hummed in answer. A clawed finger gently picks up your chin, drawing your attention back up to your mate. But you couldn’t look him in the eye. You weren’t good enough for him. You’re a fucking male like him but couldn’t even compare to a quarter of his strength.

Two fingers pinched at your cheeks and slightly shook your head. Mai’tuiudh called your name once more. He didn’t understand what was wrong. For the moment though, he wanted to know who hurt you, who hurt his mate. He’ll hunt them down, tear their skull and spine from their body, and present it to you. A sharp snarl sounded from his chest. Yet, you gave no notion that you even heard him.

His years have taught him virtue and patience. So, he returned to cleansing the slices to your arms. The wounds… Mai’tuiudh found strange. They were purposeful but didn’t look to be aiming to kill. The amount of them as well. Mai’tuiudh couldn’t come up with one conclusion: torture. Someone wanted to torture you. But he couldn’t scent anyone else. Just him and you.

Dislodging the pack on his back, Mai’tuiudh brought out his medical supplies. In your dazed mind, you weren’t paying much attention to him. Not until a blinding, stinging pain raced up your arm. You about shot out of the tub and out the door if Mai’tuiudh hadn’t grabbed you. He forced you to stay but you didn’t stop. So, he had to take drastic actions.

Carefully, Mai’tuiudh climbed into the tub to trap you with his size and legs. This freed up his hands to continue working on the wounds on your arms. Despite the hoarse cries and squirming you did, nothing worked to throw the hulking Yautja off of you. Soon, the pain just dulled to the back of your mind as he slathered the blue paste on your skin.

White, sterile bandages were wrapped around your arms. Mai’tuiudh climbed off of you and stayed knelt by the tub. A hand came to rub his thumb on your cheek bone, soft purrs pouring from his throat. Unlike usual, you barely even reacted to the sound you loved so much.

Mai’tuiudh couldn’t help the whine when he realize he hadn’t won you over. Determined as ever, he scooped your laxed body from the rub and carried you over to your bed. He wanted to make you as comfortable as possible; despite wanting to take you to his ship, though shared with his hunt brothers. He knew you wouldn’t be able to rest easily there.

Thick, comforting covers were draped over you. Warm, muscular arms were wrapped around you, securing you to a chest you were familiar with. The purrs vibrating throughout your body.

After a long, silence-filled time, Mai’tuiudh spoke up. “Who hurt you?” his voice gruff with tension. The fact someone had hurt you while he was gone made him feel uneasy. His mate, wounded, on the verge of Dhi’ki-de – walking death. It had his heart clenching at the thought of loosing you. He didn’t understand how this could happen.

But you didn’t respond, again. With a grunt, he sat up and brought you with him. You were maneuvered to sit in front of him, facing the Yautja. Your head was bowed to blankly stare at the blankets on your bed. You name was called. “I asked who hurt you?”

The words entered your brain, rolled around for a bit before you shrugged. How weak would he think of you if he knew the truth? He’s seen worse, dealt with worse. And you couldn’t handle something that he could brush off. Pathetic. Weak. Meek. A little bug in his way.

He grunted with frustration again. Both of his hands were placed on your shoulders and he shook you to gain your attention. You raised your head to look him in the eye this time. “Who hurt you?” He was adamant. You had to admit that. And he wouldn’t stop until you answered him.

“Me.” Mai’tuiudh blinked. You? You hurt yourself? He shook his head, confused. His tresses swaying with the motion. Both of his hands cupped your face and wiped away tears you didn’t know had fallen. “It was me, okay?”

“Why?” It was the only word he could come up with. It didn’t make sense. If you hurt yourself, that makes you a target, makes you more susceptible to being hunted. You would be seen a prey, weaker so predators could kill you. So why in Paya’s name would you hurt yourself on purpose?! He whined, brows furrowed.

You released a deep breath and let him hold your head up. “Because.” He didn’t want to hear about your problems. You were useless to him, nothing more than an annoying fly. You didn’t know why he stuck around? Is this how he plays with his prey, his food before a hunt?

His brows fell into a deadpanned look. He grunted and shook you again. “Why?” he bit out harsher, hoping it would get you to open up. He knew oomans were more emotional then his own species. This wasn’t something he was used to but surely read up about after he realized he had fallen for you.

You tried to ducked your head in reaction but he held steady. He wasn’t doing to give up easily. This is a hunter, born and bred to wear down their prey. “I’m useless,” you spoke in a voice that he barely could catch. His head jerked, puzzled on why in the universe you, his mate, would think of such a thing! “I can’t do anything right. Everyone hates me.”

His spine tensed at your words. The feeling to dig his claws into something grew inside of him. Someone had planted those vile thoughts into your susceptible mind. He snarled, hands growing firm on your face, then yanked him towards his face. He pressed his forehead against yours and made sure you were looking at him.

“Who hurt you?” he asked again. His English wasn’t strong. He didn’t know how to ask why you thought that way or who told you that. So, he just repeated his words from before.

Mai’tuiudh say the frustration grow in your tired eyes. “Me! Mai’tuiudh. I hurt myself. I cut myself because it feels good! It dulls the ache in my chest. Makes me feel something besides all of this sorrow!” you screamed at him with hot, fresh down your face.

Then, it hit him. Wei mo’wei-te. Great sadness, his best translate he could come up with. This sorrow you feel is internal. Yautja have emotions, despite being able to hide them so well. They feel happy, angry, sadness. All of it. Maybe in less physical displays, but they still do. This sadness. He’s heard of it before, from Elders or Hunters who could no longer hunt.

To take a Hunter from the hunt was worse than thei-de. Like… like cutting the wings off of a bird. Leaves feeling this sadness that was hard to heal.

But it was possible. His brows drew together, determination filling his veins. His mate would not suffer this sadness alone.

“What you need?” Mai’tuiudh asked, ready to scour this plant or others to cure this sadness.

You couldn’t believe his words. Instead of turning away in disgust at how weak you’ve become, he stays like a sturdy statue at your side. For the first time, your sobs are from the sorrow that filled your hollow body. You launched yourself forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, face buried into his neck.

Mai’tuiudh understood what you needed.

Him.

#yautja #predator #yautja x reader #yautja x you #predator x reader #alien vs predator #yautja x human #predator x you #predator x human #x reader #Mai'tuiudh

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moonlightazriel · 1 year

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Until your last breath /// Vampire!Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: He tried to stay away from her, until her last breath.

Warnings: Mentions of death, blood, cheating and some curse words.

Word Count: 3,2K

Notes: I was playing the sims and Caleb Vatore wanted to marry my sim but they can't, so that idea came to my mind, poor soulmates. Also thanks to @fieldofdaisiies for supporting this.

Main Masterlist

Lonely, that was what he was, a 500 years old vampire alone in this world, all of the greatest things he had seen and he had done, big moments in history, the family he found, nothing was enough to soothe the loneliness that filled his heart and mind, not until he met her, late at night in the corner of his favorite library, a book of myths and legends in her hands.

The first thing he noticed was the beating of her heart, this always caught his attention when he was searching for his next victim, but her, she breathed life, the red color on her cheeks in the cold winter screamed to him that she was alive and should stay that way, for the first time in years he felt alive too like his heart was beating again and he could see all the beautiful things in life for the first time.

She was the burst of colors in the darkness that surrounded him, the fresh breath of air his life needed, he tried to stay away from her, but as he kept going to that same library, for different reasons other than the good books it had, it was hard to ignore that pull in his chest, so strong that it felt like a magnet between them, he needed to know her name, hear her voice and then everything would go back to normal.

He had a lot of free time during the day to think about a way to approach her, but none seemed good enough, the engines in his brain worked day and night, preparing him for every scenario possible, how he would approach her, what would he say, should he ask her out? Would that be too dangerous?

One month after he first saw her, she approached him, he heard the breath getting stuck in her throat as he lifted his gaze towards her, she froze in the spot, too lost in his beautiful golden eyes to speak, she couldn’t even remember what she was going to ask him, her mind blank as she kept staring at the beautiful male in front of her.

“Can I help you with something?” His voice was deep, he held her gaze for a second, she blinked and after what felt like an eternity she spoke.

“Are you going to use this book?” She pointed to the book she read every night, carefully placed on Azriel’s desk. “I kinda need it for my thesis, only if you’re not using it.” She smiled at him, trying to look friendly, she really needed that book. His gaze dropped to the book, he reached for it, the title almost laughing at him.

Myths and Legends: The Vampires of the old world.

“Here.” He handed her the book, her soft warm fingers brushing against his cold, scarred ones, he watched as they touched, her eyes slightly wide and he retrieved his hand quickly, thinking that maybe he was disgusted by the scars that marred his skin, a courtesy from vampire hunters that tried to burn him when he was younger.

“Thank you so much, you are a life savior.” He almost laughed at the hidden irony in her words, he wasn’t a life savior, he was a monster, compelled to take lives to satisfy his dark, primal desire. The monster inside him would kill for a droplet of her blood.

“What are you working on?” The words escaped his lips before he could stop them, this was a mistake, he shouldn’t get close to her, this wouldn’t end up well, the image of her lifeless body laying on the floor, his silhouette covered in blood flashed in his mind as he blinked.

“It’s my final thesis, for my history degree, I decided to work on vampires, you know, cuz they’re cool.” She smiled more openly to him, her pink lips, the dimples on her cheeks, the way her eyes lit up as she said those words like she couldn’t be more proud of her work, she was a beauty to his eyes, her voice like a heavenly melody he begged to hear his whole life. She was holy, and oh, how he wanted to ruin her and drag her to hell with him.

After that, it was like he couldn’t stay away from her, every night he would leave his home, seeking her presence in the dim light of the library as he helped her with her thesis, she was different from the humans he interacted with before, she was interesting, she would hold his attention for hours, something rare for someone like him, he would find himself looking things up for her, bringing her books, all to see that beautiful smile across her face.

They were dangerously close, Rhysand and Cassian would warn him that he should be careful, that it was good that he had an interest in the world again but he shouldn’t get attached to her, she was a mortal, and developing feelings for her would lead to heartbreak, she would die and he would stay here, back to his loneliness.

He was obligated to face the fragility of her life when she came to the library, she was shaking, her cheeks wet and her eyes red, someone had robbed her and he held a gun against her head, she had told him, she was so afraid of dying, she couldn’t stop shaking, she sobbed in his arms that night, no work was done as they held each other all night.

Azriel was good a hunting people, he was excellent at it, so it wasn’t hard for him to track that man, wait for him outside of a bar at night, drag him to a dirty alley, and snap his neck with one hand, he was so angry at this man, he didn’t deserve to live, he was taking from people so Azriel would take his life from him, he was keeping people safe, he told himself, even more important, he was keeping Y/N safe.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“I’m almost done with this damn thesis.” She happily sighed, her head was throbbing, so much work was finally paying off, only a few days and then she would be done.

“That’s good, you’ve been working hard, you deserve to rest.” She nodded in agreement.

“And so do you, how about we go for some drinks tomorrow night? We deserve a day off.” He pondered a little, unsure of what to do, the way she was looking at him, how could he say no to her? So he agreed.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

He waited outside of the crowded bar, he had already fed himself before going, and with the amount of time he was spending with her, he barely had time to eat, so he made sure to be extra full tonight so nothing would go wrong. She stepped out of a black car, thanking the driver, she was wearing black pantyhose, a long-sleeved tight dress, boots, and a heavy coat, she looked stunning.

“You look pretty.” He said, offering her his arm, which she gladly took, leading the way inside. They ended up on a two-seat table in the corner, talking and laughing in between the drinks, he had forced himself to sip on his wine a few times to look as human as he could, but with how the conversation was flowing, she didn’t seem to notice.

“And then he rushed straight to Mom, bumping into her and falling on his ass, it was so funny.” She finished her story and he smiled without showing his teeth. “Do you have any siblings?” She inquired.

“Well, no, but I made some really good friends along the way and they are like brothers to me.”

