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fanwarriorfictions · 4 months ago

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Help Me, Help You - Part Sixteen

Fenrys x f!Reader

Summary- Fenrys and Y/n finally have the time to themselves with no interruptions

Warnings- smut(very little plot lol)

Series Masterlist

Part Sixteen

Home.

The word spins around in her head at a dizzying pace as she walks. As she gets closer and closer to their room, her brother’s words get louder in her mind, your home, and her heart seems to beat in time with the words. This room wasn’t her home, but neither was the cottage across the ocean, she didn’t know where home was anymore, but it seemed like her brother did, perhaps her heart did too.

Y/n and Vaughan had spent nearly half the night telling each other of their adventures, the ones they planned to take, and it felt like they’d gone back in time. When she would stay up for as long as she physically could to spend as much time with him as possible before he slipped away again. She’d nearly fallen over in her seat when Vaughan had insisted that she go back to bed, she only left when he swore he would still be there in the morning. Even as she walked away, she wasn’t quite convinced he would be.

The stone halls around her are dark, the riders of the clan already in their beds, the torches on the walls snuffed out. It is only due to her fae sight and this little tugging in her gut that she is able to find the door to the room at all. It was like her body knew exactly where Fenrys was, even when she could not see him.

Quietly, she slips through the door, expecting to find him snoring in the small bed and she’d have to force herself into what little space was left beside the massive male. She’d end up lying on top of him in her sleep, either by her traitor of a body moving on its own, or by the male tugging her onto his chest.

Instead, she finds Fenrys sitting up, leaning heavily against the wall behind the bed, and he’s squinting down at a book in the dim candle light. Her heart beats faster, in time with the words in her head, home, home, home.

“You’re still up?”

His gaze lifts to hers and she winces, how he was reading with one of his eyes nearly swollen shut she has no idea. Fenrys marks the page and sets the book down beside him, giving her a soft grin that pulls at the split in his lip. Y/n moves towards him, perching on the edge of the bed, reaching for him like its second nature. She cradles his face in her palms, her thumb stroking over the wounded lips that had kissed her so soundly earlier, had kissed other parts of her too. Y/n tries to push those memories to the side, ignoring the heat in her veins, but that is nearly impossible when his hands fall on her waist, a gentle pressure to keep her in place.

“I told you I’d wait for you,” he says, kissing the pad of her thumb.

“You didn’t have to,” she whispers, “It’s late.”

Fenrys shrugs, and she notices the wince he tries to hide at the motion, “This is nothing, kitten. I’ve gone days, nearly weeks without sleep before.”

“I’m sure you have,” Y/n says with a soft smile, “You’ll have to tell me all of your war stories.”

Fenrys grins and it pulls on his cut lip, “I’ll tell you whatever stories you’d like to hear.”

Her fingers trail over the edge of the bruise around his eye and the one on his jaw, her magic spooling in her chest, ready to be released. She holds it back, wrestling her magic into submission, the last time she’d used her powers on him had been an accident but it had taken to much from him against his will, she wouldn’t do that again.

“Can I?” She lightly grazes the cut on his temple, “I don’t want you to be in pain.”

There is a softness in his eyes, an understanding, as he nods once, “Do your worst, kitten.”

As if drawn in by an invisible force, she leans into him, gently kissing his temple, the cut slowly stitching together and disappearing entirely. When his eyes shut, a sigh of relief passing his lips, she trails her lips down, touching the bruised eye that shifts from black to yellow to his golden brown skin. And when he blinks up at her, seeing her clearly, his eyes are so full of emotion, and her heart is beating so rapidly, home, home, home, she kisses him, letting her magic seek and heal.

His arms are around her, pulling her into him until she is flush against his chest. She fights to keep her control, to not let his expert mouth distract her, to make her as mindless as she’d been their first kiss, when she had taken to much. She pulls back, panting, forcing her magic back down into the well it usually sat in, and when she sees that scar still intact on his brow, she sighs in relief.

Fenrys takes a deep breath, his brows no longer furrowed in pain, “You’re astonishing, kitten.”

Before she can even think to respond, his mouth is on hers again, and Fenrys shifts, twisting them so she is lying on the bed with him above her. Y/n wraps her arms around his neck, and Fenrys kisses her, slowly, lazily, taking his time to drive her absolutely wild. He is in no rush, taking all of her soft sighs and purrs, tucking them away for later. It’s almost torturous, the languid pace he sets, because all she wants is more, more of him, more of whatever this thing between them was, the aching need, the undeniable tug she could feel on her heart, as if there was this little string tied to it, and on the other side sat Fenrys and his own heart, beating in time with her own. Home, home, home.

He pulls back, just enough to whisper against her lips, “We should sleep.”

It’s the last thing she wants to do, and she knows he wants exactly what she does, the evidence of that is pressed against her thigh. She wants to wrap her legs around him and pull him closer to her, to feel him pressed against her core instead, to drive him as wild as he does her. But his massive form keeps her pinned, unable to move, to do anything but beg him to relieve some of the pressure between her thighs.

“Fenrys,” she pleads.

He kisses her again, keeping that same slow pace, before whispering, “You’re exhausted, you need to rest.”

“I need you,” she says, and she pulls him back to her lips, pouring the fire in her veins into him, “I need you more than I’ve needed anything.”

Her heart is hammering in her chest, home, home, home. Y/n can feel the word pounding against her ribs, fueling the fire in her veins, the need to drive this male over the edge of his control. She pulls his healed lip between her teeth, biting hard enough to draw a groan from deep in his chest. Her own chest tightens, and she arches into him, his hands slip beneath her back, pressing her closer and she knows she’s almost won.

