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thisblogisaboutabook · 3 months

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Rainy Season - Part 4

All You Ever

Azriel reflects on his past mistake including the night with Elain. Cassian makes a huge mistake.

A/N: Before reading this chapter please know that I am not condoning cheating or the actions of Azriel or Elain. I do not feel sorry for either of them in any way. I simply enjoy adding a little complexity to the story and selfishly love sprinkling in chaos. Also this is not proofread, I’m exhausted.

And for cauldron’s sake, please just trust the process before yelling at me!!! This is just one chapter from the two biggest idiots involved, not the whole story.

Part 3 Part 5

Warnings: Not proofread, Alcohol, Language, Unintentional ingestion of an aphrodisiac leading to sex

Azriel

He may have been a fucking idiot but Azriel’s self-awareness was painfully acute. His scar riddled hands were forever tainted with the essence of blood that even her plush lips couldn’t kiss away, his angel mate. What a cruel joke the cauldron had played the day that bond snapped between them. She was resplendent in sun shrouded glory and he was the devil who dragged her down. Just selfish enough to ignore the warning bells that he’d one day fuck it all up, just selfish enough to pull her away from her home and covet her within the walls of Velaris. In the beginning, he’d fought so hard to deserve her though she’d never asked him to. She wanted only him and knew he was unworthy of her, he always had been. It was exhausting - the mask. Constantly trying to hide from her that dark, sadistic side of him that was everything opposite of what she was.

She saw through it, of course. She always had. All she wanted was him, all of him. Begging him to show her beyond the good of him at surface level, she wanted all of his self-proclaimed bad too. She’d told him that dozens of times over the years but dropping that mask meant unpacking so much - so much more ugly than even he was prepared to reveal to himself.

At some point he began to resent her and he knew it wasn’t fair. He resented his perfect, pure, untainted mate. Wasn’t it ironic that she’d shown him everything beneath her own surface numerous times, unveiled that she herself was not the Angel he placed her on a pedestal as. She’d shown him everything and he still viewed her through that near-holy lense.

If only he could have put his stubbornness, his self-loathing aside and realized she would have done the same for him. It was too late for that now.

And now I'm without you, and it took distance to see that losing you, means losing everything

————

Something had been wrong for a while. He ignored it assuming that perhaps it was a mental blockade erected by a combination of fatigue and work tensions. He’d slowly distanced himself from his mate. He knew it hurt her, it hurt him too. His intentions were genuine, sparing her the pain of his own inner turmoil by distancing himself while he worked through it. He was simultaneously aware that he was a fucking bastard for doing so, she deserved an explanation but he couldn’t give it to her yet. He justified it as the lesser of two evils.

Unsurprisingly, the mating bond is a fickle thing. As he distanced himself, a chasm of emptiness opened within him that he’d desperately tried to fill with missions and various courtly duties. Training with the Valkyries helped, being there for Elain through her own struggles….

He took his duty to help her seriously, though it technically was not a duty even assigned to him. A distraction. It was a distraction. Ever the spymaster he spent their initial time together observing her, the things that brought a little bit of life back to those once bright eyes.

He’d sun his wings while she gardened and read across from her in the study, little things so she’d know she wasn’t alone. Eventually she began talking again. At first just a comment here or there but then there was communication, getting to know each other, small talk eventually becoming deeper topics. He learned of her resentment of the choice she felt was ripped from her, left with no time to mourn the loss of her mortal life or consider the implications on her relationship with Graysen because of it.

Not to mention the shock that one of the faces she blamed for being damned to the cauldron, one of the first faces she saw coming out of it was her mate and she was just supposed to accept it? Over time, Elain became a friend. A bright spot to the numbness created by the self-imposed gap between he and his mate. His mate….

It had taken some time to realize that he wasn’t feeling her through the bond, when was the last time he’d felt her? It was becoming fainter and fainter, more faint than it even should be with distance. He’d send feelings to her on occasion. A little spark of joy when he saw a lovely sunset or the moments when his desire for his mate heated his blood so thoroughly he had no choice but to excuse himself for relief by his hand.

He needed her to know he cared, he desired her, he loved her. A little time and space to collect everything he needed to bring to the surface, to give her all of him. He left her feeling like she wasn’t enough but she was everything. He just needed space.

Until she gave him space.

The devastation on her face the day she asked him to leave. Gods, damn him and the hurtful things he’d said. They’d be ingrained in his mind for the rest of his days along with the sound of her sobs as she fell apart before him. He’d done that to his mate. He was responsible for those tears. All because he’d been too selfish and prideful to share all of himself with her.

So, he left. She’d allowed him so much space, he could give her this.

I wish I could love you and make you believe it. It’s all you ever wanted from me

———-

The night with Elain

He couldn’t make it through dinner sober. Rhys insisted everyone get together at the River House for a friendly night of debauchery. Pouring himself a double shot of whiskey, he considered telling Cassian to send Rhys his regards and hole up in the house of wind for the remainder of the night. It was either, go to dinner and deal with all of the questions of “Where is y/n?” and “Why isn’t y/n here?” or deal with Cassian’s well-intentioned but annoying attempts of pressuring him into going, followed by a pout when he’d stand his ground on staying in, and then the inevitable intrusion from Rhys inquiring why he wouldn’t come to dinner.

He loved his chosen family dearly but they were busybodies through and through. All he wanted was to pass the time until he saw his mate tomorrow.

Begrudgingly he threw back his glass, poured another double, then headed to the River House.

Time moved slowly when all there was to do was dwell.

What had happened? He flew slowly to the River House. Going out of his way to circle far overhead of his true home, where his mate was. Was she waiting for him inside? Was she in town? Why couldn’t he feel her? Silence. Just as it had been for months. But the emotions he’d seen in her, they were so real. Shouldn’t they have sparked something in the bond?

As Azriel approached the River House he’d come to the conclusion that tonight he’d inform Elain he’d no longer be able to visit with her as he had been. He’d neglected his mate for far too long, this past week had given him the clarity needed to go home and give his mate his all. He could slowly open up to her, he could do it.

He just needed to make it through the night.

The night went by as usual. Good food, laughter, flowing liquor. He heavily indulged himself in the liquor anything to numb the impatience in waiting for tomorrow.

Feyre and Rhys sat closely together on a lounge, Feyre leaning into him, staring up at him like the stars in the sky.

Cassian and Nesta spent the entire time making bedroom eyes at one another, Cassian whispering dirty promises into Nesta’s ear that made even the queen of smut herself blush, Nesta taking any opportunity to brush her body against his in passing.

Gods, they were so in love it made him sick.

“Home.” He told himself.

“Soon.”

As the evening wound down, Cassian insisted everyone do shots to close out the evening. He was drunk enough that he stumbled carrying in the tray of shots and let out a battle cry of victory over the fact that he managed to not spill any of the liquor.

Azriel should have flown back to the House of Wind a while ago but he needed to talk to Elain.

Nuala and Cerridwen had been on duty with Nyx for the evening, compensated well to work overnight in case he awoke, giving Rhys and Feyre the now rare opportunity to go out to Rita’s. Mor, of course, drug Emerie along and went with them. Given that Amren would rather stick pins in her eyes than go out, she and Varian opted to go back to her place.

Azriel should have gone there, gone back to the River House, gone home and slept in the doorway until his mate let him in.

But he was so drunk. There was no way he was flying anywhere tonight.

Cassian and Nesta brought out a final round of shots. Elain winced, scrunching her nose as she threw it back. Azriel thought she’d be able to take her liquor better by now. Cassian and Nesta waggled their eyebrows suggestively at eachother before throwing theirs back. And damn, if Azriel didn’t wince when he took his shot too. That shit was awful. Had they drank through all of Rhysand’s good liquor? Did Cassian dig this out from the bottom shelf?

Once Cassian and Nesta left for the House of Wind, Azriel took the empty glasses to the kitchen, cleaning up a few of the remaining dishes throughout the seating area on the way. He barely made it into the kitchen before his head began spinning. That last shot had done him in. He couldn’t even remember the time last he’d been blackout drunk. Two centuries ago, maybe?

He still needed to find Elain.

The stairs felt longer and far less steady than usual, taking him more time than he cared to admit to make it up them. His hands felt tingly on the banister and damn, it was hot in the River House. No, he touched his face, flushed and hot to the touch. He was hot.

The tingling was simultaneously uncomfortable and pleasurable, spreading over his body with haste as he neared closer to Elain’s room.

He caught a glimpse of her and her scent hit him like a ton of bricks. Had she always smelled this good?

His breathing increased, nostrils flaring as he took in her scent and fuck - he was hard. It was too late to not say anything now as she stared at him expectantly. The stars in his vision cleared and all he could see was her, zeroed in on her fluttering pulse, those delicate features.

He needed to leave.

He just needed to - shit, what had he come here to say?

Azriel’s shadows whirled reminding him of his mate. His mate. He needed to go to his mate.

He needed to tell Elain something. He couldn’t think straight.

“Elain…”

And that was when she lunged at him.

Well is it too late, and are you too far to turn around and let me be

——————————

Elain

There was nothing the Cauldron loved more than Elain Archeron.

There was nothing the Cauldron hated more than Elain Archeron.

A thin line between the two, really.

She’d spend the rest of her life groveling for what conspired on that night. She never intended to sleep with him. She never, ever intended to hurt Y/N.

She remembered drinking more than usual.

She remembered Azriel finding her in the hallway.

She remembered a sudden rush of warmth, first from her chest, seeping outward through her extremities, low into her stomach and lower, lower.

She remembered Azriel having something important to tell her. She could feel nothing but heat. Her heart racing, breath becoming rapid.

Azriel’s pupils were blown wide, his nostrils flaring. Like every single sense was hyper aware of her state. His arousal wafted through the air, his irresistible cedar and chilled mist scent clinging to her like an expensive cologne.

They were so very intoxicated.

They couldn’t do this. If she’d been sober and unaffected by whatever was running through her veins, she would have left. Immediately.

She wasn’t one to wreck a home and Azriel loved his mate so, so much. The way he talked about her, it made Elain jealous. Not of them, not of her. Only jealous that Elain herself had struggled so hard to feel anything toward her own mate for so long. Lucien who played a role in her loss of humanity, Lucien who would do anything to make it up to her, Lucien who never meant for it to happen, who tried so hard to help her, to connect with her, who wanted nothing more than to love her. Lucien.

Then why was it Azriel? Azriel who was standing in front of her clearly affected by her, trying his damndest not to be. Why was she so drawn to him? A mated male.

Was she sweating? It was so hot. Her breasts ached and her blood thrummed through her veins so voraciously that she was certain she’d bleed out at any minute. And if Azriel could see beneath her gown right now, he’d see how tightly her thighs were squeezed together. How desperately she needed release and by the tightness in his pants - she knew he was in the same state.

“Elain…” Azriel spoke. His breath ragged.

And all it took was her name rolling off of his lips for her to close the distance. One kiss. She just needed one kiss to remind herself that this was wrong. To run the other way.

And it only took one kiss to remind her how much the cauldron loved her. How much it hated her.

The moment when she felt the mating bond snap between her and Azriel.

The alcohol, the liquor, the heat, the bond. A lethal combination leading to the biggest mistake of her life.

The night she’d fucked Azriel.

She could never let him know about the bond.

—————————-

Elain woke up with a brutal headache. She would have killed for some headache power. Her room was dark, shadows deepening the onyx black of night as slivers of moonlight lined the edges of her curtains. Still nighttime, then.

Her surroundings slowly came into focus, awareness sharpening as a soft sound caught her attention. Swiftly she turned her head to find Azriel asleep on the other side of her bed.

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no, no, no.

This couldn’t have happened.

What had she done?

She threw on her dress and tip-toed out of the room in a state of panic. She was a sensible female. She knew too well the pain of losing Graysen, a human male, not her spouse, not her mate. But still, his rejection had hurt like hell. Elain would never sleep with another woman- female’s mate. No.

She paced through the library, back and forth, back and forth, praying she didn’t wake anyone up. The walls were closing in on her. This couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be.

Oh gods.

And the mating bond. How?

Her chest was tight, she couldn’t catch a full breath. She needed out.

Before she could stop herself, Elain fled into the empty street with no destination in mind. Anywhere but here, anywhere but the bed where she’d likely obliterated a marriage. She’d certainly obliterated her dignity.

The starlight illuminated streets of Velaris were endless, winding through alleys and lanes. In her panicked state, Elain had no clue where her feet were taking her as she blindly followed her gut. It wasn’t until she was in front of the door that she realized her heart had made its choice. It knew exactly who to go to, she only prayed it wasn’t too late.

She took a shaky inhale and raised a hand to knock but the door flew open revealing a shirtless Lucien, his bare, muscled chest heaving. “I felt you coming.” He gasped. “Through the bond.”

—————-

Azriel

The sun’s rays illuminated the edge of the curtains. Azriel’s stomach was tight, nausea from the previous night’s alcohol overwhelming him. His bed felt colder than usual, more stiff.

He looked around to find that he’d never left the River House. He was…

He was in Elain’s room.

“Oh, fuck!” He sobbed to himself as the previous night came pouring back to him. Setting his face in his palms, he cried. What the fuck had he done?

Azriel bathed, desperately scrubbing Elain off of him. By the time he was through, his skin was an angry red. He snuck out of the River House, flying to a grassy knoll high above Velaris. The spot where he and Y/N had first made love, where the bond snapped, where he’d proposed. He shifted uncomfortably as he tried to get comfortable, the unease settling in. It was blasphemy to desecrate such a sacred spot with his shame.

“What do I do now?” He asked aloud, the only response the whipping of the wind around him. He didn’t understand what had overcome him. He’d never been so “effected” before, even in his drunkest moments. Once Elain’s lips met his, his brain had shut down, nothing else mattered but the feel of skin on skin. His body needed release and acted on pure primal instinct.

And now, he had a decision to make. He could go home and lay it all out, slightly easing the guilt of holding in his greatest sin while completely and utterly destroying his mate.

Or, he could go home. Show his mate all of the love that he had been withholding for too long now, sweep her off her feet, take care of her and start opening up. Give her his all, even the ugly parts that he kept so deeply hidden.

Gods, she’d given him so many chances and he’d let her down at every turn. There were no excuses for the way he had treated her.

All she’d ever wanted was him, all of him, including those sides he’d never wanted her to see.

Now he could only go home and love her. Love her with everything he had and pray she believed it.

———————-

6 months after Y/N left

Azriel looked in a hallway mirror on his way to Rhysand��s study. Dark circles hallowed out his under eyes. The drink he’d had prior to flying down here did nothing to numb the violent ache within his heart. Would it ever quell? Would this puncture wound ever heal?

It wouldn’t. And he didn’t know if he wanted it to. He was a bastard and deserved every ounce of this isolated misery. Trapped in a prison of his own making. The ache in his chest a constant reminder of the love he’d squandered. And for what? A meaningless night with a pretty female. Had he not had enough of those nights in his life?

Not that Elain would speak to him. Though she had apologized, countless times. It didn’t matter. As far as he was concerned, he was the only one to blame. Occasionally he’d catch Lucien’s assessing glare, an infuriating blend of contempt and pity etched into his features. Azriel didn’t know which he hated more, he didn’t deserve pity.

Azriel’s skin had sallowed. Had he ever been this pale before? And the bargain tattoo on his arm. Fuck, he hated it. After his third attempt to infiltrate the Summer Court, Rhysand gave Azriel the option of a cell in the Hewn City or a bargain.

Ironically the bargain served as a prison of its own. He was not allowed to go anywhere near the Summer Court or communicate with Y/N in any way. The only method of communication he was able to find a loophole with was the tugs on the bond. He’d pull and pull, nothing.

If only he could try to explain, apologize, anything.

Breaking his gaze from the shell of a male in the mirror, Azriel stepped toward the study.

Cassian’s booming laugh barreled through the cracked open door.

“Trust me, Feyre will love it. I’m sure you guys could use a little spark at the end of the day. You’ll be rolling in the sheets all night.”

Rhys only chuckled.

Cassian continued, “Tastes nasty as hell though. Here’s an extra vial, just in case. The first time Nes and I tried it, it didn’t work. Not sure why.”

Azriel let out a huff, stepping into the study. Cassian and Rhys ceasing their conversation in his presence. They’d been painstakingly obvious in not talking about their mates or anything relationship related in front of him since his mate had left. He refused to speak to anyone about why she left, too embarrassed to admit to this bed of his own making. They knew it was his fault and that was all that mattered.

Azriel scowled. “You don’t have to stop talking about your mates just because I’m around.”

Cassian awkwardly raised his arm, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry brother. We just don’t want to make things harder for you than they have been.”

“Considerate.” Azriel sneered, jerking his head toward the vials. “What are those anyway?”

Cassian smirked, “Oh, just some aphrodisiac potions from a new apothecary in Velaris. Really powerful shit. Nes and I-“ Rhys elbowed Cassian. A warning to not take the conversation too far. They could talk of their happy relationships without absolutely rubbing Azriel’s face in it.

