#{and you all need the guiding light of the Lord} | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pellucid-constellations · 6 days

Text

If It All Fell (6)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: Angst, PINING

a/n: Sorryyyy for the wait <3 As a lot of you know I have been going through it lately, but I really enjoyed writing this and hope to post more immediately 🤜. Let me know what you think :))

Part 1 ♡ Part 2 ☆ Part 3 ✶ Part 4☼ Part 5 ☁ Part 7 ☆

Series Masterlist

Day Court was immeasurably beautiful—with all of its pristine columns reflecting orange light. Marble flooring shone with distorted images of acrylic brush strokes that hung on granite walls. Fountains billowed at the mouth of every doorway, sculpted fixtures at their bases. Warm wind kissed your skin and glistening waters welcomed you and Day Court was so incredibly beautiful.

You were sure, if given the chance, you would think the same of its residents.

Unfortunately, you were not given the chance to come to that conclusion.

“The High Lord is in a meeting. He sends his apologies for not meeting you upon your arrival—the merchants of Day can get a bit rowdy,” the servant laughed. “I can show you to your rooms in the meantime.”

“Rooms?” Rhysand posed. You attempted to look over Azriel’s wing to gauge the conversation, but Cassian took another step to the side, halting your movement.

“Yes, Helion informed us that the four of you would be here, so we prepared four rooms. If that’s not—”

“Three rooms will suffice, thank you,” your High Lord drawled.

The servant squeaked, and you were sure if you could see her, her nerves would be evident. “Of—of course, High Lord. I assume Lady Y/n will be with—”

“We will deal with the division of our rooms on our own. Thank you…”

“Amira,” the servant offered. “My name is Amira. I will be attending to you, Lady Y/n, during your time here.”

You knocked your head to the side, brushing Cassian’s bicep as he stood beside you. You barely caught Amira’s mousey brown hair before the membrane of a wing flushed out and pushed you back.

“She doesn’t need an attendant,” Azriel bit out, misplaced malice creating tension in the hall.

“Oh, it’s okay, I—”

Apparently, not even your voice was allowed to be heard. Rhysand cut you off. “No attendant,” he confirmed, after sending his spymaster a sidelong glance laced with reproach. “No servants in our rooms, either. We are rather private, you understand.”

A pause.

You wished you could see anyone’s expression.

From beside you, Cassian offered you a pity smile, nudging you with his elbow in an act of comfort.

“Anything you require,” Amira shakily responded. “Shall I walk you back, then? Just to show you where you will be staying?”

“Lead the way.”

Azriel immediately stepped back, his shadows scrambling past him to enclose you in dim light. You felt his presence, firm and tall, looming at your back as you took the first few steps down the hall.

This all felt entirely misplaced, with the bleakness of your group extinguishing some of the vibrance of the court you walked through. Cassian kept close to your side, some of Azriel’s shadows drifting off and cloaking the red glow on his hands and chest. Rhys, ever the High Lord, took up the front, footsteps light but purposeful.

Everyone looked grim.

Except for you.

This court held no negative connotations for you, no malicious undertones that impacted the rest of your family. It was simply beautiful, and your family was simply cloistering you.

But you agreed to this; anything to make them feel better.

To make Azriel feel better.

You turned your head to the side as you walked, catching the shadowsinger in your peripheral. Tense, on-guard, unyielding; Azriel’s jaw was set in a firm clench, but it was different from what you were used to. When he was tense at home, it was almost out of… anticipation? Trepidation?

Here though… here his posture was derived from rage. From practiced, honed fury.

You turned your head away before you attempted to fix it, to comfort him. He wanted to be angry, told you as much before he winnowed you to Day in a flurry of his shadows.

I’m going to be different, he had told you, I need to be different. It can’t be like the last time. I can’t let you get hurt.

The fear in his eyes had melted away in the Day Court sun; the second your feet landed on meticulously carved cobblestone, Azriel was no longer just your friend.

Amira led you to three doors along a wall, mumbled a few parting words, and bowed away before anyone could send her a second glance. You attempted to offer her a reassuring smile amidst her flee, but Azriel’s shadows were too dense. A hand on your back led you into a room and Amira was gone.

“That went well,” Cassian breathed, a long sigh punctuating his descent into a loveseat by the bed. “She didn’t look terrified at all.”

The bedroom door clicked shut. Rhys raised his brows. “She’ll thank us later.” The High Lord’s eyes drifted to the shadowsinger sulking by your side. “This isn’t exactly a leisurely visit.”

Your gaze shot around the room in the following lapse of silence, analyzing the tense nature of each male. The air felt stagnant and stiff, the light somehow dimmer even with the open windows, and you weren’t sure if your voice would make it worse or ease some of the pressing emotions.

