#the untamed x male reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

quinzzelx · 21 days

Text

No need to decide

Azriel/Cassian/Rhysand x Fem! Reader

Summary: This is porn without plot. You drink with your friends and it turns into something heated.

Word Count: 6700

Warnings: Smut, 18+! Fouresome, DP, Oral fem and male receiving, Deep Throating, Slight Shadow Play, Overstimulation

A/N: Well- this was fun to write. I have a lot of other stuff coming up the next days. Several WIP's and Requests :) Hope you enjoy this filthy piece of my imagination. I haven't proofread it yet and this might be a little straight forward lol...

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Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand fixate their eyes on you with an intense fire, their stances exuding a raw, untamed power. "We've been looking for you! We were worried sick when you didn’t return," Azriel strides towards you and gently grips your face. "Don’t ever disappear like that again. I thought I lost you."

"I'm sorry, Az..." you sigh, meeting their concerned gazes. All of you are still bloodied from battle, dried blood clinging to your skin. "How about we let the evening be like the good old days? Just drinking and relaxing?" You pat Azriel on the shoulder and give Cassian and Rhys a soft smile. They all nod in agreement, the tension in their shoulders easing, although concern still lingers in their eyes.

"That sounds like a great idea. Let's go to the council room, we have some good wine stored there. I'll just quickly head up to my room and clean up. You all should too, you reek," you chuckle as you walk past them, heading up the stairs to your room. After a quick bath and changing into a silk pajama set, you return downstairs to find the three already sitting in the sitting area.

"I can see you already started without me," you tease, and their gazes immediately shoot up to you. Cassian whistles lowly, admiring your appearance. "Damn, you look good enough to eat."

"We didn't start without you, just got here a bit early," Rhysand explains with a grin, leaning back into the chaise. "Only you, Y/N. Only you," he chuckles.

You join them, grabbing a bottle of wine and taking a swig straight from it, earning surprised yet amused looks from your friends. "Like good old times, right?" you beam, and Cassian agrees, grabbing a bottle for himself. "See! I know why I like Cassy best!" you tease, earning a chuckle from Azriel.

As you all engage in casual chatter and laughter, you start to feel the buzz of the alcohol. "I'm bored," you announce, leaning back and watching them lounging around the sitting room. "Can we play something?"

Azriel raises an eyebrow at you, a smirk playing on his lips. Cassian grins and sits up, finishing his bottle before responding, "Bored, Y/N? Let's play something like... Truth or Drink, perhaps?"

"Remember when we played Truth or Drink back in Rhys' cabin in Windhaven?" you reminisce with a smile, earning a snort from Rhysand. "Yes, we got bat shit drunk, and my mother was so angry at us for weeks because Cassian broke not only one but two doors," he chuckles, recalling the memory fondly.

Azriel's laughter joins the mix, his deep voice resonating in the room as he watches the playful exchange between you and Cassian. "Those were the days," he comments, his gaze nostalgic. He finishes his drink and sets the bottle aside, leaning forward with interest. "We could definitely play that again. Who wants to start?"

Sitting up straighter, full of energy, you announce, "I think I'd like that! Who wants to start?" Cassian, ever the instigator, leans forward, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Placing his empty bottle on the table, he pokes you in the side, then leans back, chuckling. "I'll start. Truth or dare, Y/N?"

Though momentarily confused, you quickly join in the fun. "I thought we were playing Truth or Drink? But I'm fine with this too!" Your grin broadens, accepting the challenge. "Dare!" The three friends share a look, each a bit surprised at your bold choice. Cassian pauses, evidently not expecting you to choose Dare. "Remember, if we don't want to do something, we have to drink!" you remind them, shooting Cassian a daring look. "Come on, Lord of Bloodshed, give me your worst." Cassian's surprise gives way to a hearty laugh. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and looks at you with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Alright, here's your dare: go outside and fly around the block. But here's the catch—you have to do it in your underwear."

Your eyes widen in mock horror. "I'm way too drunk to fly!" you exclaim, laughing and playfully swatting at his arm. "Give me something I can actually do!"

Cassian's laughter fills the room, his earlier mischief replaced with amusement at your reaction. "Alright, alright, let's keep it grounded. How about this then: you have to serenade us with the most embarrassing song you know, right here, right now."

Grinning broadly, you nod, accepting the modified challenge. "You asked for it," you warn, rising to your feet with a playful sway. As you clear your throat dramatically, Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian lean back, each one wearing an expression of delighted anticipation. You launch into an off-key, dramatically overacted rendition of a notoriously silly love ballad, complete with exaggerated gestures and melodramatic expressions.

Laughter and cheers fill the room, the earlier tension dissolving into an evening of joyful camaraderie. Azriel watches you with a soft smile, his eyes reflecting pride and affection, thoroughly enjoying the light-hearted side of you.

Now it was your turn to direct the game. You turned towards Rhys, who was already eyeing you with an amused, anticipatory smile. "Rhys, truth or dare?"

Rhys leaned back, his expression turning mischievously sly. "Dare."

You paused, a spark of mischief lighting up your own eyes. "Use your powers to show me one of your dirtiest dreams," you challenged, eager to see if he'd take on the dare or opt for a drink instead.

Rhys's eyes narrowed slightly, a grin unfurling across his face. He extended his hand to grasp yours, a ripple of power coursing through the contact. Suddenly, your vision blurred as he shared a vivid memory—his dream flooding your senses.

You gasped, your cheeks flushing as the explicit scene unfolded in your mind's eye. It was shockingly graphic, and you couldn't help but blush even deeper when Rhys's voice echoed in your thoughts.

Feeling his amusement, Rhys released your hand and leaned back, watching your flustered reaction with a chuckle. "Well, did I pass your dare or not?"

Your eyes were wide, your mouth agape. "I... I didn't expect that. I mean, it was definitely graphic," you managed to stammer out, still reeling from the intensity of the dream. You tried to lighten the mood with a tease. "If you're packing that much in reality and not just in your dreams, your mate is indeed fortunate."

Laughter erupted around the room, the tension breaking as Cassian and Azriel joined in the mirth. Rhys just smirked, pleased with your reaction.

"You're up, Rhys. Why don't you ask our dear Shadowsinger here?" you said, nudging the game along. Rhys turned to Azriel with a playful glint in his eye. "So, Az, truth or dare?"

Azriel's expression was unreadable for a moment before a smirk played at the corners of his mouth. "Dare," he responded confidently. Rhys's smile broadened. "I dare you to kiss the most attractive person in the room."

Azriel's eyebrows raised in mock surprise, then he turned to look directly at you. His smirk deepened. "Challenge accepted." He stood gracefully, crossed the room in a few strides, and sat down next to you. Leaning in close, he pressed a brief, soft kiss on your lips before pulling away with a light chuckle. You blushed furiously, caught off guard by the sudden contact. "Your lips are very soft, Az," you murmured quietly, meant only for him to hear. Azriel's grin widened as he leaned in, his voice a whisper against your ear. "I could say the same for yours."

The room filled with chuckles and light-hearted banter. Cassian whistled, and Rhys laughed, clearly enjoying the turn of events. Now, it was Azriel's turn to steer the game. He looked at you with a playful challenge in his eyes. "Y/N, truth or dare?"

Considering the electric atmosphere and his intoxicating closeness, you replied with a hesitant, "Dare?" Azriel's eyes sparkled with mischief. "I dare you to wrap your arms around me and pull me in for a kiss," he said, his voice low and enticing.

"What, again?" you asked, teasing him lightly. "Don't tell me you kissed me once and already can't get enough."

His chuckle was warm, filling the space between you. "Maybe I just enjoyed it?" Azriel's hands reached out, pulling you closer as he tilted his head, capturing your lips in a slow, lingering kiss.

The kiss deepened, and you found yourself melting into him, the lines of friendship blurring into something more tender and profound. Cassian's playful voice broke through, adding a flirtatious edge to the night. "Truth or dare, Y/N?" he whispered, sitting close behind you now. You didn’t even hear him cross the room. As his hot breath Fans across the back of your neck, the rules of the game completely forgotton.

Caught between Azriel's lips and Cassian's whispered challenge, you managed a breathless, "Dare?"

Cassian's warm breath tickled your ear, his hands gently tracing circles on your waist. With a sly grin and a gaze full of mischief, he leaned closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "I dare you to stand and strip off your shirt. Let's see what you're hiding under there."

Blushing deeply at his boldness and the intensity of the situation, you hesitated. "I...I'm not wearing anything underneath... this is just my sleepwear," you murmured, a mix of embarrassment and challenge in your voice. As you fumbled with the silk shirt, your wings awkwardly in the way and your movements clumsy from the alcohol, Azriel stepped in. Silently, he helped lift the fabric over your head with gentle ease.

As your shirt fell away, exposing your bare skin to the cool air, Cassian's gaze intensified, drinking in every detail of your newly revealed form. Rhys, no longer content to observe from a distance, rose from his seat and approached with a purposeful stride.

"Allow me," Rhys murmured, his voice a low caress as he reached out to steady you. His fingers brushed your chin, lifting your face as he leaned in to capture your lips in a tender yet insistent kiss. Meanwhile, Cassian wasted no time in exploring the skin now bared before him. His fingers grazed your stomach, slowly making their way up to tease your nipples, eliciting a soft moan from your lips.

Caught in the sudden escalation, you gasped, your body responding despite your confusion. "What's happening?" you breathed out, your mind reeling as the game of truth or dare seemed to blur into something more intimate. "Weren't we playing a game?"

"Yes, but it seems we've all become quite..." Rhys paused, breaking the kiss, his voice thick with desire as he stepped back, allowing Azriel his turn. "distracted..." A devilish glint sparked in Rhys's eyes as he turned to Azriel, challenging him. "Truth or dare?" he asked, his tone laden with implications.

Azriel, his gaze fixed intensely on your exposed body, took a deep breath, his desire palpable. Without hesitation, he reached out, his hand cupping your breast, thumb teasing your nipple with deliberate strokes. "Dare," he breathed out, his voice rough.

Rhys smiled wickedly, stepping back to give Azriel space, his eyes alight with anticipation. The scent of arousal hung heavy in the air surrounding you. Rhys' eyes darkened as he observed the unfolding scene with predatory interest. "Azriel," he challenged with a smirk, "I dare you to make her climax."

At the daring proposition, your eyes—wide with desire—met Azriel's. His gaze, alight with raw lust, held yours as he leaned close, his breath searing against your ear. His fingers resumed their tantalizing dance across your nipples, pinching gently, eliciting a sharp gasp from your lips. "Ah, Azriel," you moaned, your gaze hooded, body arching towards his touch.

Cassian's chuckle vibrated against your neck as he pressed himself closer, his lips grazing your skin. "You're breathtaking," he whispered, his hands exploring downward to grip your hips, his hardness pressing insistently against you.

"What's happening?" you gasped, caught between them, your mind a whirl of sensation and confusion.

"You're not dreaming," Rhys assured with a soft laugh, his hands gliding down between your breasts. His lips captured yours in a deep, exploring kiss, his tongue mirroring the actions of his hands.

Lost in the kiss, you barely registered Azriel's hand slipping down the front of your pants. But his withdrawal, fingers glistening with your arousal, snapped you back to the present. "You're so wet for us, love." He pressed his wet fingers to your lips, and you sucked them clean, your eyes locked on his, wide and filled with lust.

The three shared a look of pure desire. Cassian's grip tightened on your hips as he pulled you flush against him, grinding his hard cock against your ass. "I want you so badly," he growled, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss.

As the kiss deepened, Azriel's hands ventured lower, sliding your silk shorts down, leaving you bare before the trio of fully clothed Illyrians. His fingers resumed their work, now directly on your heated flesh, teasing your clit before plunging deep inside you. The sensation overwhelmed you, and your knees buckled. Cassian supported you, his strong arms wrapping around you as Azriel drove his fingers deeper, faster.

Rhys stepped closer, his hands caressing your breasts. "You're magnificent like this," he murmured. Overwhelmed by their touches, you managed to gasp out, "Need you," as waves of pleasure built within you, your gaze meeting Rhys violet eyes as you come on Azriels fingers with a scream. "Fuck, Azriel!" The Shadowsinger keeps his fingers working inside of you, bringing you close to another orgasm immediately. Shit, they were your undoing.

Cassian scooped you up effortlessly, carrying you to the chaise lounge. He laid you down, his body hovering over yours as he began a tantalizing trail of kisses down your body. "So you want to fuck all of us, hm?" he mused, his breath hot against your exposed skin.

"Yes," you breathed out, desperation lacing your voice. "I want all of you." As Cassian's mouth found your core, his tongue expertly coaxing pleasure from every stroke.

Azriel's hot breath tickled your ear as Rhysand tended to your nipples, groping and kneading your breasts. "You're dripping wet, love," Azriel murmured, his words sending shivers down your spine. With each passing moment, the anticipation grew, the air thick with raw desire.

Belts click and shuffle, as they freed their massive cocks, your eyes widened with a mixture of anticipation and arousal. "Fuck, you're huge," you gasped, your hands instinctively reaching out to wrap around Azriel's cock while your other hand flew around Rhys's.

Azriel groaned at your touch, his hips bucking into your hand as Rhys's attentions intensified on your nipple. "You're going to let us fuck your pretty cunt, aren't you?" Azriel's question hung in the air, met with your eager nod and a firm grip on their cocks. "Yes," you panted, your need echoing in the room. Cassian's growl reverberated against your core as he continued to feast on you. "Good girl," he praised, the vibrations sending you spiraling closer to the edge. "We're going to Fuck you and fill you up until you're screaming our names."

Your body arched, senses overwhelmed as another orgasm approached. "Fucking hell, Cass," you moaned, your hands working Azriel and Rhys with fervor. Azriel's groan mingled with your moans as he guided your mouth towards him. "I want to fuck your mouth," he confessed, his cock eagerly welcomed by your hungry lips. With hunger akin to a starving woman, you eagerly took him in, moaning at the taste of him. Azriel's praise spurred you on as you hollowed your cheeks, bobbing your head with abandon, focusing on driving him to the brink of ecstasy.

As Cassian continued his assault on your core, Rhys's attentions on your breasts intensified. "Fuck, I can't wait to be inside you," Cassian growled, his tongue working magic on your clit. Your moans reverberated around Azriel's cock, driving him closer to the edge.

With each thrust into your mouth, Azriel's groans grew louder, his hips moving faster. "You're going to make me cum if you keep doing that," he warned, the sensation of your mouth driving him wild.

Gasping for breath, you released Azriel's cock as Cassian withdrew from your core. “You take me so well.” Azriel's praise sent a shiver down your spine, his whispered words igniting a fire within you. The primal desire in their eyes mirrored your own, and in that moment, there was no turning back. Many years of friendship, growing up together, winning battles and wars. And here you were, drunk on wine and lust as your three best friends ravished your body.

Cassian's impatience is palpable as he declares his inability to wait any longer. With a firm grip on your thighs, he hoists you up, swiftly discarding his pants to reveal his thick length. Settling back onto the couch, he leans against the backrest, anticipation evident in his eyes.

Your breath catches as he pulls you down onto him, your back molding against his chest as his cock glides through your soaked folds. A sharp yelp escapes your lips at the suddenness of the sensation, Cassian's grip on your hips only adding to the intensity. He throws his head back in ecstasy, a low groan rumbling from his throat as he lazily rubs your clit, causing you to squirm beneath him. Your wings flex against Cassian's chest, adding to the intoxicating intimacy of the moment. Rhys's appreciative gaze sweeps over you, his eyes dilated with desire as he takes in every detail. He leans forward with a feline smirk, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss.

"What do you want, Darling?" Rhys's voice is low and daring, his violet eyes gleaming with mischief as they meet yours. He grunts at the sight of your flushed cheeks and swollen lips, evidence of how you had them wrapped around Azriel’s Cock just moments before. His admiration is evident as he takes in the streaks of tears and drool on your face.

"Gods, you look good like this," he murmurs before claiming your lips again, his tongue exploring your mouth with fervor, licking into it, teeth clashing against each other in the heated kiss. As Cassian grinds against you, his cock teasing your slick cunt with every movement, you're unable to hold back your moans, each drag through your folds eliciting a desperate response that escapes into Rhys's mouth.

Suddenly, you feel something cold slither up your legs, sending shivers down your spine as it trails along your back like gentle caresses. Shadowy tendrils dance around your form, exploring every inch of your body with an eerie yet tantalizing touch.

Amidst the heated atmosphere, Azriel's voice cuts through with a dark allure. "My shadows are eager to explore your body too," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear as he leans in closer. "They long to feel every curve, every inch of your skin, and indulge in the pleasure of the sounds you make." His words send a thrill of anticipation coursing through you. As Cassian's warm breath caresses your neck from behind, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, you feel a shiver run down your spine. "Tell me, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice dripping with desire, "have you ever been fucked in that pretty little ass of yours?"

A furious blush spreads across your cheeks at his bold question, rendering you momentarily speechless. Unable to form coherent sentences, you simply nod in response, feeling the weight of their intense gazes fixed upon you, each one watching your every move.

"We need words, angel," Azriel adds, his touch sending electric pulses through your body as he drags a scarred thumb over your bottom lip. Almost instinctively, your tongue slips out, drawing his thumb into your mouth and sucking on it eagerly, eliciting a low groan from Azriel's lips.

"Yes, I've been fucked in my ass before," you admit, your voice hoarse from the earlier throat-fucking. "Good," Cassian hums in response, his cock dragging through your wetness, coating himself in your slick as he positions himself at your asshole. With gentle pressure, he begins to push into you, urging you to relax. Your eyes roll back, your head falling back onto Cassian's shoulder as you feel the stretch.

"Oh, fuck," you groan, the mixture of pleasure and pain coursing through you as Cassian gradually sinks deeper inside you, until he's fully sheathed. "Do you like having my cock up your ass?" Cassian grunts, starting to thrust into you, his movements deliberate and controlled.

"Yes!" you mewl, your pussy twitching and clenching around nothing, craving the sensation of being filled. "Need one of you in my cunt," you whimper, your pussy dripping with anticipation, yearning for attention. Azriel and Rhys exchange a glance, wordlessly communicating their next move. Azriel then positions himself in front of you, propping one leg onto the edge of the chaise lounge, his knees bent and angled as he aligns himself with your cunt.

Azriel thrusts into your drenched hole, his groans mingling with your gasps as you feel yourself being filled so thoroughly. Sandwiched between the two Illyrians, you're overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through your body. "Fuck, you feel so good," Azriel moans, his movements becoming more urgent as he seeks out every inch of your warmth.

Cassian grunts into your ear, his voice husky with desire as he whispers sweet praises, his words sending shivers down your spine. "You're so tight, angel," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "Fuck, you take me so well."

His words fuel your arousal, igniting a fire within you as he continues to thrust into you with increasing fervor. "You're amazing," he groans, his grip on your hips tightening. "So fucking beautiful, taking both of us like a champ."

Rhys stands beside the chaise, his gaze fixated on the erotic tableau before him. With a hunger in his eyes, he positions himself next to you, his throbbing cock eagerly seeking entrance. "Open up for me, darling," he urges, his voice thick with desire as he guides his member between your parted lips. Your mouth, still slick from Azriel's earlier attentions, welcomes him eagerly, enveloping him in warmth. Rhys moans softly, his fingers tangling in your hair as he begins to thrust gently, setting a rhythm that matches the movements of Cassian and Azriel behind you.

His praise mingles with your moans. As Rhys plunges deeper into your mouth, his praises become a melodic chant, whispered between gasps of pleasure. "You're so beautiful like this," he murmurs, his voice a seductive melody against the backdrop of your moans. "Taking us all so eagerly, so willingly." His words send shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you as you eagerly suck him deeper, your tongue swirling around his length in a dance of desire.

"Such a good girl," Rhys continues, his breath hitching with each thrust. "You were made for this, made to be worshipped by us, to be pleasured in every way imaginable." His words fuel you, driving you to take him deeper, to please him as he plunges into your mouth. As Azriel and Cassian pick up their pace, the intensity of their thrusts sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Each powerful thrust fills you up completely, hitting the deepest spots inside you, driving you closer to the edge of bliss.

Your body is flushed with arousal, a rosy hue spreading across your skin as your heart races with anticipation. With every thrust, your breasts bounce in rhythm. Beads of sweat form on your skin, glistening under the dim light of the room as the heat of passion consumes you. You mewl and grunt, lost in a haze of ecstasy as every coherent thought is driven from your mind. You're fucked so well, so thoroughly, that all you can do is surrender to the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you. As Rhys thrusts into your mouth, you eagerly meet his movements, sucking and licking with abandon. His cock fills your mouth, stretching you as you take him deeper, eager to please him as much as the others.

"You're such a good little whore for us, aren't you?" Cassian growls into your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he pounds into you with primal urgency. Azriel's voice is low and husky as he murmurs, "That's it, take all of us. You were made for this, made to be filled up by us." Rhys's words are a seductive whisper against your skin as he thrusts into your mouth, "You're our perfect little plaything, made to satisfy our every desire."

Their words send shivers of pleasure down your spine, fueling the fire of ecstasy that burns within you. You moan around Rhys's cock, your body writhing with pleasure as you surrender to the overwhelming sensation of being taken by them all at once. As they continue to sweet-talk you, their words of adoration and desire fueling the intensity of your pleasure, they also begin to engage in conversation amongst themselves.

Cassian's voice is filled with lust and admiration as he murmurs, "Gods, she's so tight around me. Feels like heaven." Azriel grunts in agreement, his movements becoming more urgent as he drives deeper into you. "She's insatiable. I can feel her clenching around me." Rhys's voice is a low growl as he adds, "She loves it, doesn't she? Loves being taken by all of us at once." The three of them share a knowing glance, a silent communication passing between them as they continue their assault on your body.

As you come around Azriel's cock, your body convulses with pleasure, and you release Rhys's cock with a wet pop, moaning loudly in ecstasy. "Fuck! Gods, yes. More," you whimper, your voice dripping with desire as tears gather at the brim of your eyes once again.

Sensing your need for a change of scenery, Cassian and Azriel pull out of you, their movements synchronized as they lift you up, their strong arms cradling you bridal-style. "Let's go somewhere more comfortable," Cassian suggests, carrying you with ease as you pant heavily, your body still trembling from the intensity of your orgasms.

Rhys leads the way into his bedroom, the air heavy with anticipation as Cassian gently sets you down on the bed. "On all fours now," he instructs, his voice commanding yet tender as he helps you assume the desired position. "Now tell me, pretty girl," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "Whose cock do you want?" You pause for a moment, your mind fogged with desire and need, before you answer with absolute certainty, "All of yours."

Their chuckles ripple through the room, a symphony of desire and amusement. "Yes, but where?" Cassian repeats, his voice laced with anticipation. You bite your lip, considering the question amidst the haze of arousal. "Everywhere," you finally breathe out. Cassian and Azriel exchange a knowing glance, their desire evident in the hunger of their gazes as they settle onto the bed in front of you. "I want all of you to cum inside of me," you declare, your voice dripping with need as you gaze at them with pleading eyes.

A primal hunger ignites within them at your words, their cocks throbbing with anticipation as they watch you with ravenous desire. Without a word, Cassian moves closer, his hands trailing down your spine as he leans in to press his lips against the nape of your neck. "You heard her, boys," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. "Let's give her what she wants."

Rhys's gaze darkens with desire as he watches the scene unfold before him. With a predatory gleam in his eyes, he moves closer, his fingers trailing over your slick folds before he positions himself at your entrance, his cock twitching with anticipation. "Please," you whimper, your voice pleading as you arch your back, presenting yourself to them completely. "I need you." As Rhys positions himself behind you, his cock pressing eagerly against your dripping folds, you let out a whimper of anticipation, your body trembling with desire. His hands grip your ass with a bruising force, pulling you closer to him as he aligns himself with your slick entrance.

With a low growl, Rhys thrusts into you, his cock filling you to the hilt as you moan in ecstasy. The sensation of being stretched and filled by him sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, your back arching and your hips instinctively grinding back against him. Meanwhile, Azriel and Cassian settle on the bed in front of you, their cocks standing proud and ready for your attention. With a hunger that matches your own, you eagerly take them into your mouth, sucking and licking with fervor as you alternate between the two. Azriel groans appreciatively as you take him deep into your mouth, your tongue swirling around him as you eagerly work to drive him to the brink of ecstasy. Cassian's grip tightens on the sheets as you lavish attention on him, your mouth and tongue working wonders. When your mouth cannot please one of them, you work them with your hands.