Cassian quieted for a moment before continuing. “It tastes gods awful but the payoff is totally worth it. Remember those shots we took after everyone left dinner several months ago? We mixed it into Nes and I’s glasses and didn’t notice the taste. Didn’t work either though. Must’ve been a dud. Lady at the shop gave us a replacement vial the next time we were in and…. well, let’s just say we keep it in stock at the House of Wind now.”

Azriel went preternaturally still. His shadows growing angry as he ground out, “The night you two did a parting shot with me and Elain?”

“Uh…… yeah?” Cassian replied.

And before Cassian could realize what he’d done, Azriel pummeled him. Hauling him out the study doors and onto the lawn, not even making it to the sparring ring before his fists met Cassian’s face - the two Illyrians disappearing into a frenzy of fists and feet and glowing siphons.

The only sound over the impact of their hits and feral growls was Cassian’s confused, booming voice. “What the FUCK, Az!?”

————————————————

A/N: I am sorry for giving you an entire chapter of Azriel and Elain content but I will make it up to you with fluffy Eris and reader content in the next chapter!!!

@going-through-shit @kalulakunundrum @lisanna2000 @fxckmiup @sheblogs @emryb @one-big-fangirl @historygeekqueen @isa1b2h3 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @theravenphoenix26 @sidthedollface2 @i-am-infinite @caraaaaugh @evergreenlark @darkbloodsly @piceous21 @anxious-study @chessebookgirl @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @crazylokonugget @mysticalfuncollectorus @starsinyourseyes @b0xerdancer-writes @inloveallthetime

#sarah j maas #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel #a court of silver flames #a court of frost and starlight #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #eventual Eris x reader #Elain #Cassian #Nesta #nessian #acotar x hunter hayes #inspired by a Hunter hayes song #all you ever #rainy season

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wonda-cat · 10 months

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I made a DSMP storybook (with cutouts) inspired by Arthur Rockham's Sleeping Beauty silhouettes.

Full poem (in text) under the cut.

In the depths of a forest, a twisted man did dwell, with all he ever wished for, yet still his greed would swell. A prince of great might, with the earth at his feet, clad in a verdant cloak and a mask of ivory sheet. Though he owned all he sought, his essence was bare, devoid of the joy that his wealth could ensnare. With nothing left to own, he sought immortal life instead, for death he would defy. To be a God, he chose himself, in pride, he led— for none divine could die. One day, he chanced upon a boy who frolicked in the mead. For the first time, his heart was moved and it began to plead. "This child," he exclaimed, "Must be the key to my divinity, for what can move a God's heart, but a muse's affinity?" For weeks, he watched him with passion and zeal, and planned to keep this muse, to whom he would appeal. With gifts and good fortune, he lured the boy with ease, seeking nothing but for all his friendship in his kindly pleas. The boy, trusting and naïve, followed the False God's lead, his deceit spun like silken web, to which he paid no heed. The man betrayed him and drove his loved ones away, leaving the boy destitute, completely alone to sway. "Do not despair," said the False God, "for I will not leave you behind." He held tight to the weeping boy and promised, “To you, I will be bind.” "Never will I leave you," the False God declared, "I am your only friend. Forever, we'll be paired." The boy followed him, his obedience in vain. Often, he was struck, the man delighting in his pain. The boy tried to change, to avoid the man's ire, but nothing could satisfy the False God's desire. "You are my muse," he confessed with glee, "The key to my salvation, the one who'll set me free." He locked the child away in a vault without end, using him as a vessel for magic he could bend. The boy's pleas for mercy went unheard and ignored. Each time, he was destroyed, and again, he was restored. Every return to life, he was less the same, no progress made. The boy no longer smiled or laughed, his inner-light soon to fade. The False God gazed upon his work with horror and with fear, for now he knew his immortal life was impossible to near. He would die, alone and bereft in a world so vast, his muse no longer moving his heart, for at last he could see, that the boy was just an ordinary child, and nothing more than he.

#dream smp #dsmp #tommyinnit #tommyinit fanart #dsmp fanart #dsmp comic #dream smp fanart #c!tommy #c!dream #c!wilbur #dsmp tommy #discduo #storybook #artbook #tw abuse #tw kidnapping #tw obsessive behavior #my art

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d6volution · 7 months

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jax teasing reader under the table while everyone else is ‘eating’ their digital dinner.. and reader getting revenge on jax later…

please and thank you <33🙏

i love your username 😆 , this was on the shorter side but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

The Banquet.

Jax/Fem!Reader

tags: fingering, public sex, biting.

minors dni.

"Y/N.. a-are you alright..?" Gangle who sat directly next to you at the long dinner table seemed worried, their sad mask making that painfully obvious. You squirmed a little, nodding your head and clearing your throat. "O.. Of course, Gangle why do you.. ask!" your voice hitched and broke at the end of your sentence. You were clearly far from okay.

Gangle felt guilty for asking, maybe you were just nervous..? She sure was on her first few dinners, "Right.. sorry, y/n.." You shook your head, elbow resting on the table. No digging into the table as you tried to find some sense of balance. "It's, f.. fine gangle..!" You reassured the sad little bundle of ribbons.

Your leg attempted to kick the disturbance beneath the table, but Jax was quick to catch your leg and instead using this advantage to spread them further. 'Heh, you're just makin this too easy, y/n.' He thought to himself. A gloved hand stroked your inner thigh, the other keeping it pried open. His fingertips got closer to the heat in between your legs and tried to keep your compsure.

Jax was sat with his legs crossed beneath the table, his ears just rubbing against the table due to his height. He pushed your undergarments aside , finger prodding at your wet slit before dipping a finger inside. His grin wide with delight.

You slapped your hand over your mouth , stifling a yelp. You desperately wanted to close your legs but his grip on your thigh was vice. He tutted in his head as if to silently scold you. Move again and he'd have no choice but to bite you. Oh, too bad you couldn't hear his threat. Guess you'll just have to learn the hard way.

His finger kept pumping in and out of your cunt slowly, your hips bucked forward. "Hhn.." You hummed in pleasure, pretending it was because of the 'delicious' food. Shooting a nervous, half smile at Zooble who eyed you curiously. If anyone knew, it was them. They couldn't tell what exactly was going on but was sure the only person who could be behind this was the one person who wasn't at the table. Jax.

Another finger was added and you gasped, attempting to hide it with a cough. Jax found this hilarious and had to stifle his laughter, using this chance to suddenly pump those two fingers into your cunt even faster. Causing your legs to shake and try to close around his hand again.

Nope.

His mouth opened, sharp rows of teeth being bared just before he chomped at your inner thigh, leaving bright red teeth marks that just nearly broke the skin. This sent a shudder through your spine, the mix of pain and pleasure pushing you even closer to climax. Being in such a vulnerable situation, surrounded by many questioning eyes.. it wasn't fair.. you'd have to get him back by this.

"Ghn.." You squeezed your eyes shut, trying your hardest to have to the quietest orgasm of your life. But the way he was digging into your cunt , purposely curling his fingers it made it all too hard. Your hand reached down and grabbed his hand but in turn he grabbed yours , fingers digging in your forearm to keep you still as a violent orgasm wracked through your body.

You bit your lip nearly making it bleed as you came, hunched over the table. A few people had already vacated , only Kinger and Gangle were left at the table. Kinger completely unaware and Gangle still worried.

"I.. I need to be excused..!" You said, your voice a little horse. Jax removed his fingers from your cunt unceremoniously and wiped his fingers on your inner thigh. Sitting back and admiring his work.

He saw you stand up quickly, your legs almost giving out as the chair scooted back with an ungodly screech.

You hurried back to your room, glaring at Jax's in the process. You knew he had to wait for everyone to leave the table before he could even think about coming to his room.

Hurriedly you cleaned yourself up, face still flushed and heart still racing from that little incident.

You heard a little knock on your door and swung it open immediately, or course it was Jax. Standing there with a smug look on his face. Your hand curled around one of his overall straps and yanked him inside. The door slamming afterwards.

"No need to get violent doll, seems like you enjoyed yourself out there. Am I wrong? Or was I just hallucinating your pretty cunt clenching around my fingers?"

"Sh.. Shut up!" You pushed him onto the bed and he laid back, arms crossed behind his head carelessly. "Why? What ya gonna do, suck me off til I have a heart attack?"

"Nope. I'm not touching you at all."

He sat up, "What? C'mon don't be like that doll," You tried to hide your grin, giving him a faux cold shoulder so he couldn't make out your expression.

"Maybe.. if you get on your knees and say please then I'll return the favor. How about that?" You said, finally revealing your face to him. A sly smile playing on your lips.

"Not happening." He said in a flat tone.

"Well then I hope you like being blue balled my little bunny." You said with a smile and got up from the bed but he grabbed your wrist before you could. His face was downcast at the floor, hiding the very subtle flush on his cheeks.

. . . . .

Kinger swung open your door without thinking , "JAX! We have a problem I—" Kinger stood in shock, staring at Jax on his knees pleading to you and you sitting on the bed with your legs crossed staring down at him. Jax face palmed, of course. Of course someone had to interrupt.

"I.. see, perhaps I should come back later.." He slowly shut the door.

#the amazing digital circus #ask #jax tadc #jax x reader #minors dni #jaxsmut

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loveindefinitely · 6 months

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༊*·˚ BUT YOU BELONG TO ME — you, your boyfriend johnny, and his friend simon

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, polyamory, threesome, enemies to lovers, bi ghoap, angry sex, hate sex (kinda), dom/sub undertones, bickering, friends to lovers (for ghoap), love confessions

// NSFW CONTENT UNDER THE CUT //

You love Johnny's friends.

Really, you do. They're a rowdy bunch, all in-your-face with their larger than life personalities and even larger frames. However, overall, they're people you don't mind hanging out with, as long as your lover is by your side.

But that's all... general.

It's an entirely different story when discussing Johnny's closest friend. The only other person to hold their own acre of property in his gentle heart. A man who the Scot admires almost as much, if not the same amount, as he does you.

Simon Riley.

Since the day you met the lieutenant, you knew that your relationship was going to be a rough one.

He's quiet. Annoyingly so. Somehow, he manages to deliver the nastiest of words without opening his mouth, or taking off that damn balaclava of his.

No. He says it all with deep brown eyes, and overall presence. Who the fuck does that? Can manage to do that?

The feel is mutual, you discovered within two seconds of meeting him for the first time, all those months ago. All it took was a firm, almost warning, shake of your hand to cement that fact, and a hardening glare of his from behind the mask.

Since that very first interaction, the animosity between you both has been nothing if not apparent.

And, look, you try. Really, you do. This is your soulmate's best friend, the one who he spends an equal amount of free time with as you. That's all fine. You're happy for Johnny.

It only becomes a problem when his love for the two of you overlap. When he invites you both over at the same time, or you plan to go on a date and Simon just 'happens to be there'.

It's weird. Alarm bells siren in your ears, red flags are waved in your head, and you have an inner monologue yelling at a mile per minute.

At the end of the day, if you ever truly suspected Johnny of being unfaithful, you would end things.

You knew your worth, even if the pain would be near unbearable.

But this is different. Hell, you know that this is different. And not because it's a man -- your boyfriend had always been open with his inclinations for just about any gender -- but because it's Simon, and because it's you.

So.

When you and Simon are in the same room together, it encompasses a hell of a lot of insults and pettiness from your end, with Simon's cold glares and huffs of indignation on his.

It's a never-ending cycle.

Johnny, for his part, puts up with it. He laughs it off, cooling the mood, because that's who he is. It's part of the reason that you love the man, his ability to work with people and deal with confrontation outside of missions.

Neither you or Simon could've properly prepared for his patience to end, however.

Or the realisation he came to.

You're spending the night at Johnny's, which, at this point, is an event occurring more often than not, when Simon knocks on the door.

And, look. Usually you'd pull up your big girl pants and deal with it.

But you'd been waiting for weeks to try something out with Johnny. You'd both done all the research, ordered the rope, and bought the blindfold and cuffs. The wine in your hands and makeup you'd done with the specific intention to cry it off later said just as much.

It all collapses onto itself when Simon fucking Riley knocks on the door.

Johnny gives you an apologetic rinse, before hopping off of the ouch and lightly jogging to the front door, unlocking it and cracking it open. You mourn the lack of his body heat, his warm body against your own.

The dim lights from the warm yellow lights sat at the back wall cast heavy shadows over Simon's face -- his maskless one. It's rare that he shows up without it. In fact, that's only happened once in the year and a half you've known the guy.

"What's up, mate?" Johnny asks with a tilt of his head, leaning against the door frame and folding his muscled arms over his bulky chest.

Lord, if you didn't already have him, you'd be praying to every God to get your hands on that frame of his.

Simon replies quiet enough that you can't hear, and you know it's an intentional act. It shouldn't piss you off as much as it does, but you can't help the feeling of annoyance and distaste creep into your mouth like a poisonous acid, lacing your tongue with the bitterness.

Johnny murmurs back his reply, before Simon steps in, and your boyfriend shuts the door closed behind him.

"Are you serious?" The words slip out on your own accord, before you can stop them. They're accusatory, angry, and... reflective of your current mood.

If Simon's responding glare could kill, you'd be six feet under. "Date night?" Is his dry, curt reply, and fury boils in your blood.

"He had no where else to go, lass," Is Johnny's input, but you don't even spare him a glance. No. Your ire is all directed at his best friend, and he deserves every last drop of it.

"Actually, yes, it is date night," You quip back, ripping the blanket off of yourself and standing up, moving towards the two men where they stand in the doorway. The light creeps onto the floorboards, the darkened corner of the room shrouding yourselves in shadows. "You know. One without your ass for once."

Johnny rubs his roughened hand over his face, looking up to the roof as if asking it to spare him.

With a roll of his eyes, Simon spares you a flitting, dismissive glance, before turning back to his best friend. "Needta' keep her on a tighter leash."

There's a moment, then. One where you're stuck on a forked path, where each option seem as unimportant as gum on a city sidewalk.

They'll both change the course of your life forever -- but it certainly doesn't feel like it, and it certainly isn't about to affect your decision-making in the slightest.

"Is that why you can't get laid, huh, Simon? Want a submissive little wife you can walk all over? Didn't know you were compensating that fucking much. Hell, if you're that fucking desperate, we can lend you a few bucks and you can go get lucky at the fucking strip club!"

There's a tense silence, that passes for a few beats.

One.

Two.

And then Simon scoffs a nasty, incredulous sound, his attention now fully on you. "Didn't realise ya were so passionate about where I stick my dick, Princess."

It's a lot of words from the usually quiet man, and -- and they're hostile, with anger lacing every syllable that escapes his scarred mouth.

You take a step closer, unknowingly, jabbing a finger into his -- admittedly built -- chest.

"Wasn't until it started to affect me and Johnny! You're always hovering, always fucking there -- hell, if it weren't for social decorum, you'd be pulled up beside the bed while he fucks me! Maybe you could take notes, hey? You know, so you could actually find a chick that could fuck this -- this clinginess out of you!"

It's a low blow, you know it all too well, but he reacts like a dog with a bone, and it's somehow satisfying, rewarding in a way it shouldn't be. Not at all.

"You're actin' like a spoiled fuckin' brat, Princess. What, Johnny's gotten' bored of your ass? Gotta beg him to fuck ya?"

You aren't entirely sure when the two of you had gotten just a breath's distance apart, when you'd had to start tilting your head back to keep eye contact, when the tips of your bare feet started pressing against his black shoes.

Both of your breaths come out ragged, and you're entirely in your own world, forgetting all about the man holding both of your affections, the man that started this vitriol-filled relationship in the first place.

"What? Wish it was you he was fuckin' instead?" You hiss, lowly, calculated, and Simon rears back as if you've slapped him.

In a way, you might just have.

"You need to get put in your fuckin' place," is his slow, scarily calm quip in return. Your spine is ramrod straight, eyes filled with a fire in the barely-there light.

"You need to get laid," you seethe, hands balling into fists at your sides.

"Ye both needta' fuck a'd get it over with."

Silence, once more, fills the room, infinitely more cataclysmic than what any of you had planned for.

But that's just it.

There's no planning a calamity.

"What?" Johnny shrugs, as if he hasn't set a bomb between you all, as if he hadn't planned for you all to fear shrapnel scraping your skin. "Dinnae realise it was a fuckin' revelation."

"Johnny --" you begin, or, well, you try to, but your brain isn't exactly cooperating with your mouth, and vice versa.

"No, love, I'm serious," he raises his hands, palms facing both you and Simon in a placating gesture. "Hell, yer both givin' me a boner jus' from watchin' ya both go at it."

Oh.

Oh, he's right. He's so fucking right. The tension, the thinly veiled animostiy between you both -- it's never been one of pure hatred. Never been one of pure, mutual dislike.

It's been one dripping of sex, of desire. One consisting of lashing words and biting tones because you couldn't unleash them on each other in the one way you wanted to.

