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#cold and you tell me to fight you and you know there is still blood in my mouth from last year / we will always be tied by our inhumanity
microcosmtoxin · 5 months
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know its for the better
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prompt: who did this to you? tell me now.
summary: when you end up getting hurt while out, you make it back home, but just barely.
genre: angst, hurt/comfort
characters: alastor, lucifer
warnings: talk of fighting, abuse, broken bones and getting hurt, being stabbed. essentially you’re hurt and they respond to you being hurt. blood and medical care by the characters too.
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alastor
you walked into the hotel, staggering in, barely able to keep yourself up. every breath your feeble body tried to drag in aggravated another part of your body, causing even slight breaths to feel like you were being punched again.
you grimaced as you found stability against the wall next to door, leaning against it, your head hitting the wall. you micro-adjusted yourself trying to find a spot where you could breathe, knowing if you didn’t you would pass out. you couldn't find that spot, and were near tears. you couldn’t breathe, everything hurt, your eye was swollen shut, and you didn’t know what else to do. you had to get to your room but the thought of walking up those stairs and then down the hallway to your room seemed more of a torture session then you just got through.
that’s when you heard the soft pattering of feet and you looked up to see wide eyes.
red eyes bore into yours as the momentary shock of seeing alastor stopped your brain from thinking about the mind numbing pain you were experiencing. you watched him tighten his grip on his cane as he slowly made his way over to you, like you were a wounded animal.
“can you walk?” he asked, sizing up your figure and waving the cane away.
“i’m not… sure. i… got here… okay…. but my rooms… far.” you muttered out, long pauses between words to catch your breath. he nods, a dark shadow passing over his face along with apprehension, before he shakes his head and approaches you holding out his hands.
“may i carry you?” he asks.
“what?” your shock at his question causing you to not fully register what he said.
“will you allow me to carry you up to the rooms. i’ll help you with whatever injuries you have there.” he says slow and careful.
“i don’t know if… you can carry… me.” you murmur. he smiles a bit more now.
“i’m stronger than i look.” he replies back easily. you wave your free hand at him, giving him consent to go ahead. he gently places his arm under your knees and in a swift movement your in his arms, your body searing as your injuries are jostled.
“fuck.” you moan out trying to breath. alastor stays still and waits until you’re breathing somewhat regularly. he then starts taking you up the stairs, heading the opposite direction from your room.
“my room…” you say pointing behind him.
“i know. we’re going to my room. i have more first aid supplies then what charlie put in the rooms.” he replies easily, not breaking a sweat or even seeming out of breath. his door opens and he gently places you down on a chair near the opening to the forest. you try and find your breath again as alastor quietly darts off and comes back with a box of medical supplies.
he’s quiet as he examines you and asks permission to take off your shirt. he quickly assesses the damage to your ribs, your ankle and your face. checking your hands as well and glaring at the wounds on your knuckles. he starts with your ribs first, setting them and then wrapping them, forcing your posture straight. had you not been just trying to stay awake, you would have blushed at how gently his hands trailed your sides, piecing you back together. next he hands you a cold pack for your eye. you hold it up as he wraps your hand in gauze and ointment. you switch hands as he treats the other one.
“i don’t think your ankle is broken.” he says, “but at the least it’s sprained horribly.” he pulls out a stabilizer and gauze. “this will hurt.” you nod.
“do you worse.” you mutter, finally able to take deeper but still shallow breaths. he turns your foot to face up and your eyes widen as you scream.
“it’s okay. you’re okay.” he says, his eyes wide and worried.
“it hurts al. it hurts.” you cry, tears running down your face.
“i know. but let me finish up. it will feel better.” he assured you as he reaches up and wipes your tears away.
“go ahead.” you whisper. he quickly puts the stabilizer against your leg and then wraps it with gauze. tears running down your cheeks as you keep still and silent.
“it’s done.” he says leaning back as you sit in the chair feeling exhausted.
“thank you… alastor.” you voice no louder than a whisper but you know he hears you as he nods. he packs everything up and then moves you to the bed that magically appears in the room.
“i have a room al.” you say, sitting against the pillows.
“i know you do, but you can’t do anything in this condition. so you’ll stay here until i deem it okay for you to leave.” his tone leaving no room for argument and you nod. “now, who did this to you?”
your eyes widen as your head snaps up at him. gone was the man you saw before, replaced with what you knew as the radio demon. the shift happened almost instantaneously. “it was nothing alastor. i just… fucked up.” you say looking off to the side.
“i don’t take well with lying dear.” he says, his hand hovering over your ankle as a warning. you look at him disbelieving and he just tilts his head. almost as if he’s saying ‘try me’. you sigh.
“it was an ex of mine. he worked for vox and i left him before i came here. he was abusive and i had enough. but he found me and he knew i was at the hotel. said i couldn’t get away from him, and that we were meant to be. and when i tried to get away…” you motioned to yourself. you hoped your words came across as truthful and sincere. you internally sighed in relief as alastor nodded, and sent his shadow off. moments later husk appeared and alastor murmured something to him. you saw husk’s eyes widen as he looked at you and then alastor.
“i’ll take care of it.” husk said, his gaze steely as he left.
“relax my dear. you’re safe now and we’ll help you recover.” alastor said, as you moved to lay down, him taking up an arm chair by the bed and procuring a book from thin air. you closed your eyes as guilt consumed you. you had told alastor the truth but not the full truth.
you didn’t tell him that your ex mentioned that him “giving to you what was coming” was from vox and was to be a message to the radio demon. you knew that alastor would withdraw after that and that would hurt you more than any other physical pain anyone could put you through.
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lucifer
you quickly shut the door to the house, leaning against it and taking a breath. you looked down to your abdomen and got a bit woozy seeing the blood spread across your white shirt.
“damn it.” you mutter, feeling a bit foggy from the blood loss. you shake your head trying to clear it. you knew that lucifer was home and you could only hold onto the hope that he didn't hear you come in. you were getting ready to make your way to the bathroom when lucifer popped in front of you.
“honey! you’re home!” he says, looking mostly at the papers in his hand as you straightened up much to the protest of your body, trying to seem like you had not been stabbed maybe 15 minutes ago.
“i- yup!” you responded, your voice tight as you tried to cover your wound with your hand. you moved your jacket over it so that it couldn’t be seen either. lucifer looked up at you as his eye squinted at you. 
“are you all right?” he asks, coming closer to you, his focus on those papers in his hand all but forgotten. 
“i-i’m fine, luce.” you smile, it not reaching your eyes though. you clear your throat, looking off the left, trying to figure out a way to stop him from really observing you. “i know you said you wanted to show me those new plans for the hotel, let’s go check them out!” you say, changing the subject. hoping that worked. you didn’t want to worry him, nor tell him why you were hurt.
“okay…” he says drawing out the word and then motioning for you to follow him. you start walking behind him, every footstep jostling you and causing your wound to bleed even more, when you reached the three stairs to his study. he crossed them easily but you stepped up on the one and gasped, feeling searing pain in your side. your hand coming out to hold the wall so you didn’t fall. your breath rushing in and out of you like you had ran a race, as your head swam, your body loosing more blood. you see the red substance drip from your hand and watch it fall to the floor, blending into the red carpet. you look up and see lucifer standing there, his eyes wide. 
“what the fuck happened?” he cries, going to you and lifting you up, your hand falling from your wound and your jacket falling back, showing the slice through your shirt. he quickly makes a portal and gets you to your shared room. he gently lays you down on the bed, and dashes off to get some gauze. you try to get off the bed not wanting to ruin the sheets. he comes back to you flailing, trying to get up and pushes you back down, looking at you like you had completely lost it.
“the sheets…” you murmur, coughing and wiping your hand away seeing blood. “oh no.” you whisper and his eyes widen. he throws the gauze away and places his hands on your stomach.
“why didn't you tell me immediately?" he cries, shaking his head looking distraught. "i’m going to heal you, just... stay still.” he says closing his eyes. you grab his hand with the strength you had, though you felt all the strength in your body seemingly being siphoned just by laying on the bed. he looks at you, his eyes wide.
“it hurts you.” you say. 
“don’t care.” he says, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. before you can argue again, his hands glow gold and you body starts stitching itself up, cell by cell, inch by inch. you can feel it all. you cry out as lucifer healing you seems to go on forever. the few minutes it takes seems like hours, as your mind swims through a sea of pain and exhaustion. finally the golden glow subsides and lucifer drops to his knees next to you. you grab his hand as he rests his head against you. both of you trying to recover. you can barely keep your eyes open feeling them closing. you drift off to a dreamless sleep, almost like your body forcing you to rest. 
when you wake next you sit up quickly, looking around the dark room trying to find lucifer. your breath coming in short pants as you can't see anything but the darkness in the room.
“luce?” you ask, your voice hoarse and then you look next to you. lucifer was sleeping close by you. you sigh out in relief as you lay back down and brush his hair back from his eyes, kissing his forehead. “you saved me, again.” you murmur, gently resting your hand on his cheek, resting your forehead against his. his eyes open slowly.
“i’ll always be there to do so.” he smiles and sits up. 
“i’m sorry i woke you up.” you said as he turned to you, drawing you to him and situating you to straddle his lap. clutching you close.
“i was so scared.” he whispered, not like he was asleep just a moment ago.
“i’m sorry.” you respond back. your head slotting in between his shoulder and neck. he lets you rest there for a moment and then pulls you back to look at you.
“who did this to you?” he asks, his eyes steely as he cupped your face gently. you shook your head not wanting to say. “darling, who did this?” he asked, the tone of his voice sharper and more impatient.
“i-“ tears start running down your face. “you’re going to be so upset… and i don’t want you to be. i don’t want.. you to pull away from me again. it’ll make you do that and i can’t bare that lucifer. i just-“ you start talking quickly, your breaths coming quick as you hold on to his shoulders, looking into his eyes even as tears pour from yours. lucifer’s eyes widen and his eyes are misty seeing how upset you are. 
“i won’t. i promise you. i won't pull away, regardless of what you tell me. but i need to know who did this to you. tell me. now.” lucifer says, his voice firm. 
“i-they were masked. they looked like sharks?” you phrased the last statement as a question. “they cornered me in an alley and said that i needed to take a message to lucifer. that they knew how to get to you, and they could use me to do that and you needed to give them what they asked for.” you said as you recounted the tale with your eyes closed. you opened them when you felt lucifer’s claws digging into your hips. you saw his eyes had turned red and his horns were fully out. 
“and they stabbed you?” he ground out. you nodded. "that was their message?" you nodded again.
"that if you didn't do what they asked, they would hurt me." you explain, realizing near the end of the explanation that it probably wasn't needed. his eyes darkened as you spoke, and he moved you gently onto your side of the bed. he took a deep breath as he got up. he gently petted your hair and helped you lay down, his horns no longer out, but his eyes bright red.
“where are you going?” you asked, already knowing the answer.
“out. i’ll be back all right. stay here and go to sleep, you need it. i’ll be right back.” he says, a steely resolve in his eyes, and a gentle smile on his face. you nodded as your eyes felt heavy and fell asleep before lucifer even reached the door to leave. he straightened his jacket and walked down the hall. he had important work to take care of as he created a portal and stepped through it.
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sincerelyneo · 1 month
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teeth | l.hc
“fight so dirty but your love’s so sweet”
💿now playing: teeth by 5 seconds of summer
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❯ summary: Traditionally the caption of the cheer team and the captain of the soccer team are friends - some even date. But you and Donghyuck definitely aren’t friends - if anything you’re enemies. The two of you can’t go five minutes without an argument. So, why are you letting him fuck you in the locker room?
❯ pairings: haechan x fem!reader
❯ genre: college!au, enemies with benefits, smut
❯ words: 2.5k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, bickering, swearing, unprotected sex (don't do this!), hate sex, degrading names, general name-calling, manhandling, haechan is an asshole, but reader is also lowkey mean, choking, use of nickname 'princess', reader uses she/her pronouns, hardly any plot, it's literally just them hate fucking idk what to tell ya.
cheeky author's note: i'm very brtish, so referring to this as soccer literally made me want to rip my hair out 😀
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“You don’t have to be so rough you know, Hyuck!”
"Will you just shut up and let me fuck you!?" He snaps.
The red metal of Lee Donghyuck's locker is cold against the skin of your bare back. Honestly, you don’t even know how it happened. But somehow the captain of the soccer team (and the boy you swear you hate) has you pinned against the boy’s lockers, one leg wrapped around his waist and the top half of your cheer uniform hiked up just enough to give him a full display of your tits. His left-hand grips your hip so tightly that you’re certain he’s doing it on purpose just to piss you off.
Not only that, but he also has your skirt bunched up around your waist. Giving him just the right amount of easy access to pull your panties to the side and tease his cock between your folds.
"Will you just hurry up and stick it in!?" You try to yell at him but, from the way he’s teasing the head of his cock at your entrance, the attempt comes out like a feeble whine.
Exactly on command, the scowl on your face quickly morphs into a wince, and the annoyed quirk on your lips disappears to form a small 'o' as Hyuck’s grip on your hip hardens and he pushes his cock quickly into your cunt. You can’t complain though - you did just tell him to stick it in.
"Shit," you squirm, hand coming up to his chest, pressing hard against the badge of his soccer uniform that rests on his right peck.
"Now look who’s needy," He teases. "I vividly remember you saying I’d be the shittest fuck on the soccer team."
"That’s what this is about!? You’re still mad that– uhh," you’re cut off by your own moan and your nails sink into the fabric of his shirt when he starts to move his hips. His pace is surprisingly slow - deliberately teasing - in comparison to his rapid first thrust inside of you.
"Christ! Even when you fuck you talk too much," Hyuck curses, his hand wrapping around your arm to free himself from the grip you have on his shirt.
"You're one to talk," You hiss back. "Even when you fuck you’re still an annoying little asshol– "
You gasp as he pulls out of you completely and then thrusts into you once again.
"You could've at least warned me, you dick,” You exhale, your walls readjusting to his size for the second time - and what a big size he was.
“Yeah, yeah, spare me the lecture princess.”
You can’t believe that even when he’s buried to the hilt inside of your pussy he’s still calling you that stupid fucking nickname. It’s not the word ‘princess’ itself that bothers you per se; it’s Lee Donghyuck’s intention behind the name that makes your blood blister with anger. He’s been calling you ‘princess’ since your freshman year in college but you’d only ever inquired about it recently.
You were at a party, and even though you hate the bones of Lee Donghyuck, you’d be lying if you said your social circles didn’t overlap. It was inevitable, he’s on the soccer team, you’re a cheerleader; honestly, the two of you should be friends. But you’re not. And because of your strained relationship, it was no surprise that the minute you walked through the door he’d picked a fight with you.
You can't even remember what the argument was about now, but you know the two of you had gone back and forth in a boxing match of insults that always ended with him throwing the word ‘princess’ at the end of his rebuttals. And you really couldn’t quite understand why. In your mind, being called a princess was a compliment, but to Donghyuck, princesses were “spoilt bitches who have no grip on reality.”
Safe to say you didn’t think the term was one of endearment after that.
And it was at that same party where you’d insisted Donghyuck would be the shittest fuck on the soccer team – something you’re currently finding out as being not true as he fucks you senseless six ways to Sunday. In all honesty, even when Yuta had asked you the question in a silly little game of truth or dare, you knew Hyuck was the cop-out answer. Truthfully, your real answer would have been Jisung or Chenle. They’re both a little younger and act more awkward with you. But still, you’d let hell freeze over before letting Lee Donghyuck think he was a better fuck than somebody else. However, you’re pretty sure you’ve broken that promise to yourself from the way you’re breathlessly panting and gasping from the vigorous drilling of his cock. That or hell genuinely has frozen over.
But still, what did he expect? The two of you couldn’t go half a second without a petty argument. Sometimes you find yourself just doing it because you were bored and he was there. After all, it’s just the norm between the two of you.
That’s why you can’t quite understand why he’s taking a stupid comment said in a passing game of truth or dare to heart. You’ve said worse to him, you're sure of it.
Hyuck pulls out of your pussy and the emptiness that lingers between your legs has you groaning – even if it’s just for a second. He doesn’t give you long to harp on the loss of friction because he wastes no time dropping your leg from his hip, gripping your waist and slamming the front of your body against his locker.
You want to make another snarky comment about his roughness, but you secretly love it. Well, it’s not so secret actually — Hyuck is well aware that you like his manhandling because he feels your wetness becoming more slick on his cock as he thrusts into you from behind.
His pace in the new position is still tortuous, slow and teasing, and so fucking annoyingly good. But you don’t know how much longer you can take the tormenting leisurely pace. You want more - you need more. If he didn't have your arms pinned behind you and you flush against the lockers, you’d claw at his back to make him go faster.
You feel a warmth on the nape of your neck as he nuzzles against your ear, placing a kiss so gently, that you’re shocked at the sudden contrast in his demeanour.
“This the shittest fuck you’ve had, huh?”
No.
“Yes,” you reply and he growls deeply. There’s a rough snap of his hips and it catches you off guard so much you have to bite down on your lip to suppress a whimper.
“Fucking liar,” he scoffs.
The insult makes your face screw up in a glare, but still, all you can manage is a breathy, “Am not.”
No matter how good the length of his cock is making you feel, you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of admitting he was right – that he’s not the worst fuck on the soccer team. Not that you had much experience with the others.
But even though you refuse to use your words to tell him you’re loving it, your body betrays you by being so fucking responsive to his touches. And no matter how hard you fight against him, Hyuck never lets you gain an inch. In fact, every time you try to free your arms from his, he lets out a frustrated groan, and the sound only makes your pussy throb harder.
His hand slips up your body until it finds your throat, where his fingers dig into either side of your neck. He stops his thrusts.
“Well if you’re not lying, are you saying I’m a shitty fuck princess?” He asks innocently as if he’s about to be gentle with you, but you know better. After all, this is Donghyuck. “If you want to pretend like you don’t want this; if that helps you sleep at night, then fine, but your slutty cunt is so fucking wet, I can almost feel you soaking my balls.”
He ducks down to place a kiss on your jaw, and you feel his lips smile into it as you shudder from his words. Instinctively, you swing your head away from him, only to be yanked back by the hand around your throat. He chuckles against your skin, hips starting to move again, thrusting shallowly into your stretched cunt.
“If I’m such a shitty fuck, I supposed you want me to stop, huh?” He asks in a low voice, lips grazing your cheek.
Noises you’ve never heard yourself make before tumble from your mouth as you moan and sob shamelessly. You try to bite your tongue, try not to fuel his ego, but his rhythm is too good at tearing down your guard, which is why you find yourself crying out, “Please don’t stop!”
He laughs, fucking you harder and faster, the stings of pain from his cock hitting you so deep morphing into a hot ache of pleasure that coils tighter and tighter in your core.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he growls.
His fingers, still on your throat press into your skin, not hard enough to cut off your air supply but just enough pressure to force out strangled moans. Your shoulders rub against the coarse material of his soccer kit, grounding you against him as he fucks you in punishing thrusts.
You don’t want to admit it, but your body can’t resist it.
“Fuck, gonna cum,” you mumble, eyes squeezed tight together.
“Yeah? You gonna cum for me like a good little slut?” he murmurs into your temples
The low rumble of his voice has the tension in your core ratcheting higher, pushing you closer to your release. Your head feels like it’s floating as the tight spring in your stomach coils until it finally snaps and has your knees buckling beneath you.
Hyuck keeps his speed steady, fucking you through your climax and savouring the way your walls clench around him in rigid spasms. Your orgasm triggers his and he clenches his jaw.
“Fuck, I'm gonna cum,” he ruts into you harder, and all you can do is moan for him.
“Please,” you whimper.
He chuckles at your submission - he’s never seen you like this before - so needy and desperate. He didn’t think it was possible to love anything about you; but this right here, you fucked out and pleading for his cum, yeah, he fucking loves it.
He ruts into you a last few times with thrusts that are wild and more frenzied, his thighs slapping against your ass. He contemplates cumming inside of you, but he figures he’d save that for another day since the two of you had forgotten about a condom and hadn’t really discussed it.
And…did he just think about having sex with you again?
With a loud groan that rattles against the metal in the empty locker room, Hyuck pulls out of your cunt and jerks his cock until he’s cumming onto the small of your back. Unable to stop yourself, you moan softly and a stupid smile spreads across your face when you hear him sigh.
After that it's silent, only your rapid breaths echoing in the room. He’s pressed against you, face buried in your neck, holding you and your weak legs in place. You stay like that for a beat, but then you remember who it is that’s just fucked you.
Without any more hesitation, you shake his grip and push him away from you. "Christ! Stop breathing down my neck. Fucking gross."
If it wasn’t for the fact that he’s your arch nemesis you would have stayed tangled up in him a little while longer, letting yourself get soaked up in the fact that that was the best sex you’ve ever had.
As you turn around to face him, he looks at you with the softest expression you’ve ever seen on his face.
“There’s a towel in my bag if you want to…”
You scoff, “How chivalrous of you.”
You pull the towel from the bag in his locker and start wiping at his cum on your back. Your body is turned away from him but you can still feel his eyes lingering on you as you wipe away.
You stop to look at him, “What are you still doing here? We have a game in like 10 minutes. Shouldn’t you be like…warming up or something?”
“I think I’m already warmed up,” he mumbles and you shake your head with a smile, going back to cleaning yourself off.
“Seriously, get on the pitch,” you demand when you see him still lingering.
There’s a hand in his hair, scratching his head and he looks a little flushed. You never see him like this, it’s weird. The Hyuck you know and loathe is cocky, smug, arrogant, all of those kinds of words; but the one in front of you looks so awkward, flushed. Is it weird you kinda like it?
“Are you waiting for me to tell you you aren’t a bad fuck or something? Seriously Hyuck, get lost,” you try and joke, pulling down your cheer uniform.
“No..I…” he stumbles.
You groan, “Oh no, don’t do this. Don’t make things weird.”
“I’m not—”
“Can’t you just be like a normal guy and…I don’t know, say it felt good to fuck me like you hate me or some shit?”
His eyes sweep over your face as if he were studying you. His face softens and he steps closer.
“I mean I could say that, because it felt fucking amazing actually,” he says and you swallow thickly. “But you’re wrong about one thing.”
You pause, freezing as he comes towards you. You don’t even register how close he is until you feel his breath on your lips and his chest against yours.
“What?”
“I don’t actually hate you that much,” he admits, and your eyes widen.
“Yeah right, funny joke,” you roll your eyes and laugh sarcastically but he’s not laughing with you. In fact he’s just looking at you, deadpan, and it’s starting to freak you out.
When you realise that he is in fact serious, you cross your hands across your chest.
“You’re not gonna start doing all that cheesy shit they do in the movies, where you profess your undying love for me, and tell me you never really hated me and it was all just a miscommunication, are you?”
“Fuck no!” He almost gags at the mention of it. “Just because I said I don’t hate you that much doesn’t mean I like you? Are you crazy?”
“Well I’m just making sure,” you poke his chest.
He runs a hand through his hair and sighs, “But I do wanna do this again…” he trails off so quietly that you wouldn’t have heard it if there was anybody else in the room with you.
“This?”
“Yes, this. Us. Fucking,” he explains. “I fucking hate you, but fuck, I think I love your pussy.”
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haeryna · 4 months
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the purest shade of white ↪ okkotsu yuuta x reader ⸙͎。˚⋆ 𓋼
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summary: yuuta looks almost like an angel, you think to yourself grimly, as you shift on the balls of your feet. you haven't seen your best friend in a couple years now, not since he left for africa. too bad he's attempting to kill the kouhai that you're trying to protect.
tw: manga spoilers! anime watchers, do not read. mild angst but happy ending. starts at the beginning of ch. 139. naoya zenin is here and he is his classic asshole self. reader is in the same grade as yuuta, both in age and in terms of cursed energy. swearing because reader is a bad bitch. mildly suggestive. unironic use of "senpai" and "kouhai." slight descriptions of blood and injury, everyone is subjected to the author's attempts at writing dialogue and fight scenes. not proofread but at this point that shouldn't be a surprise. it is blatantly obvious that the writer also does not know how to end stories
notes: thank you for 100 new friends! :) poll is technically still up but i'm impatient and yuuta was winning by a pretty decent margin so here it is lol. divider by @/saradika-graphics!
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"Yuuji!" you yelp, slicing the head off a curse with a clean stroke of your katana. Purple ichor splatters to the ground as you whirl, searching for the familiar head of pink hair. "Stay close to me!"
Behind you, Choso grunts with exertion, sending out another bolt of Piercing Blood. Panting, you weave through the curses, letting their corpses fall behind you. Yuuji, where is Yuuji?
As the last body falls, you can't but let out an exasperated huff at the sheepish grin on Yuuji's face. "Don't scare me like that," you chide. "How am I supposed to protect you if I can't even find you?" Yuuji opens his mouth to protest but you shake your head. "I made a promise," you tell him, pain rippling through your heart dully. Gojo-sensei was long gone, stolen away by one of the people he had loved most in the world. Grimacing, you sheathe your katana, mindful of the blood that stains your palms, as you try to ignore the memory of his words all those months ago.
If anything happens, I need you to protect Itadori Yuuji. I know they're going to pull something on him once I'm not there to back him up.
"Senpai, what should-"
Yuuji immediately tenses as your hand flies to the grip of your katana. "I smell a rat," you mutter, nose wrinkling as you turn to face Naoya Zenin, standing atop a bridge. He bares his teeth at you in semblance of a smile. "How perceptive as always," he mocks.
"Cut the bullshit," you snap, hand still resting on the pommel. "What do you want?"
"Fushiguro Megumi," is his rather bland response, and you shift your feet into the opening steps of Flowing River.
"What do you want with Fushiguro?" Yuuji yells, and the way Naoya's face twists makes you want to vomit.
"I think I'll have him die."
Cursed energy fills your body as you leap. Naoya's resounding cackle burns through your ears as you swing, barely grazing his shoulder. Before you can push forward off your feet, a heavy presence rests on your shoulders, locking you in place. All four of you freeze. Yuuji and Choso look horrified, and Naoya looks as though he's broken out into a cold sweat. But you know this feeling, feel it settle back into your body as if it never left.
Okkotsu Yuuta steps out from the building ledge, dark eyes unreadable. Your body sings. Yuuta, Yuuta, Yuuta! His hair has grown longer, bangs sweeping over his forehead, eyebags a little darker than they used to be. You can feel Rika's presence, swirling around you in a mass of death and decay. You're used to it. You've grown to crave it, even. His eyes meet yours, and for a split second, his facade cracks. Confusion, fear, and...regret?
Yuuta leaps, slamming into concrete and sending shockwaves deep into your bones. "Who's with Itadori?" God, even his voice is different, so different from the boy who said goodbye to you so long ago. You open your mouth to speak, but Choso beats you to it, brows furrowed.
"So you're Yuuji's executioner."
Blood turns to ice in your veins, and you can tell by the pained expression Yuuta has that you aren't hiding your emotions as well as you think you are. Naoya laughs. "I was going to tell you that, but you were being too emotional like the bitch you are."
"Who're you?"
Yuuta's voice is cold, but as Naoya babbles on, you can feel the horror settle thickly into your chest. Choso and Yuuji are talking behind you but it feels like you're underwater, you're sinking, drowning, and Yuuta must have come to a conclusion because all of a sudden he's surging forward-
You move before you can even think, steel clashing against steel. "Yuuji," you say, through gritted teeth. "Run."
A horrible grating noise fills the air as you let cursed energy flow through your body, shoving Yuuta's sword away from yourself. "I won't let you kill him," you hiss, body already shifting into Jagged Bolt. Yuuta's eyes flash as you surge forward, katana in hand.
"How would you describe my cursed technique?" you had asked Gojo, mindlessly swinging your feet. Gojo hums.
"Have you ever heard of Newton's Law's of Motion?"
You had crinkled your nose at that. "No?"
"An object in motion, stays in motion. Except you are the object. And your cursed energy is the motion." You remember how Gojo's lips curved slightly. "In other words, once you start, nobody can stop you."
You're crying, you realize with a start, as you cut a line into Yuuta's chest. Moisture seeps from your eyes as you twist your forearm into a parry, katanas sparking with each strike. Belatedly, you sense that Yuuji, your foolish, stupid, loyal kouhai has stayed, trading strikes with his fists between the precise movements of your blade. Your heart drops as Yuuta reaches for the ring on his finger.
No. No!
He twists it, and Rika appears behind you. Claws sink into your shoulder and you let out a cry of pain as she flips you into the ground.
"Be nice, Rika," Yuuta chides, as you hit the concrete. Blood spurts from your mouth as you choke, fingers clawing at the ground desperately for your katana. A piece of scaffolding is practically crushing your legs; instinctively, you know that if you try to break through it, you'll tear your limbs right off.
As Rika holds Yuuji up, you lunge desperately, uncaring of what you have to sacrifice. Inumaki's arm, the way half of Nobara's face had been practically ripped out of her skull, the remains of Nanami-san, the way that you were the one to find Maki's charred body-
I can't lose anyone else.
You scream as Yuuta pierces Yuuji's chest with his katana, cursed energy building in your legs as you prepare to shoot forward. Yuuta turns, eyes filled with an unidentifiable emotion as he sees you about to tear yourself in half just to reach Yuuji.
With a wave of his hand, Rika dives for you, and everything goes dark.
Yuuta had known you were special from the day he'd first met you. That spring, when Gojo-sensei had dropped him (and Rika) into a class of unsuspecting first years, he remembers that out of the four of them, you had moved so gracefully that he hadn't processed the katana in your hand until you'd pressed it against your throat.
"Gojo-sensei," you'd hissed. "What is this?"
While Maki, Inumaki, and Panda had been subsequently bruised up by Rika, you had dodged every single one of her movements until Rika had been (barely) called back by Yuuta.
"Another Special Grade," Gojo had hummed. "Just like you, hm?"
Special Grade?
What he hadn't realized then, he realized later; you weren't just special to him, but to the entire rest of the Jujutsu World as well. Special Grade Sorcerers were rare, Maki had told him. "You only have it because of Rika," she'd scoffed, "but she deserves it."
You quickly became one of his closest friends. You were fast enough to dodge Rika's ire, even laughing whenever she tried. You'd shown Yuuta kindness that he didn't think he deserved. You broke him out of his shell enough so that when he left for Africa, he felt as though he was standing with his own strength. His first katana had been the sister blade of your own, forged from the same metal by the same hands. The way your eyes had lit up when you saw it was a memory he cherished.
Somberly, Yuuta eyes the chains encasing your wrists and ankles, each decorated with the slips of protective paper that would nullify your cursed energy. Most sorcerers required only one. You required at least twenty.
He knows you, knows the way you always take the strawberry daifuku, leaving him the red bean ones even though he knows you prefer the red bean. He knows that you push yourself hard, harder than he's ever seen anyone work. But most of all, he knows your loyalty, how once your heart finally lets someone in, you'll never let them go.
Did you miss him like he missed you?
The chains are more for your own protection. He needs you to hear him out before you attempt to end his life for a second time. Yuuta knows now that Gojo must have asked you the same thing he'd asked him; to keep Itadori Yuji safe from the whims of the higher ups. Gojo, being the forgetful bastard he was, probably didn't alert you to the fact that he'd gone to Yuuta for help as well. Crouching, Yuuta eyes your body with a sad tilt of his lips. The injuries you'd sustained were immense, and it had taken quite a bit of his own cursed energy to reverse.
Will you forgive him?
You're asleep, breath hitching every so often. Yuuta wonders what you're dreaming of, before pushing the thought away. Tenderly, he cups your face in the palm of his hand, calloused fingers stroking your cheek.
"You need to wake up now," he murmurs, as your eyes flutter open, first in dazed confusion, before sharpening into panic.
"I'll miss you!" you'd cried, as you clung to Yuuta under the shade of the large oak. You were the first person he had told about his departure to Africa, and you took it hard. Yuuta had stood frozen as the first of your tears had dripped down your cheeks. It was the first time he'd seen you cry.
"I'll be back before you know it," he'd murmured, pressing a featherlight kiss to the top of your head. You'd looked up to him, eyes teary.
"Promise?"
"I promise," he'd said, interlocking his pinky with your own. A love like Yuuta's is a dangerous thing, you know, but in this moment you feel nothing but safe.
The first sensation you feel upon awakening is the dull ache in your (miraculously still attached) legs. The second is the warmth on your cheek. Yuuta is standing above you, hand gently resting against your face. Immediately you lunge forward, teeth bared. The rattle of chains stops you, and you swear. Of course he would have taken precautions. Yuuta looks almost hurt as you violently shake off his touch.
"Don't touch me, I swear to god I'm going to rip you apart."
Yuuta says your name sadly, but you're practically trembling with rage.
"He was just a kid, with the kind of power we wield, why the fuck would you listen to the higher ups?"
Yuuta echoes your name a bit more firmly, but you ignore him, tears building in your eyes.
"You're no better than the rest of them are you, you're just-"
"Senpai!"
Your heart stops as Yuuji pokes his head out from around the corner. They must have brought you back to Jujutsu Tech, you think distractedly. Just how long were you out?
"Yuuji!" you cry out, scanning his body for any injuries. He seems to be uninjured, but most importantly, he's alive. Tears fall down your cheeks. "Are you alright?"
Yuuji appears horrified by the sudden outburst as he hastily holds up his hands. "I'm fine, senpai, really, I'm sorry for worrying you. Okkotsu-san is actually on our side, I swear! It was a binding vow, that's why he had to actually kill me, but he did some really cool Reverse Technique shit and I'm all good now!"
Warily, you eye Yuuta, whose expression resembles that of a kicked puppy. "Okkotsu Yuuta," you say, voice hard. "Let me out of these chains right fucking now."
With a wave of his hand, the papers attached to the chains fall to the floor. Yuuta looks dejected as he looks away from you. "I'm so sor-"
Before he can finish you immediate tackle him into a hug, knocking the both of you into the floor as you bury your face into the soft slope of his neck. "You're such an idiot," you sob, unable to hide the rush of emotions going through you. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Tentatively, Yuuta wraps his arms around you, and you melt, pressing yourself closer to his body. "To be honest, I think Gojo-sensei is to blame. I think he forgot to mention to either of us that he asked us to do the exact same thing."
You let out a hiccupping laugh. "Of course he did. That forgetful asshole."
The sigh Yuuta lets out is shaky as he nuzzles the top of your head. "I'm so, so sorry," he tells you earnestly. "I must have scared you, and Rika's mad at me for making me hurt you like that. I think she likes you, even though she pretends not to."
You look up at him, really look at him, and see the look of adoration in his eyes as he stares back down at you. Thankfully Yuuji's escaped long ago, most likely understanding that you two would need privacy. "You came back," you whisper, and Yuuta's resulting smile makes your heart skip a beat.
"I promised you, didn't I?"
Before you can stop yourself, you pull Yuuta down for a searing kiss. He's so soft, and you nip at the plush of his bottom lip teasingly, pulling a whine from his throat. His large hands grip your hips, and in retaliation, you grab a fistful of his hair and tug. The breathy noise he makes goes straight between your thighs. You know he can feel your smile against his lips.
"I missed you," you breathe, pulling away. Yuuta looks dazed, lips kiss swollen, pupils so dilated that you can barely see the soft brown of his eyes.
"I love you," he blurts out, and your resulting laugh is airy as you press another chaste kiss to his lips.
"I've always loved you, Yuuta," you admit. "During Shibuya, I thought I wasn't going to make it. You were the only thing keeping me going."
The look in his eyes is fierce as he tugs you back into him, enveloping you in his arms. "You'll never have to worry about that again. You have my entire life. Where you go, I'll follow, and if I die, not even Death would be able to separate me from your side."
"Those sound a lot like wedding vows, don't you think?"
Yuuta's blush covers his entire face and you grin, pressing one last kiss to his lips. "Come on now. We have kids we need to protect."
As Yuuta leads you to where the others have convened, even under the dark circumstances you're in, the warmth of his hand clutching yours fills you with a giddiness you hadn't experienced in months. The sentiment is quickly dashed as soon as Maki opens her mouth.
"Fucking finally. Inumaki owes me 3,000 yen."
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poshmina · 4 months
Text
A Tale of Two*Very Sensitive* Wings
Azriel X !Fem Reader
Warnings: (18+ Mature) wingplay, size kink, light angst, getting caught
Word Count: 5k+
Background: You are a long lost Archeron half-sister and your dad sends a message asking if your sisters will provide you with refuge. They oblige, bringing you back to the night court to reside with them and the rest of the inner circle. The story begins after A Court of Mist and Fury when Nesta lets slip to you at dinner that Azriel thinks he’s your mate. At first, this shocks you, as you are still human and are not accustomed to the traditions of the Fae. However, as time goes on you’ve begun to feel drawn to him. You spend your time in the Night Court learning healing practices, since you have no magical power and cannot fight with the rest of them. You’ve been staying in the House of Wind with Azriel, and though you see him often and want to get closer to him, he is always quiet and withdrawn, leaving you confused wondering how someone so distant could be your mate?
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The floor of the House of Wind shudders as an Illyrian male lands on the balcony. You look up from where you’d been sitting at the table, enjoying dinner, and watch his shadow cross the balcony. You can’t make out his face in the darkness, but you know who it is anyhow. 
Azriel crosses the threshold of the doorway into the dining room, his long wings tucked against his back. He hardly casts you a passing glance as he breaches the room, shadows swirling around him, seemingly not in the mood to chat tonight. You’ve gotten used to the quiet, brooding demeanor of your housemate, and usually you don’t press. Except tonight there’s blood on his face, in his hair, and on his clothes. As he walks, pieces flake off and scatter across the floor, meaning it’s been there long enough to dry. Meaning he likely left his wounds untreated the entire flight here, meaning he risked passing out mid flight and tumbling to his death due to blood loss.
You shove your chair out from behind you and stand, the sound echoing across the hall. “How long have you been bleeding?”
He doesn’t pause, or even look over his shoulder to address you. “It’s not mine.”
By this point, he’s halfway across the room, apparently planning to head to his quarters without having someone check his wounds. That’s when you notice it, a myriad of tears across his wings as if he’d been struck with arrows and then yanked them back out. The blood on his wings is most definitely his own. 