“Oh wow, that’s nice, we should go out, all of us someday.” She suggested, sipping on her wine.

“Yeah, someday.” He really wished they could meet her, he knew she and Rhys would get along well, and Cassian would treat her like the sister he never had, he could see how perfectly she would fit between them, the image making his heart ache, he wanted that to be possible. “It’s getting late, you should go home.” He spoke and she looked at him.

“You’re right, it’s not safe for an innocent woman out there.” She winked at him and called the waiter, asking for the bill, she searched in her purse for her wallet when Azriel placed the money on the table.

“Next time you pay.” She nodded, grabbing her phone and ordering an Uber for her to go home. They waited outside for her car, and when the vehicle approached, she turned on her heels, she threw her arms around his neck, and crashed her lips against his cold ones, at that moment nothing mattered, she was the only thing holding him on earth right now, she was soft, warm, sweet, exactly like how he had imagined, he kissed her back, his hand grabbing the back of her hair as they move in synchrony, she was the best thing that has ever happened to him in his immortal life. He knew he was doomed.

The next time they met, he knew what he had to do, he was doing this for her safety, even if this would break her heart, this needed to be done, he wouldn’t condemn her to a life she didn’t deserve, she deserved to marry, have children, grow old, do all the things that she was supposed to, he couldn’t interfere in the course of her life anymore, he needed to do the right thing.

“HI Az.” She greeted him with a smile in their usual spot at the library, but her smile was met with a cold mask, he was serious, in a way she had never seen before, a shiver ran down her spine, something was wrong.

“I’m sorry Y/N.” He started and she looked at him confused. “But we can’t see each other anymore, this has gone too far, all of this was a mistake.” She blinked, feeling her eyes heavy with tears.

“But I thought you felt the same way.” She choked out, her breath coming in gasps as she tried to control the wave of anxiety that rushed into her body, pressing her nails into her palms, she tried to breathe normally. He prepared himself for what would be the most cruel thing he had ever done.

“You thought wrong, obviously. There’s no way on earth someone like me would be with someone like you, I’m sorry for playing with your feelings, but I can’t keep pretending anymore.” She looked at him so hopelessly, he could hear her heart cracking on her chest, mirroring his own, this would hurt but it was for the best, he was sure.

“I’m the one who’s sorry, for believing that you loved me too.” She said, quickly packing her things and walking away from him, letting her walk away right after saying that she loved him, was the hardest thing he has ever done, she eventually would forget him, and move on with her life, but him? She was marked in his soul, she would forever be stuck in his head while he thought of how things could be if they were different, but they weren’t and he had to deal with that.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

He watched her closely, how she slowly got back to her feet after him, he had truly broken something inside her, and for that, he would never forgive himself, he would watch her life like a personal tv show, he watched her graduate, he watched her fall in love again, he watched as the man proposed to her, his heart bleeding as he did so, but he couldn’t force himself to look away, it was like his life had ended and he could only live through her.

5 years had passed like this, his brothers tried to make him move on and go back to his life but he couldn’t let go of her and he doubted he would ever be able to do, she was the life that was robbed from him once again and he would mourn her loss forever. He still felt the soft touch of her fingers in his hands, as he handed her books in the library, the warmth of her skin, the feeling of her lips against his, she was like a ghost, haunting his memories.

He found himself watching her closely again, in the darkness of the night, right outside her window, watching her as she paced around the apartment, visibly disturbed. She was well dressed and ready to go out, but her fiancé was missing, the door swung open and he appeared, looking slightly drunk, and even Azriel could smell the feminine perfume on him.

“Where the fuck have you been Asher?” She yelled at him, running her hands through her perfect hair.

“I was drinking with some coworkers, chill out.” He sat on the couch, removing his shoes, Azriel followed her gaze as she too spotted the purple mark on his neck.

“You were out with fucking Lizzy weren’t you?” She yelled again, her face was red and she had tears in the corner of her eyes. He didn’t even dare to respond. “I knew it, you’re fucking unbelievable, I can’t believe I was so blind.” She grabbed her coat and car keys.

“Where are you going?” He spoke for the first time.

“In case you haven't noticed, this engagement is over.” She removed her ring, and threw it at him, slamming the door shut behind her.

He followed her, racing behind her car, she was way over the appropriate speed limit and he was worried that something would happen to her, especially in the rain. Her car moved weirdly in the road again, and he watched in horror as the wheels danced on the road, she had lost control over the car, the vehicle launching itself outside the road, spinning like it weighed nothing, he screamed, forcing the engines of his own car to stop, he didn’t care about anything as he rushed to her upside down car, she was hanging, the seat belt keeping her suspended, blood was everywhere and he got desperate.

He ripped the driver’s door and threw it away, holding her head, he removed the seat belt and her limp body fell onto the ground, her chest was barely moving as he removed her from the car, she was wheezing, and the air didn’t reach her lungs and everything burned, he needed to act and he needed to do it soon. Holding her soaked body close he ran as he had never done before in his life, he sighed relieved as he saw Rhysand’s property getting close, he kicked the door open, yelling as they invaded the dining room and placed her cold body on the table.

“She got into a car accident, I don’t know what to do.” He yelled as the others showed up.”She can’t die Rhys, she’s my life, I can’t lose her.” Rhysand examined her body, at this point, there was only one thing that could bring her back.

“You have to turn her Az.” He said coldly.

“What?”

“Her lungs are collapsed, she had broken several bones, the blood isn’t reaching her brain, it’s the only way or she’ll die.” Azriel looked at her, the color had faded from her beautiful face, her hair was glued to her forehead and she sounded like she was in pain. He nodded, promised to keep her safe, and that’s what he would do.

He leaned forward, removing the hair from her neck and whispering an apology, this was going to hurt, his lips wrapped around her neck and his fangs pierced her skin, the venom injecting into the bloodstream.

“That’s enough.” Rhys said, grabbing Azriel by his shoulder and pulling him back from her. “Feyre and Nesta will take care of her okay?” He nodded, and his sisters-in-law showed up, offering him sympathetic looks as they dragged Y/N to a room. They bathed her and dressed her up, once they were done, they got back to the living room, waiting for her to show up.

Y/n blinked, her eyes focusing on everything, there was a ringing in her head and she shook it, she had the weirdest dream of her life, she looked around, the room was unknown to her, she got up, looking at herself in the mirror, her reflection was faint like she wasn’t there, she somehow looked and felt different. She opened the doors, following the voices downstairs.

“She’s awake.” A female voice happily sounded, and when she reached them, she stopped on her tracks, Azriel was there, he got up, rushing to her.

“How are you feeling?” He sounded worried, looking at her up and down, the immortality fitted her better than he could ever imagine.

“Weird, what are you doing here? Who are they?” She asked, looking at the people who sat behind Azriel.

“Let’s talk somewhere else.” He suggested, conducting her to another room.

“Speak.” She ordered as he closed the door to a really fancy office.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“I had a fight with Asher, and then I was on the road…” She gasped, her eyes wide. “The car turned, outside the road…. I should be dead.” She looked at him, completely disturbed.

“You almost did, I couldn’t let you die.” She lifted her gaze to him.

“What did you do?” She stepped closer, her throat suddenly dry, she needed a drink.

“You were really injured, you were going to die, I did what I had to, to save you.” He went still. “I transformed you.”

“What?”

“I’m a 500-year-old vampire, and I turned you so you could live.” She laughed, partly in disbelief and partly because she was getting nervous.

“You can’t be serious.” She barked mid-laughter.

“I was transformed when a vampire drank from me, he thought that he had killed me but he didn’t and I got transformed.” He was speaking so seriously that she stopped laughing. “All that I said, all those years ago, I was just trying to protect you from me.”

“You’re not joking.” She stated and he looked at her, showing her his teeth, he even went as far as to grab a pen and stab his arm, she yelped in surprise only to grab his arm and watch the hole disappear.

“I never meant to hurt you, I just couldn’t force you into a life with me, now look where this brought us.” He cried in frustration, she got closer.

“You didn’t mean what you said?” She asked, her voice filled with emotion.

“Not a single word, took everything in me to not stop you from walking away that day, I wanted to tell you that I love you Y/N, I was just trying to do the right thing for you.” She got even closer, he inhaled her scent, he missed her touch, his hand grabbed her chin, lifting her head, until he could touch her forehead with his.

“I thought I had imagined you.” She whispered, a single tear rushing down her cheek, she leaned in, kissing him, he felt just like she remembered. “There wasn’t a single moment where I didn't think of you, even with Asher, I always felt empty, like something was missing. Now nothing can stop us from being together.” She smiled at him, the sight warming his heart.

“I am yours and you are mine, for the rest of eternity.” He spoke, finally, his soul would stop yearning for something, for someone, the loneliness he felt for centuries, wouldn’t be a problem anymore, as long she was by his side.

#acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel x reader #sarahjmaas #shadowsinger #azriel x y/n #night court #velaris #moonlightazriel #vampire azriel

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allzelemonz · 7 months

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The Map: Bill Williamson X Male Reader

Fictober Prompt: Day 9, Kisses Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader referred to as ‘man’ Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: T/References to sex Warnings: Kisses, fluff, light bickering, spoiling Brown Jack of course, use of Bill’s birth name, established relationship, implied future sex, slight appreciation of Bill’s thighs Summary: Lost in a new area when trying to find a new town, you have a sweet moment with Bill.

Bill’s face scrunches in confusion as he stares down at the map. You’re supposed to be finding the town that’s closest to the new camp, but all Dutch did was hand Bill a map. Now, after taking turns Bill swore were correct, you are on a path in the middle of the woods with no clue where you really are.

“Just let me look at it, Mar.” You sigh, your head resting on your saddle horn to attempt alleviating exhaustion. “We’ve been out here for hours.”

“I’ll find it.” Bill mutters. “I can read a damn map.”

You sigh, straightening your back and rolling your shoulders. Bill is squinting as he peers down, the map clutched tight in his hands. It’s clear that he’s frustrated, maybe even close to ripping the thing to pieces. And while he looks adorable in the afternoon sun peeking through trees with his nose all crinkled, you don’t want to be caught in unfamiliar wilderness at night. Two men don’t stand a chance against an unfamiliar environment, outlaws or not.

You tug at your horse’s reins slightly, making them sidestep enough for you to swipe the already crinkled map from Bill.

“Hey, gimme-“

“Marion, I love you, but shut up.”

Bill crosses his arms, his face red from hearing his birth name. Under him, Brown Jack taps at the ground with about as much impatience as you. He’s probably twice as tired too. You focus on the map, retracing the mark showing camp to where you might be now. In the corner of your eye, Bill gives Brown Jack a treat and pats his neck with a smile.

“You’re spoiling him again.” You joke, watching as the horse takes another treat.

“He deserves it.” Bill says fondly. “He don’t doubt my map readin’.”

You fold the map up and tuck it away. “I’m sure he does, he just can’t talk.”

Bill looks over at you with a smirk. “Maybe he just don’t talk ta you.”

“Oh, Billy, sweetheart, if he could talk we would be going on about you all day.”

Despite the blush on his face, Bill leans towards you a bit. “You’d talk ‘bout be all day? I that special, darlin’?”

“You’re so fucking stupid.” You mutter, tugging Bill closer by his shirt so you can kiss him over the gap between your horses.

Brown Jack helps, stepping closer to your horse so you can pepper Bill’s face with kisses as he turns red up to his hair. Bill leans into your touches, happily smiling when you press gentle kisses to his skin and his beard.

“Ya love me though.” He mutters, his voice a little breathless.

“I’m reading the map next time, okay?” You smile, giving him one last kiss to his lips before letting your horse step back.

“Fine.” He chuckles. “Ya gonna get us ta town now?”

You sigh. “Suppose I’ll have to pay for a hotel room too, since it’s so late and all.”

Bill looks down at his saddle as he blushes again. “Long as Dutch don’t get mad.”

“He sent us out together, he should know better by now.” You smirk, letting a hand reach across to rest on his thigh and squeezing. “Can’t keep my hands off of such a good looking outlaw.”