Back with Rhys, his thrusts become more urgent, his hips slamming into yours with a relentless rhythm that leaves you breathless. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, building the heat within you to an unbearable intensity. You're surrounded by the heady scent of sex and sweat, the sounds of your moans and the slick sounds of flesh against flesh filling the air as you're taken by all three of them at once. As Rhys's thrusts become even harsher and more powerful, you feel yourself being pushed to the brink of ecstasy. Each withdrawal is agonizingly slow, teasing you with the promise of his impending return, before he slams back into you with a force that sends shivers down your spine.

His moans fill the room, mingling with the sounds of your own pleasure as he drives you towards the edge. With each thrust, he curses under his breath, his voice thick with desire and need.

"Gods, your pretty little cunt is milking my cock so well," he growls, his brows pinched in pleasure as he snaps his hips into yours with even more force. "I'm gonna fill you up now, okay, darling?" he murmurs, his voice laced with a mixture of desire and possessiveness.

You can only manage a breathless whimper of agreement as Rhys's powerful thrusts leave you gasping for air. His cock pistons into you with a relentless intensity, each movement driving you closer to the brink of ecstasy.

With a guttural groan, Rhys pulls out almost completely before slamming back into you, his movements becoming even more forceful and erratic. Your body responds instinctively, arching into his thrusts as you surrender to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. With one final, powerful thrust, Rhys buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he spills his seed into your waiting depths. The sensation of being filled by him pushes you over the edge, and you cry out in ecstasy as waves of pleasure wash over you, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm.

As the intensity of your climax fades, you collapse against the bed, panting heavily as you bask in the afterglow of your shared pleasure. Rhys remains buried deep inside you, his breathing ragged as he presses gentle kisses to the nape of your neck, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

"Would you mind if I go first?" Cassian's voice is husky with desire as he glances at Azriel, who returns his gaze with a heated intensity. "Go ahead," Azriel grunts in response, his own desire palpable in the air.

With a silent understanding passing between them, Cassian switches places with Rhys, who withdraws from you only to be replaced by Cassian's throbbing length. Unlike Rhys's powerful thrusts, Cassian's movements are more deliberate, more controlled. He grinds into you, his cock buried deep within your slick folds, maintaining a constant pressure that sends waves of pleasure coursing through you. You can feel the tension in Cassian's body, the urgency in his breath as he nears his own climax. But despite his impending release, he keeps his movements steady, his focus solely on pleasuring you.

And oh, how you revel in it. You love being their plaything, their vessel for pleasure. Your gaze meets Azriel's, and in his hazel eyes, you see a reflection of your own desire, a mirror image of the passion burning within you. As Azriel strokes your hair with a tenderness that belies the raw desire between you, you feel a surge of emotion welling up inside you. With each grinding motion, Cassian's cock delves deeper into your quivering core, eliciting a symphony of moans and gasps from your lips. His breath becomes ragged, matching the rhythm of his thrusts, as he nears the edge of release. "Oh, fuck," Cassian groans, his voice thick with desire. "You feel so good, baby. So fucking tight." As his pace quickens, the tension in Cassian's body becomes almost unbearable. And then, with a guttural cry of ecstasy, Cassian finally succumbs to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through him. Hot strings of seed spill from his throbbing cock, filling you to the brim as he empties himself inside you. "Fuck, yes," Cassian pants, his voice raw with passion. "Take it all, darling. Take every last drop."

As your body succumbs to exhaustion, collapsing onto the mattress, you feel utterly spent, your legs trembling with the remnants of pleasure. Rhys and Cassian share a knowing smirk and a low, rumbling laugh, their eyes alight with satisfaction.

"How about you run her a bath and get some food while I take care of her," Azriel suggests, his voice a soothing balm amidst the haze of pleasure that envelops you. With gentle hands, he helps you turn onto your back again, his touch as soft as a whisper against your skin.

You sink into the mattress, utterly relaxed under Azriel's tender ministrations, your body humming with satisfaction. The warmth of his touch soothes the ache in your muscles, easing away the tension that had coiled within you.

"Thank you," you murmur softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Despite the exhaustion that weighs heavily on your limbs, a sense of contentment washes over you, wrapping you in its comforting embrace. Azriel smiles down at you, his gaze filled with warmth and affection. "Anything for you" he whispers, his words a promise of devotion that sends a flutter of butterflies dancing in your stomach. As Azriel leans over you, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, his voice rasps with desire. "I still need to fuck your pretty little cunt one more time, angel," he murmurs, his tone husky with anticipation. With heavy-lidded eyes, you nod, your gaze glazed with the remnants of pleasure.

He moves in front of you, his eyes tracing the halo of your hair spread out like a soft cloud on the mattress, your wings unfurled, a testament to your ethereal beauty. "So fucking beautiful," he whispers, his voice laced with reverence as he gently folds your legs up to your chest, hovering over you with a predatory grace.

"I won't be gentle," he warns, his voice dripping with promise as he plunges into your sensitive pussy. A scream tears from your throat as Azriel's cock, long and thick, fills you completely. There's a certain correlation between the expanse of his wingspan and the size of other parts of his anatomy, and you feel every inch of him stretching you to your limits.

His pace is relentless, unforgiving, each thrust hitting that perfect spot inside of you that sends sparks of pleasure shooting through your veins. He moves fast, brutal in his assault on your senses, leaving you no choice but to surrender to the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you. You moan loudly, wildly, unable to control the spasms wracking your body as Azriel's relentless rhythm drives you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. He grins down at you, a feral gleam in his eyes as he growls under his breath, "Look at you, completely drunk on my cock." His words send a shiver of excitement down your spine, mingling with the waves of pleasure crashing over you. "You don't know how long I've wanted to do this," he confesses.

As Azriel's gaze wanders to your wings, his own unfurling behind him with a mesmerizing display of power, he traces a finger over the delicate membrane of your right wing. The sensation sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, and you immediately clench around him, your walls squeezing around his cock in a deliciously tight grip.

Azriel's satisfaction is evident in the grin that tugs at his lips, a mixture of pride and arousal evident in the way he huffs with each powerful thrust into you. "One more time. Give me one more," he coaxes, his voice a seductive whisper that belies the feral look in his eyes.

As he continues to pound into you with an intensity that leaves you breathless, he keeps softly brushing his fingertips over your wings, exploring the soft tissue and tracing the contours of the delicate bones. Each touch sends shivers down your spine, and you squirm beneath him, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through your body.

Gasping for air, your toes curl as the overwhelming pleasure threatens to consume you entirely. In a tantalizing twist, a shadowy cool tendril finds its way to your clit, adding another layer of sensation to the already intense experience. As Azriel ruts harder, his movements becoming more unsteady and desperate, you feel the tension building within you, every snap of his hips sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. With each thrust, he drives deeper into you, hitting that perfect spot that makes you see stars.

And then, it happens. You come together, your bodies trembling in sync as wave after wave of ecstasy washes over you. Azriel's hips stutter, his movements growing erratic as he shoots his ropes of hot cum deep inside of you, filling you up with his essence.

When he pulls out, a mixture of their combined cum drips from your well-used pussy. Azriel's eyes darken with desire as he takes in the sight of your fucked-out cunt, leaking with their combined release.

"Fuck, so pretty with our cum all over your pussy, mhm?" he breathes heavily, his fingers gathering some of the spilled cum before pushing it back inside of your throbbing cunt. You moan at the overstimulating sensation, your body still trembling with aftershocks of pleasure.

"We wouldn't want to waste anything now, would we?" he murmurs, leaning over to brush a soft kiss to your forehead before capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. Your body continues to shake as you try to come down from the intoxicating high.

Rhys returns with a tablet full of food, setting it down beside the bed as Azriel picks you up, cradling you in his arms, and carries you to the bathroom where Cassian had prepared a warm bath. The steam rises, enveloping you in its comforting embrace as Azriel gently sets you down into the tub. "You'll bathe," he murmurs softly, his voice laced with tenderness, "then we'll eat, rest for some time, and then..." He pauses, his gaze intense as he meets yours. "Then we'll fuck you until the sun comes up."

His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of anticipation and desire coursing through your veins. You nod eagerly, your body still humming with the lingering echoes of pleasure. The promise of more to come ignites a fire in the pit of your stomach as you soak in the warm water, letting it soothe your weary muscles.

As you lean back, closing your eyes and reveling in the sensation of warmth surrounding you, you can't help but smile at the thought of what lies ahead.

☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆

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ladylokilaufeyson5 · 3 months

Text

Where The Shadows Dance

Bodyguard!Azriel x AutumnDaughter!Reader

SUMMARY: When Beron invites the Night Court to his Autumn home in an attempt to strengthen bonds between the two courts, Azriel and his companions are suspicious of potential ulterior motives. They are, ultimately, correct to think this, as Beron does have a reason for his invitation.

Y/n Vanserra, the Autumn Court's untamed princess, needs a bodyguard, and who better than one of the Night Court warriors who helped command the armies against Hybern?

Y/n's untamed spirit clashes with Azriel's reserved nature, leading to unwilling adventures and forbidden explorations of the Autumn Court's hidden corners. And Azriel slowly stops finding himself able to say no - not when she flirts with him to get her way, or teases him for being a 'broody old male.'

And though he knows he shouldn't, he finds himself falling for her. It will jeopardise everything, and yet he can't help it...

But it's okay, because she's falling for him too.

GENERAL WARNINGS: swearing, violence, descriptions of injuries and blood, smut (18+ mdni), um... yeah

Chapter i - The Proposition

Chapter ii - The Bodyguard

Chapter iii - The Princess

Chapter iv - The Tavern

Chapter v - coming soon

Chapter vi - coming soon

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stirthewaters · 9 months

Text

Too Sharp to Touch pt. 1

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: slight language

Summary: After getting into another fight, Wednesday has no choice but to come and get you.

Pairing: Wednesday x Reader

It was the second time this month, and you had somehow gotten into another fight?

At this point, Wednesday was beginning to think that you wanted another detention.

She had been on her way to drop off her botany assignment, finished early as usual, stopped by a familiar tap on the shoulder from Thing.

Her eyes flicked to her shoulder, voice hinting at irritation

“What is it now?”

Thing signed a couple times, and Wednesday’s eyes narrowed, a frustrated sigh escaping her.

“Y/N is fighting…again?”

Thing responded with a couple more taps, and she closed her eyes, summoning what patience she’d be able to have for you right now.

“She isn’t my problem, Thing. I have more important matters than deterring yet another trivial dogfight.”

Thing tapped again, growing impatient, almost tumbling from her shoulder when she halted abruptly.

“I do not care for Y/N, Thing, I merely keep Enid from going hysterical over her well-deserved wounds due to her lack of fighting skills.” -she fixed the hand with a cold glare - “Suggest something like that again and I will be locking you out of the dorm again.”

The hand stubbornly continued to sign, causing the raven’s eyes to narrow.

“I agree that Y/N lacks self-control but that does not mean I shall be taking responsibility for it.”

Wednesday began walking again, trying to ignore the ever-frequent tapping on her shoulder, that of which was becoming harder and more insistent.

You couldn’t be that hurt yet. You were tough (though she’d never admit it to you or anyone else). Despite this…she couldn’t ignore the fact that your abysmal fighting skills would indefinitely cause yet another concussion. She knew that you’d never let her or anyone else hear the end of it if you were walking around for the next couple of weeks with a head injury, complaining and whining annoyingly as you always did, and she did not have the patience to go through that again.

Wednesday also knew, irritatingly, that you would not listen to Enid, no matter what her roommate attempted to persuade you with; as close as you two were you tended to be infuriatingly stubborn at times, and now seemed to be one of them.

She turned and glared darkly at Thing, who was still tapping away insistently.

“This is the last time, and I will be doing it solely keep our sanity intact. Say otherwise and I will not hesitate to follow through on my threats.”

She was most certainly not doing this because she was concerned for your safety, which you obviously had no personal regard for.

If she was lucky she’d at least get to see some bloodshed.

As expected, upon entering the quad, there you were, beside the fountain, locked in a fight with a boy almost twice your size; obviously another werewolf by the size of him, and the untamed hair that nearly every male werewolf possessed.

Enid was among the couple of students watching, glaring at you as she looked for an opportunity to step in and pull you away; not that Wednesday thought you’d listen to her.

Wednesday noted disapprovingly that your hits were clumsy; surely this wasn’t the best you could do? She continued to watch as you swung left when you should’ve swung right, and caught a blow to the side of your stomach, rolling her eyes in disgust.

other students looked on with concern, worry, or perhaps exasperation, whereas Wednesday watched as her roommate tried desperately to pull you away from her opponent, the blonde’s eyebrows furrowing with frustration as her attempts were repeatedly proved useless, the faintest of smirks hinting at Wednesday’s lips as she watched her try and persuade you away from the fight, even though your eyes were alive with adrenaline, and what she thought to be a hint of sadism, blood dripping from your nose, and a wonderfully nasty bruise beginning to form on your cheek. Blood could look good on anyone, she observed, somehow even on you.

After about five minutes of what was clearly a pathetic attempt at fighting on your end, she let out a sigh of frustration and swiftly began moving through the quad toward you, muttering under her breath. With one hand she neatly grabbed your wrist and with enough force neatly yanked you backward, placing her heel firmly behind yours, which caused you to trip backward and onto the ground.

Ignoring your look of indignance and surprise, she stepped forward and dodged a swipe from your opponent, kicking out into his stomach and sending him reeling backward, glaring at him so fiercely that he didn’t dare try and fight back.

Turning to you, she fixed you with an equally cold glare, grabbing your wrist once more and pulling you up to your feet. Her eyes darted to the blood dripping from your nose, and the growing bruise on your face, and an irritated sigh escaped her. “What was it this time?”

“He wolf-whistled me,” your response was breathless through your pants, as the faint animalistic glow began to leave your eyes, signaling you were beginning to calm down.

“So you decided to fight him?” the raven raised an eyebrow, annoyed - “The least you could do is fight decently.”

You frowned slightly and began to respond before you were interrupted by Enid approaching, a visible frown of exasperation, annoyance, and concern on her face. Wednesday released your wrist, fixing you with that same cold glare before leaving you with Enid and exiting the quad, returning to her original task.

It was about ten or fifteen minutes later when Wednesday returned from the greenhouse, and when she opened the door to her dorm found you on Enid’s bed, with Enid tending to your wounds..

Ignoring both of you, she sat down at her desk, placing a sheet of paper in her typewriter. As she began typing, her eyes remained locked on the words being type, although unfortunately she couldn’t drown out your occasional grumbles or huffs.

*Smack*

“Ow! Enid, what the hell?!”

“Stop squirming!”

Wednesday continued typing, but the sound of your well-deserved little smack from Enid did bring a slightly sadistic hint of a smirk to her lips as she worked, though your already irritating little complaints were becoming more and more annoying.

“Silence would be appreciated,” she remarked coldly, still typing.

“You’re not going to pay any attention to me?” your voice came out slightly congested; clearly the bloody nose was catching up to you.

*smack*

“I said hold still!”

Wednesday couldn’t help rolling her eyes, continuing to type. The steady hum of her typewriter became more of her focus as she honed in on the sound of it rather than your grumbles; although she couldn’t deny that she enjoyed hearing your soft winces of pain every now and then.

As she tore one of the finished pages carefully from the typewriter and aligning it in the box containing her novel, you complained.

“You’re taking too long on purpose.”

Enid responded with a hint of impatience.

“Then stop wriggling so much! It’s like I’m bandaging a child instead of a damn werewolf.”

“I can do it myself, you know.”

“No, you can’t. If you were in charge here you’d just “let it heal on it’s own” and do nothing. Now shut up and let me work, I’m almost done.”

Wednesday exhaled through her nose; she most definitely did not want to help, but she needed you out of the room so she could focus, and Enid was taking a ridiculously long amount of time to finish what could’ve been done in five minutes.

Standing stiffly and pushing away from her desk, she walked over to Enid’s side, approaching you on the bed; upon closer examination, the bruise on your cheek was beginning to swell, though luckily the bleeding in your nose had stopped. Rolling her eyes, she glanced at Enid, raising an eyebrow.

“You didn’t consider getting an icepack?”

The blonde looked back up at her with a small, indignant frown - “it took me this long just to get Y/N’s nose to stop bleeding.”

Wednesday gazed over at you, eyes narrowing slightly as she sighed

“Thing, go retrieve an icepack from the cafeteria.”

The faint scuttling of the hand obeying her command gave her the confirmation to move on, and she reached out, touching your bruise firmly but carefully, causing you to wince and pull away.

“Stop moving, you’re acting like a child. Even Enid is tougher than you,” she remarked, causing a huff of annoyance from the blonde. “If you hadn’t been fighting in the first place this wouldn’t even be happening.”

Her eyes briefly flicked up from your bruise to your eyes as you responded

“It’s not my fault. He started it.”

“Do I even have to ask?” She muttered, eyes returning to examining the bruise, which, although it was swollen didn’t look too serious. “He was nearly three sizes bigger than you; the least you could do is choose an appropriate opponent.”

“I’d call it brave, taking on a guy that size and leaving him with the marks that I did.”

“Foolish, more like.”

You rolled your eyes, and her lip curled into the faintest of smirks. Thing returned promptly, balancing an icepack on top of him as he hopped atop the bed. Nodding once in thanks, she took it and wrapped it in a handtowel that Enid had prepared, handing it to you and watching with another sigh as you pressed it your cheek.

“Y/N, you gotta stop getting into these fights. Learn to control yourself,” Enid said with a disapproving frown, causing you to scrunch up your eyes with indignance,

“I do control myself.”

“Wrong.” Wednesday glared at you. “You’re impulsive.”

You glared right back up at her. Bold of you. “So are you.”

Wednesday’s eyes narrowed slightly, “I’m starting to believe you want to become a rug.”

“I would make a lovely rug,” you muttered, eyes darting away. Good.

You got to your feet, still holding the icepack in your hand, and looked down at Enid.

“Look, if it makes you feel better, I’ll try and ‘control myself’, better in the future, okay?”

Enid looked back up at you and her expression softened, as usual. She couldn’t stay mad at you for long. “Good. I don’t want you dying on me. Wolves gotta stick together, y’know?”

Wednesday could feel herself getting nauseous at the horrible cliche, and she frowned, eyes narrowing. “Just leave; I have work to do.”

You turned, a small smirk on your face as you mock-saluted, turning on your heel. “See you later, Dr. Addams.”

Rolling her eyes, Wednesday stared at the door for a moment, arms folded, before she noticed Enid with a huge smirk on her face, similar to yours. Raising an eyebrow, she frowned slightly, “what?”

“Nothing,” she said in her dreadfully sing-song tone, which the raven chose to ignore as she sat back down at her desk, returning to her novel, eyebrows furled in annoyance as it took her a moment to wipe the image of you covered in both your and your opponent’s blood from her mind. Odd. Blood really did look good on anyone.

—————

pt.2 here!

#wednesday addams #wednesday series #wednesday x reader #wednesday #wednesday 2022 #jenna ortega #werewolf wednesday #werewolf #werewolf reader #tstt

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pogueswrld · 9 months

Text

*•.¸♡ make up sex ♡¸.•*

pairing: fred weasley x fem!plus-sized!reader

summary: Freddie talks too much, and his girlfriend is exhausting all the ways she knows to shut him up. Softly, of course.

warnings: smut🦢!1!1!1!1! there's plot and fluff, and everyone's of age ofc, although it is hinted that reader is still in Hogwarts, kinda sub!Fred top!reader, like he's whining and panting and begging and shit (bites lip) ANYWAY, dick riding hehe, no usage of y/n.

note: it is 2:59 pm on a Friday, let's see how fast I write this shit. note 0.2: Okay so it's 5:54 pm on the same day, I think I'm done. This isn't edited, but it took me 3 hours to write 😁

He was still talking. Why, in the name of Merlin, was he still talking?

Dating Fed Weasley is fun, there's no denying that, but Good Heavens isn't that a boy a handful. Both literary and figurative. He's got a wide imagination, a never-squelching desire for knowledge, and a big heart. That is a dangerous combination for a somewhat intelligent and never-quiet man.

She's a saint, his girlfriend, and Ginny made a point to always express that to her. "How do you put up with that all the time?" Gesturing to Fred, who was using his hands in elaborate motions as he went on his fourth rant of the morning on the same subject to George. She'd only shrug, lips engulfing another spoonful of whatever ice cream the girls were sharing. "In one ear and out the other darling."

Not to say that she hates it, or that it bothers her- quite the opposite actually. Fred's excited and hyper personality is what made him so interesting to her, it was what drew her to him in the first place. She enjoys listening to him rant, even about the most random things -he stopped her the other day and explained in great detail how penguins mate and how once the female accepts the male's proposing gestures, they're together for life- and she adores it.

Yes, it sure can be a bit much at times, but she wouldn't change it for the world. Imagine loving a man who was as boring and dry as his older brother, Percy? She would have to jump out of Ginny's bedroom window!

Today was her first day back in the Burrow from Hogwarts for summer break, and she was exhausted, to say the least. She was up from dawn, finishing up the last bits of her packing before leaving for the train station with Harry, Hermione, and Ron. And because she's a good friend, she made sure each of her friends made it to their transportation safely before she and Ron were picked up by Fred and George.

In the car, Ron opened the untameable can of worms by mentioning Bill who was staying over at the Burrow for the summer as well, taking a couple of months' worth of vacation away from the dragons and such. That was the spark Fred needed to blast off into a hundred rants one after the other.

He spoke about seeing Bill again, which is understandable, he hasn't been home in years. He spoke about the dragons, which led to his excited mention of his favorites and how he's going to ask Bill how it was training them. Then he turned to Quidditch training, and even though both him and George had left Hogwarts a year or so ago, the both of them still found time to play the game as a side hobby. After that was all done, George gave her and Ron and update on the shop, and Fred went on and on about all kinds of new candies and flavors and combinations they were working on to add to the store by the beginning of next year.

She was understandably tired by the time the Burrow came into view. And as much as she adores her boyfriend, she needed him to shut the fuck up for twenty minutes. But he's so sweet, and his eyes light up when talking, and he gets this beautiful energy surrounding him when he does it that she doesn't have the nerve to ask him to be silent for a bit. So she excuses herself and tries to bury her body under the covers of his bed.

But he finds her there, and he reports to her that dinner is ready, and that Bill is here, and that she looks so gorgeous on his bed, and that there's a strange animal in the backyard, and that Ginny tried to curse the bathroom when he went in to use it, and that he doesn't understand why she'd do that, and that George is out in the garage, and that-

She jolts up on his bed, her eyes twitching as she stares at him. He looks so beautiful, but he's talking too damn much. She cups his face, and he goes silent and stares at her with wide eyes.

"Wha'?" He mumbled, his lips squished together as she squeezed his cheeks.

"You talk too much, ya' know that?" She said, her thumb slightly caressing the apples of his cheeks.

He opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water, and tilts his head ever so slightly. "Do' it bothe' yo'?"

She giggles breathlessly and lets go of his face before pressing her lips tightly against his. "Not all the time, but times like today..." She rests her forehead against his and sighs, "It can be a lot, and I need you to read the room and tone it down a little bit, d'ya think you can do that for me?"

He stares, something in his gaze changes, and he nods. "Of course, baby. Whateva' you want."

Great. Now she feels bad. She sighs and pushes past the blankets swallowing her to sit up on her knees. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and pulls him into a hug. "I love you, truly love you, and I don't mean to be mean to you, and you know I love it when you ramble, but I'm really overwhelmed today, darling. I'm sorry."

Fred wraps his arms around her waist in return, hugging her tightly. It's true that he can't always read the room, and now that he's no longer attending school he's got much more free time on his hands than he knows what to do with. It takes him a couple days to be able to read his girlfriend's body language like he used to once she's home from school, and he feels terrible that he was one of the reasons for making her feel so incredibly overwhelmed. He also feels slightly ashamed of his non-stop rambling all day.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck, mumbling something into her skin that made her shiver and giggle away from him. "Stop," she breathes in a giggle, "It tickles."

He chuckles, his hands squeezing at the skin of her waist as he stares at her dreamily. "I said, I'm sorry I made you feel overwhelmed, I promise to try and do better."

She grins at him, so brilliantly, that he can't help but lean down and capture her lips in a soaring kiss. "I love you." He mumbles against her lips, and she smiles while trying to kiss him back. "C'mon now, love, let's go have dinner."

Her eyes darken; her pupils widen, and she smiles that mischievous grin that he adores so much, and he groans while throwing his head back. He knows exactly what is on her mind.

"I have a better idea." She whispers, giggling as she throws herself into his lap and kisses him with such force that she's pushing him down on his bed. He yelps, his hands traveling to the bed and her waist, holding on to her for stability. Bubbling heat travels across his body through her kiss, and he sighs when her cold fingertips trace down his arms, sending goosebumps across his body.