“Azriel!” It comes out as a mix between a shout and a plea. You can tell yourself you don’t really care about him, that you would harass anyone until they got treated, except this is more than medical obligation. You’re beginning to care for him.
He stops in his tracks, but doesn’t look over his shoulder. “Y/N, I’m fine,” he insists. 
You cross the room towards him. “Clearly you’re not! There are holes in your wings. You’re so covered in blood there’s no way even you could tell if there were wounds hidden beneath. You have to get treated!”
He lets out an irritated sigh and finally turns to face you. “Y/N, you don’t have to involve yourself in this. It’s none of your business.”
Gods, you can’t believe him. “You made it my business when you came in tracking blood across the house. Either go see a healer, or let me take a look.”
You don’t know why you’re so insistent. He could be fine. He’s been alive for hundreds of years and surely knows his physical limits. Except you’re so tired of him keeping you at arm's length, so tired of his closed off, brooding attitude. 
He hesitates, jaw clenched, but doesn’t agree. 
“Just let me help you,” you plead. 
For a moment, you think you see behind his mask, the cold exterior he keeps up around you. You think he’s going to say yes.
Instead he draws further on himself and pushes you further away. “I’m fine, Y/N. Worry about yourself.” He turns to disappear down the hallway, but doesn’t get two steps before you’re walking after him. You don’t know what’s gotten into you tonight, but you’re sick of his games. Sick of waiting and wondering if he’ll ever make a move. If he even likes you. Every feeling you bottled up from the past few months comes to a head, tumbling out of you.
“What is wrong with you?” You ask, exasperated. 
He wheels around to face you, unable to mask the surprise on his face, “What?”
“I said what is wrong with you! You’re always irritated, or distant, or avoidant. You actively avoid me even though I’ve done nothing but be kind to you. You act like I’m a thorn in your side even though I have every right to be here in this house with you.” You jab a finger towards the floor to solidify your point. “Do you think I asked to be here? To be taken from my home and thrust into this strange kingdom, with your strange Fae traditions, where everyone is older, and faster and stronger than me?” He blinks, stunned into silence by your sudden outburst.
“Do you think I asked to have you as my mate?”
Immediately, you wish you could take it back. You hadn’t meant for that to come out at all, let alone in such an accusatory tone. Really, you don’t mind the thought of him as your mate. That is, if you could explore the bond together. If he would quit shoving you away. 
His shadows flare, and the scowl you've become so accustomed to returns. “Who told you that?”
“I—” You fumble over your words, “I didn’t mean to tell you that.”
He takes a step closer, and all of the sudden you get a very real sense of his height as he towers over you. “Doesn’t matter, you already did. Now who told you?”
You reel to find something to distract him, not wanting to put the blame on Nesta. Your relationship with your new sister is so new and fragile, you can’t drive a wench in it. “I deserved to know Azriel. It’s not like you were going to tell me.”
His gaze flickers, and you swear you see a flash of pain in those eyes. “I didn’t want you to find out this way.”
The sting of rejection pangs sharp in your chest. He didn’t want you to find out this way, or he didn’t want you to find out at all? All these months avoiding you, acting like he wants nothing more than for you to poof out of his life and return where you came from. You tried to ignore the fear, tried to push it away, but now the reality crashes over you. Your mate doesn’t want you at all. 
“Well now I know and I don’t expect anything from you.” You jab a finger towards his chest. “I know I’m human and I’m weak and you didn’t ask for me either. But it wouldn’t kill you to be a little nicer to me.” You take a shuddering breath, and a weight seems to fall off your shoulder with all of those words out. You realize you’ve moved closer to him and take a step back.
“Nicer,” he repeats, watching you intently. 
“Yes,” you huff. “We don’t have to be anything more than acquaintances. Housemates, even. But you don’t have to be such a dick.” You cross your arms and level him a stare.
He sighs, shaking head in disbelief. “Fine. What exactly does this relationship of acquaintance entail?” One of his wings shudders behind him, and from the wince on his face you can tell it wasn’t on purpose. You look at it pointedly. 
“Letting me help you would be a start.”
There’s a final moment of hesitation, drawn out long enough that you think he might actually turn you away. Except then he shakes his head, and as if it physically pains him to do so, says, “As you wish.” Without another word he turns down the hall to head to his rooms. You take a moment of pause, wondering if you pushed too far. The male in front of you is not just any man, he’s a centuries old Illyrian warrior with power beyond your comprehension. Any relationship with him could be dangerous, acquaintance or no. 
But he turns back to you. “You coming?” And for some reason you can’t help but follow.
“Fuck.” He shudders beneath your hands. The blood was not, in fact, entirely his opponents. He had two gashes, one across his abdomen and the other along his bicep. Although his fae blood was already beginning to heal them, you insisted he let you stitch them up in order to avoid scarring. 
You thread the needle through his skin and finish the final stitch, clipping the string you used to sew him up and sitting back to admire your handiwork. You may not have magic, but you quickly excelled in the healing arts. 
“All done,” you tell him. He lifts his head from where it had been bowed against his arms and inspects your work. If he’s impressed or not, you can’t tell. He shows nothing on his face, not even a hint of pain from the wounds still remaining on his wings. 
“Now for your wings,” you shift to stand behind him, biting your lip as you try to decide a course of action. Wings can’t be stitched up, they have to heal naturally, and take longer than most ailments to close. The best you can offer is to apply a numbing salve to curb the pain for now. You’re about to tell him that when he says—
“I can handle it.”
You knit your eyebrows. “I’m already here. You won’t be able to reach behind you. If I don’t numb them you’ll be in serious pain all night.”
Put so plainly you’re unsure how he could refuse. He does anyhow. “I don’t need numbing salve. You’ve done plenty, thank you.” And just like that he dismisses you. Except now that he’s washed the blood from his skin you can see just how pale he is, and with the pain he won’t be able to get a lick of sleep, slowing the healing process altogether. 
You prop a hand on your hip. “As your healing professional I would strongly advise against that.” You don’t understand his reluctance, and every time he says no to help, it only makes you want to push further. 
He looks up at you, and for the first time in maybe forever, one side of his lips quirk up into a smirk. “Healing professional, huh?” 
You shrug. “The closest you have to one, at least.”
He tilts his head back and mutters a prayer to the Mother. “You’re not going to leave until I let you do this, will you?”
“It’s unlikely.”
He gives an exasperated sigh, then leans over the desk he’d been sitting at, baring his wings to you. “Make it quick.” His voice is muffled by the cradle of his arms. You can’t help but smirk at the success. Progress. This is progress.
A few minutes later the house has summoned a jar of numbing salve for you and you are standing over him, preparing to begin your work. 
“This may sting for a moment, but once it settles it will fade.” He grunts in response. “I’ll be gentle,” you add. You scoop a generous portion out of the jar, warming it between your fingers before applying it. You decide to start at the outskirts where the tears are thinner and not as gruesome. Hovering a hand over his wing, you pause for a moment before gingerly spreading the salve on him. He tenses immediately, hissing through his teeth before relaxing as it settles in.
“Okay?” You ask.
“Fine.” His tone is clipped. 
Taking that as permission, you continue along the edges of his wings, applying and waiting for him to adjust before moving to the next. As far as cooperation goes, he is the ideal patient. He doesn’t so much as shift a muscle while you work, and remains deadly silent. If it weren’t for his fists resting on the table clenched to the point his knuckles are white, you would think it was painless. 
Once you finish the outer ring of his wings, you pause. “I’m going to tackle the deeper ones now. Do you need a break?”
“Don’t bother.” His voice comes out muffled, and you notice one of his hands has disappeared into the space between his arms where his head is caged. He’s likely biting at his finger to distract from the pain. 
“Would you like something to bite on?”
 For a moment there’s no response, then his hand returns into sight on the desk. “I’m fine, Y/N. Please continue.” He says as if you’re a nagging insect buzzing at his ear rather than the only person trying to help him. 
With a huff, you dip your fingers into the jar again, and begin to spread the salve near the base of his wings. This time, you aren’t quite so gentle. 
He lets out a strangled sound beneath you, somewhere between a gasp and a groan. Immediately, you feel guilty, and start to take more care with the application, massaging slow, deliberate circles into the muscles of his wings. You can feel the muscles around the tears shudder and relax as you go. He curses beneath your hands. 
You’ve almost reached the last, and nastiest, of his wounds when he abruptly shoves his chair backwards and stands, causing you to lose your balance. You nearly fall on your ass before catching yourself on the desk. 
“That’s enough,” he nearly shouts at the same time you say, “What the fuck, Azriel?” His eyes are wild, chest heaving as he glares down at you. He distinctly seems to angle his body away from you.
“I wasn’t finished,” you argue.
He looks up at the ceiling, anywhere but directly at you. “You’ve done plenty.” Instinctively, your eyes fall to his stomach to double check the work you’d done earlier. Instead, your eyes snag on something a few inches lower.
Your eyes widen as you take in the obvious bulge straining against his leathers. 
Oh.
One of the first things you’d learned about treating the Fae is that wings are very sensitive. They are to be handled with the utmost care, their delicate construction requiring practiced healing applications. However, in all your training, nobody had deigned to mention sensitive goes hand in hand with pleasurable. 
His eyes flare as you look back up at him, cheeks heating. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but words don’t come. He merely continues to stare at you with that heated gaze. 
“I should go,” the words come out of you in a frenzied rush. He doesn’t agree, but he doesn’t disagree either. “I just— I didn’t realize,” now that you’ve started, you can hardly stop yourself. “This is all so new to me. I wouldn’t have if I’d known—”
“Now you know.” If he means it to be harsh, it doesn’t come out that way, but rather like a plea.
“I should go,” you say again, but can hardly move a muscle. With him standing there and looking at you like that, with the distance between you so small. You feel as if you're drowning, and he is the current pulling you further under. 
You let out a small gasp as you feel a featherlight touch on your cheek. One of his shadows has crept across the room, and whether he intended it or not, is caressing you gently. Instinctively, you lean into it.
A few paces away, you watch his lips part as he watches you. He doesn’t recall his shadow. Instead, it inches closer, brushing across your lips. You don’t dare move, you don’t dare breathe. 
“Azriel,” you whisper. 
In a moment he’s upon you. The shadow dissipates, replaced by his hands cupping your face, his hips pushing you backwards until you're pressed against the desk. He kisses you with a hunger you’ve never felt before, his lips moving desperately against yours. You let out a whimper as he guides your lips apart, running his tongue across your own. 
With every ounce of self control you have left, you manage to shove him away for a moment. 
“I thought you hated me. I thought you didn’t want me as your mate.” You search his eyes for answers, for the cold, closed off man you’d known up until now.
“Hate you?” He tips his head back and laughs humorlessly. “If hating you means thinking about you every waking moment. If hating you means desperately wishing you’d appear outside my doorway every night. If hating you means not being able to even think about you without—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head. “If that’s what it means then sure, Y/N, I hate you.”
Your mind reels trying to process what he’s telling you. “You sure as hell acted like it.”
A flash of regret crosses through his eyes. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I wanted to give you time to adjust.”
Faintly, you remember what had happened when Lucien had sprung the mating bond on a newly transformed Elain. She can hardly stand to be in the same room as him, let alone pursue a relationship. 
In a moment of boldness, you reach down and palm him through his leathers, watching as his eyes flutter closed in pleasure. “Consider me adjusted.” You yank him back down to you, crashing his lips against yours. He meets you with the same intensity, tongue and lips and teeth clashing in a heavenly dance. His hand slides up to your throat as he kisses you, holding gently. It’s only when you pull away to gasp for air when you realize his shadows are floating around you, cradling you both. 
Your lips part in wonder. It’s beautiful, but you hardly get the chance to tell him so before he lifts you up on the desk and resumes the contact. His kisses stray from the side of your mouth, to your jaw and neck. He takes your ear between his teeth and tugs lightly, sending shivers of pleasure through you. His hand cups your breast, and when the attention of his mouth lowers to your collarbones, you lean back to shuck your shirt off. He palms your breast greedily, reaching behind you to undo your bra clasp before taking a moment to stare. You feel your cheeks heat at the intensity of his gaze, and have the urge to cover yourself again.
“Perfect. You’re fucking perfect Y/N,” he mutters before lowering his mouth to your nipple and closing his mouth upon it, sucking and swirling in a way that makes you arch into him. He gives your other breast equal attention until you're moaning and panting beneath him. 
He retreats to relive himself of his armor. If there’s any remaining pain in his wings, he doesn’t show it. He steps close and positions himself between your legs, peering down at you. You reach out a hesitant hand and hover it over the tip of his wing. He watches your movements with rapt attention, nearly holding his breath with anticipation. 
You brush a featherlight touch along the crest of his wings, and that touch alone is enough to cause him to shudder and groan under his breath. You can’t imagine how he stood still for so long earlier. 
You reach down and tug at the hem of his shirt, wanting it off. He obliges, tossing it aside, returning his attention to you. You take him in slowly, dragging a hand down the hard line of his abs, tracing his tattoos with your finger. He waits patiently, letting you have your fill. Unable to help yourself, you glance down at his hardness again, breath faltering as you take in exactly how big he is. From a distance, it seemed reasonable, but from this close…
He reaches out a hand to cup your face, peering into your eyes. “Are you sure you want this?”
Without a moment's hesitation, you say. “Yes. I want this Azriel. I want you.”
You watch relief flash in his eyes before he resumes his movements. His hands go to your waistband, and he unbuttons your pants before leaning in to whisper, “Lift your hips for me, “Y/N.”
You do as he says, positioning yourself so he can slide your pants over your hips and cast them aside. He repeats this motion with your underwear, baring you completely to him. And before you can even consider what’s to come next, he lowers himself to his knees in front of the desk, bringing his face directly in line with where you need him most. He places one long lick from your entrance to your crest, drawing a ragged gasp from you, then pulls away. 
“Y/N.”
“Yes?” Your mind spins, because as he’s talking, his mouth is hovering over you and you can feel his breath as he speaks. 
He dips a finger between your folds, dragging it up to circle your clit. “I’m gonna get you ready now so you can take me comfortably, alright?”
You hardly register what he’s saying, because his finger is moving fervently against you and you can already feel that coil of pleasure within you. You give a short nod in response. 
Then, as quickly as it came, the pressure on your clit is gone. You look down to see him peering up at you, waiting for an answer. What did he say again?
He must sense you drawing a blank, because he smirks and repeats himself. “I need you to be good and do as I say so you can take me fully. Okay, Y/N?” 
“Oh… Yes. Okay,” you nod fervently. It’s then you realize exactly what he’s saying to you. You heard rumors around the inner circle that Azriel had the biggest… wingspan… but you never imagined anything close to this.
Satisfied with your answer, he resumes again, lowering his mouth to take the place of his finger. He circles his tongue around your clit, then sucks gently. You’re already seeing stars when you feel his finger at his entrance and he slowly slides it into you. 
You moan and arch off the desk, hands flying to his head to tangle in his hair. You chance a glance down at him, and the sight of him kneeling before you, wings looming over his shoulders, eyes dark with lust, almost sends you over the edge then and there. 
He begins to pump into you slowly, curling every so often to hit a spot that makes you writhe and moan. You’re just at the crest of your orgasm when he adds another finger. You hadn’t expected it, and the new sensation causes your hips to jerk as you gasp in pleasure. 
“Azriel I’m gonna—”
“Not yet,” he murmurs. “Hold on a little longer for me, Y/N.”
You curse, trying to dampen the pleasure growing inside you. It’s all too much, and you have to bring your hand to your mouth and bite on your knuckle to keep from coming. He slows his movements for a moment, purposefully torturing you and keeping you on that edge. 
A moment later, everything resumes with increased intensity. He pushes a third finger inside you, stretching you in a way you’ve never felt before. You gasp, shutting your eyes against the pleasure, and when you open them again, he is standing in front of you, never stopping the pace of his fingers. He raises his other hand to circle your clit. The pleasure reaches a new crest, and you find yourself grasping onto the desk just to find something to ground you. 
“That's it. Come for me now,” he whispers, eyes never leaving you as the orgasm washes over you. You shudder as you come down from it, hips bucking against his hand. When you finally open your eyes you find your hand intertwined with his.
He gazes down at you, and the hint of a smile crosses his face. “Beautiful. Fucking perfect, Y/N.”
You blush and attempt to catch your breath as he rids himself of his pants and aligns himself with your entrance. You cast a glance down, taking him in in all his glory. He rubs his tip through your folds and sighs at the contact, before leaning in to give you a kiss. 
“Tell me if it hurts and we’ll stop,” he promises. You nod, dismissing his worries. You sincerely doubt he could do anything to hurt you based on how amazing you’ve felt so far. And regardless, you trust him, trust the rigid self control he’s shown you all these months in the house together. 
You feel his tip prodding your entrance, then he sinks the first few inches in. You sigh at the sensation, tilting your head to steal a kiss. With that for motivation, he pushes in a little further, looking down at you with worry in his eyes. 
“Okay?” he asks.
You let out a breathless laugh, “Better than okay.”
You watch his face soften, and he pushes the boundary a bit further. You look down to watch him sink in, and are shocked to see he’s only halfway sheathed. You can already feel yourself beginning to stretch around him. The feeling is foreign, but not painful. 
When you look back up at him, his face is strained in an expression that nearly looks painful. He’s holding himself back, hesitating to keep a firm grip on that iron self control of his. You reach up to run your hand through his hair, catching his eyes. 
“I’m okay Azriel. I’m not going to break,” you reassure him. 
You can tell by his curt not that he doesn’t believe it. He advances another slow, languid inch, and you buck against him impatiently. 
“Azriel,” you level him a look.
He sighs. “I know. I just don’t want to hurt you. You’re still human and—”
“And I’m okay. This is okay. This is good.” You rotate your hips enjoying the pleasurable sensation it brings. He hisses through his teeth above you, and his hips jerk forward only slightly. You enjoy pushing him, enjoy making him lose control.
But there's still so much of him left, and you can’t stand the delicate line he’s walking. You want him fully, and you want him now. You reach behind him, grabbing his ass to shove him the rest of the way in. You gasp as he makes a strangled sound above you. There’s a hint of the pain he was so worried about, but it falls to the wayside as you're entirely overwhelmed by pleasure. 
“Fuck,” he groans as he finally starts to move freely. Slowly at first, then with increased urgency. He pulls his hips back and rolls them into you, hitting a spot so deep within you it feels like you’re one in the same. You watch as his control slips, and his hips snap into you, inching you backwards on the desk. 
“Yes, Azriel, yes,” you tell him as he picks up the pace, fucking you so hard the desk begins to bang against the wall and your eyes roll back in your head. Fucking Azriel is a sensation unlike any you’ve known before. He fills you perfectly, bending to place kisses along your breasts and collarbones. Holding your hips to slam into you at an impeccable pace. 
He shifts, looping his arms under your knees, and then there’s only air beneath you as he picks you up and presses you against the wall, fucking you into it. You gasp and weave your hands into his hair, tugging lightly. You feel his thrust getting quicker, jerkier, but before he comes he switches you again, bending you over the desk and fucking you from behind. You cry out at the change in angle, and your hands fly to the edge of the desk, holding tightly.
You feel him leaning over you as he places a kiss on your back. “This is what I wanted. Everytime I avoided you, everytime I pushed you away, it was because of how badly I wanted this.” He punctuates the last word with a particularly hard thrust and you cry out as you feel his hand intertwine with your hair. It all becomes too much, and you feel yourself approaching the edge again when he wraps a hand around to your front, finding your clit and sending you spiraling. He fucks you through it, steady, hard, barely giving you a chance to come down before his hips jerk and you feel him finish. He curses, seating himself fully inside you as he rides out his orgasm.
When he pulls out, you are panting and breathless and sated with pleasure. You turn around to see his shadows scattered across the room, filling every crevice and corner.
It’s then that you both hear footsteps coming down the hall. His eyes widen, and he hurriedly steps in front of you to block you from view, covering himself with his hands. 
Cassian round the corner, fury in his gaze. “What the fuck Azriel. The entire city is covered in shadows. Rhysand thinks you’re– Oh.” He stops in his tracks, cheeks turning pink as he lifts a hand to cover his eyes. 
“Cassian?” Azriel says, his voice strained.
“Yea?” His voice sounds choked in his throat.
“Get the fuck out.” 
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dark-night-hero · 17 days
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"So it's true! You and her- Guizhong were a thing. Then what the hell does that make me Morax?!" "Can you just drop it of? We're in a hurry." He was tired. And their friend was in danger. "No! Knowing you'll be out there to save your other lover, tell me the truth Morax! Is it true?!" It was the same topic of argument for some time now. He had been denying it over and over again, he just cannot seem to understand why you kept insisting even after hearing him say that was not the case. And he was getting tired of it.
Guizhong was just a friend and that very same friend is now in danger if they do not arrive at rhe right time and here he is getting hold up because of your questions. And knowing you would not let him go even if he were to deny it because that was the truth. Maybe he should give in for now to avoid further more questioning and leave as fast as he can so he could come back to you in now time, knowing that he could easily resolve the misunderstanding and his lies. "You know what. It's true. Now if you just get out of the way, I need to save her." "Wha-what? Wa-wait! Morax-!"
He did not mean to be harsh than he already is. He was just mad, mad because he saw no reason why you should get jealous of a friend, a common friend of yours. Mad because he was running late and a little more than to it could possibly result the death of a dear friend. At the same time, he was mad at himself for leaving that way. But he knew he could always explain when he came back into you. The two of you could always sort it out after the battle like you two always does.
So why? So why in the world- celestia were everything was on fire. And you were in the middle of it, leaning on your weapon for support, blood running down all the way from your temple into your chin. It was not just that. You are bleeding, bleeding all over. Why. Why why why why why? Just what the hell happened in here?
"Don't come." You utter, despite the fact that you could barely stand, you painfully look forward to your lover... heh, can he still be called a lover when he already admitted that he betrayed you? "Some..." you pant. "Some beings came into the city while you were away... hahh, I manage to defend the city until all the people manage to flee but- cough! Hahh, the god manage to escape."
"No. No no no no no." It was getting hard to breathe, nevertheless you should see Morax from afar, running towards you. "Bastard- I told you not to come he-!" You stagger forward, for a moment losing consciousness, still, you embrace yourself with the thought of you hitting the ground. But you never did.
"Let go." "It was a lie. There was no one else." "Morax- I said-" "I was in a hurry, I did not mean to say those words. Guizhong was only a friend. Believe me. God- Celestia. There is no one else. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please don't leave me." He was hugging, cradling you in his arms. His tears rolling down his cheeks, into your own but you were feeling quite numb to notice that.
"It's..." You tried to hold up a hand but you could only feel the pain and the more it drains you. In the end you could only hold on into his arm. "It's okay... you don't have to lie to make me... feel better." You tried to smile to make him feel better, so why does it look like he was about to lose his whole world? "No. No please. It's nothing like that. I was a fool, I am a fool. Please believe me there is no one else but you. (First name). Please."
You knew he was talking, you can see him talking despite how things were slowly starting to go blurr, you can hear a few words but cannot seemed to focus on it when there is a high pitched ring that makes you unable to focus on what he was saying. Also, "It's cold." You mumble, fighting everything you can to stay conscious.
"Fuck!" Morax can feel your body slowly but surely cooling down. Suddenly his heart dropped as he panicked, he was getting anxious. He felt fear for the first time in his life. "Hold on, please hold on." He tried, he tried his best to fix you with his powers but it was no avail. You have so many wounds, you have already lost a lot of blood. You were dying all ago. "Fuck." He cursed once again. "Fuck, fuck! I told you to hold on (First name)!" He was getting mad again.
Morax felt like he was going mad, he felt like he was about to get crazy. Specially when he saw you starting to close your eyes. He felt a shiver down his spine. "Don't you dare close your eyes (First name)!" Not like this, not when you seemed to sure that he never loved- love you. "Fuck!" His amber iris were glowing with that presence of a dragon. "Don't you dare fell asleep (First name). I'm begging you please-?" He felt a light squeeze on his arm.
"Its.. okay." Taking your last breath, Morax felt the heavy weight of your now dead body in his arms. Your hand falling to your side as your head rest in his chest. At that very moment a rain drop fell from the sky, Morax arms were trembling yet still manage to pull you closer to him as if trying to find a little warmth. "Hah, hahaha. HAHAHAHAHAHA."
That day, the dragon lost his mate. His one and only mate as his anguish cries were heard all throughout their land.
[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2024°
: bye, may klase pa ko ng alas quatro sa hapon.
: Also, why is it always zhongli who become the victim of my angst ideas. Tho I might make a same promt with ???
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yawnderu · 4 months
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"Quit lookin' at me like that." He demands, accent growing thicker by the minute at his frustration.
"Like what?" You manage to gasp out, cheeks swollen and bloody at the beating you just took. Your hands are clasped together on your lap, forced to sir on your knees as you look up at him.
What stared back at you wasn't your loving Simon, no— this creature was much different. Ghost was glaring down at you, eyes cold and devoid of emotion other than pure, raw anger.
"Like a fuckin' lost puppy. Like you don't know what you did." His grip on the trigger tightens, holding the muzzle to your temple.
Please, tell me it isn't true. For the love of God, tell me it's all a lie.
"You leaked our information to fuckin' Konni?" He asks in disbelief, just wanting to confirm what he knew all along. It all connected once he found out; the late night escapades, the detached look in your eyes, how you kept missing every single celebration with the team claiming you were busy. Maybe if he noticed sooner, things would have been different.
Your silence and the way your head hangs low in shame is all the confirmation he needs. His gloved hand grips the pistol harder, the rough material almost merging with his skin.
You don't even have the courage to look at me.
"Everythin' we did together... I trusted you with my bloody life. I told you all my secrets and let you see all of me, and this is how you fuckin' pay me?" He doesn't even wait for an answer, three silenced gunshots ringing in his ears as he dumps the bullets into your chest, looking away before he hears the familiar thud of a body hitting the ground.
Goddammit. God damn it all to fucking hell.
Simon chokes on a harsh breath, the corners of his mouth twisting into a frown underneath his balaclava, jaw slackening. He doesn't dare look at you, unwilling to let his last image of you be a pool of blood with dead eyes.
He cried all his tears when he was a little kid, yet he can somehow feel the familiar sting in his eyes, causing him to sigh loudly and shake his head. His pistol goes back in its holster as he turned to leave, not sparing you a single glance.
Dying alone is a scary thought. You come to the world in a room full of people, your mother's happy face looking at her own creation, nurses and doctors smiling and celebrating you even when all your tiny body can do is to cry.
The thought of death isn't what scares you, no. Being a soldier for the special forces only ends two ways: retirement or going home in a box. That's something you came to terms with a long time ago, when your much younger hand held the pen, signing the contract that sold your soul to your comrades, a silent eternal promise of "we fight together, and we die together".
Your shaky hands grasp at the snow as you drag yourself forward, gear all of sudden heavier than ever; crushing you down like Atlas holding the sky. Your blood leaves a dirty trail on the pure, clean snow, marking you down as an easy target if Simon decides to come back for you— you know Ghost won't.
By the time someone manages to find you, your fingers are purple and your lips are painted an awful shade of blue, body adorned with burns from the cold snow digging into your bare skin. You allow yourself to rest as soon as the warmth of someone's hand makes contact with your skin, barely able to register the panicked scream and loud orders being barked.
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Labeled as a hero after saving the country from Makarov's terrorist attack, Simon sported a new brand of chest candy on his uniform. Colorful ribbons adorned the right side of his blazer. His chest is still puffed out with pride as he steps into his small flat in London, all memories of you thrown away, including the ring he kept hidden in a drawer.
''Cute shoulder pads.'' Your finger hovers above the trigger, finally stepping out of the dark.
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woewriting · 5 months
Text
BLOODLINES wednesday addams x vampire!reader
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tags. mdni, +18 only! blood mention/drinking, reader's a vampire duh, no pronouns used, thigh riding, small master x pet dynamics at the end. word count. 1595 a/n. first wdw in weeks... just a small thing for my vampire fellas. | masterlist
──
Your leg bounced up and down, the almost inaudible sound of the heel of your shoes hitting the wooden floor annoying the girl sitting next to you on the bed, the movements of your legs and the way you chewed on your bottom lip enough to get her annoyed.
Closing the book, Wednesday turned to you, eyes alternating between the irritating move and your features.
“Can you stop with that infuriating sound? It’s distracting me.”
“Uh?” You look at Wednesday, eyes darting from yours to your bouncing leg in a silent answer. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice it.”
“Now that you do, stop it.”
“I can’t control it.”
Wednesday took a deep breath, bringing her hand to rest on top of your knee, forcing you to stop. Somehow, your leg was still shaking under her touch and now, a heatwave spread inside your body at the sudden touch, a bright red color threatening to take over your vision, a sharp pain in your gums.
You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths and trying to take control over your instincts. But Addams being so close to you with her almost unnoticeable perfume and hand on your thigh, it was hard and any small thing coming from her was enough to get you to lose control.
“You’re starving, aren’t you?” All you could do was nod, not wanting her to see the sharp fangs that sunk on the inside of your mouth. Removing her hand from your leg, you felt a weight being placed on top of your body instead. “Open your eyes, let me take a look at them.”
“No,” you whispered, shaking your head.
“I wasn’t asking. Open them now and look at me.”
Despise the calming way she spoke, her words and demanding tone were enough to get you to do as you were told, unable to resist the smell she had; It was like a spell placed on you.
Wednesday brought her hands to your face, opening your lips to see the sharp fangs you were hiding, pressing the tip of a finger under one, a single drop of raven blood poking out of the small wound was enough to cover your lower lip with her movement.
“Wends…” You warned with a hoarse voice, controlling the impulse to lick the sweet blood off of your lip.
The dark, silky sheets under your hands ripping off around your nails, stopping you from digging the skin of her waist. Knowing Wednesday, she would definitely make you pay for a new set.
Ignoring the warning timbre in your voice, Wednesday opened her white blouse, dragging the fabric away from her shoulder area along with the strip of her bra.
“Take it.”
“No.”
“If you want to keep that snarky tongue of yours, I suggest you to stop fighting and just do as I am telling you to.”
The second you focused on the cold, pale skin, of her neck, everything around you turned red, melting as you caught the sound of her blood flowing through her body, the steady pace of her heartbeat, muffling every small sound that surrounded the both of you.
All you could hear, see and smell, came from the small girl sitting on your lap. And that was all that matters.
The red, warm, sweet blood that kept her alive. The blood of a Raven, Wednesday being the last one of her bloodline known to you.
Noticing the lack of motion coming from your frozen body, the Addams girl gently tugged you by the back of your head, bringing you closer to her.
“Take it.” She whispered; fingers lost in your hair. “It’s all yours.”
“All mine…” You replied, lost in your red reality, barely processing what left her lips, all you could hear, loud and clear, was the pumping of her jugular, the sweet blood rushing through her veins.
Leaning in, your nose brushed on the cold skin, taking a deep breath. The ghostly touch causing the other to close her eyes. You opened your mouth, enough for the tip of your tongue to touch her, a surprised sigh coming from Wednesday.
“I profoundly hate when you do that.”
“Are you sure? Because I can hear every beat of your heart.” You placed a kissed near her collarbones. “And the way your thighs are pressing against mine.” Another kiss, a little bit higher.
“Stop talking. It’s an order.”
You laughed against her, hands slowly moving from the silky sheets to her thighs. “You’re in no place to boss me around, Addams.”
“I thought you enjoyed being my little pet.”
“I enjoy more when you’re my prey.”
Looking into your eyes, Wednesday could barely see the color of it, dark red mixed with golden strings covering most of your iris, pupils dilated in a black color. The veins under your eyes, disappearing and appearing as if it was following the beat of a music, little did she know it was synchronized with her own heartbeat.
It always felt like that, to be under her spell, if felt paralyzing, something in the way Wednesday smelled and tasted like, so sweet it was like drinking honey.
For her, having your teeth sinking in her neck, poison spreading through your saliva turning the pain into pleasure in just a few seconds. She would never admit, but being your personal blood bag made the pain settle in between her thighs.
She needed you as much as you needed her.
Why else would she sit on your lap and keep you around? Allowing you to follow every single step of hers like a lost puppy, holding you on a tight leash, stopping you from biting others like a misbehaved puppy.
Gulping, she licked her lips, your eyes following every single movement of her body. She felt like an addicted waiting for the next jet of poison, it’s been days since the last time you fed on her.
“Did you drink from somebody else?” You shook your head. You tried to, actually, blood bags, human blood straight from the vein, animal blood that you captured with Eugene’s help; they all tasted like garbage. “Then why are you refusing to do as I tell you to?”
“Because I don’t want to hurt you.”
A small grin tugged on her lips. “I want you to hurt me.”
A gush of adrenaline ran in the veins under your eyes the second you heard her whisper, eyes filled with a specific glow that you almost never see in Wednesday: excitement.
The moment your fangs dug in the cold skin, a low moan escaped between Wednesday’s parted lips, the fingers in your hair pulling you impossible closer. The hot, thick red liquid filled your mouth, the iron taste almost unnoticeable, being replaced by a sweet taste that only she had.
Throwing her head back in an attempt to give you more access to her neck, she didn’t even notice that small rhythm her hips were following against your legs, rubbing herself on you. Her scent, stronger than ever, filling every centimeter of your lungs like smoke.
Moving your hands to her hips, you bruised the covered skin as you helped her steady movements. Opening her lips to take a deep breath soon became a breathless moan, your name escaping her parted lips as you drank more and more from her, the poison spreading through her veins as you lick the open wound, capturing what escaped from your hungry mouth before biting her again.
Wednesday was weak in your arms, the hot feeling in the pit of her stomach getting hotter and hotter as she rounded her hips on your leg, a wet stain on the fabric of your jeans as she came, eyes rolling to the back of her head and body falling back, being held by your hands.
Switching positions, you laid the small girl on her bed, dark silky sheets embracing her body as you laid on top of her to lick around her neck, not wasting a single drop of the precious blood that you couldn’t go without.
Kissing your way up to her face, Addams still had her eyes closed, a fainted reddish color spread on her cheeks as she came down from her high. When she opened her eyes, she was met with your golden ones, shining like a star in the night sky. She caressed your face, thumb swiping your lips to collect the thick liquid that covered them before gently sucking on them, maintaining the eye contact; a satisfied hum in her throat.
“Kiss me. I want to taste my blood on your tongue.”
As she commanded, you connected your lips together in a kiss that was soft at first, turning to bruising and desperate as her legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you in, lips wrapping around your tongue to get more of it before she breaks the kiss, hands moving to your shoulders.
“What are you doing?” You asked, confused, as she tried to push you down, but you, being stronger than her, didn’t move an inch.
“I need your tongue somewhere else, and I need it now, so be a good pet and collaborate with me.”
Wednesday was nearly screaming inside, her weak body in desperate need of you, one of the collateral damages from your poison. And the way you smelled, the way your hands touch her body, it was a lot more than just the venom that rushed in her veins, there was something else in the brownish glow that stared at you. You smiled.
“As you wish, master.”
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aesthetic-bbyg · 2 months
Note
HI I LOVE UR WORKS could I pls request like a mean dom ex bf Luke Castellan x fem reader who just canNOT get over him 🙏 it’s ok tho cuz we can get under him instead 😍 (smutty ofcccc)
DON’T STOP ~ L. CASTELLAN
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lowk based of this p link
ex!Luke Castellan x fem!reader
🎀🤍 - It’s been awkward around camp since you and Luke broke up, even worse since you miss him so much..
Oral!fem receiving , Luke being a meanie , teasing , rough&dom!Luke , squirting , sum fluff at the end
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EVEN THOUGH HE WAS YOUR EX, AND HE broke things of with you, you couldn’t help but stare at every chance you got. When he was practicing sword fighting with another camper, or when your gazes met at the picnic benches during breakfast.
And Luke hated this. It made his blood boil, those sweet looks you sent him. The innocent doe look as your round eyes widened each time he finally gave in and stared back. The few seconds he actually managed to make eye contact with you he saw that desire that he was all too familiar with swirl in your irises. Then again, it made him chuckle each time you turned away from his strong gaze, shyness overtaking you.
Yet, it made him cocky, knowing he still had that power over you despite breaking things off. It made him want to get closer and see just how much you blushed at his presence. He wanted to feel the way your body stiffened when he touched you, before eventually melting with each gentle caress. It was sick, how much pleasure it brought him to think about messing with you. But, he also couldn’t deny that he had his own desires that needed to be fulfilled. So it wasn’t all that twisted because part of that want for you was because of his own lust and not just his ego.
Even now, as Luke stares at you from across the field, his helmet adorning blue whilst yours red, he could sense that same desire seep from your body. He wanted to soothe that ache he knew pooled under those leggings you were wearing. He took the opportunity as he snuck through the trees like an animal, and saw you, guarding a red flag stuck into the dirt.
If you could even call it guarding. Your back was turned to him, picking at the flowers by your feet, you sat atop of a tree stump nearly dying of boredom. Your helmet and sword had been discarded and rest on the grass next to you. You gasped, feelings sharp tip dig into your back.
“You never learn.” A familiar voice that sent chills down your spine echoed into your ears. “How many times did I tell you, never get distracted.”
“Many times.” You replied, voice weak and small. You slowly turned your head, peeking at him over your shoulder. Your eyes holding that same doe eye look as you stared up at him innocently. He removed the faux sword from your back, squatting down to reach your height. “Luke.”
He took your chin between his fingers and thumb, staring intensely into your eyes. “You’re a stupid girl, y/n.” He leaned his so close that his lips nearly brushed over yours, “But so irresistible.”
You gulped down thickly, “Lu..”
“You’re not gonna be eating dinner tonight, you’re going to stay in your cabin.” Luke demanded, not even asking you, but stating it like it was a fact of the future.
“But—“ You stumbled over your words pathetically, breathing heavily against his pink lips that were so close and yet so far. “Luke.”
“It’s an order.” He stood up, tone cold and harsh as he ripped the flag from the ground and began walking away.
“Hey!” It was the loudest your feeble voice had been the whole interaction, your hands reaching for the sword by your side as he paused. “The whole point of the this game is to not let the opposing team win the flag.”