Bill smiles to himself, glancing up at you and back to his saddle. “Yer sweet, darlin’.”

“Of course I am.” You give him one more squeeze before taking your hand back. “Now, let’s get going. I wanna see those thighs of yours as soon as I can.”

With a blush fixed under his beard and all the way up to his ears, Bill follows you down the path. He’s a little glad he got the two of you lost.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption x reader #bill williamson #bill williamson x reader #bill williamson x male reader #red dead redemption x male reader #x reader #x male reader #fictober

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infernalodie · 1 year

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𝐈𝐟 𝐈 𝐊𝐧𝐞𝐰 || 𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐕𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐧

“𝘖𝘩, 𝘰𝘩, 𝘰𝘩, 𝘐, 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘛𝘰 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘐𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦'𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘐𝘧 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦“

Inspo: Bruno Mars - If I Knew

Pairing: Jules Vaughn x Hispanic!Male!reader

Summary: You might’ve never done the things you did if you knew it would’ve been you and Jules endgame...

Warnings: Angst

Words: 1626

When Jules first came to Highland, she never expected her first night to meet you and your friends. Parading up and down the block that she lived on singing incorrect lyrics. You, seemed to be the leader of the group, holding a case of beers that you clearly shouldn’t have had at your age. But still, you and your little band of misfits marched up and down her street. It would be a lie if Jules said she didn’t watch from her window in amusement. Well, at least until the flashing lights of a cop cruiser got your guys’ attention, causing the five of you to run from the police.

From that day on, Jules had some sort of inkling as to what to expect from her move and a new place to call her home. And when she officially met you, it was the same night she first met Nate Jacobs.

“You’re new, right?” A voice inquired from behind Jules, who was pouring herself a drink. When she swivelled around in surprise. She found the warm gaze of you, standing only a few inches taller than her, but your stature did nothing to intimidate her. If anything, it made her feel safe and the faintest tickling of butterflies in her stomach. But that might just be the goofy smile that danced on your lips.

“Jules Vaughn, a pleasure to meet you.“ She extended her hand towards you, to which you took it and shook it. Your hands were calloused, especially the tips of your fingers. Jules wondered if you did construction or something that would make your hands so rough to the touch. But you were attractive and also didn’t think that you would waste your time with a job that you couldn’t use your looks to capitalize on. “You may not know, but my first night moving here, you were parading up and down my street. Pretty loud.”

Although her words could be deciphered as frustration, you quickly picked up on the teasing tone her words were masked in. Making you laugh softly and lean against the kitchen counter with a sigh. Nodding your head with a smirk etched on your lips. A look Jules knew would make her frustrated with given time. “Gotta live life to the fullest, but I’m sorry chica if I disturbed your sleep.” Smiling down at the girl, you playfully nudged your shoulder against hers. “Y/n Y/L/N,” you greeted before squinting at the girl, pointing a questioning finger toward her. “You want something to drink? I can make a mean drink.”

The offer made Jules smile, nodding as she handed you her red solo cup. “You from the city, hermosa?” You inquired after mixing all the liquids into her drink and handing her the cup.

Before she answered, she took a daring sip. You watched in amusement, eyes flickering down to her lips that she smacked together to overexaggerate her critique of your critically acclaimed drink. And before you knew it, she downed it and sighed, holding the cup out with a smile. “Make me a few more of those and I’ll tell you everything, Guapo.” The use of Spanish made you grin widely as you did a mock bow, making Jules giggle in amusement.

“Whatever you say, Jules.”

Jules had learned the two of you grew up in the same city but on two completely different sides. Both of you lived on two different planets in two different galaxies and two different universes. From everything you had told her, there would’ve never been a chance she would’ve never run into you. Getting locked up into juvenile detention for fighting in school at a young age and trespassing on too many properties to count- Your words, not hers.

Essentially, you were the bad boy of Highland that somehow had fallen into her path. Offering nothing but a kind and comforting smile that made her heart melt. Your personality bright and your smile brighter. The aroma of cigarettes and cheap beer that was your signature fragrance brought calm to her mind every time you were around. If she caught the faintest scent of you, she felt your presence near. And it comforted her in some way.

Things were natural and chaotic for Jules in her first few months of moving to Highland. She’d gotten caught up with Nate Jacobs and his dad. Then you were always there, willing to be the shoulder she could lean on and be a helpful source to take her mind off her problems. Willing to drive her out to the dinner in town to eat or go rollerskating. In an act of kindness, you had introduced her to Rue and your friends who coincidentally were a band, of which you were part of. Taking her out on those parades on a random street before being chased by the police. Although she hated you always putting yourself in danger to do stupid shit, you always reassured her nonchalantly. Giving her that famous smirk of hers as you would casually reassure her that you would never get in trouble over that shit.

But things were good.

But you, you were hopelessly in love with this girl that couldn’t see the signs. Either too caught up in her own thoughts or focused on Rue, who was just as thrilled to have her attention. It wasn’t like you blamed Rue for stealing your bird, but you also knew you weren’t Jules’ keeper. So sadly, you eventually fell to the wayside. Having to sit on the sidelines and watch a love blossom before your eyes.

So, as any confused and frustrated guy would do, you hooked up with girls. Some of whom you knew didn’t deserve your time and attention, but you gave them anyway. Seeking to relieve your mind from the constant hold Jules had on it. Which only prompted Jules to appear far more, badgering you over your stupid decisions. You appreciated that she still cared, but it didn’t fulfill the love you held for her.

It’d always been like this for you at least. Once a kid who grew up in a big city with nothing but time and zero fear. Willing to put your time into people that you knew wouldn’t last. Have sex as much as you wanted with whoever wanted the same. And maybe it fucked you up now because this feeling was so new to you, but you knew what it was and knew what you wanted. Yet, it felt impossible to have the one person you actually pictured spending most of your life with.

“Do you like Lexi?” The question had been enough to throw you off, nearly tripping over your feet as you came out of the bathroom. Staring at Jules, who was sitting on your bed with her phone in hand. She wasn’t even giving you the mercy of holding your gaze and not making you twitch at the rather stupid question.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, walking over and sitting beside the blonde. Rubbing your thumb into your palm to relieve how hard you had been clenching your fists in the bathroom. Trying to find some form of confidence to ask Jules about what had been going on with Rue. This had been the first time in two weeks since she decided to visit you as she had been spending most of her time with the other girl. Leaving you on read and ignoring your phone calls. The once-tamed resentment you felt towards Rue had grown and had been gnawing at your heart. “Do you like Rue?”

That had been enough to make Jules take her eyes off her phone and snap up to you. The reaction made you purse your lips, nodding to yourself. Looking back down at your hands as you chuckled. How stupid of you. Of course, she would. First Rue took your happiness from her being a bitch all the time from her drug addiction, and now she took Jules. Not that you should be surprised either. Spent 2-years with her and helped her through the death of her father, and this is what you got back.

“You know, I actually thought…” Your lips parted, sighing as your jaw jutted to the side. “You may have liked me.”

Jules stared at you, surprised by the confession, lips parting as she tried to find the right words to respond. But the longer she was silent, the worst the feeling in your heart got. The repetitive ache that would never seize until you eventually recovered. But that wouldn’t be for a long, long time.

“I- I did, for a time-” You scoffed standing to your feet and biting your bottom lip. Jules stood up and stared at your back as she stumbled over her words. “But I-I don’t anymore- Not after I met Rue. You sleep around and I don’t know if I wanted to have a guy like that as my boyfriend. I’m sorry, Y/n.” Her phone began to ring, gaining her attention. But you didn’t have to check to know who it was. Turning around and smiling at her sadly with pursed lips.

“Better not keep her waiting,” you commented, sniffling and forcing a smile. “She’s very impatient.” She didn’t know what to say, so she gave you a fleeting glance before rushing out of your room and answering the phone call.

Leaving you a disgruntled and regretful boy, who had fallen for the wrong heart. Maybe in another universe, you may have been different. Maybe you weren’t a rambunctious and tireless boy. And maybe, you would’ve been Jules. But if you knew what could’ve been if you didn’t bring Rue into Jules’ life, perhaps one day Jules would’ve loved you.

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yanphobia · 1 year

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Cleithrophobia - Chapter 7

Cleithrophobia: The fear of being trapped.

Pairing: Yandere Male Drider OC x Reader

Warnings (for the entire story): Yandere, Horror, Graphic Discriptions of Injury and Death, Spiders, NonCon Touching, Possible NonCon (depending on reader’s interpretation), Implied Female Reader (although it doesn’t really factor too heavily into the plot), Extreme Dead Dove Do Not Eat

Chapter 6 Index Chapter 8

Author’s Note: Aaand it's the beginning of the end! Thank you so much for your support! (p.s. this is for your viewing pleasure)

This story was inspired by cobalt-sphinx's Drider x Reader from Quotev.

The door slammed shut behind you as you entered your cabin. You took off your gloves with a bit of difficulty because of how hard your hands were shaking. Deep breaths, you reminded yourself, in, one, two... One would think that, after having so many throughout the years, panic attacks would get easier to deal with.

They were becoming more frequent, too. After you ended your friendship with Mars, your life became much more simple. Wake up, complete your chores for the day, rush to drop Mars’ dinner off at your spot and go to Laura and Stan’s house for dinner. You refused to have anything else to do with him, but you did keep up your end of the deal out of fear of his violent threats. The night after your argument, you heard him approaching as you were quickly leaving down the path, and you kept walking as he called your name. That was two months ago and you haven’t seen him since. Good.

So you kept your routine, every day the same, and you began to feel stifled. There weren’t much in the way of friends in this area, and you were too tired after working all day to really make the trek into town anyway. Any hobbies you tried to take up couldn’t keep your focus. The familiar feelings of being smothered that you had felt before you came here were slowly returning. You didn’t want to live like this, but you also couldn’t leave because of your deal with Mars.

This situation is the cause behind the panic attacks. You felt so trapped, so helpless, and the impending breakdown was getting closer. Right now, you just had to talk yourself through it, and try to relax. Shadow had become a nightly visitor to your cabin who also helped you through your attacks. You held him close and focused on your breathing until your heartbeat began to calm down. Eventually, you were able to. You grabbed Mars’ meal for the night and quickly headed out to leave it out for him.

You kept your thoughts light as usual but were shaken from them when you felt something soft and wet under your foot. Looking down, you saw a rotting slab of beef. The colors had changed from red and white to black and yellow. You retched as you wiped your boot on the damp grass. This was when you noticed the smell, but the strange thing was that it was much stronger than it should’ve been from one steak. You investigated the spot where you had always left his food and were shocked to find many steaks in various stages of decomposition. You hadn’t noticed that they were here before. The snow was in its final stages of melting, with only a few small patches scattered around. Maybe they were hidden underneath it? But in all honesty... you hadn’t been paying attention, either. You would usually stand on the outskirts of the clearing and chuck the steak into it, not really bothering to see where it landed. A bit petty, perhaps, but well deserved.

But looking at all of this meat, you had to wonder... was Mars even still here? He did mention moving around to different spots, once. Or maybe he died? Spiders didn’t typically live through the winter. You weren’t sure if that were the case for his species but looking around you could see that the webs he’d placed there were extremely old and practically dissolved to nothingness. It was obvious – he hadn’t been there in ages.

You laughed. You laughed so hard that tears came out of your eyes. And you laughed as you leisurely strolled all the way back to your cabin. All this stress you had been under, all for nothing! It had felt like you had been wearing invisible shackles, weighing you down so for long, and they’ve had been suddenly removed. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this light and free!

That night, humming to yourself as you chopped up what would’ve been Mars’ steak in your kitchen, you turned to Shadow and held up the pan-seared meat.

“Are you hungry?”

---

“[Y/N]?”

“Hmm?”

“Is everything alright?” Laura asked as the two of you feed the chickens.

“Uh, yes... I’m fine, thank you for asking.”

“Are you sure? You seem very... distant, lately.”