Her kisses transfer from his lips to the sides of his mouth, his cheeks, down his jawline, until she's pampering open-mouthed kisses across his neck like stardust.

He sighs, his eyes closed and his head thrown back on the pillow. "Please," He breathed, a low whine undertoning his voice. She shivers above him, her teeth grazing his skin in a teasing bite.

She's always hated the effect his voice has on her.

"Please what, darling?"

He whines. It's low, for her ears only, it's a barely-there breath, but his mouth is right next to her ear and she hears him loud and clear. Her panties dampen almost immediately.

"Please touch me," He whispers. His hands gripped tightly to her thighs. He knows better than to roam her body without permission. She pulls back slightly, blinking up at him with a soft smile and long lashes. "But I am touching you, Freddie."

He knows this game. This cruel, cruel game she adores to play. He whines in pretentious of hating his role, but his hips buck, and his cock twitches underneath the fabrics of his boxers and trousers.

He slowly traces one of his hands from her thighs to her palm before letting her fingers rest on his aching cock. He guides her hands to gently rub him through his clothes and he lets out a breath when her fingers squeeze around him. "Touch me there." He gasps.

She entertains him, allowing him to set the pace and buck into her hold. He releases deep breaths and low whines, stuttering moans every time she tightens her grip around him. She can feel herself getting wetter by the second, how his eyes are shut desperately, his teeth bite down on his bottom lip, and her name is gasped out of his throat with every other movement. It makes her feel powerful, it makes her entire being vibrate.

"That's enough." She mumbles, pulling her hand out of his grasp and bathing in his complaining whines as she pulls off her shirt. He blinks up at her, watching her boobs bounce in the push-up bra she's wearing before she unhooks it and slides it off her shoulders. He blinks again and swallows whatever drool and saliva has gathered in his mouth, causing his Adam's apple to pop along with the action. She smiles at the sight and quickly bends down to leave a swift kiss on it.

"Take off your shirt." She commands him, and he does so without hesitation, throwing the garment somewhere on the floor of the room he shares with his twin brother. He watches her hands intensely as she teases him by running her thumb on the inside of her trouser's elastic, before slowly pulling the item down and off. He groans at the sight of his favorite panties on her; a partially lacey red thong that settles up between her butt cheeks. She always told him how uncomfortable it made her, but the look on his face when he saw it on her made every second she spent wearing it worth it.

"You're trying to kill me, love?" He groans, daring himself to take a dangerous leap and push his thumb against the damp cloth, pushing down on where he knows her clit hides. He glances up at her, watching the way her lips part and her mouth hangs open at his action.

"And what am I to tell George when he asks? Death by a red thong?"

He grins up at her, picking up the speed at which he's rubbing on her bud of nerves. "Only if you're the one wearing it."

She shudders, forcefully holding herself back from grinding against his thumb. Instead, she grips his wrist and pushes it away from her. She hooks two fingers on each side of his trousers and boxers before meeting his eyes, watching as he licks his lips and nods before pulling the clothing items down his hips and legs.

His cock bounces out from underneath the fabric happily, it smacks against his lower abdomen and she giggles at the sight of precum beads rolling down his slit. He whines, throwing his arm on his face to cover the embarrassing blush that matched his hair color. "Don't laugh at me, why're you so mean to me today?"

Her giggle grows louder, and she leans down to push his arm off his face. "I never intend on being mean to you, my darling, you just bring it out of me. I'm sorry." She mumbles as she meets his gaze, her hand cupping one side of his face and he leans towards her touch. "Don't hide from me, yeah?"

He nods.

"Good boy."

He whines, his eyes squeeze shut and his jaw drops when her fingers wrap around him again, but her thumb is collecting his precum before spreading it down his length before she works a steady rhythm going up and down. His whines slowly turn into moans. His noises were so heavenly that she could swear her wetness was flowing through the fabric of her thong and onto the skin of her thighs.

She sees his muscles contracting and she stops, removing her hand from him altogether. He opens his eyes, blinking up at her in confusion as a noise of complaint slips out of his throat. But he swallows it back up when he sees her push her thong to the side and spread her folds before sitting on his length, and she grinds back and forth on him without actually allowing him access to her.

He groans, throwing his head back. She's coating him in her juices and there's a delicious squelching noise coming from between them and it's driving him insane. He sucks air into his lungs through clenched teeth and shudders when she allows a single moan to slip through her parted lips.

Suddenly, he's engulfed in her warmth and he hisses. His hands grip tightly to her thighs, hips, and any plump skin he can find. He squeezes her, hissing, and pants until he's sheathed completely inside of her. "Slow down," He gasps, "Slow- slow down, slow down, slow down." His voice turns from low breaths to almost high-pitched whines, and she leans down and captures his lips in a silencing kiss.

"Need you to lay here and keep your pretty mouth shut, darling, can you do that? Can you stay quiet for me so your family doesn't hear us fucking?" He whines, hips bucking into her warm cunt causing his eyes to roll to the back of his head as he nods mindlessly. "Yes, yes, yes. I'll be quiet. Fuck- please, baby, please fuck me."

She giggles at his desperate whines, and slowly rocks her hips back and forth, just enough movement to send pleasure jolts but not enough to get them going. She was testing the waters, trying to see how loud he could get without giving him much of anything.

Fred was losing his mind, he could feel her walls clamp down on him every time she moved back, and he could feel himself nudging against her feel-good spot every time she moved forward. Her wetness made a mess out of both of them, making it easy to slide into her and pick up the pace.

He arched his back slightly, just enough to hint at her to go faster. Because she was starting to feel frustrated, she obliged. She switched from grinding down on him to bouncing, her knees and hips working overtime to not make a noise every time her ass cheeks met his thighs.

She's now moaning, leaning down to muffle her noises by his neck or breathe them directly into his ear. Fred's eyes roll to the back of his head every time, and his hands grab onto the fat of her hips to help her.

"I-" She gasps, pushing herself upwards, clamping down on him tightly before forcing deep thrusts with her movement. "I'm gonna cum." She whimpers, and her legs begin to shake and fail her. Fred let out a loud breath that turned into a whimper before pushing himself up and, with a tight hold of her hips, forced her up and down his cock.

"Wa- wanna feel you. Wanna feel you gush around me. Give it to me, please." He whines, his words muffled into her temple, his eyes closed as her walls flutter around him, her body shivering against him and her lips part in long whines. One of his hands sneaked in between them, and his thumb drew quick circles around her clit, just enough to electrify her over the edge.

She freezes up, squeezes down on him and Fred is gone. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tightly down on him, the repeated squeeze of her walls stimulated him over the edge and they were shaking through their highs together. Her hands were buried in his hair, his hands holding onto her hips, while their lips interlocked in an overflowing kiss.

A few seconds later, their mouths parted as they gasped for air, holding onto one another as their highs dwindled. He traced random shapes on her bare back while she scratched at his scalp in a way she knew he loved.

He was the first to pull back, looking up at her with nothing but love and adoration. He tilts his head and grins, "Do you still want to go down for dinner?"

She laughs, heartily and loudly out of his arms and back onto the bed. "If you'll be going downstairs for a plate, get me one with you. There's no way I can look your mum in the eye after this."

#fred weasley #weasley twins #bill weasley #george weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x fem!reader #plus sized reader #harry potter #hp fandom #hp fanfic

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jadewritesficshere · 1 year

Text

Wrecked

Eddie Munson x Reader

Content: oral (male receiving) slight sub!Eddie. Listen I just really wanna suck him

18+ only

Your eyes snapped open, adjusting to the darkness in the room as the VHS shut off with a click. The light from the TV seemed harsh, jarring you from the quietness surrounding you. It woke you up from your sleepy state, heart thumping wildly as you realized you had fallen asleep against Eddie. Eddie, who talked a mile a minute and told you interesting facts while watching movies, who had gone silent almost an hour ago as you started to drift off. Eddie, who had an arm wrapped around your shoulder, hand lazily drawing patterns on your arm where it rested. Your head against his chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart. "Sorry," you yawned as you sat up," Did I fall asleep?"

Eddie blinked slowly before smiling," Don't worry 'bout it. You need to rest." You lazily smile at him as he stands up. He stretches slowly, joints popping that remind you that neither of you are near your teens anymore. He reaches his arms above his head in a stretch, shirt traveling up just enough to give you a sneak peak of his stomach. Pale skin that showed the stark colors of the dragon curled over the top of his belly button. The dragon that had it's mouth open as if it was blowing fire, fire that actually was pink scars courtesy of the demobats. The scars that he always had a different story for when people saw ("I got attacked by a bear." "A witch cursed me." "I didn't eat my vegetables." "I used to defuse bombs").

Your eyes caught on his belly button, the stupid piercing he got claiming "a dragon had to have a hoard". The blue light from the tv causing the jewelry to glint, showing a kaleidoscope of rainbows in the opal gemstones. Your breath caught at the smattering of hair that trailed down from his belly button. Down to the band of his sweatpants that hung low on his hips. Plaid boxers peeking over the hem of his pants obscured your view of the slight v shape of his hips. The TV light providing the perfect amount of light and shadow to show the slight definition of his abs he had gained from long hours as a mechanic.

The sting from biting your lip pulled you from your casual perusal of Eddie's frame. Eddie who hadn't even noticed and was waving his hands around talking as he stared off at the wall,"- but those are just rumors. I mean if they do make a movie, it better be close to the book. No creative liberties. I want to see the book come to life, ya know? I want the dwarves to have full beards, especially the women and-"

You stand up abruptly," Shut the fuck up." Eddie pauses at your abrupt words and movement. Silence spans a few seconds as he notices the glimmer in your eyes," Excuse you?" You hum, running your eyes up and down his frame. Eddie was definitely a man, no longer the boy you had met in high school. He had filled out more, had some scruff on his jawline. His sweatpants had a hole in his knee and there was a stain on his shirt, but he had never looked more beautiful to you. And you had never wanted to fuck him more.

Eddie tilted his head slightly, untamed and frizzy curls bouncing as he tried to decipher the look in your eye. "I will gladly listen to this conversation, but I can't pay attention right now. Not when you're," you wave your hand gesturing to him," that!" Eddie scoffs," Excuse you? That?." One step is all it takes to get in his space, Eddie instinctively taking a step back.

You push on his chest, firm beneath your open palms, causing him to stumble back into the couch. He lands with a grunt and looks up at you with a look of exasperation. He goes to open his mouth to say what you're sure is a snarky remark, but all thoughts leave his head as you grab his knees spreading them open and kneeling in front of him. His jaw drops as he stares at you between his legs. You bat your lashes at him in what you hope is a seductive look, but let's be honest, both you and Eddie suck at flirting. You trail one hand up from his knee, barely touching as your fingers dance their way up his thigh. His cheeks flush, a beautiful dusty pink that spreads down his neck towards his chest. You wonder how far that blush goes as you lift the hem of his shirt.

Eddie is staring at you, frozen in time. You clearing your throat as you tug on his shirt knocks him from his reverie. "Yeah, okay, fuck uh yea." He leans forward enough to pull the shirt over his head. You lick your lips at the expanse of tattooed skin you see. You lean in, trying to decide where to start. You look up through your eyelids at him, slowly licking the happy trail, that definitely made you happy. The image of you licking his skin, peering up at him through your lashes, was burned into Eddie's retinas. Eddie's knuckles were white as he gripped the couch cushions. His stomach flexed unintentionally at the warmth of your tongue. The small whimper he let out fueled your desire, heat pooling low in your stomach. You nip and suck at his hips, one hand resting on his thigh, the other curled around his back to bring him closer to you. You pulled back after adding a lovely red mark that you know will fade to a bruise.

You can't believe you had fallen asleep next to this man, now the only thoughts involving a bed also involved cardio. You lightly trail a finger over the prominent bulge in his pants, earning a sharply inhaled breath and a buck of his hips. "Jesus fucking Christ," he groans, voice lower then you've ever heard. You lick your lips as your hands reach for the hem of his pants and-

"Wait!" Eddie startles you, and you glance up at his wrecked face. "Huh?" You blink a few times starting to pull back," Do you not..?" "No! No I do!" Eddie clears his throat and grabs the pillow next to him," I just...you should be comfortable..." His face flushes as he holds the pillow between you two, causing you to chuckle. You grab the pillow and put it under your knees, even if you don't need it. "Thanks baby. You're so thoughtful." Eddie preens under the praise, looking smug. Your hands return to his waist band, tugging his pants and boxers down. He lifts his hips to help and-

You've never thought a dick to be pretty before. Sure, you've seen some good ones but this? He's long, curved slightly to the right. Precum beading at the top of a head that is flushed so red it's almost purple. A prominent vein trailing the underside of his dick that you want to lick up. Curls around the base that were trimmed but still unruly. The tension is thick as you stare at his dick, wondering where to start. He twitches under your heavy gaze. "C'mon, don't make me wait.." Eddie mumbles. "You'll take what I give you, and you'll be thankful." You snap back, watching the man pout slightly. For all his bravado and extroverted demeanor, he has no power here and he knows it.

But you decide to have mercy on him as you flatten your tongue against his dick, deciding to follow the vein from his base to his tip. Eddie lets out a high-pitched whine followed by a "thank you", but you don't really care. Yes, it feels good for him, but this is also for your pleasure. You swirl your tongue around his leaking tip, tasting the salty essence. Eddie's hand finds the back of your head instinctively, not using any real force or grip. When you fully envelope his tip with your warm mouth and suck, all coherent thoughts of his are gone. He barely can remember his own name. One of your hands holding his hips back so he can't thrust up, the other wrapped around his dick slowly moving up and down.

Eddie sits there babbling nonsense, he never could stay quiet for long. And you wouldn't want him to, his moans and groans like music to your ears. You pull off of him earning a whine. Eddie's face is flushed, bangs stuck to his forehead, a slight sweat broken out on him. He looks down at you with those big brown eyes like you just kicked a dog. "Please? Fuck, please baby? Don't stop."

You smile up at the wrecked man, the man begging for you to continue. You can feel the light pressure of his hand against your head trying to push you closer to his groin. You could make him beg. Make him wait. But he looks so good like this, you want to see him completely blissed out. You inhale deeply before lightly putting the tip back in your mouth. Eddie has no time to mutter a thank you before you fully sink down on him. Your nose coming flush with the hair you admired earlier, taking him deep in your throat without gagging. "Oh fuckfuckfuck," Eddie pants above you, lost in the feeling of you. You hollow out your cheeks and suck, bobbing up and down along his length. He was a twitching writhing mess beneath you. You lightly palm at his balls, adding enough pressure to have Eddie moan. It didn't take him long before he came with a loud groan, hips bucking without a pattern. You swallowed it to the best of your ability, some leaking out and dripping down your chin.

When he was done, you pulled off him with a pop. Eddie's chest heaved as he panted above you. Eddie looked down from the ceiling, not sure when he had thrown his head back in ecstasy. You swipe the cum off your chin before licking your fingers, eyes locked with his. "Jesus Christ," he runs a hand through his hair and lets out a chuckle. You hum and smile up at him. Eddie lightly grasps your biceps, tugging you to get up,"Not sure what brought that on, but I think its time for me to return the favor. Get up here."

#Listen Eddie deserves to have his entire world view changed through a good bj #Blow him so good you blow his mind #Also idc if he is older that man cannot flirt #He is just a funky lil dude who is a terrible flirt he gets like 0 bitches #BUT even tho he is terrible at flirting I would still suck him off like any day #like call me a succubus the way I'm gonna succ your buss- okay no that...no #Unless.... 👀#Eddie Munson x y/n #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson/you #Eddie Munson/Reader #Eddie Munson smut #Eddie Munson #Stranger Things #Stranger Things smut #Gonna post this a SECOND time as uh not even my mutual saw it so...idk why but let's try this again #If yall let this flop you don't even deserve him 😤#Jade is Talking

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running-with-kn1ves · 4 months

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Hi lovely, to celebrate the new year! I was wondering if you could please do a fluff/smut with Cirden.

Does not have to be hardcore smut only a taste!! thank you so much 4 taking the time out of your day and writing we all appreciate your work.

A/N: took it in me to get this done before January ended!! putting this man in the spicy is so bittersweet b/c it feels so wrong (but so right). And thank you for your kindness!! Lord knows I've been needing some grace. Thank you for being so sweet I'm glad people actually see my stuff <33

CW: NSFW/SMUT, public(?) doing the dirty in the woods, hunting, elf X reader, established marriage

WC:2.8k

Gender Neutral Reader X Male Elf husband

"Raagghh. I haven't caught ANYTHING..." One of your arrows lands in the dirt, it's blade skinning against the ground before it fell flat. You couldn't even manage to stab a lizard that blundered past you, it's skittering body running as your arrow slumped.

"Don't get discouraged," Cirdan mumbled with unmoving lips, focused on the prey only a few meters in front of him. "It's only your first time with a bow and arrow."

He still managed to whisk away your heart in his crouched battle stance as you curled on the forest floor, his arrow flying as it released with a snap. The harsh squeak of a cottontail broke the silence of the ancient trees, a fatal jump being it's last movement before it succumbed to the ground in a helpless flop. Your husband moved forward without you to slice it's throat. You looked away in shame; he had been hunting for your dinners ever since your joint movement into the cottage currently a mile away; he had cut the heads off deer and ducks while you sat back and covered your eyes. You couldn't even shoot down a bird, not only from your poor aim but your heart lurched everytime you saw its feathered breast beat with life, its beak release a hymn of song. Every now and again you could garner the courage to help him defeather or clean the bones of his latest catch but when seeing their heads or lifeless eyes, it made your insides churn.

It was dispiriting, knowing you couldn't provide in the way he had learned to do since he was a child. But by Gods and Goddesses, did he not look fine holding that bow and pulling back its string, showing the strength in his chest and the unwavering focus in his grey-blue eyes. You memorialized the image in your head, toes scrunching deep in your sewn leather boots (created by cirdan and his many talents) with your knees pushed together, gaze focused on the ground.

"Whats wrong?"

You looked up from your place in the dirt and dead leaves, your spouse like a pretty ice mountain that you had to strain upwards to see. He placed three dead bunnies by their ears into the sack that was once on his back; if he were alone, he would've just carried them by hand back to the cottage.

"Nothing, I was just... thinking. It's beautiful out here."

You looked up at the canopy of trees, dappled light speckling between the small empty holes that neither branch nor bushy leaves covered to block the evening sun.

Cirdan bent down, placing his sack on the ground as a warm hand came to cover the top of your head. A calloused palm pushed your hair back, patting you with deadweight.

You couldn't see the rest of him with his gigantic arm in the way, his voice like an omniscient invisible God of the forest.

"Don't worry if you can't hunt...I'll do enough for the both of us," His palm slid to your cheek in a messy fashion, attempting to be heedful of how firm his touch was, too used to handling his bow with untamed strength for the day. His hand was a pillow on your cheek as he pressed his thumb against your temple. "It's my job to take care of you."

He spoke as if mostly to himself, thin silver lashes disguising his eyes while he watches your lips with a small, almost unnoticeable quiver. But he didn't waver as you stared back, gaze running from his deep pupils to his strong nose bridge, down to his dripping jugular.

It was tension inside you and it was unbearable. It took choking yourself back to not scream "just kiss me, dammit!"

But elves weren't the hasty type,(especially your aloof husband), and you didn't know what Cirdan would think if you came forward so hungrily. Would he think you were just some lust-crazed old bat that replaced the careful spouse he once knew?

"Come, let's go back; the wind is picking up. I won't let you catch a cold."

The forest was all but blowing, a leaf tumbling every now and again but practically silent. And yet, who were you to argue with the seasoned elf who had survived in forests like this?

You took the outstretched hand cirdan put in front of you, allowing him to practically lift you to your feet as your bow held limply in your other hand with defeat. Alas, another day with no progress in conquering your woodland fear.

You let Cirdan lead you, following him past old oaks and emptied burrows, unable to keep your wide eyes off of him. It was nice, to distract your disappointed mind from your empty game sack to the hauntingly beautiful portrait of the manly elf before you.

"What is it?" Cirdan stopped, looking at you with those long locks covering his scarred eye, the other staring with a darkened brow.

"Nothing!" You'd repeat, looking away with your antsy feet bouncing, hoping he'd somehow read the growing need inside of you. And this carried on a countless too many times before you saw the clearing that led to the desire path back home.

What were you to say? That you wanted him here and now? That you wished he'd just smile and hold you and tell you to take off your hunting clothes and everything underneath as soon as you got back home? Yeah, right. As if the stoic beast that you married would be so forward, as hopeful and desiring as you.

You sneaked glances, learning better than before when aiming to witness the veins in his forearm that traveled to the hand interlocked with yours, the pants that fit his slightly toned ass just right. Gods, were you really so sinful? But, was it so wrong to want your husband, to think of him panting above you and his beautiful thighs encasing you with heartache and hunger?

Cirdan stopped again. You were about to tell him now this time you really weren't looking but he didn't face you, instead dropping his bag along with an unused set of arrows accompanying his bow.

"I think... I understand."

You tilted your head at him, maybe at a poor attempt to get him to look at your cute side.

"I'm supposed to do more than...be a a simple protector."

You would've pressed for more information, if it weren't for the oddly timed shove towards a nearby tree. Cirdan took the bag from your hands faster than you could ask "what the hell are ya doing," his sharp face only mere inches away and angled as if he was about to kiss you.

But maybe, that was just your imagination, your mind centered only on his smoothened pinkish lips.

"Is this what you wanted...?"

The elf brute inched down, nudging your nose with a deep exhale. His hands engulfed yours, holding them down at your sides as he pressed his lips snuggly to your cupids bow.

The sheer power of his face pushed your skull against the tree; along with it a warm, humid hand came from behind to press along the curve of your back. His pointer finger inched, massaging into your tailbone as the elf's thigh quickly entrapped you between he and the old oak.

That hand moved down to the waist of your hunting trousers, digging beneath them to reach more savory skin.

You almost jumped at the slight clutch of your left ass cheek, your husbands eyes shut as he rubbed his forehead against you.

Lost words were grumbled under his breath with a gentle rasp, his other hand leaving your fingers as they braced against the bark of the tree behind you.

"Cirdan-- wha," you tried to figure out what you were feeling, what the right thing to do would be. Which was, to tell him that this was not the right place, nor the right time. But that gentle nudge of his tented crotch against your leg made any thoughts of lucidity drift.

"Want you..." He spoke, barely above a hum. "Isn't this, what you needed? Looking at me, at my..."

"Don't finish that sentence," you warned, unable to meet his gaze as he softly squinted open his eyes. "Maybe so but--! Right here?? Right now? In the woods?! Even I'm not desperate enough to make us do it...here."

"No creatures come to the edge of the woods... too smart for that. We're too far away for any hunters to venture close enough." You could see even he wasn't one to normally suggest this idea; but if anyone knew this forest, it was him. "Besides, said I want to take care of you.. did you not think I'd follow through on that..?"

"But, wait, I mean-" you nearly whined, hardly able to contain yourself with the hand massaging your backside, the fat of his buldge grinding into your quadricep. He was almost as bad as the rabbits he so skillfully caught, their known libidinous currently rivaling his own.

It was still atleast a 15 minute walk back to the cottage when following the path directly back. Could you make it that long? If not, could you bare the anxiety of having him bend you over in the woods completely out in the open?

"I didn't know you were so... pent up." You choked. "I mean, you're not just doing this for me, right?"

Who were you kidding? He was practically rubbing on you like a fox in heat.

"Please don't make me beg." He looked at you directly, finding your lost-at-sea eyes that had been rapidly searching for any creature or holy figure nearby witnessing you and your husbands' immoralities. He wasn't whining nor desperate but rather asking you, to please, not make him put himself even lower at your mercy-- if that was even possible.

His directness caught you off guard; sure, you had been on the edge of ripping your clothes off and throwing yourself at him but-- to have him beat you to the punch?

You couldn't help yourself when he leaned in, his soft locks brushing against your shoulder as the tip of his pink tongue swiped your lower lip, his confidence having grown since the first time you made love to him in the dark.

You opened your mouth greedily, nearly starvingly so as you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders. How could you say no, when he asked you so genuinely, when your groin ached to be caressed by him?

With the confession of your open mouth and the lewd noises of your labored breaths, Cirdan moved quicker than with the normal diligent pace he tended to do everything with. In a split second your leg was wrapped around his hip, his large hand rubbing gently at the front zipper of your trousers, reaching in deep between your legs to get a good cup full o' you.

You couldn't just ignore the cries of his loins as he lunged forward, desperate for your affection. You undid the two buttons holding the elf's own wood-colored slacks up. They drooped only slightly to show the clean grey of his happy trail, your palm digging in to reach for the stiff piece that craved a special touch.