“You need sleep.” He kisses her between each word, pulling back just enough to groan, “Let me be a gentleman for once in my life.”

“Fenrys,” she gasps into his mouth, and she shoves him over the edge, “Stop being so honorable and fuck me.”

And she’s won.

“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me, kitten.”

Fenrys feels the weak hold over his control break at her request and he realizes he would do anything she asked of him, no blood oath necessary. He would walk into the burning pit in the center of this fortress if she asked, he would burn and yield everything he was and is and he would die happily. He would do whatever she wanted and if she wanted him to fuck her, gods he would.

He pulls away from her and rips his shirt over his head, throwing the fabric across the room, not caring where it lands as her legs wrap around his hips, pulling their bodies flush together. Fenrys can’t hold back his groan as she rolls her hips upwards, giving his aching hard length much needed friction. He’s falling back into her, capturing her lips in a burning kiss that leaves them both panting.

His hands rip at the cloth hiding her body from him, she can yell at him for ruining the shirt later, right now he needs to see the perfect shape of her, feel her beneath his palms. When her chest is exposed to him, he wastes no time, the soft flesh of her breast fitting perfectly into his hands as if they were made solely to touch her, to please her.

Fenrys drags his mouth away from hers, letting her moans fill the air around them as he kisses down her throat, over her collar, and between the valley of her breasts. Y/n arches into him, her legs squeezing his hips like a vice, and he can feel the promising heat of her hiding beneath her leggings. He wants nothing more than to rip the cloth from her legs and sink into that heat, and from the whimpering pleas coming from her lips, he knows that is exactly what she wants.

“Fen- please,” she gasps, her head thrown back against the pillow, “Gods I need you.”

“I know,” Fenrys groans, “Lift your hips, kitten.”

She readily does as she’s told, freeing him from the constraints of her legs around his own hips to lift hers off of the bed, allowing Fenrys to slip his fingers beneath the band of her leggings and tug them off, underwear and all. And again, she is bare beneath him, looking nothing less than a full feast only for him to see and enjoy, to devour and worship. If he wasn’t already kneeling on the bed before her, he’d have fallen onto his knees at the sight of her, he’d have crawled for her and begged her to let him have her just like this, writhing beneath him full of need.

She sits forwards, reaching for him as she hooks her fingers into the laces of his leathers. Each brush of her fingers over the strained leather sends a shock of pain and pleasure over him, if she wraps those hands around him Fenrys may just die from it.

She struggles with the tight laces and growls lowly, “Off.”

Fenrys laughs, taking her wrist in his hands, “So impatient.”

He lifts her left wrist to his lips, kissing her racing pulse before pressing both of her palms to his chest. Her touch lights him on fire, and he takes that touch and guides it across his feverish skin, lower and lower. Her nails lightly drag across the tight muscles of his stomach and Fenrys groans at the slight hurt.

He let’s go of her, leaving her hands pressed to his skin as he easily works open the laces, sighing in relief as the pressure lessens.

“What do you need?” Fenrys asks, halting his movements even if it’s the last thing he wants to do, “Tell me what you need, kitten.”

Her pupils are blown impossibly wide, full of pure lust, “I need you, Fenrys, I need you inside me, now.”

That final word, a demand that he would not fight, could not fight. He’d survived severing the blood oath, but this? This bond between them, this incessant need to have her in every way he could, was so much stronger, would demand more than just his life if he tried to break it, not that he ever would.

Fenrys doesn’t take his time ripping off his leathers, and he nearly comes undone when she moans at the sight of him. He doesn’t have the chance to hesitate, to ask her one last time if this is what she truly wants, before Y/n has he legs wrapped around him, pulling him just like she had when they’d been clothed. Now, there was nothing between them, nothing between the wet heat of her and his aching cock.

“Fuck,” he groans, leaning over her to brace his arms on either side of her, “So ready for me aren’t you, kitten?”

“Yes,” she gasps, “Please Fen-“

She doesn’t have to beg, he cannot deny her, or himself. Fenrys shifts, using one hand to hold his weight while the other wraps around his cock to guide himself to her entrance. She’s so wet, so ready for him, that he barely has to shift his hips forward to sink into her. She wraps around him so perfectly, squeezing down on every inch of him as he slowly settles inside her. He has to grasp for whatever is left of his control to not slam his hips down, to let her adjust to the stretch, to not hurt her. He’s barely holding on by a thread with how fucking good she feels.

“Shit,” Y/n gasps, her head thrown back, her eyes screwed shut.

“Are you okay?” He says it through his teeth, taking deep breaths to steady himself, “Tell me if it hurts.”

Y/n shifts, experimentally rolling her hips, drawing a deep and desperate moan from his lips and a matching one from her own. Nothing had ever felt more perfect, felt this good, not in the one hundred and thirty years he’d been alive.

“Gods,” she gasps, rolling those perfect hips again, “Please, Fen, I need you to move.”

“Thank the fucking gods,” Fenrys groans and does exactly as she asks.

He pulls back, gently rocking back into her, still sane enough to keep his strength in check. Fenrys captures her lips, greedily taking all of the moans and whimpers that he draws from her with each roll of his hips. He also gives her his own desperate sounds, letting her have every single piece of him.

He’s content to go slow, to let her fully adjust, but when she lifts her hips to meet his next stroke, when she pulls away from his kiss to gasp, “Fuck me like you mean it.”

Any shred of chivalry leaves his body, as if there was really any to begin with.