And maybe something else. Something you're not quite ready to face, not yet, not now.

But you will. Someday.

"Johnny..." Simon's brows are pulled together, and god, now that your lover has made you confront the feelings so heavily pushed down inside of you, you realise how beautiful the man is. Short, almost messy blonde hair, scarred face consisting of sharp features and defined cheekbones.

He's disarming in how attractive he is.

And when paired with Johnny? It's as destructive as the very bomb resting between all three of you, the one that your partner had constructed with bare hands and an ever barer heart.

"Yer tellin' me ya don't wanna bend 'er over the couch?" Johnny asks, flippantly, a genuine question.

The silence is as good of a reply as any words, and the man figures as much.

It's Simon's next words that change everything.

"Not just 'er," he says.

Not just her.

...He says.

Not. Just. Her.

The warmth of the living room reflects in Simon's velvet brown eyes, in the vulnerable glint in them. With those three words, he's put everything on the line, prepared himself for the guillotine that's in Johnny's hands to erect.

You see your lover work his jaw, work around the words about to leave his mouth, and your stomach hollows out.

If it had, oddly enough, been anyone else. Anyone else, you'd have already asked them to leave, let alone after that remark. But it's Simon. The man you know Johnny loves just as much as he does you, and the man you've forced yourself to hate, if only to repress the emotions you wouldn't allow yourself to feel.

"You," Johnny says, properly rolling his tongue over the full word, letting its weight sink in to the quiet of the apartment. "Want us. Both."

A moment passes.

Then, Simon nods, albeit stilted and, dare you say it -- nervous.

They both look at you, then, and you realise that what happens next is entirely in your hands, that all of your lives are effectively at your mercy.

So, with a deep breath, you nod.

a/n. just a teaser for this oneshot. ghoap x reader agenda 4ever!! just something about them is so flavourful and then adding a reader-insert?? boom there u go that's the good shit

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chvoswxtch · 1 year

Note

Hey, got a Matt y/n request.

You go off your pill without Matt knowing because you want to have a family with Matt. Matt notices you're ovulating because you smell different and tries to get you pregnant.

#daddy and mommy kink

#cumpi€

#Matt the animal in bed

nonnie, you summoned my inner whore, and she has answered.

this is absolute filth with bits of angst and fluff sprinkled in. please enjoy (& thank you). 🖤

warning: contains explicit sexual content (minors please dni), swearing, and mentions of pregnancy word count: 3k

ours.

There was something different about you and it was driving Matt absolutely fucking insane. From the second he woke up this morning, he had this carnal desire for you that he couldn’t seem to tame. Your scent lingered on your pillow and Matt found himself burying his face into it as his hand searched for the softness of your skin, but all he found was the absence of warmth on his fingertips. He couldn’t hardly focus as he got ready for work, and it only got worse throughout the day.

As noon rolled around, he was elbow deep in case work and in the middle of going over a document with Foggy when he caught wind of your scent on the street. He immediately paused, cocking his head to the side slightly as he tracked your path from two blocks away to their office. By the time you had reached their floor and before you could even knock, Matt was swinging the door open and pulling you in so quickly, it made you dizzy.

“Matt! I almost dropped everything!”

You giggled softly as you readjusted your grip on the carryout bag containing all your orders and the tray of drinks. Matt’s tongue darted out to lick his lips as his hands remained firmly gripped on your hips, forcing a tight lipped smile on his mouth.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Heard you coming. What’s all this?”

“Well I figured you guys were swamped and hadn’t eaten yet so I brought lunch.”

Matt’s heart should’ve swelled with adoration and gratitude at the sweet gesture. But instead, a very different part of his body was swelling and he was struggling to retain his composure.

“Y/N Murdock you are a goddamn saint.”

Another giggle escaped your mouth at Foggy’s comment, and Matt squeezed his eyes shut behind his crimson glasses as he did his best to swallow back a moan.

“Matt? You alright?”

Matt turned his head slightly in Karen’s direction, a slight panic rising up in his chest as he stumbled over his words.

“Uh y-yeah, why?”

“Because you’ve got a death grip on Y/N/N, and you look like you’re in pain.”

Matt could feel everyone’s eyes on him, including you, and he all of a sudden realized just how tight his hold was on you. He cleared his throat as he released you, taking half a step back as he tried to fix his features into an expression of nonchalance.

“I’m alright, city's just a bit loud today. That’s all.”

Thirty minutes had never felt so fucking long in his entire life. Matt’s knee bounced uncontrollably underneath the table as you laughed and caught up with Foggy and Karen. Everytime a breeze blew through the open window, more of your scent wrapped around Matt like a decadent haze, and he had to stuff his mouth full of food to mask the reaction it was pulling out of him. He could feel sweat forming along his hairline the longer he sat next to you. Matt had always found you desirable, but there was something different about you today that had his half hard cock aching with need.

He racked his brain for any kind of excuse to get Foggy and Karen to leave, even just for five minutes so he could take you in his office and fuck you over his desk. Matt had to physically stop himself from shuddering as you leaned over to press a soft kiss to his jawline, digging his blunt nails into his own palm as he fought back the urge to slip his hand beneath the dress you were wearing. His head was so clouded with lust he hadn’t heard a word you’d said, and his eyebrows suddenly knit in confusion as he noticed your presence by the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to work. I just told you I have a meeting in fifteen minutes?”

“You did?”

A slight pout formed on your lips as you made your way back over to Matt, placing your hand gently on his cheek and letting out a soft noise as his burning skin touched your palm.

“Baby, are you sure you’re alright? You’re really warm.”

“I’m always warm.”

“Yeah, but you’re like extra warm right now, and you’re sweating.”

“It’s just…hot.”

Matt tried his hardest to appear normal, flashing you a half smile as he turned his head to gently press a kiss to your wrist.

Fuck. That made it worse.

“Okay…well, if you do start to feel bad, please go home.”

“I will.”

Matt could feel your attention directly on him and the roll of your eyes before you turned to Foggy and Karen with a playful smile on your lips.

“Will one of you please send my stubborn husband home if he gets worse?”

“You got it, Y/N/N.”

Matt swallowed thickly as you gave Foggy a grateful smile before bending down to press a soft kiss to his lips. He figured once you left, he would finally be able to breathe again. All he had to do was focus back on the case, and the rest of the day would fly by so he could go home to you; so he could finally have you. He just had to make it a few more hours. He could do that. Right?

Wrong. Very fucking wrong. The sound of the clock ticking through the office seemed to taunt him about how much time wasn’t moving as fast as he wanted it to. He couldn’t focus at all. His fingers trailed over the same rows of braille repeatedly, until his fingertips almost felt raw, but he still couldn’t decipher a fucking letter. He couldn’t put them together in his brain. All he could think about was you and burying himself inside you. He made it two hours after you left before he was bolting out of the office with a half assed excuse about being sick, frantically calling you on the way out and begging for you to meet him at home.

The second you stepped through the door, Matt was on you. The front door slammed shut as he pinned you against it, ripping your keys and purse out of your hands to toss them carelessly aside. His hands roamed everywhere, gripping and kneading every bit of you they could find. Eventually you were able to break apart from him, pressing your palms firmly against his chest as his mouth eagerly sought you out again.

“Matthew Murdock, what has gotten into you?”

“I…I don’t know.”

Matt panted heavily as he licked his lips, blank eyes darting back and forth in a frenzied manner. You brought one of your hands up to cup his jaw gently and he instantly leaned into your touch, a soft whine sounding in the back of his throat.

“I thought you were sick?”

“Not sick. Just need you. Needed you all day, sweetheart. Please.”

It was then that you noticed Matt’s pupils were blown wide open, and felt the evidence of his need against your lower stomach. Your lips parted slightly in an ‘o’ shape, finally putting all of the pieces of his odd behavior together in your head.

“Oh.”

“Please, sweetheart. I need you so fucking badly.”

“I…um…we…we can’t right now, Matty. But I can-”

“Why?”

Matt almost sounded like he was in pain as he tilted his head to the side to stare at you, and the anguish was plastered clear over his face. It made you feel guilty to see him this way, and you were worried how he would react to what you had been keeping from him.

“Because…I…I went off the pill. And we don’t…we don’t have anything.”

Matt’s face instantly contorted in confusion, placing his palm on the door by the side of your head as he tried to process your words.

“What? When?”

“A month ago.”

“Why?”

“Because…I just…didn’t like what it was doing to my body.”

You were hoping that Matt was so far gone he wouldn’t notice your lie, but the disappointed look on his features made your heart start to pound uncontrollably.

“Can you answer my question without lying to me.”

You internally winced at the edge in his voice. You had never lied to him before, and when he had told you the truth about being the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, you both made a promise to never lie to one another about anything. Part of your vows were to always be honest, and you felt guilty that you had messed that one up.

“That wasn’t a lie. I don’t like what it’s doing to my body. That’s just…not the main reason.”

“And what is?”

“I want a family, Matt. I know we’ve talked about it briefly, and you said you wanted one too, but I wasn’t sure if you were ever gonna slow down enough to focus on starting one with me. I just thought…I thought if it happened, you’d be so happy you wouldn’t be mad that I didn’t tell you. I…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lied to you. I should have told you what I was doing. I just…I want this so badly, Matty. I keep having dreams about it, it’s all I can think about lately, it’s just…like this need that’s taken over. I don’t know how to explain it.”

Matt could hear the sincerity in your voice and in your heart’s rhythm. His face softened as he listened to you, and a feeling of guilt crept up on him. He had promised you a family once the two of you got married. He did want that. There had just been so much going on lately, the idea of starting one hadn’t occurred to him.

As he opened his mouth to speak, he caught a taste of your arousal on his tongue, and suddenly realization struck him like fucking lightning.

You were ovulating.

That’s what this was. You had been on birth control the entire time you’d known Matt, so he’d never experienced this with you before. This is what was driving him fucking insane. Your body was practically screaming at him, begging him for a baby, and fuck if his body wasn’t listening. A quiet gasp left your mouth when you noticed the darkened look in Matt’s eyes. You knew that look; you saw it when the Devil came home and wanted to play.

“Matty-”

Matt ignored the warning in your voice as he crashed his lips into yours, grabbing onto the back of your head to hold you in place as he nipped at your bottom lip and soothed the sting with his tongue. In a flash he’d ripped your dress over your head and attached his lips to your neck, licking, sucking, and biting his way down to your collarbones. His fingers deftly unhooked the clasp of your bra and tugged it down your shoulders, pulling a surprised gasp from your mouth as the soft fabric of his shirt brushed over your sensitive nipples.

“Matty…what ah…what are you doing?”

Matt’s voice was dangerously low as he moved his lips up to nibble on the shell of your ear, the warmth of his breath causing a shiver to cascade down your spine.

“I’m gonna fuck you until you’re pregnant.”

An obscene moan left your lips and shot straight down to Matt’s cock. A quiet growl sounded in your ear as he lifted you up and trapped you against the door with his hips, rutting into you as his cock strained painfully against the fabric of his pants. He could feel some of your arousal seep through the material from your soaked panties, and you moaned loudly when he rubbed against you just right.

Your fingers were frantic as they clawed at his tie, nearly tearing half the buttons off his shirt as you practically ripped it off his chest. Reaching down between your bodies, you swiftly pulled the leather from Matt’s belt, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants as you fervently shoved them down his thighs along with his briefs just enough to free him. Matt groaned loudly as the cool air met his weeping tip, using his legs to support you as his hands completely tore your panties off your hips.

Matt didn’t waste a second, immediately penetrating the warmth of your slick walls with his thick cock. A loud moan tore through each of you, echoing throughout the entire apartment.

“Hang on.”

Matt’s voice was rough and gravely as he ordered you, and you whimpered in response as you locked your legs around his waist and gripped onto his shoulders tightly. Everytime he was inside you felt euphoric, but God this time felt different. He couldn’t pinpoint if it was because he was extra sensitive from being so turned on all day, knowing what he was about to do to you, the idea of how much everything was about to change for the two of you, or what, but it unlocked something inside him that had Matt fucking you savagely against the front door.

A tiny piece of him felt guilty for taking you like this, knowing this could be the time that resulted in the creation of your child. The good Catholic boy in him knew he should’ve made this special and been more romantic, taken his time to savor every second of this beautiful moment. But the Devil in him wanted you and wanted you now. He wanted to plant himself in the deepest part of you, claim your womb for everyone to see, because sometimes that ring wasn’t fucking enough.

Everyone would know that you were his. They wouldn’t be able to miss your swollen belly that carried his child.

As Matt’s grunts and moans in your ear became more feral, his pace got impossibly faster and brutal. He was practically slamming you into the door with each precise snap of his hips, reaching that spot inside you only he could find, tearing the loudest cries of his name from your chest. The only other thing he could hear besides your pretty sounds were the echoes of your skin slapping together and your heart thundering in his ears.

“You gonna make me a daddy, sweetheart? Gonna be a good girl and do that for me?”

“Y-yes…”

“Yes you are. Because I’m gonna come so deep in this tight little cunt of yours, over and over and over-“

Matt accentuated each of his words with powerful, quick snaps of his hips into yours.

“And I’m not letting you leave this apartment until I know for sure that it took. You understand, pretty girl?”

All you could do was moan in response as you dug your nails into Matt’s broad shoulders, letting your head fall back against the door as he fucked you how he wanted. You were completely at his mercy like this, all you could do was take it, but God it had been so long since you’d had him like this.

“You want me to make you a mommy, sweetheart? Hm?”

“Yes! Please, Matty…please.”

“Beg for it.”

Matt bared his teeth in a snarl as he dug his fingertips roughly into the flesh of your hips, marking you just as much on the outside as he planned to do on the inside. You could hardly form a coherent thought from the way he was fucking you. You were getting dangerously close to falling over that edge, and you desperately wanted him to jump with you.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let me hear it. Beg me. Beg me for a baby.”

“God…please…”

“No. Not him, me.”

“Fuck Matty-I…please…please, I want it. I want you to…g-give me a baby, please.”

“My baby. Tell me you want my baby. Let me hear it.”

You could tell Matt was close based on his falter in rhythm. His thrusts were getting sloppy, and the devil’s edge to his voice was slipping away into a needy whine. He was begging you to beg him.

“Want your baby, Matty. Just yours. Ours. Please, baby. Please give it to me.”

You gripped onto the back of Matt’s neck, pulling him in for a searing passionate kiss. Matt let out a loud yell as he finally spilled inside you, his hips stuttering as he fucked his seed as deep into you as he could, whimpering breathlessly at the way you clenched around his sensitive cock.

Both of you were sweaty, panting messes as you came down from your collective highs. Matt kept a tight grip on your hips, stumbling backwards until his back hit the wall, sliding down slowly until he let himself fall onto the floor with you on his lap. He rested his forehead against your shoulder, closing his eyes as the haze he had been in all day seemed to slowly disappear, allowing his senses to finally clear.

“Matty?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

A smile stretched across his mouth as he pulled back slightly, staring blankly at you in pure adoration.

“I love you.”

He closed his eyes as he leaned into your palm that cradled his jaw, letting out a deep exhale through his nose as the guilt started to set in.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“That. I…I should’ve made that more special.”

“Matty-“

“I fucked your mom against the front door is not exactly how I want to tell our kid they were created.”

Smacking your palm against his chest, you immediately erupted into a fit of giggles that Matt couldn’t help joining.

“Matthew! First of all, our child is never going to want to know how they were created. Second of all, you have nothing to be sorry for. I love you, and I know you love me. And we love each other so much, we decided to create a life together made up of both of us. Don’t you think that’s special?”

Matt took a deep breath as his tongue quickly wet his lips, nodding his head slowly as he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Good. So do I. Now, if you really feel the need to redeem that Catholic guilt of yours, we can increase our chances in bed and be as sappy as you want.”

Matt rolled his eyes as a playful smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, leaning in to nudge his nose against yours.

“Heaven forbid I try to show my wife a little romance.”

“Romance away, Murdock. Take me to bed and put a baby in me.”

#matt murdock #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock fic #matt murdock smut #matt murdock request #daredevil #daredevil fic #daredevil smut #daredevil request

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thehighladywrites · 5 months

Text

— “ an unexpected twist ”

⋆˙⟡ pairing: professor eris vanserra x reader, part 3

⋆˙⟡ summary: you spend every weekend at eris’s mansion, what happens this time? Who is Eris Vanserra and how come he is so rich on a professors salary? GASP A PLOT TWIST

⋆˙⟡ warnings: mentions of smut, tw talks of beron vanserra🤢, abusive childhood, eris dropping huge stacks of money on you, eris channeling his inner sugar daddy, you call him daddy for the first time ever, mentions of an unalive body.

⋆˙⟡ amara’s note: i’m not going to lie the plot twist is either a banger or the messiest thing i’ve ever written (pls be a banger)

part 1, part 2

In the gentle morning light, you lay there in his bed, your lover's bed, serenely unaware of him, enchanted by the sight of you.