It slid out so easily, his tip warm against your wrist. You couldn't help but watch him leak just a bit, slightly hard as a thin vein pulsed under your thumb.

"Gods please...I said t'not make me beg." He muffled in your ear, taken aback uncharacteristically as you stroked with the intent to milk him for all he had.

It was so cute and fat, the small grey-white hairs of the front of his cock leading down to his crowned jewels, making you appreciate the differences between humans and elves. His pointed ears twitched upward as he practically foamed at the mouth against your neck. A gentle palm came to push your shoulder against the tree with simplicity.

Without unzipping, cirdan shifted to pull your pants and undergarments down to your knees; in a matter of two seconds he managed to strip you half naked. Your hand was pulled away from the elf, interlocked instead with his fingers as your bare thigh was hoisted further up against his naked hip.

His chest pressed up against you as he slowed to get inside, looking at you with glazed over, hooded eyes. He didn't look away, he couldn't. There was something about the sweat at the corner of your brow, your slightly ajar lips that kept him going, entering inside of you with raw cock and raw determination, awaiting to see that expression of nearful ecstasy that would wash away all the neediness you had been experiencing.

You didn't know how he could do it, stare at you so intently without any break away while you sweated under his gaze. If he wasn't currently bottoming out inside of you right now, you would've felt like you were under interrogation. You both huffed simultaneously once your hole swallowed up the entirety of him, your right leg limp over his thigh as he pressed you up further against the tree.

"Feel okay?" Cirdan panted, and you could see he was barely keeping himself at bay. What a gentleman, controlling himself from fucking you blind-- not that you would've minded the latter, of course.

You responded in turn by grinding down on him, rolling your hips forward to have that needy, hungry and achingly thirsty spot become just a little farther quenched.

It was difficult to not throw your head back and scream, feeling so warm and full as you gripped the back strands of the elfs hair.

With the time you had spent with him you realized Cirdan wasn't much of a grunter, preferring unconsciously to huff and pant and wordlessly suck through his teeth when he was inside of you. If you were lucky, you'd get to see him furrow his brows in exasperation, frowning as if he was concentrating hard on something important and not just from rocking into you. The challenging part about being his first lover however, was that he was still learning not to finish in the first few seconds of plunging inside.

"Ill.. n'take care of yo..u" he muttered, lifting your hips as your bare ass scraped against the bark of the tree. "Take care so good..."

You would've laughed at his drunken fervor if you didn't find it so endearing, the urge to stick your tongue into his heated cavern of a mouth washing over you like a wave.

Cirdan accepted the kiss greatfully, placing a hand behind your head to grace your thump against the tree. You could hear the branches shake, a stray dead leaf falling on the top of your head as he rutted forward, your own pelvic floor pushing against his thrusts. The elf's nose smushed against the side of your own, lips practically consuming one another as his lashes brushed your cheek. Sweat formed on your back dripping to your legs, but you didn't care. It felt too good, your senses only focusing on where he was caressing or what would be next, the cold breeze reminding you that you were still outside.

That fear remained in the back of your mind, your eyes occasionally opening and scanning the forest that you could see beyond Cirdan. But there was nothing, nothing but the trees and dead fallen logs blocking pathways.

Your kisses drifted away as you saw a hunched over deer, somewhat 10 paces away with its head burrowed in a bush.

Cirdan slowed, the deep drilling inside of you now merely a thick discomfort of occasional thrusts. He could feel you were getting lost in your worry, your grip on his shoulders loosening.

"Ma’sal’shiral," he grabbed your chin, turning you away from the fear of the forest. "Going to make you feel love unlike any creature has known;" he kissed you with wet lips, giving you breath and teeth. "So please, don't turn from me."

The horrible ache in his eyes, the twitch inside of you-- for how torturous it was for yourself, it was just as bad for him. You would've apologized, turned the mood even further south into sourness if he hadn't begun rocking again, holding your back to keep your sensitive skin away from the tree. He huffed into your cheek, pressing hard up against you as he cherished everything he could touch. The deer that once took over your thoughts was now pushed to the edge, your eyes half-shut now that all you could feel was the depth of your husband, his precum mixing with the heat of your hole. The crude sound of skin on skin, the slight slap of elf balls hitting your ass-- it nearly sent your mind into overdrive.

And even with the pain of tree bark rubbing against your skin, the stench of petrichor and sweat in your nose, you wouldn't trade this moment for anything.

This might even be better than the bed... Okay, maybe not. But that didn't matter with Cirdan so far inside of you he huffed with inclination, tempting to keep his orgasm at bay.

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theblueflower05 · 1 year

Text

Yawnyewla(Broken Heartedness) | Part Two

A/N: It has been a crazy month or so, real life has brutalized me. Sorry you guys are getting this chapter later than planned Avatar + the Omegaverse has been my comfort lately. @cinetrix you have been especially supportive and I lova ya bby. Thank you for making me some Mega Neteyam to keep my writing brain on! The art below is made by her and omg right?

Word Count: 10k+

Warnings: Alien sex. Alien Genitalia. Oral sex(female and male receiving), Fingering(female and male receiving) Cursing. Angst(it’s me, duh) and mild talks about past grooming. Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics.

Summary: You’re the Metkayinan Olo’eykete in training, but sometimes even you buckle under the crippling pressure. Will Neteyam be there to comfort you?

Omega Neteyam x Female Alpha Reader

Series Masterlist

<Part One

Part Three>

You only ever touch me in the dark,

Only when we’re drinking can you see my spark.

And only in the evening would you give yourself to me,

Cause the night is your woman and she’ll set you free

-Lies, Marina and the Diamonds

Your life had always been ruled by carefully crafted routine. Early mornings as the sun rose on the glittering sea, and late nights after most were tucked away.

Being the eldest daughter in any family came with its own list of responsibilities. But for you, the eldest of the reigning Olo’eyktan and Tsahik who also happened to be an Alpha, it seemed like you had been born with duty running through your bloodstream. Burdened with glorious purpose.

It had been clear from an early age just what was expected of you. A life, lived for your people, was your destiny.

And at most times that was okay.

You were happy to serve, it was in your nature to care for others. Good Alpha’s, your mother had taught you, are not ruled by ego. Or violence. Strength comes from within, is a honed skill like fishing or net weaving. Strength is taking care of your family. Helping the elderly and the young. Making sure everyone has a full belly before they lie their head down for bed.

You we're a good Alpha, or at least you tried to be. You knew you could be if you tried. If you could just be calm for long enough to focus.

Ronal liked to say that you were more like the ocean than anyone she had ever met. She had birthed the sea incarnate- with its strong crashing, never faulting, waves. It’s vastness. It’s life-giving vitality.

And its wild nature.

There was something unsettled about you. Deep down, you would never be still. There was a need to learn. Explore. To fight and scream and run. An untamed side of you that Ronal and Tonowari had watched with equal parts amusement and hesitancy during your childhood.

From a young age you’d jumped from the highest cliffs. Sailed out past the reef. Engaged in fights with warriors twice your size, Limping away from tussles with a crimson tinged grin and your big blue eyes sparkling.

The older you get, the more you try to temper it. You desperately attempt to shove it somewhere hidden and out of sight. You can't be what anyone wants you to be with all of this restlessness inside of you. You can't support your father's throne or keep your people healthy-

There’s no room for it. For you, at your core. In your soul.

No one wants a wild woman.

You’d heard it before, it had left a bitter taste in your mouth and a stain on your heart.

In your younger years you were a bit of a trouble maker, but you’d like to think you'd reformed. If only a little bit. It’s not like you truly had the time to get into messes anyway.

Especially not at this time of year.

Though it’s sacred, a time for joy and festivity, it’s exhausting. To say the least. With the Iknimaya ceremony and The Return of the Tulkun looming in the very near future, the village of Awa’atlu was a buzz.

There’s preparations to be made. And endless list of duties to fulfill-

And yet, this migration cycle, you lag.

Usually, you run around like an austrapede(chichen like creature) with its head cut off. Heading to your parents every word. Not getting a moment to truly breathe, your sole focus on making sure that the ceremonies went smoothly-

Something else entirely has your attention. A certain golden eyed man that had bewitched you completely.

You thought you had known infatuation before Neteyeam.

You've certainly had crushes before.

There had been others who caught your eye, definitely.

But this? You’d never felt anything close to this. You think about him when you awake in the morning and before you fall asleep. When you’re not with him, you're aching for the moment that you can find time to slip away and get your hands back on his hard, muscle corded body. Your mind constantly assaults you with images of him. His broad shoulders and long braids. His mouth, swollen and puffy. His deep moans as you bring him over the edge-

“Look at you” Your good friend, Akime, grunts through a laugh. Breaking you from your reverie.

You’d been sat with a group, working on repairing weapons for the Great Hunt that would ensue after the Iknimaya trials.

But Neteyam had walked by with his father.

Doing something mundane, toting heavy woven baskets to the big main Mauri for dinner. His arm muscles bulging in a way that had you greedily tracing his form. He’d only given you a small nod in acknowledgement as he passed. An even smaller smile.

“Shut your mouth-and focus on your whittling. I pity the poor soul who ends up with that lopsided spear” you retort with a roll of your eyes.

You're not embarrassed about being caught ogling. You knew you weren't the only one. The Omiticayan transplant was one of the most gorgeous Omega’s that had ever stepped foot on the islands. Everyone was a bit dazed.

“He’s very pretty, I'll give you that. But he’s so stand offish- I could never see you with a mate like that, yawne(beloved)” Akemi was your closest confidant outside of your family.

A Beta who stood much taller than you and had the brawn of two men but was the kindest Na’vi you’d ever met. A gentle giant so to speak. He wore his dark hair pulled into a loose bun at the nape of his neck most days and black ink tattoo’s swirled around most of his body. A decorated warrior and hunter with the tattoos to prove it.

Everyone had assumed the two of you would mate, until he met his husband. Another Beta Male from one of the smaller islands. The two had all but raised Akemi’s cousin, Roxto, after the abrupt and tragic passing of the younger boy's parents.

“He’s really not,” you sigh, shaking your head as you sharpen the blades.

“Oh? I don't think I've ever heard him speak more than a few words at a time. And he always has that look on his face- like he swallowed a Wonwon fruit(lemon like fruit)”

Neteyam has many skills, you’d learned as you’d spent endless hours training him. Being a social butterfly is surely not one of them. He clams up around big groups, gets nervous and awkward. You find it endearing, even though you know the Omega is really hard on himself for it. He’s actually really funny and easy to talk to when you get to know him.

“He’s shy, be nice” you chide your friend easily. “There is nothing wrong with him not wanting to gab all day with any and everyone”

“Hah! I guess your loud skxawng ass can talk for the both of you. You never shut up” Akemi dodges the small shell you throw at him “But really, he’s so different then what you usually go for-” Akemi goes on and if it was anyone else you’d shove them off. Tell them to mind their own business.

Neteyam had made it clear that he wanted to keep what the two of you had under wraps, at least for now. And even though that wasn't what you particularly wanted, you respected his wishes.

“And what is it I usually go for, pray tell?” your brow bone rises, confrontational and curious.

“People just as annoying as you” Akemi dead pans and you can’t help but snort “You like Na’vi who challenge you. Who are just as bold and loud and daring. Is he not too…soft for you, my friend?”

In the past you had been attracted to men and women who matched the spark in you. And it had always ended in misery. In yelling and fighting and you questioning if you're meant to be alone because in partnerships you seem to always chase away the other.

But with Neteyam it’s different. He isn't a challenge, he doesn't want to knock you down a peg or make you change…he only wants to be your equal.

“Just because he’s quiet doesn't mean he’s soft” you defend the Omega like he’s your own, because that’s all you want. You want to wear his bite “He’s actually the fiercest warrior I’ve ever trained. His skillset is unmatched. I mean, I can keep up with him. But just barely”

Akemi chews this over. Continuing to carve at the spear in his hands “It sounds like he’s impressed you” and that's not an easy feat. You both know. “I'm excited to see his performance for the Iknimaya”

You are too. You can't wait to watch Neteyam shine.

The ocean had not been his chosen terrain, but oh. How beautiful it had been to watch him master it. He rode Tsurak like he had been doing so for years. Uses the crossbow like it had been made just for him.

You liked your partner's competent, and Neteyam checked every. Single. Box.

“If he has you caught in his net, why don't you announce your courtship?” Akemi questions because he knows he can. That he’s your best friend and that you and those walls and that strong strong heart can be open with him.

You hesitate. Chew on your lip for a moment.

“He’s not ready for anyone to know yet” the words are hard. You get it. Neteyam’s not a fledged “adult” member of the Metkayina yet. But many court before their rites, before mating.

“Y/N…”Akemi sighs and it makes your hackles rise.

“It’s fine. It makes sense. He’ll come around after his Iknimaya- that’s the only reason why” you insist to your friend. To yourself.

Akemi purses his lips before he speaks. Choosing his words wisely “I hope that is the case, I truly do. But…you’re my closest friend. I only want your happiness, and investing your feelings into someone who doesn't reciprocate isn't the smartest move, yawne. I just don't want to see you fall into any old patterns”

He doesn't want to watch you pledge your love to another man who's going to stomp all over your feelings. It’d been devastating to bare witness to last time.

You don't like to speak of it. Try not to even think of it. But it doesn’t take from the fact that it had happened.

“I will be fine” You insist, a smile plastered on your face, fake as can be “I’d like to think i’m not that stupid anymore”

Akemi’s nostrils flare “You we’re never stupid, you were young. And vulnerable. You know that right-”

“Please” you interrupt him, head shaking firmly “I don't want to get into this now” or ever.

Most people know not to push you.

That you’d fight back tooth and nail when you feel threatened- but much like your family. Akemi isn't scared of your claws and slick mouth. He’s very much going to push the issue- but is interrupted before he can.

It’s Ao’nung and Roxto, coming down the beach.

Rough housing, tails bumping each other. Even if he hadn't been Akemi’s kin, Roxto would be your favorite of your little brothers friends. He kept Ao’nung in check.

“Y/N!” your brother calls as he approaches- “Sempul wanted you. Says he needs you to help with the Mauri renovations or something.”

He plops down beside you, all the way in your personal space, and you give him a look. Overgrown man-child. Whatever was he going to do when mother had the new baby and he wasn't the youngest anymore?

Roxto stays standing, greeting you politely like the good boy he was. Akemi had done wonders raising him. He turns to his cousin and speaks about plans for dinner for their grandmother.

“When?” you question. You really had hoped you’d be left out of that project, you weren't much of an architect and painting and plastering all day was b o r i n g beyond compare.

“This afternoon” Ao’nung continues.

“But I’m training Neteyam later” you push, your stomach dropping at the thought of not getting to spend your usual time with the Omega. It seems like these days the trainings were few and far between- and after his Iknimaya, he wouldn't need them at all.

“Not today. Tsireya’s gonna have all of ‘em, free diving practice I think” Ao’nung continues, as he reaches for your canteen. Taking big sloppy drink.

“But-”

“Fathers orders, not mine” Ao’ shrugs and you know that he’d had no part in the decision making. Was only an unfortunate messenger.

Still. You snatch your leather canteen with a hiss, standing up. “That's mine, you little freeloader. I hope you’re going to be helping Tsireya with her lessons, your still on thin ice from the Lo’ak incident”

“I am going to help!”

“Good, you better be nice to them” you warn as you gather your belongings and prepare for an afternoon of helping out with Mauris instead of with your sweet Neteyam. Your mood soured greatly.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve been nice lately, have I not? Roxto, haven't I been nice?” Aonung turns to his friend who does nod.

“As nice as Aonung can be, yeah” Roxto agrees and Neteyam punches his shoulder playfully, insisting that he had been a damn saint.

“Uhuh. Keep it up. Tsireya will tell me if you so much as whisper one sideways remark. You boys have a good rest of your afternoon” You give Ao’nung a pointed stare, ruffle Roxto’s hair, and pat at Akemi’s shoulder as you depart.

“We’ll continue our conversation later, Y/N!” Akemi warns, your back already turned.

You just wave at him without turning back- happy to have escaped the trauma laden conversation.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You end up crawling into your bed that night, dead tired. You don't even burrow under your bed mat- instead you lie atop the covers. You have splinters under your nails from the hay like palm that was used to construct the pods. The afternoon had been long and boring, just as you’d known it would be.

But the worst part is that you hadn't gotten the chance to see Neteyam. To taste his saccharine kisses. As you stare at your beamed ceiling you think of only him.

When you fall asleep his face is behind your eyelids.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

After days and days of activity that had seemed to keep the two of you apart, you’re ready to snap. Antsy and eager and needy for just a moment of Neteyam’s time.

The Omega doesn’t seek you out- he just gives you those tiny little smiles and private glances across the fires during communal dinner. It drives you mad, your fingers itch to run through his hair. Your lips want to rerun that familiar path down his chest-

You know he has to miss you as much as you miss him…right?

You don't allow those seeds of doubt to plant. Instead, your brain, desperate for the chemical rush that came with being around Neteyam, begins to plot on how you’d get to see him next.

As you go through the motions of your day, there’s only one thing on your mind and that is the fact that you need to see the Omega.

You have to ask around to figure out where the eldest Sully sibling is- he’s helping out in the orchards. His expertise tree climbing skills of great use.

Hidden in the shadows of the tropical trees, you wait. Lurking like a predator. You feel like a puluakan stalking her prey as you watch Neteyam from a far. He’s helpful and polite, his usual quiet self as he works with the other Metkayina to harvest the ripe fruits and vegetables.

While everyone else starts to head back- he stays. Neteyam insists that can get the ones from the tallest trees on his own. He’s happy to be useful.

Perfect.

You’re a hunter, tried and true. The only place in life where you could hone in on your thin patience, be quiet. Take your time. You move quick and silent, closer to your target. Your heart flutters fast, visibly beating in your throat and your kuru tingling with excitement.

When he’s nearly within arm's reach, right there, you’re prepared to pounce-

-Of course, he pounces first.

A brutal flash of clashing blue as the two of you collide.

It takes all of your strength, years of training, but somehow it ends up with him pinned to the thick base of the Yovo tree. Panting and staring down at you with wide tawny eyes. The corner of his mouth pulled up into a smirk.

“Hi” Though you’re a little breathless from the scuffle, you grin.

One of your hands on his shoulder, fingers digging into the hard muscle there. The other pressed against his waist. So close to him that you can feel his body heat.

“Hi” he’s so beautiful it hurts to look at him for too long. Of course, what most don't know about Neteyam- is that he’s a smart ass “You suck at stalking. I could hear you coming the moment you stepped out of the bush”

“No I don't” You cajole, a bubble of laughter building in your fast expanding chest “We’ve barely spoken in a week, and the first thing you do is be mean to me? It’s almost as if you didn't miss me at all”

“How are you gonna know to correct your form if I don't tell you?” He jests, struggling a little in your grip for good measure.

You give him a warning hiss.

This little game the two of you liked to play was usually fun, the push and pull of it all. A teasing filled hunter and prey routine that more often than not ended with Neteyam spreading his thighs as he finally let you have him.

You hadn't kissed your boy in days. You didn't have it in you to wait.

“I was hoping you’d want to tell me something other than how shit you think I am at hunting” you sigh, deep, for dramatic effect.

“What kind of other things?” Neteyam’s eyes keep flickering from your own, down to your mouth. His pink tongue peeks out, runs across the plush of his bottom lip and your knees feel a little weak.

“Things like you’ve missed me” you disclose, because you just can't help it. “Cause I’ve missed you”

You can feel him loosen under your hands, the fight draining. His ears twitch, lowering a bit, and his gaze goes unbearably tender.

“I’ve missed you” he confirms after a moment and it's all you need to hear.

You lunge, groaning the moment you're able to feel his kiss. It’s warm and wet. Full of little nips licks that drive you wild because they feel way too good. An all consuming kind of good- you feel him in your bones. When you release him, your grip on his shoulder falters, his arms wrap around you strong and tight.

You pull away, lips tingling and shiny “How much did you miss me?”

He groans and presses his lips back to yours, annoyed as you keep the kiss shallow. Pecks and light presses while he tries to force his tongue into your mouth. You herd even closer, caging him against the bark. His snuffles, cool air through his snout in annoyance “Y/N, come on”

Instead of responding, your hands begin to drift, fingers dragging across his indigo skin as they take their feel. Oh, this body. How you adored it. His strong shoulders and broad torso, all of that rippling muscle so sensitive and clenching under your touch. Your lips leave his, kissing sloppily across his cheek and down the hinge of his jaw. Stopping only when you can press your face into the place on his neck, right behind his ear, where his scent gland was pumping out that hypnotic musk.

Neteyam’s pheromones are like nothing you’ve ever encountered. They’re knock you on your ass strong, for one. You’d been able to smell him from across the beach the first time you’d met him-back when the Sully’s had descended from the sky. For two they’re foreign and unlike anything you’d previously encountered.

He smells of pine, herby and sharp. Of honeyed tree sap. Of fruit you’ve never learned the name of and the dew that stuck to the foliage in the mornings. It tingles in your nose as you inhale deeply, getting greedy lungfuls of his essence. Very much the scent of a virile young Omega in his prime.

Neteyam gets all shivery when you scent him like this. His head lulls to the side as he presents his entire smooth neck to you like a fucking prize.

It’s heady, the way he gives himself to you. How are you not supposed to be in love with him?

“Missed you so much” he whimpers as you lap at the gland “You’ve been so busy. I- ah, oh-” his speech is broken up. Overwhelmed by your mouth assaulting him and your dainty hand attempting to slip under his tweng “I didn't want to bother you”

You don't pull away when you speak, can't manage to tear your mouth from its ministrations. Instead, your words vibrate right into his skin “Please bother me, paskalin(sweet berry). Bother me all the time”

His laughter is as sweet as his scent, and you want to bathe in it.

Neteyam is an indulgence and you're gluttonous for him.

Screw your duties, whatever was waiting for you back at the village could do just that. Wait. It’s a bit scary how quickly you’re willing to put everything on the back burner if it meant you could spend just one sun drenched afternoon with him.

He looks good, in the shade of the palms. His eyes closed and cheeks flushed as the two of you ravage each other. Your hips knocking into one and other as you desperately rub against him through the layers of your clothing.

You’re completely wrapped up in him. You don't realize how much time you’ve spent just kissing him. You know that you’re needed for just about a billion different things but as you taste his spit you can't remember to care.

When you begin tugging at the cords of his tweng he sobers a bit, squirming. “What if someone sees, the gathering group might return”

“Fuck them” you mindlessly mutter, working at the blasted knots. You want his cock. You need to taste him on your tongue.

Neteyam huffs in amusement, reaching down to undo them for you. He always makes it look so easy with those long nimble fingers.

When he’s freed from his confines, your quick hands are all over him. Pawing at his bare inner thighs, groaning when your fingertips run along his dripping slit. You can already feel his manhood, rock hard, and poking out from the protective sheath of his body.

Neteyam is gorgeous and so, so sensitive. He’s throwing his head back, braids grinding against the bark as you play with him. Getting him all wet and messy between his strong thighs.

“Oh shit- shit, Y/N” he wheezes as you grasp his member in your hand, stroking him until he’s standing proud and fully erect.

Neteyam’s very much well endowed. He’s got girth yes, but Eywa he’s long. You wonder what it would be like to take him inside of you. You’re so sure that he would hit places that no other had before. You clench around nothing, can feel your knot internally swell, just dying to contract around him and milk him dry.

You can't, sadly. Not yet. Or you’d lay him down and sit right on his cock this very moment.

Instead you give him everything else. He’s moaning low in his throat as he squirms, and his hands disappear in your hair. Your eyes fight the urge to roll when his fingernails skritch at your scalp just right.

You're sinking then, down onto your knees. You want to taste him and your eager mouth envelopes his mushroom cock head at once. His earthy sweet taste explodes across your tastebuds and you don't know who moans louder, you or Neteyam.

You enjoy giving oral pleasure, you always had. It makes you feel powerful. You control Neteyam as you suckle on his manhood. When your hands come to play, inching down towards his hole he grunts and bucks hard. Your throat constricts around him with a gag.

Its so sexy. The way he chases his release makes you burn.

His virgin hole is tight, the muscles tense as you circle it with your fingers. The sounds Neteyam gurgles above you make it clear that he doesn't want you to stop. It’s a beyond snug fit as you push a single digit in.

The darker man practically sings. His abdominals clench and you’re pretty sure he’s about to blow-

When suddenly his hands fisting your locks go from holding you close, to pushing you away. You’re only haughtily confused for a moment.

The two of you freeze.

Sensitive ears twitching as the sound of crunching footsteps in the distance.

The orchard is large and full of fruit trees and bushes, making an escape without getting caught is easy enough. You slip behind an enormous berry bush, hidden easily by the thorned shrubbery. You’re vibrating with the thrill though, as you and Neteyam avoid being spotted. Just barely.