Fenrys growls as he pulls back, simply to snap his hips forward, Y/n cries out with the motion and Fenrys loves the sound of it, so he does it again, and again, and again. She is lost in the pleasure, and so is he, chasing the feeling of her warmth around him with each rough drive of his hips. Her legs clench tightly around him and her hands claw his forearms, her whole body tensing in a way that tells Fenrys she is nearing that peak of pleasure and he wants nothing more than to send her over the edge of it.

He has to pull his arm from her intense grip, not breaking his rhythm as he brings his hand between them to draw his thumb in circles around her sensitive clit.

“Fenrys!”

He grins wildly, “Come for me.”

His demand is met by a mewling whimper and her body shaking with the damn of her orgasm breaking. Fenrys curses as she clenches around him, the feeling so intense that he feels his own release building to that devastating breaking point.

She’s gasping beneath him, her body still trembling with each wave of pleasure that rolls through her in time with his hips. Fenrys is half wild, more fae than anything in that moment, the sight of her beneath him, spent and nearly overstimulated has his hips driving faster, harder. His thumb presses into her again, she jolts and shakes with each pass over the bundle of nerves.

“Fuck,” she cries, “I can’t-“

“You can,” he groans, “One more, give me one more.”

He can already feel her muscles tensing again, the ones around his cock clenching almost painfully around him, bringing him closer and closer until he’s holding on by a thread. He needs her to come first, to fall with him, to feel the same intense emotion that is wrapping around his heart and pulling him down the cliffs edge into the terrifying realization that perhaps he’s already fallen.

Y/n cries out as her swift second orgasm tears through her, and Fenrys follows her, cursing as the intense pleasure rips him to shreds and remakes him all at once.

He rides out both of their pleasures, slowly bringing them down from that high until she stops shaking with it. She goes limp beneath him, her legs falling off his waist, to heavy for her to hold up anymore and Fenrys nearly collapses onto her, holding his weight off of her with the last bit of his strength. Her eyes are heavy with exhaustion, her hair a wild mess on the pillow around her, and she is so perfect, so devastatingly beautiful, he wants to have her like this for the rest of their lives.

Mine, his heart beats with the word, and he doesn’t want to hold it back anymore.

Fenrys leans into her, kissing her lips softly, relishing the way she sleepily kisses him back.

“Mine,” he says, claiming her with his mouth and his heart.

She moans against him, and pulls away to gasp, “Mine.”

Tag List

@emma-andrea1 @mgchaser @anxious-study @lees-chaotic-brain @girl-math-aint-mathing @mali22 @nikt-wazny-y @theworthlessqueen @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @lethargicluv @hannzoaks @batboygirlie @foxysouls @kiarathace @jesskidding3 @raginghellfire @answer-the-sirens

#I do not write full out smut scenes a lot so bear with me #throne of glass #throne of glass x reader #tog #tog x reader #fenrys tog #help me help you #fenrys moonbeam #fenrys x reader

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fanwarriorfictions · 4 months ago

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i looove ur series !! cant wait for part sixteeeen

Ahhh thank you!!! It’s nearly done, ngl I’ve struggled with this part because I’m getting into a sort of “detailed 😉 ” scene that is taking a little longer than usual

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fanwarriorfictions · 4 months ago

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The way I sat down to write and proceeded to scroll TikTok for three hours instead when my friend said it was back up 😭 I swear I don’t have a problem

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fanwarriorfictions · 5 months ago

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Working on part sixteen and I swear it’s like these two are forcing me to let them get it on

#help me help you

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fanwarriorfictions · 5 months ago

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Help Me, Help You - Part Fifteen

Fenrys x f!Reader

Summary- Y/n isn’t taking any of these males shit

Warnings- fighting, angst

Series Masterlist

Part Fifteen

Fenrys is ready to kill the male on the other side of the door.

First, he breaks Y/n’s heart and then he interrupts them right before Fenrys can fully ravish her. The only thing stopping him from throwing that door open and driving a sword through the male’s gut, is Y/n lying beneath him, covered only by the blanket he’d thrown over her. The overwhelming territorial instinct in him wants to keep her hidden, no one else would see her like this, a voice in his head screaming mine, mine, mine.

Y/n moves, as if to get up and go to the door in nothing but the sheet and Fenrys glares down at her, “Don’t you dare.”

He’s up before she can hiss at him, she’ll have to save all that hissing for later once Fenrys dealt with her prick of a brother. She can yell at him all she wants but he’ll have her moaning his name again in no time.

Not bothering with a shirt, Fenrys stalks across the room and throws the door open. No sooner than the door revealing the hall is he met with a fist flying into his face, catching him across the jaw. His head whips to the side and he just barely keeps his balance, despite the room shifting on its axis in his vision.

“Vaughan!”

Fenrys wipes the small trickle of blood from his mouth on the back of his hand and bares his teeth in a mocking grin, “Is that all you got? Your sister hits harder than that.”

Vaughan is an imposing male, almost as tall and dark as Lorcan, no doubt he could’ve killed Fenrys the moment he’d opened the door, but he’d held back. Whether it be for his sake or for his sister’s, Fenrys didn’t really care.

Fenrys launches himself at Vaughan, throwing his fist into the male’s face similarly to how he’d done to Fenrys. And suddenly they are a storm of fists and snarls, no better than wild beasts. Each hit Fenrys lands, Vaughan returns, earning both of them bruises and bloody noses and split knuckles.

His side sings in pain as Vaughan lands a strike to his ribs, stealing the air out of his lungs. Fenrys kicks out, catching Vaughan’s and sending the male careening to the ground. He doesn’t hesitate to rain down his fist into Vaughan’s face, feeling the satisfying crunch of bone.

“Fenrys stop,” Y/n orders and he makes the mistake of looking back at her.