Eris had been awake for hours, yet the idea of leaving the cocoon of your warmth never crossed his mind. He marveled at the sheer luck of having someone as incredible as you in his life.

Last night, he came to the realization that he had started to feel mushy and in love with you. The thought still rattled him, and he couldn't shake the slight wariness that you held the power to influence his feelings.

Feelings, thoughts, and open discussions were never entertained in the Vanserra household. Eris and his brothers had been raised by their abusive father, who subjected them to verbal, physical, and emotional abuse. Their father manipulated them into accepting and believing whatever suited his agenda.

Through the passing years, Eris had finely tuned his act as the heartbreakingly cold and scornful eldest son. The mask of cruelty clung to him so persistently that he found himself questioning if it was a facade or a painful reflection of his true self.

When his old man kicked the bucket, Eris felt like a ton of bricks was off his back – turns out, it was just an act. Now, with the nosy observer out of the picture, he went all out decorating his room, something he couldn't do growing up. At firat he felt stupid for being happy about being able to change his room because it was something so normalized but he realized how much it healed his inner child. No more walking on eggshells; he could finally kick back. Where did he celebrate his first taste of freedom? The same bar where he first bumped into you.

Grinning at the notion, Eris not only shed a heavy burden but also welcomed newfound brightness into his life. He was determined not to mess things up in any way.

Fully aware that his actions were objectively wrong, Eris couldn't muster the will to change course. He had succumbed to love, a fertile ground for obsession. While he concealed that side for now, he knew it would eventually surface.

The gentle stir in his arms brought Eris back to the present. A warm feeling enveloped his heart as he looked down at you, tenderly running his fingers through your hair, savoring the sweet moment.

Bending down, Eris pressed a gentle kiss on your head, catching the sweet aroma of the strawberry-scented shampoo you insisted he use. Amused by the fact that his hair had never been smoother, he looked at you with a smile.

“Good morning, sweetheart. Want to do something fun today?” he suggested.

Excited, you sat up straight, a huge grin on your face, eager for some fun. When you asked him what he had in mind, Eris leaned in, maintaining eye contact, and handed you a black card with a hint of mystery.

“Go crazy,” he smirked, settling in with his glasses, preparing to read the book laying on the nightstand.

You stared at the black card and then at him. The question lingered – how did a professor end up with a black card? Weren't those reserved for big spenders and invite-only privileges?

“There's no need to be shy, love. Ask whatever it is you want to ask,” he reassured you, a knowing smile playing on his lips. Your cheeks warmed at how well he seemed to know you.

“How are you so rich? I mean, no offense, but I thought professors and teachers weren’t really that... well-off,” you inquired, genuine curiosity in your voice.

“I'm not only a professor, beautiful. I worked at my father’s company before he passed, and now I’m the owner and the CEO. Teaching is just a side job,” he explained, shedding light on his financial standing.

“Oh, I didn’t expect that. So what do you do?” you asked.

“Investment banking,” he replied quickly, not seemingly open to having a conversation about it.

You didn’t really know what that meant but you also really didn’t care. He had money and you were gonna spend it.

“Huh, okay. Does that mean I can buy whatever I want?” you tilted your head at him, a teasing expression on your face with slightly raised eyebrows.

“You can buy whatever you want. Start off by adding the card to your Apple Pay wallet. I want to pay for whatever it is you need. Don’t worry about anything anymore, my love.”

He kissed your forehead, and the gesture made your vision slightly blurry. Eris took such good care of you, and the desire to make him proud lingered in your heart. Wanting to lightheartedly joke with him you tell him how much he reminds you of a dominating sugar daddy.

“Yeah? A dom sugar daddy, huh? How about you come here and give me something sweet, then?”

His taunting voice almost turned your brain to mush. This dynamic was entirely new and felt amazing. Eris embodied a provider, protector, and lover, all in one. No more worrying about the bare minimum or small things – he treated you like a queen. Unlike people your age, he didn't play games or ask for something in return for his gestures; it was a standard for him, a refreshing change.

You were well aware that Eris's fucking would leave you in need of a nap, so you decided to playfully tease him now, saving the rest for later.

“I promise to give you something real sweet after I’m done shopping, daddy.”

Damn. You knew you should’ve saved it for later. The man grabbed your giggling form and quickly turned it into moans, whimpers and sobs.

—

Obviously and sadly you couldn’t go outside together and shop so you had to order things online, but it was fine because it was so much more convenient this way. With a few clicks, your numerous packages arrived. Was it rude to order so much on someone else’s card? Hmm… maybe for regular people, but not for you. The man had a black card aka no fucking limit. You could buy literally anything and it would go through. So you did what any sane person with an unlimited budget did.

You shopped your ass off.

Clothes, makeup, skincare, books – you turned his doorstep into a glam runway. Nails, lashes, hair appointments – basically, you scheduled a spa day for yourself via delivery. Waxes, new phone case, upgraded computer – you were basically giving your whole life a makeover. Better shoes, nicer bag – You didn't just shop; you leveled up your entire wardrobe.

When you saw the damage of your shopping spree in his living room your cheeks heated as you looked at him with an apologetic smile.

But Eris wasn’t mad, not in the slightest. There was truly no better feeling than being able to spoil you. He loved your facial expressions when you saw something that caught your eye, loved the way your eyes sparkled when you saw a cute piece of jewelry that you just had to have. Your unapologetic way of spending his money was such a turn on for him. You sure showed him how much you appreciate him…

—

The weekend with Eris was almost over, and the thought of going back to school didn't sit well with you. Being with him felt comfortable and safe, away from potentially judgmental eyes and consequences. Now, you had to act like he's just another professor, dealing with thirsty whispers from fellow students that made your fists tighten. And don't get started on Professor Jensen – despite your warnings, she still managed to hover around Eris. Guess you’d just prove your words weren’t just words and that being around Eris would give her consequences. The return to the school routine felt like a looming storm, and you weren't looking forward to it.

You voiced your concerns to him and he gave you comfort and promised that you’d be spending more time with each other next weekend and all weekends forward.

After your final night routine, you fall asleep together, finding comfort and warmth in each other's embrace. The room quieted down, and your drift off into a peaceful slumber.

—

However, the peace was short-lived. Hearing a muffled thud, you attempted to snuggle closer to Eris, only to find his heated presence absent. Sitting up, you assumed he might be in the bathroom. As minutes passed without his return, worry crept in, and the realization hit you – you had grown accustomed to his warmth, and now, sleep seemed impossible without him by your side.

You got a blanket and wrapped it around you, got into the fuzzy slipper he got you and went to look for him.

Shirtless, Eris stood there, speaking harshly into his phone. Another male voice emanated from the speaker, filled with concern and fear.

“I won't repeat myself. The deal happens tomorrow night, or you will face consequences. Inquire with your father. Oh, wait, that’s right, you can't.”

Eris's voice turned taunting and cruel, unlike the playful teasing you were familiar with. This was a cold demeanor you hadn't seen before, a stark departure from the Eris you had grown accustomed to.

“Eris?”

His entire body froze, not expecting to see you awake. He prayed to every god and whatever people prayed to these days that the man on the phone didn't hear your voice. Because there was no telling what he’d do if he found out Eris had a weak spot. He reminded the man of what he said and hung up before turning around and going back into the warm Eris you knew.

“What are you doing up, princess? It's 2 in the morning,” he smiled so warmly and softly at you, it nearly made you forget your words.

“I couldn’t sleep without you. What’s going on? You sounded angry, is everything okay?”

He looked at you with tenderness, grabbing your cheeks before kissing you softly.

“It was just one of my employees at the company who had been slacking off a bit. Don’t worry about me, my love. Let’s get you back to bed.”

You nodded at him, lifting your arms in a sleepy gesture for him to lift you up. With a chuckle and no difficulty, he complied.

Eris cradled your head in the crook of his neck, strategically shielding your view. Unbeknownst to you, his men worked silently in the background, discreetly cleaning up the dead body. He fervently prayed that your drowsiness kept you oblivious to the grim details.

Crossing his fingers, Eris also hoped the presence of his gun on the nearby table escaped your notice in the dimly lit room.

🏷️ taglist: @teenageeggscissorslawyer @daycourtofficial @nocasdatsgay @vellichor01 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @rowaelinsdaughter @meshellexplosionmurder @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @candyjaypoppins @natashachelsea @whatthefuckshappeningrn @acourtofbatboydreams

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somerandomdudelmao · 1 year

Note

I hope this kills you and makes your day at the exact same time. I'm winging this btw and it's all improv in mah brain so it might be longer than expected, idfk, we'll see.

Thanks so much for existing and giving us this comic in the first place now suffer-

-{###}-

Leo watched as Donnie continued talking, his movements exaggerated and his words ecstatic. The holograhic screen lit up every surface within a 2-foot radius, the words big and bright against the darkened atmosphere. Beside himself, Mikey and Raph shivered on each side, looking anywhere but at Donnie's face. And even though Leo understood why they couldn't bare to look their brother in the eye right now, something deep inside of him still burned with annoyance. Because despite everything, it was still Donnie! They just couldn't see it yet!

Not like Leo could see very well past the hard, stable shell that his twin had built around himself. Not like he could tell how Donnie was really feeling. Not like his tireless efforts to reach out and help did anything noteworthy.

All it got him was...

"...Oh! And how could I forget the infirmary machinery as well!" Donnie continued, his voice raised in a professional manner that would make anyone else think he was just giving a regular presentation. "The infirmary duties will obviously be passed onto you, Leo, since aside from Casey, you're the most medically knowledgeable. Plus, I know you won't disappoint."

Of course, Leo wasn't anyone else. He could hear the manic cry for life and freedom and pain in his twin's voice, no matter how quiet. It was there, faint and far away, somewhere that not even Donnie could find it, but it was still there and it needed answering.

Donnie just kept refusing to look in the right direction.

---

It was well after midnight when Donnie pulled Leo aside for a chat about the affairs of taking on three positions at once. The leader of the resistance could barely piece together what Donnie was saying though, his words muffled by the bigger picture.

In the dead of night, as expected, Donnie's demeanor took a complete 180 shift, his expression barely masking the exhaustion and weakness he undoubtedly felt. His eyes were half-lidded and cloudy, a look that Leo's only ever seen thrice in those yellow and red irises. His shoulders, despite getting bonier and bonier by the day, were slouched in a lazy way that made the soft-shell look like a corpse. The purple hoodie he so much adored nearly reached his knees, the lost fat and muscle making the article of clothing seem bigger than it actually was.

But one of the worst aspects about Donnie's appearance didn't have anything to do with any signs of death or sickness. No... The thing that made Leo really want to throw up...?

Donatello was now shorter than Leonardo.

"C-come on, Donnie... Why would I need to learn any of this... Nerd... Stuff, if I already have you?"

A stupid question. Idiotic, dumb, foolish, stupid, demeaning, disgusting, stupid, gross, stupid stupid stupidstupidstupidstupid-

"Riiiiiight... Anyway, you'll need to remove that panel right there to get to the inner-workings of..."

But even though it was a stupid question, Donnie would've usually gone out of his way to answer it.

Why wouldn't he answer?

---

Two weeks.

It had only been two weeks.

But it felt like a lifetime.

Donnie wasn't dead yet, thank whatever god that's still out there that he wasn't, but Leo still felt like he was. Donnie was literally just there, he was just right in front of him, talking about the schematics of something or other, running his mouth like he's been doing for the past few days. Nothing truly notable about Donnie's health had really changed, no weakening brain cells or crippling disabilities. The only things that had changed were Donnie's height again and his now inability to walk.

His inability to walk. Just two weeks ago he was bouncing off the walls and biting people's noses off.

However, despite all of the physical evidence that Donnie was very clearly still here and alive, Leo couldn't help but feel like a part of him was gone. Dead, deceased, whisked away by the winds of time... It was hard to explain, even for him, how something inside of him just kind of... Faded away.

The Death, as Leo pessimistically liked to call it, was a slow and agonizing process, beginning all the way back when Donnie first revealed his worsening condition and then continuing on until now. It began with just a little click, a little pinprick of emptiness and loss and HURT that Leo didn't know how to fix. Then that pinprick slowly grew into a scab, then a paper cut, then a scratch, then a hole, and then finally evolved to a gaping wound that would take years to fix. It was just this... This agonizing feeling of emptiness and loneliness that Leo hadn't even felt when Raph first died. (Haha, funny. He's already died twice by now. Hilarious.) And no matter how hard Leo tried to heal it with potions and bandages and medicine and melatonin, it never went away.

Not even when Donnie stood directly in front of him.

And isn't that just hilarious? Isn't that great? Isn't that just Splendid? Isn't that just the coolest Revelation That LEO'S EVER FELT?? ISN'T THAT SO INTERESTING????

Isn't it funny?

---

Leo watched as Donnie continued talking, his movements exaggerated and his words ecstatic.

He watched the ghost wave goodbye with a dramatic flair and a little giddiness in his step, the small soft-shell turtle barely able to show his hand from inside the giant sleeve of his favorite hoodie.

Leonardo waved back, a sad, forced smile and a train track of dried tears gracing his face.

Red enveloped Leo's vision one final time, and soon enough...

The half of himself that somehow still remained...

Faded away.

-{###}-

Haha get Disaster Twin'd idiot-

DLFNRJRIFJJTG3OFOFJEVDKDOSGDEKEBSIFJEIBDJDJDNFBFKFBFKRBRJRJRJRJD

I mean. Thank you. This is amazing and I love it with all my heart💜💙

#What horrible person would put characters through such trauma???#looks in a mirror #ah.#right.#dies casually #collapses #*$&=(@₩#heekoeiejdbxno #fic tag

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mycadences · 3 months

Text

I honestly believe that Elain would drop Azriel like a hot potato if she were offered a chance to be turned into a human again and vice versa if he were to find his mate. I think they care about each other, but not enough to give up the one thing they each desire the most right now. And a sexual relationship (tbh I won't even call their relationship that lol since all they had was just one almost kiss) can turn platonic (proof: Cassian and Mor, Aelin and Chaol). Elain still misses Graysen and Azriel hasn't gotten over Mor yet. They're using each other as a distraction to mask their pain and longing.

I think Elain is resentful of her bond with Lucien because it reminds her time and time again that she is Fae and no longer human, while Azriel desperately yearns for a mate but believes he is undeserving of one. Again, this is another way their views diverge. Opposites can attract, but Elain and Azriel are so dissimilar that they don't complement each other at all, at least in my eyes.

Elain will feel that she has no say in her own life (everyone infantilizes her, decides what she can or cannot do, dictates her relationship with Azriel, who isn't any better with his "There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.") and ironically, it will be Lucien who gives her the choice of accepting or breaking the mating bond. The mating bond that she resents so much will become the only thing she has a choice in.

Azriel will fall into despair when he realizes that Gwyn is his mate (not confirmed yet, but highly speculated) because he believes he failed her by not arriving fast enough to stop her from being assaulted. I actually think he may be repressing their bond somewhere deep inside him (which is why his shadows are aware that Gwyn is his mate). He will have to grapple with his feelings of unworthiness and guilt and learn to let them go.

I want to see the four of them grow as characters and couples. I am unconvinced that Azriel and Elain being supposed "true mates" will allow us to see this growth. Azriel will come to the conclusion that indeed, his line of thinking is justified (three brothers = three sisters!) and how he feels about himself will be left unresolved. Similarly, it rips away an integral conflict of Elain's arc (given a mating bond with someone she does not want) because, as I've mentioned above, she currently "wants" Azriel as he is a convenient distraction. She will not be forced to do some inner reflection and realize that her humanity is not tied to her transformation or mating bond.

#gwynriel #pro gwynriel #elucien #pro elucien #antielriel #elain archeron #azriel shadowsinger

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illyrian-dreamer · 1 year

Text

Feel too much

Azriel x Reader one shot

“How much have you had to drink?” | “Let me take you home” | “I’ll be here when you wake up”

Summary: After being humiliated at a Night Court meeting, you drown you sorrows in a drink before sneaking off on your own.

Azriel needs to make sure you’re safe.

Warnings: Alcohol/drugs (18+, minors DNI), mentions of death

Words: 3,611

--------

“She’s a bastard whore,” Keir spat. “Just like her mother.”

Shadows exploded around you. Azriel’s hands were around Keir’s neck in an instant, throwing the male against the marbled wall.

“I’ll kill you right here,” Azriel snarled, his first words of the entire meeting.

Keir did his best to conceal his shock, coughing and smiling at Azriel’s outburst as he tried to breath against the hand around his throat. “She a traitorous whore who can't be trusted. Her mother was the same, she ruined this court!”

Azriel pulled Keir back before shoving him against the wall again, the marble cracking under the force as Keir grunted in pain. Azriel’s growl rippled through the room as his shadows arched like arrows, daring Keir to say anything else.

Your face had dropped and your body sagged at what Keir had said – you were unable to hide just how much those words had struck home.