Luke let out a mocking laugh, turning around to look at your like you were dumb. “What, and you’re gonna fight me for it?”
You knew you didn’t stand a chance against the greatest swordsman of all of Camp Half-Blood, and yet you still allowed the words to slip your mouth. “Yes.”
He shook his head, tossing the flag aside. “Fine.” He readied his sword, pointing at you threateningly, “Have it your way.”
“Yeah.” You mumbled, mimicking his actions and sucking in a deep breath. You truly couldn’t go against Luke even if you put all your might into it. You were a fool for even instigating a dual, and that same proclamation ended in you on your stomach, cheek digging into the grass with your sword knocked across the field. Luke held both your wrist behind your back, knees on either side of your hips as his hard on pressed against your backside.
“You’re a stupid girl.” He repeated his mean words from earlier, this time so close to your ear that his breath tickled the side of your face. His grip on your was getting painful, but it felt numb as he leaned down to press a soft kiss against your temple. “You’ll learn one day.”
He stood up, releasing you from his grip as he walked away, picking the flag up and disappearing into the trees. You’re team was going to give you so much shit for this.
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THIS IS STUPID, Luke Castellan was your ex. What type of control does he have that you had to listen to him? You’d been pacing around the empty cabin during dinner time for five minutes.
“Aren’t you gonna eat, sister?” One of your siblings asked before leaving, watching you with curiosity as you laid under the covers.
“Not tonight, I feel a little sick.” You lied, even mustering up a fake whine as you gripped your stomach. “Go ahead, I’ll be fine.” And within a few moments, she was gone, and you waited and waited, which left you to pacing. “Fuck this.” You stomped towards the door, deciding that you shouldn’t listen to him, because who was he? Ordering you to do what he wanted.
“Where are you going?” Luke asked smugly as his gaze met yours when you opened the door. “I told you to stay here.”
You stepped back slowly, “I was going to eat.” Your voice had become stronger, but that didn’t mean that your mind felt anymore confident when confronting the son of Hermes.
He shut the door, following each step you took backwards by stepping forward, his smirk very clear, even in the dark atmosphere. “But I told you not go, to wait for me here.”
“Well, I’m not gonna listen to everything you say, Luke.” You stopped, feeling your legs collided again the side of one of the bunk beds. It was yours, and you could tell by the curtains you had Luke nail onto the top for extra privacy. “You’re not my boyfriend anymore.”
He let out another chuckle, something about your words had entertained him so much that he’d revealed his pearly canines. But in a split second it dropped, he hurled at you, pushing you against the bed and pining your arms above your head. You’d be lying if you said that this didn’t soak your panties almost immediately.
“I tell you do things, baby, ‘cause you don’t know how to do them yourself.” Luke whispered into your neck, planting sweet kisses along it’s curve and your shoulder. Then he began sucking, leaving bruises behind and then soothing them by licking gently against the purple skin. “Did I really fuck you so dumb that you just can’t comprehend when someone tells what to do.”
You sigh at his touch, “Stop calling me stupid, Luke.”
He huffed out a laugh, trailing further down your chest kissing at the tops of your tits that spilled out the white tank top you had on. “It’s what you are, I mean, you can hardly form a sentence when I just so much as look at you.”
You whine, “I can speak for myself.” You said in a whisper, tugging at the grip he had on your wrist.
He lifted his head from it’s spot in the valley of your tits. “Then tell me,” He took one hand, still restraining you with the other, “what do you want.” You went silent, brain going foggy as he inched a warm hand under your tank top, under your bra. “I said, what do you want me to do, stupid girl.”
You whined, “Fuck, I want you to eat me out.” Your tone was meant to come out a lot more stronger then it actually did, it nearly sounded like you were pleading.
“Aww, look at my girl, finally learning a new thing.” He cooed, letting go of your wrist and lifting his head from your chest. He caressed your face, eyes lowering down to your lips and inching closer just like how he did in the forest earlier. “I really meant it when I said your irresistible, baby.” He whispered, kissing your cheek, purposely avoiding your lips. “I‘ve missed your taste.”
“Then why have you been a dickhead and ignoring me since we broke up.” You muttered, bringing your now free hands to wonder up and down his toned arms. “You could’ve had me if you wanted me.”
He chuckled, “Trust me, I’ve been doing anything but ignoring.” He squeezed your hip, finally dipping his head to kiss you desperately. It was a messy and hot kiss, full of desire, clashing teeth, and tongue. Your hands had lifted to cup his face, eyes pressed shut as you took in this long awaited make out. Nothing could describe the lust that emitted from the kiss alone, how heavy the both of you inhaled through your nose, refusing to part your mouths and breath.
But it eventually had to come, Luke grew impatient and hungry as he was the first to pull away, dragging your hips to the edge of the bed roughly. He fell to his knees in a heartbeat, pulling off your shorts in one swift move and shoving your panties the side. He then folded your legs just enough so your whole cunt was exposed and openly glistening in the little bit of light that illuminated the cabin.
He nearly came just at the sight of it, leaning down to begin his feverish licking and sucking on your folds. You let out a surprised moan, not expecting him to dive into your pussy like a starved man. Your hand flew to his dark curls, the other gripping the pretty pink sheets you already knew were going to be ruined by the time he was finished.
After all, dinner time was a whole hour and thirty, giving him plenty of time to enjoy his meal without stop. Luke flicked his tongue in and out your hole teasingly before moving to suck on your clit loudly. The noises were disgusting, a sloppy combination of slurping and high pitched moans. He lightly shook his head against you, digging his features into you, his grip on your thighs tightening each time you attempted to push them down.
“Fuck, Luke, don’t stop, don’t stop!” You moaned, legs trembling at the way he worked his tongue against you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You nearly screamed, your grip on his curls painful but he didn’t even mind it. He didn’t even flinch as you began to leak milky cum from your cunt, he just continued to lick at your sensitive bud. You did everything in your power to try and get him away, pushing at his shoulders, gripping his arms, shoving away his face, letting out choked whines of surrender. “I can’t—“ Each feeble attempt in getting your point across was interrupted by your own moans and squeaks as he brushed over your overstimulated clit.
You’re pussy was probably a mess of spit, cum, and arousal mixing together, yet something about that was so addictive to Luke. It wasn’t like he didn’t hear your pleas, or that he was ignoring them, he truly couldn’t pull away. He was letting animalistic groans each times he swiped his tongue onto your pussy, letting the wetness fill his taste buds.
He couldn’t help it when he just pushed your legs closer to your chest whenever you squirmed and attempted to push the closed. He heard you whines and it only fed his own pleasure, his licks became quicker, more messy if that was even possible. He was out of breath and heaving, yet didn’t pull back for a second, he just kept stuffing his face back into your cunt. He noted the way you nearly screamed whenever he fucked his tongue into and rolled with it, repeating the motion as his nose stimulated your clit.
With that you were letting out the most pornographic moans he’d ever heard come from you. Your attempts to shove him away for noticeably more frantic and aggressive, you’re whines, despite being almost unintelligible, begged for him to stop. There was a overwhelmingly tight coil in your stomach that just felt different compared to your last orgasm, it went from your stomach and moved down in waves. Before you could let another push to his shoulder you threw your head back and gripped the sheets desperately. You heard a gentle squelch, very faint but it made your eyes widen in horror as you sat up at stared down at Luke.
He finally pulled away, wiping away at the wetness that dropped down his chin and onto his neck. He fell back on his knees, a drowsy smirk on his lips and heavy eyelids that stared back at you. You squirted, and all over his face at that. “Fuck.” Was all he could mutter, biting his lower lip as he stared at you. “That was..so fuckin’ hot, baby.”
You blushed, hiding your face in your hands as you groaned. “I made a mess.”
He leaned up, removing your hands and lightly pecking your lips. “A beautiful mess, baby.” He whispered, “I bet I can make it happen again.”
“No!” You squeezed your legs shut, shoving his shoulder as he laughed, gently caressing your thigh. “Dinner is almost over and you need to leave before anyone notices you were here in the first place.”
“I don’t care if they see me, they probably already heard you.” He stood up, making you notice the painful bulge that outline the cargo shorts he had on.
“Oh, fuck, Luke.” You whispered. He didn’t have to ask what you were referring to with your pitiful tone as you stared at his hardened dick without shame.
“Don’t worry about.” He reassured, digging into his pocket to pull out a picture. “I’ve got you to help me out later in the night.” With closer examination, you noticed that it was an old photo that he’d taken months before the breakup. You laid down on a bed, shirt lifted just enough to show your tits, legs spread open with a cock shoved in your cunt.
“You’re dirty.” You slapped his leg, but a sheepish smile betrayed any ounce of annoyance you were trying to display. You leaned down to grab your shorts, but before you put them back on you paused. You looked up at Luke, who wasn’t paying attention as he slipped the photo back into his side pocket, and then at your lap. You stood up and slipped out of your panties, balling them up and offering it to Luke like a present. “You can have ‘em, they’re ruined because of you anyway and it could be useful for helping you later.”
Luke let out a chuckle, not even blinking as he took them and shoved them into his pocket. “Thank you.” He took your waist, his hand trailing down to the plush cheeks of your ass and squeezing the flesh. He leaned into close of the night with a another hungry kiss, except he replaced the painful lust with love and devotion. He regretted ever letting you escape his arms, and knew that he wouldn’t do it again, no matter what. He kneeled down, picking up the shorts he’d discarded and lightly kiss your thigh, you stepped into them, watching with admiration as he dragged them back up.
“I love you.” You weren’t sure if maybe it was too soon to confidently say the words once more but part of you didn’t care.
Luke didn’t know either, but he definitely knew in his whole heart that he didn’t give a fuck. “I love you too.” You walked to the cabin door, feeling a pool of dread as he opened it and slowly let go of your hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You nodded, giving him a smile before he was gone, the door shutting completely with a quiet click.
“Hey, Luke, where were ya?” You heard a fellow camper call out just moments after Luke’s exit. “Didn’t get some dinner before bed?”
“Nah, man, don’t worry.” Luke shrugged it off, he voice getting more faint the farther he went, but you definitely heard him say: “I already ate.”
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Natti speaks !!: I actually ended up liking this way more than I thought so a big thank u to the person who sent this request in🫶🏼🫶🏼 Luke Castellan is js to fine and he needs to be stopped.
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
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loveinhawkins · 10 months
Text
The problem is that a part of Steve knows the spider isn’t real.
But it’s the suggestion of it, right? Cobwebs in his hair, movement just out the corner of his eye; it’s all enough to convince him that there’s something crawling on his skin, to let out a panicked whisper to Nancy, there was a spider. It’s a black widow.
He tries to disregard it as a one-off. It’s an old creepy house. Just got him spooked for a bit, that’s all.
But then… diving into Lover’s Lake. Bats biting into his flesh. Overwhelming dizziness.
Nancy wrapping torn strips of clothing tight around—there’s something crawling, crawling underneath his skin, no, there isn’t, no, there—a bike ride through The Upside Down; one hacking cough, pushing through it, pushing through it—
Swallows it all down. Ignores the sweat, the tackiness around his bandage. Shh. Calm, calm.
Drives the RV. Doesn’t know how he’s even moving, is just grateful—grateful that his mind on autopilot seems to still function.
The War Zone. In and out. Parked. Sun in his eyes. Kids outside.
The feeling comes back. Something. Something under his skin. (In his blood, in all of him—)
“S’there something in my hair?” he asks Eddie, who’s mid-step out of the RV.
Eddie turns back with an air of amusement. “Nope,” he says. “Looks perfectly coiffed to me, man.”
“Can you—can you just check?”
Look closer, something’s wrong, something’s wrong.
“Uh, sure,” Eddie says, bemused. He sits next to Steve and tilts his head before lifting a hand uncertainly. “You want me to, uh?”
“Yeah, thanks. Just… there was a spider on me.”
It’s not what Steve wants to say at all, but there’s a sudden, terrifying disconnect between the thoughts in his head and what actually comes out of his mouth.
“Oh, you don’t like them, huh?”
Eddie’s not even teasing, just sounds understanding; he lifts up a few sections of hair carefully, taking his time. He’s so kind. Steve abruptly wants to cry.
“Yeah, I don’t blame you,” Eddie continues. “I have the same thing with mice. The way they move. Creepy little feet.” He shudders dramatically.
Steve wants to laugh at that. Can’t.
Eddie runs his fingers through Steve’s hair a couple more times, gentle.
You don’t have to, Steve thinks. Make it hurt. Get it out. Did you find it? Please say you found it.
“Good news, you’re officially spider-free, Harrington.”
Eddie claps him on the shoulder, stands up.
Steve doesn’t move.
Eddie pauses again, halfway out the door. “Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah,” Steve says. “Just need some air.”
He goes through the motions of prepping for the fight. Chats with Robin. She talks about a terrible, gnawing feeling, and he wants to scream yes, I know, I know, but he can’t tell her, why can’t he tell her?
Shh. Calm, calm.
Drives the RV. Forest Hills.
He brakes with no warning, sends bottles of alcohol rolling across the floor. He’s mad suddenly that they didn’t smash. He’s so—
Slip away.
Eddie’s trailer. Lets himself in.
Bathroom.
The wound on his stomach pulses. He doubles over the toilet. Throws up.
His skin is crawling.
There, in the back of his mind, a creeping coldness. A thought that is not his own.
I will kill them all. And I will make you watch.
Oh, God. Oh, God, he’s been so stupid.
-
Eddie finds him first.
He picks up one fallen bottle of alcohol before a gut feeling pulls him out of the RV—because Steve Harrington is a good driver, and he’d only brake like that if he had no choice.
“Steve?”
But Steve’s not waiting for them on the porch, he’s not even by the Gate.
Clattering; a strangled cry.
Eddie’s stomach lurches.
He runs towards the noise, opens the bathroom door and is instantly hit by the acrid smell of vomit.
“Steve! Jesus Christ.”
Steve’s pushed up against the cistern. There’s a damp patch all across his stomach, and his chest is heaving.
“Oh my God, Steve, what’s—”
Eddie reaches for him instinctively, and Steve flinches as if he’s been struck.
“No, don’t!”
“Jesus, you’re burning up,” Eddie whispers, drawing his hand back; Steve’s skin is feverishly hot, slick with sweat. He looks around frantically for a cloth, turns on the cold water. “Gotta get you cooled—”
Something slams into him; he’s pinned against the sink, Steve’s hand clamped around his throat.
“No,” Steve repeats. “Don’t.”
“Okay,” Eddie manages. He chokes on a swallow. “S-Steve, you’re—you’re—”
His hand flails, trying to pry Steve’s fingers off.
Steve’s grip loosens ever so slightly. His eyes are wide, bloodshot. Pleading.
“Eddie,” he says through gritted teeth. “You need to hurt me.”
With the last of his strength, Eddie gets his knee up and jabs—it’s barely anything, but it works enough to break Steve’s hold.
Eddie staggers; his back slams against the door. He’s shaking.
Steve stares at him. He’s gripping onto the sink so tightly that Eddie thinks it’s a miracle that it doesn’t crack.
And then there’s a horrible, guttural noise like Steve’s started to choke too, like he’s at war with himself.
Barely audible, he says, “Get… get Nancy.”
Eddie runs.
He nearly falls into Nancy as he opens the front door. He’s breathless, can’t think of what to say, save from—
“Wheeler, he needs you.”
It happens in an instant: Nancy’s brow pinches, and then she goes very pale, and she’s shouting for Robin and Dustin to stay in the RV, like she can turn on a dime, launched into an unknown crisis.
She pushes past Eddie, and he follows her, back into the bathroom.
The cold water is still running.
Steve’s got his hands in the sink. He looks at Nancy desperately.
“S-stop me.”
Another choking sound is ripped from Steve’s throat; Eddie realises that it’s actually a dry sob.
“Nance,” Steve says. It’s half her name, half a pained whine. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I—I know everything.”
And then he’s suddenly launching towards them—it’s only the fact that he’s so completely freaked out that makes Eddie move in time, saves him from getting strangled again.
He grabs Steve’s wet hands, pins them behind his back and tries to hold him still.
“Jesus! Wheeler, what the fuck is going—”
“Do you have anything that can knock him out?” Nancy says.
“What?”
“Drugs, Eddie!”
“Are you crazy? There’s no way—oh my God, what are you—”
Crack.
Nancy’s grabbed the cistern lid, brought it down upon Steve’s head. Eddie looks at Steve lying eerily still on the floor in abject horror.
There’s blood in his hair.
Eddie feels sick.
But Nancy just watches, as if to confirm that Steve’s not moving. She looks Eddie in the eye.
“Come on. That’s only gonna work for so long.”
Eddie just follows her out, too shocked to even attempt speaking.
It’s chaotic at the RV; Dustin sees them coming, leaps out of the door as Robin yells at him.
“Where’s Steve?”
“Get back inside.”
“Nancy, where the hell is he?”
“We can talk inside.”
“Bullshit, I’m—”
“Dustin, he’s Flayed,” Nancy says, her voice breaking, and all the fight goes out of Dustin at once.
“No, that’s—he can’t—”
Eddie finally finds his voice. “Can someone tell me what the fuck you’re talking about?”
Nancy doesn’t speak, not until they’re in the RV, the door locked behind her.
“I think it’s the—the bites—”
Robin swears, a hand over her mouth.
“Flayed?” Eddie persists.
“The Mind Flayer,” Dustin says numbly. “It’s what we—it’s a part of The Upside Down. It—it used Will to… to spy on…”
“And what, it’s—” Eddie swallows. “It’s inside him?”
“Like a virus. He’s part of the Hive Mind,” Nancy says.
Eddie’s knees feel weak.
“Fuck,” Dustin says. “He knows where we are, he’ll know—”
“It’s too late to change that,” Nancy says. “We just have to—at least someone needs to stay with him.”
“I will,” Robin says instantly, eyes blazing.
“Me too,” Dustin says.
Nancy glances at him, shakes her head—firm but apologetic. “You can join Erica.” And as Dustin opens his mouth, no doubt to argue, she adds, “I’m sorry, Dustin. It’s just—we might need to… to fight him.”
Dustin doesn’t reply, but looks so utterly devastated that Eddie wishes he’d insisted on diving first, that the bats had torn into him instead.
“Keep him warm,” Nancy tells Robin urgently. “And I don’t mean just—it’s got to be unbearable.”
Robin nods, ashen-faced.
Nancy catches Eddie’s eye. “The one thing that fucker can’t stand is heat.”
She paces up and down the RV, checking for stray bottles. Then she comes to a stop right in front of Robin.
“He—he might beg,” she whispers. “And it won’t—it’ll sound like him. Like he just wants the pain to stop.”
Robin’s eyes look glassy. “Nance, I don’t—don’t know if I can—”
“I’ll do it,” Eddie says.
He feels everyone’s eyes on him, but he just looks at Nancy, at the determined set to her jaw.
He doesn’t know when he made the decision, if he can even pinpoint a conscious moment of thought—but now that the words are out, he feels the vow he’s made, deep in his chest.
Nancy hands him a bottle and cloth.
A lighter.
She fixes Eddie with a piercing look. “It’s going to look like you’re killing him,” she says.
Eddie nods.
He turns, offers Robin his hand.
“C’mon, Buckley. Let’s get that bastard out of him.”
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sp00derm4n · 4 months
Text
𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞, 𝐖𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐫
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Clarisse la Rue x fem!demigod!reader
summary: your fighting lessons with clarisse are getting put to the test in a game of capture the flag. you just wished you didn't have to fight her
a/n: there's gonna be a prequel of their lessons together and maybe more parts after. this is my first work, i hope you all enjoy!
warnings: slight enemies to lovers, NICKNAMES!! (princess), clarisse falling for the reader HARD at the end
wc: 1.1k
---
"I can't do this," you exclaimed, looking between Annabeth and Luke. They shared a sympathetic glance at your revelation. You were close friends with Luke and Annabeth and, you trusted them with all your heart. But at this moment, you were starting to regret agreeing to participate in Annabeth's so-called master plan. 
Annabeth let out a sigh. "Don't worry, just follow the plan." 
You gave an exasperated look. "You mean the plan where I distract the Clarisse? The most feared prettiest person at this camp?" you emphasized. 
"Is someone talking about me?" Speak of the devil, you thought. You rolled your eyes, turning around to face the one and only Clarrise la Rue. Her mouth lifted into a smirk, and her eyes crinkled in satisfaction at your displeased expression. "Didn't know you were such a fan princess," she chuckled.
"Still not a fan of that nickname la Rue," you snapped back.
Her eyes were trained on yours, not even sparring a glance at Luke and Annabeth behind you. "I'll see you on the battlefield, princess."
---
You had wandered the forest, wishing this game would be over. Your eyes darted across your surroundings at any sudden noise you had heard. You were hoping for an uneventful Capture the Flag, not wanting to get hurt. However, luck wasn't on your side today as you didn’t expect to end up with Clarisse La Rue pointing a spear at you. 
“Where’s your little friend?” She sneered, referring to Percy Jackson, the newest camper at Camp Half-Blood. Since his arrival, she had taken a distaste for him.
Your eyes narrowed in response. "Why do you care?" you questioned, reaching for your sword. 
Clarisse's grip on her spear tightened. "I just want to have a simple chat with him." She growled, stalking closer like a predator and their prey. "Where is he," she pressed.
You scoffed at her tempered response. "There's no way in hell, I'm telling you, Clarisse." For a moment, her eyes softened as her name left your lips.
She raised her spear, "Then you leave me no choice," she snarled. Taking a step towards you, "Get out of my way, princess," she warned. The nickname made the butterflies in your stomach flutter for a moment. Not now, you thought in your head, you have a job to do. 
You raised your sword in response, praying she wouldn't be able to hear the falter in your voice. "Bring it."
The spear twirled in her grip in a practiced motion, and she lunged suddenly. Her blade shot forward with a blinding speed, aiming for your head. 
Your eyes widened at her ruthlessness, "Are you trying to kill me?" 
She smirked, "Don't take it personally, princess." Her eyes searched your face, "I just have a job to do."
You stepped back, dodging her quick attacks as if it was instinct. Your sword clashed with her spear, startling both parties. 
Clarisse was knocked back slightly, and she grunted as her spear jarred in her hand. "Good," She breathed, her face tight with cold focus as she readied another attack, "At least you're not completely useless." The spear came forward once more, aiming for a blow to your stomach.
"Well, I had a decent teacher," you playfully grinned, referring to your lessons together.
Your lessons together... Clarisse thought, and a smile crept onto her face, her spear missing you by only inches as you managed to dodge out of the way.
"I taught you well," the daughter of Ares replied, her tone smug. She launched the weapon again with a forward thrust aimed at your chest.
"Yeah," you replied. "Thought I'd put those skills to good use."
"Good use?" Clarisse smirked before she attacked once more. 
Clarisse was confident, cocky even. She was an experienced warrior. She knew she could defeat everyone, especially you, who had only just received a few lessons from her.
She came at you with another strike of the spear, hoping to end the fight quickly, secretly not wanting you to get injured. 
"You're not gonna win this battle princess. Remember, I'm the one who taught you everything you know."
You rolled your eyes at her, "We'll see about that." The comment pushed you to take the offensive, swinging your sword in an attempt to disarm her. 
Clarisse tsked as she was able to deflect the strike with the edge of her spear, though it left a small dent in the metal tip. 
She chuckled and then countered with a series of stabs towards your heart, all of which you deflected as well.
"Pretty good," She said, her smile widening. As arrogant as she was, she was proud of your skills in battle, too. She had spent some much-needed time teaching you her methods, and there had been immense improvements in your skills on the battlefield. 
You couldn't stop the blush that appeared on your cheeks at the compliment. I can't get distracted at a time like this you thought.
Clarisse noted the pink that crept on your cheeks for a moment before her attention was focused on the spear in her hand. 
She was enjoying herself in this fight, a lot more than she thought she would. There was no rush, no feeling that she needed to finish this fight quickly. She was having fun, the same kind of fun that she had the last time you guys were in combat together.
"You've gotten better, you know," She muttered as she continued attacking you again, not letting you have the chance to catch your breath.
"Thanks," you reply hastily. Your mind drifts to what Annabeth told you before the game started. Distract Clarisse. 
Clarisse's pride grew as you continued to attack her while also defending yourself. She was enjoying herself.
She moved forward even more, pressing herself against you more and more, forcing you to stay on your toes.
Your weapons clashed together, making your faces only inches apart. 
"You know you can't win, right?" She whispered, her grip on her spear never faltering.
"Lose the battle, win the war," you whispered back, looking into her eyes.
Clarisse froze, her eyes locking on yours. Her mouth opened as she heard the sound of Chiron's horn in the distance, signifying the end of the games. She felt your breath on her neck, her heart pounding in her chest as she realized how close the two of you were.
She let out a curse, her smirk growing on her face. "You did good princess." A proud look adorned her features as she continued studying your face. Although she lost, she couldn't help but smile at the thought of your battle. 
"Fuck."
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bvidzsoo · 1 month
Text
Preying on you tonight
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Author: bvidzsoo
Warning: smut, cursing, alcohol consumption, violence, bullying (nothing extreme), saying wet dog as an insult, mentions of injury and blood
Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader
Word count: 29k
Summary: Nocturnal Parade was a safe haven for creatures like yourself, vampires, and for creatures like Mingi, werewolves. After a misfortunate event, you come to hate the other kind with your whole being despite having to live in unity and peace. What happens after a drunken night spent with your enemy, a night which changes everything for forever?
A/N: Hello, lovelies!! Surprise, another Mingi oneshot! (because the brainrot is at its peak and I'm a Mingtis *cries*) I'd like to point out a few things before you start reading the story:
✦  1. I did a different take on vampires and both werewolves here, let's say, it's my version of these creatures mixed with all the lore I know about them.
✦  2. Please, please, please, imagine Halazia Era Mingi while reading this!!! And Deja Vu Era Yunho!
✦  3. This is important! For the sake of the story, the siblings are all called Song, after Mingi's surname! (I didn't mention it in the story, but Mingi's fur is white!)
✦  4. Yes, I used Katherine's surname because I have an unhealthy obsession with her and because Y/N's character was partially inspired by her. (my TVD lovers know)
Also, I feel like I accidentally made a lot of puns in the story, so don't mind me lol. I think that's all for now, and I'm veery excited to hear your thoughts about this story, so your feedback is very welcomed! I hope you enjoy it, and happy reading now! ^^
Taglist: @orshii @sharksandminhos @cheolliehugs @dollce-exe @kikiskz
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            Creatures like ourselves needed a safe haven away from the looming, close-minded, humans roaming the streets of cities, constantly pondering whether they’d fall victim next in our sharp claws. Their view of us was rather cartoonish, and disfigured, and we could only thank all those made-up legends for scaring humans away from peculiar creatures, like ourselves. We were nowhere close to being the scary monsters parents warn their children of in the bedtime stories they tell them, however, we could be dangerous if provoked and forced into an uncanny situation.
Communities have been formed a long time ago, altogether with a treaty, in hopes of making peace between the supernatural creatures roaming the same Earth as humans. However, most still didn’t take kindly of us, and therefore, we were forced out of their circles, made to fend for ourselves on our own. Laws weren’t abiding at first, quite deceitful when it came to the rights night creatures had, but after the Raging Revolution, everything changed. Humans became less animus towards us and finally started acknowledging us, step by step setting up things for us, allowing us to join their circles, of course, in a restricting and well-supervised manner. Therefore, after a party has been formed in order to defend our rights and fight for the future of the night creatures, a clergy was founded with it simultaneously, trying to prove to the humans that we were just like them, albeit a little rough and more menacing. We had the same beating hearts, the same iron and hot blood gushing through our veins; we weren’t indestructible either, and most of all, we needed the same resources as them. With the creation of the clergy, it had seemed that the humans had finally settled down, accepting us fully into their society. They remained cold to us, but they weren’t so rude and threatening anymore about their ideologies and beliefs.
This gave us the opportunities to finally meddle with them, to freely follow their footsteps, establishing a lifestyle similar to theirs. We were allowed inside their cities and towns, offered jobs and given permission to step inside the same buildings as them. Society was finally progressing after decades of oppression and pain, the night creatures were somewhat finally free from the clutches of their oppressors, living the lives our ancestors have fought so hard for. However, that did not mean that everything was joint, or that you didn’t have the choice of living secluded in the safety of your own kind. My parents have chosen to raise me up far away from the rambunctious big cities, instead settling in a heavily protected town, infused by only night creatures on the outskirts of the Haunted Woods, South from anything lively. But just because humans were scarce here, did not mean that our lives were quiet and boring. It was far from it. My life was anything but boring, childhood filled with mischief and misbehavior as I was always allowed to do whatever I wanted.
Perhaps it was the privilege of having extremely rich parents, being the descendent of a bloodline so ancient that I would get a headache trying to remember every family member that was still alive whenever we would gather for our annual new year celebratory balls. Raised in lavish and puff, I was content with the way things were, and I had no intentions of moving out of Nocturnal Parade anytime soon, if ever at all. My family had settled down here in 1250, and only those curious and adventure seeking ventured far from our homeland, sometimes returning with the promise of never wanting to join the human joint cities, with others never returning, calling our safe haven a lie and depraved of everything else the ‘real’ world had to offer us. To my parents joy, I had no such intentions, content with the Petrova family’s fortune and assets, rightfully so wanting to join the family business.
The Petrova bloodline had been around far before records were even made of humankind, they have survived plagues, wars, treason and disasters, always returning stronger and stronger, their names present in history books, marking historic events and building a community that welcomed any and all kinds of night creatures, not once discriminating anyone. There wasn’t an anarchy when it came to us, creatures, everyone was equal. That’s what the clergy preached and instilled in each one of us, however, I couldn’t help but harbor hard feelings against one kind, werewolves, more exactly. I most probably wouldn’t have had any problems against them, but an unfortunate event seemed to mark me for life, and I would carry it on with myself until the end of Earth. There was nothing and no one that could change my mind about those wild, feracious, and obnoxious animals. Even if the clergy said hating one kind meant being just the same as the humans were once towards us, I couldn’t help myself. Hating someone was not a crime, and with the deep webbed hatred in myself, not even the clergy could stop me from sending glares at those wet dogs, whispering threats at them, or making their days a living hell at our Academy.
Wilden Pine Academy was a place for Vampires and Werewolves; however, the occasional Fae and Druids would make their appearance as well. Nocturnal Parade was famous for its large population of Vampires and Werewolves alike; therefore it came as no surprise that the Academy closest to our town was littered with both kinds. A four-hour drive, deep into the Pinecone Forest, and you’d be presented with our majestic Academy, its towers high and dark for vampires not keen of sunlight, and fields widely expanding, perfect for the ever loud and restless werewolves. This place was made to bring everyone together, to strengthen the bond between the two kinds, their animosity against each other quite famous, well-known even between mere humans. And it seemed that Wilden Pine Academy did an extraordinary job at bringing vampires and werewolves to a truce, to control the deep-rooted hatred for each other, and to forge an alliance that became nondestructive over the decades as both remained on the front, fighting for the night creatures’ rights and lives. Not that those stupid history books could dictate how I would feel about such wild creatures.
The Academy was serene, with eager and passionate professors all around, spreading their knowledge about anything supernatural or quite mundane. Our curriculums were closely constructed in a way that would allow us to learn everything we needed to know about ourselves and our history, but also about the humans and their atrocious self-destructive stories. The grounds were separated in two, left wing for the vampires, and for the occasional fae folk, right wing for the werewolves and their little druid friends that would show up uninvited. Of course, there were more common grounds than one could possibly imagine here at Wilden Pine Academy, the academics following the clergy’s words like the Holy Grail. Everyone must be united at all times, discrimination between kinds to be severely punished, following the laws of the Night Creatures Rule Book. One of these said common grounds was quite unfortunately the study hall, which was open at all times, and warmly welcomed anyone who wished to catch up on their projects and homework. The separation between these two kinds was only ever present in my own mind, casting a glance upon the vast study hall, you’d realize that nobody cared who sat next to them as long as they didn’t bother them. Vampires next to werewolves were a common sighting, yet I couldn’t bring myself to stay in their vicinity for longer than three minutes. And even like that, I was being generous. I always made sure to pick the furthest table from those animals in the study hall, and was rather thankful that they weren’t stupid enough to approach my table. It didn’t take two brain cells to know I hated werewolves, and therefore, for most part they left me alone. Not that anyone had anything to say against a Petrova, now Bae, having changed our family name after the revolution due to some legal issues amongst the humankind.
People who usually came to the study hall did so because they wished to have a relaxed ambience around themselves, not quite as restrictive as the library as here you could eat, drink, and chat with your friends freely, without anyone giving you the stink eye or the librarian breathing down your neck to reprimand you. With that being said, the study hall had a friendly atmosphere made for the Academy’s students to be able to study in peace, which presented to be harder and harder to do with seconds ticking by. Of course, when a certain five wet dogs would show up, the quiet and peace wouldn’t even last for one second. Despite their table being towards the middle of the large room, and my own table towards the back, close to the large bookcases, their loud howls and laughter carried over. It blew my mind how nobody even as much as glanced their way or said anything to quieten their table down. Everyone seemed content with the ruckus they were creating, and it made my blood boil even more that I couldn’t be as unbothered as the rest of the creatures around me. But perhaps if it was a bunch of vampires being rascals, I also wouldn’t have batten an eyelash in their direction, but this was the Song family. A family I hated with my whole being, the five creatures having risen from Hell itself, marched all the way to Wilden Pine Academy to reign chaos upon its once peaceful grounds. I never thought a body could yield such strong emotions, until I met the Song boys, and girls as well, their disgusting scent alone driving me up the wall. Especially of one certain person, who smelled like an actual wet dog, mixed with fresh grass that would make anyone gag. His scent was just as atrocious as his existence, making me grit my teeth whenever I was in the vicinity of him. Which happened more often than I would have liked it to.
The Song twins, unfortunately, had been part of my life ever since I was eight years old. Not by choice, of course. If I could’ve, I would’ve eradicated their existence a very long time ago. The Song’s weren’t native to Nocturnal Parade, they have moved into our safe haven just before our first academic year would start, coating the town in chaos like never seen before. They were well-known for being loud and eccentric, their parents just as much of a bother as their children were. And there were five of them, five horrific werewolves, howling and cackling every time you’d cross their paths. Song Mingi and Song Yunho were not your identical twins, however, they did seem to resemble each other in more ways than others. Both were tall, boisterous, loud, and hyperactive to a point where once Yunho had to be sedated as he wouldn’t stop running around the fields before curfew. Despite Yunho being the louder twin, Mingi wasn’t far behind, his personality more irritating than the older twin’s one. He never failed to drop whatever he carried in his hands, bumping into anything possible as if his coordination was off—not that I had expected anything more from a filthy dog. And despite being similar, they were quite easily very different when it came to their styles. Yunho, ever colorful and peculiar when choosing his attire, his black hair highlighted with fiery red highlights, nails always painted either turquoise or yellow, and shoes mismatching for whatever mysterious reason that I really wasn’t curious about. Mingi, however, only wore dark clothes, with the occasional odd white colored graphic t-shirts—or that one funky white jacket with a bunny on it—always heavily littered with silver jewelry around his neck, wrists, and fingers, his nails never bare, always tinted black or chrome silver.
Both Yunho and Mingi had a phase, back when we were all fourteen, when they have started heavily smudging their eyes with black kohl eyeliner, always looking like pandas after we had to run around the flower fields while it rained heavily. It seemed that only Mingi stuck with the makeup, Yunho opting to experiment with different lip colors, weirdly sticking to a dark purple or light pink one for most times. I never allowed myself to ponder too much about their preferences, the twins a sighting everyone found odd at times, perhaps even intriguing as they seemed to have personalities that was liked by the masses, giving me a headache whenever I saw creatures flocking around them, vampires and werewolves alike, desperate for some attention from them.
But if having the Song twins a constant in my life until I would graduate from the Academy was bad, I really had no idea what more this family had in store for me. With the appearance of their younger brother, Wooyoung, I finally learned what absolute and utter chaos and madness meant, the boy a spawn of Satan himself, sent to destroy anything in its wake. The boy was a werewolf, yet he cackled like an old, evil, witch, his dark eyes staring into yours as if he wanted to suck your soul out. And he was cocky, way too confident in himself, perhaps a defective trait he learned from Mingi, who wasn’t lacking in the ego department either. And when I thought I was finally safe of that horrible family, two more additions of the family showed up at the Academy, two girls, their sisters. Yeri, who was three years younger than the twins and one year younger than Wooyoung, was a deceitful girl. Her angelic face had fooled everyone at first, sweet smile and soft giggles quickly making everyone fall for her charm naively. But that girl was another spawn of Satan, the biggest troublemaker dated at the Academy so far, every professor’s nightmare from the very first class she attended, successfully blowing up a frog to everyone’s horror, only giggling when brought to the Principle’s office, saying that she hadn’t seen the instructions in her book and decided to improvise. And if the family wasn’t complete already, their youngest sibling also showed up at the Academy, and she was the oddest of them all. Dahyun never really spoke until she felt the need to. Her face a constant mask of blankness, lips downturned and eyebrows furrowed. She’d hold eye contact with anyone who looked her way, and smile almost threateningly when they averted their eyes disturbed by her emotionlessness. She often whispered to herself and, to my utmost horror, I was unfortunate enough to catch her speaking to the air once I was out in the fields with a fae friend, whispering about some dead animal she had found a day ago. Three were rascals and two were possible future murderers, weren’t they a wonderful family?
My fist tightened, fingers flexing around the pencil I held in my hand, lower lip sucked in as my glare settled upon the loud Song table, blood boiling, and ears ringing from oversensitivity as I struggled blocking out their voices. Wooyoung had been cackling like a madman for over thirty minutes now, Yunho also constantly giggling as they were hunched over a book, scribbling in it furiously and snickering every time Yeri tried to see what they were doing. Mingi seemed to be the only one doing his homework, however, he would contribute to the mess by his own loud, irritating, laughter, unless he was pestering Dahyun about eating something, throwing chips at his younger sister’s face. The girl sat unmoving in her chair, staring ahead at one fixed point, her eyes slowly shifting onto Mingi every so often, almost smiling at him when Mingi was too busy furrowing his eyebrows as he probably struggled solving his homework. There was a knock against the wooden table, and my eyes finally snapped away from the distasteful scene, falling on my fae friend.