Vaughan shoots up and tackles Fenrys to the ground, sending him sprawling backwards into the room. The male lands two hits to either side of his face before Fenrys can throw Vaughan to the side, shattering the washbasin and soaking them both in water from the pitcher. Fenrys climbs onto the male, getting one satisfying punch to his mouth. He doesn’t have time to relish the feeling before Vaughan flies forward, his head catching Fenrys so hard on his chin that his canine rips clean through his lip. His weight shifts backwards, and Vaughan is throwing him off, Fenrys feels his head connect with the edge of the wooden frame of the bed, the splitting pain nearly debilitating.

Vaughan is up, rushing for him and before the male can pin him down, Fenrys kicks him back, his heel driving into Vaughan’s gut, sending him sprawling back. Fenrys had always been quicker than the male, he uses that to his advantage as he leaps to his feet, throwing another harsh kick to Vaughan’s side before he pins the male down, hitting the male again and again and again letting his rage and pent up emotion drive the power in each hit. When he rears back for another, his wrist is caught, nails digging into his skin hard enough to bleed.

“That’s enough.”

Her voice is so lethally calm, so powerful, with that air of dominance, that Fenrys freezes, Vaughan beneath him doing the same. Fenrys dares a glance back at her, noting the impromptu dress she’d made of the sheet covering her, and then he sees her face and Fenrys has the urge to lower his gaze.

The picture of rage, her eyes are narrowed to slits, and she looks like a predator ready to kill. He’d never felt more like prey under that stare, her keen eyes are now lethal weapons and she looks more animal than fae, one wrong move and she would strike.

Fenrys slowly pushes to his feet, wincing slightly when she lets go of his wrist and the cold air stings the small wounds in his skin. She looks at him like she is holding him at the tip of a sword, ready to run him through.

“Y/n,” he says softly.

“Out,” she hisses, glaring at him then down at her brother, “Both of you, now.”

Fenrys doesn’t hesitate to do as he’s told, helplessly heeding her commands. He doesn’t wait to see if Vaughan will follow the order or not, if the male is smart he will. He turns when he’s just outside the door, Vaughan stepping out beside him. A wad of cloth hits Fenrys in the chest, a shirt, and then the door slams shut hard enough to shake the stone beneath his feet.

They stand there in silence for a moment, as if their minds were still trying to catch up to what had just happened. And once his mind does just that, Fenrys curses. They’d fucked up, bad.

“I need a drink,” Vaughan sighs, looking at that door like it had mortally wounded him, and then he turns, stalking down the hall, “Put your fucking shirt on.”

Fenrys glares at the male’s back but slides the shirt over his head. With one last look at the door to his room, their room, he swears he can feel her piercing glare through the door, Fenrys follows Vaughan silently.

Despite the late hour, the hearth still blazes with heat, the very few riders still awake feeding the fire. Fenrys sits close to the edge, letting the heat dry off his clothes, letting it warm the chill that had set into his bones the further he walked away from her.

Vaughan sat a few feet away from him and Fenrys is more than a little pleased to see the bruises and blood on the male’s face. No doubt he looks nearly identical, he can feel the ache in his jaw and in his ribs, hopefully nothing broken, but given the sharp pain with each breath, he doesn’t think he’ll be that lucky.

“Keep your eyes to yourself, Moonbeam,” Vaughan snaps, turning his glaring eyes from the fire.

Fenrys simply grins back at him, “You know you love the attention.”

Vaughan scoffs and he turns back to the fire, always a male of few words, and a male who loathed attention. Fenrys knew more about him now from the month of traveling with Y/n than he’d learned in the century of fighting beside the male. And still, he feels like he barely knows Vaughan at all.

“Where were you going?” Fenrys asks.

It’s a simple question, but Vaughan is silent for a long time as if there was far more to it than a simple answer. Fenrys lets him stew in it, trying to keep back the words that he wants to scream at the male, why wouldn’t you go back for her?

“I don’t know,” Vaughan finally says, “I was just flying. Anywhere, everywhere.”

“Except home,” Fenrys says shortly.

He sees the wince, the hurt, and Fenrys is satisfied knowing that it wounded him. He deserves it, Fenrys tells himself, even if small part of him feels bad for his friend. There is still a larger part of him that seethes at the male for the hurt he’d caused Y/n, and for the rude interruption.

“I wasn’t sure I had a home to go back to,” Vaughan says after a moment.

Fenrys doesn’t say anything, only because he feels her approach long before he sees her. As much as he wants to dig into the male, it wasn’t his place, and Y/n is more than capable of fighting her own battles.

“Bullshit.”

Fenrys look up at her as she moves into the space between him and her brother. She’s dressed in the warm thick clothes he’d stripped off of her less than an hour ago. Fenrys fights off the rising heat in his blood at the memory of her, bare and writhing beneath him, the memory of her taste on his tongue.

“Y/n,” Vaughan tries to placate her, but she’s having none of it.

“You never even tried,” she snaps, her arms crossed over her chest as if she was trying to shield her heart and hold herself together, “For twenty years, you left and you never even tried to come back.”

“I did,” Vaughan snaps.

Fenrys watches the air punch from Y/n’s lungs, “What?”

Fenrys feels like he shouldn’t be there for this conversation, but he couldn’t get up and make himself leave. It felt like there was this little thread holding him in place, and on the other side of it was Y/n and all of her rage and fear and sadness.

“I checked on you,” Vaughan explains, “Every few years, and every time I saw you through the window. I saw our mother’s face, dead because I brought a monster back home with me.”

The rage on her face shatters, “Vaughan.”