Rhys wore his mask of nonchalant indifference, a small smirk placed on his lips. “Hold back, Azriel. You’re damaging my home.” You knew it was only an act, Rhys playing the High Lord of the Night Court better than anyone could ever know. That didn't mean his lightheartedness didn’t hurt.

Azriel didn't break his stare at Keir, his teeth bared as he was forced to step down, likely buckling under Rhys’s power.

“Ah Keir,” Rhysand tutted. “When will you learn to keep that horrible trap of yours shut?”

Keir glowered, his lips pressed in a thin line, suppressing his urge to further disrespect the High lord before him.

“Dismissed,” Rhys said coldly, his eyes blackened with power.

You stood still, unmoving as members of the council winnowed out of the meeting room without so much as a goodbye.

You couldn’t move, couldn’t breath. You were shocked, embarrassed and most of all, heartbroken. There was a feeling of wetness on your cheeks, and you raised shaking hands to touch them. Oh gods, you were crying.

A strong hand clasped your shoulder, shadows building around you, a blanket of privacy. You blinked up at Azriel who stared down at you, his hazel eyes glowing with rage from his confrontation.

“Let’s get out of here.”

You didn't have time to respond before the world folded before you, Azriel’s hold the only thing keeping you from breaking apart as you winnowed away.

————

You sat in your room, staring out at the city of Velaris with a drink in your hand.

You had rejected the many attempts of your family to comfort you after the debacle that was today’s meeting.

Azriel had immediately tried to comfort you when you arrived back in Velaris, but you dismissed him, saying you needed some space. His brow had pulled and it took him a moment, but he let you go, nodding in understanding.

Rhys had come to apologise, reassuring you it was all an act and that Keir would pay for what he said. But you left the lock on your door, and your High Lord eventually gave up.

Mor had even tried to distract you with some friendly girl-chat, but that didn't last long, you were distracted, staring off into the distant, only offering polite nods while she chatted away. She had left you to your drink with a kiss on your forehead, cursing her father.

You were ashamed. It wasn't that Keir had insulted you – he had insulted your late mother. She was one of Rhys’s spies, and had given her life to save the Nigh Court. Wearing the mask the rest of the Inner Circle so often had to wear, she had played the enemy, convincing the court while ultimately saving their lives. She had died a hero, and while your family knew it, it broke you to hear her name tarnished and spat on by the rest of them.

You swirled the drink in your hand before forcing the rest of it down, the amber liquid burning your throat as you begged it to take away the pain inside you. It wasn't enough – Keir’s voice rang in your ears, his vicious words turning to a roar you couldn’t ignore. You clutched at your head, trying to shake away the pain.

You stood suddenly, your heart pounding in your chest, tears brimming yet again. She had sacrificed herself to save a revolting pig like him, and he would never even know it.

It was too much. You felt too much, hurt too much. You wanted to be sedated, numbed from within. Before you thought twice, you had winnowed from the House of Wind.

————

Azriel looked at the clock, his hands laced in his lap, elbows resting on his knees. It was almost midnight. He had sworn to himself he would give you your space, but it was harder than he thought. You had looked so broken, so small after what Keir said at the meeting. An instinct had taken over when he saw your crumpled face.

He sat here now with his family as they discussed the result of the meeting. Surprisingly, Rhys hadn't given Azriel an earful for lashing out at Keir. Perhaps he understood the predatory instinct…

Mor, Cassian and Rhys were deep in conversation about politics of the council when the clock finally struck midnight. He had made it – the promise to himself to wait until midnight before checking in on you again. Azriel stood immediately, his family pausing their conversation and turning his way.

“Excuse me,” he murmured. “I’m going to check on Y/N.”

The others nodded, resuming their intense conversation, maps and notes sprawled across the table.

Azriel was soon at your door, his shadows desperate to seep through the cracks and find you. He kept them at bay, raising his hand and giving a gentle knock.

No answer.

Azriel tried again and waited. From the quiet of your room, he thought you might be asleep. He nodded to his shadows to check then, their darkness flowing beneath the hinged door to find you. They returned as quickly as they left.

“Gone,” they whispered to the Shadowsinger almost immediately.

Azriel’s cursed and turned the handle, surprised to find your door unlocked as it flew open. The fire had burned to an ember, and the ice in your glass by the window had melted. You had left, and you had been gone a while.

Rhys winnowed into your room, sensing the Shadowsinger’s distress. Mor and Cassian were close behind him.

“What is it?”

Azriel turned from the window, your glass still in his hand from inspecting it. “She’s gone.”

“Did someone take her?” Mor asked quickly.

“This house is warded,” Rhys said, reassuring his cousin. “She’s safe here.”

“Did she say she was going anywhere?” Cassian asked.

The rest of them shook their heads. “She wouldn’t speak to any of us,” Mor said quietly.

Azriel stared out at the window, his eyes narrowing as he did his best to guess where you were. The empty liquor bottle caught his eye, and he quickly put two and two together.

“She went to find more of this.” He held up the glass.

“We have plenty of liquor,” Mor countered.

“She went to find more alcohol, alone.” Azriel made his point.

“She was pretty upset,” Cassian agreed.

“Rightfully so,” Azriel grumbled, the rest of the group nodding in agreement.

“I’ll track her down,” Rhys said, his eyes glazing over as he tried to reach you mind to mind.

Azriel knew you better than the others, but even he couldn't say where you had gone for sure. This was so unlike you.

“I’ve found her,” Rhys announced, his eyes returning to their violet glow. “She’s in an altered state, it was hard to tell, but I’ve got a location.”

Azriel frowned. This was very unlike you. “Let’s go,” he said, unable to conceal his concern.

————

The music was loud, you could feel the thump in the floor and in your bones. You hummed, the sensation a wonderful distraction from the turmoil in your heart.

You were so very drunk – blissfully so. You swayed with the other partygoers, pressed against strangers on the dance floor as you let the music consume you, finishing yet another drink. You didn't wan’t to feel, to remember. You were here to lose yourself, forget who you are and melt into the setting around you. You wished you could disappear altogether, even if it was just for tonight.

A male approached you then, his eyes raking over your body as you danced, your muscles loose and free, an obvious sign of intoxication.

“Pretty girl,” he approached you, holding out his hand. You grinned slugishly, taking the hand of the stranger and letting him spin you.

He charmed you for the next few minutes, introducing himself and flirting with you as he escorted you to his booth. You laughed at his jokes, allowing yourself to be absorbed by the exciting and new interaction. This male at least had no idea of your past, and no idea at how broken you were inside.

“I want another drink!” you announced suddenly, interrupting his sentence. The male grinned down at you, his smile turning feline.

“Perhaps I can offer you something else.”

You looked at him with raised brows, watching him pull out a pipe of mirthroot. “Care for a smoke, pretty girl?”

You blinked up at the male. “I’ve never–“

“Don’t worry your little head,” he smiled keenly. “I’ll show you.”

He placed the pipe to his own lips, drawing slowly as smoke churned from the other end. He inhaled deeply, swallowing the smoke before letting it flow from his nose, eyes quickly glazing with relaxed content.

You grinned. This was exactly what you needed.

You reached for the pipe, copying the male before you and drawing a long breath. It hit you instantly, the lazy fog, the filter between your mind and the harsh realities of the world. It was the bliss you needed. It felt so good not to care, not to grieve.

Where are you?

Someone was knocking on your mental shields. You ignored the voice, drawing another puff from the pipe.

Y/N, where are you? The voice was more urgent now. Rhys.

You frowned, annoyed by the disturbance. Could you not get some time alone? You slammed your walls up as best you could, drowning out his voice and continuing with your fun.

“How do you feel?” the male before you asked, his smile lazy as he raked his eyes over you.

Your expression matched his, and you heard yourself giggle. “Delightful, actually.”

The music at the bar increased in tempo, and you had the sudden urge to dance. You pushed off from the booth, grabbing his hand as you made your back to the dance floor.

You had no idea how much time had passed, it could have been seconds or hours, there was no way of telling. You danced to your hearts content, with and without the male. The world swirled around you, your body heavy and light all at once as you sank further into the bliss, shedding the thoughts and feelings that haunted you so persistently.

That was, until you saw the peaks of Illyrian wings over the crowd by the bar entrance.

Crap.

It didn’t matter which one of them it was, you knew they were here to ruin your fun.

You ducked your head, doing your best to stealthily weave through the crowd to the far end of the bar. It was your altered state that convinced you you could escape unseen.

You had just finished apologising to a female for stepping on her toes, as you stepped backward into to something solid. No – someone.

Azriel stared down at you, his hazel eyes glowing in the dark lighting of the bar, arms crossed across his chest.

“Azzzz!” you slurred, a lazy smile plastered on your face as you greeted your friend sheepishly.

“Did you really think you could hide?”

You snorted, forgetting your quick mission to escape without your family seeing you. “To be honest, I did.” You grinned up at the brooding Illyrian, swaying slightly on your spot as you tried to focus the three Azriels you saw in front of you into one.

“Care to join me for a shot?” Your words were a string of slurs beyond your notice.

Azriel cocked an eyebrow, extending his hands to grasp your shoulders, steadying you from your constant sway. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Idunnoknow,” you slurred again, your eyelids heavy. “How much have you had to drink?”

Azriel frowned, leaning down to level his face with yours, his hazel eyes darting between your own. “Have you been smoking?” he asked, his tone concerned. You couldn’t help the roll of your eyes.

Azriel frowned deeper, looking past you at Rhys and Cassian who still lingered by the door. You saw him nod, dismissing his brothers as if to say he could handle this. Azriel’s eyes found yours again, and he levelled a look at you “Y/N, I think I should take you home.”

You scowled, your mood instantly flipping from playful to defiant. You pushed his hands off your shoulders. “M’not ready to go home,” you mumbled, turning back to the bar to secure your next drink. Azriel caught your wrist, spinning you back to face him.

“Y/N, listen, I know today was hard for you, but I can’t let you hurt yourself because of it. C’mon, let me take you home.”

It was as if Azriel had found the one string to pull in your heart, derailing all your efforts tonight to just forget. You scowled again, yanking at your arm roughly. You were furious.

“Why’d you come here Az? To remind me how miserable I am?” you spat.

Azriel blinked at you, his face one of shock. “No, of course not,” he said softly.

“‘Coz I was having a really good time before you showed up. I had almost forgot.”

Azriel’s brows pulled at you in sympathy, catching your confession. “Forgot what?”

You blinked, another scowl pulling on your face. “Don’t look at me like that,” you snapped, your words barely coherent. “Don’t want your pity.” You waved the male off, turning again, but Azriel held you firm in place.

“I’m not pitying you Y/N, I just want to help. Stop resisting love, let’s go home.”

It took all the fight you had to not give in. Deep down inside, you knew it’s what you needed. But as soon as you went home, you’d have to face everything you had bottled up until this moment.

“No!” you yelled, pushing the male back. Azriel didn't move an inch, instead he kept looking down at you with patience and sympathy, which you loathed.

“Is everything ok here?” It was the male with the mirthroot, his arm slinking over your shoulder as he stared at Azriel, catching your confrontation.

If looks could kill. Azriel’s hazel eyes were now black, his jaw ticking as he barely held the snarl ready at his lips.

“Everything’s fine,” you mumbled, slinking out from the male’s arm. He grinned at Azriel, enticed by the challenge. “Great. I was trying to find you should you care for another hit of the pipe?” He withdrew the mirthroot, offering it to you first this time.

You didn’t have a chance to reach for it before Azriel snatched your hand in his. “I think she’s had enough,” he seethed, his teeth bared as his shadows gathered into a thick, intimidating form.

You scowled back at Azriel. “I can make the decision for myself.”

Azriel raised his eyes back at you, the patience he had shown before gone in the face of the other male. You didn't have time to say another word before Azriel picked you up over his shoulder, stalking for the exit. You yelled, pounding weak fists on his back, the motion making you feel ill.

“I’m sorry love, but this is for your own good.” The next thing you knew, the world was folding around you in rips of winds, your hair ripping around your face as you shrieked in protest.

You felt the crisp air of the night before you saw it, Azriel setting you down in one of the many cobbled streets of Velaris. You were so close to hurling.

“Now was that so hard?”

You cursed at him, crossing your arms across your chest. How dare he grab you like that. “I hate you!” you glowered.

“Sure you do,” he replied cooly with a small roll of his eyes. “From one friend to another, you need water, and you need rest.”

You sighed, closing your eyes as the world around you spun. “I don't want to go home,” you whispered.

“Why?” Azriel asked, his voice softer now.

Your brows pulled in pain. “Because…” you trailed off, bringing your arms across your chest, hugging yourself as you tried to find the words. “Because I don't want to feel.”

Azriel approached you then, one hand steadying you on your shoulder, the other gently cupping your face. “Oh, Y/N,” he said with soft sympathy.

Your tears betrayed you, rolling down your cheeks at an uncontrollable rate. But you pushed his hands away – he wasn’t listening to you. “Please, Az. Don’t make me feel these things.”

Azriel’s heart broke at your plea. He reached for you again, using a gentle thumb to wipe away your tears before pulling you into his chest. “You’re not alone in this Y/N. C’mon love, you need to rest,” he said gently

You had no more energy, no more will to fight. You nodded, letting the Illyrian scoop you into his arms as he winnowed you back to the House of Wind.

You were surprised to find yourself in Azriel’s room and not your own. He placed you gently on your bed, summoning a glass of water and bringing it to your lips while he held the back of your head, not giving you the chance to refuse. You sipped at the liquid, looking up at the male that carefully drew the glass away once you finsihed.

You blinked up at the Shadowsinger. He had always been a dear friend, but never had you seen him so… attentive.

“Raise your arms.”

You scoffed. “Trying to undress me, Shadowsinger?” you teased, an alcohol-fueler confidence escaping you without control.

Azriel smirked, shaking his head. “Arms. Up.” The male pulled your dress off, and didn't so much as look at you before you felt a cool material being draped over your head. It was one of his black shirts, the fabric soft against your skin, his scent deep within the fabric. It instantly calmed you.

“W-where are?,” you stuttered, still slow to your surroundings. “Why are we in your room?”

“Two reasons,” Azriel said, folding your dress neatly to the side before kneeling in front of you, offering you a refilled glass of water. “Firstly, I don't trust you enough to not sneak out and do something really stupid. And secondly, you’re not in a good way, and I’m going to be here for you. You can stay with me tonight, if you want to of course.”

You blinked at Azriel, unable to process the fact that he was so considerate, so thoughtful. He offered you a soft smile, before pushing the glass you held up to your lips.

You finished drinking before taking a breath, Azriel’s hazel eyes unmoving as they watched you.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered softly, trying your best to speak through your haze.

“What for, doll?”

“For ruining your night.”

Azriel chuckled then. “You didn't ruin anything.”

You nodded, sniffing while trying to regain your senses. There was a beat of silence between you. “Keir is a prick.”

“He’s one of the worst.” You felt large hands gently caress your knees, grounding you before the anger and grief could overwhelm you again.

Another beat of silence.

“My mum gave her life for that prick.” The tears poured immediately, you had no chance of stopping them.

Azriel moved in fast, pulling you to his chest as he coddled you while you cried. “You’re mum was a hero. And you are just as brave.” he whispered into your hair, kissing your forehead before resting his chin on your crown. You clung to his arms while he rocked you, one arms pulling you in tightly while the other stroked your hair.

When you finally calm down, Azriel didn't say anything as he moved you into his bed, pulling the silk sheets over you before settling in at your side, his arms and wing draping over you in a comfort unlike anything else. Finally the world had stopped spinning, and you felt the slightest bit at peace.

Your eyes felt heavy, and you blinked, fighting the sleep that called you. Azriel frowned, running a gentle hand down the side of your cheek. “You can sleep, I’ll still be here when you wake.”

You turned on your side, looking up at the handsome and selfless male before you. What had you done to deserve someone like this in your life? Azriel pulled you in closer, his deep and slow breaths calming you as you closed your eyes.

“Az?”

“Yes love?”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

“Az?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Az?”

“Go to sleep, Y/N.”

You snorted, and then gasped as you felt him flick your nose in the dark. You giggled, settling further into the sheets and the arms of the Shadowsinger before drifting off to a calm sleep, knowing that you weren't ever alone.

--------

AN: Hope you enjoyed another angsty Az story!! Comment to join the tag list, love y’all <3

ACOTAR general tag list:@kennedy-brooke @cosmic-whispers @jazmin2211 @psychobookaholic

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azrielslightintheshadows · 6 months

Note

can i please request something with eris x reader where reader is the sister of Rhysand and she’s secretly meeting him and they’re in love and mated. She becomes pregnant and her instincts wants her closer to her mate so she finds every excise to go to the autumn court, claiming that since eris is a new high lord they need to make good connections. Rhysand tells her to stay there for a month and she leaves. Thst one month she fakes letters to them and tells everything runs smoothly when she knows that eris wouldn’t ever declare war against his mates home. Eris hates that she’s not with him and they decide to tell the inner circle. They’re angry at first but them reader explains that eris and rhysand are the same, wearing a mask. So they accept him when they see how extremely protective he is of her, defending her when rhysand yelled at her. They’re accepted and leave for the autumn court for the baby where she becomes high lady👀

Everything is going to be okay.