The recent events had caused you to think about the state of your mind. The panic caused by the thought of being trapped in a routine that you hated... it wasn’t normal. You had wanted to believe that you had just needed a change of scenery, but you were only now admitting the truth to yourself. It was pure self-sabotage. You had already identified it to be a fear of commitment, and that was the first step. But constantly running away was not an acceptable way to live your life. You needed to find a way to cope with your fears. The right thing to do now, you imagined, was to make peace.

“Uh... Laura? Can I talk to you about something?”

She stood from her hunched position, dropping the feed back into the feed bag, and wiped her hands off on her thighs. She motioned you over to the porch.

“Let’s sit somewhere comfortable.”

The two of you sat while you explained your situation to her. You knew in your heart that you needed to return home, to apologize to everyone that you’d hurt. Whether or not they accepted it was entirely their choice, and you had no right to demand that they forgive you, but you needed to at least make your regret known. You needed to see someone who could help you look inside of yourself and examine why you feel and act the way that you do. You needed to make a change.

“I love you both so much, and I hate the thought of never seeing you again, but-”

“-But you need to do what’s right for you.” Stan had finished. At one point, he found the two of you on the porch, and you briefly recounted the conversation to him.

“Exactly.”

“Child,” Laura began. “We’ve known from the very beginning that this would happen. We understood that, but we’ve been waiting for you to understand it.” She moved to hug you. “You’ll always have a place here, but right now your home needs you!”

The two of you squeezed each other close for a bit as you blinked back your tears. When you pulled back you saw that her eyes were wet, too.

“Now,” she began, “let’s make these last few nights here be good ones! What do you want for-”

The three of you jumped as you heard a deafening crash. The sounds of glass breaking and metal crunching reverberated throughout the farm and caused many of the animals to start making distressed noises. You all stared at each other in shock before rushing to the source of the sound. Stan cursed and Laura cried out when they saw what lay before them.

Your car and Stan’s truck had been parked side by side. But now, laying perpendicular across them both, was the massive tree that you two had always parked under. The roofs were caved in and the hoods had crumbled under the weight of the trunk. They were utterly destroyed.

“No,” cried Laura as her tears began to fall, “No! Stan, what is this? We can’t afford to fix this!”

Stan stared in disbelief at the scene before him. “That tree is... old. It’s been there since I were a boy. The winter weather... that rotted it. All it needed was a little bit of wind- just a bit- to knock it over. We should’ve... we should’ve had it cut down years ago. God dammit! Why didn’t we do that?!”

He rambled on as he tried to justify it to himself. Dread spread throughout your body like a disease and settled in the pit of your stomach. You stared down at the gravel beneath you. You didn't want to look around and notice that there was no wind today. You didn’t want to look at the tree. You didn’t want to see that it had been uprooted and not tipped over. And more than anything else, you did not want to look at the entrance of the woods.

#yandere writing #tw yandere #yandere stories #yandere male #yandere #yandere fiction #drider oc x reader #yandere drider #drider x reader #drider #terato x reader #terato #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #cleithrophobia

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nokacchan · 1 year

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We Are Just Classmates | Before School's Out | Yang Jeongin

pairing : yang jeongin x fem!reader

genre : fluff

≡;- ꒰ blurb ꒱ : The two despise each other as much as they would say however when the school graduation is nearing, jeongin can't help but admit his feelings for his long time enemy.

w.c 2.6k

≡;- ꒰ masterlist ꒱

It wasn't a surprise to anyone that you and jeongin don't get along.

Even a toddler can tell you both don't get along well. It was hard to say you hate him. It was more like you both seemed to get annoyed by each other easily. Others in your class & sometimes even your teacher says you both just pinning each other and your feelings for each other are mutual. However, the both of you would always give off the same response.

"We are just classmates"

Everyone in your class is sick and tired of hearing the same dumb line reused again and again. The both of you were constantly on each other's throat, making your teacher's job a pain in the a**

When your teacher thought enough was enough, she decides to put an end to your both almost 3 years of pinning. (more so your guy's constant screaming during her lesson)

"That's it. Yang Jeongin! Y/n L/n! Both of you, out of my classroom", your teacher kicked you both out of the classroom for the first time ever. Usually she'll just let you both be, probably this was her last straw, you thought to yourself.

You let out a frustrating yell before leaning against the wall. You looked over to jeongin, thinking he was going to join you, instead the male just walked off to the other end of the hallway.

"Jeongin, where are you going? Ms Cha will kill us if we wander around", you told him.

Jeongin let out a scoff. "Y/n. Ms Cha kicked us out of the classroom, so we are free to roam around. You can stay here if you want but I'm going to the vending machine. Bye~", jeongin quickly walked off.

Your eyes widened, eruptly standing up on your feet, quickly catching up with him. Jeongin let out a soft chuckle, he knew you would follow him, knowing you for many years, you'd rather be stuck with him then be left alone in the hallway.

"I think Ms Cha is so done with us", you told him. Jeongin nodded his head in agreement as he leaned back against the wall.

"I never seen Ms Cha that angry before", jeongin let's out a chuckle. You raised your brows at him. Jeongin grinned at you before leaning his head against your shoulder. "what are you doing stupid", you pretended to move away, making jeongin wrap his arms around you while still resting his head on your shoulder. "trying to sleep stupid. now don't move about alright", he mocked you back.

Your heart was thumping fast at the close proximity. A grin appeared on jeongin face, he could feel your racing heartbeat.

"Eh~ is y/n nervous around me? you're cute", jeongin teased you, shutting his eyes, pretending to sleep.

Your cheeks burn up in red, realizing he could feel your racing heartbeat. "N-No I'm not", you tried to stand your point.

Jeongin opened his eyes. Moving his head to rest his chin on your shoulder, making both of your faces inches apart from each other. "Really? Then why are you flustered?", he grinned at you.

You looked into his cat-like eyes. Trying to make up a random reason, avoiding the real answer of your huge crush on him.

"I like you", jeongin smiled softly at you. Your cheek. became redder than before. "Y-you what?", you blinked blankly at him.

Jeongin moved back, giving you room to breathe.

"I said what I said...

I like you y/n l/n"

Well that's one way to make your heart combust.

The End.

taglist (open) ;; @asfreeastheuniverse @todorokiskitten @kpflyn @ybflkmj @taeriffic @kpoproyal @amara-mars @bananaxsydeee @sweetrabbit @lilydaisyyy @hakkaist // send an ask to be added for this series taglist.

— likes/reblogs/feedbacks are greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading<3

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 1 year

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Coming Home - Bonus Chapter 2 - Lucien’s Cottage

Lucien x Reader

Okay, I got a tad carried away with with this 🤣 but who cares, it’s Lucien content 🤷🏻‍♀️

The story of how Y/N and Lucien met while she was travelling. Enjoy!

If you missed the other bonus chapter, you can read it here!

Warnings: SMUT. SMUT. SMUT. 🌶️

⧪

It felt like you’d been walking for days upon days upon days.

You didn’t know how mortals did it – how they could stand such slow, dragging journeys on foot.

The Wall surely had to be close by now, if you’d calculated correctly. And stupidly, you’d winnowed so much that your magic reserves were depleted, useless until you stopped to rest. So you had nothing but your feet to carry you to the Spring Court border and beyond.

After the first hour of walking, you were sick of your own thoughts. Tired from days of travel and not much sleep. The weapons you carried on you felt heavier than they normally did.

The only indication that you’d crossed over into Spring was the lush green of the forest you found yourself in – so rich, vibrant, with sweet-smelling flowers and petals and leaves of every shade you could think of. You’d never visited the Spring Court before – never had a particular desire to, after what its High Lord and his sons had done to you – but it was a well known fact that its gardens and landscapes were second to none.

Still, you didn’t plan to stick around in a place where such poison had lived and breathed – the main reason you’d not stopped to rest. Just get to The Wall. Get to The Wall, and cross over into the mortal lands, and then you can find an inn and sleep for as long as you damn well please.

For all the woods, and the sprawling estates they bordered, were beautiful, the sky wasn’t the spring blue that you’d hoped for to make your journey that bit easier. Dark, angry clouds had begun to crowd the sky, painting it with darkness. It made the towering trees feel slightly ominous.

You relented, eventually, and stopped – embarrassingly worn out for a High Fae who should have been able to walk to the ends of the world. But your body was begging for rest – just a small sit-down, you promised yourself – and that was how you found yourself kneeling on a riverbank, dipping your hands into the crystal clear water.

You drank greedily – hadn’t even noticed quite how badly you’d needed it, until the cool water ran down your throat in such a satisfying, glorious way. You used it to scrub dirt and sweat from your face, and savoured the feeling of clarity that washed over you, basked in it–

Perhaps that was why you hadn’t heard the approaching footsteps until they were right behind you.

No, not footsteps. The rhythmic clopping of a horse’s hooves. You turned just slightly, threw a glance over your shoulder.

The male astride the horse was nothing short of a magnificent vision.

Bright red hair that could have given any of these spring flowers a run for their money. Golden skin that seemed to glint and glow, and deep, russet eyes–

No – only one russet eye. The left side of his face was brutally marred, a pink, jagged scar cutting through where his left eye should have been, but had been replaced by a gold, metal one that seemed to move of its own accord as he studied you. The scar seemed fairly recent – even with the brilliant magic of fae healing. With your knowledge of healing, you suspected he’d only received the injury anywhere from a matter of months to a year or so ago.

Stunning. He was stunning.

He took in the sight of you on that riverbank, his thick, defined brows furrowing.

“Can I be of some assistance, lady?” He asked.

“Nope.” You stood up, dusting dirt and leaves from your breeches. “Unless you can tell me how close I am to The Wall.”

He cocked an eyebrow, as if such a question surprised him. “I’d say about a day away – on foot. On a good day.” He glanced up at the sky. “But there’s a storm approaching.”

You swore under your breath, reaching for the small bag you carried with you. You’d thought you’d made more progress than that. Walking was so fucking mind-numbing.

“Dare I ask why a beautiful lady such as yourself is travelling alone in the woods – towards The Wall?” The male asked, rubbing the neck of his white horse as it moved restlessly.

“I’m going to the mortal lands.” You shrugged. “But thank you – for the compliment. I’m honoured that a stranger deems me too beautiful to travel alone.”

He stared at you – and snorted at the sarcasm dripping from your tone. It was as you approached him that you got a better look at him, although the light was rapidly fading with the gathering storm.

But you’d know those famous features anywhere – silky red hair, russet eyes…you didn’t know why you hadn’t clocked it straight away.

“You’re a Vanserra, aren’t you?” You said.

“I am…” He eyed you with a lick of suspicion. “Do we know each other?”

“No. But I am curious to know what a Vanserra is doing across the Spring border.”

“What are you doing across the Spring border?”

“As I said.” You breezed past him, patting his horse as you passed. “I’m travelling to The Wall.”

That perfectly arched eyebrow cocked again. “Not any time soon, you’re not. With the torrential rain that’s coming, you’ll barely be able to see your own hand in front of your face.”

You wanted to throw your head back and let out an infantile groan – but no way would you do so in front of a Vanserra. The males of the Autumn Court were notoriously smooth, dripping with charisma. And though they didn’t exactly have a good history with your own court, you didn’t plan to embarrass yourself in front of the glorious male before you.

“It doesn’t storm here very often.” He said, eyeing you. “But when it does, it’s relentless. There’s no way you’ll be able to travel through it.”

“Fantastic.” You sighed. “I guess I’m finding a tree to shelter under for the night.”

“That’s absurd – you won’t be any better off.”

“Yes, well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t have a pretty horse to gallop me away like you do, so…”

Your words trailed off as he rolled his eyes – and jumped down from the horse. The sculpt of his muscles pressed through the material of his tunic and breeches as he moved towards you, holding out a hand.

“What are you doing?” You stepped back.

“Helping you up.” He said. “There’s an old cottage not too far from here that I was going to shelter in until the storm passed. You’ll be far more comfortable there.”