“Your homework won’t solve itself, Y/N.” Krystal, the Fae with undying beauty and velvety voice, said with a chuckle. Perhaps she was the least judgmental in our four-member friend group, always kind to others, and way too understanding.
“I can’t work when it’s so loud in here,” I said with a sigh, twirling my pencil around my fingers as I looked at my unfinished potion for Alchemy disheartened.
“Try blocking them out,” Krystal said with an encouraging smile as she patted my cold hand twice.
“Easy for you to say,” Seulgi hissed, turning back in her seat to glare at the Song family, “when you don’t have heightened hearing.”
Krystal chuckled, eyeing Irene for a second, who seemed unbothered as she sat next to Seulgi, head buried in her book, “Irene seems pretty unbothered.”
“That’s because I am.” Irene’s voice was lighter, a little on the shrill side, yet strong as she snapped. She looked up, amused for a second, before she placed her hand on Seulgi’s thigh, giving it a squeeze. I watched the action without saying much, but feeling suspicious of them lately.
“They’ve been in here for more than two hours and haven’t shut up for once, for fuck’s sake.” Seulgi gritted through teeth, the only one in our friend group who shared a hatred with me towards the Song family. Perhaps a failed relationship and broken promises lead to her current emotions towards the five people, but I wasn’t one to pry if she didn’t want to talk about it.
“You tell me,” I muttered, eyes falling back on their table, Mingi leaned over it and shoving chips forcefully in Dahyun’s mouth as she had opened it, only to bite down hard on Mingi’s thumb. Perhaps that was funny as I chuckled, trying to mask it with a huff, until the first spawn of Satan suddenly jumped up on the table, making my jaw drop.
“Ahoy, everyone get on board!” He shouted at the top of his lungs, finally everyone in the study hall looking at Wooyoung, “This ship is about to sail outside, who’s with me?!”
To my utmost disgust, there were people who cheered and suddenly approached the Song family’s table, jumping up and making sounds inadequate for such setting. They were howling, like dogs. I took in a deep breath, but couldn’t control my rage as it finally burst from all the irritation I had bottled up since the morning class I had to share with the twins, forced to sit next to Mingi by the professor, “Okay, that’s it. I need to leave.”
My friends looked at me, and Seulgi nodded as she started packing up, “Fuck, same. I’m about to bite Yunho’s throat off.”
Irene quirked an eyebrow at her friend, but said nothing, just chuckled. My hands shook as I pushed my chair back forcefully, making it screech loudly against the floor, yet the ruckus Wooyoung had created was overbearing, and nobody even heard my chair falling to the floor. I grabbed the two books I had picked in order to inspire me for my potion, and turned to head towards the bookcases. Krystal had an apologetic smile on her face as she raised one hand, “I think I will stay; I still need to finish my project.”
“That’s alright.” Irene said with a reassuring smile, her stoic expression instantly melting, “I also want to read some more. Should we head to a smaller table?”
“Sure!” Krystal grinned and both girls started packing their things as Seulgi and I made eye contact, her cheeks red.
“Do you mind if I wait for you outside?” Her voice sounded strained and I shook my head no, knowing that she was on the verge of snapping. Not that I was far off from doing the same. I picked my previously fallen chair up, and placed it back on its feet before taking off towards the very last bookcase, the returning band being placed there. Despite knowing where I took my books from, I found it only logical to place them on the return band, hence why it was put there. I bypassed a vampire staring at one of the bookshelves, almost crashing into them when they stepped backward, thankful to my quick reflexes as I avoided colliding into them. I gave them a glare as I continued walking, hurrying when the cheers of Wooyoung and those having joined him had gotten louder, making my jaw tighten as I sucked in another deep breath, ears ringing from the commotion. There were some days when I woke up overstimulated and sensitive to everyone around me. Even the softest of sighs could make my ears ring and bring forward a migraine, and today was one of those days, and the Song family made sure to worsen my symptoms with their loud antics.
I finally reached the band at the end of the bookcase, and neatly placed the two books on top of other ones, to be sorted and placed on their respective shelves later. A particular loud shriek made my body tense as it felt like a vein was close to popping in my forehead, head thumping, forcing my eyes squeezed shut. I took a second to regain my composure, gulping hard, and inhaling deeply, almost choking on the wet dog smell invading my senses. It took everything in me not to gag, and as I turned to speed walk out of this wrenched place, I crashed harshly against another hard body. They gasped loudly, books tumbling to the floor. As the smell got prominent, I jumped back upon realizing it was Mingi who had ran into me. My eyes instantly narrowed, piercing on Mingi as he looked at his feet almost defeated, five books laying scattered around him. His blonde hair with fading red at the ends was long, and in a half-up ponytail, with the front strands framing his sharp features, his thick eyebrows furrowed as he looked up at me.
“Hey, next time—”
“Watch where you go, dog.” I hissed, voice low and threatening, “I’m sick of you always stumbling into me.”
Mingi’s eyebrows raised in disbelief and he scoffed, “You crashed into me, Y/N, not me into you.”
“Right,” I snapped, rolling my eyes, “because I could have possibly seen there’s someone behind me to purposefully run into them.”
“Don’t you have heightened senses for a reason?” Mingi mocked as he crouched down to gather his books, making me look down at him, glare furious.
“All my heightened senses are good for when you’re around is to smell the wet dog stench you carry with yourself.” I scoffed, quirking an eyebrow at Mingi as he paused for a second, raising his head slowly to look at me. His expression seemed to suddenly shift, eyes narrowing as he let the books stumble to the floor again.
“Excuse me?” His deep voice dropped even lower, raspy in its undertone as his jaw clenched.
“I’m sick of you and your inept family always creating a scene wherever you are,” I snapped, leaning down slightly as Mingi’s eyes slowly seemed to darken, pupils blown wide, “Always screaming, shouting, acting like delinquents, bothering absolutely everyone around yourselves.”
Mingi stood, looming over my form with his tall body, lips pulled into a sneer, “Little miss princess wants to teach me and my inept family some etiquette, when she can’t even bring her books back to their own places?”
I gulped, scoffing as I felt my blood pumping faster, harder, when Mingi’s eyes suddenly flashed their menacing orchid color. His wolf was probably fighting to come forward, but it looked like Mingi was trying to suppress it, “This band is here for a reason, Mingi. Lord knows you and your inept family need that etiquette lesson. Perhaps it would finally give you some sense, perhaps you’d finally realize you have no place at Wilden Pine Academy and Nocturnal Parade—”
My heated words were cut off by a loud gasp as I was slammed into the bookshelves behind me in the blind of an eye, hard wood digging into my spine as a strong grip curled around my left bicep tightly, claws almost piercing my skin. Mingi’s eyes shone a bright orchid, and his fangs suddenly grew as he hissed lowly, lowering his head to the point that it was in my face, mere centimeters away from my own. My body reacted instantly, freezing in shock, starting to tremble as my heart thumped wildly in my chest. I tried to fight the flashbacks, but the stronger Mingi’s grip got, the more frozen to my spot I was. I could picture Mingi shifting into his werewolf form, easily ripping me in half, the Petrova bloodline lost without me. We could only reproduce once.
“Mingi—” I gasped when I felt claws pressing into my flesh, making my eyes widen greatly. All of my heightened senses and strength was forgotten in that moment, body trembling uncontrollably. I was frozen to my spot, shaking eyes boring into Mingi’s orchid ones, throat constricting to the point I couldn’t breathe anymore. I struggled in gathering myself, my trauma response stronger than my will to push Mingi off myself and rip him in two. I was good under pressure, I rarely panicked and I prided myself for being level-headed, until a werewolf had me in its clutches, ready to end my life. I tried to take a ragged breath, and Mingi suddenly growled, something warm trickling down my upper arm. Frozen in terror, I could see this moment would be my demise, until suddenly voices flooded my ears, sounding rapid and panicked.
“Get him off, Yunho!” Still in a haze, mind jumbled, I realized slowly that Irene was shrieking next to me, suddenly cradling my head against her chest, but my eyes were on Mingi’s, who was trembling as well, but in anger.
“Mingi!” Yunho exclaimed, grabbing his twin’s face in both hands, yanking his head to the side as Mingi and I finally broke eye contact, “Release her, right now.”
Mingi didn’t budge for another minute, and I gasped when I felt my skin painfully pierced by his claws, but then it all suddenly stopped as Mingi jumped backwards, eyes wide as he looked around frantically. His orchid eyes flicked back to their usual warm brown tone, fangs still poking through his plump lips. Without Mingi caging me against the bookshelves, I crumbled into Irene’s arms, hyperventilating as my bicep pulsed, the painful sting clouding my vision with tears.
“Go away.” Yunho’s voice was stern as I squeezed my eyes shut, thankful for Irene’s comforting embrace as she quietly shushed me, petting my head. She was smaller than me, but her body was strong and firm, holding me captive in a motherly manner against herself. I took deep breaths, taking notice of Mingi’s scent disappearing, only Yunho’s remaining, who didn’t stink as badly of wet dog like Mingi.
“I’m sorry,” Suddenly, I felt Yunho’s eyes on me, and I gently pushed Irene away, wiping at my face, “The full moon is close and it’s always hard for Mingi to control his anger around this time. I’d like to apologize on his behalf—”
“Stay away from me!” I snapped, hissing at Yunho menacingly, my eyes shining scarlet, “All of you filthy dogs!”
Abandoning my things, which were least of my worries now, I stormed away from everyone in the study hall, out through the wide doors, having a bewildered Seulgi race after me upon noticing me. My body shook as I carefully wrapped my right hand around my bicep, biting my lower lip as it started trembling, the faded old bite mark suddenly pulsating violently, memories of that repressed day resurfacing, feeling that excruciating pain all over again. I paid no mind to the blood trickling down my arm as Seulgi fussed behind me panicked, asking question after question. I ignored her and sped up, wanting to be alone for the time being. For at least until I calmed down and repressed those awful snarls, sharp fangs and thick fur flashing behind my eyes. I hated werewolves with a passion, and nothing could change my mind about them.
            Hours later, I have finally calmed down enough to leave my room and head to the canteen designed for Vampires to do my daily feed as I have skipped it this morning, having accidentally slept in. The hallways were warmly lit up, yet rather cold as the breeze wandered inside through the small cracks in the stone walls or through the opened windows. Night had fallen upon us, and everyone was finishing up their business as curfew came closer and closer. Thankfully there was no sign of the Song family through my journey to the canteen and back to my room, I don’t think I would’ve been able to even as much as look at them without wanting to rip their heads off. I had to bandage my arm after cleansing it thoroughly, since the wound was made by a werewolf it would take a day or two to fully heal, no matter how little the injury. I knew everyone heard about our little scene in the study hall as I was given inquisitive looks, only for me to ignore them as I held my head even higher, glaring at anyone who wouldn’t look away after the first poisonous look I sent their way.
Irene wasn’t in our room when I returned, but there was a small note on her bed saying that she would return late, and that I shouldn’t stay up and wait for her as she had taken our key to the room. She never explained where she disappeared to so late in the night, and I never bothered to ask, knowing well that Irene wouldn’t tell me anything, unless she was certain of whatever was going on between her and the suspected person I had in mind. That being Seulgi. Ever since her and Yunho broke up, Irene’s been breathing down her neck and it wasn’t difficult to spot the subtle changes in their friendship. The lasting stares, the subconscious touches, always looking for the other in overcrowded areas. The signs were there, but perhaps I was just reading too much into things. Seulgi needed someone who’d fully support her after the break up as she was struggling with accepting the way things ended between her and Yunho as he seemed quite unphased by it all. It was a saddening view, to see Seulgi suffer so much, mop around all day and cry even at the mention of said werewolf—it only made me hate the Song twins more. They only brought trouble and headache wherever they went, breaking hearts left and right.
I sighed as I opened the window to let some fresh air in, noticing a small letter placed on the windowsill outside. Upon noticing the emblem binding the envelope together, I quickly reached for it and delicately opened it, being presented with my mother’s fancy handwriting, just like I have expected. I sighed and leaned against the wall, eyes running over her words as the black ink seemed fresh still.
Dear Y/N,
I hope you are doing well and this letter finds you before Irene can get her hands on it, I know the last one she burned just to force me to call you. But you know I like old fashioned things, my dear, cellphones are simply not up for my taste.
To get to the point, I hope you haven’t forgotten about Parents’ Day approaching rapidly, but in case you have, here’s your reminder to start getting ready in time, daughter. If you have unpacked your luggage yourself, you must have seen the ruby red dress I have slipped inside it. I hope to see you wearing it, dear, it would bring out your pretty eyes so well. And do not forget, your makeup shouldn’t be too harsh, it gives your father a heart attack each time he sees you wearing it.
Granma and grandpa are doing well, actually, they have gone on a trip to the Maldives, said something about buying a vacation house over there so that we can stay there over the summer. Doesn’t that sound exciting? Aunt Lannie and Uncle Jaehyun would be joining us as well. It’s been quite a while since you have seen your cousins, right? How exciting!
I shall be wrapping this letter up now. I look forward to seeing you very soon, my dear, and don’t forget to be on your best behavior until then. I’d hate to get a phone call from the Principal, again, about you setting on fire one of the Song children. Mother and father loves you much!
Yours sincerely,
Petrova Yurim
I chewed on my bottom lip as I finished reading my mother’s letter, closing the window and sauntering over to my bed, dropping down on it as my grip tightened around the letter. Parents’ Day was in two days and I was far from ready for it. I have seen the dress in my luggage my mother was talking about, but I sincerely would’ve preferred not wearing it as it was a rather old dress, very out of trend as of right now. But I knew my mother’s heart would break if I didn’t wear it for her, and I closed my eyes as I fell back on my bed, wondering how I could modify it a little bit so that it would fit my style. My choice of makeup was never ‘heavy’, but my father never seemed to understand that a little eyeliner, mascara, and red lips didn’t mean the Earth was ending.
My parents have always been strict and quite demanding when it came to their preferences, rarely lenient about whatever I wanted for myself. After a while, I just learned to go with the flow and follow their teachings and words, knowing very well that once I was away from them I could do as I wished. Like setting on fire one of the Song children. To be fair, it was an accident, and it happened one year ago when we were in Alchemy class, the only class where pure chaos would ensue each time without any doubt. Yunho and Mingi had been sitting in front of me and Seulgi, loudly giggling and chatting about something completely irrelevant to our lesson, distracting me, which lead to a mild arsoning incident. I had dropped the match I had just lit up when Yunho suddenly cheered loudly, the match falling on Mingi’s chair, the long fluffy cardigan he had been wearing catching on fire. At first, I thought it would just stop burning—not one of my wisest thoughts—but it only flamed up, making Mingi yelp and Yunho shout in panic as they jumped up from their seats, frantically wrestling Mingi out of his cardigan before it could do any real damage to the werewolf. It was a rather hilarious sight, and instead of panicking and trying to help them put out the small fire, I sat cackling and high-fiving Seulgi…which, of course, caught the attention of our Professor, thus I had no choice but to admit my mistake to the Principal. I wasn’t punished for it, but Yunho would growl at me for a whole month if we were close enough to each other that his scent bothered me, and Mingi would just glare, keeping away for the most part. It had been the best month of my life; I wish it would’ve lasted for longer.
Suddenly the door of my room slamming open made me jump, alerting me to my surroundings as I had been lost in thought, unaware of an approaching Seulgi. She skipped inside with a huge grin on her face, dumping her bag on the floor and jumping on my bed, almost crushing my knee. I yelped and rolled over just in time, which apparently was an open invitation for Seulgi to cuddle me. I grumbled as her arms wrapped around my middle, her head nuzzling against my back with a giggle.
“What are you doing?” I asked with an amused huff, trying to pry her arms off me.
“I need some love,” Seulgi muttered, kicking my leg when I dug my nails into her skin, “Ow, just because we’re vampires doesn’t mean that doesn’t hurt!”
“Get off,” I laughed, rolling onto my back, forcing her to release me, “I don’t like cuddling.”
“You’re the worst.” Seulgi pouted, glaring as we turned our heads to face each other. I rolled my eyes, disregarding my letter onto my bedside table before settling back down.
“I thought you were with Irene.” I muttered, raising an eyebrow. Seulgi shook her head no and pursed her lips.
“Haven’t seen her since the study hall, she was really pissed.” Seulgi explained, turning onto her back as she stared up at the white ceiling of my shared room with Irene, “It wouldn’t come as a surprise if Mingi was found ripped in half somewhere.”
I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest, “If Mingi dies, it better be by my hands and not anyone else’s.”
Seulgi snickered, raising an eyebrow, “Would you really kill him?”
I pondered for a second, eyebrows furrowing. Was I really capable of hurting someone to the point it would cause their death? Not exactly. Did Song Mingi piss me off so much that I have envisioned myself ripping him up into tiny particles, never to be seen again? Well, yes.
“No.” I settled with my answer, sighing loudly as Seulgi hummed, silence falling over us as there was a quiet rumble in the sky, further somewhere. A storm was coming.
“This took a dark turn, anyways,” Seulgi chuckled, sitting up and grinning down at me, “did you know about the bonfire happening tomorrow night?”
“First time I hear about it.” I grinned as I looked up at Seulgi, knowing where this conversation was leading to.
“Well then,” She wiggled her eyebrows, “You better get ready to attend another legendary party! The werewolves got the Principal to drop the curfew for the seniors tomorrow night, and we’ve got the whole lake house to ourselves!”
“What?” I asked surprised, eyes widening. Well, that was something. The lake house was off limits, unless we were supervised or had swimming classes.
“Yeah, cool stuff, isn’t it?” Seulgi nudged my thigh with her elbow, “You have to admit…these wet dogs are good for something, sometimes.”
My eyebrows furrowed as I shot Seulgi a glare, the faded bite mark and fresh wound on my left bicep suddenly pulsing in pain, “Never. They are the worst and they’ll always be. They shouldn’t even exist.”
“Okay,” Seulgi drew the word out, giving me an exasperated look, “before you start ranting about why vampires are superior and why werewolves should’ve been eradicated a long time ago, I’m going to dip!”
“Leaving so soon?” I asked with a pout as I watched Seulgi get off my bed.
“Yeah, unless we’re having a sleepover, I have to reach my own room before the curfew.” Seulgi said as she grabbed her bag and adjusted her hair in the mirror.
“Irene’s bed is free for the night, she’s not sleeping here, I think.” I muttered absentmindedly.
“Oh, I know.” Seulgi winked as my eyes narrowed at her, and then she was gone, slipping through the door, and skidding down the hallway outside of my room, her light footsteps loud to my sensitive ears. Tomorrow’s party came in handy; I really needed a drink after today. I couldn’t help but fall back into my bed with a loud huff, forcing my eyes shut when my scar started pulsing harsher, the claw marks left by Mingi fresh and just a reminder of that horrific night I was forced to live through so many years ago. And if the universe was against me, howls of those wrenched creatures traveled all the way inside my room, terrifying and loud, covering my skin in goosebumps. I truly hated those awful creatures of the night.
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            My hand clenched and unclenched above the tray of food placed in front of myself as I reached for the cold-water bottle, jaw clenched as the skin of my right hand burned with each jerk of my raw skin. I have been injured, again, by Song Mingi. It all happened this morning, in Alchemy. Our professor loves switching up seatmates every few days, therefore I cannot escape the wrath of having to sit next to Song Mingi for a totality of an hour and thirty minutes. Every Alchemy class had been a nightmare when we were seated next to each other, but perhaps today’s was the worst of all as Mingi managed to burn my skin with hot, sizzling, lead. Despite being a vampire, it was the second most painful thing I’ve felt so far, and it made my blood boil as the table the Song’s were sitting at was the loudest in the vast cafeteria. These idiots were enjoying their free time, as usual, loudly while bothering everyone around themselves. My eyes fell on Mingi as he threw his head back and wheezed loudly, eyes forced shut and mouth wide open as his body trashed in his seat, hand rubbing his belly as Yunho continued spouting out non-sense at his twin, making Mingi laugh even harder.
I scoffed with a venomous look on my face, unclasping my bottle of water, and taking a long swing of it. The icy water felt refreshing against my dry throat, and after screwing it shut, I placed the bottom of the bottle on top of the healing burn, sighing at the cooling sensation. Because I wasn’t feeding as often as I was supposed to, due to personal reasons, my body wasn’t healing as fast as it should have been. My senses were all over the place today as well, and it didn’t come much of a surprise, when I woke up this morning overstimulated, again, head thumping violently and ears ringing as my neighbor’s blaring alarm from three doors down woke me up. Today felt like a total nightmare, and as suddenly Wooyoung started slamming his fists on the table, edging a guy I didn’t know on to down some sort of disgusting looking liquid, I felt myself reach my limit again. I groaned, looking away from them, wincing when Wooyoung started cackling loudly, like a witch, followed by Yeri’s very shrill shouts, the sounds too harsh and piercing my sensitive ears.
“I can’t fucking stand this.” I hissed, squeezing my eyes shut as I threw the water bottle down on the table harshly, freeing my hands in order to be able to massage my thumping forehead. My migraine was only getting worse.
“Maybe you should try eating something, Y/N.” Irene’s tone was scolding, and I just shook my head, repulsed just by the thought of eating that disgusting stew placed on the plate in my tray. That was straight up dog food, and I refused to eat it. I was craving blood now more than ever, not disgusting human food.
“I’m not eating this—glop.” I motioned towards the stew on my plate and Krystal groaned loudly, throwing me a glare.
“This glop is quite tasty, Y/N, try not to ruin other’s appetite.” She spoke up with an irritated tone, “Thank you.”
I rolled my eyes but decided to shut up, “Sorry.”
“Yeah, this isn’t for my taste either.” It seemed like only Seulgi was on my side, but perhaps that wasn’t a surprise anymore. I saw the subtle glances she stole at Yunho, and when she noticed him inhaling his stew like it was the tastiest meal he’d ever had, she made a face and pushed her tray just a little bit away from herself. But in the end, she still gave in and started eating it, albeit grimacing at each spoonful.
“Why are you eating it then?” Irene asked with a roll of her eyes, pausing to give her friend a glare. I chuckled when Seulgi shrugged, averting her eyes with a blush on her cheeks. I looked down at my hand and flexed my fingers, sighing when the burning feeling intensified. I felt defeated as I leaned back in my chair, realizing that I needed to feed this afternoon too. I couldn’t go around without healing my wounds anymore, my parents would be visiting tomorrow and they’d certainly throw a fit upon noticing the fresh wounds. And that’s something I didn’t wish for at the moment.
“What happened to your hand?” Krystal asked with a frown, having finally noticed my pain as I kept wincing and glaring at the red, raw, skin of my right hand.
“Ask Mingi, he’ll gladly tell you.” I scoffed, shooting daggers at the back of his head. Almost as if sensing my harsh stare, he paused mid-air as he was raising his spoon to his mouth, and very puppy-like looked around the canteen, searching for someone. That is until his eyes fell on me, and they widened before he whipped his head around, audibly choking on his stew as he started coughing, forcing Dahyun to tap his back with strength a little girl like her shouldn’t have.
“That was interesting.” Krystal muttered as she took a longer glance at Mingi, “Almost makes me think you cursed him or something.”
“If I were a witch,” I grinned, looking at Krystal with a malicious glint in my eyes, “I would’ve gladly done it a long time ago.”
“So, will you tell us what happened?” Irene spoke up, eyebrows raised as she reminded us of Krystal’s question.
“He burned my hand, with lead.” I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest while being careful not to touch the raw skin, “We were supposed to melt lead and mix it with chloride, professor said something about wanting to try and make aurene glass. Guess who decided to fuck up everything? That’s right, Song Mingi.”
My jaw clenched as I was taken back to that moment in the classroom, cauldrons steaming and a low murmur echoing around the dark room as everyone conversed with their seatmate, talking about the exercise we were given. Everyone except Mingi and I. We remained silent, a tense silence if I may specify, as the textbook was opened and placed in the middle of the long desk, between the two of us. It served like an unspoken barrier, yet Mingi managed to cross it every time he went to grab something, elbowing me even a few times. I tried to control myself, ears ringing as I could hear his loud heartbeat, my nose crying at the stench of wet dog mixed with fresh grass and perhaps something that oddly smelled like cinnamon. Mingi was fidgety and kept glancing at me from the corner of his eyes, licking his lips every so often. I kept on looking ahead, or at what I was doing, completely ignoring his existence. I wore a sleeveless tank top; therefore my bandages were quite obvious. The wounds have closed up already, but perhaps I wanted to be a little bit dramatic as I knew I had class with the Song twins today. I noticed the way Mingi’s body tensed when his eyes fell on my arm, and Yunho had to grab his shoulder and drag him to their table, muttering something so low into his twin’s ear, that even my sensitive hearing didn’t catch it. Not that I was curious.
After the professor assigned Mingi and I as partners, he very begrudgingly trudged over, head hanging low and pouting like a little boy forced to do something he didn’t want to. It was almost hilarious that he thought he was the only one not keen of our current predicament, but I certainly wouldn’t speak to him first about what has transpired yesterday in the study hall. I organized everything on our table as Mingi took his seat while staring at the table, avoiding eye contact when I directed my sharp gaze on his chiseled face, glaring hard at him.
“Think you can melt the lead?” My tone was snappy and cold as I raised an eyebrow at Mingi, obviously mocking him as I knew he could easily do something so easy.
“Of course, I can.” His tone was hard too as his eyes snapped up, connecting with my gaze, glaring back. I smirked as I pushed the material towards him, motioning with my chin for him to start doing so then, “I’m not your slave.”
“I’m sorry, come again?” I asked with a sweet smile despite having heard his mumbling. Mingi took a deep breath, and I watched as his sharp jaw clenched.
“Nothing, if I melt this, you mix it with the chloride, right?” He didn’t look at me as he turned on the fire underneath the steel cauldron. I hummed, pretending to think it over as my eyes ran over our textbook despite already knowing the whole process. Alchemy was always my forte, I always studied in advance for it.
“If I’ll be in the mood—”
“This is supposed to be teamwork!” Mingi snapped quietly, eyes furious as he turned to face me. His eyebrows furrowed a little and I watched as he took a deep breath, his eyes switching for a second between orchid and their deep brown. My heart stilled, the memory of his claws ripping my skin apart too fresh in my mind as my faded wound started pulsing again. I gulped and sneered at him, leaning just a little bit closer, nose burning from his horrible stench.
“Maybe if you wouldn’t have tried killing me yesterday, I would work together with a dog like you.” I hissed, Mingi’s eyes flaring orchid all of a sudden. I stiffened as we stared each other down, faces close to each other, but a few inches in between still.
“If you think calling me a dog does something to annoy me, you’re wrong, you bloodsucker.” Mingi hissed back and I chuckled, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Is that why you’re losing your cool again?” I mocked, pursing my lips in thought, “Your eyes are a dead giveaway, Mingi.”
“Perhaps you should then know by now to stop.” His voice dropped eerily low, shivers running up all over my arms, “Unless you want a repeat of yesterday.”
My heart stilled for a second and body froze up, mouth opening in shock. I only gaped at Mingi for a second, flabbergasted by the amused smirk on his lips as he stared me down, almost challengingly. But as I went to threaten him back, suddenly Yunho was behind him, large hands grabbing Mingi’s shoulders and yanking him backwards. Mingi just blinked, eyes back to brown, and looked up at his twin innocently. I couldn’t help but glare at the two, blood boiling for being rendered speechless by a dog like Mingi.
“I forgot my notebook,” Yunho’s voice was irritatingly cheery, yet I didn’t miss the warning tone in it as he squeezed Mingi’s shoulders, “can you hand it over, Mingi?”
“It’s not here.” Mingi said with a frown, looking around our shared desk, “It’s in your backpack, Yunho.”
“Oh,” Yunho chuckled, scratching the back of his head as he released Mingi’s shoulders, “my bad, I forgot. Don’t cause too much trouble.”
And with a wink, he was gone, but not without stealing a glance at me, eyes narrowing as I rolled mine, turning around to face my notebook. And after that, Mingi and I got to work, wordlessly moving around each other, making sure to never even as much as touch the other, abruptly halting when we noticed the other’s hand coming closer to our own. Time ticked away and everything was going well, until it wasn’t. Until Mingi decided to touch the tube containing the sizzling hot lead with his bare hands, spilling it all over our desk, my notebook, and my hand. I gasped loudly and couldn’t help but moan in pain as I shoot up from my seat, clutching my right wrist with my left hand as I squeezed my eyes shut in pain, hearing the professor race over as he shouted at Mingi to get the lead wipes, tissues specifically made for lead removal. The professor carefully pushed me back into my chair and took my hand into his hands, inspecting the skin closely as Mingi crashed into the table with the lead wipes in his hands. The impact sent the other tubes tumbling to the ground, but everyone ignored the sound of breaking glass as suddenly Mingi was all up in my personal space, looming over me as he clumsily handed the professor a wipe. I hissed as the professor removed the hot lead from my skin, biting my lower lip as it started burning instantly, the pain bearable, but strong.
“Thankfully the damage isn’t too bad or harsh,” The professor said as he raised my hand and inspected it from closer, “Since you’re a vampire it will heal by tomorrow, but I advise feeding and getting a lot of sleep tonight.”
Sleep, which I won’t be getting because of the bonfire party tonight, “Thank you, professor.”
He hummed before turning his stern gaze on Mingi, releasing my hands and placing them on his hips, a scolding following, “And you, young man. You’re always breaking and spilling stuff in my class, this has become unacceptable, Song Mingi. You could’ve seriously injured your classmate. I cannot accept clumsy students to my classes, I’m afraid I will have to talk to the Principal about your future in my classroom.”
“But, Professor—” However, before Mingi could even defend himself, Yunho was by his side, smiling sweetly at the professor. Of course, he would speak up for Mingi, always the knight in shining armor, acting as if Mingi didn’t have a tongue, a mouth, and a brain. But perhaps that’s why he was speaking up for Mingi, because he didn’t have all those.
“Professor, Mingi really needs this class in his curriculum.” Yunho started with a soft voice, “And the full moon is almost here, he gets stressed and unfocused around this time of the month. I can assure you that something like this won’t happen again, Professor, even if Mingi is clumsy.”
The professor sighed, rubbing his forehead, looking tired all of a sudden. And it was just the morning. I rolled my eyes when I saw the professor nod his head silently, fixing Mingi with a stern glare, “Alright, young man, get yourself together if this truly is caused by the upcoming full moon. I don’t see other wolves acting out, perhaps a counselor could help with your struggles. I will let you off this one time, but you better clear up all that broken glass!”
And just like that, Mingi was let off, and Yunho stood grinning next to his twin, both of them bowing and thanking the professor profusely. I had scoffed loudly, shaking my head as I have started putting my things away, completely ignoring the twins staring as I stormed out of the classroom, not before whirling my destroyed notebook at Mingi, who caught it with a huff as it slammed against his chest.
My eyes snapped back onto the Song table, brought back from my memory as they cheered loudly, while someone sat next to Wooyoung kept throwing grapes in his mouth, cackling at the same time. I closed my eyes with a loud groan, all three girls looking at me with amused expressions. And if this day couldn’t have gotten worse, as I opened my eyes, I was met with a stone faced Hongjoong storming past our table, throwing a piercing stare at me. I rolled my eyes and slid a little lower in my chair, the girls chuckling around me as they watched Hongjoong sit at a table with a very elegant and handsome vampire.
“He’s still butthurt?” Seulgi asked with a chuckle, watching Hongjoong behind me.
“Wouldn’t you also be?” Irene scoffed, throwing a glare at Seulgi, “Y/N literally dumped him after half a year of dating, because she found out he wasn’t rich.”
“Well, if he wouldn’t have lied to me from the very beginning,” I said with a scoff, giving them a look, “I wouldn’t have dated him for half a year, even. You know my parents would flip out if I didn’t date someone our caliber.”
“Sure, keep telling yourself that.” Krystal snorted, making me look at her questioningly, “What? You always blame your parents for the way you are, but you fail to realize it’s just you, not your parents.”
“Sure, Krystal,” I snapped, angered by the words of my supposed friend, who should’ve been on my side, “Please, do keep a lecture about how I am, and what my parents prefer if you seem to know everything so well about me!”
“Why are we fighting now?” Seulgi asked exasperated, giving me a tired look, “What is the reason for it?”
“I don’t know, but I’ve had enough.” I snapped and pushed my chair back, ears ringing as the Song table roared with laughter, the guy sitting beside Wooyoung suddenly jumping up and doing silly dances, “I have a migraine, I’m not sitting here for a second longer. See y’all at the bonfire.”
Before my friends could stop me, I grabbed my tray and walked off, forced to head towards the Song table as I had to return my untouched glop of a stew. I couldn’t help but watch Mingi as the sunlight shone inside brightly, falling on his tan skin, his blonde and red hair glinting in the light, which was in a ponytail much like yesterday. His uniform was a little array, the top of his shirt unbuttoned and tie disregarded after our Alchemy class. Of course, he was enjoying life without a care in the world, despite maiming me again, despite causing pain to me again. These bloody werewolves acted like they ruled the world and suffered no consequences when they did something wrong. I scoffed, but smirked a second later as I looked down at my still hot stew, a simple plan formulating in my mind.
It didn’t take long to reach their table, and to my ‘horror’, the front of my shoe got stuck in a ‘misplaced’ tile as it sent me tumbling forward, yelping loudly as I crashed into the back of Mingi’s chair, my tray falling from my hand and to the floor with a loud clank, Mingi’s loud cry following suit. I watched with wide eyes as Mingi jumped to his feet, sending me stumbling backwards, as my hot stew dripped down the back of his neck, his white shirt soaking through as the food trickled down his back. Everyone quieted around us, the Song table freezing as they watched Mingi yank the buttons of his shirt open, ripping the fabric off himself in a frenzy. Yunho and Dahyun were the first to spring into action, the young girl grabbing tissues as she jumped to the aid of her older brother. Yunho took the tissues and he started wiping the stew off Mingi quickly, who was whimpering quietly, as Dahyun took his larger hand in her small one, looking up at his brother with furrowed eyebrows.
“Oh, no.” I said coldly, the attention on me now, “There’s a protruding tile, I didn’t see it.”
Perhaps the insincerity and mockery in my tone sent Yunho over the edge as his expression suddenly switched up, his eyes glazing over in anger, face scrunching as his fangs suddenly poked through his lips. His eyes didn’t switch colors like Mingi’s would’ve already, but Yunho looked terrifying to the onlookers, not to me. I’ve seen Yunho angry before, and it didn’t faze me because I knew he was all bark and no bite. The giant couldn’t hurt a fly, even.
“Which tile?!” Yunho’s voice was shaking, “Show me! Right now!”
“Yunho.” Mingi whispered, grabbing his brother’s bicep.
“No, Mingi, no!” Yunho snapped, furious eyes settling on his brother, warning him to stay quiet, “I’ve had enough of her always bullying us! I’ve had enough of you, Y/N, always making Mingi suffer. What’s your fucking problem, huh?!”
“You,” I snarled, fangs growing out as I lost composure, “and your pathetic family are my fucking problem, Yunho. You act like animals and parade around thinking there’s no consequence to your actions?! He burned my fucking hand, Yunho! He pierced my skin with his claws, Yunho! What’s next, huh? He bites me and kills me?! Do you not see Mingi isn’t fit to be here? Your whole family shouldn’t be here, Yunho!”
“Until when do you think your werewolf hating agenda can go on, Y/N?” Yunho’s ears and neck have gotten red, eyes shaking as they flickered orchid for a second, but were quickly back to their light brown color. I could hear Yunho’s heart hammer against his chest, Mingi’s heartbeat fast as well, but not out of anger like Yunho’s, instead out of fear. His grip tightened around Yunho’s bicep, and I chuckled as a smirk slipped onto my lips.
“Until the day the Earth ends?” I raised an eyebrow, “Don’t forget your place, Werewolf. You are nobody and nothing, I am a Petrova. My family paved the way for everything you are able to experience comfortably today. So think again before you try to threaten me, Song Yunho.”
“Your family would be ashamed of you, Y/N.” Perhaps that jab shouldn’t have hurt as much as I did, it visibly made me recoil as my eyebrows furrowed, bitterness raising in my throat. No, they wouldn’t be. Just because I hated this family didn’t mean my own would be ashamed of me.
“You’re wrong.” I found myself saying back, voice not as strong as it was, “Stay away from me, all of you!”
And before anyone could say anything, I stormed out of the canteen, ignoring the loud whispers that followed even when I was far away, mind a jumbled mess of thoughts. I tried to forget Yunho’s words, but they were messing with my head. Maybe if his own kind wouldn’t act like such wild animals, I wouldn’t hate them. Maybe if his own feral kind wouldn’t have tried to kill me when I was a child, I wouldn’t hate them so much.
            Somewhere along the day I managed to put past myself everything that’s happened in the morning and at noon in the canteen, and after having fed, I was pleased to see the burn on my hand heal by itself by the time the girls and I headed out to the bonfire party. Despite it being a spring evening, the air was chilly and the breeze cool, therefore I opted to wear a light patterned jacket over my black off-shoulder fluffy blouse, ripped black jeans hugging my legs and keeping them warm. Not that I was too cold, a vampire’s body reacted differently to the temperatures compared to the human ones. The party had been in full swing by the time the girls and I have arrived, having had to walk through a short passage of the woods, feeling quite disturbed by the louds howls of the werewolves. The girls only laughed and made comments about them being too excited for such a simple party, but all I could think about was one of them jumping out and ripping us to shreds. I kept closer to Irene, who never questioned it when I snuggled up against her side or held onto her arm tightly, even went as far as to offer me a huge smile and rub my arm up and down reassuringly. Nobody really knew about how I acquired the bite mark on my left bicep, forever marked, but it wasn’t hard to put two and two together. A vampire’s bite looked a lot different, and if a vampire bit another vampire, it faded away in less than three hours. However, if a werewolf bit a vampire, if the vampire was fortunate enough to survive the attack then the wound would scar and fade into a light, but very visible, bite marks.