“She almost caught me,” he says, “When I came back that last time, it wrecked me to leave you there, knowing you hated me, and Maeve had sensed it.”

Fenrys feels cold despite the roaring fire in front of him. And by the way she is trembling, Fenrys knows Y/n feels that chill in her own bones. He reaches for her, taking that shaking hand in his own and she sinks into the seat beside him, holding onto him like a lifeline. Vaughan glances between them, his brow furrowed like he was trying to decipher something. And then there’s a look of surprise and resignation in his eyes that Fenrys doesn’t have the time to figure out.

“She was watching me,” Vaughan says after a moment, “For years trying to figure out where I’d been, who had caused my heart break. I was only able to get away a few times to check on you, only when she was distracted.”

Vaughan gives Fenrys a sad look, and he knows exactly what the male means. When Fenrys had been called to her room, hours turning into days, into weeks. Despite the horror of it, Fenrys is glad Vaughan had used that time to check of the female beside him. Even if he hadn’t known her yet, the cruel strings of fate had helped him protect her, that was worth his suffering.

“I stayed away because I wanted to keep you safe from her,” Vaughan says, “And then she was gone, and it had been twenty years since you’d told me to leave and never come back, I didn’t think you’d want to see me.”

“I didn’t mean it,” Y/n whispers, and Fenrys can hear the tears in her voice, “I’ve missed you every day, every minute since you left.”

“I know,” Vaughan sighs, “I think a part of me already knew that. But she was gone, I felt it the very moment she’d been slain, the blood oath untethering me, releasing me, and for the first time in nearly four hundred years, I was free.”

The way he says it, almost like Vaughan still couldn’t believe it. Fenrys knows exactly how the male feels, because he felt the exact same way, even as he watched the valg queen burn.

“My whole life I have been chained,” Vaughan says, “Shackled to my father’s will, to Maeve’s. And suddenly, nothing, my wings could take me anywhere and everywhere because I willed it, no one else.”

A look of understanding flits across Y/n’s face, right beside the sadness and despair, “You weren’t shackled to me anymore, either.”

Vaughan shakes his head, “I never was, you were the one thing I chose. Protecting you, loving you, being your brother was my choice, my duty above all else and I failed you, and for that I am so sorry.”

She shakes her head, “No-“

“Yes,” Vaughan says quickly, “I did, and I know there is nothing I can say, or do to fix that, I can only beg for your forgiveness.”

Fenrys releases her a second before she moves, crashing into her brother with her arms thrown around him. Vaughan instantly holds her against his chest, his arms cradling her, shielding her from the world.

There’s a warmth in his chest at the sight, and for a split second, pain. What he wouldn’t give to beg for Connall’s forgiveness, to hold his brother one more time. Like she can feel it, like she knows his mind has drifted back to that throne room, his brother’s eyes blankly staring at him, Y/n pulls away from her brother. Her eyes, keen and knowing, find his, and Fenrys gives her non-convincing smile.

He wouldn’t ruin this for her, not when she actually has the chance to fix what has been broken with her brother. So, Fenrys stands, taking a single step closer to her, and because he is a selfish male, he leans down to press a soft kiss against her lips.

“I’ll be in our room,” he whispers against her mouth, “Take your time.”

He notes the way Vaughan’s hands are clenched into fists, the male showing considerable restraint, no doubt imagining throwing Fenrys into the fire to get him away from his sister.

“I’ll be waiting,” he says lowly, kissing Y/n once more before he pulls away.

And because he is completely unreasonable and still pissed at the male for earlier, Fenrys grins at Vaughan and winks before he turns and walks away. He laughs at the low growl and answering hiss behind him.

It’s hard not to watch him as he walks away, noting the slight limp in his step. There had been a moment during their fight that she was sure one of them wouldn’t come out alive, he was injured, probably more than he’d be willing to admit. She wants to follow him, to heal those wounds, her magic itching to help, to soothe.

“How did that happen?”

She tears her eyes away from the now empty spot Fenrys had last been, to find her brother watching her with knowing eyes. Part of her wants to hide from that look, Vaughan always saw to much, knew everything before she did, even when it was her own mind he had figured out.

“What?”

“You and him,” Vaughan says simply.

There’s more to it than those three words, she just didn’t know what exactly he was holding back.

“I found him after you’d left for Antica,” she explains.

It feels like she was transported back to that little human town, watching the male strike out with every vendor in the market. She’d heard the wolf was home and she tracked him down, part of her thought maybe Vaughan would have been with him, but then she’d seen Fenrys in the market, asking the same questions she’d been asking for months. So she watched him, keeping her distance, taking a step closer each day until she’d been right beside him. And then she’d heard of the ship leaving for Antica, the whispers of strangers on the passing wind, a gift from the Wyrd.

“I saw an opportunity,” she continues, “With my limited experience of the world, I had no idea how to get across the ocean to find you. And he was hitting a dead end. We struck a deal.”

Vaughan is quiet for a moment, “When did you start loving him?”

Her heart stops dead in her chest and she isn’t sure she’d heard him right, not until her gives her that smile that said he knew everything already, just wanted her to confirm it. Loving Fenrys? The idea is so ludicrous that she almost laughs, but then her heart starts thundering beneath her ribs and her breath feels caught in her chest.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she stutters, “I don’t.”

Vaughan laughs and the sound holds little joy, “You do.”

There’s no room for argument, as if her heart belonging to the golden male in her room was a simple fact that was unavoidable. And Vaughan seems to be resigning himself to it, forcing back the urge to be her vengeful big brother that would kill any male who looked at her.

“Of all the bastards in the world, you had to pick that one.” Her shoulders tense and he shifts his weight, nudging her with his own, “Relax, I’m only teasing.”