You studied him, narrowing your eyes. Clearly, he couldn’t possibly know who you were – the High Lord of the Night Court’s sister – or he no doubt would have left you to get soaked and battered by the storm. But you’d learned to be cautious of everyone you’d met on the road, learned to question their intentions–

And with the reputation of the Vanserras…

“And why would you help me?” You asked, folding your arms. “We’re strangers.”

“Perhaps I have a soft spot for pretty ladies with mud and leaves in their hair.”

Your cheeks burned. But before you could reach up and tug your fingers through the knotted strands, he was lifting you into his arms with barely a blink, and you yelped as he set you atop the horse.

“Hold on.” He murmured as he settled behind you, the heat of his body pressing through your tunic. He grabbed your hands, closing them around the reins, and with a gentle command to his horse, you were moving.

“My name is Lucien, by the way.”

⧪

What Lucien Vanserra had failed to mention was that the old cottage was, in fact, an ancient, decrepit, crumbling cottage that couldn’t be much more secure than any tree you would have found to shelter you.

There was hardly anything in there, aside from a few scattered bits of wooden furniture and a soot-sodden hearth. You watched as Lucien trudged in with a pile of wood in his arms, and knelt down before the hearth. With a flick of his hand, a fire had roared to life.

Autumn Court magic. It was rather breathtaking up-close.

“Are you sure this place is secure?” You folded your arms around yourself, studying the cramped area from where you hovered in the doorway. “It doesn’t look like it could weather a storm.”

“Sturdier than it looks.” Lucien glanced at you over his shoulder, his red, silken hair rippling with his movement. “And you’d be more comfortable than you look, if you sat down. You don’t need to worry, lady – I’ve sheltered here before.”

You hesitated – not that you were actually considering running back out into the torrential downpour that had started just as you’d arrived, but because you couldn’t help being suspicious of his goodwill. He had the smooth lexis of a Vanserra, undoubtedly – you could understand why so many males and females alike seemed to worship the Autumn males. But from experience – from what you knew about Eris Vanserra’s behaviour towards your own cousin – you didn’t imagine Lucien was offering you shelter without expecting something in return.

Slowly, you inched over to a small wooden table and perched yourself atop of it. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Lucien rose from the hearth, his back muscles rippling through his white tunic. He rolled the sleeves up as he turned to you. “Which question would that be?”

“I asked what an Autumn Court male was doing across the Spring border.”

“Ah – that.” He strode across the room, rifling through a leather satchel that he’d unstrapped from his horse.

You couldn’t help watching him – admiring him. The growing flames in the hearth seemed to offset the gold of his skin and make it glow, make the corded muscles of his arms visible underneath those rolled-up sleeves.

Something about them – watching them flex and shift with his movements – made you squeeze your legs together.

You’d definitely been on the road too long.

“A Vanserra I may be,” He eventually said, turning back round to face you. “But I’m no longer a part of the Autumn Court. I’m emissary to the Spring Court now.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You switched sides? Very scandalous.”

“I have a…strained relationship with my family. Namely my father.”

“Snap. My father was a prick.”

“Oh? Which court do you belong to?”

Many, many times, you’d been asked that question since you’d left Velaris. People were naturally suspicious of an outsider journeying through their lands, and you’d had a run-in with so many guards, Rhys would go spare if he knew.

But you’d managed to avoid answering – to keep your anonymity, lest anyone tip your family off to where you were. Or use you to get to them. When you were nameless, boring, the other courts saw no reason to bother with you; no reason to view you as anything other than a restless young female living a nomadic lifestyle.

You weren’t about to falter now – particularly not in the Spring Court, of all places. Just in case High Lord Tamlin learned of your presence in his lands and came to finish off what his father had started.

So you simply smiled at Lucien. Told him, “I belong to no one.”

He raised an eyebrow, dragging a chair closer and perching backwards on it. “You must hail from somewhere.”

“Must I?”

He stared at you over the back of his chair, folding his forearms against it. The breeches cut close to his legs as they hung either-side. Muscled. Thick. You wondered what they looked like beneath the material.

His gaze was…a combination of different things. Narrowed, like he was trying to puzzle you out and finding it annoying, but also amused, and – and wild. Calculating. Like he was sizing up a challenge. One side of his mouth kicked up into a smirk.

“Who are you?” He seemed desperate for the answer.

You shrugged. Casual. Nonchalant. “My name is Y/N.”

“And your family name?”

“Is irrelevant.” You jumped from the table, moving closer to the fire.

His eyes followed every one of your movements. “Is that all I get?”

“Yep.”

A deep, silky laugh rumbled from his chest, the sound of it reaching out to you, caressing your skin that felt like it was already freezing. It was a pleasant sound; warm and sensual. Intriguing.

“Okay.” He murmured, standing from the chair. “In that case, would you like a drink? It’ll help you to forget that you’re cold, if nothing else.”

You rounded on him, shot him that same, close-lipped smile. “A drink sounds wonderful.”

⧪

He’d been right – the rain was coming down, vicious and hard.

Hard enough that it sounded like rocks slamming against the roof. But with the whiskey that was warming your belly, it became nothing but background noise. And the combination of intoxication, and the roaring fire, meant that you barely noticed the cold, either.

Lucien was interesting. Perhaps one of the most interesting people you’d met while travelling – or ever, really. He’d done some travelling himself, having never had any interest in being High Lord of the Autumn Court. He’d coasted from place to place and made friends with people who were supposed to be enemies.

The two of you had taken to sitting on the floor beside the hearth, and you drank – and drank, and drank, and drank, – as he regaled you with tales of his adventures and troubles he’d gotten himself into – and out of. After an hour, it felt like you were talking to an old friend.

You were still laughing at his latest story as he handed you the bottle of whiskey you’d been passing back and forth. Your hands briefly brushed as you accepted it, and he sat back, leaning on his palms as he watched you take a swig.

“You said you’re going to the mortal lands?” He tilted his head. He’d loosely tied his hair back with a leather thong, but strands had already begun to fall around his face again. “Whatever for?”

You shrugged, savouring the muted burn of the alcohol as you swallowed. “I said I wanted to see the world, and I meant it. I want to see all of it. And I have no issue with mortals. The idea of living amongst them, seeing their ways, interests me.”

“They’ll have an issue with you. They hate our kind. They won’t want you there.”

“Well.” You smiled. Took another swig. “I’m well-versed in being unwanted.”

That smouldering, russet stare zeroed in on you, the metal eye moving down your body and back up. The expression on his face – the one of intrigue, of challenge – had only strengthened with each topic of conversation you’d got through. You could practically feel the frustration dripping from him. The need to break through your guard.

“Tell me about you.” He said – not for the first time. He prised the bottle from your hands, taking a swig.

“I told you already.” You smiled. “I’ve lived a sheltered life and I’m ready to see more. Which is why I’m travelling.”

“But there’s more to tell.”

“Of course.” You laughed softly. “Isn’t there always? But why should I tell a stranger such things?”

He smirked. “I’d quite like to know who I’ve offered to shelter with for the night. For all I know, you’ll stab me through the heart as soon as I’m asleep.”

“Well.” You scooted closer. Closer. Until your knees touched. You took the bottle from him, lifting it to your lips. “There’s a solution for that.”

His eyes fell to your mouth. “What’s the solution?”

“Neither of us sleep. And I won’t stab you, and you won’t stab me.”

He snorted. “And how do you suggest, lady, that we wile away the hours whilst the storm rages outside?”

It was you staring at his mouth, then. The way one side of his lips lifted into a lopsided grin, or a sensual smirk, was something that had been slowly driving you mad and heating you all over since you’d sat down together.

You knew precisely how you wished to wile away the gods-damn hours. How you wished to keep warm.

You pushed up onto your knees, so much closer to him like this. Close enough that you could smell the whiskey on him. “You tell me, Vanserra.”

His head tilted. “Well…you could tell me more about who you are. Where you’ve been. What makes you…”

His words trailed off as your fingers brushed his leg. His gaze fell, watching as you danced your hand over his knee, and slowly, slowly up, over his thigh.

“Hmm?” You hummed, coaxing his eyes back to yours. So near – your fingers were so, so near to his crotch. “What makes me what?”

He cleared his throat. Swallowed. “...What makes you…uh…tick. Or…or what interests you.”

“I could.” You nodded, stilling your hand. “I could take my hand off you right now and tell you all the boring ins and outs of my life – if that’s what you want.”

“No.”

The word was almost a snarl. You laughed breathily, your fingers climbing up his leg once more.

“So just to clarify,” You mused. “You don’t want me to stop touching–”

There was no chance to finish the sentence as Lucien surged forward and claimed your mouth in a hungry kiss. His large, warm hand cupped the back of your head, fingers slipping through the strands of your hair. He pulled you closer, nipping your bottom lip.

The pleasant pinch of pain had you gasping – and opening up to him. He slid his tongue into your mouth, invading you with his smoky taste of whiskey and fire. While your hand continued to stroke up his leg, you moved the other to his shirt, fisting the fabric.

“So,” You pulled away just slightly, breathing against his lips, “You want me to touch you?”

That russet eye flared. “I think I may die if you don’t.”

You laughed softly – and pulled away as he tried to slide his lips over yours again. You were faster than him, instead place a kiss to his jaw, and then his neck, and then against the small strip of his skin that poked out from beneath his crumpled white shirt.

“I want this off.” You murmured, unfastening the buttons. You practically yanked the shirt down his arms, baring his firm, muscled chest and stomach.

He shivered as you touched a hand to his chest – and yet his skin was so gloriously warm. You wondered if fire truly lived inside of him, if Autumn Court magic was an inferno in the veins of the Vanserras.

If he was shuddering, in fact, from your touch, rather than the cold.

You dipped your head, licking a stripe across his pectoral muscles, and you felt him jerk just slightly beneath you, hissing between his teeth.

“A tad sensitive, aren’t you?” You chuckled, dragging your tongue lower. Over his stomach, all the dips and lines there.

Lucien bit down on his lip, watching you intently. “It’s kind of hard not to be with a pretty lady licking me.”

“The pretty lady can stop if it’s too much for you.”

“Don’t you dare.”

As if to push his point, he bucked his hips – and you smirked. You locked your eyes with his as you undid the buttons fastening his breeches. Your movements were slow, unhurried, as you tugged them down.

The length of him sprung free. Hard. Taught. Thick and long.

“Lucien Vanserra,” Your voice was a teasing lilt as you dipped your head, blowing a breath against the head of his cock. “Is there a part of you that isn’t beautiful?”

His breath hitched in his throat, and he seemed to be incapable of an answer as you poked out your tongue and slowly, slowly, allowed it to touch the very tip of his cock.

“Gods.” He gritted his teeth, his hips jerking. In an attempt to steady himself, he slammed a hand down on the floor – and sent the bottle of whiskey flying.

Neither of you paid it any mind as the liquid sloshed onto the ground.

“Very sensitive, indeed.” You hummed. And took him into your mouth.

The groan that ripped through his throat was animalistic. His other hand landed on the back of your head, twisting within your hair as you took him in further, further, until the head of his cock touched the back of your throat.

“Oh fuck.” He hissed. “I am not going to last.”

Your answering chuckle was a delicious vibration as you slowly moved up again, tracing your tongue over the bold, sensitive vein that seemed to already be pulsing and throbbing. You wrapped your hand around the base of him and returned your attention to the head, where you swirled your tongue, and put the slightest of pressures on the little indentation just beneath. Lucien’s head fell back, a moan and a string of curses falling from his lips.

“Shit, shit, shit.” He gasped.

“Right there?” You smirked, pressing your tongue against the indentation again.

“You have no idea—gods.” His hips bucked once, twice, and then he was spilling into your mouth, his groans and growls utterly feral, guttural.

You swallowed every drop of him, allowing him to take the reins as he gripped onto your hair and fucked into your mouth, the waves of his release barreling through him with such force, he trembled. His cock was still twitching, his breaths heaving, as he pulled out of your mouth and stared at you.