You don't think you would have minded if anyone would have caught you on your knees pleasuring your beautiful Omega.

Neteyam on the other hand doesn't look as happy as you. He actually seems kind of spooked. Crouching low and alert as the voices hum in the distance he re-ties his tweng with shaky hands. He doesn't relax until they pass and even then his shoulders stay tense.

“It’s okay, I never get caught, don't worry” You press a comforting hand to his side, and he sighs. Leaning into your touch despite himself.

You can tell the moment of passion is over and you hate it, although it probably is for the best.

“I have to go” you’re mournful of the fact” I’m sure they’re looking for me, back at the village”

His face falls, a little frown that’s cuter than it should be marring his features “Okay…”

You cup his cheek on your palm, making him look at you “We’ll get to be together soon, yes? I’m going out of my mind, I need make you come again”

Neteyam bites the inside of his lip hard “Soon” he agrees.

It takes everything for you to leave him in the orchard and not drag him straight to your bed.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

There are more moments like these as the weeks go on.

Stolen flashes of intimacy.

The two of you sneaking in kisses and groping touches wherever you can. It's always white hot, and over way too soon and somehow you feel even more desperate and strung out after them. Like you’re only getting a taste of what you so desperately want to savor.

You think you’re handling it pretty well. Hiding your split attention-

It all comes to a head at dinner.

The Inknimaya celebrations are only days away and the largest Mauri, the communal one right in the center of the village is packed to the brim with buzzing Na’vi.

You’re sat with your family and a group of high standing village leaders at the head of the meal. Tsireya on one side of you and your very pregnant mother on the other. Your Father sits, right in the middle, and Ao’nung to his side.

There is discussion of the rites and who will be present to officiate them and witness them.

You’re barely listening, so exhausted it’s hard to keep your eyes open. You could blame it on your busy day but really, it's because you and Neteyam had spent last night tangled in each other until the early hours of the morning eclipse.

You meet his gaze from across the crowded room.

Neteyam looks as tired as you feel. And still, he grins. A barely there thing just for you. When his hands move it’s subtle movements while no ones paying attention.

He signs, just the way you’d taught him. Only one word.

Tonight.

“Y/N- are you listening?” It’s your mothers voice, firm and cutting and breaking you from your own head.

“Of course” its an automatic lie as you pick at a piece of fish from your plate. You hadnt heard a thing she’d said.

She gives you THE look. A severe one that could make children cry. Good thing you aren't a child anymore.

You try not to feel too embarrassed by her obvious chiding as you rejoin the conversation.

“We were speaking about the First Hunt- there’s been many Nomura(giant man o war style jellyfish) just beyond the reef. Y/N, what is your stance on this matter?” An elder says, voice weary and weathered.

“This is not out of the norm for this time of year. All will be fine, we can set up a perimeter around the young hunters performing their rites” you nod, affirming him while not feeding into the hysteria. Elder Makiao was an anxious man after all.

“Are we sure that’s smart?” The cutting comment is made by the person you like the least.

Vaeyu is an Alpha and vetted warrior from a good family. He has high standing in the clan, and sits on your fathers council. Tall and broad, with dark ink splashed across his angular face and his meaty right arm almost blacked out with intricate tiny tribal markings.

He’s always got something to say and you sincerely wish that you could tell him to shut the fuck up.

Politics don't work that way, unfortunately. “Why would it not be smart? It is tradition, we will perform the rites as we always have, will we not?”

He nods, mulling it over, his lips pursed “Of course I would like to see them performed as they should be but we have…different members attempting this cycle. I would hate for any of our new Omiticayan friends to be put at even more of a disadvantage then they already are”

A surge of protective anger rages through you- years ago you might have lunged at him. But you’ve learned better, about controlling your own feelings. And about dealing with scum like Vaeyu.

You try to keep the appearance that you’re unaffected, for you know it will only fuel him if he can tell that he’s bothering you “I’m assuming you’re talking about Neteyam?” and you want to kill him for doing so.

“The eldest of the Forest children, yes” He goes on and really. The disrespect is dripping from his tone like venom. The fact that he hadn't even had the decency to refer to Neteyam by his name makes

“Neteyam is not a child” you speak slowly and control your tone. Not allowing your pheromones to spike with your annoyance “He’d already passed his rites back home, and is only repeating the process here out of respect”

Your father, ever observant, can see right through your attempt on staying civil and cuts through the tension with his deep timbre “She is right, he has shown nothing but competence since arriving. And from what I have seen, has excelled in training. I trust my daughter's abilities as a karyu. The boy will be given his chance as all others are”

Tonowari is cheif; he’d always given his people the freedom to question him. The openness to have meaningful conversation.

But everyone knew that directly challenging him is off limits.

“Ah. I see” Vaeyu deducts, using his sharp bladed knife to peel the skin of a fruit “Of course, Olo’eyktan. I trust your judgment. We will just have to hope he can keep up; you know the smell of blood draws those nasty creatures in”

The talks stray onto different topics and you try to get over the bitter taste left in your mouth.

You never want Vaeyu to speak of Neteyam again. If it was up to you the older warrior wouldn't even be able to look in his direction. Neteyam was too good for the likes of him.x

You’re more than happy when the man gets up and makes his leave, retreating for the night with his pregnant mate. Once upon a time the sight of his hand on her lower back and her cradling her stomach would hurt you. Now you’re just relieved as you watch them leave.

Your sister gives you a sympathetic pat on the hand.

The dinner on your plate is picked at, you can barely eat with the excitement of seeing Neteyam again bubbling. Tonight is going to be special. You’re going to give him the necklace you’ve been working on. He liked to act bashful, but you knew he loved your gifts and this one was the most important yet.

You offer Ao’nung the rest of your food, not wanting to waste, and try to make your exit.

“You have been very far away as of late”

Of course it can never be that easy.

Your mother is Tsahik for a reason. She is all knowing, with her keen eye and sharp senses, the tribe likes to say she has special Eywa given powers and you believe it. You just absolutely hate when she uses them on you.

Of course she’d notice you being off, even when you we’re trying so hard to keep it hidden.

“I am not sure I know what you mean” you feign innocence “I have been tired, and very busy, yes”

“No” she continues in that tone of hers. Her eyes that are more green than blue boring into you “That is not it. You have been distracted, and if you do not wish to tell me I will not pry, but I need you to recenter”

“Sanok-” you start with a grumble.

“During the festivities, there will be Metkayina from neighboring islands coming in. I want you to think about what we’ve spoken of, about you finding a mate this cycle”

Your ears pin to your head and you can feel your face get hot. No, she’d spoken and when you’d try to insist that you are not going to go through with an arranged marriage she’d dismissed you.

“I am not interested-”

“In performing your duty? You will be Olo’eykte, you will pass the title down to your children. You need heirs, Y/N. By the time I was your age I was already pregnant with Tsireya” Ronal softens, she can tell how uncomfortable you are but this conversation is vital “I want to give you the space to choose. There will be many eligible Na’vi, all looking to court”

You’re tense all over. By the ways she’s speaking you’d think you were an old woman and not one who had just celebrated her twenty first name day.

“Tell me that you’ll at least think about it- Tonowari, please. Help me here. This is important is it not” Your mother plays dirty and calls your father in for backup.

There is not much on Eywa’Eveng that you could deny your father. You are dedicated to him. Closer to him than anyone else.

When he speaks its gentle and encouraging “We just want you to be happy. You are at the age where you should be starting your own family, I want to meet my grandchildren”

You feel trapped, impossibly so.

Mating had been the one thing that you’d refused to surrender to your chosen destiny. Being the next Olo’ekyte could have everything else but you so deeply wanted to find someone who loved you.

You want to tell them that you think you’ve already found a mate. You’re sure your mom wouldn't like it, wouldn't think Neteyam is suitable but your father would support you. You just know it.

It’s not the time.

Instead you just not tersly “I will consider it. Am I free to go?”

��My daughter…” Tonowari frowns, wanting to reach, but keeping his hands at his side anyway.

“Please. I am tired”

Your father just nods. You dont stay around to hear the worried words your family shares.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The moons are high in the dark, star speckled night sky as you lounge in soft grass. You’d never spent much time here, in the little island forest, before Neteyam and yet now it’s become your oasis.

The hidden spot where you could come and release everything. Your fear and doubts are harbored by the trees. They’re good secret keepers.

“You’re distracted tonight” Neteyam remarks as he meets you in the meadow. It always takes him a little longer to get there, he has to wait for his family to fall asleep before he takes his leave.

“Sorry”

You try to put on a brave face, but when he lies down next to you, both of you on your sides facing on another, and places a large, callused hand on your hip you melt.

He doesn't have to say much to make you soft for him, he’s spent months tenderizing your heart.

“Talk to me” Neteyam urges softly as his thumbs rub patterns into your hip bone. “What happened?”

You close your eyes for a moment, overwhelmed by the comfort. “I’m just tired, Tey. I feel like- I can never really satisfy anyone, you know? And I try really hard to.”

He hums in understanding “I do know what that is like. Is this about your parents?”

Your silence is the only answer he needs. You, after all, are rarely ever silent.

“Back home I was going to be Olo’eyktan and while I accepted it, I was always kind of dreading it. Counting down the days until any semblance of my life being my own was over” you don't know it, but he’d never told anyone this. You listen raptly “The responsibility of making sure everyones taken care of, its alot”

You smile, because yeah. Alot is an understatement.

“I’m just letting you know that I know how it feels. Truly. And whenever you need to; we can talk about it, one eldest sibling to another” Neteyam’s kind words go straight to your head. They make you feel dizzy, so cared for and adored.

He’s what you’ve always wanted. All of your fantasies and desires rolled into one. You’re convinced that Eywa had brought him to you. Carried him to you by ikran back on the strong east wind.

You want to mate with him. More than anything, you want to bond him. Would it scare him off if you told him so? You don't want to lose what hasn't even had it’s chance to fully develop.

“I made you something” Your words seem to shock him, if only for a minute, and he groans and rolls his eyes.

“Another gift? Really, Y/N?”

“Don't pretend you don't love them” you tease as you reach for the small satchel you’d brought with you. You grab at its contents and hold it tight in your hand. You’re nervous, terribly so, as you present the jewelry to Neteyam.

This isn't like the spear, or the blanket or the fruit. For Metkayina, this is serious business.

“Oh” he says as you hand over the necklace that you’d spend countless hours working on. “It’s is gorgeous, wow”

He takes it from you and marvles at the care you’d put into it. The necklace is made of leather, and adorned with pieces of carefully polished dark blue seashells. In the center dangles a single pearl, black as night and rare. You’d shucked an endless amount of clams to find one that felt right.

“Do you accept it?” you question as his eyes trace the piece of jewelry.

“Well, I have not rejected any of your gifts yet” Neteyam jokes dryly “I’m not about to start now.”

He doesn't know then. That if he accepts it then he will be accepting your hand. That he will be agreeing to be your mate. In Metkayina tradition, he’d give you a necklace back, one that would sit right where his bite would on your delicate neck.

He requests that you help him put it on but you decline.

This isn't something to adorn tonight, if he still wanted to wear it in the cold light of day you’d be happy to help him fasten it. Once he puts it on, he can never take it off. You’re sure he isn't aware of the fact and you wont trick him- but also don't have the energy to tell him in that very moment.

“Well I can't wear it because your being weird” Neteyam starts, brows knitted “But I still wanna thank you for it”

“Thank me, huh?” you smile as you reach to pet at his braids. Sweet, sweet man.

“Mhmm” Is all Neteyam says as his hand travels from its place on your hip, down, To play with the hem of your pink skirt. It's very clear what he wants, so you roll over onto your back and spread your legs, making it easier for him to get it.

He works you out of your coverings with ease.

Your needy pussy is sticky- strings of wetness stretch between it and your tweng as Neteyam peels it off. He groans at the heady sight. His nostrils flare and his mouth waters.

“You talk so much about how good I taste” Neteyam grumbles into your skin as he presses deep kisses into the skin of your belly, sinking ever lower. Over your naval. He traces the pretty swirling ink of your tattoos, the ones that cradle your hips and lead him right where he wants most.

He mouths at that tender crease between thigh and labia “But your cunt is Eywa sent, I swear. So sweet”

You're panting, chest concaving intensely as his face disappears between your thick thighs. You feel no shame at him staring at where you’re drenched and throbbing for him. If anything you spread wider, showing him the pretty blushing insides of your light blue gash.

Neteyam dives in, nose first. His snout rubbing at your lips, inhaling your essence eagerly. You can't help but smile, happy that he loves the way you smell. That it’s reciprocated. Two of you so compatible.

When his wide tongue laps over your puffy slit, catching on your swollen nub you cry out. Your hands fly to the back of Neteyam’s head, holding onto the braids for support. Tugging ever so slightly, just on the right side of painful. You hump at his face, shoving him closer.

Neteyam’s a messy pussy eater, he dedicates his whole being to getting you off. He uses his entire face; his mouth but also his nose and his chin and cheeks. Soon enough hes completely messy, covered in your slick as he sloppily feasts on you.

“Oh, Great Mother!” you wail when he sits up a bit, hooking your thighs over his broad shoulders, before digging back in. He’s everywhere, there's not one part of your sensitive core that he’s not licked against. “Neteyam!”

When you come for the first time, it's with a violent arch of your back and a squeal. The pleasure makes you seize and shake as it washes over you in a tidal wave. Neteyam rides it out, his mouth following your arching pussy- drawing your orgasm out beautifully.

As you start to come back down, his chin is pillowed on your inner thigh and he's looking up at you with pleased amber eyes. So shy and proud of himself for being able to get you off. His face is sticky and gleaming with your cum. You never want to forget this image of him, you want to engrave this memory somewhere deep and timeless. You think that you will need to visit the Spirit Tree soon.

“Felt good?” he verifies and you grin, nodding, still coming down.

“So good, I love it when you tongue fuck me” you sigh, still spread out for him. Your pussy aches- from over sensitivity. From the need to be touched again.

Neteyam just blushes a little at your vulgar words, sometimes you forget that he’s still very new to all of this. Each time you guys are intimate, he explores a bit more of his sexuality.

He holds your gaze as his fingers begin to toy with your folds. There’s something so erotic about it all, the way that the two of you never break eye contact. Communicating silently as Neteyam rubs at your hard clit. Sharp jolts of pleasure make your hips twitch. But still, you try to be still. Encouraging his tentative touches. When his digit swirls around your hole for a moment before sinking deep your eyes roll until they close and your head presses back into the ground.

You’re meant to be filled, your body designed to squeeze around whatever enters it and not let go. It doesnt care if its a cock or fingers or tongue, your pussy is greedy.

Neteyam bites his bottom lip bloody as he watches your core hungrily eat his fingers. First one, and then two, and then before long he's pumping all there in and out of your wet snatch. A part of him wants to tuck his thumb against his palm and shove his entire fist inside-

He’s rock hard in his tweng, undulating against the ground as he watches your hips chase his hand.

“Knot my fingers” he begs over your pathetic sobs “Please, I wanna feel it.”

It’s too much.

His eager words paired with the constant perfect rhythm in which he’s pumping his digits in and out of you. It’s not hard to grant his request. You cry out as you come, again. This time, you don't stop your body from doing what it instinctually needs to. You reach down between your legs to grab his wrist, firmly pressing his hand to your pulsating pussy. If he wants to feel, you’ll let him. Your knot swells inside of you, impossibly tight, as it locks around Neteyams long fingers.

His wide eyes stare up at you in unfiltered awe as he feels you from the inside. It’s wondrous, like nothing he’s ever experienced. He feels very special in that moment, that he gets to share this with you. Very special and very fucking horny.

“Holy shit” is his clumsy, blunt response to it all. You giggle fondly and shake your head.

“Do you like it?” You inquire as you rhythmically pulse.

He groans and presses his head, his entire face into the safe plush flesh of your thigh “I do” he admits “I want to feel it around my dick so bad”

That starts a whole new round of neediness and the two of you go at it like animals under the bright moonlight, surrounded by fluorescent flora and fauna.

You’d sworn that you’d be smarter- wouldn't stay out as late so that you could go through the upcoming day a little less exhausted but by the time the two of you are done, the sky is painted pinks and purples and the morning eclipse is dawning.

You’re lying with your head pressed to his chest and your leg thrown across his both of his. You know you should get up but you don't want to make the long trek back to the village. You whine about the decided meeting spot as the two of you sit up, knowing that you need to get ready to return.

“Why do we have to go sneaking around in the bush? I do have my own Mauri, you know” you’d sassed him, as you look for your top in the grass.

“And what if someone catches me coming in and out of your place? Yeah, no. I don’t think that is a good idea”Neteyam had protested, flustered at even the thoughts . It would be so obvious.

A frown tugs at your lips at his words. “Would that be so bad?”

There's a pregnant pause before he speaks again “I mean…I thought we had agreed to keep this private. If people start seeing me sneaking in and out of your home at all odd hours it’s not going to be hard for them to put together what’s going on”

Your heart drops a bit at that, and you feel more naked than you had moments before. “What are you…ashamed of what we’re doing?”

“I’m not ashamed…I just don't want that label, Y/N” Neteyam sighs like you’re being unreasonable and it’s like ice water in your veins. “I don't want people to look at me differently because of this”

It's hard to speak around the lump in your throat “Because of what? Me courting you? Why would that cause anyone to feel differently about you?”

“It's just, it’s different for you. There are different expectations in place. You’ve done this before.-”

“As you love to remind me” the laugh that escapes you is humorless as you locate your top and slip it back on. You already feel vulnerable, there's no need to psychically be so too. “ I’ve never once held it against you or made you feel bad about being a virgin, but you constantly throw the fact that I've been with other people in my face.”

“That’s not it-” Neteyam insists as you stand, he tries to reach for you but you side step in and grab your tweng instead. He looks so lost, like he’s trying to untie the knots in his head. You know that Neteyam has a hard time transmuting his thoughts into words and usually you’re patient with him but right now? Right now you’re too hurt to wait for him to find the words to insult you with. “I dont- I dont care if you’ve been with a ton of other people, It doesn't matter to me. That’s not why I feel uncomfortable with the village knowing”

“The mere fact that you’re so eager to call it a ton tells me that it does” you're wrapping the ties of your covering around your tail and ignoring your shaking hands as emotion bubbles up violently “I’ve only ever been intimate with three people, including yourself. Did you know that, Neteyam? I’m not the huge whore that you think me to be”

Neteyam looks down at the ground shamefully. He hasn't even reached for his own tweng yet. It’s like he’s stuck, his head going a mile a minute. Too fast for his body to catch up with.

“When I told you I wanted to court you I wasn't lying. I’m not sure what that means to you, or the people back in the forest, but here it means that I see you as a potential mate. I didn't realize that you’re too embarrassed of me to see me as the same” you’re going to start crying, you can feel it.

This moment had already happened to you, years before. You’d already been rejected by someone you thought wanted you- you never thought you’d allow yourself to happen again.

Eywa, how fucking stupid can you be?

The familiar feeling is devastating. You feel soiled and used.

“If you can just be reasonable- If we can-can talk. I don't know how to make you understand that this isn't all about you” Neteyam is stuttering, finally reaching for his own tweng but you’re checked out.

How does one be reasonable when their heart is breaking?

“It’s fine. There’s nothing to talk about. I’m sorry that I misread this whole thing. My mistake.”

You’re off before he can get another word in, storming through the foliage as fast as your feet can take you. The tears that had been building only fall once you’re out of eye sight.

You can hear him calling for you, pleading for you to come back.

You leave him there, half naked in the woods.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The Iknimaya ceremony comes all too fast.

The days since you and Neteyam’s fight in the forest had all been a blur. You were too busy to focus on your fractured feelings. No one had even truly known about the two of you, so it’s as if life moves on as though it had never even happened.

That might be what’s most painful about it all.

You have duties to fulfill, and you’d like to pretend like they keep you from focusing in on that pain. You help where you’re needed- and even where you’re not. It’s left you drained and bone tired, but distracted enough to maintain.

As you and your sister get ready for the long day, she notices how sluggish you are. Dragging yourself through the motions.

“When was the last time you slept?” Tsireya asks as she watches you dress.

“I’ve been busy as of late, Reya” You take care as you ready yourself. Donning traditional Metkayinan ceremonial drab- your blood-orange tweng is intricate and the shell headpiece you wear connects with your barely there top. You brush your long midnight hair until it’s glossy and bouncing, the ends of it reaching the base of your tail as it falls down your back in waves.

You’d always had a healthy dose of vanity.

You know that you are attractive, pretty. Shockingly so, as you’d been told. Blessed with thick eyelashes and feminine features. Your whole life,many have spoken about how favored an Omega, to which you’d never taken offense. You’d inherited your mothers looks, as had Tsireya. Small. Compact. Unexpectedly vicious.

You use your looks as a weapon, just as everything else, your little sister is well aware of the fact. She knows that you’re overcompensating with appearing attractive for the fact that something has happened.

“I’m worried about you. You can try to fool everyone else, but you’re not fooling me, sister. I know that somethings wrong” Tsireya is sweet, but firm. She’d always had that air around her.

Caring yet severe. She was all Alpha no matter what people might think about her docile temperament.

“It’s not like speaking about it would change anything” you mutter, if anything, it would bring the pain front and center.

“Don’t be a coward, Ma Y/N. You know better than anyone that the only way over something is through it” Tsireya’s blunt, but without an ounce of malice.

She knows how to handle you and knows that tough love is oftentimes better than coddling like comfort when it comes to you.

It works.

“Neteyam rejected my courtship”

“You lie” she accuses in a gasp, and you just glare at her. “But- he’s so interested in you”

“Obviously not” it’s flippant. You don’t even want to meet her eyes. You’d been under that impression too.

“Something is being lost in translation here, sister. Neteyam likes you. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. I can feel it everytime the two of you are around each other” your sister insists and it’s like salt in the wound.

“Sometimes things aren’t what they seem. It’s not as though this is the first time I’ve been wrong about someone’s intentions for me” the words are hard to admit and taste like acid in your mouth.

“Neteyam couldn’t be any more different than Vaeyu. The two might as well be night and day- this situation can’t be the same” Tsireya insists and you bite your tongue.

“No they’re not the same. But their feelings, or lack there of, are”

Vaeyu had never been particularly kind to you but there had been a time when you naively believed that he truly cared about you.

Before your Iknimaya, which should’ve been the first warning sign, the older warrior had courted you.

He, like Neteyam, had wanted to keep it a secret.

Vaeyu took your virginity before telling you that as an Alpha himself, he would never mate with another Alpha.

You were too much for him. Not at all a suitable mate. He’d be embarrassed to be with you…

The scene that had played itself out just nights before in the forest with Neteyam had been all too familiar.

“Just once” you start, voice shaky as you focus on holding back all the hurt you've felt “I’d like to be wanted back. Truly. By someone who sees me as I see them”

“Oh, Y/N” Tsireya breathes as she grabs your hands and holds them tightly.

You don’t have the time to weep, but it feels nice, standing in your Mauri with your sister for that fleeting moment.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The Metkayinan Iknimaya is a difficult and dangerous task to achieve.

The Akula hunt is fierce. An entire team of warriors working to bring down the wild beast. Many had died in their efforts. The massive sharks are armored with very few weak spots. They’re extremely difficult to kill.

Today would be no different. There would assuredly be some injuries- you give a brief prayer to the great mother for no casualties.

The to-be warriors line up on the shore and your mother, Tsahik Ronal, passes each. Chanting over them, and drawing a line across their face- from temple, over the bridge of their noses- to other temple, with white paint.

May the Great Mother take you into her arms. The Sea is your home before your birth, and if you should die, you will return to it in the afterlife.

You try to keep from staring at Neteyam, who’s tall and fierce and armed with the spear you’d given him.

The two of you only meet eyes briefly as he mounts his Tsurak. Right before he sets out. There’s so much unsaid and there’s no time to say it.

Instead you give him a firm nod.

You’d trained him. Had seen him in action. He could do this. You have full faith in him.

He only nods back.

The hunt makes you jittery, lights your blood on fire. You love this. Watching hunters draw first blood and make a clean kill. A primal part of you is dying to get in there. To join the fight.

It all happens in a rush- one minute the warriors are out on Tsurak back, headed for the deep. It’s harder to see where what’s going on as you stand with the crowd on the beach but you know from experience the energy filled pursuit that is going on right under the surface.

This year- it’s quick.

So much quicker than the years prior.

The crowd murmurs, almost confused, as the hunters return to the beach in record time.

They are no longer children.

Behind them, they haul the large carcass of a fully grown male Akula. Ropes secured around the body, netting and the waves helping transport with the sheer bulk of the creature. Sticking out of his left eye, perfectly launched, is the spear that you had crafted for Neteyam.