But I tried to put past myself such grey thoughts tonight, and instead, welcomed the lively atmosphere as we were presented with the gravel path that lead down towards the lake house, the big bonfire a few good meters away from it, in the small meadow surrounding the lake. Vampires and Werewolves alike were gathered around, forming smaller or larger groups, and I was quickly pulled in the direction of the crackling fire as Irene excitedly pointed towards the roasted marshmallows others were having. I chuckled as I released her thin arm and accepted the red solo cup Seulgi pushed into my hands, not bothering to ask what was in it, knowing that it was most likely some unbranded hard liquor which would get us drunk fast, and hit hard, leaving us hungover tomorrow. Which probably wasn’t too smart as our parents would be visiting, but I couldn’t find it in myself to care as my body and mind screamed for a little release as these past few days have been quite stressful. I downed the contents of the red cup in one go, and perhaps that was a mistake as it burned my esophagus, making me cough loudly as Irene happily roasted her marshmallow, giggling about something with Krystal, who was crouched down next to her. Seulgi leaned against my side, resting her arm on my shoulder, and laughed as she watched me wheeze for air, clutching at my own throat desperately.
“Girl, nobody told you to down it in one go.” Seulgi seemed amused by my suffering, and I could only glare at her. That is, until I felt a foreign arm wrap around my shoulders, scent extremely new, but not too bothersome as I inhaled sharply.
“Here, wash it down with beer.” It was a senior vampire I have seen around, his eyes sharp and glinting with mischief. I narrowed my eyes at him before looking at the canned beer, and reluctantly accepted it when he pushed it in my hand, “Don’t worry, it’s unopened. Saw you downing your drink and knew you’d regret it instantly, the name’s Joshua, by the way.”
I opened the beer and took a big gulp of it, welcoming the cool drink as it poured down my throat, finally washing away the awful burn of the previous alcohol, “Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N.”
“Right,” Joshua chuckled, releasing me as he stepped back, “Hard to miss a Petrova.”
And with a wink he was gone, making me smirk as he threw a lasting stare back at me. Seulgi chuckled; her eyebrows raised when I looked at her.
“What was that?” She mocked, using a manly voice, trying to imitate Joshua despite his soft-spoken, melodic voice.
“Don’t know, but he’s cute.” I mused with a shrug and took another big gulp of my beer, humming as I could feel my body jittery already. Alcohol affected us, night creatures, harder, but judging my current mental state, I would get drunk a lot faster tonight than I would do so usually.
“Maybe he’s got his eyes on you?” Seulgi smirked, eyes sweeping over the place, searching for Joshua.
“If he’s rich, I don’t mind.” I said with a chuckle and Seulgi just shook her head, detaching herself as Irene and Krystal finally joined us again, instead going up to Irene to ruffle her perfect dark brown hair. Irene whined and pushed at Seulgi’s hand, pouting as she rearranged her curls, exchanging places with Krystal so that Seulgi wouldn’t bother her again.
“Where’d you get those drinks from?” She asked, pointing at Seulgi’s.
“From the open bar.” Seulgi said while pointing with her head towards a long table only a few feet away from us, littered with all sorts of alcohol, four people behind the table handing everyone a red cup as they walked up to them. Two vampires and two werewolves, I could only hope Seulgi accepted our drinks from the vampires.
“Let’s grab some!” Krystal said excitedly, and I nodded, downing my beer and throwing the crumpled can to the ground as I followed after them.
“Wait for me, I need a refill!”
“Already?” Irene asked with wide eyes and I grinned as I nodded, holding my empty red cup up.
“I’m getting wasted tonight.” I chuckled as the girls gave me weary looks, but commented nothing on it.
And wasted I got not even two hours into the party. The world was a little fuzzy and hazy around me, but I maneuvered myself around the crowd quite skillfully, I was one hundred percent sure that someone from the outside wouldn’t have been able to tell that I was, well, drunk. Maybe the way my laughter got louder and more frequent would’ve been a tell-tale sign that, perhaps, I should take it easy on the alcohol from now on, but nobody paid enough attention to me to actually stop me from doing so. Irene and Seulgi were perhaps even drunker than I was, falling over each other and giggling at everything as they whispered in each other’s ears, completely forgetting that with our sensitive hearing we could still hear them if we listened closely. But I was too in my own head to be curious of their conversation, and instead found myself in a heated debate with Krystal and a druid friend of hers about which herbs were actually healing, and which were known to have healing proprieties but weren’t actually used to heal, but to poison instead. Of course, I thought I was quite right at the beginning about some black roots I have found two weeks ago in the forest, but turns out it only gives you diarrhea if you drink it two days in a row. Which was excellent, and perhaps a piece of information I shouldn’t bear as my mind instantly went to Mingi, making me cackle to myself. Krystal said nothing despite me probably looking like a mad woman, and instead came to my aid when she noticed me trying to stand up from the log we had been lounging on for the past one hour.
“I’m getting a drink,” I mumbled, rubbing my eyes for a second as the world swirled with me upon standing up, “and then I’m going to dance, want to come?”
Krystal hummed, looking around the bonfire, eyes pausing on somebody I couldn’t see due to my alcohol infused brain, “Perhaps later, would you mind that?”
“Of course not!” I exclaimed with a grin and petted her head, albeit a little too aggressively, before turning my head to look for Irene and Seulgi…but they weren’t where we had left them not even fifteen minutes ago. My eyes narrowed as I searched the place, closing my eyes to tune into their voices, listening closely, but failing as there were too many voices surrounding me. On a normal day, finding them even a crowd as big and loud as this one would’ve been child’s splay, but with my fogged-up brain, it turned out to be mission impossible right now. And closing my eyes made me feel nauseous, so I quickly opened them and with a drunken wave directed at Krystal, I took off towards the open bar. I was quite skilled at walking in a straight line without bumping into anyone despite my current state, and could only grin at the people behind the table once I arrived there. I failed to notice the werewolf dude leaning over the table, asking what I wanted. I held up one finger before pointing at the beer, and he handed it to me quickly with a smile, making me chuckle as I opened it and took a big gulp of it. He chuckled and cheered for me, making me wink at him before I turned and took off, headed towards the lake house. I had been in the mood to dance for hours now, but the girls kept me busy with stories, and I continuously kept bumping into people I knew, forced to converse with each one. But now, finally the time to join the dance floor came, and I felt giddy as I sped up, not noticing that I was using my vampire speed, the world blurring even more in front of my eyes, that is until my body slammed into another one, halting me back with a loud gasp as the beer was slapped out of my hand.
“What the fuck?!” I called out loudly, pushing my arm out in front of me as my arm dripped with disgusting beer. The music was louder as I was almost near the lake house.
“Sorry, I wasn’t—oh.” My eyes snapped up at the sudden attitude in the tone of the person who had run into me, only needing a few seconds for the wet dog stench to register, the blonde hair of the deceitful girl standing in front of me way too familiar.
“You.” I snarled, eyes darkening as my fangs appeared, out of control  due to the alcohol in my system at this point as I glared down at the shorter girl in front of myself. Yeri’s eyes were just as dark as mine, her hands balled into fists as her cheeks were flushed red, “What the fuck are you doing here, little dog? This party is for seniors, and you’re not even a junior.”
“Fuck off, bitch!” Yeri snapped, growling at me, sending me into a giggling fit as I stared the younger girl down, raising an eyebrow.
“Did one of your disgusting brother’s snuggle you inside?” I tilted my head to the side, pouting my lips in mockery, “Or did you slip in by yourself? How about I show you where wet dog’s like you belong?”
“Don’t touch me!” Yeri yelped when my hand shoot out, wrapping around her bicep painfully, my eyes flashing scarlet red.
“I keep telling your brother the same thing, yet he never listening, little Yeri.” I sighed loudly, making fake crying sounds in my drunken stupor, “How about I teach him a lesson through you?”
I flashed my fangs as I stepped all up in Yeri’s personal space, her eyes widening in fright as she started yanking on her arm, her heartbeat fast in panic.
“If you struggle, it’ll only hurt more.” I whispered menacingly as I started leaning closer to her neck, grabbing her other arm with my free hand, stilling her movements with my inhumane strength. The girl whimpered loudly and I watched as her lips trembled in fright, shaking her head furiously no. I grinned sadistically at her, chuckling when I got close enough to her neck, hearing her quiet sniffs as she had started crying, “How pathetic.”
I loosened my grip on her and she instantly pushed me away to the point I staggered backwards, almost loosing my footing as the world swirled with me, “You fucking psychotic bitch!”
Yeri cried at the top of her lungs, a few night creatures glancing our way, but they continued walking on when they saw that nothing bad was actually happening, “Oh, little puppy got scared? How sad!”
“I will rip you to fucking shreds when I have my first shifting!” Yeri screamed, voice shrill and breathing heavily as I threw my head back in laughter, gulping down the sudden wave of nausea which hit me.
“Stupid dog, in your place I’d be more worried about growing a beard!” I stuck my tongue out at Yeri in child-like mockery, and watched as her eyes widened to the point of popping, choking back a scream. I just laughed as she threw me one last furious glare before turning around and storming off, her mumbling quite loud as I laughed hearing her curse me to the heavens and back.
“Great, now my beer is gone.” I grumbled to myself once Yeri was out of sight and not entertaining me anymore, making me sigh as I remembered my mission before I was interrupted by the stupid girl. I turned around and grinned as I spotted the door to the lake house open, and once again using my vampire speed, I waltzed inside quite clumsily, knocking into the doorframe and groaning as I stumbled towards. Somebody caught me but I quickly shook their hands off, and pushed my way through the crowd, settling somewhere towards the middle of it, closing my eyes and getting lost to the even beat of the EDM music playing.
I smiled as I threw my arms up, jumping to the beat, until I felt someone tapping my shoulder, making me turn around. It was a girl I knew from one of my classes and she looked quite excited as she waved, making me chuckle as I waved back. She was quite the cute fae and extremely friendly, so I didn’t object as she pushed a red cup into my hands, prompting me to drink from it. Perhaps it was the tastiest cocktail I drank all night long, and I thanked her with a big grin when she said I could keep it. I closed my eyes and swayed my hips to the rhythm of the music, enjoying myself with the small fae girl as she twirled around cutely, making me laugh at some of her movements as I found them hilarious, but endearing. The DJ suddenly changed the song and everyone screamed, making me excited as it was one of my favorite song’s, the fae girl’s eyes also widening as she grabbed my arm and started jumping up and down in excitement. Soon, I found myself taking large gulps of the sweet cocktail as I jumped up and down with the fae, screaming the lyrics at the top of our lungs as we were just two drunken bodies enjoying ourselves in the crowd of the night creatures. That is, however, until I felt a harsh grip on my right bicep, forcefully yanking me backwards and away from my fae friend. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and I pouted when the fae girl suddenly stepped back, eyes wide and set behind me before she got lost in the crowd, my body whirled around so fast that everything went hazy around me, and I was forced to shut my eyes for a few moments, stomach doing weird flips. It also didn’t help that suddenly it smelled like wet dogs.
“Listen here, bloodsucker,” A deep and raspy male voice hissed, my eyes snapping open as I found myself face to face with Mingi, “you can insult me and threaten me all day long, if you want, but if you touch my sister one more time, Y/N, I will rip you apart!”
I stared into Mingi’s handsome face for a second, and then the next I was laughing, head falling back as my body shook with the motion, hardly able to control myself in my inebriated state. But my fun didn’t last for long as I felt the red cup slapped out of my hand, making my blood boil as I glared at Mingi.
“This is the second time one of you, Song wet dog’s, slap my drink out of my hand, Mingi,” I hissed, unimpressed at this point, “It’s getting tiring and annoying.”
“I don’t give a shit about your drinks, Y/N,” Mingi growled, stepping closer, “What I do care about is you having a problem with my sister and—”
“Blah-blah-blah, Mingi.” I scoffed, pulling on my arm, but Mingi’s grip only tightened, “Quit yapping, I don’t give a shit. You’re irrelevant, irritating, and you fucking stink.”
“Listen to me, you fucking entitled bitch!” Mingi’s raw voice boomed over the music as he grabbed me by both arms, shaking my body harshly as his breathing got heavier, heart thumping wildly in his chest. I chuckled and bit my lower lip, surprised by this new side of Mingi. His breath was mingled with alcohol, no wonder he was acting so wild all of a sudden, not that he usually wasn’t. It was just…more raw tonight, seemed more sincere than before, “I want you to leave my family alone. We’ve had enough of your torment and constant taunts, what the fuck did we do to you?!”
I groaned and threw my head back to stare at the dark ceiling of the lake house, “You’re just too dense, Mingi, aren’t you? Do you seriously want me to go on a rant and repeat every single thing I’ve told you these past two days? You have no place at Wilden Pine Academy, let alone in Nocturnal Parade.”
“I’m done with this conversation,” Mingi hissed through his teeth, making me smirk as he stepped back, letting go of my arms finally.
“Are you?” I mocked as I cocked an eyebrow at him, blinking at him sweetly, “I thought you were here to put me in my place for touching your precious little sister. She’s quite dumb, by the way, but I suppose it runs in the family.”
Mingi didn’t say anything, but it wasn’t hard to miss the way his jaw clenched, ebbing me on more to continue taunting him. I felt confident as I allowed my eyes to run over his body, taking in his tall and lanky form. The dark grey jeans hung loosely around his lower half, a little low on his hips, held in place by the thick belt he wore, making him look like a cowboy, almost. There were quite big rips in his jeans, the lower half of his thighs uncovered just to below his knees, a quite delicious sight for hungry eyes. I slowly dragged my eyes up, and perhaps, they lingered a tad bit too long on his narrow waist, the black muscle shirt tucked inside his jeans clinging deliciously tight against his lean muscles, which were not too harsh, but quite obvious now that he was out of his loose Academy uniform. I knew werewolves were night creatures with higher body temperature, but it was still a bit surprising that he didn’t wear a jacket, his neck decorated with various silver chains, similar much to the collars dogs would wear. I giggled at my own thoughts as I finally looked back into Mingi’s eyes, forgetting for a second where I was going with this, or what I initially had in mind as I felt my own heartrate pick up, almost matching Mingi’s. I failed to notice his fluffy hair was out of his day-to-day manbun, lusciously falling around his face, framing his sharp eyes which looked even sharper with the harsh black eyeliner rimming them.
“Nice necklaces, Mingi,” I complimented, twirling my finger around a chain until Mingi slapped it away with a hiss, “reminds me of dogs and their collars their owners make them wear. Do you also have an owner?”
Mingi’s cheeks flared in an instant, and I wasn’t surprise to see his eyes flash orchid, flickering back to their warm brown color the next second. I tilted my head and licked my lips as I stepped just a bit closer, suddenly meowing at him in a mocking way, “Do big, bad, dogs like you like little kitties too?”
It really happened in a flash, perhaps in a sober state I would’ve been impressed by how fast he moved even for a werewolf, but all of my senses were dull at the moment as my world was hazy, and all I could do was remain frozen in surprise as Mingi’s large hand took ahold of my neck and tightly wrapped around it, his silver rings digging into my skin. His puffs of breath hit my face as he was breathing hard, and I could hear the blood race through his veins, flush to his head deliciously as his heart thumped wildly, the strange cinnamon scent I have smelled before on him very prominent all of a sudden. My blood ran cold as Mingi’s eyes flashed orchid again, fingers squeezing my throat just a bit more, but now it hurt. However, I felt my heart race pick up as butterflies flew freely in my stomach, making me giggle breathlessly. The alcohol could really make you a fool if it wanted to, if you allowed it to.
“Will you snap my neck in half?” I whispered against Mingi’s lips, almost touching, knowing well that he could hear me crystal clear. Mingi sucked in a harsh breath of air, shaking his head, body trembling. I smirked, very aware of the conflicting emotions on Mingi’s face, and of the growing and shrinking claws against the soft skin of my neck. He really could’ve snapped my neck in half right then and there if he wanted to, and I would’ve been too drunk to realize it in time and defend myself. Making it even worse, I was the one asking for it, edging him on, laughing danger in its face, forgetting why I hate werewolves so much. Forgetting that I almost lost my life because of one of them.
Perhaps the planets stilled and galaxies aligned as one, and not even that could’ve prepared me for Mingi’s next actions, or the crippling shock I felt in my body, as Mingi pulled my body into his, ferociously chasing after my red lips as his plump ones found mine, inhaling them as he sucked on my lower lip, my body too numb on the inside to show on the outside the shock I was feeling. His teeth clamped down on my bottom lip painfully so, making me gasp as I yanked my head back, very aware of Mingi’s huge palm kneading the flesh of my ass through my jeans, forcing a hysteric laugh out of my body as I threw an arm around his shoulders, feeling weak all of a sudden, and needing something to anchor myself in. My laughter was high-pitched and extremely loud, but it didn’t deter Mingi from me as I felt his left hand grab my nape and yank my head back up, our eyes boring into each other.
“What the fuck, Mingi.” I found myself chuckling, fingers tangling into his soft hair, grip firm and painful as Mingi grimaced slightly.
“Fuck you, Y/N.” Mingi’s growl was animalistic as he crashed our lips together again, the dancing bodies around us forcing us closer together, flushed to the point where I didn’t know where Mingi ended and where I began. His lips set a feracious pace, slotting perfectly against mine, inhaling my breath like I was his only oxygen supply. I didn’t realize it in that moment, but I clung onto him as if my life depended on it, as if he was my life source and I desperately needed him. I sucked and bit at his lips, unashamedly moaning when his hand grabbed onto my ass firmly, rocking our lower bodies in sync to the rhythm of the song while he inhaled my lips, thumb pressing into my cheek painfully as he had grabbed my jaw, keeping me in place, refusing to allow me to pull my head back again. I sucked on his plump lower lip, hearing a small whimper slip through his lips as they parted, granting me the access inside his mouth as I pushed my tongue through his parted lips, forcing his mouth open wider. Mingi groaned deep in his throat, fingers slotting back into my hair and yanking harshly on it, making me gasp as he refused to let me dominate the kiss as his tongue lapped at mine, forcefully entering my own mouth, tilting my head in a way that would grant him even more access to reach deeper. My only body felt alive the longer Mingi’s mouth pressed against mine, no matter the pain as I fisted his muscle shirt, struggling to keep my moans at bay as Mingi’s hand slipped inside the back pocket of my jeans, cupping my ass and guiding my body against his as they grinded together to the music. His tongue was hot as it explored my mouth, licking at every corner, making my breath still as he licked at my fangs almost mockingly, almost as if he tried to draw his own blood, making my head thump with wild lust I’ve never felt before. I didn’t think much, clearly, as I felt with my right hand down his broad shoulders, firm chest, and abdomen, slipping between our bodies without Mingi noticing. My lungs screamed for air, but I refused to pull back first, grabbing at Mingi’s hard-on through his jeans, eliciting a choked back moan. Putting pressure on his dick with the heel of my hand, I started massaging him, Mingi’s breath hitching as he flushed our bodies together even more if that was possible, no longer paying any attention to the music or keeping up with the dancing bodies in the crowd around us. The longer I kept on rubbing his dick slowly but firmly, the sloppier Mingi’s kisses got, gasps and groans slipping past his occupied mouth. I smirked against his slick lips, and felt triumphant when he was the first one to pull back, gasping against my mouth as a string of saliva connected our mouths together still, Mingi’s eyebrows scrunched up in pleasure as I raised my hand enough to slip it inside his jeans, the belt not making it much too difficult to do so. My eyes widened when I realized Mingi wore no underwear, and my throat became drier instantly at the thought of how easy he made everything as my fingers slowly wrapped around his bare member.
“Fuck, not here.” Mingi’s deep voice was raspy and raw as he grabbed my wrist, biting his swollen lower lip.
I chuckled, licking at his red lips, enticed by the flush of his cheeks as I tightened my grip around his shaft, making him gasp in pleasure, “So the big, bad, dog does like playing with kitties, after all.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Mingi hissed, eyes narrowing into slits as he glared at me, yanking my hand out of his jeans, his long and sharp nose pressing against mine, “You won’t be calling me no dog after tonight.”
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            Something lay heavily on my chest, hot air tickling the sore skin of my neck. Not much needed to be said as I groaned lowly, all of my muscles feeling heavy and sore, head thumping violently due to the ticking of a clock, which seemed to only become louder and louder, too piercing to my sensitive ears in the quiet of my room. My mouth felt dry and my throat almost felt like burning up, the feeling quite similar to bloodthirst, which wouldn’t make much sense as I have fed yesterday. I wasn’t thirsty, yet my body felt alive, almost alert, as I sighed softly, trying to stretch out my muscles, but unable to move, almost as if I was pinned down by something. I licked my lips and rubbed at my eyes, suddenly registering the foreign scents mingling together around me. The scent of cinnamon was nauseatingly overbearing, making my stomach flip when it mixed with fresh grass, somehow clashing with a completely different scent that reminded me a lot of those stupid wet dogs. Werewolves, only they smelled like that.
My eyes flew open, heartbeat kicking off in a frenzy as my dry eyes burned, having to blink them multiple times until the ache went away, telling myself that this must be just a bad dream as the room I found myself in looked nothing like the dorm room I share with Irene. It was scaringly the opposite of it, quite messy and littered with boyish things, a family picture framed, and placed on the wall opposite the bed I lay in, almost making me scream at the top of my lungs as my eyes swept over the Song family. I jumped when a soft breath tickled the skin of my neck again, and my jaw dropped as I finally took the bother to look down at myself, muscles locking up, and a scream choked back in the back of my throat as I lay frozen with an asleep Song Mingi on top of me, naked. Both of us were naked, and I felt myself starting to panic as I licked my chapped lips, pressing my head back harshly into the pillow, racking my brain for any memories of last night, coming up almost empty handed after my fifth red cup, everything a haze as I desperately tried to find the reason why I was in Mingi’s room, laying naked in bed, and why we have even slept in the same bed…naked.
And the blurry pieces of my recollection that I managed to find were horrifying as obscene memories flooded my mind, heart fluttering and cheeks flaming as Mingi’s breathless moans all of a sudden felt too loud in my ears, his strong body looming over mine as he kissed down my neck, gasping for air when my hand tightened just a little bit harder around his dick, hand moving up and down fast. It made Mingi whimper as he whispered in my ear that he was close to coming, sucking and biting on the soft flesh of my neck, making me moan as his hand cupped my breast, kneading it and squeezing it, body yearning to feel more of him.
But the memory became hazy again, and as I gripped my hair in frustration, I was shocked to find myself just barely remembering Mingi’s face scrunched in pure bliss, head thrown back as his calloused hands gripped my hips to the point of bruising, his hips pistoning upwards as my thighs trembled with my body leaned over him and hands holding onto the headboard as I rode him, our loud moans tangling together in wanton noises, no doubt disturbing Mingi’s neighbors. I could remember my heart beating out of my chest as my orgasm was quickly approaching, hip movements picking up as I started moving up and down faster, calling out Mingi’s name when his thumb found my clit, his eyes suddenly flashing orchid as he growled, letting me fuck myself on him as he looked up at me with the hungriest look in his eyes.
My breath stuttered in my throat as I tried to push the memory away, appalled by the way my body felt hot all over suddenly, Mingi’s naked weight pressing down on me not helping my situation at all as another stray fogged-up memory lurked at the back of my mind, fighting to push through, despite my attempts to keep it at bay. But it was a lost cause as I licked my lips, remembering the feel of Mingi’s lean body above mine and pressing into me, slick with sweat as Mingi’s mouth was parted, puffs of breath leaving his lips with each sharp thrust of his hips, hiking my body a little higher after each one due to the sheer force he was using, my toes curling and fingers gripping the sheets overhead. Mingi had one of my leg’s pushed flushed to my chest as he used it as leverage to turn his pace brutal, my other leg wrapped around his waist, digging into his backside, as I urged him on to move rougher as his thick member pulsed inside my tight walls, tears springing into my eyes when my third orgasm was fast approaching, my body too sensitive to take any more, but Mingi wasn’t stopping. He clamped his free hand down on my mouth as I was borderline screaming, body completely numb at this point as Mingi desperately chased after his own release, growls escaping through his parted lips as his orchid-colored eyes bore into my scarlet ones. Never have I ever felt such intense pleasure before, and I almost had to slap myself to push the memory away, skin tingling as Mingi suddenly shifted on top of me, lips brushing against my collarbones. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts and trying to remain level-headed, but the more the realization that I have slept with Mingi dawned on me, the more hysterical I started feeling. My body trembled in anger, and confusion over how much I liked it and how much my body was yearning for it again.
I did the next best thing I could, raised my hand and whacked Mingi in the back of his head hard, making him jump up with a loud growl and eyes orchid. He looked around the room frantically as his lower half pressed into mine, making my heartbeat quicken. It took Mingi almost the same amount of time as for me to realize just what happened, and as he whipped his head around, eyes back to their usual brown, his mouth fell open, and a very shrill scream left his lungs, making me close my eyes in pain as my ears rung.
“What the fuck!” Mingi continued to scream, horrified eyes looking at me, then at himself, continuing to do so for a few minutes until I realized he was basically looking at my naked breasts, making me smack him in the face, but not in a painful way, “What the fuck?!”
“Shut up!” I screamed back at Mingi as my head thumped violently, his screaming only adding onto my migraine and hangover.
“What are you doing in my bed naked?!” Mingi still seemed too shocked to move, and I pushed his head away so that he wouldn’t look at me anymore. I went to wriggle out from underneath him, but that only made matters worse as I rubbed up against his morning wood, making me gasp as my body instantly reacted, wanting nothing more than to spread my legs wide open for Mingi, a thought so terrifying that I froze. I didn’t miss Mingi’s sharp inhale and his reddening cheeks.
“What do you think, you fucking idiot?!” I managed to fire back, Mingi suddenly realizing just how naked we were as he rolled over, finally his body off mine. I finally felt like I could breathe as I rolled to my side as well, shielding my private parts from him as the sheet on us wasn’t big enough to cover the both of us anymore.
“Oh, my God,” Mingi sounded mortified and I felt the bed dip behind myself, “Where’s Yunho? Did he not come back here?”
“I fucking hope not!” I snapped as I sharply turned around, pushing Mingi hard, kicking him off his bed as he yelped loudly, hitting the carpeted floor with a heavy thud.
“What the fuck!” He called out, reaching a hand up and ripping the sheet covering me off, to shield himself. I yelped and scattered off the bed as well, wildly looking for my clothes, thankfully finding them disregarded by the bed as I used my inhumane speed to dress myself before Mingi could see me.
“Did we—why were you naked in my bed?!” Mingi stood, sheet wrapped around himself like a burrito, only his head visible as his face looked pale. He better was just as hungover as I as I struggled to button my jeans due to it, blood boiling at his stupid question.
“What do you think, you stupid boy?!” I hissed, scarlet eyes snapping onto him menacingly, “Surely not because we read the Holy Book Of The Clergy!”
“Don’t bring up the Clergy right now, oh, my God!” Mingi looked mortified as he looked around, eyes pausing on his family photo, face blenching even more, “We had sex.”
“You don’t say!” I snapped accusingly, eyes falling on the clock, mortified when I realized I barely had an hour to get ready until the gates of the Academy would open for all parents to be welcomed. I went to throw the door open just as Mingi marched up to me, grabbing me by my arm, face hard, and eyes set in a glare.
“Get out.” He snapped, grabbing the doorknob, the sheet wrapped around his body almost falling to the floor. I scoffed and yanked my arm out of his, glaring back just as viciously.
“You hypocrite,” I pushed him back, sneering at him, “you act like I’m the one who put my dick inside of you.”
“I don’t doubt you wouldn’t have, if you had one!” I huffed as I was appalled, my eyes turning scarlet once again as Mingi scoffed at me
“I’m pretty sure you started this on the dancefloor, Mingi—”
“Don’t say my name!” Mingi cringed, turning around and pulling the sheet over his head as he started wailing silently. I rolled my eyes at his theatrics and went to leave the room, never wanting to see his stupid face again, until I remembered just how big of a louse mouth Mingi actually was, and it made my heart thump wildly in fear that he’d go around blabbering about what we had done. So, I turned sharply, and using my vampire speed, appeared in front of Mingi, clutching his throat tightly, only to be faced with no face and only a white sheet. I closed my eyes in exasperation as Mingi gasped and started wailing that he couldn’t breathe, so, I ripped the sheet off his head, glaring at him, almost amused by the way his blonde and red hair stuck up in all directions.
“If you say anything to anyone, Song Mingi, I swear to you right now, that I will suck your blood dry and eradicate your whole family afterwards.” Mingi’s nose scrunched in disgust as I leered the words at him, my fangs menacing, and scarlet eyes terrifying. When Mingi didn’t say anything, I tightened my fingers around his neck, making him roll his eyes at me.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Y/N, I wouldn’t want a soul to know about this.” I narrowed my eyes at him, but upon being convinced based on his heartbeat and stoic face that he was saying the truth, I released him and left his room in a hurry once making sure that nobody would see me. Was it really necessary that my days would turn into nightmares each day lately?
            The image I was presented with when I looked in the mirror in my own room was nightmarish, mouth falling open when I saw the dark bruises creating a whole constellation on my neck. I needed a few minutes to calm myself as I took in deep breaths, otherwise Mingi would be laying now in a puddle of his own blood. The sight of myself was disappointing, and I couldn’t help but feel angry with myself for letting this happen. If we weren’t so drunk this would’ve never happened. I can’t believe I let a werewolf touch me…let alone in such inappropriate ways. My mind kept trying to wander off to memories of last night with Mingi, but I forced myself to focus and forget everything that happened, marking it as a stupid drunken mistake that would never again happen. Despite having barely an hour to get ready, I was done in record time. I was fresh and clean after the deep cleanse shower I took, all bruises and miscolored spots instantly covered up afterwards. I curled my hair nicely and applied very light makeup, adding a little color to my pale cheeks and lips, wearing the dress my mother sent. Irene thankfully helped me change it a bit, and now it was up to my taste as I wore my black high heels to match the color of my nails, and left the dorms, not wanting to be late when my parents would arrive. I would certainly get chastised for it, and my still thumping head wouldn’t have been able to take that as well. I was finally regretting the fact that I mixed so many drinks last night and that there wasn’t anyone to stop me from wrecking myself. Surviving today would prove to be almost an impossible mission.
By the time I made it to the gardens, it was buzzing to the brim with students, the younger ones all excited to see their parents, the older ones not as quite happily waiting for them. I easily found Irene in the crowd as I smelled her sweet perfume, and came to stand next to her, arms crossed over my chest as I grimaced when the fifth graders kept cheering and screaming in our vicinity. I didn’t want to ruin the moods of those poor children, but if they didn’t shut up soon, my head would surely explode.
“Oh, Y/N,” Irene said as she finally noticed me, her eyebrows furrowing as she took me in, snapping me out of glaring at a blonde little girl, “When did you arrive? I didn’t notice you.”
I sighed and looked at her tiredly, my muscles quite sore after…the night I had, “Just now, this is dreadful.”
Irene chuckled as she followed my sight, which was back on the loud kids, “Well, yes, you shouldn’t have had so much to drink last night…”
I rolled my eyes, looking back at my friend, “Look who’s talking. I thought friends are supposed to stop you from doing stupid shit? Oh, well, you couldn’t possibly have done so since you disappeared with Seulgi, again.”
Irene blushed and looked away abashed, clearing her throat awkwardly, “Sorry about that, won’t happen again, I promise.”
“Yeah, right.” I chuckled unamused, knowing very well they will most likely disappear off to somewhere together the second they get the chance to. Irene looked at me with a small smile, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, lightly bumping her shoulder against mine. I watched as her eyebrows slowly furrowed and nose scrunched, leaning closer to sniff me. I yanked my head back and gave her a confused look, Irene looking even more confused, “What?”
“Uh,” She paused, sniffing me again deeply, her eyebrows raising in mild interest, “Y/N, you kinda smell like those werewolves you hate so much…”
“What?!” I snapped, heart somersaulting in my ribcage as I raised my arms to sniff them thoroughly, then raised the front of my dress too, but smelled nothing peculiar, “No, I don’t. What are you talking about?!”
“I mean, you kinda do,” Irene looked at me like I was crazy, “Especially that Mingi guy—”
“No, I don’t.” I hissed, looming over my best friend, muscles tense and blood boiling, “And don’t ever again bring him up!”
Before Irene could react or even look at me like I was crazy, I stormed off towards the opened gates just as my parents car rolled up, their butler getting off first to open the door for them. I took a deep breath and brushed all thoughts aside, assuring myself that the copious shower and intense perfume I downed on myself surely masked any remaining scent of Mingi’s on my body, Irene must’ve smelled it wrong. Perhaps Mingi was lurking around and that’s why she felt his scent on me.
            Two more hours. I only had to survive two more hours of this mayhem until the gates would be closed once again, parents away, serenity coating the Academy once again. I was barely holding on at this point, ears ringing to the point I barely heard anyone talking to me, and head thumping so violently I would’ve willingly asked Mingi to rip my head off. But I had to keep an image, and therefore, I made sure to drink lots of water and mask everything I felt under a small smile that would turn into a grimace whenever nobody was looking at me. Our table was simple and small as it only consisted of my parents and I, and it was more towards the middle of the garden, of course, the prestigious families sat closely together, Irene’s just to our left, with Seulgi a few tables down, Krystal’s nowhere in sight as the druids were seated more towards the entrance, close to the faes. My father and mother found this opportunity perfect to spread their business ideas to the other night creatures, thankfully not bothering me as much as I thought they would. However, the second we sat down to eat is when the real headache started as they drilled me with questions and didn’t fail to remind me of our principles and rules that I must follow at all times.
When my mother saw me, she wasn’t too keen of the changes done to the dress, but she said nothing as she enveloped me in a big hug, smiling at me brightly as she pulled away, her skin absolutely perfect and glinting in the sunlight. She looked very young, almost younger than me, her vampire genes certainly more on the fortunate side, thankfully passed down to me as well. My father was less affectionate, but he was quick to offer me a side hug and smile at me cheekily, playfully asking if I had been up to no good last night as he apparently knew about the bonfire party. I merely laughed and brushed it off, assuring him that I was in bed by twelve, my beauty sleep absolutely necessary. They didn’t have to know of my endeavors last night, not that they would’ve been against me mingling with a werewolf, the opposite, my parents were huge werewolf lovers and supporters. After the clergy, they were the first ones to preach unity between our kinds, urging everyone to love and respect each other, to live in harmony. One would think almost losing their only daughter to a monster would scar them, but they only became bigger believers of the necessity of peace between us, using me as an example quite often. Perhaps my parents played a significant part in my life when it came to me hating werewolves so much.
Barely even half an hour had passed since their arrival when I felt my mother adjusting my hair and telling me to stand up straight, eyebrows furrowed as she kept leaning close, inspecting my face closely. She muttered about the skin of my neck being darker, and for a second, I thought the coverage came off, but my father just told her to leave me alone as nothing was wrong with my neck. I knew my mother would keep a scrutinizing eye on me, but I hoped she wouldn’t try to spot every little flaw about me today. However, that wasn’t the case as she pinched her nose and threw me a disgusted look. I paled, mouth hanging open as she cleared her throat, slapping my father’s arm as she motioned towards me.
“Sweetheart, doesn’t she smell a bit funny today?” She had asked my father, making me freeze as they both stared at me. I felt like a little child all over again.
“Not at all, let the girl relax a little, dear, she’s been tense all day,” My father had sighed and had gently pulled me into his side, chuckling, “She’s walking a bit funny, I bet those physical training classes are quite challenging for you.”
If my face looked as mortified as I had felt in that moment, my parents said nothing about it, they just hummed to each other and let me off, asking me to walk with them as they caught up with old acquittances and present business partners. I wanted to burry myself hearing my parents words, but I just brushed them off and laughed anytime someone mentioned my scent being a little different, hands clenching behind my back into fists, itching to connect with Mingi’s sharp jaw.
Finally, my parents have grown bored of talking to everyone and we were seated at our table currently, them enjoying the copious amount of food placed on our table, me, not so much. I ate very little and told them that I have fed earlier in the morning and wasn’t feeling too keen about having human food as well, which, thankfully, they accepted and didn’t push for more answers. The truth was that I would’ve thrown up right then and there if they would’ve forced me to eat the raw meat on my plate. My eyes were trained on the Song family’s table as my eardrums shook each time they roared with laughter, falling off chairs and conversing just way too loudly taken the setting we were in. I grit my teeth as the sunlight fell perfectly on Mingi’s face, coating him in a golden hue as his longish hair had little braids in it, highlighting the red against his blonde hair. Everything about him was infuriating, and I gulped when my stomach started doing weird flips upon hearing his laughter. His mouth opened wide and his head fell back, body shaking in time with his wheezes, soft skin looking like precious gemstones glinting under the sunlight. I scoffed and grabbed my tall glass, taking a sip of my orange juice as Wooyoung’s witchy laughter pierced my ears, making me shut my eyes in pain.
“Are you still sensitive, love?” My father’s gruff voice made my eyes snap open as I averted my gaze from the Song’s, looking at my father with a forced smile on my lips.
“Yes, some days it’s worse than others.” I explained, making him hum as he looked at my mother.
“Well, that’s not exactly healthy,” He muttered under his breath before shaking his head, “but many things changed in your immune system after you were bitten—”
“I don’t want to talk about this here.” I snapped, voice harsh and body tense as my grip tightened around my glass. Anyone could hear us. My faded bite mark suddenly started pulsating hotly against my skin and I gulped, heartrate accelerating.
“Dear, it’s nothing to be ashamed of—”
“Mother,” I snapped, eyes shooting to her, “Not here.”
My parents fell silent as I remained tense, shooting them piercing stares, the two of them sighing in sync as my mother leaned back in her chair, looking defeated.
“Well, I’m just glad you’re doing alright.” My father suddenly smiled and reached over the table, patting my hand a few times. I nodded with a silent hum and took another gulp of my orange juice, eyes finding the Song table again as they roared with laughter once again. I was about to sneer in their direction, when I realized Mingi was already looking at me, eyebrows lightly furrowed. I threw him a piercing stare, making him avert his gaze as he joined the cheers of his family, making me scoff.