Eris x f!Reader

Masterlist.

Warnings; angst, swearing, mentions of death, clipping, abuse and sex

Okay I was really excited about this. Thank you for the incredible request. I hope you enjoy it!

Velaris was your home, and it wasn’t just the beautiful and peaceful city that made it your home, it was the people there… your family. You had barely escaped death, your mother was able to hide you and you had watched her and your sister howling in pain as their wings were ripped from their backs, you were almost caught when they chopped off their heads making you throw up. The noise caught the attention of one of the males, but you quickly placed your hand over your mouth and nose keeping you silent. You only left your hiding place when you heard your older brother’s -Rhysand’s deep and soothing voice, you ran into his arms crying and screaming. Sometimes when you are feeling scared or sad you can still feel the ghost of his hands, engulfing you tightly and his warmth keeping you safe.

The trauma never faded, especially for Rhys… he became paranoid about your safety and at some point, he even locked you in the house of wind, warding it so only Cassian, Azriel, Mor, Amren and he could get in or out. When Rhys was trapped under the mountain everything changed, you became the ruler of the court of dreams with your cousin’s -Mor’s help. You both worked hard day and night to keep Velaris hidden and the people safe, you both felt that you owed this to your brother who so selflessly traded his life for your freedom and happiness.

Then Rhysand came back, and took control of the Night Court again, but this time he noticed how strong you became and made you his emissary. That’s how you met your mate, the heir of the Autumn Court, the prince. He had come to Hewn city to make a bargain with your brother, and the moment he stepped in front of your brother’s throne and his eyes fell on you on Rhysand’s right side the bond snapped. You sent him a thankful look when he didn’t say anything and later that evening he found you alone, trapping you between his strong body and the wall. He cupped your face and snorted.

“A princess for the prince” he had said with a smirk.

You knew you had to stay away from him, you knew that if your brother ever found out he would lock you in the house of wind again and probably murder your mate slowly and painfully. But you couldn’t, you immediately saw through Eris’ mask, you could see how his eyes softened when he looked at you and how his hand trembled by the power he used to keep it from touching you. He showed you so much respect and affection that at some point made you wonder if he really was Beron’s son. Other than that, his looks didn’t help with staying away, the Autumn heir is a sight for sore eyes. Strong and sculpted body, sharp face decorated with the most beautiful amber eyes you have ever seen and full lips that look so soft and biteable. You craved him, you wanted to devour him. Every night you would dream about him, about the things you wanted him to do to you and when it all became too much you pulled the bond and sneaked out to find him. You kept meeting him secretly and after a few months you accepted the bond, asking Lucien to put a glamour on you so your family wouldn’t smell Eris’ scent on you and making him swear not to tell anyone. Lucien kept his oath and covered for you when you sneaked out to find his brother.

It had been a year since you accepted the bond when two things happened at the same day. Rhysand helped Eris kill Beron and you found out you were pregnant.

Eris was busy with his new duties and the night court was on lockdown until they figured what your mate’s plans were, so sneaking out to find him wasn’t an option anymore and your pregnancy making you yearn for your mate wasn’t helping at all. You were completely frustrated, and your anxiety had reached its peak, you knew that your baby bump would be visible in a few weeks, and you dreaded your brother’s reaction.

“I can send Mor there its too risky for you” Rhysand used his high lord’s voice as he spoke to you. “Are you kidding me? You want to send Mor to the Autumn Court? After everything that she went through?” you threw your hands up in the air and yelled.

“She forgave Eris a long time ago” Rhys argued.

“Our court’s relationship with the Autumn is fragile, if you send your sister there it’s a message of trust and respect. After all I’m one of your most trusted emissaries, you know that I will never betray you.” Your face was red, you were so frustrated, and your body shook with need. Need to touch your mate, to be close to him, to feel his warmth and affection. Your baby needed its father, and you wouldn’t let it down.

Rhys rubbed his face and sighed. “Okay, you are right. You will go there for a month, I expect you to write to me every Friday and if you sense something wrong you will come back immediately.”

You smiled and ran to him, hugging him tightly. “Thank you! I won’t let you or our court down” you promised and hurried off to pack.

After saying goodbye to everyone you winnowed right outside of the Autumn court’s palace, Eris was waiting at the gates a smile on his face as he saw you.

“Finally, Rhys wrote to me three hours ago” he rolled his eyes and smirked.

“I had to pack” you smiled and shrugged.

He took your bags and guided you to your room. The moment the door closed and no one could see you, Eris threw your bags on the bed and picked you up, spinning you around and kissing your neck. “I missed you so much little fox” he murmured between kisses.

“I missed you too my lord” you replied, and he growled at the new title. His arms tightened around you and the kisses became bites. “How do you wish to be taken little fox” he breathed and carried you to the bed.

“Wait” you gasped as he laid you down and crawled on top of you. He froze and kept himself higher, not a single part of him touching you. You always loved how respectful he is whenever you tell him to stop or wait.

“I want to tell you something” you continued, and he tried to stand up. You quickly grabbed his arm and pulled him down on you. “What is it baby?” he asked and stared at your eyes anxiously.

“We are not alone” you smiled, and he furrowed his eyebrows.

He watched as your hand grabbed his own and placed it on your abdomen, pressing slightly. He blinked, realization hitting him like a brick.

“Are you?” he whispered.

“Your heir is in there” you replied, your voice soft and filled with love. “My heir…” he repeated, and his thumb caressed your soft skin.

You teared up at the feelings he was shoving down the bond, happiness, love, pride and fear.

“Everything is going to be okay” you reassured him.

“Does your brother know?” he asked after the initial shock.

“Not yet” you replied, and he nodded.

He pushed your shirt up and moved so he was on the same level as your belly, he left small kisses there. “I will always protect you.” He glanced at you “Both of you”.

You spent the rest of the day in your room with Eris making love to you and worshiping your body.

He left early in the morning not wanting someone to see him and you pressed your head on his pillow, needing to feel his warmth and scent. His words kept replaying in your mind.

“I can’t wait for your belly to grow.” “Fuck you’re going to be so beautiful.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 🍁 🍂 ☁️˙✧˖°

You spent the rest of the days exploring the palace, getting to know Lady Autumn and the people there. Every night Eris would sneak into your room and stay there until the morning. The first Friday you wrote a quick letter to Rhysand explaining that Eris is way too busy handling the problems in his court to even care about the other courts. He responded quickly “Okay be safe, I love you”.

You felt guilty for lying to him, but every time Eris would come and lay his head on your belly, talking to the baby and kissing your soft skin your guilt would turn into anger. How could your brother not see the mask Eris wore? They were practically the same. You shouldn’t have to hide your mating bond just because Rhys doesn’t want to see the truth.

Next Friday came and you went into Eris’ office asking for his help to write the letter.

Eris seems to want to keep the peace between Autumn and Night for now.

You wrote and sent it to Rhys. The reply came a few moments later.

Find out his plans for the future. You can do this, I believe in you. I love you.

You sighed and stared at your mate.

“You know that I would never attack your court, right?” he asked with a frown. “Yes but I can’t say that to Rhys, he will ask me how I know that… what will I say? Because he is my mate and I’m pregnant with his child? I’m going to give him a heart attack!”

“I know but he will find out eventually” Eris sighed.

“Eventually” you repeated and sat on his lap, hiding your face in his neck.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 🍁 🍂 ☁️˙✧˖°

The month passed way to quickly and Eris watched as you packed your bags with a sad smile. His eyes stayed on your covered baby bump.

“Okay, I think I’m ready” you announced, and he growled.

His eyes became darker, his stare possessive and the candles in the room flickered.

“No.” he yelled “Enough with this shit. You will stay here by my fucking side as my wife and the mother of my heir! If Rhysand has a fucking problem with that then I will start a fucking war!” his voice was lethal as he spoke. The primal need to protect his mate and child taking over. You had never seen him look so feral and you took a step back.

“Baby calm down… please” you softly said.

“I can’t stand this anymore y/n. I want my mate by my side.”

“Okay then come with me. We can tell them together.” You offered your heart breaking by the sadness in his eyes.

He nodded and took your hand. You winnowed to Velaris and dropped in the house of wind. Eris glanced around curiously, and you both walked inside.

Cassian, Azriel and Nesta were sitting in the dining room all of their eyes widening as they saw Eris.

“What is he doing here?” Cassian growled while Azriel’s eyes unfocused, you knew he was calling Rhysand. Eris snorted but didn’t speak as you squeezed his hand.

You ignored Cassian and pulled Eris with you towards the table, you both sat down next to each other and waited.

“Y/n I asked you something” Cassian spoke again and stared at you.

“And I didn’t reply.” You shrugged “I’m waiting for my brother -your High Lord”.

Everyone kept staring at the two of you, Cassian and Azriel were gripping their daggers ready to attack if Eris made a wrong move. Your mate had a bored expression on his face, completely ignoring the two Illyrian warriors. His hand was holding your own tightly and his thumb was rubbing soothing circles.

Rhysand appeared a few minutes later with Feyre, he scowled when he saw Eris and moved gracefully to the chair at the head of the table. A statement.

“What’s going on?” he asked as everyone took a seat around the table, their eyes never leaving you and Eris. “Eris is my mate” you announced.

Feyre and Nesta gasped while Rhysand let a low growl.

“We found out the day he visited Hewn City to make the bargain with you. At first, we kept our distance, but the bond was so strong that I sneaked out to find him a few days later. We’ve been together ever since.”

You could see hurt flashing into Rhysand’s violet eyes and you sighed.

“No!” Rhysand snarled “I won’t let my sister get involved with a monster. His father abused his mother daily, and what do they say? Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree?”

Eris was seething and you stood up abruptly. “Are you serious right now? I didn’t expect you out of all the people to be so blind. Can’t you see that everything he does is a façade? You do the same fucking shit every time you visit Hewn city. Guess what… Eris doesn’t have a dreamy court where he can stay and be himself, he has to wake up every day and wear the fucking mask in order to keep his court from falling apart!” You were screaming so loud that your face became red and all the veins in your neck popped.

Eris cursed under his breath and got up too, he wrapped his arm around you and cupped your face with the other. “Can someone get her some fucking water?” he growled, and a glass appeared in front of him. “Its okay little fox, calm down” he whispered in your ear, leaving a kiss on your temple as he pushed your shoulders down making you sit.

“Rhysand” Eris spoke “I don’t care about your opinion, she is my mate and the laws of Prythian allow me to claim her, I’m only here because I care for her, and I don’t want her to lose her family.”

Rhysand scoffed. “I don’t care about the stupid laws, all the other High Lords will stand by my side. They will understand that I want to protect my sister.”

“Not when she is carrying my heir” Eris smirked.

“What?” your brother yelled and got up. His dark power was flowing into the room making you shiver. Cassian and Azriel jumped on their feet ready to support their High Lord.

Eris growled and a shield of fire appeared around you, leaving him defenseless against your brother.

Rhysand stared at the scene in front of him, he could see the worry in Eris’ eyes, not for his self but for you. He saw how your arm stretched to grab your mate and the shield pushed it back.

“Do you love her?” he asked.

“More than my heart can handle” Eris responded immediately, not a hint of hesitation.

“Do you love him?” your brother glanced at you. You nodded and let the tears flow.

“Do you swear to keep her safe and happy?” he asked Eris.

Your mate nodded and you saw a small tattoo appearing behind his ear. You watched as the rest of the inner circle nodded and relaxed.

“Okay. If I find out that you mistreated her in any way, I will let Azriel find you and do as he please”.

Eris scoffed. “You are welcome in my court to participate in the ceremony”.

Your mate paused and looked at you “I’m going to swear her in as my High Lady” he continued with a soft smile. You almost choked on air and stared at him with wide eyes.

Everyone smiled at that and suddenly the shield of fire dissolved and Eris offered you his hand.

You both walked out and you glanced at Rhysand one last time.

“ We will be there” Rhysand said.

Everything is going to be okay indeed.

I have received 11 requests and I'm so happy but also stressed. Please excuse any delay my poor brain can't make so many stories in one day!

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blackswan446 · 2 months

Text

partyisntover.

→ pairing: yan!kth x reader

→ "we could still dance"

→ wc: 1556

→ cws: drugging, kidnapping, slight sexual innuendos

→ notes: this is inspired by one of my favorite songs, specifically the first part "PartyIsntOver", it's by tyler, the creator, and i would recommend listening to (the whole song obviously cus its fire) but specifically PartyIsntOver before/while reading :) enjoy!

parties were like your safe space. it was a strange thing to say, but it was true. for some odd reason, you always felt more at home at a bustling party than your actual house. maybe it was something about the anonymity of parties, how for one night, you could become whoever you wanted, hide the vulnerable parts of yourself within the dim lights and use the alcohol as an excuse if things were to get out of hand.

or perhaps, you just liked the chaos. raised to be a good, studious girl, you didn't get out much for your entire childhood. everything was meticulous, planned out, by-the-book. there was no room for spontaneity, or a new adventure, or even a happy accident. it was nice for a while, having the assurance that nothing would ever go wrong, but after so many years of it, you grew sick of the blandness. it was then, you realized that describing your life as "calm" and "peaceful" was masking the sad reality of it: that your life was dull.

so, the second you left the house, (literally, the minute your parents drove away from your college), you went out and found something to do. that is, you walked into the first random celebration you happened upon while strolling, and you were hooked. now your life revolved around parties, and gatherings, and events, and any excuse to throw on a nice dress and do something fun with new people. and honestly? you wouldn't have it any other way. in a way, it felt as if your inner child was being healed, like you were finally fulfilling the dreams of a little girl who just wanted to have fun.

taehyung, on the other hand, hated parties. he despised the loud music, the drunk people and their sweaty bodies, thrashing around in a closed off space, forming a pit of body odor and bad decisions. not to mention the feeling of social inferiority that he felt when he was there, and the way he just stood around, drinking whatever poison was shoved into his hand by a drunk rando didn't help his case. yet he kept showing up, every single time, he always came back, for one reason.

you.

he couldn't explain it, but the two of you, you completed each other. the yin to his yang. and the two of you, together, would create the perfect balance that you needed, that he needed. hell, just looking at you, his heart was relieved of the negative emotions that came with the social ostracization. like the confidence and happiness that bloomed in your heart was sent to his, traveling by a long, invisible string connecting the two. he knew that it would take work, and the very type of meticulous planning that you grew to hate. he wasn't someone you'd even look at. but he had determination, a drive to achieve lifelong joy, the same type he felt whenever he looked at you.

of course, he had already started by removing the obvious disturbances to fate. he tore them up, burned some of them, dissolved others, and some of them he just buried. it didn't matter where they wound up, as long as they weren't stepping on the string, he didn't care. but they were all gone now, and he could undo the final loop, the one that stopped the string from drawing a straight line from you to him, the one that would finally make things so much clearer. of course, it was a little extreme, but taehyung always took precautions. he couldn't risk the string tangling up again, and how would that happen if there was nothing for it to get caught on?

spying you from across the packed room, you were holding a drink, in your element. somehow, the painful colored lights did wonders for you, the reds and blues giving your skin a purple hue. all he could do was look from the shadows, and wait to catch your eyes. and catch they did, as it was only a few minutes before they met, and with a smirk, approached you.

you could talk later, after all, you'd have all the time in the world to talk and get to know each other after tonight. for now, he just wanted to do what he had to do and get you both out of there. you smiled at him, giving him a shouted greeting. he smiled back and leaned down towards your ear. "the party isn't over yet. want to dance?" he offered, reaching out his hand to lead you to the dance floor.

you nodded, since it was too loud to give him an actual response, and took his hand. he smiled, and weaved through the mass of people holding you tight as he did so. you found yourself in a small corner of the dance floor, away from the large crowd of people in the center. you were surprised at him, since you had seen him around at a few parties, and never saw him dance or even talk to other people. but he wasted no time in grabbing your hips and swaying the both of you along with the music. not that you didn't appreciate his forwardness, you actually enjoyed it, and it didn't take long for you to follow his lead.