“Our hunters have returned, as fully blooded men and women of the Metkayina!”

Your father booms in pride, his warm cries whooping along the people as they join in. They’d made it back, all of them, with minimal damage. In record time. With one of the biggest catches you’d ever seen.

There’s hugs and tears. Everyone seems to be embracing one another. The pride is felt village wide and it’s a communal high.

“We will feast tonight!”Varyu cheers, and hoots follow “Tell me, who made the fatal blow? It is as clean a kill as I’ve ever seen”

You already know. You’d known since you’d seen the carvings on the wood- but the newly fledged Hunters push Neteyam forward and confirm it.

Vaeyu’s eyes almost pop out of their sockets. It’s comical to say the least.

Neteyam is humble, as he always is. It was a team effort, he claims.

His family beams at him. Jake whooping and Neytiri’s misty eyed. Lo’ak is grinning from ear to ear and Kiri and Tuk clap and cheer for their brother.You remember Lo’ak telling you about how his older brother had been the youngest in their village to ever make a clean kill. You’d been impressed then.

Right now? Right now you are stunned. So proud that you can barely speak. All of those training sessions where Neteyam had doubted his ability to adapt had paid off.

He’s a warrior, as he’s meant to be. Neteyam has reclaimed his place in the world.

Your father goes to Neteyam and places his hands on his shoulders. Beaming. “You have done well and proved yourself amongst are people. I am proud to call you Metkayina”

You want to cry. You’ve never felt such emotion. You know how much this means to Neteyam and all you want to do is go over to him and embrace him.

“As the hunter who solidified the kill, you have first choice during Fertility Season. Tell me, son. Is there anyone who you want to lay claim to?” Your father speaks of the tradition. If the kill can be traced back to a single warrior- they earn the honor of having their pick of mates.

It’s ancient, dated, and most decline. You’re expecting Neteyam to do the same.

Instead, he focuses on you.

It doesn’t feel real. This must be a dream. The docile introverted Omega you’d gotten to know would never lay a claim on you, so boldly. In public. To your father much less.

And yet, he does.

“Ma Y/N” Neteyam calls to you clear and true. He’s chosen these words carefully; they don’t stick to the roof of his mouth “I am yours if you’ll still have me.”

Only then do you notice that the black pearl necklace that you had strung together for him hangs around his throat.

A clear symbol of his acceptance of your courtship.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

I’m so sorry to end it there on that cliffhanger but guyssssss. We all know she says yes. She’s down so bad for him lmfao

To my omegaverse besties @tru-blubelle @imperihoe @tiredmamaissy and Cinetrix thanks for all of the inspiration and support!

Omega Neteyam is my fucking religion now. I swear. I’m never getting over how perfect he is. Ughhhh. Sweetest bby boi who deserves the actual world. I love writing the juxtaposition of someone who is so incredibly physically attractive- and yet so socially awkward. He really doesn’t know how gorgeous he is. People expect him to be more suave because of his chiseled features and he’s really just an introverted guy who hates being the center of attention.

Okay so lots to talk about here! I introduced some OC’s! I feel like whenever I get to read about a Na’vi OC I’m like instantly in deep because it’s such an interesting culture and they’re such an interesting people!

I adore Akemi. He’s just an all around good guy who stepped up to the plate and took Roxto in when he had no one. Akemi’s husband is also a fun colorful character and I can’t wait to introduce him to you guys in the next chapter!

Vaeyu fucking sucks lmfao I wanted to write a smarmy Na’vi for the realism of it all. He’s everything bad about Alphas. He totally groomed the reader, if that wasn’t clear enough in the story. Tonowari would have him banished if he knew about it because he’s a protective dad and also a good man who hates creeps.

If you need a visual guide to how I picture Na’vi Male Omega’s genitalia you can find that here!

And if you have any questions about my A/B/O Head Cannons or the way that I’m structuring secondary gender in this story, please don’t hesitate to ask.

Neteyam goes into heat next chapter(I had to split this one into two because it was at 18K words long) so get ready for some wild ass smut😂

Please remember that interaction is key when it comes to fanfiction! I'd love to talk to you guys! Let’s escape to Pandora together!

My Taglist for this story is currently OPEN, but full disclosure that if I take the time to give you a tag, I am going to be expecting some sort of feedback.

@thehoneymushroomhealer @persy-the-nugget @tallulah477 @sakurayuki8655-blog @cumikering @adaiasafira @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @akkibear @a-blog-name-2023 @weasleytwinwheezes @siimiasoi @blueslxt-primary @haji-me-mashite @mightyneteyam @kiri-tuk

#neteyam smut #aged up neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam x reader smut #omega neteyam #omega neteyam x female alpha reader #minors do not interact

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johnnyraine · 2 years

Text

My Crazy Roommates (Smut!)

Suguru Niragi (Alice in Borderland) x Male Reader x Xue Yang (The Untamed)

Words: 2273

3rd of September, 2022

XXX

The day starts as it does most days, you wake up, do your morning routine, eat breakfast, and go to work.

Later on, you return home, throwing your shoes off, not caring enough to pick them up, and making yourself comfortable, eating snacks, and watching whatever you want.

…That is until a bright flash blinds you.

“Ah!” You exclaim.

Once the light is gone, you try to blink your blurry vision away. Succeeding, you see…

NIRAGI AND XUE YANG!

You sharply inhale before trying to escape, your breathing erratic.

Fortunately, they are still blinded by the light.

Unfortunately, you trip and fall. A glance back shows your discarded shoes. Refocusing on the situation, you try to scramble to your feet, but are kicked, landing on your back. You grunt as a foot lands on your chest. Following it up, you see its, admittedly attractive, owner, Suguru Niragi.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You stumble over your words, unable to get any coherent words out, pissing him off.

“Answer me!” He stomps on your chest.

Fight or flight kicks in and you grasp his leg, but he is kicked off of you, stumbling into the wall.

Xue Yang purses him, not letting a moment pass as Niragi does his best to defend himself.

You miss the snarky comments Xue Yang fires off as your heartbeat fills your ears.

Using this moment to escape, you soon find yourself at your friend’s house, who calls the police for you. But, not even a minute after, your neighbor calls you, telling you that they called the police because of what sounded like “fighting,” and that the two occupants were already in their custody.

For whatever reason, after hanging up, you feel compelled to go to the police station and check on them, much to your and your friend’s bewilderment. But you go and talk to the police, giving them some completely bull story, which later on, you can’t recall how it went, only that you somehow knew what to say.

By the end of it, you say, “They’re my roommates.”

And they let you bail them out.

‘WHY THE FUCK DID I SAY THAT!’ You think, feeling like some higher being must be forcing you, for whatever reason.

By day’s end, Suguru Niragi and Xue Yang, are your “roommates.” Your very dangerous, and attractive, roommates.

~~~

Months passed and... you lived.

Though your life wasn’t great at first. You were the only one doing most of the work: cleaning; cooking: shopping: and having a job. What with your “roommates” threatening you, even if they did lose the weapons, you weren’t having a great time. You had expected worse though, you’ve seen their shows after all, which was another thing.

When they found out that they are, were, fictional characters, you expected them to likely lash out.

So you were surprised when they weren't that shocked or skeptical. But after some thinking, you could see why. Niragi was transported to The Borderland, a place that looks like home but hosts death games which, if you win, allows you to live a few more days until you have to do it again. While Xue Yang came from a wuxia world, where the people fight with magical martial arts, that can allow you to fly and raise the dead if done right.

Following the first two months of your new living arrangement, the two seem to have “mellowed out” a bit.

Niragi was forced to stop his more… violent tendencies, as he was reminded that, yes, the law does, in fact, exist here. While Xue Yang, “mellowed,” it’s very obvious that he only did so because of modern technology and that he’s gotten craftier to work around it. Not great, but it is an improvement… maybe.

On the topic of your two “roommates,” you didn’t fully know how they felt about each other. What happened after your first meeting is still a bit unknown, but you’re fairly certain that Xue Yang beat Niragi.

With that in mind, you’d thought they would hate each other, at least Niragi would. But that changed somewhere in the second month when you discovered that your bed had the look and smell of an… “we fucked in your bed” situation.

You were pissed.

Unfortunately, that led to you yelling at the two, leading to you losing a week of sleep, too afraid that they’d kill you.

The rest of the month passed and you were somewhat sure that you’d live.

Another month passed and you grew a bit bolder, getting more used to the idea that they weren’t going to do anything.

Two more months and you can now call each other roommates, without the quotations!

You all seem to be pitching-in in your own ways, you still have your job, Xue Yang and Niragi… do things. You don’t really question it, you think they’re likely doing something illegal, but you’d rather not know. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that they pay their share of the bills, so who cares? Now and then, you process this and think about “moving out” because of the possible danger… but it passes.

All seems good, it is good.

…You wake up in the middle of the night, remembering how yesterday, the two continuously glanced at each other like they had a plan.

“I’m gonna fucking die,” You whisper to yourself.

~~~

Come morning, you are on constant edge, even as you watch the two eat their breakfast. Your mind racing with possible situations and possible escapes you’ll have to make. So preoccupied, you don’t even notice that you’re staring.

They do.

“What’s wrong with you?” Niragi asks, even though it sounds somewhat like an insult.

“See something you like, Y/n?” Xue Yang asks, teasing you, though you still feel in danger.

Eyes shifting between the two, you move your chair back, “I forgot I have to work early guys, see ya.”

Xue Yang grips your thigh.

“Relax Y/n,” He says, wearing a saccharine smile.

“Yeah, Y/n,” Niragi says, gripping your other thigh. “You’ll really enjoy this.”