“Aren’t they just a lovely bunch?” My mother mused with a dreamy sigh, “I have always wished vampires were able to reproduce more than once. Imagine all the little fangs we’d find once they fell out, little toes hitting the floorboards loudly, the giggles resounding in our vast mansion, the warm feeling of being a big family.”
Nothing could’ve sounded more horrible than the exact same thing my mother was describing. My father chuckled and took a sip of his wine, watching the Song family too now, “I bet those five pups were rascals while growing up.”
“Still are.” I muttered underneath my breath, thankful that my parents were too busy staring yearningly at the Song family.
“I love the warm and homey feeling they spread around themselves,” My mother smiled fondly, looking back at me, making me sick to my stomach when I saw the look in her eyes, “They truly are a treasure to Nocturnal Parade, lighting up every corner they pass with their positive energy. You’re lucky you get to go to the Academy at the same time as the pups.”
“Lucky,” I almost snorted, but quickly masked it as I took another sip of my orange juice, eyes finding Mingi’s again, “You’re right. I’m so lucky.”
For some unknown reason, I felt enticed by Mingi’s eyes on me, mind fuzzy for a second as I watched him stand and excuse himself from his parents, headed towards the side of the garden where large pillars kept the construction of the greenhouse up. My jaw ticked and I took a deep breath, trying to fight the sudden urge to go after Mingi, but I figured he deserved to be chastised for leaving his strong scent all over me, so, I quickly stood and told my parents I would be back as I tried not to hurry after him, instead ended up doing a speedwalk towards Mingi. When I came up behind him, I grabbed his arm and yanked him after me, away from the prying eyes and curious glances, behind a tall pillar, silence finally enveloping around me as I was away from the loud chatter and laughter of the gardens.
“What are you—”
“Why do I still smell like you?!” I snapped, glaring at Mingi as he pulled his arm out of my grip rather harshly, “Everyone can tell, Mingi! I thought nobody was supposed to know about—”
“And nobody knows, alright?!” Mingi snapped back, eyebrows furrowed as he didn’t look me in the eyes, “It’s not my fault you smell like me. It happens with anyone, not just me, Y/N.”
“Well nobody else’s scent I’ve slept with was as strong as yours, so it is your fault.” I hissed back, stepping closer, confused as to why Mingi wasn’t looking me in the face. Something felt off, something was wrong. I could simply feel it. There was a nervosity in my system that wasn’t there before, I almost felt the way Mingi looked. My faced blanked as something dropped deep in my stomach, eyebrows furrowing at the sudden need to reach out and touch Mingi. There was something so magnetic about him, something so luring that I stepped back with a gasp, watching Mingi alarmed and confused as his head whipped up.
“What have you done to me?” I asked in a whisper, hugging myself, trying to comfort myself as Mingi’s mouth fell open, gaping at me. The color drained from his face and my heartrate matched his as it started racing, profoundly confused.
“No—nothing.” It wasn’t like Mingi to stutter, it wasn’t like Mingi to suddenly avert his eyes and look small. It unsettled me and made me feel more panicked as I took a step forward, eyebrows furrowing more.
“Mingi.” I hissed, leaning down to try and look into his eyes, but he just looked further away, “Something happened, didn’t it?”
“No?” Mingi sounded far away from being convincing and I licked my lips in frustration, reaching out and grabbing his elbow. Mingi’s head whipped up towards me suddenly, his body heat so overwhelming that I felt dizzy as his cinnamon scent entered my senses, so calming that I felt my tense muscles suddenly relax. It was too confusing, never having experienced something like it before.
“I—” Mingi hesitated, sounding almost breathless as he looked me in my eyes finally, “I have imprinted on you, Y/N.”
“What?!” I screamed, releasing his elbow as if it burned me, eyes bulging and jaw on the floor as everything stilled around me. Mingi looked nervous and embarrassed as his cheeks flushed red, clearing his throat when I said nothing else, hoping that he’d say that he was just pulling a stupid prank on me.
“Mingi.” I hissed, getting all up in his face in a sudden burst of anger, glaring at him furiously, “What do you mean you imprinted on me?!”
“Exactly that, Y/N, oh, my God.” Mingi groaned, rubbing his face, taking a deep breath.
“No.” I snapped, fisting his grey sweater, “I—I refuse. No, unimprint on me or something!”
“What?” Mingi looked confused, rolling his eyes, “I can’t unimprint on you—that word doesn’t even exist, Y/N.”
“I don’t care what word exists and doesn’t, Mingi.” I hissed, yanking him down to be eye level with me, “You can’t fucking imprint on me. I’m a vampire and you’re a werewolf. What is wrong with you?!”
“Nothing’s wrong with me, stop being a bitch!” Mingi hissed, gripping my wrists. Electricity coursed through my skin where he touched me and my eyes widened in fright, giving him a look, but it didn’t seem to phase Mingi.
“Do you imprint on everyone you sleep with?!” I hissed, body shaking in anger, heart beating fast. It wasn’t helping that Mingi looked calm, almost defeated, as if this was final and he had accepted his fate.
The glare he gave me was sharp and unimpressed, “That’s not what this was—”
“Really?!” My voice raised again, panic coating my voice, “Because we were completely fine until last night, Mingi! And now you’re telling me that—you—I—that we’re—mates?!”
“We’ll be mates if you accept me, I thought you knew this by now—”
“It doesn’t make any sense!” I exclaimed, breathing fast as Mingi’s fingers suddenly started rubbing the skin of my wrist softly, sighing quietly, “You can’t imprint on me.”
“Calm down first, your heart is beating like crazy.” Mingi whispered, voice soft and raspy, warm brown eyes boring into mine. I felt on the verge of teras as his warmth engulfed me, coating me in safety I’ve never felt before, a bubble of safety and calmness wrapping around us. He started taking slow deep breaths, making me subconsciously copy him as I felt myself relax once again, shake his hands off once I felt fine. I took a step back and was rather rattled when my body instantly yearned for Mingi’s. This was bad. Very bad.
“You need to sort this out, Mingi.” I gestured around wildly, eyes wide, “Whatever you do, I don’t care. But you can’t imprint on me.”
“Well, I already did.” Mingi seemed annoyed as his words felt sharp, giving me a pointed stare, “So accept it, because it won’t change.”
“You can’t just say that!” I whisper-shouted, feeling furious again as Mingi continued acting nonchalant about this whole ordeal.
“I’m not as horrible as you think I am—”
“Mingi.” I snapped, shaking my head at him, “No. Just no. We’re not having this conversation. Unimprint on me and we’re done, that’s it!”
“I just told you, I can’t possibly—”
“Mingi?” A quiet voice called out, soft and timid as I whirled around, Mingi walking past me instantly.
“Yes, Dahyun?” Mingi smiled, previous tension and anger gone from his face, and he crouched in front of his much shorter sister. Dahyun gave me a warry look before poking Mingi’s cheek, giggling.
“Mom and dad are wondering where you are,” She muttered, casting me another warry look, “I saw you walking off with the vampire that smells like you, so I told them I’ll bring you back.”
It wasn’t hard to notice Mingi’s body freeze at his younger sister’s words and I scoffed, completely flabbergasted that this little girl could tell I smelled like Mingi. This was the absolute worst, and I was close to simply ceasing my existence once and for all. Before they could say anything to me, I stormed past them, headed back to my table, thinking of excuses I could use to get my parents out of the garden and away from the Song family.
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            The past few days have been…silent, weird, different, empty, almost. They felt unsettling and I found myself unable to sleep at night, and even if I did, I would wake up in a cold sweat, chest heavy and lungs heaving for air. Something just simply didn’t feel alright and I knew there was nothing wrong with me per se, with my vampire being, yet something was affecting me rather harshly. And it was noticeable in my appearance as well. No matter how often and how much I fed, my skin looked sickly pale and the glow of my dense hair seemed absent no matter how much I tried fixing it. My cheeks had fallen slightly in, creating a hollowness in them that wasn’t there before. I looked like I was decaying and I didn’t understand why when I was completely healthy and fine. Yet, something was doing this to me and I couldn’t help but blame it on this whole imprinting thing, and Mingi. I haven’t seen him since Parents Day, and despite deciding to avoid him for an eternity, it seemed like Mingi had the same thing in mind as me. Even in our shared classes, he was nowhere to be seen. I couldn’t even smell him or hear him, yet Yunho was certainly there, his aura very much so present. Nobody said anything, perhaps too afraid to make a comment about my sickly appearance, and I knew I needed answers. I couldn’t go on like this anymore despite not wanting to see Mingi. There was something very wrong about my body, something internal and scarily real as the longer I stayed away from him, the stronger the yearning became. The heaviness in my chest only got worse with each ticking minute, and I knew I couldn’t go on like this anymore when I started listening in on the creatures’ conversations around me, searching for Mingi’s name, searching for his voice even, for his infuriatingly loud and obnoxious laughter, his unbearable stench, and his stupid siblings. I needed to put an end to my own suffering, therefore I decided to act like an adult for the first time in my life, and find Mingi in order to talk things through, even if I didn’t want to.
History of the Vampires was an excruciatingly long class and I couldn’t wait to be finished with it, unable to sit still as my mind kept wandering elsewhere, desperately trying to clock Mingi’s voice or even aura in the building. But it was harder to find him than I thought it would be, almost as if he was hiding himself from me, Yunho’s strong aura overbearing Mingi’s whenever they were together. And I knew those two were together as I searched for familiar voices conversing, lowering my head so that my professor wouldn’t notice my closed eyes as I focused on singling out Mingi’s raspy and deep voice amongst his siblings as they were out in the fields, not too far away from the classroom I was in. Dahyun was talking to him, and it was the first time I heard the younger girl’s voice for such a long period, animatedly retelling a story to Mingi about a boy she liked in her class. At first I thought Mingi wasn’t talking to her, until I realized Wooyoung and Yeri’s cackling was too loud for me to pinpoint Mingi’s soft voice as he muttered to Dahyun words I couldn’t understand. It felt alarming how easily I found myself wanting to know more about Mingi’s bond with his siblings, wondering whether I would fit in with them. And it was hard to listen to Mingi’s quiet voice as he departed with Yunho from the rest of their siblings, the twins headed to class as Mingi’s aura remained still dull, washed out by Yunho’s. I didn’t think masking one’s existence was possible, but then again, I didn’t know much about werewolves and their abilities as I always remained ignorant to them due to my hatred towards them.
Once class was over I excused myself from my friends in a hurry, finally able to pinpoint Mingi’s exact location as Yunho wasn’t so close to him anymore, making it easy for me to follow Mingi’s voice and scent. He was two floors below my classroom, having their own history class about Werewolves. By the time I got to the classroom not many students were there, however, I could hear a few still inside, Mingi included. Closing my eyes as I leaned against the stone wall, I could hear him scribbling something in his notebook, muttering to himself about having forgotten to do his physics homework. Yunho had left Mingi behind, saying that he was becoming restless, and how he needed a run before their next class. The full moon was tonight, I could only assume it had something to do with their moods, werewolves became rather restless in the afternoons on full moon nights. Finally, the last three students left the classroom laughing and whispering to each other, looking back inside, no doubt gawking at Mingi. Something clenched in my stomach, making me hiss at the three girls as they passed in front of me, looking fearful once they noticed who I was. The scurried away and I couldn’t help but smirk in glee, that is until I heard Mingi scrambling around the classroom, gathering his things to leave. I took a deep breath and willed myself to push off the wall, hands slightly trembling as I appeared in the doorway just when Mingi was about to step through it.
He gasped; eyes wide. Our gazed connected and I couldn’t help but smile at him, tilting my head in wonder as he gulped hard, audibly, licking his chapped lips. There was little distance between our bodies, and he suddenly took three big steps backwards, making my eyebrows furrow in disdain as his comfortable warmth disappeared with him. My heart shouldn’t have picked up so fast, racing just at the sight of him, senses flooded with his cinnamon and fresh grass scent. I took a step forward, the door shutting behind me with a loud thud, trapping Mingi and I inside the otherwise empty classroom. The windows were open, a warm fresh breeze slithering inside. It probably wasn’t the reason why Mingi’s cheeks were suddenly flushed, gaze averted again as he cleared his throat loudly, as if something was stuck there. I allowed myself a short moment to take in his appearance, and was taken aback to find him sickly looking, dark bags underneath his tired looking eyes, lips chapped to the point of looking painful, and cheeks as hollow as mine. It was startling, and it only raised more questions in my mind as I took a deep breath, the strong cinnamon scent burning the back of my throat.
“We need to speak,” I spoke up, voice unsure as I continued looking at Mingi, who was still avoiding eye contact, “something is…happening to me.”
Ever so slowly, he turned his head, eyes reluctantly falling on me. His thick eyebrows furrowed as his eyes racked my body, then stopped on my face, looking very confused, “Were you avoiding me?”
Mingi hummed, pursing his lips as he cleared his throat, “Yes.”
I didn’t expect him to be so honest, for some reason it didn’t feel nice at all, “How did you mask yourself so well?”
“A pack can mask their wolves when sensing danger.” Mingi explained, eyes suddenly steeling as he licked his lips again. My eyebrows furrowed, feeling confused all over again.
“Am I a danger to you?” I found myself whispering, looking at Mingi questioningly. Something in my stomach dropped at the prospect of me being the cause of danger to Mingi.
“With how much you keep threatening me, yes.” I chuckled humorlessly at Mingi’s words, and he looked just as unamused as I felt. His shoulders were slouched forward as he shook his head, looking defeated, “What do you want, Y/N?”
“To talk.”
“Then talk.”
I gulped, feeling off thrown by Mingi’s hostile attitude, acting as if he didn’t even want to see me. Hadn’t he imprinted on me? Weren’t we supposed to be mates now? Why was he being so cold towards me? My heart beat faster, body yearning to feel Mingi’s warmth so desperately that I had to dig my nails in my palms to stop myself from marching up to him and latching myself onto his body.
“Ever since you—imprinted on me, I just—I don’t know.” I gulped, averting my eyes as Mingi’s sharp gaze bore into mine, “We haven’t seen each other in almost four days and I—I don’t feel well, Mingi. Something is happening to me, and I don’t understand what—”
I gasped at how fast Mingi closed the gap between us, orchid-colored eyes boring into mine, making me shrink back in fear. Have I angered him again? Was he going to hurt me? But to my surprise, Mingi’s hand gently cupped my cheek as he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, holding it in his lungs as I remained still, afraid to breathe. Nobody spoke as he slowly exhaled, eyes snapping open, once again brown, staring at me with a newfound softness in them. I gulped, taken aback by the tingles traveling all over my body, cheek warm from Mingi’s palm, a safety bubble nestling around us. I felt complete again, the heaviness in my chest not as strong as before, my heartbeat beating fast like never before, a pull so strong towards Mingi deep in my being that I realized I couldn’t ignore it anymore. Mingi licked his lips again, suddenly looking like he’s made up his mind about something, softly exhaling again as he opened his mouth to speak, probably, but I couldn’t focus on anything else anymore but the feel of Mingi so close to myself. I didn’t need to hear his words in this moment, I needed to feel him. And I did just that as I desperately cupped his cheeks, pressing my lips against his. Mingi froze, unmoving and hand falling from my cheek limply as I squeezed my eyes shut tight, inhaling his comforting scent as our lips molded together.
As I went to pull back, realizing that Mingi wouldn’t kiss back, suddenly fingers tangled in my hair and pushed my head back with a newfound force, our lips crashing against each other as Mingi whimpered, not wasting any time as he set a bruising pace. My hands slipped from his cheeks to hug around his neck as I flushed my body against his, sighing into the kiss as my body almost felt like it was lit from the inside, heart fluttering, and the yearning in my stomach turning into a desperate want as the pace of our slick lips quickened, desperately needing more of Mingi. I moaned against his mouth as he captured my bottom lip between his lips, suckling on it softly before licking it, and hovering his lips against mine, breathing through his mouth as shivers racked my spine. My fingers tangled in his hair, which was in a half-up ponytail again, and I quickly got rid of the hair tie as I gently pulled on his soft locks, parting my mouth in permission for Mingi. I could hear his heart beating like crazy, faster than mine even, and in a flash, his tongue was pushing past my lips, tangling with mine, my skin feeling as if it was on fire. Mingi was warm, almost to the point he was burning up, and I failed to notice it getting transferred to my own body as I clung to him, moaning when he skillfully licked inside my mouth, taking his sweet time to suck on my tongue before allowing me to push mine inside his mouth, relishing in the quiet whimpers that left the back of his throat. His hands eagerly explored my body as they slowly slipped towards my backside, squeezing my ass hard through the skirt of my uniform, my eyebrows furrowing as I tried not to moan. With our heads now tilted, I felt myself turn into a puddle as Mingi hiked one of my leg’s up before making me jump up, legs squeezing around his waist firmly as I held onto him. Mingi didn’t stop kissing me as he walked us towards a desk, gently setting me down as we broke apart for a second to fill our lungs with air.
As he tried to step back, I tightened my legs around his waist and pulled him even closer to myself, biting my lower lip when his heavily ring clad fingers grasped at my left thigh, black tinted nails digging into my flesh. Mingi’s hot puffs of air landed on my lips and I licked mine, failing to notice the lust in Mingi’s eyes as he watched me closely, eyes constantly flickering between brown and orchid. He rested his right hand on the desk, next to my hip, as he pressed his forehead against mine. My breathing was heavy as I realized just how badly I needed to feel all of him, feeling on the verge of craze as he lifted his chin ever so slightly when I went to kiss his lips, making my eyebrows furrow as I whined at the denial. But I quickly was forced to inhale sharply as Mingi’s calloused, big, hand slowly slipped up higher on my thigh, underneath my skirt, making me groan as he massaged the inside of my thigh, my lips attaching to the skin of chin. It was soft despite the little stubble growing out, and Mingi moaned as my lips travelled lower, pressing open mouthed kissed against his neck, his Adam’s apple, nipping at his hot skin at the junction between his neck and collarbones, slightly distracted by Mingi’s grip on my thigh tightening as I slipped a hand under his shirt. His abdomen was firm and his muscles tensed under my fingertips as Mingi looked down at me while breathing heavily as I blinked at him innocently, a soft groan escaping his lips before he crashed his lips against mine.
It felt like my soul was alive again, a fire lit deep in my stomach as our tongues battled for dominance, and I pulled Mingi’s body flush against mine, moaning when I felt his erection press against my core, fingers tangling in his hair once again firmly. Mingi moaned as I pulled on the longer strands around his nape, making me gasp against his lips as he moved his hips, slowly grinding against me. His warm palm slowly slipped from my thigh and I whined at the loss of it, but his hand instead went and gripped my waist firmly, keeping me in place as he moved slowly, dragging his hard-on against my throbbing core. His free hand cupped my covered breast and I moaned into his mouth as his tongue pushed deep inside my mouth, toes curling as he kept grinding against me, setting my skin on fire, his scent intoxicating as the layers separating us became unbearable.
“Mingi,” I pulled my head back, moaning as Mingi didn’t stop kissing me, latching his lips onto my neck instead, “this isn’t talking—Mingi!”
I yelped as his fangs nipped against the sensitive skin of my neck, making me throw my head back as I gripped his belt, trying to stop him from grinding against me anymore, everything becoming too much.
“Mingi,” I tried again, voice breathless as he sucked at a spot under my collarbones harshly, licking it slowly afterwards, “we’re in a classroom, we have to stop.”
“I never thought you’d be a prude.” Mingi’s voice was extremely low as he spoke against my skin, lips like feather as they brushed against my heated body.
“I’m not a prude,” I hissed as Mingi’s hips stilled, but with his hard-on pressing sharply against my clothed core, “but if a professor walks in, we’re done for.”
Mingi groaned and he raised his head to rest his forehead against my shoulder, taking deep breaths as I licked my lips, staring up at the ceiling as I tried to ignore the desperate need to rip his clothes off and let him take me on this desk. Mingi took a deep breath, which tickled me once he exhaled, and I felt him move as he looked up at me, releasing my waist as he gently cupped my face again, pushing the strands of hair behind my ears, smiling cutely as his cheeks were flushed pink.
“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this alive before.” He whispered, truly looking like he felt lighter. It was a little disheartening as I realized that the heaviness was lifted off of my chest, my own skin buzzing with excitement as I felt myself smiling back. The truth was that I felt the same as Mingi, but I was too afraid to admit it. Something was changing and I was afraid to acknowledge it when I spent my whole life hating on the species right in front of me, in between my legs, making my heart swell with his gorgeous smile and cute flush, his deep eyes, and clumsy personality. I was still afraid of werewolves, I still hated them, but I couldn’t deny the sudden pull towards Mingi anymore.
“We have to talk.” I didn’t mean to break the serene bubble around us, but we needed to clarify so many things, “I have too many questions, and you have a lot to explain.”
Mingi nodded with a hum, lowering his head, surprising me as he slowly nuzzled his cheek against mine, inhaling deeply, making me blush as the endearing action. Nobody has ever done that before, and it made my skin jittery as it felt good.
“I promise we will talk, but tonight’s the full moon and my mind is all fogged-up, Y/N,” Mingi explained as he gave me an awkward smile, “I can’t exactly…think right now, if you know what I mean. And I don’t want to do something we’d both regret later. All I can think about is marking you right now, and that needs a serious conversation first.”
My heart jumped in fright at the mention of marking, and I gulped as I slowly nodded my head, realizing finally that Mingi had no malicious intentions towards me. If he did, he wouldn’t be saying things like that, nor treating me gently. I offered him a small smile and he chuckled, leaning down to press a lasting kiss against my lips.
“It’s a shame we must stop, but,” Mingi smiled cheekily as he removed himself from my body, much to my dismay, “I have to go to class, I’m already late, and I know Yunho will come looking for me in exactly three minutes.”
I chuckled as I watched Mingi try and straighten his clothes, brushing through his long strands, searching for the hair tie, which seemed to be gone. I grinned as he gave up searching for it, instead went and grabbed his backpack discarded on the floor.
“See you tomorrow?” He raised his eyebrows, still adjusting his messy hair, “When I’m not thinking with my dick?”
I snorted, nodding my head as I licked my lips and crossed my legs, remaining seated on top of the desk, “See you tomorrow after lunch break, I know you have a free period.”
“Someone’s been stalking me, huh?” Mingi smirked as I looked away embarrassed, gulping before I admitted a little secret of mine.
“When you spend so much time hating on someone, it’s alarming how much you learn about them.” Mingi’s smirk only widened to my horror, completely amused by my admission, instead of feeling hurt or even angry.
“What a little freak I have to deal with—”
“I’m not a freak!” I exclaimed in irritation, making Mingi chuckle as he walked backwards towards the door.
“We’ll see after I find out more about you,” He winked as he opened the door, “Take care, doll.”
I rolled my eyes as my face flushed at the pet name, and my eyes stayed glued to the door even after Mingi was long gone, his footsteps faded as he made his way towards his classroom, Yunho making a ruckus as to why he was late and why he looked so shaken up. I chuckled and fell backwards on the desk, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly as I raised my hands, playing with the black hair tie around my wrist. This was becoming real, wasn’t it?
            I bobbed my head to the music as I wrote down some more numbers, rubbing my forehead as I had been doing equations for more than an hour now. It was late in the evening, and after Irene and I studied for a while together, she said she needed to go somewhere, and left around half an hour ago. She promised she’d be back early tonight and we could have a girl’s night, but I had my doubts about that as I knew she was with Seulgi. It didn’t bother me as much as it normally would’ve as my mind was distracted with thoughts of Mingi, impatiently waiting for tomorrow to arrive so that we’d finally discuss where this…something…was headed between us. The wind had picked up and it was rattling the old hinges of the window, and I turned my head to look out the window, lightning in the distance. A storm was coming, and the dark clouds made it hard to spot the full moon, but its light was strong enough to pinpoint it on the dark sky.
As I started solving another equation, the guitar in the song I was listening to was soft and calming, but there were rapid knocks against the door of the room, disturbing my peace, making me look towards it with furrowed eyebrows. It was almost eight in the evening, slowly we were approaching curfew. Only the wolves were allowed outside past curfew tonight, so it made me wonder who it could have been. I placed my pen down and pushed away from my desk, standing and stretching my stiff muscles as I went to swing the door open. I was rather surprised to find a short, dark haired, girl standing in the hallway, chewing on her lower lip as she looked up at me. We stared at each other for a few seconds, me flabbergasted to find Dahyun standing in my doorway, and the little girl staring past me, inside my room, wonderingly.
“Uh, what are you doing here?” I asked confused, eyebrows furrowing.
“Is Mingi here?” She asked quietly, trying to look inside my room again.
“No, why?” I answered curtly, watching the girl warily.
“Are you sure?” She pressed, looking up with a glare at me, “Are you lying to me?”
I scoffed and crossed my arms in front of my chest as a rather strong gust of wind rattled the windows out in the hallway. The lights flickered for a second, making both Dahyun and I pause as we looked around.
“Why would I lie to you?” I asked once Dahyun faced me again, and I rolled my eyes when the girl continued glaring at me, “Be my guest and have a look inside my room. I haven’t seen Mingi, why would I even know where he is? Isn’t he your brother?”
Dahyun didn’t seem too happy with my answer, and suddenly her small hand grabbed mine and I was yanked down with such force that I gasped, taken aback by just how strong the little werewolf girl was. I stiffened when her face suddenly pressed forward, nose pressing against the junction between my neck and collarbone, inhaling deeply.
“What—what are you doing?” I stuttered, brushing the girl off, feeling weirded out.
“Mingi scented you.” The girl said, eyebrows furrowing as she took a step back, taking me in fully, “You smell like him, that’s why I thought he was here.”
I felt rather confused as I smelled myself, but felt no scent of Mingi on myself. What did she mean that he scented me? Wasn’t that a werewolf thing? How could he even scent a vampire? When did he do it that I didn’t even notice?
“I don’t smell like him.” I objected, glaring down at the girl as she looked suddenly scared when there was a flash of lightning in the distance. I opened my mouth to send her off, but the way she latched onto my arm and looked up at me pleadingly made me pause.
“I can’t feel Mingi’s scent,” The little girl whimpered, “and a storm is coming, I’m scared. Mingi always tucks me in before bed, and I’ve searched for him everywhere and I can’t find him.”
I felt awkward as I cleared my throat, not knowing how to comfort the distressed girl, “Uh, well, you have many siblings. Go find them.”
“I need to find Mingi.” Dahyun stressed, “I know where Yunho is as I can feel his aura and smell his scent, but for some reason Mingi’s gone. I’m scared something happened to him, Y/N.”
I gulped, suddenly fearing the same as I tried to listen closely as I searched for Mingi’s voice in the vicinity, but came up empty handed. I sighed as I continued looking at the girl, who started shaking now, and I shook my head, “Wooyoung and Yeri will certainly help you.”
“Wooyoung is also shifting tonight and Yeri didn’t even open the door when I told her it was me knocking,” My eyebrows furrowed at the cruelty of her older sister, feeling a sneer wanting to settle on my face, “Can you help me, please?”
Perhaps the sweet, and teary, puppy eyes staring up into mine were what broke my resolve as I sighed and nodded tiredly, watching a smile appear on Dahyun’s face, “Where should I look for Mingi?”
“They are usually at the shed at this time.” She said, detaching herself from me. My eyebrows furrowed as my heart lightly picked up, mouth going dry at the prospect of having to step outside during a full moon while the campus was littered with wild, animalistic, werewolves running around freely.
“I can’t go out there, I’m sorry.” I muttered, eyebrows furrowed, “The whole place is infested with werewolves and I—”
“They haven’t shifted yet, I promise.” Dahyun quickly interjected, “Mingi always struggles shifting, and Yunho always waits for him. Please, it’s not dangerous to look for them, they are very docile and still recognize everyone in their wolf forms. Please, Y/N, please.”
I gulped and looked outside through the window behind Dahyun, feeling a coldness seep through my bones the longer I thought about this stupid request. But I couldn’t deny that I also felt worried for Mingi now, and one more look at Dahyun had me giving in, “Alright, wait here, and I’ll go look for Mingi. If Irene, my roommate, comes back, tell her that I let you stay here until I come back, okay?”
“Yes, thank you very much!” Dahyun almost cried in happiness as she walked inside my room, making me sigh again as I grabbed my light cardigan, wrapping it around myself tightly as I left the room. I tied my hair with the black hair tie forgotten on my wrist as I knew the harsh wind would whip it all around in my face.
            Perhaps coming out to the shed in a long skirt and a t-shirt with nothing but a cardigan on in such violent wind wasn’t the brightest idea as I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to warm myself by rubbing my hands up and down quickly. However, it offered little to no warmth, and I shivered as I heard howling in the distance, my skirt getting caught in dry weed as I hissed, tumbling a little forward and into the door of the shed. At least I have finally reached it. It isn’t too far from the dorms, but it’s on the outskirts of the forest, and I could feel my heartbeat picking up as I knocked on the door loudly.
“Mingi?!” I called out over the loud wind, carefully pushing the door open, sticking my head inside to see if anyone was in. But it seemed empty and I took a warry step inside, feeling my eyes turn scarlet as my senses spiked as I felt on edge so exposed and alone. I slowly walked further inside, scanning the shed, but Mingi’s scent was absent, and he was nowhere to be seen as well. I sighed as I tightened the cardigan around myself and leaned over the table discarded in the middle of the room, finding clothes scattered around. I could smell the stench of wet dog, yet Mingi’s scent was absent. Maybe it weren’t his clothes, however the disregarded chains looked a lot like his necklaces. I sighed, and went to turn around when the old floorboard creaked up front, making me freeze. I slowly raised my head, looking around again, feeling my heartbeat quicken even more.
“Mingi?” I whispered, chewing on my bottom lip in fear, my breath coming in short as there was another creak. Just as I opened my mouth to call out his name again, two glowing orchid-colored eyes appeared in the dense darkness, making me gasp loudly as my hands slapped against the desk as they fell from around my body. I stared into the beasts eyes as it stepped forward from the shadows, form huge and menacing as its fangs were long. Its fur was midnight black and thick, scent completely unrecognizable as I tried to sniff around for Mingi. My body trembled as we looked each other dead in the eyes, memories of that dreadful night flashing in my mind.
The weather had been similar, wind blowing harshly and a distant rumble in the skies as the storm was fast approaching. I was playing in the flower field on our propriety, gathering flowers before the pouring rain arrived, humming a song to myself, oblivious to the world around myself. I had turned five years old just a few days ago, I had no worries in the world, nothing to be afraid of. That is until I realized something was snarling not too far away from me, staring at me piercingly, as I giggled while playing with my imaginary friends. It wasn’t a full moon, but for rogue werewolves it didn’t matter whether it was day or night, full moon or not. Just as I was about to turn around and leave for the mansion, it pounced on me, snarling in my face as I was pinned to the cold ground, shrieking and screaming as its saliva dripped on me. I could still remember, and feel, the pure terror that coursed through my whole being, screaming and calling for my parents to help me. The werewolf didn’t like that I was being so loud, or a vampire, and it bared its teeth at me when I started crying, begging it to let me go. The rogue wolf was scary and strong, no matter how hard I tried to escape, I couldn’t. It happened in a flash, it’s claws pressing painfully against my chest as its teeth ripped through the skin of my forearm, making me cry out so loudly that I thought I broke my vocal cords. It felt as if someone pushed a burning rod inside my body one after another, two sharp needles ripping your skin apart, tearing you up from the inside. My body started convulsing as I continued screaming, mind hazy and breathing ragged from the excruciating pain. I didn’t remember much after that, only waking up numb in the hospital, tubes connected to my left arm and bicep bandaged tightly, my mother sitting at my side, and only crying harder when she saw I had opened my eyes. The second my father walked in with the werewolf doctor is when everything suddenly dawned on me, sending me into a hysterical fit, to the point I needed to be sedated, trembling and crying out for the poor doctor to stay away from me. It was a trauma I was forced to live with, and I could never actually put it past myself, that pain forever present in the back of my mind as my faded bite mark started pulsing painfully once again.
I took a slow step backwards, barely even moving, but the werewolf caught it and suddenly snarled, making me jump in terror as even my head started shaking violently in fear. I was taken back to that day, when I was a defenseless little girl, almost killed by a monster so similar to the one facing me right now. My attacker had black fur with white patches, I could never forget its fur and orchid eyes. I knew wolves had the urge to chase their prey once they started running, but it was either I stayed here and surely died, or tried to run and save myself. I acted upon realizing I wasn’t ready to die at the claws of this monster, and turned swiftly, taking off as I heard the werewolf howl behind me, jumping over the table to chase after me. I screamed when I realized he was really after me, snarling and howling every few minutes, a lot faster than I had anticipated. I had to grip my skirt and raise it above my knees as my lungs burned and muscles strained, never having ran this fast before in my life. My mind was only focused on saving myself, on taking me far away from danger. I didn’t realize that I was running further inside the forest instead of heading towards the dorms, where the werewolves were forbidden of entering once they have shifted.
I ran even faster as my sensitive ears picked up on the loud thuds the werewolf was making as it chased after me, snarling louder, sounding completely furious as I was gasping for air, lungs completely empty and begging for me to take a breather, but if I stopped, I would die. I pushed even more, using my inhumane speed to try and get rid of the beast, but it seemed like it did nothing as the wolf chased after me without sounding tired and nowhere near of giving up on its pursuit of me. I was becoming desperate, I couldn’t go on like this for much longer, my body was shaking despite me running. I was filled with adrenaline, heart pumping my blood fast as I ran for my life, until I felt the werewolf nipping at the back of my skirt with its large teeth, making me cry out in fright. I turned my head to see the distance between us, but it was a foolish action as it caused me to lose my footing, tripping in the huge twigs scattered around the forest floor, sending me to the ground with a painful tumble. I cried out as I felt my skin scrape through my cardigan, even if it would heal in mere seconds, it was still painful. I hadn’t even realized that I have started crying, and now that the werewolf was just a foot behind me, snarling and hissing at me animalistically, I started crying loudly, trying to get away from it until my back hit a tree.
“Please,” I whimpered, jumping when the wolf growled at me, staring me menacingly in the eyes. I shook my head and pressed my hands against my mouth, lungs heaving for air as my whole body shook, eyes filled to the brim with tears, my vision blurry, “Mingi!”
I didn’t understand why I called out his name, but I found myself desperately clinging onto his name as if it would save me, as if it would send the werewolf away, “Mingi! Please, Mingi! Help!”
My screams were shrill and my throat hurt, but it only made me shake more as the black wolf growled and almost jumped at me, hitting its paws against the forest floor annoyed, hissing, and puffing. I could feel the pain I felt that day, spreading from my bicep down to my arm, infecting my brain with that excruciating ache, and I started sobbing as I pressed my head against my knees, curling up in a ball as if it would’ve protected me from the beast. I didn’t even realize it in that moment, but I started calling out Mingi’s name as if it were a mantra, praying to all celestial powers that he would show up and save me from this monster, which was coming closer and closer, its hisses and growls louder by the second. I hate werewolves, I hate them so much, yet I was calling out the name of one until my throat was too dry to scream anymore. Only my sobs could be heard around us, and the scream I let out when I felt arms wrapping around me, sending me into a panicked state as I trashed around, trying to fight the grip they had on me off. I couldn’t hear and I couldn’t see due to the deep-rooted fear I felt, that is, until a faint voice slowly started getting to me, my brain registering the familiar rasp of it, the deep tone I was used to hearing.
“Y/N, Y/N, please, it’s me,” The voice was soft and scared, sounding almost like it was talking to a scared little child, “It’s me, Y/N, Mingi. I’m Mingi, you’re safe, please—”
My arms flew around Mingi’s neck as I threw myself at him, gasping for air loudly as I clung to him to the point my nails dug into his naked shoulders, drawing blood. Mingi’s body felt warm, muscles stiff, but he instantly cradled me against himself, fingers tangling in my hair as he started quietly shushing me. I continued to cry for a few more minutes, hard to completely calm down, but Mingi’s warmth and reassuring words seemed to get my heartrate back to normal, making me forget the panic I felt just minutes ago.
“You’re alright, I’m here.” Mingi’s nose pressed into my hair, lips barely brushing against my ear as he whispered quietly into it, “You’re safe, I’m here. Nothing will hurt you, Y/N, you can calm down now. I’m here, I got you.”
I let out a shuddered breath as I closed my eyes, pressing my face into Mingi’s neck and inhaling his comforting scent, feeling my muscles ease up as Mingi’s fingers brushed through my disheveled hair, pressing kisses against my temple. I took a deep breath and let out a long sigh, heart still beating fast, and body on high alert as the adrenaline didn’t leave me yet.
“Mingi.” I croaked out, slowly pulling my head back to look at him, feeling my lips tremble as I realized just how terrified I had been, “I was so—”
“It’s okay now,” Mingi cut me off with a small smile, expression soft as he nuzzled his nose against mine, closing his eyes for a second, “You don’t have to talk. Just sit in my arms and calm down.”
“Mingi,” I whispered, feeling the need to cry again, but I forced the tears away just as Mingi’s cheek touched mine, and he nuzzled them together just like he had done earlier today, in the classroom, “Thank you. I’m so sorry.”
Mingi looked confused once he pulled back, but when he noticed I was looking at the bloody nail marks on his shoulders, he just chuckled and shrugged, “Don’t worry, I’ve been roughed up way worse before.”
I looked into his eyes again and loosened my suffocating grip around him, but still clung onto him, overlooking the fact that he was completely naked. I was still trembling and afraid, I wasn’t physically able to let go of him yet. And just then, there was a growl to our right, and I gasped as I turned my head and saw the black werewolf standing there, eyes set sharply on Mingi. My body started shaking violently again and I felt my fight or flight kick in again, but Mingi held me strongly against himself, caging me against his body as he hugged me tightly, shushing me when I tried to speak up.
“You, asshole!” Mingi hissed towards the werewolf, making my eyes widen, “What is wrong with you, Yunho?!”
My eyes widened as I snapped my head towards the wolf, finding him shuffling on his four legs, snarling his teeth at us.