"good song, hm?" he asked, leaning down so far that his head was basically in the crook of your neck. you nodded shyly, the heat in your face hopefully being hidden by the colored lights. he gave a short, husky laugh in your ear, as his feet twisted up with yours. "sorry about that, i'm not the best dancer." he apologized. you smirked, turning around to face him. standing up to talk into his ear, you laughed back. "if you're such a bad dancer, then why am i out here with you?" you asked cheekily, smiling as you took a sip of your drink.

what a shame you were facing backwards that whole time. if you weren't, maybe you would've seen the little bag of white powder taehyung dumped into your drink. maybe you could've thrown out the drink, slapped him in the face, and gone home. what a damn shame.

he shrugged his shoulders. "you're taking a chance, i guess." he shouted back, grabbing your waist again and pulling you in closer to him. as your head hit his chest, you felt the room spin violently, too violently to match the level of alcohol you had drank that night. suddenly, the music felt too loud yet muffled and far away. the strobing lights were giving you a migraine, and your legs felt like wet spaghetti.

taehyung picked up on your weakness, right away, almost as if he were expecting it. "woah, okay. have a few too many, princess?" he joked, clasping his arms around you tighter. you shook your head, the idea of forming words and annunciating them too much for you to stomach. he laughed, shaking his head in amusement. "come on, you, let's get you out of here. come on." he told you, reaching his arm under your knees and scooping you off your legs, your drink falling from your limp hands and its contents spilling out onto the floor.

you tried to shake your head more, tell him you were okay, but your movement was too weak as everything in your line of vision began to bleed into one another. he laughed again, as he moved his way through the crowd, you heard the noise of the party fade away, the sound of his voice now amplified in your ears. it was only now that you could hear the darkness in his voice, finally being unveiled as the street lights shined above you.

"god, i can't wait to get you home. we're going to have some fun, aren't we?" he murmured, hands digging further into your legs as he struggled to open the door to his car. that was enough to send you into an adrenaline overdrive, shooting your head up as he laid you gently on the car seats. "huh?!" you sputtered, trying to grab for anything you could to fight back.

"i said, 'your night out is done'. you're drunk, sweetheart, you need to go to sleep, okay? just shut your eyes." he pleaded, standing in between your legs as he stroked your cheek softly. you shook your head, weakly, but you still did it, trying to kick your legs to get him away. he grabbed your calves, stilling the thrashing motions. "stop it. i need to bring you home." he growled, "i'm doing this because i love you."

you looked around helplessly as you struggled to comprehend what he said. "what?" you choked, as he shut the back door and got into the driver's seat. "nothing, princess. just go to sleep. it'll all be good when you wake up, okay?" he comforted, starting the ignition and driving away from the bustling house.

you could feel the strands of consciousness slip out of your hands, and felt yourself falling into the abyss of something deeper than sleep. the last remnants of a thought that you could piece together were ones of panic, and the last thing you could see as your eyes fell shut, was taehyung's glare in the rearview mirror.

#bts #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #yandere bts #yandere bts x reader #yandere taehyung x reader #yandere taehyung #taehyung x reader #bts fanfic #yandere #yandere v #kim taehyung x reader #fanfic #bts fic #yandere x reader

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brideofmbappe · 8 months

Text

Missing My Baby || Kylian Mbappé

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x reader

Raindrops pelted the windows as Kylian stared out, the pitter-patter echoing the rhythm of his racing heart. He had been restless, consumed by thoughts of you. The heated argument still played in his mind, the words exchanged and the raw emotions that had torn you both apart. He missed you terribly; the laughter, the shared moments, the love. Each day without you felt like an eternity, and his regret weighed heavily on him.

He poured himself into football, channeling his emotions onto the field.

The stadium lights illuminated the pitch, casting an intense glow that mirrored the fire within Kylian. As the opponents charged, he couldn't help but see them as an embodiment of his frustrations.

His movements were fueled by a mix of anger and determination. With each dribble, each pass, and each shot, he unleashed his inner turmoil upon the game. The ball seemed to be an extension of his emotions, driven with a ferocity that only he understood. Scoring felt like a release, a brief moment where the weight on his chest lifted.

But even as he dominated the match, a void remained. In between plays, his mind would drift to thoughts of you. He remembered the way your eyes lit up when you saw him, the soft touch of your hand in his, the countless memories that now seemed distant. The cheers of the crowd were a bittersweet symphony, a reminder of how much he had to prove – not just to them, but to himself as well.

Practice was both a sanctuary and a battleground.

Kylian pushed himself harder, the physical strain helping to momentarily overshadow the emotional pain. Yet, there were moments when he faltered, his concentration slipping as your name echoed in his thoughts. He would catch himself, frustration and sadness clashing within him.

The other players noticed the change, the usually happy Kylian appearing somewhat distant and preoccupied.

Nights were the hardest. Exhausted from training and the game, Kylian would return home, hoping to hear your voice, to share the events of the day as he had done countless times before. He would step into the shower, allowing the water to cascade over him, masking the tears that mingled with it. He would close his eyes and for a fleeting moment, imagine that you were there, that the distance between you had vanished. But reality always came crashing back, a cruel reminder that he was alone.

In those moments, the emptiness felt suffocating. The arguments, the regrets, the echoing silence – they all merged into an overwhelming ache that refused to subside. He would call your name softly, almost expecting you to respond from the next room.

The loneliness would settle in, a heavy weight that seemed impossible to escape. And as the water spiraled down the drain, so did his tears, carrying away some of the pain but never truly washing it all away.

But Kylian wasn't the only one struggling.

You had been grappling with the aftermath of the argument as well. The silence between you was deafening, and the emptiness in your heart was unbearable. Every corner of your life seemed to remind you of Kylian, the joy he had brought, and the love you had shared. Each night was filled with tossing and turning, your thoughts consumed by his absence. His words during the argument had cut deeper than you had ever anticipated. The pain was etched into your every thought, replaying his hurtful phrases over and over again.

You found solace in the little pieces of him that remained. Clinging to his pillow, you would bury your face in it, desperately inhaling the lingering scent that was uniquely his. It was a bittersweet comfort, a connection to a time when you were intertwined in each other's lives. But nothing couldn't fill the void he had left behind, and it certainly couldn't mend the shattered pieces of your heart.

Nights turned into days, and days turned into weeks, but the ache persisted. You moved through life like a ghost, a mere shadow of the vibrant person you once were. The laughter that used to flow so easily now felt like a distant memory. The world had lost its colors; everything seemed to be draped in shades of gray.

Sometimes, in the midst of your loneliness, you swore you could hear his voice. A whisper carried by the wind, a faint echo in an empty room. Your heart would skip a beat, hope sparking briefly before reality crashed down again.

You would find yourself turning around, half-expecting to see him standing there, that familiar grin on his face. But it was always a cruel trick of your imagination.

Part of you longed to reach out, to bridge the gap that had formed between you two. But another part of you held back, afraid of being hurt again, afraid that things might never be the same. The battle waged within you, tearing at your insides and leaving you feeling utterly lost.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. The pain had become a constant companion, an unwelcome guest in the house of your heart. You often wondered if life would ever regain its vibrancy, if you would ever find the strength to forgive or move on.

The uncertainty was suffocating, and you clung to the memories of what once was, hoping that someday, the wounds would heal and you would find a way to piece together the fragments of your shattered heart.

On a rainy night, the sky's tears seemed to mirror the emotions in both your hearts. The doorbell rang, interrupting your thoughts. With cautious hope, you opened the door to find Kylian standing there, soaked to the bone but with a determined look in his eyes. In his trembling hands, he held a bouquet of white roses.

His voice cracked as he began to speak, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I've missed you so much. I can't stand not talking to you. I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry for what I said. It was all my fault, and I wish I could take it back. I regret it all, every word, every moment we've spent apart. I can't bear to be without you. I've been dying to see you, to hold you, to tell you how much you mean to me."

Tears mingled with raindrops on his cheeks as he poured out his heart, his emotions laid bare. The sight of Kylian, usually composed and strong, brought a pang of sympathy to your heart. You couldn't stand to see him like this, broken and vulnerable.

"Kylian," you whispered, your voice a mixture of forgiveness and understanding. "I've missed you too." And with those simple words, the dam holding back your emotions cracked, and tears streamed down your face as well.

Without another word, Kylian pulled you into his arms, his grip strong yet tender. The scent of rain and his cologne filled the air as his embrace melted away the days of distance. The world seemed to fade around you both as he lifted your chin, his eyes locking onto yours.

His lips met yours in a kiss that spoke volumes - a kiss filled with longing, regret, and a burning desire to make things right. It was a kiss that rekindled the fire that had been smoldering within you both. Slowly, he pulled away, his forehead resting against yours as his thumb wiped away the remnants of tears from your cheeks.

"I've been so deprived of your touch ma belle," he admitted, his voice a mixture of husky desire and vulnerability. Without breaking eye contact, he scooped you up in his arms, effortlessly lifting you off the ground. A surprised laugh escaped your lips as he carried you, your heart pounding with a mix of joy and relief.

As he ascended the stairs, each step brought you closer to a reunion you had both been craving. He set you down on the bed, his hands running over your body as if he were memorizing every inch. You could feel him trembling, his breathing coming out ragged as he looked at you, his eyes dark and intense.

You reached for his shirt, pulling it off his shoulders, eager to see him again. He leaned forward, pressing soft kisses along your collarbone, and you felt yourself melt under his touch. His lips brushed against yours, his tongue slipping between them.

You moaned softly, kissing him back, eager for more. His hands slid up your waist, his fingers brushing against your breasts, causing your nipples to harden. Your hands moved to his belt buckle, undoing it with ease, eager to get at his flesh. He stepped back, watching you intently, his eyes dark and hungry.

You could tell he wanted to rip your clothes off, but you weren't about to let that happen just yet. You smiled mischievously as you slowly undid his pants, pulling them down to reveal his boxers.

His cock strained against the fabric, and you couldn't wait to see it again. You ran your hand up the length of his shaft, feeling him throb in response. You gently tugged at his boxers, sliding them down his legs, exposing his cock, already glistening with precum. You looked in his eyes as you took it in your hand, stroking it gently.

He groaned, his eyes closing as he savored the sensation. You kissed his tip, swirling your tongue around the head, tasting him. He gasped, his hands tangling in your hair, pushing you harder against him. You moaned, loving the feel of his cock in your mouth.

You began to bob your head up and down, taking him deeper and deeper, sucking on him like crazy. His hips thrust forward, meeting your motions, urging you to take more. You looked up at him, a smile playing across your face. "Oh yes," you heard him whisper. "That feels so good." You smiled, moving faster, wanting to bring him to climax.

You felt him tense, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he held you close. You kept going, determined not to stop until he came. You felt him explode in your mouth, his cum filling your throat. You followed Kylian's lead as he guided you towards the bed, both of you eager to finish what he had started.

He lay you gently onto the soft sheets, and then knelt between your legs. He spread them wide, inviting him into you. He took you with one long stroke, burying himself deep inside you. You threw your head back, arching your body towards him, your muscles tightening around him. He groaned, his teeth nipping at your neck. Your nails dug into his back, marking him.

Kylian pounded into you hard, making you cry out again and again. He was close, and you knew it. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him even deeper into you. "Oh fuck, yes!" you cried, your body convulsing as you came. He groaned, slowing his pace, but never stopping. You clung to him, feeling every inch of him buried inside you.

You couldn't get enough of him. Finally, he gave one last thrust and collapsed on top of you, his body still shaking. You could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He kissed your shoulder, breathing deeply. You turned your head and kissed him softly. "I love you so much mon amour," he said breathless. You smiled, stroking his cheek.

"I love you too kyky."

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codemiracle · 7 months

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Can you please tell me the backstory of the ocs...they are so gorgeous omg...thank u !!!...

My first ask... omg....!! (tries to seem calm about it) Thank u for asking!!! I'm glad you like them :((<3 The backstory of my ocs is still mostly a wip even to me (i change my mind often about things, especially when my mind fixates on different topics) But I can tell you more about the two ocs in this post here. tw: mentions of death, stalking, unhealthy behavior, dark stuff overall, and mentions of self-harm on Yuuta's part. (All of the images used here are CGs for the game.)

Yuuta is a deeply troubled person. His mother died when he was very young and he's been dealing with the loss of literally his only parental figure since (his father is literally the leader of a pyramid scheme cult and doesn't know about his existence) He despises how fragile humans can be and since then he tries to understand his own mortality through inflicting pain upon his own body. His mother died due to an illness he also has, an illness that causes parts of his body to suddenly get badly bruised or bleed without warning, his blood is really thin so stopping bleeding is hard for him too. He eventually finds some escape from his solitude exploring his darker side by meeting the MC (the character you control in the game) He gets deeply obsessed with them since he finds that inflicting pain on them (don't worry it's all consensual) is more relieving than doing it to himself. He loves the feeling of power it gives him, the feeling of a life hanging in between his fingers. And this time he won't let go so easily. He might be a little bit of a sharp-tongued person and sometimes can seem pretty harsh with people and even the MC, but it's due to the fear of losing someone again. When he really really gets into you he won't let you go, that's for sure. He can't let go of someone again.

Yotsuya it's quite the opposite of Yuuta, he doesn't hide his true feelings behind a mask of hatred and coldness, instead, he's a more shy but polite person, much more pleasant to be around tbh. But don't let that fool you. He has his own inner turmoil too. He's been following the MC for a while now (for unknown reasons) and seems pretty fixated on them, taking the same train as them after work, trying to make small talk as they bump into each other in conveniently the same places. He's always stressed from work, often you can find him just crying outside his workplace while he smokes (like in the drawing) or standing eerily quiet in the dark of night in the middle of the street. Not much is now about Yotsuya, but the fact he truly despises cheaters, often making remarks about cheating culture and hating on people who cheat on their partners. He seems to know the MC from somewhere else but refuses to say where they met the first time. Doesn't seem to have any connections or family, living alone in some simple apartment. I can't tell you much about him because I want you to discover who the "True" Yotsuya is (that's the point of his route.) But I can tell you, this guy isn't anything like it seems, he's quite the opposite of his sweet and shy persona when he's inside his home. That's his place, his playing field so to speak. He's no longer the meek office worker, but his true self.

Sorry, that was so much text.... and I feel like I didn't say anything interesting... feel free to ask if you need to know anything else!

#ask #yandere boy #yandere oc #original character #original art

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maccreadysbaby · 6 months

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Do you still do writing tips?? Cause I need tips on writing a child (12/13) who’s been trained to be living weapon their whole life??

OH MY GOD YES. I LOVE YOU.

this is a massive post I’m sorry

Writing a Child Who was Raised to be a Weapon

tw just for abuse, eating disorders, and the like mentioned below

NOW. This is one of my favorite archetypes used in modern media, if you couldn’t tell by my batfamily oc insert (little mister was-only-kept-alive-to-destroy-bruce-wayne. hi there, bentley, love you!)

While this is a very compelling and interesting type of character to create and flesh out, it’s easy to brush over some of the inner dialogue and thought patterns these children would have, because most people irl don’t have them. (Unless you were raised as a super assassin, in which case, please don’t kill me, and I love you)

The bottom line is, the characters entire personality and dynamic with other people relies on what background you give them. And that’s where I come in! Hi, I’m maccreadysbaby, and I’m going to propose some of the routes you can take in writing these cute little (deadly) guys!

COMMUNICATION ↴

none of these children are going to communicate normally, because they aren’t normal. they weren’t raised with a family, or good support system. they might:

be terrified of others. slow to trust. especially if you’re writing a child who was abused when they failed. for example, my oc, bentley, was horrified to be in proximity with any of bruce wayne’s family because he was afraid they would hurt him like his father did. he was afraid to cry in front of them, afraid to admit he was tired or sick or scared, afraid to ask for help, afraid to speak first, because it was all things he’d gotten punished for before. they might also have a terrible relationship with failure, because failure brings pain, and could potentially crumble if they fail or think they’re going to fail whatever they’re doing. (a mission, an assassination, or simple things like a school test or a task someone asked them to complete.) maybe they’re really good at holding it together and pretending they aren’t scared, but after all, they’re just kids. the cracks in their mask are gonna show one way or another.

shut people out. this could be from fear, or from being taught relationships are bad and makes them weak and vulnerable. they might not communicate because they don’t want to have another potential weak spot. they might keep their distance, stay quiet, not come out often. they might come across as cold and heartless, but it’s really them just trying to protect themselves, be it from pain, from the idea of eventual heartbreak, etc. but there is a problem with shutting people out, and it’s that they’re also shutting themselves in, like a prison. kids who choose to shut people out and bottle up everything they feel are slightly more prone to emotional outbursts and breakdowns. especially if they’re fairly young.

learn different ways to communicate, such as sign language, their actions, body language, etc. they won’t do it like everybody else and that’s okay! you can take so many liberties with this. maybe they make origami swans and leave them on the nightstands of people they decide they like. maybe they highlight lines in books and leave them places to tell someone how they feel. maybe they’re an absolute little jerkhole that’s mean to everyone because they weren’t taught how to do it any differently. maybe they’re insanely submissive people-pleasers that do everything asked of them because they were created to take orders. the possibilities are endless. go on an adventure!

be overly trusting. you typically see this in characters on the younger end of the spectrum, but you can drag it up into teenagers, too. a child that’s been abused or suppressed in any way, physically, emotionally, or mentally might decide they wholeheartedly trust the first person who is nice to them, who doesn’t cause them pain. there might even be a little bit of lag time between the meeting and the kindness and the trusting, but when it comes, it comes full force to the face. they’d trust these people to protect their lives and might even cling to them, or run to them as an escape from whoever raised them. (assuming they are afraid of the people who raised them.) they might even allow themselves to open up and become more than just a human weapon in the presence of these lucky folks.

believe that they’re superior to everyone else. obviously they are a higher class, a finer type of person. they can kill in seconds, they’re a master at martial arts, they can have an adult wrapped around their finger within the first minute of meeting them, they can make a person cave with a single sentence, they’re just better. better than all these civilians who let their emotions get in the way, who let other people walk all over them and boss them around. they’re too good for that. this is also a great one to add in some angst. arrogance and pride are often founded on the feelings of uselessness, worthlessness, or that they can’t (or don’t deserve to) be loved. it’s like a defense mechanism. no one likes me — obviously it’s because of my blindingly obvious superiority. they’re so much better that they don’t need love, kindness, care. (but yes, they actually do. they’ll probably break down crying or throw someone across the room the moment it’s given because it opens their eyes to the fact that they’re literally freaking starving for it like they haven’t eaten in their entire lives. my GOD give these kids a hug.)