Rhys took a seat in a chair by the door, and you decided speaking was better than leaning into the uncomfortable silence.

“It’s so beautiful here,” you began, playing with your fingers, second-guessing your decision to stand. Azriel remained motionless at your side. “The sun feels different somehow. Brighter, maybe?”

“The skies have an affinity for their namesake in the solar courts,” Rhys offered kindly.

You hummed, rolling onto your toes and then rocking back on your heels. “I suppose that makes sense. The nights are incredible back home.”

The use of that word—home—did not go unnoticed by the group. Not by you and certainly not by the male standing guard at your side. The replacement of the word had been relatively common since you woke up.

Here in Velaris, there is….

When you came back here all those years ago…

Let’s go back to the house…

Never home.

But being in Day—being away from Velaris—just solidified what you already assumed. Velaris was your home. You were sick of letting your family dance around that truth.

“Mother above, I was sure I would never see you again,” a strange voice tore your attention from Cassian’s vivid retelling of your first time flying with him, and although it was an interesting story, the man before you was even more enticing.

With deep skin and an even deeper smile, white linen billowed around his confident figure. The man appeared to glisten as he walked toward your small group, golden sandals trailing up bronze calves. Even the air around him seemed to glow.

Enticing didn’t seem to be the correct word.

You’d been directed into a rather large study after a brief lunch and a “tour” of the grounds that only included the wing you were staying in. Rhys had chalked it up to Helion stalling for time. You’d tried to coax a more comprehensive tour out of the guard leading you around, but a sharp look from Azriel was enough to put that conversation to rest.

“You look just as you did. Perhaps a bit gaunt but…” The man—Helion, you’d deduced—trailed off when the whisper of a shadow trailed at his neck. “I am Helion,” he smiled. “You have known me for many years. In love with me, as most are. But, alas, it is not fated.”

Some of your awe shifted to shock. “I am—I’m sorry, I am in love with you?”

In front of you, Cassian let out a long breath and fanned his wings out before letting them hang behind his chair. You sat straighter in your own seat, mortification creeping into your chest at the small laugh Rhys let slip across the room. What set your mouth into its flurry, however, was the raised brow you received from Helion.

“I didn’t mean that to offend. I mean—what I meant was just that… Well, no one said I had a lover or even mentioned you in that way so it came as a shock. But I presume there is much about myself I have yet to learn so… you are a very beautiful man and I’m sure—”

“Y/n, it’s alright,” came Azriel’s soothing voice from beside you, his scarred fingers pushing hair behind your ear halting your apologies. “He was only joking.” A pointed look in the High Lord’s direction. “He does that from time to time, unfortunately.”

More mortification made an appearance.

“Oh.”

Helion’s raised brow had morphed into an unsure expression at some point amidst your rambling. “When they said you had no memory… You will have to excuse me, y/n. I assumed you’d have more… context. Especially with your abilities.”

“We told you she remembered nothing and had no access to her magic,” Azriel defended, his fingers dropping to rest beside your thighs.

“Well, yes, but often when magic tampers with the mind, the personality remains intact. Like a muscle memory.”

“Oh, her personality is there,” Cassian retorted, a bittersweet smirk playing at his lips. “Just not when she’s met you five seconds ago and you’re revealing fake truths. Sarcasm doesn’t often work with strangers.”

Helion nodded grimly, turning back to you. “I apologize.”

“It’s really alright,” you comforted, attempting to calm some of the twisted guilt marring the High Lord’s face. “They worry too much. Right now everything I do is without context and I find myself embarrassed more often than not. It’s not your fault.”

Helion did not look convinced or reassured. His eyes simply traveled to the corners of your face and tracked down to the patterns Azriel was drawing into the skirts of your dress.

“Do you see now why we needed to come to you,” Rhys chimed in from above his crossed arms.

Helion hummed. “Yes. Shall I get started then?”

The room shuffled. You were informed that Helion had to be touching your head to assess the injury—unlike Rhys’s assessment—so you were sat atop a table to give him better access. Azriel followed by your side, his front pressed against the table, Cassian stood his ground behind Helion, and Rhys took up residence on your other side.

“In Day, we have a type of healing that extends to magical wards and enchantments, was that explained to you?” Helion asked, kind eyes never leaving yours. Too kind—uncertain and full of reproach.

“Yes, they said maybe the witch put something in my mind. Like a blockage.”

“Precisely. And I was informed about Rhysand’s unsuccessful attempt at entering your mind. That could be due to a spell, which is why I would be more useful.”

Rhys scoffed.

You let a smile tug at your lips, but it was quickly extinguished when you considered the outcome of this process. “Will it feel the same? What you’re doing and what Rhys did?”