“Why would you chase her, are you nuts?!” Mingi’s voice was raising, I could feel his heartrate quicken underneath my cold hand, “You know she has some sort of trauma with werewolves and you go chasing her around the fucking forest, during a full moon, you idiot!”
Mingi’s words were sharp, and it was visible on his face that he was beyond pissed as he snarled his own fangs at the black werewolf, which was Yunho, apparently. I remained silent as I watched the exchange between the twins, one in human form, the other in werewolf form, my muscles tense but not like before as I realized I was away from danger now. There was a whimper and I cast my eyes upon Yunho, who was looking down at the forest floor, dragging his front paws as if he was asking for forgiveness.
“We’ll talk about this tomorrow, dude,” Mingi snapped, shaking his head in disappointment, “I’m done running around for tonight, go find Wooyoung or someone else. And don’t come back tonight to the dorm after you’re done being an asshole. Get lost!”
I watched with an open mouth as the big, black, and scary werewolf hung its head even lower, cries and whimpers leaving its mouth as it started jumping around, pressing its front paws forcefully and harshly into the solid soil.
“Stop throwing a fit, Yunho.” Mingi said with a roll of his eyes, his hands rubbing my back up and down in a comforting manner, “I won’t tell you to get lost again.”
The werewolf growled, but it lacked power and menace as he cast us one lasting stare before it turned around and ran off with loud howls, making Mingi roll his eyes again before he looked back at me. He had an apologetic look on his face and I sniffed, snot threatening to come out of my nose due to the extensive crying I had done tonight. Mingi’s hands cupped my face again and he gently wiped the fresh tears off, pressing kisses against my cheeks before he pressed a soft one against my lips, my eyes falling shut at the plushness of his warm and soft lips.
“I’m sorry about that,” Mingi sighed, sounding ashamed and disappointed, “Yunho can be a huge idiot. He thought chasing you around was a way to get back at you, but I don’t find it funny at all.”
I gulped and nodded wordlessly, clearing my throat despite it feeling sore, “How did you know…about my trauma…”
Mingi hummed, sitting back and gently pulling me in his lap, my cheeks flushing as he sat naked, looking quite unbothered, as I forced myself to look at his face only, preferably in his warm brown eyes.
“Well, first of all, the bite mark.” Mingi explained, gently touching where my mark was, looking sad, “And well, you know, the whole hatred towards us and all that shit, it’s not hard to put two and two together.”
“I’m sorry.” I found myself whispering, feeling ashamed of myself all of a sudden.
“Hey, don’t be, it’s alright—”
“It’s not,” I cut him off, eyes hardening as I gulped, “I put you through so much just because I’m traumatized, and you have nothing to do with it. I’m a horrible creature.”
“I can’t imagine what you must’ve went through to feel so strongly against us,” Mingi’s fingers intertwined with mine as he rested our hands in my lap, “And I never blamed you for it one second. Of course, your bullying did get too much at times, but I always had my family to back me up and reassure me. I never had a problem with you bothering me as long as you left my family one.”
My cheeks turned pink as I looked to the side, biting my lower lip as Mingi chuckled. I blushed even harder when he leaned closer and kissed my cheek again, “I guess you always had a thing for me.”
“Shut up, Mingi,” I groaned, looking him in the eyes again, “This is so not the moment nor place to turn cocky on me.”
“I could turn into only one thing right now,” Mingi chuckled, eyes flashing an orchid-color, “But I think the cocky thing is something we could take care of faster—”
“Song Mingi!” I slapped his hard chest, glaring at him for saying such things while I sat in his naked lap. Mingi cackled, biting his lower lip once he was done, watching me amused as I tried to get off his lap, but he didn’t let me.
“Glad to see you calm and comfortable again,” Mingi mused, grinning as he ruffled my hair, making it even worse than it already was from all the running, “but I must ask, why the hell were you even outside on a full moon, Y/N?”
“Because of your stupid sister—” I cleared my throat quickly, “I mean, sweet sister, Dahyun. She said she couldn’t feel your scent and was scared of the approaching storm. Plus that you tuck her in every night, so…”
Mingi sighed loudly, looking up at the dark sky. I looked around us, realizing that the sky was rumbling, the lightning just above our heads. I was too distracted to realize that the storm was minutes away from starting.
“That silly girl,” Mingi muttered, chuckling as he gently pushed me off himself, “I hate to tell you, but she was only pranking you, a plan probably elaborated with Yunho—”
“What?!” I exclaimed as I scurried off to my feet, gaping at Mingi as he chuckled, rubbing his nape.
“Yeah, well, uh…you know, she hasn’t let me inside her room since she was in fourth grade, which was like…four years ago.” Mingi pursed his lips, also standing, the view quite a sight as I quickly plastered my gaze on his face only, “She didn’t lie about the storm though as she usually comes to me for comfort. She must’ve gotten scared and went looking for me, having a pretext to send you outside.”
“Why couldn’t she feel your scent, then?” I asked as Mingi suddenly swept me off of my feet, making me yelp as I clung onto him as he held me bridal style.
“I don’t know,” Mingi shrugged, looking nonchalant, “My scent comes and goes sometimes when I shift.”
“Oh,” I muttered, giving Mingi a questioning gaze as he started walking through the forest, headed back to the shed, “What are you doing?”
“Taking you back to the dorms.” He said with a smile, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “You certainly must’ve grown thirsty after seeing me in all of my naked glory.”
“Mingi.” I blanched, giving him a deadpan look, “You better put me down right now.”
“Hmm, let me think about it,” He pursed his lips mockingly, looking up towards the sky, “No.”
“Mingi—”
“I’ll put you down once we’re in my room.” He winked, and something coiled in my stomach as I gulped.
“Your room?” I mused, looking at him with wide eyes.
“Of course, don’t think I’m leaving you alone tonight, what if the big, scary, black wolf comes back to eat you?” He cackled and I smacked his chest hard, making him groan in pain.
“You’re making me think you were in on the plan too.” I hissed, glaring at his perfect jawline. Mingi chuckled and just shook his head, giving me a pointed stare.
“Tormenting my mate isn’t top of my list, you know?”
“We’re not mates.” I muttered.
“Yet.” Mingi grinned.
“Ever.” I hissed and Mingi licked his lips before biting his bottom lip, his heart thumping just a little bit faster as I could feel his giddiness radiate off of him.
“Do you know you drank my blood when we slept together—”
“What?!” I snapped mortified, almost jumping out of his arms, “I did not!”
“Uh, yes, you did.” Mingi chuckled, wriggling his head at me funnily, “I found two little punctures at the base of my neck.”
I felt mortified hearing that, face turning completely red and muscles tensing. It wasn’t forbidden to feed off of other night creatures, it’s just that it was a very intimate action, usually only practiced between vampire lovers.
“You know, it’s funny,” Mingi’s eyes were glinting as he looked down at me, “It’s where my scent gland is, the spot where werewolves mark each other when mating—”
“Mingi, please, stop.” I pressed a hand against his mouth, completely and utterly embarrassed. But he licked my palm, making me yelp as I ripped my hand away from his mouth.
“I think you triggered my imprinting, isn’t that the funniest thing ever?”
“Oh, my fucking God,” I wailed, squeezing my eyes shut in mortification, “Kill me right now, Mingi.”
“Can’t do that, doll, not when you’re the love of my life.” Mingi chuckled, nearing the edge of the forest finally.
“Stop spewing non-sense,” Yet I felt my heart beat just a little faster, cheeks heating up hearing his words, “I thought we agreed to talk about this whole thing tomorrow.”
“True,” Mingi hummed, smiling contently, “So, how’s your memory?”
“Why?” I raised an eyebrow in suspicion as Mingi smirked, looking ahead.
“Mine’s a little foggy, that’s why.” He said nonchalantly, making me gulp as I had a hunch what he was talking about.
“Well, so is mine.” I said in a small voice, Mingi’s attractive face turned downwards as his sharp eyes bore into mine, plump lips pulled into the most attractive smirk I had ever seen.
“Good, I think it’s time we give it a refresh, then,” He whispered seductively, leaning just a little closer, “You know, make sure we don’t forget this time, not even the littlest details.”
My mouth went dry and I felt my stomach coil at his suggestion, and all I could do was nod at him speechless, licking my lips as a warm feeling washed over me, going straight to my core. Mingi’s eyes were glinting and he chuckled, kicking the shed’s door open as he walked us inside.
I don’t think there was a single thing I would’ve been able to forget about Song Mingi, even after having lived for an eternity.
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≡  Masterlist ≡ 
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acourtofwhatthefuck · 7 months
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Practice On Me — Part Six — Azriel x Reader
Note — Tumblr still isn’t allowing me to tag some of you. I’ll keep trying but if you haven’t already, make sure you check in settings that your username is able to be searched/tagged! Mwah 💕
Summary: Reader seeks comfort after the events in Fenlaros. Lines are crossed that can’t be uncrossed. Actions come with consequences.
Word Count: 6.9k
Warnings: Some violence. Things get fiiiilthy. 18+, NSFW, smut, minors dni.
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It’s not clear who punches who first, because fists are flying left and right. The male in front of you lands a harsh hit on your cheek, the metal of a ring catching your skin, but there’s no chance to register the burst of pain, because you’re being shoved, and you’re shoving back, and your knuckles are pummelling into another male’s face while his friend sends a punch straight into your gut.
It’s that impact that winds you too much to move. You’re doubling over, trying to draw breath while the fight continues around you. The same male goes to hit you a second time.
But he doesn’t have a chance as Rhys comes lunging at him and knocks him to the floor. Your friend is as flawless with his fists as he is with steel. The Fenlaros male doesn’t stand a chance against him.
This is…this is bad. If you can somehow round your friends up and get out of there before it gets any worse, you may be able to escape the repercussions. A fight like this between two camps could carry a punishment anywhere from revoked privileges to an outright flogging. You’d really rather not face a disgruntled Lord of Windhaven upon your return.
Through the brawl, you’re searching for both Azriel and Cassian. You’ve lost sight of them both completely. And you know they can hold their own, that they’re some of the best fighters in all of Illyria, but the four of you are vastly outnumbered. Even the trio of your closest friends have limits, and being dogpiled by a group of males out for blood surely brings them close to theirs.
Someone grabs the back of your shirt, and with your breath having returned to you somewhat, you round on them, ready to defend yourself once more. However, it’s Cassian who looms over you, hair tousled and shirt wrinkled.
He yells at you over the noise, “This is getting out of hand! We need to get out of here!”
Thank gods he’s choosing to be sensible for once. You suppose even Cass knows when a fight is worth having.
“I’m trying to find Az!” You shout back. “I don’t know where he—”
“Kaeda already pulled him out. Let’s grab Rhys and go!”
Now is a really, really inappropriate time to feel jealous.
And yet jealous, you are.
And maybe even a little hurt, too. Did Az even try to find you before making an exit with Kaeda?
You banish the thoughts, allowing Cassian to wrench you through the people and mostly avoid getting hurt, besides the odd wayward fist that isn’t intended for you. The second he spots Rhys, still fighting with the male who winded you, he’s grabbing him firmly by the collar of his shirt and leaving no room for protest.
“We’re getting out of here before this turns really bloody.” He tells him loudly.
Rhys doesn’t put up a fight. He nods, straight on board with the exit strategy. His wild, alert gaze swivels to study you. “You’re alright?”
“Fine.” You nod. “Let’s go.”
It turns out the exit strategy is to just shove through hordes of people until you find a way out. Rhys is keeping hold of Cassian and you’re keeping hold of Rhys, and the three of you create an aggressive little train that wends through the chaos until cold air washes over you, and you’re spilling out onto the front path. You can hear the distant whoosh and thwack of the Fenlaros lot having no choice but to turn on each other.
“Y/N!”
You turn, just in time to see Az pushing away from a wall, Kaeda in tow. She carries a bloodied dish rag that she was clearly using to dab at his bust lip, but she falls back as Az strides over to you.
“I was looking for you everywhere.” He grabs your chin in his hand, turning your head to the side. “Your cheek is cut.”
You stare back at him, waiting for him to say something — something that even vaguely resembles an explanation as to why he started all of this.
“We should really get out of here—”
“Does it hurt?” He interrupts Rhysand’s interjection, his touch gentle despite the ferocity in his gaze. His thumb brushes over your cheek.
You’re too pissed off to care about his concern.
“I’ll live.” You snap, shoving him away from you. “Azriel, what the fuck?”
“My sentiments entirely.” Cass mumbles.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You continue. “You were the one who said coming here was nothing to be worried about, and then you start that? Have you totally lost your mind?”
“My sentiments entirely.” Rhys echoes.
A muscle in Azriel’s jaw ticks. He takes a step back, swallowing hard. “Sorry for being protective—”
“Possessive, more like—”
“It’s my fault.”
Both your heads snap round as Kaeda steps closer. She stares between you, wide-eyed. Doe-eyed. Looking like she stole the last slice of cake and has a litany of evidence stacked against her.
“He was being protective over me.” She says, and you freeze. She angles herself towards Azriel. “I shouldn’t have mentioned that Thedis and I have history. I don’t know why I did. I’m sorry, I—I didn’t think you’d react like that.”
Oh.
Oh.
That’s—that’s not what you thought was happening.
Clearly, you and Kaeda have two very different understandings of what went down.
You study Az closely, waiting for his reaction — to see if Kaeda is right, and it wasn’t you he was starting a fight over at all.
He stares at her like she’s spoken in a foreign tongue. He opens his mouth.
“Shit.” Kaeda swears suddenly, looking past him. “Shit, that’s my father.”
Each of you swivels around to see the colossal male striding down the path towards you, two slightly — very slightly — smaller males flanking either side of him. His long hair falls about his head in unruly waves, and there’s something ruggedly handsome about his face that kind of makes you want him to smother you with his ridiculously huge bicep. Everything about him is dark. His eyes and his beard and the whorls of Illyrian tattoos that cover the expanse of his neck.
This…this is a male who could snuff out a family of six just by looking in their direction. And his gaze zeroes in entirely on Azriel.
Cassian yanks you closer by the back of your shirt. “Let’s go—”
“He’s going to want to speak with you.” Kaeda turns to Azriel. “You’re the only shadowsinger around here. He knows who you are. He’s intrigued by your power.”
Az continues to watch his approach. And then he squares his shoulders. “Fine.” He doesn’t even glance your way as he says, “I’ll see the rest of you back in Windhaven.”
You don’t like this. Not one bit. Who knows what the male might do to Azriel? You want to say something, to protest—
But Kaeda links her arm through his, and you know there’s no point. This isn’t your fight.
“Don’t get yourself into even deeper shit.” Cassian says, lifting you into his arms.
Kaeda doesn’t seem worried. She rolls her eyes at that. “He’s not going to hurt him.”
You can’t help staring at her. She seems so sure, so unbothered. Not just by what her father might have in store, but by the entire situation. She seems almost…smug.
Az did start an entire fucking brawl over her, after all.
You can’t meet his gaze as you cling to Cassian. Too much has happened in a short space of time. It makes you feel…full. Uncomfortable. You need some space from Az to process what exactly just occurred.
And it seems like your wish will be granted. It’s clear, as he steps closer, that Kaeda’s father has no interest in the rest of you. His cat-like eyes follow a shadow that coils around your friend, and you could swear his lips want to smirk. Like there’s some inside joke the rest of you aren’t privy to.
“Go.” Azriel says, and neither Rhys nor Cass need telling twice. They don’t seem particularly concerned.
Your gaze snags on Az just as Cassian’s arms tighten around you, and he shoots into the skies with an unpleasantly steep climb. Rhys does the same.
And as Kaeda and Azriel become smaller the higher you go, you’re just able to glimpse Kaeda’s father stopping before him and shaking his hand. It’s then that you look away.
This isn’t for you to worry about. It’s—
It’s between him and Kaeda.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
The thing about flying — or, in your case, being flown — is that it’s invaluable for moments of pensiveness. There’s no better time to face your thoughts than when the clarity of the sky stretches all around you.
But that can also be really fucking dangerous. Because you think. And then you think some more. And then suddenly, you’re thinking about anything and everything all at once, thinking about ifs, buts, maybes, thinking yourself into a bad mood.
And that is precisely what you do.
You are pissed the fuck off.
So pissed off, you want to scream into the void, at the shifting landscape below. You’re pissed off with Azriel, with his actions, with your entire situation.
He has never been as stupid, as reckless, as he has been recently. Never did you think you’d see a day where Cassian was the more sensible of the two. You’re used to Az being the mediator, to always approaching situations with a rational mind.
And yet these days, he’s a ticking time bomb. You don’t know who he might have a problem with, and clearly you don’t know why, given that you so wrongly assumed his protectiveness — possessiveness — flared up over you.
Of course it was Kaeda. How stupid you are.
Lust is one hell of a blinding light.
Every few seconds, you tell yourself you’re not going to think about it. And then a few seconds after that, you’re straight back to that constant screech of AZRIELANDKAEDAAZRIELANDKAEDAAZRIELANDKAEDA.
If this is who he’s becoming because of her…you’re not sure that’s a good thing.
By the time Cassian is setting you down in front of the cottage, your mood is absolutely foul. You feel sobered by the situation. You may as well have not had a drop of alcohol at all.
Rhys doesn’t stick around. He tells you and Cass that he’s going to Velaris — he wants to explain what happened in Fenlaros to his father before the High Lord can hear it from anyone else. And so it’s just you and Cassian traipsing into the cottage, freezing cold and fed up that the night went how it did. Your stomach is starting to ache where the male punched you, the cut on your cheek starting to sting.
You head straight for the kitchen and begin turfing through the cabinets, looking for a half-empty bottle of whiskey or a snack or something. You slam each cabinet door closed, but it does nothing to alleviate your irritation.
Cassian lights a fire, his eyes watching you closely. Perhaps he can sense that something is brewing in your veins. And he’d be right about that — you’re just not sure what it is.
Finally, you sit up on the kitchen counter and settle on biting into a stale bread roll. It’s dry and tasteless, but it occupies your mouth and stops a scream from escaping.
“I want to clean that cut on your cheek.” Cass strides over to the kitchen, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”
Only in your heart. “No.” You lie.
He nods, and just like the other night, he begins gathering medical supplies. He’s getting good at this. You kind of want to tell him not to bother, to just let the cut sting, but you’re brooding too much to get the words out.
You swallow down your last, dry bite of bread, and you comment, “I knew going to Fenlaros was a fucking terrible idea.”
Cassian chuckles. There isn’t much that fazes him. “In hindsight, I don’t know what we were thinking.”
“With your cocks, probably.”
He quirks an eyebrow at you, and then his hands are on your knees, parting your legs so he can slot himself in between. You don’t protest; he’ll only start a mother hen routine and threaten to bring you to a healer instead.
He wets a rag and begins to gently dab the gash on your cheek. It hurts, but not enough. Not bad enough to drown out the thoughts of the night’s events. You go through them from start to finish, and you have to suck in a deep breath just to stop yourself from punching something.
Why had Kaeda suggested such a stupid fucking thing?
And okay, you can’t put the blame entirely on her; it’s mostly your jealousy that stokes your anger. You, Azriel, Cassian and Rhys are all fully autonomous adults. Any of you could have shot the idea down and refused to go.
But it just…it just sits funny with you, weird in your chest. Something about it feels…gross.
Again — probably your jealousy talking.
But the entire thing had been a shit show from start to finish. You should have known, from the self-loathing thoughts that were pelting you on the way there, that you should never have gone. And your failure to listen to your gut only worsens your mood.
“You push that brain to think any harder and it’ll explode.” Cassian murmurs, his warm breath fanning your face. “You can share, if you like. I may even be able to dredge up some wisdom to impart.”
You bite down on your lower lip. “Why would Kaeda’s father want to speak with Az?”
It surprises you that the question makes him smile. “I wouldn’t worry over that.” He says. “I imagine he’s more interested in speaking to Az because he’s fucking his daughter than because he came to a rival camp.”
You almost flinch at the words.
Of course, you know that by now, Azriel and Kaeda have probably taken that leap and slept together. But torturing yourself with your thoughts is different to hearing it said aloud, and by someone so close to Az, too.
It hurts. And you want to scratch away at the feeling. It might just be what tips you over.
Cass studies you for a moment, reading the change, the tightening, in your expression. He knows there’s something — but thank the gods he doesn’t know what.
He turns his attention to your hand — your knuckles must have split when you threw a couple of good punches — and he begins to clean it gently.
“Here I am again, eh? Playing healer. I should get myself an apron.”
He’s trying to make you laugh, but you can barely force your lips to twitch upwards. He drinks in your pathetic attempt with a sympathy that you can’t stand. And, sensing that humour isn’t going to be enough tonight, he tries a different approach.
“Talk to me, Y/N.” He pleads softly, dabbing gently at your hand. “Please…”
You frown. You’re thinking and feeling too many things at once to make sense of them. Running through the entire night over and over. You’re not sure which of those feelings will rear its ugly head when you try to speak.
But you open your mouth, and the words just spill out.
“I really fucking hated myself tonight.”
Cassian pauses momentarily. And then he continues his treatment to your wounds. “Y/N, fights break out every other hour—”
“No. Not because of the fight. It wasn’t that.” You swallow a lump down. “It was the flying.”
“…the flying?”
“Being carried by Rhys while the rest of you flew so freely. Knowing I’ll never be able to do that. I’m Illyrian, and yet I’m always going to be confined to the ground. I hated myself—”
“Y/N—”
“I really fucking hated myself, Cass. And to be confronted by that fact every damn time I take my shirt off…to see the fucking hideous remains of my wings—”
Your words are cut short when Cassian’s huge hands grab your face and force you to look at him. It stings the cut on your cheek, but he doesn’t seem to notice as he stares at you fiercely.
“No. Cut that out right now.” A muscle in his jaw moves. You’re looking back at a lesser-spotted serious Cassian. “There is no part of you — not one part — that comes even close to being hideous, scars or no scars. You’re brilliant. Inside and out. You’re fucking beautiful, and I love you, and I won’t have you hating yourself. Particularly not at the hands of your piece of shit father.”
For a moment, you’re so stunned by the impassioned speech that you don’t know what to say. Thanking him wouldn’t be enough. And you think you might want to cry, but tonight, crying wouldn’t be enough, either. Nor would screaming. You just…want to feel something different. Something good.
Something worth feeling.
You stare back at Cassian, and your throat bobs.
And it might be against your better judgement, but you cover his hands with yours, and you haul your mouth to his.
You can’t exactly explain it, but he has a mouth as rugged as his general appearance, something rough and untamed and just…Cassian. It’s exactly what you need in that moment. You kiss him as if you’ve kissed him a thousand times before.
You feel the moment’s hesitation on his end. It’s rare that anything is able to knock him silent, but this most certainly does. After a pause, he rips his mouth away from yours, and he stares at you, wide-eyed and flushed, reading your face as if in search of an answer to an unspoken question.
But his internal battle isn’t a long one. He seems satisfied with whatever conclusion he comes to. And then he’s surging forward and kissing you back, hard.
What follows is not slow nor tentative.
You and Cassian love each other dearly, but there are no illusions that this is anything but needed pleasure. He’s not reciprocating because he’s spent hours daydreaming about this, or because you mean more to him than any other female.
Cassian would fuck a tree if a stirred branch waved in his general direction.
And that is absolutely fine. That is exactly what you need.
He wrenches your legs further apart and yanks you to the very edge of the counter, just so he can get closer, kiss you harder. His hand snakes up the nape of your neck and bunches in your hair, strands of it tangling around his fingers, and he tips your head back, his mouth scorching hot and hungry on yours.
This is not something you’ve ever thought about, because he is just Cassian. He’s the male who pisses you off by leaving weapons lying around under couch cushions, who sings loudly at the top of his voice first thing in the morning, who fights like fighting is going out of fashion. Since the first day you’d met him, when his eleven-year-old self had looked you up and down and challenged you to an arm wrestle, he’s always just been Cassian.
You’ve always needed him in some impulsive, temperamental way — someone who keeps you on your toes, even if you complain about it sometimes. But now, you need him in a different way.
You part your mouth from his, just long enough to rip your shirt off and chuck it vaguely over his shoulder. Cass watches as you unclasp the bandeau that covers your breasts, and that’s being thrown away, too, and now your top half is naked, and Cassian is growling. It’s not even that he hasn’t seen these parts of you before, but you’d think it was the first ever time, going by the way his eyes darken, and a thousand sinful thoughts flit over his face.
“Fuck.” His voice is deeper. Both of his hands cup your breasts, and he kisses you again. “I love these.”
You smile, and you lock your legs around his waist, and you both groan as you yank him as close as he can get, and you’re grinding the centre of you over the bulge in his breeches. That, alone, feels too good — the length of him pushing through the barrier of your clothing. It’s not enough. You need more. You need him inside you.
Cass seems to echo the sentiment as he growls and finally yanks you fully off the counter. “No screwing around.” He says through gritted teeth. “I need to fuck you.”
His hands are at your breeches, and he’s ripping them open, and you’re so wet between your legs that you have to rub your thighs together, desperate for some kind of friction. Cassian notices, of course, and one side of his mouth tips up into a smirk.
“Turn around.”
You do.
You’re happy to be commanded. You don’t want to be in charge, don’t want to teach.
You want to be taken, and you want to be taught.
His rough hands shove your breeches all the way down, and then he’s seeing to his, ripping at the buttons and stays just enough to pull the hard length of him out. You turn your head to drink in the sight, but he doesn’t allow it.
He slams your front against that counter, and then he’s at your back, the head of his cock brushing against you as he murmurs into your ear, “How do you want it?”
You think your mouth might be watering. “Hard.”
“Hard?”
“Hard.”
“Brace yourself, then, sweetpea.” He grabs your hands, plants them firmly on the counter, calluses biting into your skin. His teeth graze the shell of your ear as he asks, “Are you ready for me?”
You couldn’t be more ready if you tried. You moan, pushing your ass back against him. His chuckle is felt through every inch of you.
He moves one hand down, drags it down your body, slots it between your legs. Your hips give a little jerk as he mops up some of your wetness with his fingers.
“Oh, yeah, you’re ready for me.” There’s a smirk in his voice. His fingers land on your clit, and he nips your ear again. “Good girl.”
You open your mouth — to say something, or to beg, you’re not sure. But there’s no chance.
The head of Cassian’s cock is guided to your entrance. You gasp at the mere feeling of it bumping against you, teasing the opening.
And then he fucking thrusts all the way in, hard enough that you slam once again against the counter. Medical supplies go flying onto the floor.
And gods, it feels too good.
There’s a tiny bite of pain, yes, but it’s pleasurable — more a feeling of fullness. He’s pushed all the way in to the hilt, and the guttural noise that leaves him might just be enough to make you come. It’s animalistic, the way he groans, almost a snarl.
“Hard?” He repeats, withdrawing slightly.
You gasp, your head tipping back. “Hard.”
“Thank the Mother.”
You yelp as his hand suddenly smacks against your ass cheek, and then he’s spreading you open and thrusting in again.
He is not gentle.
He is not soft or tentative or even kind.
This is how Cassian — the much-feared Illyrian — fucks.
And you like it, want it, need it. You push back against him to remind him he doesn’t need to be gentle. Forget about the fact that you’ve always known each other, that you have a fondness for each other.
Fuck me, you communicate silently. Ruin me, and make me forget who I am.
He growls, as if those very thoughts reached him mind-to-mind. And fuck you, he does.
You’re slammed again and again against the counter, hard enough to bruise and leave marks. His balls slap against your skin as he damn near rams into you at an unstoppable force. He’s grunting and snarling and panting. His hands suddenly clasp both of your arms, and he pulls them behind your back, holding onto them and thrusting faster.
“Fucking knew,” he growls, “that your cunt would feel like this. That you’d squeeze my cock like this.”
He slows just slightly — just enough to roll his hips and make sure you feel every single inch of him stroking the inside of you. The shout that leaves you doesn’t even sound like you.
“You like that, sweetpea?” He chuckles darkly. He pushes in to the hilt again, and you moan — a mistake that comes with a penalty. His hips still. “Give me your words, sweetheart. I want to know how much you need my cock.”
“Cassian.” You grit your teeth. “Fuck me.”
He withdraws. Slams into you again. And then the rhythm picks up, the pace fast and raw and unbeatable. Gripping onto your arms gives Cass the perfect leverage to take you exactly as you want him to take you, as he wants to take you. He can’t possibly go any faster, reach any deeper.
Heat coils in your lower belly. You meet every one of his thrusts by bucking against him, and it spurs your body on. You can feel something brilliant building beneath your skin and firing through your veins.
And when he lets go of one of your arms and dips his hand between your legs, his fingers immediately finding your clit, you’re not at all sure that you won’t just explode.
As you feel the head of his cock hit deep inside you, unable to go any further, as the pads of his fingers circle your clit, the noise that leaves you is unlike any other noise you’ve ever made. You’re vaguely aware of a sudden surge of wetness between your legs that drips down your thighs. Cassian made you squirt.
He half-laughs-half-groans, and his teeth nip your ear. “Sweetpea,” he bites out, “who knew you were such a filthy girl? Is this what I’ve been missing out on?”
You can’t speak — words fail you. You’re utterly incapable of doing anything but making your breathy little noises, your fractured moans, as Cassian pounds into you. His ministrations at your clit don’t even falter, even as he lets out a noise that hints at his own release being close.
“Come for me again.” Your wetness still drenches his hand, you know, but it’s not enough — he wants more. His finger presses down hard on your clit, and at the exact same moment, he lands a harsh kiss on your neck that turns into a suck. He slams into you so hard that you have to grip the counter to stop yourself being winded for the second time that night. And you erupt.
You hear the exact moment the walls of your cunt clamp around Cassian’s length. The noise he makes is one that you need to commit to memory, keep for a cold, lonely night when it’s just you and your hand. You’ve never heard anything like it. You never imagined he could make a sound like it.
“Oh, gods, yes,” He damn near whines. His hand is suddenly at your back, and he pushes you down, bends you over until your cheek is pressed to the countertop. He fastens that hand at your shoulder, the other at your hip, and then he’s on the homestretch. “Oh, fuck!”
He thrusts, and he thrusts, and he thrusts — and then he goes still, his cock exploding inside you.
He grunts through every spurt, his fingers biting into your skin. You’re not sure you can move as your cunt continues to contract around him, draining him of every last drop. The counter and Cassian’s hands are the only things holding you up. If he steps away now, your legs may just buckle and drag you to the floor.
So in contrast to the wicked noises you were both just making, near-silence sweeps in, broken only by you both gasping for breath. You close your eyes, your brow furrowing. Press your forehead against the surface you’re currently slumped over. You can’t remember how to…how to exist outside of pleasure.
You are well and truly fucked out.
You’re almost content to just stay there, gripping onto the counter for dear life. But then Cassian finally slides out of you, pulling his seed with him. It drips down your legs, into your underwear. A shudder leaves you.
“Shit, that was—” Cass breathes a laugh. “Gods. Why have we never done that before?”
You manage your own weak, sated chuckle, and finally try to stand up straight. “Because friends aren’t supposed to fuck friends senseless.”
“No,” he agrees. Pauses. “But, like…it doesn’t have to make things awkward, does it? We’re both adults. Capable of sharing pleasure and…and carrying on as normal…”
Oh, bless his heart.
Non-committal Cass is now worried that a casual rearranging of your organs might turn into you falling in love.
“It’s not going to be awkward, Cass.” You snort softly. “I’m just not sure I can move.”
He stares at you. And you stare at him.
The laughter hits you both at the same time. It’s laughter of both relief and release. An acknowledgement that you both feel a darn sight better now than you did when you first walked in. The night isn’t weighing on you so heavily, now.
Is that bad? Perhaps.
But you can fuck people, too. Why…why should you regret it?
“Here.” Tucking himself back into his breeches, Cassian yanks his shirt off, handing it to you. “You can use this to clean yourself up. I’ll run you a bath.”
He turns, but you’re stopping him with a hand on his arm. “I don’t want special treatment just because we fucked. Just…be normal.”
One eyebrow quirks up. “I planned to run you a bath after I cleaned your cheek. We just got a bit…sidetracked. I’m looking after you, Y/N — as your friend.”
You study his face. He’s open, sincere — not pitying. Good.
“Okay.” You tug your hand away. “Thank you.”
He dips his chin, and then he’s strolling away again. He stops at the bottom of the stairs, turning back to look at you.
“I love you.” He says. “Just…don’t ever doubt that.”
You’re not sure you ever could. He’s one of the few constants in your life.
You nod, suddenly not sure you can make eye contact. “I know. I love you, too.”
He, too, nods. And then he disappears, and you’re listening to his boots thudding against each step of the stairs.
You wipe yourself down, tug your breeches up. Slump back against the counter. Drag a hand over your face.
You kind of just want to sleep, be unconscious, before the weighty thoughts begin to shove their way in again.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
The summons comes early the next morning, before the sun has even arisen.
One of Lord Devlon’s cronies comes to pluck you and Cassian from the cottage, lead you to the Camp Lord’s study. Azriel is already there when you arrive.
You meet his gaze as you sit down, trying to look for some clue as to what might have occurred in Fenlaros after you’d left. All he seems interested in is checking you over, surveying you for what injuries you have as a result of the night before.
You’re not all too sure if your stomach is tender because of the punch you received to your gut, or because of how thoroughly Cassian fucked you against the kitchen counter.
 Probably best not to linger on that thought for too long.
You’re sandwiched between your two friends, waiting for Lord Devlon to actually grace you with his presence. Where Rhysand is, you can only imagine — probably dealing with his father’s wrath.
You glance down at a slight, sudden pressure you feel at your leg. Azriel presses his thigh into yours, and you lift your gaze to meet his.
“You’re not too hurt?” He speaks quietly.
You shake your head. “You?”
“I’m fine. All good, Cass?”
With his typical, swaggering nonchalance that will most certainly land him in deeper shit, Cass grins and stretches his arms above his head. “Just peachy.”
“Az.” You coax the shadowsinger’s gaze back to yours. “What happened with Kaeda’s father?”
Perhaps you’re being a tad dramatic, but you’d lain awake pretty much all night, brooding on the fact that you’d fucked Cass whilst Az was being subjected to the gods knew what. Your thoughts had snowballed into preparing you for Az to return beaten black and blue — or not return at all.
But he looks…fine. A little roughed up from the brawl, but otherwise fine.
He opens his mouth, leaning closer, and that’s when the door flies open.
The three of you stand up immediately. Tuck your hands behind your backs. Bow your heads.
Lord Devlon saunters into the room, kicking the door shut behind him. His footsteps are loud and purposed as he strides to his chair.
“Sit.” He says coldly.
You take your seats once more. The Lord’s eyes skate over the three of you for a pensive few moments, before settling entirely on you. It makes you uncomfortable.
“So.” He sits back. “Who wants to take a stab at why I’m not very happy this morning?”
The three of you keep your mouths clamped shut.
“I’ll give you a clue. It’s not so much to do with a piss-poor night’s sleep, as it is to do with the fact that three of my fucking soldiers,” his lip curls as he looks you up and down, “and their little plaything,snuck off to a rival camp and picked a fight.”
“She’s not our—”
“Did I give you permission to speak, Azriel?”
The ticking in Az’s jaw is slight, but it’s there, as he stares forward. “No, my lord.”
“Then keep your fucking mouth shut until I do.”
Your friend bows his head once more.
“Can any one of you explain why, exactly, you not only travelled to a rival camp without my orders, but why you then decided to stoke tensions between our two camps? Because, you know, that’s their territory. They were well within their rights to defend themselves and not one of them is being punished for it.”
None of you are sure whether he actually wants an answer. It’s best to just…keep your mouth shut.
“None of you have anything to say?” Devlon’s eyebrows flick up. “Fine. How about I offer you my theory? Because I’m seeing a running theme, here.”
You can feel his hard, intense stare bounce from Azriel, to you, to Cassian. Back and forth and back and forth.
But it always returns to you.
It might be in that moment that you realise there’s another layer to this, that you stupidly hadn’t considered. One that’s really going to get Devlon and his cronies grinding their teeth.
You’re female.
And it’s bad enough for males, his soldiers, to behave like this. But you? A mere, docile female? Someone who should be focused on housekeeping and finding someone to breed with?
A female stepping outside of her place is more or less considered a crime by Illyrians. And you don’t have a Camp Lord father to get you out of that very deep shit.
“It’s Y/N, isn’t it?” Lord Devlon addresses you. He knows your name. He’s a cat playing with a mouse.
You meet his gaze and nod. “Yes, my lord.”
“The blacksmith’s daughter.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Hm. The thing is, Y/N, I am here to raise armies. To oversee the training of their soldiers. As Camp Lord, that is my duty.”
You grit your teeth, bite your tongue. You hate the condescending tone that is so fucking typical of Illyrian males. It’s patronising. Offensive. He’s stating blatant facts and explaining them to you as though you are a child.
But you simply dip your chin in acknowledgment, because playing your part is the only way the three of you are getting out of here with a slap on the wrist.
“I cannot afford for my soldiers to be distracted from their training, or be seduced into making trouble for themselves.” The way he looks you up and down, in that moment, makes you feel oily. “I need my soldiers to be prepared. If war came tomorrow, do you honestly think I could send these two out onto a battlefield?”
These two. He says it with such dismissal, such contempt, that you find yourself balling your fists at your sides. He’s always singled your friends out, tried to break them. He may have to tolerate Rhysand — his father being the High Lord and all — but the tiny slither of acceptance he has for Rhys does not hold up for Azriel or Cassian. He sees them as useless. As nobodies. He’s waiting for them to lose their lives in training or combat so he can be rid of them for good.
It boils your blood.
Before you can stop yourself, your lip curls. “I think they’re two of the best soldiers in Illyria, and you’re damn well lucky to have them.”
Devlon sneers back at you. “I’m sure you would say that. If only to keep them in your bed.”
Beside you, the arms of Cassian’s chair creak as he squeezes them hard. “My Lord—”
“If either one of you speaks without my permission again, I will string you up by your balls. Understood?”
There’s a pause. And then both Cass and Az are sitting back in their seats. Offering quiet, affirmative responses.