FOOD ↴

i know this seems random, but it’s something you need to know about your character because it heavily impacts their mental state, mannerisms, energy, and health. chances are being raised as a weapon, they won’t have a stable relationship with food or eating. here are some examples of how you could make them!

refusing to eat. if your child character has had bad experiences in the past regarding food, such as someone using food to manipulate them (if you don’t do this you don’t get food.), torture them (purposefully feeding them something that makes them sick or have an allergic reaction, even poisoned food.), or if there are bad memories tied to eating (always getting fed before terrible missions, or before days locked somewhere, torture sessions, punishments, etc.) your child may not want to eat at all. after all, these are still just kids and they’re going to try and avoid everything that can trigger negative feelings, memories, or circumstances. if food is one of them, your other characters are probably going to have to help reassure them that they can eat and need to (if they’re in the presence of nice characters.) if you’re wanting to go a more severe route, you can even write them getting diagnosed with anorexia (an eating disorder that heavily involves not eating at all.) but of course, you don’t have to. (i didn’t.) just remember, they are growing kids and are going to be hungry whether they like it or not. but they will try to hide it if hunger has been used against them, which is a good point for hurt/comfort writing, since hunger can cause anything as small and embarrassing as their stomach growling loudly in front of everybody to severe stomach cramps (like your organs being tied in a terribly tight knot), vomiting, and fainting. all things considered, you can take a more severe route, or just write about them working with the help of friends to get up to a better food intake level and higher weight.

struggling to eat. if your child has not been fed properly for most or all of their lives, and then are put into a homelife where they have food at their disposal, they still might struggle with it. (for example, my character, bentley, was severely starved by his father for the first ten years of his life and when he gets put into a new home, he struggles to eat much at all and sometimes feels sick when he eats ‘too much’, even though he should be eating more in general.) of course, this comes with a host of complications and all the symptoms that come with malnutrition, not to mention that they won’t even be close to the size they’re supposed to be. (bentley was the size of a 6-7 year old at the ages of 9&10.) this is similar to the last bullet point in the sense that you can go the more serious anorexia route, or the kind people helping them stay on track route

over-eating. this one is more common for youngsters who didn’t have access to food most of their lives, but it wasn’t used against them or withheld from them by another person. (a good example would be a child trained in an area where people routinely don’t have access to food.) this is highly derived from food insecurity, where they think they have to eat everything they’re given because they don’t know when they’ll eat next. (this can also be used for characters in the bullet point above.) this also can cause health issues and routine sickness. (for example, my character, asten (11yrs), who lived in a poverty stricken part of his city and barely ate outside of school, routinely eats himself sick when he has access to food because he’s been starving without it.) this food insecurity can also lead to extreme emetophobia (fear of vomiting) because they don’t want to lose what they do have in them, which can pose a massive problem when this child is either so empty or so full that they need to throw up. so, if they’re put into a household where they have access to food, it might be a constant stream of stomach aches and nights spent in the bathroom while the person helps reassure them that they will always have food and they don’t have to eat it all now. (sorry this is gross but it needs to be said.)

here is a drabble that i wrote recently involving a malnourished child due to poverty, with his internal dialogue and thought processes, if that will help any of you.

ANXIETY / PTSD ↴

oh boy. these kids will have it, given how they’ve been raised. the question is in how they treat it and deal with it.

hiding it. maybe they were trained to see fear and anxiousness as weakness. the flinch when someone moves too fast, the tightness in their chest at a certain noise, the inability to breathe if they see someone’s face, they’re going to hide it because their fine and they’re tough. no one has to know that they have nightmares every night and cry when they’re alone. you can even extend this into anxiety/asthma/panic attacks that they keep hidden. (typically by leaving social settings when they feel it coming on.) no one has to know that they’re so weak. they might lash out in anger or irritation if they’re routinely asked if they’re okay because they need these people to back off before they fall apart in front of them. they might have little mannerisms that other people might notice for calming or showing anxiety, like biting their nails, bouncing their leg, pinching themselves, quietly doing breathing exercises, etc. PTSD will come more like nightmares and anxiety attacks and flashbacks, and they can’t always hide those no matter how much they want to. the severity of anxiety and PTSD depends on how graphic you make their backstory. (for example, my character, bentley, has nightmares of being abused, which he breaks down crying after. in his instances, he’s never alone. similarly, he once started crying when he saw christmas decorations similar to those his abuser used to have, and he has his first anxiety attack when he sees his abuser in public) you can keep the character secretive about it or let them have a big old breakdown in front of someone else, your choice.

not hiding it at all. if they’re with someone they trust, they might just let loose. (that’s what happened to bentley once he learned his new family didn’t care if he looked weak and wanted to help him) they might tell someone when they’re feeling scared or anxious or bad in any way. they might just cry right in front of them when they have to and have attacks with someone close and all the things because they’re not alone anymore and these people want to help. it might take a while for them to get to this point, and no one blames them. (for example, bentley was really anxious for school so he went to his new guardians room in the middle of the night) and remember, any steps these kiddos take closer to asking for help is HUGE! make sure your other characters encourage them and let them know they’re proud for reaching out :)

keep in mind that if they’ve never been talked to about it, they might have no freaking clue what’s going on if they have an attack of some sort, and will probably need someone to explain to them what’s going on and that they aren't going to die.

Thanks for coming to my ted talk! If you have more specific questions send them in anon!

#creative writing #writing #writing help #writing angst #writing tips #character tips

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thewickedspinster · 10 days

Note

Cassian x reader. We all know dancing isn’t cassian’s forte, however maybe he learns and catches reader off guard with some of his new skills (even) if he isn’t perfect.

The Idiot

a/n: crying at this btw. literally a dream i had once.

warnings/content: keir's sexism, platonic az x reader, fem! reader, language probably, cassian's dancing bc OOF, masquerade trope bc it's FUN ok

The Idiot

If she had to deal with one more obnoxious male approaching and asking for her hand, Y/N was going to lose it.

The Court of Nightmares had never been her favorite place. As the younger daughter of Keir, lord of the infernal realm, she had known it all too well for most of her life. By now, the heady drumbeats, slinking fae, and ears in the stone walls made her shudder.

Luckily, she spent plenty of time above the surface. Though she had stayed in the court under the mountain for several decades longer than her sister, Y/N had finally escaped her father's slimy grip and joined her cousin above ground. As a member of the Inner Circle, she had breathed fresh air the first. She had learned to live, and she had learned to fight differently than ever before. Now, as Rhysand's chief diplomat, she had a place that was more than just her sex. A family more than the one she'd been born into.

Yet, each Solstice, these visits to her father's domain were obligatory. A show of good faith, if you will. And yet each year, Keir put on a show that made Y/N's skin crawl. It was the dark side of the dreamer's world that Rhysand had created. It was a dark side that was necessary to maintain the peace, no matter how much Y/N wished it destroyed.

Tonight's party was no different. Rhysand and Feyre lounged on their thrones, heads leaned together as they surveyed their dominion. In all honesty, it wasn't much to behold. Drunk fae crowded together on the ballroom floor, courtly dances forgotten for the preferred grinding and undulating of the underground folk. This wouldn't be so bad, honestly, had Y/N not experienced being a young female here. But those memories of being treated like chattel were impossible to forget.

Her only saving grace was the mask perched upon her face. Though it was clear who she was, to the untrained eye, she was just another noble female of the abundant court. While it attracted more males to her side, she had an easier time turning them down. And an easier time avoiding her father, who lurked in the shadows somewhere beyond the High Lord and Lady's thrones. Which was for the best, because he would surely comment on her presentation in night court black, with mother of pearl weighing down her skirts and the mask on her nose. The creamy white was even scattered through her hair, marking her as someone important, but someone forgettable. That was how she'd prefer to stay.

She felt a gentle nudge, barely there, against her shoulder. Without turning, she knew who was there.

"Anything interesting happening behind the scenes?" She asked, still facing the dance floor.

"Nothing you'd want to know about," came Azriel's low reply, laced with a chuckle. "Plenty of sex. And plenty of fear."

"Can practically smell it."

"It reeks," he agreed. "Rhys does that."

She snorted. "It's because they don't trust in Keir to lead them that they fear Rhysand."

"Don't let anyone else hear you say that. They'll mutiny." Y/N was always able to bring out the smirk in Azriel. They got on well that way, and worked even more closely together than Az did with Cassian. Together, the three of them were an unstoppable team.

Observing the rolling mass of bodies, inhaling the stench of faerie wine and sweat, Y/N sighed. "Just wish it were less hedonistic down here. Not that our lives are particularly savory, but just..."

"It feels too heavy and forced down here," Azriel said gently, stepping up to her side and slipping his arm through hers. "Like they're made to do it. Like they relish in the pain that Keir brings them."

She drew him close. "They probably know no different," she murmured.

A moment of silence passed as they watched the crowd, as they observed their friends across the cavernous space. Then, Azriel said, "I'd ask you to dance, but I just don't think this is your style."

She barked a laugh. "Not quite, no."

Though not as talented as Nesta Archeron, Y/N had been trained as a young female to dance in the classic ballroom style, to a formal orchestra and before a crowd housing endless royalty. She'd been made to dance more than once before Rhysand's father, who had relished in forcing Keir's daughters to perform for him. It did not bring back good memories, but she had enjoyed the movement. She found moments of rhythm and dance even now, in her training above ground. She had never forgotten the feel of the music sliding against her bones, and she hoped she never would.

The minutes ticked by. In rotation, the Inner Circle floated past Y/N, checking in. Azriel departed, and Mor soon after approached, cup of mead in hand for her sister. Y/N took it gratefully, and the two damned princesses stood, shoulder to shoulder, observing the dark splendor. Finally, finally, the evening was drawing to a close, It had been hours, and Rhysand had finally shifted in his seat, signaling he would soon stand to leave. But just before he could, the floor cleared.

Still at her post opposite the thrones, Y/N glanced around, gauging the crowd. They had withdrawn bowed, as if they'd been ordered, but they chattered nervously. Clearly, something was meant to happen. Whether Rhys and Feyre knew or not, Y/N couldn't judge from their expressions.

From the crowd, he stepped. Crimson siphons gleaming, scaled armor traded in for soft formal leathers, hair soft and eye gleaming, General Cassian of the Night Court armies stepped forth, hand held aloft.

His eyes met none but hers.

Y/N stared back at him, a breathless laugh escaping her lungs. "Cass?"

"Don't make me look an idiot, Y/N," he said, a smile hiding the nerves that shone through his hazel eyes. "Come dance with me."

"But -"

"No buts," he said. "Just c'mere."

Y/N couldn't believe what she was seeing. Cassian had been missing in action all night, and now he was asking her to dance? Before the entire court? She had never seen him dance, and she'd probably laugh if she had. He was famous for his two left feet, and his fumbling compliments. She would know better than anyone else; as his best friend, his confidant, his partner in politics, she knew him better than most. And she'd thought she'd known him better than to ever expect him to ask her to dance.

Yet, as her closest friend, the one that understood her to her core, Cassian knew she would never say no to him.

As he stood before her, crooked grin on his face, hand outstretched, he watched her flounder only a moment before she straightened and laid her hand gracefully in his. Her grin matched his own.

"Better not trip me, Pigeon."

Cassian didn't have the chance to respond as the orchestra struck up the song he'd chosen for this moment. The prelude began, and ever proper, Y/N withdrew to drop into a low curtsy, her black skirts spread over the marble floor. Cassian bowed low at the waist, though his eyes never left hers. Hidden there, in their depths, was laughter.

The first movement began, and Cassian took Y/N by the waist and swept her into the dance. A waltz-like thing, it sent them spinning and gliding across the entirety of the floor, which had been cleared entirely. The whole court was watching them, and yet Y/N could only see him.

"I always thought it was strange how people talked when they danced," said Cassian lowly, "but now I think I get it."

"No one can hear us out here," she agreed. "Perfect for sharing secrets. Like where you learned to do this?"

He sent her spinning, and her trained feet knew the steps well. After a moment, she came back to him. He stumbled, but only just. "Well, Mor told me how you'd learned, and I know how much you hate it here." He shrugged. "I figured I'd try to make this Solstice visit memorable for you. In a good way."

She smiled up at him, eyes crinkling. "I mean where you learned to dance. Don't think all that training adds up to this."

At this, he turned pink. "I asked your sister to teach me."

A laugh bubbled up, unstoppable. "How long did that take?"

"Only about three months."

"Cassian!!" She cried in disbelief.

"Listen," he chuckled, giving her another spin. By this point in their talking, he'd already stepped on her feet more than once, but she could not bring herself to mind in the least. "I wanted to learn! And maybe I'm terrible at dancing, but I did learn this little number."

"I'm proud of you," Y/N complimented, leading him through the next few steps with a gentle hand. She turned serious "And thank you, Cass. Really. You -" She paused, swallowed. "You don't know what it means."

The orchestra (conveniently) slowed, flowing into the second movement of the piece, and they followed suit. They moved with the gentle fluidity of a mountain stream, and Cassian pressed his forehead to hers.

"I want to," he whispered, just for her. "I want to know everything that goes on in that pretty head. I want to know you, Y/N."

Y/N took pause. She and Cassian had been the best of friends for centuries. They had been constant companions during Rhys's fifty years Under the Mountain. And despite it all, she had hoped against hope that perhaps someday, his feelings would blaze to life like hers had. That he could see her as she saw him - everything.

"You can't just say those things," she breathed with a nervous chuckle.

"Don't tell me what I can't say, Y/N," Cassian said, will everstrong. "You know exactly what I mean."

"How could you possibly think I know what you mean?" She countered, put off by his tone. "If I've ever -"

"Elain told me," he interrupted. "How you feel about me."

Y/N gasped, her chest closing in on itself in panic. Elain was a close friend, one who was usually a vault when it came to secrets.

"She didn't mean to," Cassian amended quickly. "Azriel got her too drunk at Rita's one night, and she started talking." He shook his head, cursing. "I shouldn't have fucking said a thing. Look, if I've got this wrong -"

"No!" She blurted, before thinking. She recovered, but barely, as the dance picked up once more. "No, she's right. I'm just surprised she said anything, is all."

"... She's right?"

With as much confidence as she could muster, heart pounding, chest aching, Y/N straightened in his grip and said, "Yes, she is. As much as this could fuck up everything, I have loved you since you saved my sister. Maybe even before. And I was so lucky to have you as my friend that I couldn't bear to say a word for fear of losing you."

A slow, hesitant smile on his rugged, handsome face. "You love me?"

He tripped, his foot catching on her dress, and stumbled. He was laughing before he could right himself, and they both gave up the steps of the dancing, holding each other before the entire Court of Nightmares.

"Yeah, idiot, I do," she confirmed.

"I love you," he breathed, palm rising to cradle her cheek. "Have for not as long as you, but long enough for it to hurt."

"And long enough for you to learn to waltz."

His laugh echoed around the chamber, booming even over the music. The orchestra continued on, playing into the conclusion of the piece. Their time on the floor had felt like an eternity wrapped in a heartbeat, where truth suspended time like water.

"Long enough for me to learn to waltz," he repeated. His mask had been abandoned long ago, forsaken for the sweat it gathered. With brazen sureness, he lifted Y/N's mask, setting it atop her immaculately decorated head, and murmured, "I'm gonna kiss you now, Y/N/N. Don't make me look an idiot."

"You've never been an idiot, Cass, and I certainly won't make you one now."

And when his mouth met hers, it was chapped and raw and warm and strong. Everything she had always loved about him, she tasted on his lips, his tongue. Everything she had wanted to be protected by, she felt in the strength of his hand around her waist. Everything she had wanted to keep safe, she heard in the soft sound that fled his throat. In the gentle murmur of her name repeated back to her against her flesh.

Cassian couldn't dance for shit, but he was no idiot. He knew love when he held it in his two hands. He knew to cherish it close.

#cassian x reader #acotar #cassian acotar #platonic!azriel x reader #fem!reader #fluff #this is so sickening i could throw up #acotar fanfic

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