You could almost hear the way Azriel ground his jaw.

Helion glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “It will feel different. I am not in the business of thoughts or memories. I won’t be able to access anything other than any inflictions you may have.”

“So it won’t hurt?”

“I cannot promise anything.”

The table beneath you shifted an inch, just to be caught by hands glowing with blue light.

I need to be different. It can’t be like the last time. I can’t let you get hurt.

“Still sure you can’t just beat the crap out of whatever’s going on in my head?” you posed to Cassian, tilting your head up to call over Helion’s shoulder.

The general’s chuckle eased some of the tension in the room. “I would if I could.”

“Promise?”

“Always.”

With a resigned breath, you nodded to Helion. The High Lord’s hands glowed a golden white, he lifted them to your head, and then there was nothing.

Azriel

If he hadn’t shot his hand out when he did, Azriel was sure your head would have fallen out of Helion’s grasp and plummeted to the floor.

You were limp.

Eyes closed, neck bent—completely and utterly limp.

Azriel took the liberty of tugging on the bond just to make sure you were still alive. He hadn’t done so since you woke up in the forest, remembering the fear in your eyes, but you looked so incredibly lifeless.

“Helion,” he barked, his worried expression never turning from your face.

Icy panic gripped his stomach, twisting it with fervor.

Cassian took a step forward.

“Why is she unconscious?” his brother gritted out. His tone was an empty threat; he couldn’t hurt a High Lord, and neither could Azriel, but Azriel would do much more for much less.

His life had become a nightmare.

Literally.

On his worst nights, he relived the time you went missing and the subsequent loss of your memories over and over until he woke up screaming. His heart would beat so rapidly it seemed impossible to slow and he would be inconsolable for several minutes, but he always had you there. He would wake up from that nightmare and you would be there.

He had that dream every night now, and he woke up to the same. The guestroom he occupied didn’t smell like you, and even though you were just on the other side of the wall, he couldn’t make out the sound of your breath enough to let it lull him back to sleep. Nothing you owned was in that room. Everything he owned was still in a pile by the door after Feyre had rushed to clear the evidence of him from your space. But why did that matter? What were books and trinkets and clothes in a room that was otherwise devoid of everything he loved?

Leaving his room was worse.

Gods, all he wanted to do was hold you. To really, truly hold you and for you to hold him back. But you looked at him cordially, the same way you looked at Cassian and Rhysand and Mor.

When he left the house he had to deal with Feyre and Nesta’s constant questioning. Even Amren had taken an interest in your well-being, and while he appreciated the care for his mate, he couldn’t take it.

He couldn’t take echoing the words, “She’s fine. Healthy. Less pain today,” over and over when he could tell what they really wanted to know were things you wouldn’t share with him. He couldn’t take the fact that you didn’t tell him you loved him—that he would whisper it at your back every time you turned around and you never heard. You were skittish at his touch and shy when you spoke and you were never the first to voice your opinion and he just couldn’t take it.

With your head in his broken hand, Azriel felt another piece of him crack.

“I did it.” Rhys broke the silence, a concentration twisting his brow. “Helion and I agreed it was the best way to go about this. It had to be sudden though—unexpected. We needed a moment where her mind was completely unexpecting.”

Cassian cursed. “You couldn’t have told us that before you made it look like she died, Rhysand?”

“If y/n were dead no one would be standing here right now and you know that.”

“Still,” Cassian mumbled. “Warn a guy.”

“I’ve felt this before,” Helion said, shaking his head. “But that’s impossible. Rhysand, you would have—”

“I would have, yes, but not if it was created through other means. It was a witch, not a daemati.”

“She could have been both.”

“Extremely unlikely. Keep going.”

Azriel watched the way your lashes fluttered, counted the beats of your heart and pretended you knew who he was.

“What’s happening?” he asked. “You’re both in her head. Talk.”

“I couldn’t get through the wall myself because it wasn’t her magic,” Rhys explained. “I assumed it was the witch’s, but this signature is too similar. It’s exactly like it was before, just muted.”

“Like it was before?” Azriel repeated, finally turning his head up.

Rhysand looked grim. “Almost identical.”

“That isn’t possible,” the shadowsinger immediately refuted. “I killed that bastard myself. There is no way he could have done anything to her.”

“Azriel, I think it’s possible that—”

But Azriel did not let the High Lord of Day finish his thought. “You don’t speak to me about her,” he seethed. “Not when she came to your court and one of your people did this to her. I trusted you with her. I sent my mate here and she has been paying the price for that ever since. This is your fault, so you do not tell me what you think. You tell me what is certain.”

The room went silent, and Helion looked back at you, eyes glazing as he continued his work.