You feel a chill run down your spine as these predators gaze upon their prey.

~~~

“Haa,” You let out a breathy moan, looking down at your roommates. On their knees giving you a blowjob.

Their tongues lick either side of your length. Xue Yang gives it a long lick, going up to take you into his mouth, but Niragi beats him by just going for it.

Being glared at, Niragi doesn’t care his tongue circles the tip, his piercing adding to the pleasure as it glides over your slit. Your hips jerk from his ministrations. Not content with standing by, Xue Yang gives a mischievous grin before gripping Niragi's hair and forcing him to take you to the base.

“Ghlgk!”

Niragi gags but makes no motion to stop him as Xue Yang continues to facefuck him on your cock. You feel his throat convulse around your cock, making your toes curl. A few moments of this passed before Xue Yang yanks him off and dives in, taking his turn.

Catching his breath, Niragi tries to do the same to him but fails as Xue Yang forces him to lick the rest of your cock that he doesn’t take into his mouth.

Feeling you getting close, Xue Yang’s mouth leaves your cock before jerking you off, his tongue hanging out of his open mouth in anticipation. Niragi follows after making an annoyed face at him, his tongue piercing shining.

You grip your chair at the sight before letting out a weak moan and cumming.

Just as your cum lands on his tongue, Niragi grabs Xue Yang’s hair and yanks him away with some landing on his face. Niragi, taking most of your load in his mouth, puts his lips around your tip, getting a small jump from you as he sucks.

Xue Yang is growling when Niragi finally leans back, showing you his mouthful, smirking.

Xue Yang opens his mouth to speak but Niragi silences him with a kiss.

The two’s tongues fight, sucking and rolling over each other. Although you are sure this moment is between the two of them, once they separate, you realize that you’re ready to continue.

You’re unsure if they notice because, after their moment, Xue Yang is laying on the kitchen table as Niragi practically makes their pants and underwear disappear.

“Hey!” Niragi exclaims, getting your attention away from his ass.

“Huh? Y-yeah?”

“Bring it,” He says, pointing to what’s on the counter.

Lube.

You are somewhat ashamed that you hadn’t noticed it before, it was that blatant. Then again, you were worried that you’d die today.

Grabbing it, you hear spitting preceded by grunts and low groans.

Turning around, your assumption is proven correct by the view of Xue Yang's legs up against Niragi, who's hilted inside him.

Cringing as they rut against each other, you let out an exasperated sigh and walk over to Niragi’s back.

The next time Niragi pulls back, you reach around him and grab his cock with your lubed hand, startling him. His head whips to look back at you, his thrusts stilted.

“I know you two like each other, but please take of yourselves.” You chuckle softly, feeling more confident.

“Shut up!” They say in unison.

“Calm down you two, I’m merely teasing.” You kiss Niragi’s kneck, feeling him shiver. “Besides, doesn’t it feel better?”

“Hm, Niragi?” He softly moans an affirmative.

“Hm, A-Yang?” You practically purr, your other hand grabbing his leg.

You feel Xue Yang’s leg flex under your touch.

“Yesss,” He moans.

Niragi, who has been thrusting more into your hand than Xue Yang, grabs your wrist and pushes it away, surprising you.

“I can feel you poking my ass, hurry up.”

Letting go of Xue Yang’s leg, you add more lube to your hand and length before helping Niragi, all while he goes back to fucking Xue Yang.

When you are sure he is ready, you lay a hand on his hope and sink into his hot ass.

"Hsss," He hisses, not stopping his thrusts.

With building thrusts into his slick hole, you feel him push back against you with his own thrusts into Xue Yang. Gently, you grasp his balls while your other hand snakes its way up his shirt, teasing his nipple and fondling him as his legs start shaking.

“F-fuck!” Niragi yells, throwing his head back.

Looking over at Xue Yang, you see him stroking himself as he rocks upon the table.

“Take care of A-Yang, will you Niragi?” You whisper in his ear.

Though he grits his teeth, he does, taking Xue Yang’s cock from his grasp and jerking, hard.

His loud moaning stops you from saying anything.

Focusing on the way Niragi's ass feels around your cock, you lean into him, gently tugging and fondling his balls.

His legs already shaky, Niragi falls on the table, landing on his outstretched hands, barely saving himself, and folding Xue Yang in on himself.

"Hhhmm." Knocking him out of breath as Niragi reaches deeper into him.

Niragi's eyes widen as he discovers this. Smirking, he grabs Xue Yang's legs and pushes them to either side of his head, plowing into him.

Xue Yang was breathless and yet, he was harder than ever. With Niragi's cock stretching him to new lengths, he forgot to pay any attention to his own cock.

Niragi's new pose not only helped him but you as well. His ass stuck out more and gripped onto his hips, slamming into him, pushing him even deeper into Xue Yang.

Falling to his elbows, Niragi grits his teeth as it turns more into you fucking him, making him thrust into Xue Yang.

"Fuck me, Y/n. Harder." He grits out.

Following his command, you grab his shoulders forcing him back into your thrust.

Almost lost in his pleasured daze, Niragi heard Xue Yang whine beneath him and, perhaps out of generosity, he jerks him off.

Toes curling, Xue Yang lets out a strangled moan and cums in Niragi's unstopping hand.

Xue Yang knew he was a babbling mess, only coherent enough to moan and enjoy the pleasure.

Seeing this, you chuckle and decide to end this. Taking a different angle, you slam into Niragi’s prostate.

Once more alert, Niragi endures your harsh thrusts, but before long he feels your hot cum filling him. With that, his cock starts throbbing inside Xue Yang and he cums.

Niragi falls atop Xue Yang, refusing to move, though it doesn’t seem Xue Yang minds. That or he’s just tired.

Just as tired, you lay atop the table, your gaze moving between the two before settling on the ceiling, sort-of zoning out.

“Hey,” Niragi gets your attention. “What are you thinking?”

“Probably about us debauched men, sullying him,” Xue Yang teases.

“I’m just thinking that it’s amazing the table can handle so much weight.” Which you were.

Xue Yang cackles while Niragi pushes you off the table.

On the ground, you think about how your lives are going to change, and it does. Somewhat.

The three of you are in a sort-of relationship, there’s more kissing, touching, and sex, but none of you actually talk about being in a relationship. So life just continues as is, you, your house, and your crazy roommates.

…Oh! Uh… a few months later, you end up in the hospital because of an allergic reaction that Xue Yang claims is revenge, though, from the worried look in his eyes, you’re pretty sure he just didn’t know what you were allergic to.

Oh well, you recover and go about doing your regular routine.

#Male Reader #male reader smut #Suguru Niragi x Male Reader #Niragi x male reader #Xue Yang x Male Reader #Alice in Borderland x Male Reader #The Untamed x Male Reader #AIB x Male Reader

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hxnguxng-jxn · 2 years

Text

𝐖𝐞𝐢 𝐖𝐮𝐱𝐢𝐚𝐧 × 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 × 𝐋𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢

Synopsis ― Being a good Cultivator comes from practice, training, and following through with your discipline. But being a husband, is a whole new type of training. It would be easy to be "a darling husband" (as Wei Ying had put it after getting into trouble), if both of your lovers didn't have such varying tastes. (Fluff)

Info on Reader: Reader is AMAB, Reader's personality is neutral between WWX and LWJ (not too icy but not too hot/not a lightweight but not a heavyweight drinker/calm but not stoic), and Reader is a fellow Cultivator (family not mentioned).

Fujoshis & Fem Readers, do not interact. || Anything with a * is optional based on if you'd/your OC would do that.

WangXian × M!Reader | Post-Canon Shenanigans

Definitely, Wei Ying is the most impulsive of you three, and he's all too determined to show you why. Not because you seemed to have forgotten and he wants to remind you both: he's just going to do it, and you'll relapse. If it includes jumping in to fights first or going in without a basic plan because of what he reads on his opponent, he will.

Definitely, Lan Zhan is the most thoughtful of you three, and you're sure he's smiling inside when Wei Ying admits he needs help. His face barely cracks for much outside of showing you both his honest emotions, but even then he's pleasantly surprised when you seem to read him better without him cracking his facade.

They both know that you're usually caught in the middle of anything that happens between them, and you're pretty sure they adore that aspect of your predicament.

Yes, there was no drinking on the premise of the Cloud Recesses and you're glad that the old dynamics of your party weren't present these days... but being in between them can be either silly or intense when you three are drinking.

* If you're a drinker with them; you're not as lightweight as Lan Zhan (honestly, nobody could), but you're not as immune/heavyweight as Wei Wuxian. Lan Zhan is very open during this, so he might lay on you and mumble sweet-nothings to the air. Wei Wuxian will brush his knuckle across Lan Zhan's cheek and kiss at your neck as he notices you both are losing your senses to Emperor's Smile. He's happy to be the one to watch over you both as you unwind, and he takes a swig in joy as midnight falls.

* If you're not a drinker; Wei Wuxian will take charge in downing drinks to relax and basically drape across your neck, and Lan Zhan takes his miniscule swig to lean against your shoulder. Wei Wuxian is nuzzling into your neck and nipping at your ear, making noises akin to childish chuckles. Lan Zhan is mostly silent except for content hums in his chest, but you can feel his hands gripping your night-clothes like you might get up and leave at any time. But you aren't leaving them, you're going to watch over them and you tell them as such.

You're not going to be able to memorize all of the rules on The Wall, especially since the elders and Lan Xichen are debating new rules every year or two to add. Just your attempts are good enough for Lan Zhan, but he eventually tells you he doesn't care if you can study or memorize them... your efforts weren't in vain, and you do get a (cute) chaste kiss from Lan Zhan in gratitude. If you study harder just to please him, of your own free will (and with promise of a kiss from Lan Zhan, by Wei Wuxian), Wei Wuxian can almost see how Lan Zhan's ears go pink at your dedication.

Definitely, Wei Wuxian does want to relax in his newly wed life but he's also not a stranger to wanting something... different to happen. He's going to train a bit more when he's feeling antsy, and you'll see him probably looking at Apple wistfully. He'll probably confide in you that he had fun while traveling and solving mysteries (he didn't enjoy being hunted down though), but he'll smile happily and hold your waist as he looks out at Gusu. He'll tell you how happy he is, and if he truly wanted to leave, he'd have done so.

... And he'll run amok in about two hours. You and Lan Zhan hearing Apple whine and older students run screaming as the donkey chases them is like any normal-ish Monday. Hopefully, Wei Wuxian can't find where you hid the seeds or the wild birds might join in the rabble-rousing.

* Definitely, bathing is much easier if you all do it at once, and Wei Wuxian is always the last to get in. Wei Wuxian likes to help undress you both, or at least collect everything you'll need. If he gets a lot of hair products and lotions, he just ends up touching you and Lan Zhan all the more... all the better! He just loves taking care of his husbands, and having you both in arms reach!

* But, taking baths together is not necessary and you can have your cleaning done by yourself if you wish. Lan Zhan and Wei Wuxian might not shower alone as husbands, but won't force themselves into your private time. Lan Zhan would silently take your comb in hand to ask if he can style your hair for bed, and Wei Wuxian definitely doesn't lay down on the bed like he should be in a magazine to tempt you into laying next to him. You may not share the bathing part, but they do love pampering you otherwise.

The food at Gusu is very Vegan and Vegetarian friendly, we know that. And Wei Wuxian loathes it (and maybe you do too, but that's up to personal tastes). Cooking isn't hard since the products aren't easy to mess up outside of spilling or burning (rice, potatoes, cabbage, grass tuffs, leeks, etc). But if Wei Wuxian goes anywhere else, or they stay outside the Cloud Recesses for any reason, he's pounding back chicken or pork at first sight of it at dinner. No matter if you do as well or if you hold back on eating meat (or if you just don't eat any), Lan Zhan will smugly take a small piece from Wei Wuxian's bowl and make a comment on the dish. Usually, it's just a simple, "Had better."

That "had better" statement is for your or Wei Wuxian's cooking, and nothing else. He enjoys those more than anything. It's his sentiment and way of encouraging you both he'd eat whatever you make. Well... unless it's raw. He's a bit put out of meat based sashimi, but won't complain too much and just pass the meat onto Wei Wuxian's bowl.

#The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation #MDZS #Mo Dao Zu Shi #The Untamed #Reader Insert #Male Reader #Wei Wuxian #Wei Ying #Lan Wangji #WangXian #WangXian x Reader #WangXian x Male Reader #Wei Wuxian x Reader #Wei Wuxian x Male Reader #Lan Zhan #Lan Zhan x Reader #Lan Zhan x Male Reader

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dystopia-incognito · 6 months

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Male Werewolf x Female Reader

Warning: NSFW (minors DNI) contains sex/dubcon A short spicy story of 1,977 words about a young woman encountering a werewolf.

A little side note: I NEVER write, I'm a nervous wreck for just posting this. That being said.. I wrote this little dabble specifically for a very special person the night before their birthday as a surprise and I might never actually finish it. Do enjoy it for what it is, though! <3

Freedom. In a tranquil corner of the world, nestled by the edge of a serene lake, Y/N found her escape from the bustling village that had kept her busy for far too long. The cool, inviting water lapped gently at her feet as she sat on the grassy shore, her emotions swirling like a symphony. It was the first sensation that washed over her. As her toes touched the water's surface, she felt liberated. Here, away from the ceaseless demands of her family and the never-ending chores of the village, she could finally breathe. By this quiet lake, she could be herself, unburdened by obligations. She smiled and hiked up her modest dress a little higher to not get it wet, the lush grass beneath her bare legs seemed to embrace her like a lover. Overhead, the leaves rustled like ancient scrolls, and the rhythmic ripples of the lake provided a soothing lullaby. In this moment, she merged seamlessly with the natural world, an integral part of a harmonious landscape. The water's gentle caress on her ankles brought forth sheer delight. She wiggled her toes, savouring the exquisite sensation. With each movement, every ripple she created in the water, she found a wellspring of unadulterated joy. Her laughter echoed, blending harmoniously with the songs of the birds in the nearby trees. Her gaze was drawn to the horizon, where the sun's golden glow painted the sky with hues of orange and pink. Her thoughts wandered to the future, where dreams and aspirations converged. Her heart swelled with optimism and a sense of adventure, as if the world itself were an open book, waiting for her to write its next chapter. It was a future where her heart would find its truest desires, where every sunrise held the promise of new adventures, and where her spirit would soar unburdened.

As the sun descended lower, casting elongated shadows across the water's surface, she closed her eyes for a moment. The soft breeze gently played with her hair and gently kissed her cheeks, carrying the fragrant scent of the surrounding pines. It was a tranquil pause, a chance to gather her thoughts amidst the serenity of her secluded haven. But as the evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting the forest clearing in a deepening twilight, she suddenly became aware of a presence. It was a sensation she couldn't ignore, a feeling that sent a shiver down her spine. Beyond the familiar forest clearing that had always felt like her refuge, something new and unsettling had emerged.

The tranquil harmony of nature seemed disrupted as if an intruder had entered this sacred space. She stood up slowly, brushing her out of her face, slipping hastily into her boots, her heart pounding with an inexplicable mixture of curiosity and trepidation. She scanned the tree line, her eyes straining to pierce the gathering darkness. And there, between the dense shrubbery and shadowy trees, she saw it— a pair of eyes glowing with an eerie luminescence. The intensity of their gaze sent a chill through her, and she felt a sense of foreboding. She considered the possibilities: perhaps it was a lone wolf, their eyes reflecting the fading light. Or, in the depths of her imagination, a more ominous thought took root— a creature of legend and terror.

As she slowly retreated from the water's edge, she couldn't tear her eyes away from those glowing orbs in the darkness. Her instincts told her to be cautious, to respect the untamed wildness of the forest, and to tread carefully as she made her way home. With each step, she couldn't shake the feeling that the presence she had sensed was something beyond the ordinary, something that had been drawn to the tranquil haven she had sought for solace and reflection. The mystery of those glowing eyes haunted her thoughts as she ventured back toward the village, journeying through the forest's depths. With a heart pounding in her chest, she hurriedly attempted to make her way back through the dark forest.

Fear of the possible threat had her senses on edge, and as she ventured deeper, an unsettling disorientation began to grip her. The once-familiar forest now felt foreign, as if the trees had rearranged themselves while her attention was drawn to the mysterious presence by the lake. Thick greenery pressed in from all sides, making it difficult to discern one path from another. The foliage seemed to conspire, creating an eerie sameness that made every turn look alike. Her footsteps, once confident, now faltered as uncertainty took hold. Panic threatened to consume her as she feared she had strayed from her familiar way home. The forest's natural beauty had transformed into an intimidating maze, where every tree and every shadow appeared as a deceptive mirror image of the last. As the encroaching darkness deepened, she battled her rising anxiety, pushing her body through the underbrush, trying to remember the landmarks she'd used countless times to navigate these woods.

It was a race against time and her fear, an urgent attempt to find her way back to the safety of the village before the night's secrets fully unfurled, and her fear of the unknown became a reality. As the unsettling sense of being stalked by what she could only assume to be a werewolf tightened its grip on her, she felt a growing unease that urged her to flee. Panic and adrenaline coursed through her veins, driving her to her feet as she started running through the dark forest. With each pounding step, her surroundings grew increasingly unfamiliar. Trees loomed like shadowy sentinels, and the underbrush seemed to tangle at her feet. She ran aimlessly, her heart thundering in her chest as she picked up speed, the urgency of escape driving her forward. In the oppressive darkness, the sound of her breath and the rush of her footsteps filled her ears. But then, she began to hear something else— a haunting, primal sound echoing through the trees. It was the unmistakable sound of pursuit, the creature she had feared drawing nearer with each passing moment.

The relentless rhythm of its power and grace echoed in her ears, a chilling reminder of the danger that chased her through the labyrinthine forest. She dared not glance back, for the terror had become all too real, her only thought was to find her way to safety in this perilous game of survival amidst the darkness. Her heart was pounding in her ears and her limbs failing her as she ran through the forest, her breath ragged and laboured, each step became a monumental effort. In her desperate flight, she suddenly tripped over a gnarled root, sprawling to the forest floor. Pain seared through her, but adrenaline surged through her veins. She scrambled to get up but hit the ground again, exhausted she realized, her escape had come to a heartbreaking halt.

Her body refused to obey her commands, with trembling limbs she lay there, chest heaving as she fought her burning lungs to breathe. She snapped her head up to look around, her nightmare had vanished into the shadows but she knew it was only a matter of time before it would catch up to her again. Willing herself to move, she managed to roll onto her back, peering into the direction she had come from as her eyes adjusted to the darkness surrounding her. Long minutes passed, and then over the sound of the blood rushing in her ears, she heard it — rustling of leaves and twigs, the eerie whisper of fur against the night air. The werewolf, with one giant leap, emerged from the shadows and fixed its feral eyes upon her.

Frozen in fear, she felt unable to breathe, dwarfed by its imposing size, she could feel the creature's hot breath as it drew near on all fours, coming as close as to hover over her. The scent of the forest and the wildness of the beast enveloped her, and for a moment that stretched into eternity, they remained locked in a tense and inexplicable stillness. Y/N couldn't tear her eyes away from the werewolf's gaze, and the creature's intelligent eyes seemed to calculate the situation, caught between predatory instincts and fascination with her presence. Then, with a hesitant and almost tender movement, the werewolf lowered its large head and sniffed her.

It was a surrealistically intimate moment, where the boundaries between fear and curiosity blurred into something she couldn't comprehend. Y/N, still frozen in place, allowed it to happen, her heart pounding in her chest. The forest rustled, the night held its breath and she and the this wild beast existed in a tense and enigmatic moment. She now was at the mercy of the unknown. Not knowing what the future held, in that fragile moment of shared vulnerability, something unexpected had passed between them.

…

And then the spell was abruptly broken as it leaned in, got a hold of her face, and licked it. Its tongue left long clammy strokes over her cheek and down the side of her neck. With its wet snout, it nudged the low neckline of her dress for access. She gasped and thrashed in sheer surprise, struggling to get away, but the werewolf muscled her back firmly to the lush forest floor. It withdrew slightly to look at her, growling a low, possessive warning which vibrated through her very being. In horror, she watched the beast's thick, viscous drool drip from its fangs and felt it land with a deliberate and heavy splat onto her chest. Shivers ran down her spine as the invasive syrupy substance tenaciously clung to the soft slopes of her rising and falling chest, lazily pooling down into her cleavage as it glistened in the dim moonlight.

She could only expect the worst, powerless, as it continued to sniff her. Its keen sense of smell and big paws explored her curvacious body, moving downwards to dip underneath the hem of her dress, sending her nerves on edge. Its snout then pushed upwards, moving her dress along with the motion, to nuzzle apart her thick trembling thighs. Her fingers dug into the fresh earth beneath her and her skin prickled as goosebumps appeared all over her body, But before she could even flinch it let her know once more, and quite vocally, she wasn't allowed to move. Taking two deep huffs of her, the werewolf's hot breath washed over her sex. A strangled noise escaped her, and then, without any warning, it hungrily began lapping at her. The sudden sheer sensation of it drew a high-pitched wail from her lips, like a wounded animal, her body curled in on itself, thighs clamping down weakly around its powerful head. Her hands shot down to grab white-knuckled fists full of the beast's thick mane as it continued, absolutely unbothered, to wetly slobber away at her. And it was too much at once. Her stomach tied in knots, and she shook with mixed emotions tumbling away inside her, even if pleasure slowly but surely bloomed in her core. Then the creature's head snapped up, licking its lips as sure goal-set glowing eyes met hers to stare her back down into submission, into the moss and dancing leaves beneath her. She was overwhelmed by it, the werewolf's sheer masculinity and assertive power made her feel more vulnerable than if she were completely exposed to him. It, on the other hand, wasted no time and grabbed at her, pulling her in and pushing her back against his hips eagerly. Her insides contracted involuntarily as it ripped at her dress for easier access to more of her body. She was met with throbbing heat on her newly exposed skin, carnal desire and the sheer size of Him against her tummy. Her mouth went dry with the realisation of what would happen next..

- FIN

#monster fucker #werewolf smut #werewolf lover #werewolves #werewolf x female reader #werewolf #my writing #please be gentle it's my first time (posting any of my writing that is)#werewolf boyfriend

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historiaxvanserra · 1 year

Text

Ruin

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Summary: Velaris is beautiful but under all the pomp and ceremony it is a den of hedonistic desire. Since you arrived you have tried to hide from that desire. But tonight, Azriel just might be your ruin.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: drinking, dirty talk, teasing, unprotected sex, pinv, public sex, rough sex, slight blood kink if you squint and I think that's it.

This is the first part of a 2 part fic but they can be read separately. Part I here.

The room is ablaze with electricity. It’s humming and pulsing and coming alive with the movements of the patrons. It’s palpable. The air is thick and sweet, tainted with something darker. The marble floor is awash with dancing bodies and you find yourself entranced in the sway of the waltzing sea, the people pressed against one another twisting and contorting, like columns of technicolour seafoam. Your body moves in similar a similar fluid motion as the current sweeps you up. For a few moments, you allow yourself to get lost in the primal give and take of the dancing tide and the sound of hypnotic music is enough to calm your jittering nerves.

The lavish reception at Rita’s seems exhume decadence. The glittering chandeliers cast the room in an amethyst glow and as you wade through the crowds the eyes of males and females alike seem to stand in silent judgment, lingering over the curve of your hips and unusually low neck line. In makes you feel exposed. As though you are a sacrificial lamb and they hungry wolves baying for blood.

The world of The Night Court is a world away from your home; a colourful oasis into which you had been welcomed with open arms. But, under all the grandiose and ceremony of Court life, Valeris was a den of iniquity. One you felt compelled to avoid lest you surrender yourself to your most base desires. Tonight, though you had acquiesced to Mor’s pleading and Cassian’s knowing glances and agreed to be initiated into the seedy underbelly of Velaris’ nightlife.

Or as Cassian so eloquently put it to Nesta, We need to get her laid.

In reality, you don’t think that their goal is to get you laid at all. Only to tear down the walls you had built so tall that no one could seem to climb. It’s touching really that your friends want you to feel comfortable enough around them that no want is too taboo to confide in them but growing up where you had untamed desire is a dangerous vice and lust a short-lived fire that threatened to burn those walls to ash.

The mirrors are hung in a long line along the back wall of the club, their reflections felt like a taunt. Like holding up a mirror to your own perverse desires.

Looking at your own reflection you hardly recognised yourself; the chandeliers shadowed light becoming entangled in the siken tresses of hair that is usually tightly braided, now falls freely, and the dress that Mor had selected melts into the curves and contours of your body in a way that leaves little to the imagination. This woman before you is not the lamb she is the wolf.

In your inebriated state, you press your empty glass flush against your chest, the cool glass drawing the fire to the surface of your skin, as you observe the main room from your spot in the corner. By now, the rest of the Inner Circle has trailed one by one into the private lounge next door looking for a reprieve from the glare of neon light and the rhythm of the music. The alcohol had done its job in setting your throat ablaze and the fae wine pressed its burning kisses against your skin, staining your cheeks with a gentle blush.

It’s then that your eyes find Azriel. He’s standing against the bar with a Female whose face is concealed from view, she’s lithe and willowy and you try to fight the feeling of jealousy that burns through you then. Try not to think about him taking her hips in his beautiful hands as she thrusts lucidly in his firm grip. Or what her garish cobalt dress will look like on his bedroom floor.

You’d been a goner from the moment you arrived in Valeris with Feyre and Lucien. For months you have hidden away from him. Played the meek and studious exile all the while longing from afar for a man who you think you could love if only he’d let you.

Tonight though, you feel as though your inhibitions had been utterly compromised. Perhaps its the alcohol running hot in your veins or the way he looks at her under his darkening amber gaze but it’s a deadly combination of wanton desire and weeks of unspoken longing and the threat of ruination lingers on your mind.

Azriel is handsome in the way an angel might be; lust incarnate and devastatingly beautiful, with an almost sordid quality to him, that hinted at unspoken sacrilege. He looks at home here, in the thick of it, soaked in the neon glow, his signature sly smirk ghosting his lips. In these indulgent moments, you think that he is the only thing in this room worth looking at. In the cool light, he looks almost ethereal. His onyx hair is tousled purposely, the longer strands of hair curling away from his face and his eyes look like molten gold in the shadowed light. He has since shed his outer tunic and was left in a white undershirt, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows and in the summer heat, it clings to him like a second skin.

It’s hard not to think about him like this; he’s sex personified. He’s built like some great Adonis with a face that could launch a thousand ships. But he’s not just beautiful. That’s the complicated part. He’s more than meets the eye; he’s dark and brooding, with a kind heart and sad eyes. He makes you want to sink to your kness and pray to him in reverence until he sees in himself what you see in him.

You find yourself turning over Rhys’ words in your head. Azriel has a great many lovers. He’s just better at hiding it than the rest of us.

Okay, so maybe he isn’t that lonely but none of them ever last that long. Of that you are certain.

It’s Cassian’s laughter that rouses you from thought as Mor motions for you to follow her into the next room. You trail behind her somewhat reluctantly as she takes your hand in her own. You venture deeper into the masses of bodies as Mor tightens her hold on you.

You cast your eyes over to Azriel once more only this time he is looking back. From here he is only an arm's length away as he shouts over the music. Only it’s futile and his shouts fall on deaf ears. Instead, you gesture to him that Mor is here. You point at the entrance to the private room and he seems to nod in acknowledgement before holding up a finger to you. Only before he can finish signalling to you, Mor’s gentle tug on your arm sees you gone from him once again.

Having reached the other end of the bar you and Mor separate before venturing further into the private area of the club.

“There you are,” Rhys says, opening his arms to you and drawing you into a friendly hug, “we wondered where you might have gotten to.”

The private room of Rita’s is reserved just for the Inner Circle only. It’s smaller than the main room but more inviting. The chandelier casts the room in a honeyed glow and the walls are hung with rich oil paintings and portraits rather than the mirrors and cold, neon light of the main bar. It’s quiet and cool and the frosted glass doors offer some privacy from the club beyond.

You shift uncomfortably as the group looks at you expectantly for an explanation for your absence but you offer none. Your throat seizes and the familiar heat of embarrassment pools in your stomach.

“Never mind,” Nesta says reassuringly as she pats the empty seat next to her, “you’re here now.”.

Cassian casts you a sidelong glance before opening his mouth to speak.

“We’re going to play a game,” he says, the devilment clear in his voice, “do you want to join us or just stare at Az all night?”.

“Sure, I’ll play,” you say opting to repress the thought of Azriel from your mind lest you look like even more of a lovestruck fool.

The booth in the middle of the room is a large, crescent moon shape, the seats are upholstered with emerald green leather and the table is a complimentary black. The table itself is high and round and set with enough drink to supply an army. Rhysand and Feyre are seated in the middle of the booth, his arm draped over her shoulder in a lazy show of affection and they share one cup of wine. Cassian and Nesta are sat to the side of Feyre and Mor, Amren and Emery pile into the opposite side next to Rhys.

You pay them little mind as you slide into the spot next to Nesta, who presses herself closer to Cassian as the group settles in.

“Right, the game is Truth or drink,” Cassian announces happily, the perverse implication clear from the look in his eye, “Mor you can start.”

Just as Mor begins to open her mouth to speak she is interrupted by the double doors swinging open unceremoniously. In the doorway Azriel leans languidly, he’s covered in a thin veil of sweat and he has forgone the first three buttons of his shirt, exposing the taut muscle beneath.

“I brought a guest,” he says in his cool tenor as the beautiful Female from earlier strolls in, with an air of confidence, verging on arrogance that irks you to no end.

You avert your eyes feigning ignorance until his commanding shadow looms ominously over you. When you crane your neck to look at him he’s already staring intently at you, his eyes meeting yours; soft ochre and flecks of molten gold. The booth strains under his hulking mass as he slides in beside you. You’re nearing delirium when his sculpted thigh presses against yours and the beautiful Female takes her place perched on his knee.

You cast him a sidelong glance and you swear he’s smirking at you. He brings his cup to his lips, drinking deeply before speaking to the group.

“Shall we play?” his voice is dark and laced with menace.

Mor clears her throat before turning to Nesta and asking her first question which Nesta answers with ease.

The group has been passing their questions back and forth along the row and at some point you let the inebriation take hold. Letting go of your inhibitions has you confessing to playing truant to practise with Cass, cheating at game nights and having your own small collection of dirty books stashed away in the library, much to the amusement of the group.

‘Not so innocent now, eh?’ says Mor over a glass of wine.

‘And to think!” exclaims Rhys, cluthicng at imaginary pearls, “I thought you were the good one”.

‘Dirty girl’.

At your side Azriel stiffens against you, his calloused hand sinking beneath the table, his fingers accidentally ghosting the exposed skin of your thigh. You try to catch his attention and in silent protests but he is not looking at you, his eyes are trained dead in front of him as Rhys asks the question.

“Come on then Az,” he starts with a jovial chuckle, “Have you ever had a sex dream about one of us?”.

“I have.” Azriel admits, his voice is loaded with indecency.

Mor sends you a smirk as she points to you and one by one, seven sets of eyes turn on you as you drink.

Azriel still will not look at you.

“Truth or drink,” Mor starts, “Have you ever imagined anyone in this room when reading your one of your books?”.

You swallow hard then. Mor isn’t playing fair at all. You had confided in her your most shameful thoughts and now she was trying to play matchmaker while the object of your desire sat at your side with another woman in his lap.

The eyes of the group linger on you expectantly. You know their game and you don’t care to play it tonight.

“Um I-i,” you start, your voice wavers with uncertainty. You drink deep again and hang your head low in lieu of confession.

As the game continues your mind begins to wander and you abandon yourself to the thought of Azriel. His hands were deliberate and rough against your thigh. His chest and how its all taut muscle and raw power. His low growl as he sinks into you for the first time.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, hm?” the whisper comes low in your ear, his voice is laden with transgressive desire.

Your eyes seek out Mor’s in the small room but she seems all too interested in the game that they are playing now. Instead, you will play him at his own game. Your eyes are trained forward and Azriel turns back.

“Tell me, darling,” he implores you, “who is it you think of?” his voice is measured as he slides his big palm to your thigh.

“All those late nights in the library,” his breath is hot and accusatory against your neck and he sinks hisa calloused finger along the soft flesh of your thigh, “I wonder.”