“Who are you?” He breathed, repeating his earlier words. “The fucking Mother must have sent you to me.”

You snorted. “Well that was fun.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “If you think I’m done with you yet, you’re very much mistaken. I can smell how wet you are from here.”

Oh. You didn’t doubt he could. You were dripping in your underwear, clenching your thighs together for any little, pathetic bit of friction. Lucien smirked wickedly at you.

“Your turn, lady.”

You let yourself fall back, and you were tingling all over as he moved to hover over you. Each bit of clothing he removed was replaced with the brushing off his lips – over your breasts, your nipples, your stomach, as he pulled your shirt off and threw it aside. The cold air immediately made your nibbles pebble, and you felt him smirk against you, his teeth grazing the sensitive nubs.

He was hardening against you already. You reached down, wanting to feel him again, to hear those delicious noises–

“Uh-uh, not yet.” He chuckled deeply, his lips brushing over your navel. “I want to have some fun with you first.”

Any response you could come up with completely eddied from your mind as he yanked your breeches and underwear down in one go – fabric ripping and buttons flying everywhere.

“Oops.” He murmured, chucking them behind him. “Sorry.”

You sucked in a sharp breath as the cold air hit your now-exposed centre. “You don’t sound very—oh gods.”

He didn’t hesitate – not for a second. His breath was warm against you, wayward strands of his hair tickling your skin as he dipped his head.

And licked a strip right up your centre.

You immediately fisted those strands of hair within your hands, tugging just slightly. Your hips bucked as his tongue slowly licked up, up towards your clit.

“Who’s the sensitive one now?” Lucien chuckled deeply, and the sound was pure, molten lava that spread through you and licked its way over your body.

His tongue swirled your clit, the tip of it flicking right over that hyper-sensitive spot. You were gasping, writhing, your head falling back and your back arching.

“Oh fuck.” If this was what a Vanserra could do with his mouth, you wanted all of them, at once, immediately. You bucked your hips towards him, a moan ripping through you as he sucked on your clit – and inserted a finger into you. “Gods–Lucien.”

You were gonna cum—and fall off the world, and not stop falling. There wasn’t a part of you that didn’t feel perfect, and ecstatic, and like lightning all over–

But then he just stopped. Pulled his finger out of you. Slid his mouth off you.

You yanked your head up from the floor, a whine of pure desperation escaping you as you met his eyes.

Lucien was smirking down at you. Fisting at his cock. He pumped it once, twice, and lined it up with your centre.

“As much as I want to taste you cumming on my tongue,” He said wickedly. “I think I want you to cum on my cock more.”

A rasp escaped you as you felt the head of his cock press against your entrance. “Why can’t it be both?”

He chuckled. “We have all night.”

And then he pushed into you.

In, and in, and in. It was never-ending, that feeling. The feeling of being stretched, and filled, and torn apart and put back together again.

Lucien’s mouth fell open, a breath falling from his lips as he glanced down, his brow furrowed in full concentration – and desire – as he watched himself push into you.

“Fuck, you’re tight.” He hissed. He stilled, just for a moment – just to give you a chance to adjust. Because you were tight; tight all over. You grabbed his hand and moved it to your breast, and he squeezed.

And then he pulled back out of you. And slammed back in, right to the hilt.

The noise was like no other you’d ever made in your life. Your head fell back, and your mouth opened with a string of moans. Never had you sounded so consumed, so sultry and raspy and sexy.

And it seemed to be driving Lucien Vanserra wild.

His thrusts were hard and fast, relentless and frenzied, as he slammed into you. You could have sworn you felt it – him – in every part of your body. Could have sworn you just about died as he kissed you, and moaned into your mouth.

You moved one hand to his perfectly sculpted ass, encouraging his thrusts. His lips latched onto your neck as his pace picked up – more and more and more, until you could feel yourself beginning to crumble.

“Fuck,” Lucien choked, slamming his hand against the floor – giving himself more purchase to thrust harder, faster. “Cum, Y/N—I can feel you clenching around my cock.”

And gods, you were. Clenching and writhing and completely falling apart. It was too much, too good–

You broke completely when he reached down and pressed a thumb to your clit. That was all it took.

Release barreled through you, so ferocious that you couldn’t form any words – only moan after moan after moan, and you were shaking, gripping and scratching at Lucien’s skin.

You dug your nails in – hard. And Lucien thrust in once more. He went rigid against you as an animalistic growl rumbled out of him.

“Gods…Holy fucking Gods.” He gasped, spilling and spilling and spilling into you. He was twitching inside you, and shaking against you, his hands hard and bruising on your thighs, your hips.

You could only stare up at him. Try to catch your breath. But you were spent. Truly and utterly fucked out. If your eyes were as glazed and cheeks as flushed as his were, you wouldn’t be at all surprised.

“Gods.” He said again, and pulled out of you with a shudder. “That was…gods.”

“Yes.” You whispered breathlessly. “Gods.”

The cottage was suddenly silent – aside from that hammering rain, and the heavy breathing coming from both of you. Lucien sat back, his golden cheeks a rosy pink. He seemed stunned by the force of his own release.

You turned your head to look at him from where you still lay on the floor, and you smirked.

“This was a much better idea than sheltering under a tree.”

⧪

You awoke to sunlight streaming through the dirty windows.

The sky outside was a cerulean blue — the storm well and truly passed.

You were achy from a night sleeping – and fucking – on a hard floor…but the ache was satisfying. Pleasant.

You rolled over to find Lucien still asleep beside you, beautiful and unguarded. His red hair had completely broken from the knot he tied it into, and it splayed around him like flames. A sudden urge rose in you to reach out and touch it. To trace your fingers over his brow and across the jagged line of his scar.

But you simply watched for a while. Last night was the first time in a long, long time you’d felt so good. So…wanted.

And because of a fucking Vanserra, of all the males in Prythian. The thought made you snort. If Rhys knew about this—or Cassian or Azriel—

No. You couldn’t think about them. Couldn’t let yourself get off course, just because of one night of incredible, earth-shattering pleasure. You needed to get back on track and complete your journey to The Wall. You could be in the mortal lands by night time.

You rose from your spot, moving carefully and silently as you stepped around Lucien’s sleeping figure and retrieved your clothes. A tad dirty and ripped, but you could make do until you got to the other side of The Wall.

You dressed quickly, and then grabbed your bag that sat beside Lucien’s leather satchel. You threw one glance back at him before you headed to the door.

You’d barely set a foot out of it before you heard a rustle behind you.

“You’re leaving?” Lucien croaked, his voice heavy with sleep.

“I want to get to The Wall before it gets too dark.” You told him. “But thank you—for helping me. For offering me shelter. And for…”

“The ground-breaking orgasms?” He propped himself up on his elbow. Gazed at you. “Stay. Tell me more about you. I know your name, but I want to know who you are.”

That guarded, close-lipped smile returned to your face. “Can’t. It’s a secret.”

“But–”

“Perhaps we’ll cross paths again someday.” You smirked, stepping out onto the wet soil. “Goodbye, Lucien Vanserra.”

You didn’t wait for his reply as you shut the door behind you and headed off into the forest.

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

Tags: @theravenphoenix26 @safetypinxtales @historygeekqueen @smartiepants217 @mulansaucey @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @issybee0611 @goldentournesol @percyjacksonspeen @high-bi-andreadytocry @esposadomd @positivewitch @bsenpai @cityofidek @shannonsaid @topaz125 @azzydaddy @nobody00sthings @sfhsgrad-blog @elizarikaallen @hanasakr @ruleroftides @mis-lil-red @reiincarnatiion @moonfawnx @new-adventures-every-day @davinaclaire16 @i-am-fascinated @lucyysthings @margssstuff @magneticforceofaswifty @xxoverthinkerxx @marigold-morelli @owllover123 @vera0124 @thewarriormoon @the-book-gnome @favoritecrime1 @pricklepearbloom @icantthinkofanythingplease @ilovespideyyy @kitty-kait @hwas-housewife @localhopedealerr @magical-mischief-makers @holywolfsstuff @grungy-blue-hipster

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liminalpebble · 8 months

Note

Sorry you’re dealing with travel delays! When you mentioned Domhnall Gleeson, though, it reminded me of when I first switched my Siri voice to the British male one. (I was going to say “don’t ask why” but I’m sure you don’t need to.) And my husband and I used my Siri to direct us to the science museum…

My husband looked at me like 😒

“Why is Hux directing us to the butterfly conservatory? 😒”

(It’s just the slightest vocal similarity, and maybe just to him and me, but it made me laugh)

Hello there sweet Lady!

And thank you for the fun prompt. It definitely kept my imagination occupied during the travel blues. I hope you enjoy this little bit of swooning over villainous British voices. This is new for me. I've never written Hux, second-person perspective, gender neutral reader, or a short drabble before, so lots of firsts!

Much love!

Peb

-----

The Sound of Your Cold Voice

Pairing: General Hux x gender neutral reader, second-person insert (no use of y/n)

CW: wartime violence, reader is wounded and captured, implied later smut but none described, implied future dubcon situation. Minors DNI

Word count: 500-600

---

Drifting back from unconsciousness, the first thing you heard was that voice; crisp, cold, polished, sharp enough to enact death by a thousand subtle, strategic, cuts. It was mesmerizing, pulling you back to wakefulness with an iron grip. Your eyelids flutter open to a mere squint under the bright lights and shiny black surfaces. There's something covering your mouth, pushing air into your lungs and you breathe it in desperately.

A mirthless chuckle. “Ah. There you are. Welcome back.” He gives an order and the mask is gone, the air is gone, and his threatening presence seems to steal all of it from the room. “Leave us,” he commands the medical technicians, and you hear them funnel out with a hiss of the door.

It comes back to you; the research station you were working on marred by flames and swarming with storm troopers. You were injured badly and so were your colleagues (the ones who were still alive, anyway). You were shoved before him, hands cuffed behind your back, and soot staining your white lab uniform. His shiny boots striding purposefully towards you were all you could see as your head hung in shock and grief.

“And what have we here?” he inquired, lifting your chin with one long, leather-clad finger.

He didn't expect to be struck by how beautiful your face was; compassionate and clever eyes, a bravery in them despite overwhelming fear. Even covered in soot and abrasions, hair disheveled, it only made him want you more. It jostled his immaculate composure and made him warm under the crisp black uniform, but he would never show it.

You spoke, though your voice shook with fear and anger. “A scientist...just a scientist. This was a peaceful operation, a research facility...Why? Why did you have to do this?”

Hux wasn't accustomed to emotion breaching his Teflon coating of ambition, but something about the vulnerability in your voice made him ache to touch you, soothe you with that hypnotic voice telling you it was all for a greater good, of course, all for order in the galaxy, you sweet innocent darling. He settled on doing so, but with a shield of sardonic teasing.

He tutted, yanking your face to meet his eyes with that icy, gloved hand. Hux peaked his brows in mock sympathy, though his piercing green eyes held none. “Oh, but it is all for the greater good, my dear. You'll see.” His voice dropped to a deep whisper, as his face moved closer. “And it will be my pleasure to personally show you.” As the implication of his words set in, you felt horrified at the unbidden heat rising in your body; the unmistakable fizzle of arousal snaking its way between your legs. He loomed, tall and thin, that brilliant red hair and green eyes reminding you of a fox playing with an injured rodent.

Now, with your back against the cold medical slab, prone and vulnerable and isolated with the dreaded General Hux, terror and temptation swirled within your body. His face, that beautiful lethal face, moved to a hair's breadth form your own as your breaths became shorter and quicker. His hand cupped your cheek gently, this time without the wall of leather between your skin. A tear slid from your eye and he brushed over it gently with his thumb.

“Now, darling,” the general said, with surprising tenderness, “Where were we?”

@ladyofthestayingpower @cloudyfacewithjam @lemongingerart @huxs-side-part

#general hux fanfic #general hux x reader #general hux x gn reader #armitage hux #lovely mutuals #lovely asks #lovely fanfic friends #lovely prompts

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folkookie97 · 2 months

Text

— clara, 21, she/her. 💌

— brazilian ficwriter, angst & smut.