When he sits back in his seat, she sees him wince and she remembers that unforgiving kick Fenrys had landed to her brother’s side. She lifts her hand, letting that warm ball of power fill her palm as she rests it on his arm. It feels like her magic seeks out each wound, knitting together broken bones and bleeding skin. Vaughan takes a deep breath as his broken rib settles back into place, and he smiles softly at her.

“I’d forgotten how that felt,” he says, his face falling, “I’m sorry, Y/n, for all of it.”

“I understand,” she says, pulling away her hand once she feels no more wounds to mend.

“Only because you are to forgiving,” he laughs mirthlessly, “You have every right to hate me.”

“Trust me,” she says, “I am still furious with you, and I wish more than anything you would have just come home to tell me all of this without me sailing across the world to find you.”

He winces, “I am so sorry.”

She continues as if he hadn’t spoken, “I am furious, but I understand, and I will understand if you want to keep flying wherever your wings may take you. I just hope those wings will bring you home someday.”

There is this intense relief on his face when he says, “They will, I swear it.”

Y/n holds out her hand, “And I will be waiting for you there”

He doesn’t take her hand, and she frowns.

“No,” Vaughan shakes his head and he glances behind her, “I expect your home is somewhere else now.”

Tag list -

#throne of glass x reader #throne of glass #tog #tog x reader #fenrys tog #help me help you #fenrys moonbeam #fenrys x reader

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fanwarriorfictions · 5 months ago

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Y/n is sick of Fenrys and Vaughan in this next part

#help me help you

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fanwarriorfictions · 5 months ago

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Help me help you is a masterpiece and I'm obsessed

Omg thank you!!!! 🥹

#help me help you

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fanwarriorfictions · 5 months ago

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Help Me, Help You - Part Fourteen

Fenrys x f!Reader

Summary- Fenrys and Y/n take some time to themselves and cross a pivotal line in their relationship

Warnings- Possessive Fenrys, spice and smut(oral f! receiving), angst, there is conversation of Fenrys’s SA trauma, not to detailed, everyone’s healing journey is different and this may not be an accurate portrayal of how one may deal with trauma like his

Series Masterlist

Part Fourteen

Y/n is sitting on the edge of the small bed, braiding her freshly washed hair when Fenrys finally returns. His eyes narrow in on her, on where she’s sitting, instantly, and they’re dark with that emotion she’s come to recognize as need.

Her body heats at the memory of his hands on her hips, on her thighs. The way he’d held her there, looking up at her like she was the moon in the sky. She could still feel that kiss he’d pressed to her shoulder, the way she’d had to force herself not to tilt her head and expose her sensitive neck to him.

“What took you so long?” She ignores the slight breathy tone to her voice, “Did you have to cook the poor thing yourself?”

Fenrys chuckles and shakes his head, crossing the distance between them, “Your brother wanted to have a little chat.”

Like a bucket of cold water dumped over her head, all the heat drains from her body. She hadn’t forgotten, the way Vaughan had held her heart in his hand and tore it apart with three words, no I wasn’t. She’d simply let herself be distracted by Fenrys and the way he could ignite her blood with a simple touch.

“What did he say?”

Fenrys sits beside her, settling their plates between them. Her stomach grumbles at the smell of the spiced meat.

“Eat,” Fenrys says, picking up his own plate.

A different sort of heat lights in her veins at the order, similar to the first days of their journey, annoyance and a flash of anger.

“What did he say,” she says, not a question anymore, a demand.

He looks at her, a small grin forming on his lips at the expression on her face, “I like it when you’re angry, kitten.”

Fenrys turns to his food, tearing a large piece of meat off the bone, shoving it into his mouth. He groans at the taste, and Y/n vehemently ignores the way that makes her feel.

She swipes his plate from his hands, setting it on the small table beside the bed. Fenrys shouts in protest but his eyes are lit with humor and mischief.

“You can have that back when you tell me what my brother said,” she snaps, putting her own plate beside his so he doesn’t just steal it.

She shifts, sitting on the bed with her legs tucked beneath her so that she’s completely facing the male. Y/n waves him on, giving him a hard look that promises hell if he doesn’t start talking.

Fenrys sighs, “Oh you know, big brother stuff, stay away from my sister or I’ll kill you. Or something like that, I didn’t stay for long. I told him I had much better stuff to do with you waiting in my bed.”

“You did not,” Y/n hisses, slapping his chest when he laughs, “Fenrys he’s going to think that we’re-“

The words catch in her throat imagining all the things they could be doing in this bed and he winks at her when her face flushes. He made it sound like she’d be here naked, waiting for him, aching for him. Somehow it wasn’t far from the truth.

He captures her hand as it comes back down for another blow, holding it firmly to his chest, “Let him think whatever he wants, kitten.”

“Fenrys you don’t understand,” Y/n groans, trying and failing to pull her hand away, “He nearly killed the first male I’d been with.”

His grip on her tightens in response, keeping her hand pressed against him, “First, I can handle your brother if he’s dumb enough to attack me. Second, is that male still breathing?”

Y/n raises a brow at him, “What?”

“Is he the one who stole your first kiss?”

Stole, as if that kiss didn’t belong to the nameless male she hadn’t seen since her brother had ran him out of town. Vaughan had beaten the blacksmith near death, making him vow to never speak of her to anyone ever again. Part of that had been because he was her brother and he was insanely overprotective, and part had been because the male was a demi-fae capable of earning passage into Doranelle.

“He didn’t steal anything,” she snaps, tugging once again at her hand that he refuses to let go, “I let him-“

Fenrys lets out a near animalistic growl, cutting her off, “I wish your brother had killed him.”