He lets the implication hang in the air unanswered as the female on his knee draws his attention back to her. She’s fussing with her dress and saying she wants to dance. The commotion draws the attention of the Inner Circle and it’s then you catch Mor’s eye. You must look thoroughly frustrated as she raises her eyebrows at you in question. All it takes is a glance in Azriel’s direction and Mor seems to grasp the situation. She slips from her place between Amren and Emery and begins to move in time with the faint hum of the music next door. Her body is beautiful, graceful and tempered as she turns to the stranger hanging off Azriel’s arm and holds out her hand to her.

“Dance with me, sweetheart.” it’s not an invitation but a command to which the woman obliges happily. You send Mor an apologetic smile as she backs out into the darkness of the club next door.

As the door closes on Mor the group quickly resumes their previous conversations and once again you stare ahead at the paintings hung on the wall, trying your hardest not to look Azriel in his eyes lest he see the truth. That he will be your ruination.

“Is it Cassian perhaps?” he asks, eyeing his friend as he laughs loudly at something Rhys is saying.

Looking at him through half-lidded eyes you shake your head and attempt to put distance between your body and his. He only laughs to himself leaning in closer.

“Mor?” he presses, inclining his head to the door, “Rhys even?” he continues.

“Amren?”, there’s amusement in his tone.

“No?” His hand resumes his assault on your thigh daring to climb higher and higher with every heaving breath you take. He buries his head in the crook of your neck breathing in your scent like it's a lifeline.

“Feyre? Nesta?” you’re silent, as his finger finally reaches the apex of your thigh under the material of your dress.

You look at him now. His eyes are like wildfire and his pupils are blown wide; he looks like a fallen angel. Divine and annihilating. And there, in the sulk of his bottom lip, you are reminded of the pull of your body to his. It’s instinctual. A need.

“Then that just leaves…” you cut him off before he can finish.

You stand abruptly drawing the attention of your friends who all look between you and Azriel confusion written on their faces as you push past him and slip out of the booth and into the night.

It’s witching hour and the club is saturated in hues of inky blue and indigo. The floor is awash with dancing bodies. The atmosphere is oppressive and the smell of lust lingers in the air. It’s savage and indulgent. You brace yourself against the wall, pressing your forehead against the cool surface of the mirror, looking at yourself through dark lashes; shame and arousal still hot in your veins. Your breathing is deep and slow, your cheeks are flushed and your hair falls in haphazard waves around your shoulders. You are no wolf, little girl.

You feel his presence before you see him. He cuts an intimidating figure in this light. He’s tall and hardened by rejection and white-hot fury burns through him. He meets your eyes in the mirror; they’re glinting and profane against the black. He stalks towards you with a resolute coolness entirely his own. His approach is unchrateristically lax. Feigning surrender. It’s a trap. This you know; one you will let yourself fall into.

He’s a wolf and you are a lamb being led to the slaughter.

He reaches out a sculpted arm to cage you between the mirrored wall and his rippling frame. He smiles then as he slides in behind you. He’s all potent power and brute strength that encircles you completely. Shrouding you from view.

His head sinks into the junction between your neck and collarbone and drags his teeth along the skin there. A threat. A promise.

The neon lights colour you in shades of pink and blue and over the blaring music the sounds of drunken whispers are a savage rhapsody in the stilted air. In the reflections the bar is littered with glasses and bottled of wine and at the far edge of the room you can see Mor and the girl that Azriel has long forgotten dancing by the bar.

Suddenly, his hips thrust sharply into your ass and you have to brace yourself against the mirror as you’re pressed flush against the wall. Your shock comes out in a sharp inhale. Azriel chuckles darkly at that.

His hand gently brushes the hair out of your face, gathering it in his fist before tugging at it gently. Turning in his bruising grip you look up at him like you look at the sun. Reverence and agony.

He takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger and forces your gaze forward.

Arousal pools between your thighs and you press them together desperate for some semblance of release.

“No, darling,” he says, “I want you to watch.” he elaborates tapping the mirror with two sturdy fingers for emphasis.

You make eye contact with him in the reflection. Your gaze is unyielding and defiant as he comes to whisper in your ear again.

“Do you think you can do that for me pretty girl?” your consent is all her needs. You can’t utter a single word but a look passes between you that says what words cannot.

Please.

“Fuck” he says, “I can smell you from here.”

The thought sends rippling waves of pleasure right to your core, the friction of your thighs doing nothing to quell the dull ache for him.

Despite the layers between you, you can feel the hard length of his cock pressing against your ass as he roughly thrusts against you. You angle your hips away from him as he pushes you against the wall a second time, the cold railing digging painfully into your hips.

Azriel frees you from his grip, taking his free hand to tear his member from his leather breeches. The sound breaks through the haze of lust and suddenly you are painfully aware of the people around you. Although, no one has cared to notice any of the depravity that has passed between the two of you. If they have they haven’t said as much.

“Azriel-I” you stop yourself as he looks at you, taking his hardened length in his hand and stroking the head, coating it in the first beads of sticky pre-cum.

Azriel hisses sharply, throwing his head back in unbridled pleasure before taking you in his rough embrace again, searching your eyes for a hint of protest and when he finds none he uses one arm to spin your around so that your cheek is pushed up against the mirror held in place by the pressure of his fingers tangled in roots of your hair.

He hurriedly gathers the swathes of fabric that separate you and in one swift movement presses his naked hips flush to yours. You feel his cock like cool marble against the bare skin of your ass. He lets the material of your dress fall freely now, covering your sin. He uses the same hand to snake under your dress, his hands pressing odes into your thighs as he had before under the table. Only now his hand doesn't stop only climbing higher and higher until-

“Fuck Azriel,” the gasp tears through you as he reaches your pubic bone before sinking lower, spreading your folds, gathering your wetness and drawing it up again to rub slow circles into your most sensitive parts. His circling is deliberate and poised, his fingers knowing what you body craved almost instinctively. It sends electricity through your body, enough to bring you to your knees if not for Azriel holding you upright.

The ghost of a smile graces his perfect face and he presses a kiss to your pulse point.

“I need you to be quiet, y/n,” he sighs into your shoulder as he peppers kisses along the exposed planes of skin, leaving a trail of angry red marks in his wake.

“Can you do that for me?”, he asks, raising an eyebrow in question through the mirror. But it’s not a question. It’s a dare.

You take another look at yourself in the mirror; you’re pressed against it, your eyes veiled with this a desperate ache. It’s almost tangible. It’s intoxicating and all consuming and any notion of shame or self-respect had been abandoned the minute you laid eyes on him tonight.

You could be quiet.

Your vow of silence is all he needs to continue.

He continues down to the curve of your shoulder as his mouth roams freely now. His teeth on your neck feel like divine absolution. Or maybe damnation. All the while the scarred pad of his thumb presses deft circles between your thighs, the contours and ridges of scarred skin providing all the necessary friction to send you into delirium as your orgasm rages like a tempest through your body. His name, one fierce on your tongue comes out broken. You whisper it. Like prayer. Azriel.

“I thought I told you to be quiet.” he reprimands, it comes out in an almost broken pant pressed against the clammy skin of your shoulder.

“If you are,” he offers, “I’ll let you come on my cock.” his voice is different now; no longer the cool, low tenor he wears so well. It’s filled with the dark promise.

That this will be your undoing. Your ruin.

His movement is hypnotic as he takes your delicate throat in his hand, his fingers nipping cruelly at your jaw and the flesh of your cheeks so that your mouth opens for him. You moan gospel around his fingers as your eyes meet in the reflection.

So you will let him ruin you.

He touches you with urgency now as he gathers the shroud of fabric about your waist, letting the cool air fan the tops of your bare thighs. He uses your hip as leverage, angling your body away from his granting him access so that his long fingers trace a agonising line down the seam of your aching cunt.

His length is hard and punishing against your tightness as he sinks into you for the first time tonight. Azriel burns. It’s blasphemy but the thick tip of him fills you in a way that, when he is gone from you, you feel hollow.

He growls in your ear as he is sheathed to the hilt, your walls a velvet vice that flutters around him so beautifully and he swears no one could have foretold that bliss could feel so profane. His hazel eyes blaze golden as he sucks at the skin of your throat. His kiss is vehement, devout, fervent. His relection watches yours and you swear that when his eyes meet yours at the same moment his teeth draw blood from you, you see a God looking back at you. The bite is ravenous and your blood pools like rubies in the valley of your breasts. He moans into your neck, your blood staining his lips and you know there is beauty in the bite.

Then he starts to move and oh Gods!

He fucks like a seraphim. All pleasure and pain; brought together in perfect unison, melting into one another as he begins to seek his redemption in the flutter of your walls around his cock. Scarred hands kiss hymns up your sides. He sanctifies your body. Worships you in the way a devil worships sin. It’s hedonistic and pleasure-seeking. Greedy and his.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he whispers it like a vow into your skin, bringing a hand to flex around your throat before dropping it again, “so good for me.”

You feel the pad of his thumb pressing sharply into your folds, drawing moisture upwards from where his cock threstens to split you in two. His circles on your clit align with the punishing pace that he is fucking you; it’s savage and feral.

“Look at me when you cum on my cock.” he commands.

You crane your neck to look at his face. Devastating and elegant. But he only laughs cruelly, twisting your back towards the mirror. Your mouth forms a perfect ‘O’ as his reflection meets your gaze.

So you watch him. He’s surrounded by shadow and framed by the neon light of the club; his hair falls in raven tresses, the longer stands, becoming damp and curling away from him, his jaw is set like perfect marble and he stands tall and statuesque behind you. He bares his teeth to you, nipping at your ear as he resumes his assault on your clit.

Through the reflection, you can still see the dancing sea as it rages into a tempest as if goading you to reach your peak before the wave breaks against the shore. The liquor runs hot in your veins and your gaze hardens on the woman at the bar and her vulgar cobalt dress.

Azriels breath in your ear comes in sharp rasps that cut through the haze of jealousy as he buries himself in you again.

“Takin’ my cock so well.”

“Azriel I-” The words dissolve like sugar on your tongue as his wild eyes bore into yours.

“You need to come, baby?” he coos in your ear. It’s perverse the way it sounds on his lips.

You nod in his direction, it's desperate and any altruistic desire you may have had is long gone. You’re drunk on his touch and chasing your release above all else. So you surrender yourself to him completely.

“Then come for me.”

“Want to feel you come on my cock, darling” It’s all the permission you need.

Coming undone around him is a fall from grace. It’s desperate; all teeth and tongue as he presses his lips to your bare shoulder blade with an ardour akin to worship. In those moments where your world melts away like some psychedelic fever dream you are reminded of the fervid desire that holds you both in thrall as he fucks you through the waves of your orgasm as it comes crashing down around you.

Muscles spasm and contract and Azriel refuses to yield to the orgasm that tears through you, setting synapses on fire and leaving wildfire in its wake. You brace yourself against the mirror once more to stop your legs from giving way. He takes you firm in his arms, one hand kneading the skin of your hips roughly and the other holding you by the throat as his orgasm begins to take root.

The world frays at its edges as he buries himself so deep in you that you feel the thread that runs from his body to yours go taut. It snaps into place as the hot ropes of his come spill into your tightness.

In the quiet moments that follow he says your name; whispers it. Recites it like poetry. You cast your eyes onto his reflection. He’s looking at you now and there, through dark, romantic eyes you relish in a heaven that only exists when he is looking at you.

You’re not sure how long you stay this way, wrapped around his softening length, as fingers rub delicate circles into the swell of your hips and his lips leave almost kisses running from your ear to the tip of your shoulder.

And then he is gone from you, pulling out of you with a pained growl, as he lets the material that once separated you fall back into place. He smooths the fabric of your dress, his hand firm and calculating as it grazes over the sensitive skin of your hips and ass.

The remnants of your shared orgasm pools between slicked thighs as Azriel comes behind you again, taking you by the shoulders so that you are facing him now.

His smile is easy now and his voice is filled with his usual careful tenor he twists a loose curl in his finger before brushing it from your face as he starts to speak.

“Let's get you home now, darling”

He takes your hand in his and places the other on the small of your back as he guides you through the winding crowds and out into the cool night air.

Velaris at night is beautiful; it's alive. The stars are hung in the sky with care, each a brilliant white that glints against the canopy of twilight and pearlescent cloud and the moon is ghostly and annihilating. From here you can see the House of Wind as it stands monumental on the distant horizon. You could get used to this.

The stirring of the body next to you draws your attention back to Azriel. He’s looking at you again. Like he wants to ruin you. Like he wants to love you.

So you will permit to him put his lips upon yours once again, and let him learn to hold your throat in one hand and your heart in the other.

You know then that he has ruined you.

#acotar #acotar smut #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x female!reader #azriel headcanons #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel smut #azriel acotar #a court of silver flames #a court of wings and ruin #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses

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melanieph321 · 5 days

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Ruben Dias x Reader - Fix You Part 1/10

This story is my new baby. ☺️ Ruben is so vunrable in it, though. 😭

Part 2 and 3 are out on my Patreon for Free!

Summary - Reader is hired as Ruben's assistant nurse after receiving head trauma during a football game. He has fallen into a deep depression on his road to recovery and does not accept much help from Reader as she only reminds him of how incapable he is.

Enjoy!

You wouldn't consider yourself a failed actress. No. If it wasn't such a male dominated and misogynistic industry, perhaps you would have continued your short-lived career as an actress. Instead, you found yourself in the depths of Manchester, looking for jobs in nursing.

Luckily, you had that to fall back on. Listening to your parents might have spared you the experience of being a struggling artist. So, hats off to them for forcing you to study nursing while pursuing your acting career at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art in London. Now, the moment has come to utilize your experience in both ahead of the job interview you had as an assistant nurse.

"Y/N, right?" Said a fairly young man. You arrived at the address you had been given, and there he stood, in the doorway to a fancy apartment complex in uptown Manchester City.

"Please, follow me." He said and led you down a hall towards the elevators. On your way up, the young man explained the terms of the job interview, that if you were given the job, your employment would begin with immediate effect. Starting off with you signing an exclusive NDA.

But why would you have to sign an NDA for a nursing gig, you thought. However, as you were invited to a fairly neat residence, it became obvious to you that your employer was a very wealthy man.

"This is Bernadette and João." My and Ruben's parents." Said the young man, introducing you to an older couple. "And this is Max Foster, Ruben's physio." He further introduced you to a man in his forties, quite fit, as most physio tended to be.

"Hello, everyone." You waved, awkwardly, presenting your best winning smile.

"This is Y/N. She's applying for the job as Ruben's assistant nurse."

"I'll bring him out." Said the man named Max, disappearing into the other room.

You were offered some tea while you waited. Ruben's parents seemed quite surprised that you didn't decline the offer. His mother rushed to the kitchen to put water to a boil, but before she could return, Max entered the living room, leading a blindfolded man by the arm.

With a tap on your shoulder, the man that had brought you up to the apartment gestured for you to rise from the couch. "Y/N. Meet Ruben Dias, my brother." He said.

You stood and straightened your dress. "Erm....nice to meet you, Mr Dias."

The man chuckled. "Mr Dias is my dad."

"Ruben, please." His mother hissed. She entered the living room with your tea and a tray of cookies. "Behave, the girl is our guest."

"Yeah, but if she's holding out her hand to greet me like the other ones did, then tell her to fuck off."

You were taken aback. Quite appalled, actually.

"She's not, Ruben." His brother budged in. "So, can we please get on with the interview?"

You noted the tension already lingering in the room, how everyone seemed careful not to upset the blindfolded man. He obviously had a short temper.

"Fine." Ruben sighed and shrugged off his physio's arm, insisting on taking a seat without his help.

You took a seat as well, looking curiously at the man who sat before you. He had dark, untamed hair and a beard that needed trimming. He was also very young, the youngest one in the room after yourself. And the blind fold he wore was actually a bandage wrapped around his head to cover his eyes. You wondered how long he'd have to wear it, as well as the color of his eyes.

"As you've read in the job description...." Ruben's brother continued, taking charge of the interview. "Ruben is in need of an assistant nurse during the six week recovery of his brain surgery."

It was quite sad. In the job description, you were told that you'd be working for a man with severe head trauma following an accident. The damage to his head caused swelling in his brain, along with damages to a nerve that unfortunately affected his eyesight. However, after undergoing surgery, Ruben was expected to make a full recovery.

"He is also in need of assistance when it comes to physical recovery, since Ruben has temporarily lost some of the mobility in his body...."

Ruben's jaw clenched.

"However, that will fall under Max's job description. Your job, Y/N, will be to make sure that Ruben has everything he needs, whether that is medically or just as a helping hand around the house. We, Ruben's family..." He said, gesturing towards his parents. "Don't have the jurisdiction to help Ruben medically. However, we do handle his financial affairs until he is fit and ready to do it himself."

"There." His brother sighed. "Did I miss anything?"

It was a sigh of relief. His brother was clearly not used to being in this position, and neither were Ruben's parents. Perhaps the accident had been traumatizing for all of them, not just Ruben.

"Tell me about yourself?"

You perked up as the question came directly from Ruben and not his older brother.

"Erm...what would you like to know?" You stammered. He seemed to be looking right at you now. Perhaps he could see right through it, the blindfold.

"Anything." He smiled, but it wasn't a friendly smile, more of a spiteful one. "Like, why are you even here?"

"Ruben?" His family hissed.

"What? Her resumé stated that she is based in London. I wanna know what she's doing here, in Manchester of all places?"

"Well, the weather is nicer here, no?"

Ruben raised a brow, perhaps surprised by your comeback.

"And even though I'm from London, I guess I've always wanted to experience life in the north. I hear this is where all assholes come to breed."

The room fell silent. Ruben's family looked to have swallowed their tongues, anticipating what was to come. However, Ruben kept his attention towards you, perhaps wondering who sat before him.

You figured that you blew the interview by not keeping your cool. So much for being an actress.

You grabbed your purse and made the motion to stand up when suddenly, Ruben made a quick movement in your direction, grabbing a hold of your wrist, searching for the palm of your hand. "You're hired." He said and shook it firmly.

Part 2 and 3 are out on my Patreon for Free!

#fanfiction #football imagine #footballer x reader #ruben dias #footballer imagine #man city #football angst #manchester city #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine

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ladylokilaufeyson5 · 3 months

Text

Where The Shadows Dance - The Proposition (i)

Bodyguard!Azriel x AutumnDaughter!Reader

CHAPTER I: The Proposition

SUMMARY: Beron has invited the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court to spend a week in the Autumn Court. Azriel and the rest of the Court of Dream believe he has ulterior motives, and they are correct - but these motives come as a surprise.

WARNINGS: Um. Misogyny. love that for us (i hate the autumn court). swearing (the f-word (as in fuck)), y/n has daddy issues (bc beron is a cunt) and uh... i haven't read acotar in ages so apologies for any OC characteristics and forgetting everything about the autumn court. but i did read HOFAS recently so hopefully az isn't too out of character. also tw: beron

NOTE: so obviously Y/n is the daughter of the autumn court. we know they have red hair BUT i want this to be as less oc as possible so y/n has your colour hair and u can make up ur own story about why but mine is that she's 'rebellious' (as you'll see later on) and just dyes her hair. also special thank you to my moots @icey--stars and @fieldofdaisiies for proofreading my work! i love you guys<3

WORDS: 2.7K

Azriel glowered at the male sat across from him. Eris either didn't notice or pretended he didn't care as he reclined in his chair, one arm over the back and looking for all the world he was in his own home, rather than the Court Of Nightmares.

"Eris," Rhys drawled, "if you have any information to help us with this meeting with your father, we would appreciate it immensely."

The High Lord of the Autumn Court had invited the High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court to his castle for a week, as a gesture of good will, and an attempt to strengthen their bonds. Of course, the court was suspicious of the intent behind such actions. Although Azriel had sent his contacts in to find any sliver of information, his spies had come back empty-handed.

Eris rolled his shoulders, seemingly at ease despite being surrounded by the Night Court's most deadly warriors. "I am not entirely sure what he wants, but I assume it has something to do with my sister, Y/n."

Y/n, the only daughter of the High Lord of Autumn. She was quite young, by Fae standards – only seventy-nine. She had not fought in the war against Hybern, and had very little training according to Azriel's knowledge.

"Why her?" Feyre asked carefully.

Azriel heard the shift in her tone. She was wondering, as they all were, what Beron intended to do with her. The Autumn Court was just as backwards as the Court Of Nightmares, and females were considered little more than property.

Eris simply shrugged, either not hearing the implications in the High Lady's tone, or simply not caring. "That is all I know, I'm afraid."

Cassian grunted, his eyes still on the heir to the Autumn throne. No one was particularly happy about the bargain they had struck with him, but he seemed to be a willing ally. For now.

"What can you tell us about her?" Feyre inquired.

Eris watched her for a moment, before responding, "She is… wild. Untamed, and unpredictable."

Despite his words, Azriel sensed a flicker of admiration in his tone. Azriel stored that piece of information away. It could be a weakness of Eris's, his sister. They may need to exploit it one day.

"Sounds like my kind of lady," Mor grinned.

The fact that Mor bothered speak in Eris's presence was a gift that the heir did not appreciate enough. Azriel glanced sidelong at her, noticing the way her unbound golden hair cascaded down her back, and the amount of skin her low-cut red dress revealed. Once, looking at her like that would have sent Azriel mad with longing. But after she had confided in him, after she had revealed she could never love him back because she preferred females… some part of him had been relieved to let her go.

Eris scoffed at Mor's comment. "Yes, well, she irritates my father to no end."

There was a silence, and Azriel wondered whether Y/n annoyed Eris as well, before Rhys sighed, "Well, if that's all, Eris, I'm sure you have places to be."

The dismissal was clear in the High Lord's tone, and Eris rose from his chair with a nod before leaving the council room. Everyone was silent as the male left, all eyeing each other. Feyre and Rhys were looking at each other, a clear indication of their telepathic conversation, and Azriel watched the two with a hint of jealousy. Of course he was happy from them – finding one's mate was one of the most fulfilling things one could experience. But he couldn't help but feel a sense of longing for his own. It seemed he was the last of the court to find his mate, and he had a fear that he would never find them.

"Has anyone heard much about this Princess?" Cassian asked, looking towards Azriel.

Azriel shook his head. "She is one of the most guarded individuals in Prythian. My sources struggle to even see her."

"Very guarded indeed," Rhysand murmured.

The Court of Dreams debated between themselves the possibilities of what the High Lord of Autumn could want regarding his daughter. Azriel had a few of his own suspicions – to have her taken away, or perhaps trained in combat – but none of them seemed accurate.

After a while of debating plausible explanations for Beron's offer, the court decided to head home to the City of Starlight in order to get a good night's rest before their meeting tomorrow. The High Lord and High Lady were going, as well as Cassian and Azriel. Morrigan was not permitted in the Autumn Court, so she would stay behind with Nesta to hold down the fort while they were gone. Amren would also be travelling to the Autumn Court, and although the monster she was no longer crawled beneath her skin, she made most people wary.

As he lay in his bed, Azriel couldn't help but wonder what awaited him tomorrow. He was curious about what the Autumn High Lord wanted, especially regarding his daughter, although he was also wary. Although Autumn had helped them in the war, they couldn't be trusted. Azriel fell into an uneasy sleep, cautious of the days to come.

Azriel awoke at dawn the next day. They weren't due in the Autumn Court until the evening, so Azriel decided to go through his morning exercises. The Valkyries weren't up yet, so he went through his warm ups, taking his shirt off halfway through. The morning was uneventful, and Azriel ran over the information they had in his head. Eris had suggested that Beron may be seeking a favour of some sort, so perhaps it had something to do with that.

The day passed by quickly, and soon enough, those travelling to the Autumn Court had gathered in the living room of the River House, just as they had planned. Azriel and Cassian wore their scaled, black armour, while Rhys and Feyre wore their finery. Rhysand held his mate's arm, and Azriel grabbed onto Cassian, before winnowing to the entrance of the Autumn Court castle.

It was big, and made of stone. It was quite majestic, if Azriel was being honest – high towers and red and orange flags waving in the wind, large windows showcasing rich carpets and tapestries inside.

Rhys led the way, Feyre on his arm and Cassian and Azriel following closely, and Amren trailing behind. Guards monitored them as they passed through the halls, their armour heavier the closer they got to the throne room. Azriel marked each one as they passed, something he was sure Cassian and Rhysand were also doing.

The doors to the throne room opened, and revealed the High Lord of the Autumn Court sat atop a dais, the Lady of Autumn seated beside him. Beron's sons stood on his left, and his daughter was seated to her mother's right.

Azriel paused at the sight of her. She was beautiful, even by Fae standards. Her h/c hair shone in the Fae light liming the walls, piled neatly on her head in a braid crown. Y/n’s e/c eyes sparked with mischief and curiosity, skimming over the members of Azriel's Court, until they finally landed on him. Her gaze was mesmerising, and Azriel couldn't find it in himself to break it. A small smirk played at the corners of her mouth, as if she were aware of the effect she had on him, although Azriel's mask of icy cold had not budged even an inch. Azriel quickly tore his eyes away from the Daughter of Autumn, marking the guards posted by the doors and the dais, and counting the weapons each of Beron's sons carried.

"Beron," Rhysand purred, ever the arrogant High Lord, the mask back up despite the High Lords' meeting all those months ago. "So lovely to see you again. Thank you for inviting us to stay."

Beron rose from his dias and stalked towards the High Lord of the Night Court. Everyone tensed as he stepped closer and closer, and Azriel subtly reached for the dagger at his side. Beron's blood would spray across the marble floors the second Azriel suspected he would harm his High Lord or Lady. But Beron simply held his hand out, and Rhys gripped it tightly, his eyes holding a small amount of surprise.

"Rhysand. A pleasure to have you here," Beron replied. Azriel didn't miss the slight strain in his voice. "You must be hungry. Shall we?"

Beron inclined his head to the dining room and led the way with Rhysand and Feyre at his side. He hadn't even acknowledged the High Lady, something that made Azriel want to rip the male’s head off, but Rhys got there first.

“And what about my High Lady?” Rhys purred, a dangerous edge to his voice.

Beron’s smile faltered slightly, and he glanced at Feyre with a barely concealed look of distaste, as if he would rather rip off his own toenails than address a female with the same amount of respect that he would expect. Azriel felt a protective anger surge through him, and he watched carefully, curious as to what the High Lord’s next move would be.

“Of course,” Beron said, his voice dripping with fake courtesy. “My apologies, Lady Feyre. Of course it is wonderful to have you both visit.”

Cassian gave Azriel a look that said, And-what-about-us? Aren't-we-wonderful?

Azriel sent him a look back that said, Shut-the-fuck-up.

Beron led them all to the dining room, the Autumn colours present everywhere they looked. The chairs were all high-backed, and Azriel knew that Beron did not care if he and Cassian would be comfortable with their wings. Everyone took their seats — Beron at the head, Rhysand to his left, and Feyre beside him. Azriel sat next to his High Lady, Cassian taking his seat adjacent to the shadowsinger. The Lady of Autumn (still not a High Lady, despite the fact that Viviane was also now a High Lady) sat to Beron’s right, Eris beside her, and Y/n next to him, and across from Azriel. Azriel felt Y/n’s eyes on him, and he met her gaze. There was a curious look in her eyes, a look of anticipation mixed with mischief.

Dinner was served, an array of meats and vegetables placed on the table by servants, mostly lesser fairies. None of them looked Azriel in the eye, and he wondered if it was because they knew who and what he was, or if they’d been trained not to. Y/n, however, had no such qualms about this, and stared at the shadowsinger unabashedly.

Beron struck up a conversation with Rhys — small talk, something that Azriel internally cringed at, because it was definitely just to fill the silence. Ever the gracious guest, Rhysand responded in kind, although Azriel knew he was wondering what Beron’s ulterior motives were.

“How do your siphons work?”

The table went silent as Y/n spoke, her cunning eyes trained on Azriel. Beron looked at his daughter with a hint of irritation gleaming in his eyes, as if it was unacceptable for her to speak without permission. Azriel glanced at Rhysand, who was watching the daughter of Autumn with a hint of suspicion in his eyes.

“How do you know that is what they are called?” Rhys asked, his eyes trained on the only daughter of Autumn.

She shrugged, and answered, “I read a lot in my spare time. I remember reading about the Illyrians, and their siphons. If I remember correctly, Illyrians tend to possess only one, yet the two of you hold several.”

“There is no need to question our guests, Y/n,” Beron scolded firmly.

Y/n frowned. “I was simply curious.”

“Do not speak back to me,” Beron reprimanded, a burning fury now evident in his eyes.

Y/n slumped back into her chair slightly and bowed her head. “My apologies, Father.”

Beron didn’t even acknowledge his daughter before he turned back to Rhys, as if her mere existence didn’t deserve another moment of his time. Azriel watched the female in front of him as she stared at her plate, and felt a sense of sympathy for her. Azriel owed her nothing — he did not know the female in front of him, did not know if she even deserved his sympathy — and yet he felt the need to protect, to wipe that blank expression off of her face.

“Our siphons act as a conduit for our raw power,” Azriel offered, causing Y/n to look up. Beron paused, glancing at the shadowsinger and the Autumn daughter, and Azriel continued, “It helps to control our magic, to make it precise and nimble, rather than a messy outburst of power.”

Cassian gaped at his brother, as if he had never heard that many words come out of Azriel’s mouth in one sitting. While that was an inaccurate statement, it was true that Azriel never tended to speak in front of new people. He wasn’t sure why he had done so anyway. But Y/n bowed her head in thanks at the information, perhaps still wary of answering and speaking without her father’s permission, but Azriel had observed a small, triumphant light in the female’s eyes at his reply.

Azriel watched as that gleam faded when Beron cleared his throat, gaining the attention from everyone in the room.

“There is a reason why I have asked you here,” Beron stated.

“Surprise, surprise,” Cassian muttered, and Azriel elbowed him.

Beron glanced at Cassian for all of a second before continuing, “There has been an attempt on my daughter’s life.” Stunned silence met Beron’s words, and Azriel caught Y/n rolling her eyes. That raised his suspicion — were Beron’s words false, or did she simply believe it was not an issue? “If it appeals to you,” Beron went on, “I seek to employ one of your Night Court warriors as her personal bodyguard.”

Rhys blinked once, his only sign of surprise. Beron looked at Rhys expectantly, and Azriel could have guessed the thoughts that flew around Rhys’s head.

“Why one of my warriors?” Rhys inquired carefully.

“I hoped it might help strengthen bonds between our courts,” Beron expressed.

Azriel watched the High Lord of the Autumn Court carefully. There seemed to be no ulterior motives hidden within his demeanour — he did not shift nervously, none of his facial features even so much as twitched.

“And say I agree to this,” Rhys said casually, “how long would you hold onto one of my warriors?”

“Until the threat against my daughter’s life is eliminated,” Beron answered.

There was silence for a few moments while everyone processed what was happening. Azriel looked at Eris to see the male’s eyes on his father. They were carefully guarded, a mask in place to ensure no one was able to discern what he was thinking. Azriel turned his gaze to Y/n, and a shadow slithered up by his ear.

She does not believe it to be such a serious matter, the shadow whispered. She wishes for this dinner to be over so she may go back to her quarters and finish her novel.

Azriel blinked in surprise at the information from his shadow. Usually, his shadows would tell him what others could not see and hear — but this felt almost like too much. Yes, his shadows had a tendency to recognise when someone was lying, or what weapons they were concealing, but to give him a person’s unvoiced opinion on a matter was something new.

But indeed, with her chin propped up on her delicate hand, and twirling her dessert fork in the other, she appeared to be completely disinterested. Azriel turned his gaze back to the male beside her, to see Eris already watching his sister. His eyes were cold and calculating as he regarded her, as if he was mentally playing out how this ‘bodyguard’ situation would go. With the slight frown tugging the corners of his lips downwards, Azriel assumed Eris did not believe it would end well.

“Please, do take time to come to a decision,” Beron offered. “I do understand this is a lot to ask.”

“We shall have an answer by the end of the week,” Rhys said with a nod.

Beron nodded back, and Azriel wondered what they were getting themselves into.

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