— INTP-T, enneagram 6w5, caprincorn sun, taurus rising & moon, sagittarius venus, scorpio mars.

— jungkook utted, taehyung & yoongi biased. bts stan since dope era 2015.

— fav movies: hunger games (all of them but especially catching fire & tbosas), the notebook, priscilla, twilight saga, scream (1996), titanic, pride & prejudice, little women (2019).

— fav TV shows: daisy jones & the six, gilmore girls, bridgerton, the haunting of hill house, grey's anatomy, friends, YOU, gossip girls

— fav artists: bts, taylor swift, ryan gosling, jacob elordi, margot robbie, emma stone, tom hiddleston, lana del rey, tom blyth.

— more random facts: i'm 5′ 2. my fav album is folklore (taylor swift) and my fav song EVER is "all too well" but that 10 minute version. i'll graduate in education degree in december. i'm left-handed and my fav colors are pink and red.

💌 i love writing smut and i also love writing angst with some BTS members x Female Reader/Female OC. i like exploring AUs and writing prompts inspired by songs too.

💌 sometimes i like to write darkfics (and the characters aren't always good people, but anyone who reads fanfic should know that these things have anything to do with the real-life members).

💌 on this account i usually pick writing ONLY about my biases (mainly jungkook, who's my ultimate). in no way am i belittling the other members, cuz i love them too, but i just feel more comfortable this way. i hope you respect that. <3

💌 but if i ever write something about them, i'll add it to the alternative masterlist.

💌 if any of my writing involve love triangles (or something like that) with the other members, I'll add it to the 2 masterlists (the real main and the alternative).

💌 THINGS I REALLY DON'T WRITE ABOUT: pedophilia, incest (step-incest MAYBE), rape/non-con (dub-con MAYBE), male!reader or male!oc, ABO, anything sexual involving poop. anyway, there are several other criminal things that are kind of obvious too, right?

💌 REQUESTS: closed for now, but you can feel free to send me messages suggesting some idea. <3

💌: all my fics are crossposted on my ao3.

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calehenituse-brainrot · 2 years

Text

Tired and Sore

Cale Henituse x Reader x Kim Rok Soo

content warning: poor writing.

+ threesome, unprotected sex, oral sex (receiving, giving), stuffing (with underwear), anal, double penetration, creampie

"What if it hurts...?"

A kiss was placed on the back of your neck and despite the warmth of the kiss and the body heat that radiated from the person, you felt chills going down your spine. Large, calloused hands marred with scars held you by your arms, gently massaging you.

"Just say the word," the person behind you says. "And we'll stop."

You gulped, readjusting your position on the seat, feeling mildly uncomfortable with how the butterflies in your stomach are fluttering and the wetness that has pooled in your underwear. "O-okay."

You can hear the two males let out a satisfied chuckle.

The person behind you helped you to stand up from your seat and you followed your lover when he held out his hand, soft and clean, so very different from the ones that are guiding you to the king-sized bed.

"Come here, [Name]," Cale, your lover, called for you with a voice so gentle, a tone he'd always use on you when there's only the two of you. He was already sitting on the bed, only left with a bathrobe just like Kim Rok Soo who stands behind you. "Get on the bed and take off your chemise."

You felt the scarred hands lets go of you and you immediately approach the bed, flinching when you feel your ass getting pinched before you go. You glanced back at the person with a red-face, looking at the tall, muscular man with dark hair and russet eyes that's so similar to Cale's, scars covering his body -- visible with the loose bathrobe he had on.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Kim Rok Soo asked with a grin, a grin that feels the same as Cale's -- sly and smug.

"Pervert." You stuck your tongue at him, walking back to the bed and getting on top of it.

Cale stared at Kim Rok Soo, an eyebrow raised in question while the man in question only kept his grin, watching as you took off the transparent chemise from your body and peel off your underwear, throwing them carelessly to the corner and blinking in surprise when Kim Rok Soo caught it.

"Don't throw things so recklessly in the bedroom," Kim Rok Soo told you off, placing it back on the bed and crawling to be beside you while Cale stays on the other side.

"[Name]." Cale's voice calls for you, his hand caressing your jaw before pulling you to face him, your lips meeting his in a sweet kiss. You wrapped one hand around his neck, tugging on his long red hair and humming in satisfaction.

Cale slipped his tongue inside and ravaged your mouth with it. You let him suck on your tongue and swap spit with you, rendering you breathless and wetter. He kissed you until saliva were dripping from the corner of your mouth to the bed, both of you too preoccupied to clean it up.

You felt something rough began to gently caress your naked chest. Even without looking, you can tell it was Kim Rok Soo. With your other hand, you grabbed his hand and led them to grab your breast properly, nipples perking up when the rough pad of his fingertips glides across your nipple. Kim Rok Soo opened his mouth, kissing the area around your nipple and sucking on them, leaving hickeys and spit all over your breast.

You flinched when Cale's hand began stroking the lips of your pussy, simply coating his fingers with your slick, not penetrating your hole. He gathers the dripping slick with his fingers and drags it to your clit, rubbing the sensitive bud gently and then spreading your slick all over again.

"Mhmm, Cale," you sighed against the man's mouth, feeling Kim Rok Soo finally decided to take in your nipple into his mouth, feeling him roll your nipple with his tongue and sucking on it. He used his teeth to tug at your nipple and you winced, "R-Rok Soo, not too hard--"

"Apologies, sweetheart," replied the man, letting go off your breast only to go to treat the other one the same. You run your hand across his dark hair, pulling on them and letting out quite whines whenever he would tug and bite on them too harsh.

Cale finally pulls away from you, wiping the corner of your mouth with the sleeve of his robe before he took it off, tossing it to the corner of the bed. He went down to your legs, spreading them open and eying the glistening folds of your pussy and the swollen clit.

"Rok Soo," Cale calls for the man and Kim Rok Soo hummed, your nipple still in his mouth. "I want to put her legs on my shoulder."

Kim Rok Soo playfully chewed on your breast before letting go, a string of saliva being left behind before it broke off. With Kim Rok Soo's head no longer weighing you down, Cale pulled your legs until the underside of your knees are on his shoulders. You gulped when instead of immediately putting his mouth on you, Cale was caressing your hip and staring at your pussy with a grin.

"That man is wicked with his tongue," Kim Rok Soo murmured to you, turning your head towards him. "Don't make too much of a noise."

Kim Rok Soo kissed you at the same time Cale decided to lick a long stripe on your folds. You let out a muffled mewl, legs slightly jerking upon the sudden wet and warm contact. Cale sucked on your clit, ignoring how your hand was holding onto his hand that was on your hip, gripping it tight.

"Ssh, love," Cale murmured lovingly against your pussy. "Everything will be fine."

He purposefully began moving his tongue around your hole, holding your hips whenever you'd try to move and get his tongue inside. Cale watches you and Kim Rok Soo as he teases your hole, seeing how the dark-haired man was kissing you and squeezing your breast until they spill from the gaps of his fingers. His rough fingers are flicking and pinching on your nipple, deepening your kiss everytime Cale decided to shove his tongue inside your hole before flicking it out harshly.

"C-Cale--" You managed to whimper out when Kim Rok Soo decided to not rob you too much of your oxygen, moving to kiss you behind the ears and neck.

"Hmm?" Cale weaved his tongue between your folds, letting you to wrap your legs around his head and mewl to your heart's delight as he savored the taste of you.

"J-just like that, Cale," you moaned out. Cale sucked on your folds and then took another long lick from the underside of your clit, circling it teasingly. "Oh, more, more--!"

Cale pulled away for a moment, lips glistening with your slick. "Rok Soo, do you want to try?"

Kim Rok Soo who had been preoccupied with giving you butterfly kisses hummed. "After she comes first."

Kim Rok Soo took off his robe, revealing his erect cock. You gulped seeing the size but couldn't even say anything because Cale was quick to please you with his tongue again.

"F-Fuck," you cursed when Cale sucked your folds, tugging on them as he does so. He went back up to your clit, suckling on the sensitive bud. Your face heats up, feeling the knot in your abdoment slowly beginning to crumble. "C-Cale, Cale, please, please, ohh..."

Kim Rok Soo watches you became undone and Cale lapping up your cum, sucking on the wet folds and clit until he's satisfied. Your legs shook when Cale kissed your folds before he moved to the side while Kim Rok Soo moved to your legs.

Cale admired the way your chest rises up and down as you try to catch your breath. Your neck and breasts are covered with hickeys and saliva here and there, your face flushed red and sweating. You're staring at him with a small grin, absolutely pleased with the situation you're in right now.

"What are you being so quiet for, sweetheart?" cooed Kim Rok Soo. "Cale, spread her open for me."

Cale reached for your thighs and spread them open for Kim Rok Soo, watching the man push a finger into you. You winced at the sudden penetration despite still being sensitive, letting out a whine, "Wait--"

Kim Rok Soo pushed in another finger. "Hm? What was that?"

You whimpered when Kim Rok Soo began to pump his fingers in and out, his whole palm and wrist getting wet by your cum. Kim Rok Soo leaned down to suck on your clit while his two fingers are still fucking your hole.

"Ah, haa, Rok Soo, please!" Cale spread your legs wider and let Kim Rok Soo push his fingers in and out of you hurriedly, splashes of your cum hitting the sheets underneath you and Rok Soo's abs. "Come, on, baby, come on..."

You let out a shriek when you finally came, writhing on the bed as you sprayed all over Kim Rok Soo's lap. Kim Rok Soo kept on going with his ministrations, his fingers fucking your hole until it was swollen and red. You closed your eyes shut, tears beginning to emerge at the corner of your eyes with how sensitive your pussy was. You tried to clench your thighs together but Cale's vice grip on you rendered your efforts useless, leaving you to spread wide open for Kim Rok Soo to please and torture you

"Oh, God, oh, God! Rok Soo, Cale, wait--!"

Both Cale and Kim Rok Soo grinned in satisfaction when you came again, your eyes wet with tears as you lay on the bed. Cale slowly lets go of his grip and moved to your side, peppering your face with light kisses, "You did great, my love."

"You got me wet all over, though," Kim Rok Soo added, noting how his abs were wet with your fluids.

"'M sorry," you mumbled as you stared up at the ceilings.

"It's okay, baby," Kim Rok Soo cooed, leaning down to massage and kiss the finger-shaped marks on your inner thighs. "I love seeing you do that."

You smiled as the two men poured out their affections to you, whispering sweet nothings to you, skin being praised and loved and cared for. Though, the moment didn't last long because you jumped when you felt something hit your stomach. You looked down, surprised to see Kim Rok Soo already lining up his girth to your pussy,

"Are you sure I'm going to be fine?" You asked anxiously. "It looks... intimidating."

Cale smiled, kissing your cheek. "You don't have to be afraid. You just need some prep..."

You watch as Kim Rok Soo grabbed the underwear you had worn earlier and balling it up with one hand. "Have you ever done stuffing before?"

You stared at him, shaking your head. "No, never."

Cale grinned, hypnotizing and inviting. "Would you like to try?"

His hands snaked back into your thighs, parting your legs even wider. He grabbed a pillow and slide it underneath your stomach. Kim Rok Soo smirked and his hand reached down to your cunt, the tip of his index finger gliding around your folds. "Do me a favor and spread your pussy for me."

Your face reddens in embarrassment when Cale's hands slides down to her pussy. Kim Rok Soo sat between your thighs, watching as Cale's two hands slide down to your crotch and spread open your cunt, showing off the folds to Kim Rok Soo who gazed at it with a satisfied smirk.

Rok Soo pushed his finger in and you sighed at the feeling of being filled again. He began to push in your wet underwear inside of your hole, watching as you wince at the friction of cotton with your vaginal walls.

"A bit more, baby," mumbled Rok Soo, pushing the cotton underwear further inside. "Do me a favor and stay still, okay?"