“So.” Devlon focuses on you once more. Anger mottles his cheeks a reddish hue. “Considering every time these two land themselves in shit, you are at the centre of it, I see only one appropriate course of action. I will not have you leading them astray. Be it pointless fighting or the absolute colossal fuck up of last night, you are always the common denominator. That stops today. This instant.”
You stare at him. You’re not entirely sure what he’s getting at, but something lurches in your stomach. You swallow down a lump in your throat and grip hard onto your chair.
“As soldiers under my command,” Devlon’s eyes flit between Cassian and Azriel, “I forbid you — and Rhysand — from having any more involvement with her. You will not spend time with her. You will not speak to her in passing. You won’t even look at her. If I find out you do, you’ll regret it.”
All three of you shoot up in your seats, alarmed looks passing your faces. “You can’t do this.” You’re the first to spit.
“Oh?” Devlon cocks an eyebrow. “This is Camp Windhaven, is it not?”
“Yes, but—”
“I am Lord of Camp Windhaven, am I not?”
“Obviously—”
“Then I absolutely have the authority to give such orders, and thus, consider them given. Starting today, your involvement with my soldiers ends.”
“My Lord,” Azriel’s tone is pinched, panicked, “you don’t understand — she’s living with us right now. Her father kicked her out of his home. She has nowhere else to go.”
“Do you think I give a shit about her domestic situation, Shadowsinger?” The Lord snaps at him. “I’m here to oversee the training of Windhaven’s soldiers. Not to get involved in pointless family drama.”
“But where am I supposed to go?” You can’t help it — you slam your fist against the arm of your chair. “What am I supposed to do?”
“That isn’t my problem.” Devlon shrugs. He stands up, planting his hands on the desk between you. He leans over with a glower. “But you better run home with your tail between your legs and begin mending relations with your father, because if I detect that there’s even a hint of involvement with you and my soldiers, I will make you regret it, girl. Do not cross me.”
He tucks — no, slams — his chair under the table. It’s a dismissal. You’re not allowed to respond.
You’re silent, too stunned to think, speak, breathe, as Devlon strides to the door and rips it open.
“Get the fuck out, all three of you.” He orders, and you stand numbly from your chair. “You two,” he directs his attention to your friends, “I want your asses in the training ring immediately. Go.”
They don’t want to, you can tell. They hesitate, but ultimately, there’s no other choice. They have no authority. They’re mere soldiers in training. This is their career, their life’s work, on the line. They can’t meet your gaze as they file out of the door, and you don’t blame them.
“And you?” Devlon stops you as you try to follow, gripping onto your shoulder hard. He may as well pick you up by the scruff of your neck like a boisterous pup. “You’d better heed my warning, Y/N the blacksmith’s daughter.”
He shoves you out of the room. You throw your hands out before you slam into the wall.
“Stay. The fuck. Away.”
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lendeah · 4 months
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Bubbles and battle wounds
Prompt: Astarion comforts you after a bad day featuring a bathtub.
Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader
Words: 1.3k
Tags: fluff, hurt/comfort.
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The day had been brutal, filled with never-ending battles against a seemingly endless enemies. Karlach, Wyll, Gale and yourself had fought tirelessly, your bodies pushed to the brink of exhaustion and beyond. But even during such chaos, there was one failure that weighed heavily on your mind - the gnomes at the factory who died despite your best efforts. The guilt gnawed at you relentlessly as you stumbled back to the Elfsong Tabern, your body battered and bruised. You didn't even have the strength or will to say goodbye to the rest of your companions before heading to Astarion's bed. The elf lies stretched out on the bed, with his eyes glued to a book. Despite this, you know that he is still aware of your presence as he raises a brow.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here? Looks like someone's had quite the day," he says with a sly grin. "Do tell me all about it. Who did you fight? Did you put up a good fight?"
He slowly sits up on the bed, his gaze traveling up and down your body before finally resting on your face. His expression shifts from curiosity to concern as he takes in your appearance. Your legs tremble uncontrollably, a clear indication that something is seriously wrong.
“I-I need a bath,” you say, on the verge of tears.
He gets up from his bed and walks over to you, placing a hand on your arm to steady you with preoccupation etched on his face. "Of course, my dear. Let me help you," he says, his voice soothing and comforting.
You quietly make your way to the bathroom, and you feel like in a daze. Astarion's arm is securely wrapped around your waist as he supports your trembling body. Every step feels like a struggle, so you are grateful for his assistance. The room is small but cozy, with a large tub taking up most of the space. A faint smell of lavender fills the air, calming your nerves slightly.
Without a word, Astarion begins to run a bath for you, carefully adjusting the temperature to your liking. He then gestures for you to sit on the edge of the tub as he helps you out of your armor and clothes. He seems to be searching for any wounds on your body, but doesn't seem to find anything too serious. You feel vulnerable and exposed under his gaze, but also comforted by his familiar presence.
Once you are fully bare, you get into the bathtub, hugging your knees to your chest and sobbing slightly. He also undresses and gets in the tub behind you, having you between his legs. Your mind is filled with images of the battle you just fought, and the guilt and pain are overwhelming.
After a few seconds, you feel his hands on your back, gently massaging and washing away the dirt and grime from your skin. His touch is tender and soothing, making the tension in your body slowly melt away. You lean into his touch, grateful for his presence.
"Do you want to talk about it, my love?" he finally asks in a gentle voice, breaking the silence.
You shake your head, tears now falling freely down your face. "I couldn't save them," you say between sobs. "They trusted me and I couldn't save them."
He leans forward and wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling your body close to his chest. You feel his familiar cold and soft skin, slowly calming your racing heart. "It's not your fault," he whispers in your ear. "You did everything you could."
But you can't help but feel responsible. You had promised to protect them, and yet they fell in battle while you survived. It feels like a betrayal of their trust in you. You sigh, laying your head on your knees again. He starts massaging your hair and scalp and you feel the tension start to leave your body, as the water around you both turns brown with blood and grime.
"You don't always have to be strong for others," he whispers softly. "It's okay to let yourself grieve."
You nod slowly, letting out a shaky breath. The sobs come out in full force now, racking your body with each wave of pain and sadness. Astarion holds onto you tighter, whispering words of comfort as he lets you cry it out. Eventually, your tears run dry and you lay there spent and exhausted.
As Astarion continues massaging your scalp, he notices the water turning brown with grime and blood. He frowns slightly.
"Let me take care of this," he says softly before pouring some fresh water into the bathtub to replace the dirty water.
You watch him silently as he steps back in, and resumes carefully washing your hair, his touch gentle and soothing. The newly warm water and the smell of soap lull you into a state of relaxation, and you close your eyes.
"You have beautiful hair," he comments, running his fingers through the strands.
You open your eyes and turn to look at him, surprised by his words. "Thank you," you say softly.
When he is finished, he pulls you back toward his chest, embracing you. He nuzzles his nose against your cheek affectionately before pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. "Even with bruises and blood, you manage to be the most captivating sight I've ever beheld," he says sincerely.
Turning around in his embrace, your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as you hold on tightly, hugging him in response. Astarion's hands move from your hair to your back, caressing your skin gently. He leans in and presses a soft kiss against your shoulder, his lips lingering for a moment. "You truly are a wonder, my dear," he whispers, his voice filled with sincerity. "Even amid chaos and despair, your spirit remains unyielding. It's no wonder I am utterly infatuated with you."
His words wash over you like a balm, soothing the ache in your heart. With Astarion by your side, the weight of the world feels just a little lighter. Leaning against Astarion's chest, you let out a contented sigh. "Thank you," you whisper softly. "For being here."
His arms tighten around you, pulling you impossibly closer. "You don't have to carry it all alone," he murmurs against your ear. "Lean on me when you need to. I'll always be here to catch you."
A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips. You reach up and brush a strand of hair away from his face, your fingers lingering against his cheek. "You should lean into me too," you whisper, feeling a sense of hope blossoming within you.
He smiles softly before leaning closer and pressing his lips to yours. The kiss is gentle yet filled with unspoken emotions. You feel yourself melting into him, reveling in the warmth and safety he provides. Astarion brushes his fingers against your cheek before pulling away. "Let's get out of this grimy water," he says with a smirk, offering you a hand to help you stand up.
Astarion helps you out of the bathtub and wraps a soft towel around you before grabbing one for himself. You both dry off quickly and he leads you to the bed, where he hands you one of his clean shirts.
"Put this on," he says, handing it to you. "We can't have my dear hero looking like a ragamuffin."
You take the shirt from him with a smile, and slip it over your head, reveling in his lingering smell on the piece. Astarion watches you with a smile, clearly pleased with how you look in his clothes.
"Mmm, you're finally looking presentable," he purrs, raking his fingers through your damp hair. "Now, let's get some rest. We have a full day of scheming ahead of us."
You nod in agreement and climb onto the bed, snuggling into the soft blankets. Astarion joins you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close to him, as his fingers gently trace soothing circles on your back. As you drift off to sleep, you can't help but feel grateful for having Astarion by your side. Despite all the chaos and danger surrounding you both, he brings a sense of peace and comfort that you never knew was possible.
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daydreaming-nerd · 2 months
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Implode (Azriel X Female! Reader)
Summary: You were an anomaly. 300 years ago you fell from the sky, a star personified, taking the form of a High Fae. When Rhysand found you and realized your power you became a part of his inner circle. It wasn’t until years later that you realized that his spymaster was your mate. Still the question lingered in your mind leaving you never fully satisfied, “Why am I here?” Perhaps the losing battle with Hybern would answer that. 
A/N: Just thought I would take some time and get some Azriel on the masterlist! And hey look I wrote something where they don’t suck and fuck. But don’t get used to it, as a scorpio it ain’t really my style.
Warnings: Heavy angst, alludes to smut (you knew there was gonna be a lil somethin it’s Azriel for christ sake), blood, I wrote this in the middle of the night so probably grammar mistakes
Words count: 4646
(All pictures are from pinterest) 
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The war with Hybern was an ongoing one, and one that’s been hundreds of years in the making. So far the Night Court had yet to engage but I could feel Rhysand growing restless. Velaris was safe, but for how much longer? A few months ago he talked about taking the fight to Hybern, sooner rather than later, in order to try and protect his civilians. As his third in command I agreed with him.
I became Rhysand’s third in command several years ago after finally earning his trust. I wasn’t always part of his beloved inner circle, in fact when I fell from the sky I spent the first month on Prythian in the Hewn City dungeons. Rhys wanted to know why I had fallen into his court, but the truth was I didn’t know. The only memory I had was an image of the night sky, followed by falling, and then Azriel found me in the grass. Of course this wasn’t a good enough answer for the High Lord but after Rhysand finally realized that I was telling the truth about where I was from. We spent the next several years trying to figure out how it could be but found nothing. 
Nevertheless I grew to love Velaris and the place I now called home. I loved late night drinks with Mor, decorating the townhouse with Cassian for Solstice, talking politics with Rhysand, teasing the others with Amren, but most of all I loved Azriel. 
Even though Azriel was the one who found me, the bond didn’t snap into place right away. I had always had an affinity for the Illyrian, and even though I was once a non-sentient being, I knew that by all standards he was gorgeous. He seemed to have the same attraction to me as well, though we never acted on it. It wasn’t until a drunken night at Rita’s about 100 years after he found me that we realized we were mates. 
The inner circle had gotten together for dinner, and dinner had turned into a couple bottles of wine and a couple turned into way too many. Azriel and I had been throwing flirty glances back and forth all night, finally having the liquid courage to do so. I ended up being the first to leave that night and of course Azriel offered to fly me home…
“There is no way you’re walking home, not in those shoes,” Azriel laughed. 
“What’s the matter with my shoes?” I protest swigging the last sip of my wine. 
“You’re gonna bust your ass starchild,” Cassian said using my nickname he gave me years ago. 
“I most certainly am not!” I slur. I go to stand up from the booth to prove my point and nearly topple over causing the table to shift and Mor to spill some of her wine. The whole group erupted in laughter. 
“Come on y/n, I’ll fly you home,” Azriel chuckled, rising from the booth. 
I braced myself on his shoulder to slip the stilettos off my feet so I could hold them in my hands. The second my bare feet hit the ground I was reminded by how much larger he was than me, and in my wine drunk state my stomach bottomed out in arousal. I waved goodbye to everyone as Az led me out of the small club. 
“Tonight was fun,” I smiled drunkenly, my feet touching the cold wet cobblestones just outside Rita’s. I started to wobble a bit when Azriel grabbed me by my waist and hauled me up. All I could do was look into his golden eyes as I felt his hand spread across the bare skin there from my backless dress. 
I didn’t think twice before grabbing him by the collar and pulling him in for a kiss. The second I did it I realized what I had done, and I would’ve panicked if it had not been for the moan that fell from his lips as I pulled back. His other hand hit my waist pulling me closer to him making me stand on my tip toes. I felt my back hit the wall outside Rita’s as he deepened the kiss. 
“God I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he groans, grip tightening on my waist. 
“Then what’s keeping you from doing it again, Shadowsinger?” I smirk. 
“Not a damn thing,” he smiled, connecting our lips again. 
I was a mess of pure lust, because just like him, I had been dying to do this for years. Even dreaming about it on several occasions. But to have it happening was the most intense feeling I had ever known. My head was so clouded with need that I barely felt his mouth leave mine to kiss my neck. I tangled my hands in his hair pulling him closer and he reached his hands under my legs and picked me up so I wouldn’t have to strain to meet him. 
He kissed a spot on my neck that was particularly sensitive, coaxing a moan from my mouth that drove him so wild he bit me. That was the moment we felt it. That mating bond snapping into place. He whipped his head back to meet my eyes, looking to see if I had felt it too. 
“Oh my gods,” I breathed. 
“We’re mates,” he stated though his own ragged breaths. 
“Yes, mates,” I choked out, my brain still too cloudy to say anything as I searched his face for a sign of dread. Maybe he didn’t want to be mated, to me.
A smile broke his lips as he pressed his forehead to mine, “We’re mates,” he said again like he was trying to assure himself it was true. 
“We are,” I giggled, happy to see that he was okay with this, that he wanted it as much as I did. 
“You’re my mate,” he smiled, brushing stray hair from my face.
“Your mate,” I laughed joyously, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. I heard the door to Rita’s swing open. 
“I knew it!” Mor screamed drunkenly. “I knew they were secretly dating, Cassian, you owe me 50 gold!” 
“Not dating, mates.” Azriel barked proudly. 
“Ha! Mor you owe me 100 gold now!” Rhysand laughed at Mor. 
“That’s too bad Az I was hoping y/n could give me a ride later,” Cassian taunted earning a possessive growl from Azriel. The whole group laughed.
Needless to say Azriel flew me to the cabin in the Illyrian mountains that night and we didn’t leave for two weeks straight. 
…that was years ago and since then our family has had new additions like Rhysand’s mate Feyre and her sisters. One thing hadn’t changed though, me and Azriel’s mated bliss. 
I was waiting in the townhouse living room with the entire inner circle to talk about war plans. Well, most of the inner circle, Cassian and Azriel had taken a trip to inform the Illyrians that war was indeed coming and had been gone for a week. 
“Thanks again for the wine, Rhys!” I smile, holding up my glass and clinking it to Mor’s. 
“I don’t think you’re supposed to thank the person you stole the wine from,” he rolls his eyes. 
“Maybe not, but it makes me feel less guilty about it,” I laugh while taking another swig. I sit and observe Rhys watching Feyre’s every movement, feeling warm and fuzzy from seeing him so happy. 
Almost as if in response a shadow brushes down my cheek and I see Rhysand’s eyes flit up behind me with a smirk. I turn in my chair to find Azriel leaning in the doorway. 
“Az!” I yell, jumping up and thrusting my wine glass into Mor’s hand. He gives me a knowing smile as I jump into his arms. 
“I missed you too, my little star,” he smiled holding me close.
Cassian walked in just moments after and we joined the others in the living room. The second we were seated, and Rhysand stood to address us, it was like all the joy was sucked out of the room. We all knew how serious the topic was, and how even though we had spent many months avoiding it, it had finally come to call. 
“I’ve heard reports that Hybern’s army is gathering, and it’s bigger than we expected,” Rhys stated. 
“How much bigger?” Amren inquired. 
“We once believed his army to be 70,000 men, now we know that it's over 100,000.” he replied grimly. My heart sank at his words.
“Well what did Devlon say?” I ask Azriel. 
“He said that the Illyrians would fight, but if Hybern has an army of over 100,000 it’s still cutting it close.” Az replied. 
“How close are they to being fully assembled?” Cassian asks. 
A beat of silence passes and Rhys looks to Feyre, “By the end of this week they will be on Prythian soil, maybe next week if we are lucky.” he divulges. 
“What if we called upon Bryaxis? The Bone Carver? The Attor? They might come to our aid.”  Feyre pointed out and I didn’t miss the wince from Cassian at the mention of Bryaxis. 
“That could help,” Rhysand nodded. “But there’s no telling what they’ll do once the battle starts.” 
“But it’s worth a shot is it not?” Mor urged. 
“We can look into it,” Rhysand nodded once more. 
The rest of the night was filled with more talk of strategy and thinking of potential allies to call upon, but in the end Feyre’s suggestion was the best one. We all left the townhouse feeling more somber that night, something that rarely happened when we were all gathered together. Azriel flew us home and neither of us said anything.  I thought about what Rhys had said, and how we were resorting to calling upon monsters to come to our aid.  It wasn’t until after Azriel showered that he finally spoke up.
“You have no idea how good it feels to be home,” he groaned, flopping on the bed. I had slipped into one of my nightgowns and was sitting under the covers reading my book. 
“I’m glad you’re home,” I smiled, running a hand through his wet hair. He plucked my bookmark for where it was beside me and placed it in my open book. A habit that he picked up years ago when he grabbed my book from out of my hand in exchange for  a kiss and didn’t bookmark where I was. I had never been so furious with the man.
“Come here you,” he said, tossing my book to the side and pulling me into his chest. I giggled as he wrapped his arms around me, and breathed in. “You smell so good,” he practically  groans. 
“You mean I don’t smell like a sweaty Illyrian?” I chuckle, pressing a kiss to his bare chest. 
“Yes, precisely,” he laughs, looking down at me with love and adoration. “Have I ever told you that you get kind of glowy at night? Like you literally have a faint glow about you.” 
“Well I am a star,” I smile, pulling my hand out of the cocoon he has me in to let some starlight dance off my fingers. 
“How could I ever forget,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to my brow. 
A moment of silence passes and I can’t help but think about the war again, this time I don’t keep quiet about my fears. 
“What do you think we’re going to do about Hybern?” I whisper. 
 “I don’t know,” he admits. “All we can do is hope that our allies come.” 
“But even then, will it be enough?” I ask. 
“It might be, but there’s no telling.” he states honestly. 
“Could this really be the end of everything? Everything we’ve ever known will be ripped away from us. Velaris, our family, the two of us.” I confess. 
“Hey,” he coos, taking my face in his hands, “Don’t think like that. We’re going to figure this out. I won’t let anything hurt you.” 
“And who’s going to take care of you?” I ask, tears brimming my eyes. 
“Rhys and Cassian,” he says. I know he feels my fear too, that he’s trying to put on a brave face for his mate. But the fact of the matter is that this is war, and not everyone is coming home. Part of me wants to interrogate further, but I know no matter how many times I ask or rephrase the question, I’m going to get the same answer. Because at the end of the day, neither of us knows what is going to happen. 
So I just burrow my head into his chest and say, “Don’t you dare leave me Az.” 
"Never mate, never."
That night I dream of clashing swords and soaring Illyrians. I hear war cries and screams of agony. I see blood and mud and bodies skewed across a battlefield. I smell death and decay and burnt flesh. I feel dread and despair. But then there is a blinding light, and there is peace and I hear nothing at all.
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I wake the next morning from my dream and slip of out Azriel’s grasp, thankful that he was so tired from the trip from Windhaven that he doesn’t even stir. I get dressed and make my way to Rhysand’s town house. It had taken me all morning to realize what I had been shown in my dream, what it meant. I could only hope that my High Lord would understand it as I did. 
I reach his office door and hesitate to knock. I don’t know why, I’ve known the man for hundreds of years. Eventually I do. 
“Come in,” Rhysand beckons. 
I step in and immediately wish I had kept my mental shields up, I feel Rhys probe my  mind and catch a small glimpse of my thoughts. Before he can speak I cut in first. 
“We need to talk to Rhys,” I say curtly. 
“No y/n we aren’t having this conversation,” he dismisses me turning back to his papers.
“Rhys, I can end this war,” I argue. 
“I won’t let you, not in the way you are thinking right now,” he bristles.
“Rhys, listen to me! I can take out the king and half of his army before he even lands a blow on you guys!” I inform him. 
“How?” he stops and asks in a demeaning fashion. 
I take a deep breath and take a step closer to him. “What do stars do when they die Rhys?” I say slowly. 
A deafening silence fills the room, and I see his violet eyes fill with an understanding and realization. 
“They explode,” he states. 
“And they take Hybern and half of his army with them,” I reiterate, bracing my arms against his desk. 
“You would die though,” he states in a way that’s more like a question. 
“Yes I would die,” I confirm. 
“You would do that to Azriel?” he asks, not believing what I was saying. 
“No, but I would do it for him,” I say earnestly. 
“Absolutely not, I won’t let Azriel lose his mate.” he says and it sounds more like an order. 
I don’t flinch. I knew Rhysand would say this so I continue with my already prepared speech. “You’ll change your mind. When you realize you have more to lose than you originally thought. When you realize that your mate’s life hangs in the balance. That all you’ve gained lies in the balance. You’ll change your mind, and I’ll be ready when you do.” 
“So I’m supposed to sacrifice you to save myself? Sacrifice Azriel’s mate to save my own?” he argues.
“You’re not sacrificing me. I’m choosing this. Choosing to give Azriel a chance to live. A chance at life… My final gift, to him, to all of you.” I start. “My whole life, it has never made sense as to why I’m here. Why a star fell from the sky and just happened to find Azriel. But now it does, this was the reason.” I explain. 
There’s another silence in the room as Rhysand takes in all that I’ve said. My explanation for being here. Because I was right, it never did make sense that I would be a star personified. Yet here I was. 
“You shouldn’t have to do this,” he says sadly, seemingly accepting that this might be the only chance he has to save Prythian. 
“This is war Rhys, not a fairytale. Sacrifices must be made, for the greater good.” I say firmly. 
“How are we supposed to tell Azriel this plan?” he asks, running a hand through his hair, stress evident on his face. 
I know that everything I’ve told Rhys up until this point has angered and hurt him, but I have one last bandage to rip off, “We’re not going to tell him,” I deadpan. 
“Y/n you know-” 
“That he won’t let me do this?” I cut him off. “Yes I do. That’s why we can’t tell him. I’ve made my choice, telling him won’t change anything. But it will taint the time we have left together. Let us have this last little bit of time and then I will end this war so that you can have more.” I plead.
Rhys doesn’t say anything as he once again takes in my words. But I see the acceptance in his demeanor as he stands up and walks around his desk. He doesn’t speak, he just pulls me into his arms and hugs me. I throw my arms around him as a tear falls from my face. 
“You are the bravest person I’ve ever known. I can never repay you for your sacrifice, all I can do is promise you that you will forever be honored and remembered in this court,” he says and I can feel him crying. 
“But there is something you can do,” I say. 
“What? I’ll do anything.” he backs away to look me in the eye. 
“Don’t let my sacrifice go to waste. Make sure that Azriel lives when all this is said and done.” I beg him, a tear slipping from my eye. 
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The war comes quickly after that. or perhaps it just feels like it does because my life is suddenly on a timer. It isn't long until Hyberns forces gather on the shores of Prythian. We gather the Night Court's Army, the Illyrians and all the allies we can and march to meet them. 
The war camp is a mess of fires, blades and soldiers of every kind. I’m practically glued to Azriel’s side, not only because I’m trying to soak up every lasting moment with him, but because he said, and I quote, “I would rather die than leave my devastatingly beautiful mate alone in a campsite full of war bound men looking for one last lay before the battlefield.” 
The night before the battle Azriel made love to me in our tent, neither of us daring to say that it could be the last time we would ever get to lie with one another.  Only Rhysand and I knew about the plan. It was too risky to tell anyone else, and like I had explained to Rhys before, I didn't want Azriel and I’s last days together to be tainted with constant tears. If I was going to die, I wanted us to be us. 
That’s how we found ourselves here, at the front lines, our entire army behind us. Thankfully we were on top of a hill giving us somewhat of an upper hand. Bryaxis, The Bone Carver,  and The Attor had in fact come to our aid, giving them the upperhand to deal with those who went unaffected by my blast. As we looked out over Hybern’s army that was a little over 400 yards away I couldn’t help but to cower into Azriel’s side. I looked to see Feyre doing the same to Rhys behind us. He made eye contact with me, and as I heard Hybern’s army in the background I knew it was time. 
I stepped away from Azriel’s side and faced him. Took in every single curve of his face, and the way that his eyes caught the sun. I ran my hand down his cheek and he gave me a half smile. I prayed to whoever was listening, that I would remember his face. That wherever I went next I would have the ability to remember every moment I got to share with him in this world, and be grateful for what a gift it was. 
“Whatever happens out there today,” I start to say. “I want you to know that I love you. I know I’ve said it a million times, but I could’ve said it more, should have. And I want you to know that you were the greatest gift I’ve ever known, and that if this was all the time we had, I’m grateful for every moment of it. I was lucky enough to find you in this world, I promise to find you in every other one.” I tell him, a tear going down my face as I throw my arms around his neck. 
I can feel him smile into my shoulder as he says, “I love you too mate.”
I hold him tightly for the last time and open my eyes to find Rhys staring at me waiting for the signal. “Now,” I mouth to Rhys and he uses his magic to restrain Azriel. I slip one of Azriel’s daggers out his pocket, being sure to avoid Truth Teller, and I turn around and begin to walk down the hill towards Hybern’s Army. 
Rhys and I had spent plenty of time coming up with the plan. I had to arrive at the battlefield without weapons, just leathers. I had never used weapons before, having always relied solely on my magic. It would’ve raised suspicion if I had brought any. We made sure our army was far enough away that with the efforts of Rhysand’s wards and the distance, the blast wouldn’t impact our own forces. I walked down to the army alone, appearing as though I am coming as an emissary to speak to them, after all I was just a tiny female, what harm could I do? 
I walked with my chin held high, trying to appear as if I was a collected soldier coming to speak on behalf of my general. It was the hardest and longest walk of my life, as no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t drown out the screams of my mate behind me. 
“Y/N WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Azriel screamed, his voice already horse. “RHYS LET ME GO SHE’S GOING DOWN THERE ALL BY HERSELF!” 
I shudder at his words and try to keep a stiff upper lip as I get closer to Hybern’s army. 
“HE’S GOING TO KILL HER, LET ME GO!” Azriel growled, a voice so deadly it could only belong to a male who’s mate was in danger. 
As I get even closer I see the King of Hybern emerge from the army readying himself to receive my message. 
“CASSIAN COMMAND THE ARMY TO OPEN FIRE!” Azriel pleads and I can hear him struggling against Rhys’ power. 
“Cassian hold our position!” Rhysand bellows. 
“Rhys what the fuck?!” Cassain shouts.  
“THAT’S AN ORDER GENERAL!” Rhysand screams, sounding more like a High Lord than ever before. 
I approach Hybern, dagger hidden behind me, lodged in my belt. 
“PLEASE THAT’S MY MATE!” 
I stand before the army. 
“Have you come to surrender little one?” The King of Hybern croons, earring a laugh from his surrounding Generals and Captains. 
“No, I’ve come to end you,” I muse.
I take a deep breath and pull the dagger from behind me and plunge it through my heart. The last thing I hear is Azriel’s scream before blinding white light erupts from me, and then I don’t feel anything at all.
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Azriel:
The battle is easily won but at what cost? After y/n put that dagger through her heart more than half of Hybern’s army was wiped off the face of the earth. The battle was bloody but short and in the aftermath I found myself searching the field for my little star, my mate. 
“Y/N!” I scream for her, voice torn. 
I scan my surroundings looking for any glimpse of her, but I don’t see her, and I don’t feel her anymore either. She’s not gone, she’s not gone, she’s not gone, I keep telling myself. 
“Y/N!” I scream again as I continue to look. 
I keep flying until I see her. She has about a three foot blast radius around her where not even the grass is still growing, and her small form is lying there, unmoving. I slam into the ground and run toward her. 
“No, no, no, no!” I curse as I fall to my knees before her. She’s covered in blood and mud from being trampled. 
I take her into my arms and she’s so cold. So small and so cold. 
“Baby please wake up,” I cry, brushing her hair out of her face. “Come on, you said you wouldn’t leave me!” 
I sense Rhys and Cassian landing behind me and I can hear Feyre’s sobs. 
“Please, please, please baby I can’t live without you,” I press my forehead to hers. 
I cry and I beg for what feels like hours, but she doesn’t wake up. I reach inside me to tug at the bond, my last ditch effort to bring her back, but when I reach inside myself there’s nothing there.
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At first there was nothing, just Azriel’s scream echoing in my brain and then there was silence. But now flickering in the distance I saw him, saw my mate, and I knew then and there that this was the cauldron’s last gift to me. 
“Azriel,” I sang into the void like subspace.
“Y/n?” he asked, unsure of what was happening. He was wearing his pants he always wore to bed, which meant I was seeing him in his dream. 
“Yes it’s me Az,” I smile, tears brimming my eyes. 
“I’m just dreaming right?” he asks again. 
“No,” I laugh walking over to him, grabbing him by his forearms. “It’s really me. I’m here somehow.” 
“Oh my gods, I’ve missed you so much,” he breaks, voice cracking as he hugs me tight. 
“How long has it been since the battle?” I ask. 
“A little over a week,” he says standing back so he can look at me. “Why y/n? Why did you do it?” 
I nearly broke at his words, “This was always the plan Az, we just didn’t know it till now.” I explain. 
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“I think the universe knew that I was supposed to save you. That’s why I fell from the sky, that’s why you found me. Why the cauldron made us mates.” I tell him, tears falling from my eyes as my hand wipes away his. 
“Why didn’t you tell me though?” he cries. 
“Would you have let me sacrifice myself if I did?” I ask. “I wanted my last few days with you to be as normal as they could be.” 
Silent tears fall from his eyes, “But what do I do without you?” 
“You live Azriel,” I smile. “You were the greatest joy I ever knew Az. I did this so you could live, with Cassian and Rhys. I told you I would find you in every world, you still have things to do in your world, but I’ll find you in this one too when your time comes.” 
“How do I live without you?” 
“You never will, I am a star after all.”
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feralforfrank · 1 year
Text
EVERYTHING WILL BE JUST FINE.
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SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X FEM!READER
summary the aftermath of the mission that almost causes the loss of your life.
cw description of a panic attack (reader has one), canon codmw2 violence & mentions of it, feeeeeeelingssssss, hurt/comfort, atp mutual pining & idiots in love. NON-DESCRIPTIVE READER. TELL ME IF I MISSED ANYTHING!!!!
a/n some people asked for part two, sooooo!!! i delivered :)
masterlist | taglist
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When you opened your eyes, it was because of the horrid images that haunted your eyelids. You woke with a gasp and a ripple of pain spreading through your whole body. The room was dark and cold, but you felt the soft mattress underneath you begging to swallow your exhausted body. 
It all came to you slowly. The mission, the men trying to escape with your team's hidden car, you leaving your post and sneaking behind them, fighting them, and managing to get stabbed two times. The pain in your side was becoming more and more apparent now.
A flash of Ghost holding you in his arms makes you tense. He'd come to your rescue. Called you darling. Held you in his arms and reassured you that you'd be okay. You're fine. Nothing that can't be fixed. I can fix it.
Your heart fluttered, and your gaze blurred with tears. It wasn't right to have a crush on your superior, but you couldn't help yourself. Everything about Simon Riley fascinated you—from his continuous silences and intense glares to his very attractive build. You didn't need to see his face to know he was drop-dead gorgeous. The mask was one of the things that made Ghost even hotter. 
But it was wrong. Ghost's your lieutenant, your superior, and there was no way he'd ever feel the same way about you anyway. You doubt he could feel love sometimes. He cared for his team, that's for sure, but this line of work didn't allow deep and romantic sentiments. 
The jiggle of the door handle snapped you out of your thoughts. You jumped, causing your wounds to throb. A poorly contained whimper escaped your lips. Your heart sped up in fear, and your left hand tried to look for the knife strapped to your left thigh.
Fuck, it's not there. 
The silhouette slips in, and you swear your heart feels about to leap from your throat. A tear slides down your cheek as the man approaches your side. Shit, he's here to kill you. Finish you for what you did to his companions.
In your panicked haze and blurred gaze, you don't hear Simon calling your name. You see him set down a tray next to your head, and fuck—he's going to torture you first? Where the fuck is Ghost? Soap? Gaz? 
"K-Kyle?" You try, but your voice is hoarse and not as loud as intended.
Your gaze falls to the door, and you call Johnny's name. Then Simon's. You plead, but it's still not loud enough. More tears slide down your face, your ears ring, and your body shakes under the blanket.
"—ocus! Focus on me, Owl! You're safe here!" The man calls your name. "I'm not gonna hurt ya, darlin'."
Darlin'.
Darlin'. Darlin'!
Ghost.
And suddenly, the ringing in your ears subsides, and panic isn't bubbling hot in your blood. You feel his hands now, touching your bare shoulders—cold fingers touching scorching skin—shaking you to pull you out of your living nightmare.
"It's okay, lovie. S'alright. You're alright." He shushes you, sitting next to your feet.
"Help me up," you whisper.
Ghost reluctantly helps you sit up, gently touching your wrists. He towers over you to adjust the thin pillows on your back. Your gaze never leaves him. He's rid himself of the tactical vest, only wearing his tight-as-shit shirt, pants, and of course, his balaclava. Thank fuck, it's not the skull one. You melt at how he cares for you, despite you having fucked up the whole operation.
He grabs a bottle of water from the tray, and you have to remind yourself that it doesn't carry torture devices. The man in front of you is Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley, not the enemy. You gulp the water greedily like you've been walking in the desert under the scorching heat for hours.
"Want another one?" He asks. You shake your head.
There's a pause. The silence isn't tense but not comfortable. The nagging guilt—from both of you—holds you back from being truly open with each other. 
You should've never left your post. The team would've been able to escape without the car anyway. Your thoughts are never-ending.
Simon wants to punch himself. He shouldn't have had to carry you to the car. The guilt of letting you get hurt punctured a hole in his chest. 
A sniff brought him back. "I'm sorry."
He looks at you. Stares at you with those emotionless eyes, and you hate it. You hate that you can't guess what he's thinking. You'd fucked up that much is true.
"Fuck—" You hiccup and look away from him. "I didn't mean to. I panicked. I thought—I don't know what I thought. I'm sorry, Ghost, truly—"
"What're you sorry for?" His hard tone startles you.
You look at him, confused more than ever. "I fucked up the mission. Got hurt in the process too. We would've been in base by now had it not been for my fuck-up."
"You protected the team."
"No, I put my team and this mission in jeopardy."
"You took care of a threat, Sargeant." His tone was final. "You did your job. Greatly."
You inhale deeply, your eyes meeting Simon's. His gaze is like stone, but you can see the glint of pride he has for you.
"I was so scared." Fuck you for tearing up again. You felt weak.
You look down at your hands. The light slipping through the open door allows you to see the dark colour they have. Your blood—God, you hope it's yours—stains your palms and reaches up to your wrists.
"I told you I'd fix it," Simon says, and you melt at his words. "Fixed you up pretty good, all things considered." 
It makes you laugh. The timing isn't great, but the chuckle escapes before you can stop it.
"Thank you, Ghost. I owe you big time."
He shakes his head. "Don't mention it. I'm your Lt. I'm supposed to keep you safe and alive."
Lt. 
I'm your Lt.
It stings. You want him to call you darling and lovie again. You purse your lips and nod your head, feeling awkward thinking such thoughts with him present.
"Thank you." You pause, looking for something to ask Ghost—so he doesn't leave. You can't be alone right now. "Where are we?"
"Deep in the woods. They can't find us here."
Pursing your lips, you nod, feeling relieved. The silence returns, and Ghost exhales. "That's soup and meds for the pain. Not much, though. I don't want you passing out."
He stands to leave, and you jump, completely forgetting about the stitched wounds. "Where are you going?" Simon stills at the fear in your voice.
"Leaving?"
It comes out as a question—not what he'd intended. He was fighting the urge to show you how scared he'd been—and still is—after almost having you dead in his arms. The sentimental feelings toward you are growing stronger every second he spends with you, and it's dangerous. He has to stop permitting himself to feel. To hope that one day you'll feel the same for him. God, he feels like a teenager just thinking these thoughts.
But how can he not hope? When you look at him with wide, terrified eyes, swimming in unshed tears. When you're gripping the bowl of soup, he made carefully just for you, silently pleading with him to sit a tad bit longer.
He can see your lips tremble, but you hide it well by pursing them. The words are on your tongue, but you can't bring yourself to ask him to stay because fuck. How much more can you ask from this man? He saved you, patched you up, made you food, and now you wanted him to stay, purely out of fear. It's embarrassing to request this, especially in your line of work.
So, Simon decides to do it for you. "Unless you want me to stay?"
Your expression is shocked, but you eagerly nod before he can change his mind. You scooch to make room for his big frame on the small bed, and he actually manages to lay next to you, a hand draped on the bedframe to pull you closer.
You feel safe. Simon tends to make people feel this way. It's not only his large frame but how he carries himself and shows affection to the people he cares about. It doesn't matter if you talk or stay silent—he prefers silence—Ghost's presence is relaxing enough for you to eat your soup and drink your meds.
And when you finish, he grabs the bowl and places it next to him. When you start to drift off and snuggle closer to steal his warmth, he forces his tense shoulders to loosen and pulls you closer. He kisses the top of your head, and your hair tickles his cold nose even through his balaclava.
He knows his back will ache from the uncomfortable position he's sitting in, but he doesn't care because you're alive. Alive and safe. In his arms. And it's all that matters right now.
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