There’s a familiar expression on his face, she’d seen it when she’d told him of her first kiss and back in Antica. Jealous, it hits her then, Fenrys was gods damned jealous of the blacksmith like he had been of Kashin.

“Gods you insufferable male.” Again, she pulls at her hand, again he keeps it pinned to the muscle above his heart. “You’re seriously jealous of a male I slept with nearly a century ago.”

His growl vibrates through her, and there’s a small, dangerous voice in her head that tells her to push him. She’d ignored it the last time, when she’d felt him hard beneath her, held back by their companions sleeping only a few feet away from them. This time, she pushed.

“Is your ego so easily bruised?” Instead of pulling on the hand he has trapped, she shoves, finding him to be an immovable piece of stone. “First Kashin, now this. The mere idea of someone bringing me pleasure, of touching me, of fucking-“

Suddenly he’s no longer holding her hand to his chest, but tugging her whole body against him. Fenrys moves her so fast, as if he’d used his power to rip her through time and space to place her on his lap, her thighs straddling his own. His hands are on her waist, holding her in place against him.

“Do not finish that sentence,” he warns.

“Does it really bother you so much?” Y/n tries to keep herself in check, to not lose this battle of wills, “That someone kissed me before you? That the same male fucked me before you?”

His mouth collides with hers, no gentleness, only raging passion. They move against each other, both desperate to win this battle. His sharp canine drags over her bottom lip, biting down just hard enough to make her gasp, and then he’s trailing his lips across her jaw and down the side of her neck. She doesn’t fight it this time, tilting her head back, exposing the entire expanse of her neck to him. She is completely vulnerable like this, he could easily tear her throat out with his teeth, yet he only worships her with his mouth.

“Yes,” he says against her skin, kissing the spot on her neck that has her seeing stars, “It bothers me a lot that another male has had you like this, it shouldn’t but it does.”

She wants to tell him that no one has ever had her like this, had her like he does, panting and writhing with need. The blacksmith had satisfied her, had quelled that ache, but it’d been nothing more. This, with Fenrys, was so much more than pleasure. But she can’t say anything, can’t draw out the words past the sighs and moans falling past her lips.

“It bothers me,” Fenrys continues, paying that spot on her neck extra attention between words, “That I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything else, that I crave you every hour of the day, that I want to touch you and please you despite everything that has been done to me.”

She can feel it, that last bit of darkness he’d yet to explore with her, the one that sat beneath his remaining scar, much deeper than anything else. Y/n wants to pull away, to give him the full attention he deserves, but Fenrys doesn’t let her. She can feel the sharpness of his teeth as he closes his mouth around her pulse point, drawing a whine from her as he just barely bites down, not enough to make her bleed, but enough to make her moan his name.

He pulls away with a groan, just far enough that he can look her in the eye as he says, “It bothers me that I am scared, scared that I won’t be able to give you what you need, what you deserve, scared that I am not ready after everything she did, what she forced me to do.”

It hits her like a sword through her gut, “Fenrys-“

He shakes his head, lifting a hand to her cheek, “I haven’t wanted this, to touch anyone like this, not after her. And then you found me, and those eyes saw everything I am and you didn’t shy away from all the broken and bleeding parts of me. I haven’t wanted anyone the way I want you, haven’t felt that raging jealousy for anyone the way I do when your arm is around a prince’s instead of my own. So yeah, the idea of a male fucking you drives me crazy.”

He’s back at her neck, his hands tracing over her hips and her thighs and her back and it’s all so overwhelming.

“Fen-“ She’s gasping his name, unable to do much else but hold onto him, “I- gods.”

“What do you need, kitten.” He pulls back to look at her again, “Tell me what you need.”

Gods what did she need? She needs him to stop teasing her, needs to feel his skin beneath her palms and not covered by his layers of leathers, she needs him more than anything and she can’t think, can’t breathe.

“I- slow down,” she gasps.

He stops instantly, his hands settling on her sides, a light gentle pressure that keeps her just on the edge of dizziness. Fenrys watches her with furrowed brows and she can tell it is taking a lot of his self control to keep from moving against her. He waits for her to speak and it takes her several breaths before she can even think coherently.

“You don’t have to,” she finally says.

“I want to,” he groans, his hands tightening on her waist.

She reaches for his face, cradling him between her palms, “You don’t have to, if you’re not ready.”

Y/n trails a finger over the scar above his brow, her power begging to be let out, to take that final piece of it, to heal him. But she could only take the surface level of the pain, not the darkness beneath it. The darkness she now knew, the darkness Maeve had caused. She didn’t need to know the details to know what he had been forced to do for the queen, she could connect the dots easily.

“Please,” he whispers, letting his head fall to rest against hers, “I won’t let her take everything from me.”

Y/n whispers, “She won’t, she can’t.”

“I want to,” Fenrys says, his hand on her side gripping her shirt, “I want to be worthy of you.”

She leans into him, feeling every desperate desire they held for each other, as if she could feel his right there besides hers. Y/n lifts his face to her own, kissing him, pouring every ounce of emotion into their lips until she is panting and aching.

“You have me,” she gasps against him.

And its like a damn is broken within him, the hands gripping her shirt pull, wrenching the fabric up her torso, exposing her skin to the chilled air around them. And she barely has the time to gasp his name before his mouth is on her, exploring her skin with his tongue and teeth, over her collarbone, down the valley of her breast. His hands exploring every inch of her, and if she thought it had felt good before, it is even better without cloth between his palms and her feverish skin.