You nodded and breathed out an, "okay". You cringed in discomfort when Rok Soo pushed in the rest of the underwear inside of you until only a bit was left hanging out of your hole, drenched in your fluids. Cale began kissing your cheeks and temple to calm you down, whispering things along the lines of; "you're doing so good", "I'll give you a prize for being such a good girl", and so on.

Kim Rok Soo stared at your stuffed cunt and wrap his hand around his dick, slowly pumping his length as he watched your cum dripped down to the sheets, your pussy throbbing around the cotton underwear.

"Spread them wider for me," said Rok Soo as he began to fasten his pumps, staring at your cunt as Cale spreads your folds further with his fingers.

"Fuck, I've never seen such a pretty cunt before." Kim Rok Soo groaned, tapping the tip of his cock onto the hanging cloth outside of your hole. He nudged the tip to push inside a bit and groaned at the warm sensation of your walls. "God, you feel so good, baby."

With the tip of his cock snugly sitting within your hole, Kim Rok Soo began to pump his length furiously. He threw his head back as his hand worked, breaths ragged as he tries to chase his own bliss. "Fuck, fuck, fuck..."

Cale slowly lets go of your pussy and began to rub your clit. You flinched, hips thrusting forward at the stimulation, forcing Kim Rok Soo's cock to push the underwear deeper into you. "Ahh, please, please--"

You wrapped your hand around Cale's hard cock, pumping them quickly to help him chase his own peak. Cale bit his lips, closing his eyes but his fingers never stopping to rub your clit. He huffs in your ear, trying his best to have you cum first.

Kim Rok Soo rocked his hips a bit and pushed the underwear deeper into you. You let out a whimper when you involuntarily came from the sensation, your cum leaking out despite being stuffed. Cale's finger never stopped, forcing you to let out a small sob and your hand slowing down from a bit from the overstimulation.

Kim Rok Soo followed a few moments later, coming into your cunt before rubbing his dick against their mixed cum on your folds. You pumped Cale's cock when you feel another orgasm building, clenching your thighs together as you feel the tension in your abdomen growing every second and then releasing at the same time Cale came, cum spurting out and leaking down to your hands.

"Fuck," Cale whispered, stopped rubbing your clit and pulling his back. Kim Rok Soo grinned at the red-head, watching him pump his own dick as you reached your hand down and pushed two of your fingers into your pussy, trying to take the underwear out.

"Take it out," you whimpered, taking out your fingers that were covered with the three of your mixed cum.

"Be patient, darling," mumbled Kim Rok Soo, taking your fingers into his mouth and licking them clean.

"Let me do it," Cale huffed, having finished his own session. Kim Rok Soo sucks on your finger before letting them go, backing away a bit and letting Cale take charge.

You laid back while Cale slithered two of his fingers into your hole, making scisorring motions before he caught the edge of the underwear and slowly pull them out. You let out a long moan, rubbing your clit as Cale slowly drag the cloth out, you coming yet again by the time he fully got them out.

"Look at this, love," cooed Cale as he held up your soaked underwear. "You did such a great job."

You stared at the underwear and your face reddens in shame. You couldn't believe you just had your own underwear stuffed inside of you and had cum because of it. Both Cale and Kim Rok Soo chuckled, both knowing what you were thinking. Cale threw the underwear along with the pile of bathrobes.

"Now you're all prepped up," Kim Rok Soo hummed, grinning at what's to come. He moved aside, letting Cale to sit between your thighs. He lined his cock with your pussy and pushed in, some of Kim Rok Soo's cum from before leaking out and dripping down.

"Ahh, Cale..." You moaned quietly, glad to be feeling something familiar entering you. Cale spread your legs wide, letting Kim Rok Soo see how you and Cale are connected as the dark-haired man sat and pumped his cock, enjoying the view.

"W-why can't we just start?" You whined, letting out a strained cry when your abused clit began to get toyed again.

"We need something to help me get in here, don't we?" Cale asked, one of his hands sneaking to your ass and teasing your hole. "So I need you to cum all over my cock, love. It's the only lube we're going to get."

You gulped at the thought. It wasn't your first time receiving anal, but it's still something you weren't used to. You always remember how wet and messy the sex is whenever Cale wanted to do it and you're sure after this, you won't be walking for a few weeks.

"You can still do it, right, [Name]?" Cale whispers your name so sweetly that you could feel yourself getting wetter at his words. "You can still cum for us? For me?"

"Y-yes," you answered, needy. "Fuck me, Cale."

Cale moved his hips, pumping his cock in and out of you while rubbing your clit. He slipped one finger into your ass hole and you winced, knowing it's to prep you up. You glanced up at Kim Rok Soo, hand reaching out for his shaft and pumping the length of it. Kim Rok Soo pushed his cock to the corner of your mouth and you opened it, welcoming his length into your warm mouth.

"Oh, you look so pretty doing that, baby," Kim Rok Soo praises, admiring the way your lips wrapped around his cock and how his cock would come out of your mouth covered in your spit. He caresses your cheeks, moving his hips and have the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat.

"I'm slipping another one," Cale said, another digit slipping into your hole.

You could feel another orgasm slowly building up. To suck another man's cock while having your lover inside of you felt so strangely arousing - it was a new sensation and you were slightly excited at the thought of how it would feel with the two of them inside of you later, filling you up to the brim.

"So warm," Kim Rok Soo added, a content sigh slipping from his mouth every now and then. You swirled your tongue around his shaft, feeling the prominent veins of his cock, and slightly dragging your teeth along them.

"F-Fuck," Cale huffed, feeling your walls sucking him in and throbbing all around him. He continued to rub your clit, feeling your walls contracting and before they went lax, you squirted all over his cock, letting out sob while Cale continued to move his hips.

"Fuck, I'm adding one more," Cale mumbled, slipping another finger into you.

"Ahh, fuck, yeah," Kim Rok Soo moans out, seeing how with every push Cale gives to you, you would squirt out a little bit as a response. Cale pulled out, using his tip to fondle with your folds before pushing back in, prompting you to let out a muffled moan.

Cale hovers over your body before he began to pump his cock in and out of you with a fast pace, no doubt intending to reach his high. Kim Rok Soo grabbed you by the back of your head, bobbing your head back and forth, fucking your throat until saliva is dripping down your chil and to his balls. You placed a hand on his thighs as a way to make sure you won't get choked before they slipped and started to massage Kim Rok Soo's heavy balls.

"Shit," Cale cursed in a low voice. "[Name], love, I'm going to cum in you, okay?"

You nod, unable to speak as Kim Rok Soo was still using your mouth to chase his orgasm. Tears began to emerge and drip down from your eyes and before you could run out of breath, Kim Rok Soo explodes in the back of your throat.

You forced yourself to swallow every drop -- the sudden reflex stigning your throat. You flinched, clencing your thighs together when you feel Cale's cum painting your insides white. You looked up at Kim Rok Soo, seeing him trying to catch his breath and sweating, hand caressing your hair lovingly.

Cale pulled out with a groan, his cum leaking out of your pussy. He pulled out his fingers out of you, looking down at you laying on the bed with Kim Rok Soo's dick still in your mouth, his cum leaking to the corner of your mouth while your legs are spread wide, pussy leaking with cum.

"Rok Soo, get started," Cale called out for the man.

It took the man himself a few seconds to regain his composure. He pulled out his cock from your mouth before laying on the bed. He reached for you, moving your limp body to be on top of his. "[Name], sweetheart, you can get on your fours, right?"

"Fuck," you whispered, placing your hands on the either side of Kim Rok Soo's head and planted your knees at the either side of his hips, legs still trembling.

Your pussy began to drip down the cum onto Kim Rok Soo's cock just as he was slipping it into you. He let out a small groan, finally able to feel your walls around him. He grabbed both of your asscheeks and spread them apart for Cale who was staring at the way your pussy was still leaking your mixed cum down to Kim Rok Soo's balls. He gulped before lining his cock into your ass hole, one hand holding you by the waist.

"Ngh--Ahhh!" You let out a sob as Cale pushed inside of you, feeling both of your holes filled and it was enough to set you over the edge.

"Ssh, calm down, love," murmured Cale, hovering above you and planting kisses on your shoulders.

Kim Rok Soo opened his mouth, capturing your nipple and began sucking and tugging. He moved his hips up and down, pumping in and out of your pussy slowly, your cum along with Cale's dripping down more and more.

Cale began to move, letting out a satisfied groan the way your hole was squeezing his cock with every push and pull. He hears your delicious sobs, recognizing them to be of pleasure and not of pain.

"Nghh, hahh, Cale—" You moaned out for your lover. "Rok Soo, oh my gods..."

You could only stay in place, feeling your pussy being filled with Kim Rok Soo's cock while your ass is being fucked by Cale. The two of them were relentless, fucking you senseless as you sob and try your best to not collapse from overstimulation.

"Hahh, hahh, please, please—" You cried out, tears dripping down your cheeks. You have never felt such euphoria before, to be fucked and filled by two men.

You arched your back when Cale's hand sneaked to your clit, furiously rubbing you until you're squirting all over Kim Rok Soo's cock.

"Fuck, yes, yes, keep giving me that," Rok Soo hissed, feeling his balls tightening and his own high not too far.

"You're going to be our cumdump tonight, love," Cale told you and you feel yourself getting more and more aroused, the slick sounds of Kim Rok Soo's cock pounding into you becoming significantly louder along with Cale's pelvis slamming into your ass.

"Don't you love that, huh?" Kim Rok Soo added. "Having two men cum in you. So dirty. You love being a dirty whore?"

"Y-yes—hhhh!" you slurred, eyes rolled to the back of your head when Kim Rok Soo hits a spot that has you seeing stars.

"Make me your cumdump," you mewled. "Please cum in me, hahhh. I need you both to fill me—ahhh—up."

"I'll use you until you're filled to the brim," said Cale with a grin, moving his cock quickly in your ass. "I don't want to see a single drop leak out of you."

"Y-yessss!" You cried, feeling an orgasm building up.

"Fuck, you feel so good, [Name]," Kim Rok Soo murmured, quickening his pace and slamming his pelvis to yours.

"Our own little whore," Cale murmured, grunting as he came into your ass, staying in that position to pump everything he's got.

"Ohhh, shit," Kim Rok Soo whispered, bursting into you and filling you up, letting your pussy milk him dry.

"Ahhh, nghhh—!" You stayed in your position, body trembling with hot sensations in your womb and ass. Your eyes are still teary, the sting of of your sweat turning your eyes red and forcing you to keep your eyes closed.

You let Cale and Kim Rok Soo stayed in you before they pull out when they're done. Once they pull out, their cum immediately started oozing out of you, dripping either through your thighs first or straight to the sheets.

"Unghh," you mewled.

"Come here, sweetheart," Kim Rok Soo calls for you affectionately, letting you fall onto him before he moves you to the comfortable bed.

"You did amazing, love," Cale praises you, giving you a soft kiss on the forehead and lips. "Are you okay?"

You nodded. "Mhmm."

Kim Rok Soo poured a glass of water and handed it to you. "Up, up, sweetheart. Can't have you dehydrating after that."

You took the glass from Kim Rok Soo and drunk the water, watching as the two men stare at you with loving gazes.

"We..." You began after finished drinking. "We should do this often."

"I agree," added Kim Rok Soo, kissing your hand.

"I had a good time, so sure," Cale said with a grin before kissing your cheek. You giggled, slightly giddy despite the tiredness that's slowly crawling up and showing its ugly head.

"I love you both."

"We love you too, sweetheart."

was questioning whether i should posted this or not because by god was this awful but the people are hungry so let them eat some crumbs idk

this is for yall who said yall are still hungry @raritygold @milkierei @uryu-the-crazy-world @freiarchon

#RIP DAT PUSSY AYEEE #truly have no idea what i was doing here #hope yall enjoyed it tho lol #cale henituse x reader #cale henituse smut #trash of the count's family #totcf #cale henituse #tcf cale #lout of the count’s family #lout of count's family #x reader #kim rok soo x reader

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