She is practically purring when his mouth finally ghosts over her breast, and she cries out when his lips close over the sensitive peak, his tongue swirling around her nipple. Her hips move of their own volition, grinding down on his lap where she can feel the hard length of him pressed against her core. Fenrys groans and the vibration is nearly too much.

“Fenrys please.” She has no idea what she’s begging for, whatever he’s willing to give her, “Gods please.”

He knows what she needs, like he could read her mind and decipher the muddled mess of her brain. Fenrys shifts, lifting her with him effortlessly, turning to lay her back down on the small mattress and then he is kissing down her body leaving her writhing and moaning. And when he finds the seam of her pants, his hands are instantly tugging the material down her thighs, her panties with it, leaving her completely bare to him.

“Fuck,” he groans, sitting back to just look at her, his onyx eyes so impossibly dark, “You’re so perfect.”

Having his gaze on her, so heavy, while he was still completely clothed, had her trying to cover herself. Again, as if he understands exactly what she is feeling, his hands work open the laces of his flight leathers, tearing the material over his head, the undershirt with it. Y/n marvels at the golden brown expanse of his skin, the rigid muscle beneath. Yes she’d appreciated him shirtless before, but not like this. She reaches between them and her fingers trace each hard line of him, all the way down to the waistline of his leathers, pulling helplessly at the laces, wanting to see the length of him that is straining in the material.

“So needy,” he laughs, taking her hands and guiding them to her sides, “I have other plans for you.”

“Please,” she gasps, straining against his hands restraining her own, “I want to touch you.”

“You will,” he says, and there’s an edge to his tone like he wants to give into her, “I’ve been imagining this for to long now, I’m going to take my time with you.”

The ache between her thighs is nearly painful at that point and she doesn’t care what he does as long as he touches her there. Her body moves on its own, her legs falling open as she stares up at him, waiting to see his reaction to her vulnerability. The way his eyes fall to her center, drinking her in, almost has her coming undone right then without him even touching her.

“Beautiful, kitten,” Fenrys says, his voice low and breathy, “So fucking beautiful.”

He leans down to press his lips against her naval, trailing those fiery kisses further and further down, going right past where she wants him to the soft skin of her thigh. Her hips chase him and he pins her beneath a single strong arm, his other pushing her thighs further apart so he can settle between them, his mouth so close to her that she can feel each heavy breath leave his lips. She’s on fire, burning so hot as if she were a living flame stoked to life by him, and when he finally leans in, tasting her for the first time, she nearly combusts.

“Fenrys,” she gasps, her hands finding the golden strands of his hair, needing to hold onto something to keep her from falling into oblivion.

He is lost in her, groaning as he licks her from her entrance to the sensitive bundle of nerves above. Fenrys closes his lips around her and it’s the most intense wave of pleasure she has ever felt. Not even her own fingers had felt like this, he knows exactly how to press his tongue against her to draw out the moans and screams that surely leak through the door and into the aerie beyond. She doesn’t care who hears her, she can’t think of anything beyond him.

Each stroke of his tongue brings her closer and closer to the peak of her pleasure. Her hands grip his hair, pulling as if she could get him closer, have more of him, and he groans against her, the feeling is so intense that she does it again. The hand on her leg comes between them and she cries out when his fingers swipe through her arousal, she screams when a single finger dips into her and curls against a spot inside of her she hadn’t even known about.

“Fuck,” she cries out, feeling herself go higher and higher, so close to that breaking point, “Please, gods, I’m so- fuck.”

She can’t form the words to tell him but he knows, can feel her tightening around him, every muscle in her body going taut in desperation. Fenrys is relentless in his pace, his mouth and his fingers expertly working her until it snaps, that coil in her belly releasing in a brilliant wave of pleasure. Y/n cries his name as she falls from that peak, her body writhing and shaking with the power of it, and Fenrys is right there to catch her, letting her ride out each aftershock until she falls completely limp beneath him. Only then does he pull away, looking up at her with dark onyx eyes full of pride and desire, his lips shining as they pull up into a satisfied grin.

“You taste better than I’d dreamed,” Fenrys says, and her core tightens when he licks his lips, as if she had been a grand feast gifted to a starving male.

Y/n can barely draw words to her lips, “You’ve dreamed of me?”

Fenrys nods, crawling over her whispering the words against her lips, “I’ve been dreaming of you since that first night in Antica, dreaming of you in that little towel, dreaming of licking the beads of water off of your thighs.”

Despite her exhaustion, the words have her clenching her thighs to relieve some of the ache. Fenrys captures her lips in a slow sensual kiss, she can taste herself on his tongue and she moans into his mouth. He takes the sound greedily like he can’t get enough of her, she knows because she feels the same. She needs all of him, her still shaking legs wrap around is hips, pulling so his weight settles on top of her and she can feel him against her core, still covered by his flight leathers.

“Take them off,” she orders.

Fenrys chuckles against her lips, but he doesn’t argue. He shifts back, her legs falling apart to let him, and he sits on his heels. Fenrys watches her as he slowly tackles the laces, pulling them apart one by one until she is whining, begging him to hurry up before she loses her mind and rips the material off of him.

And just when she thinks he is going to put her out of her misery, someone is pounding on their door, hard enough that she thinks the wood may shatter beneath their fist.

Fenrys growls at the noise, taking the blanket from the bed to cover her. And the answering growl on the other side of the door has her completely frozen in place, clutching the fabric to her chest.

“You have five seconds to remove yourself from my sister, Moonbeam,” Vaughan shouts through the door, “And then I am going to kill you.”

Tag list -

#throne of glass #throne of glass x reader #tog #tog x reader #fenrys tog #fenrys moonbeam #fenrys x reader #help me help you

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