A strong, steady hand clapped against Azriel’s shoulder. It took Cassian three tugs before Azriel reluctantly let your head go, but only after Rhysand placed his own hand at your back.

“Look, I get it,” Cassian comforted, hands on his brother's arms. “If this was Nesta I’d probably be tearing this room apart right now. But he’s all we have here. And you know it wasn’t his fault last time. You remember how hard he worked to get her back.”

Azriel ignored him.

Cassian roughly shook his frame.

“Hey, you know that. And you know y/n’s going to be pissed at you when she gets her memories back and hears how much of an ass you’re being to Helion. She’s going to be severely pissed if you start a war trying to kill the guy.”

“If.”

The small smile Cassian was sporting faltered. “What?”

Azriel finally met his eyes. “If she gets her memories back. It was an if last time and it’s an if again.”

The two High Lords discussed quietly in the back, their hands still on you. Azriel’s shadows refused to leave your side, weaving through your hair and your clothes and the fingers against your head.

“Well last time she got them back, didn’t she?”

“You truly believe that will happen twice? I was praying to the mother for luck the first time, Cassian. She won’t listen again. I guarantee she won’t.”

“Az…” Cassian trailed off. There was no speech to formulate, not when defeat and resolution were so clear on his brother’s face.

“She won’t love me a third time.”

Your cough had Azriel bolting away from his brother’s concerned gaze in an instant. You were no longer in Helion’s grasp, instead leaning against Rhysand’s arm as the High Lord of Day scribbled something in a book.

“Ow.” You rubbed at your head with a pinched expression, squinting up at Azriel as he leaned down. “I think I passed out or something.”

It was mostly out of hysterics, but a small laugh escaped the spymaster. “Or something.”

Gods, you sent a spark of joy down the bond and it was all-consuming. You did that from time to time, unintentionally flooding Azriel with whatever emotion you felt the strongest. More than once he had to stop himself from opening his side completely just to relish in the reminisce you offered him.

“What about this time? Did we figure it out?” you slurred, squeezing your eyes open just to have the drop closed once again.

Azriel tucked his hand against the back of your head and looked expectantly at the two High Lords before him.

When Helion spoke, Azriel let him, if only because he was still living on the high of his mate’s lingering amusement. “Whatever the witch did, it was a mimicry of the daemati that tore into her head all those years ago. I need to do more research, see if I am able to undo whatever it is she redid without irreparably damaging her mind. If I can’t, the only answer is the witch.”

“Is that even possible? To mimic something like that?” Azriel asked, stepping forward so your drooping head would fall against his arm.

“Witches draw power beyond their reserve and even beyond the cauldron. We know so little about them. Tamlin should not have been making deals with them,” Helion curtly replied.

Any lightness in the room had very clearly disappeared.

“Take your mate back to your room. We can discuss this when she no longer looks like she’s fighting to stay awake.”

“I am awake,” you argued, trying and failing to haul yourself into an upright position.

Rhysand huffed out a laugh. “I wouldn’t even be awake after having two high lords in my mind. Go rest. We will talk in the morning.”

Azriel assisted as you stood on unsteady legs, but the attempt was futile. The shadowsinger gathered you into his arms as you sent an accusatory finger in Rhysand’s direction. “Liar.”

It wasn’t until you were alone in the hallway, your head against Azriel’s shoulder, his arms beneath your body, that you spoke again.

“Azriel?”

He hummed in response.

“What’s a mate?”

Part 7 ☆

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x female!reader #azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel angst

711 notes · View notes

sungbeam · 6 days

Text

𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬

nonidol!kang yeosang x f!reader

yeosang doesn't remember your name, but he remembers what kissing you tastes like and how you like your eggs in the morning. just your regular prince charming trying to find his cinderella, or in this case, his passenger princess..?

9.5k (lord.....), nc-17, s2l, frateez au, college au, mentions of alcohol, swearing, kissing, humor, fluff, minimal angst, another cinderella story au/trope(?), drama (i bring i bring all the drama-ma-ma-ma), a girl who is not a girl's girl :l, the barest of proofreading

a/n: this is for the @atzhouse you can't outrage us event! guys if the flirting is lackluster, it's cuz im running out of rizz

“I don't believe you.”—

The last place you expected to end up was in the front seat of some guy's white Lexus while the party raged on inside the ATZ fraternity house just down the street. According to him, he had to run out just before the crowd rolled in, and when he got back, somebody had snatched his parking spot.

—“Okay, but why don't you believe me?”—

The car smelled not like fresh leather, but an enchanting mixture of something like pine and smoked wood. Bitter, yet somehow, refreshing. You bet, even as the alcohol was hitting you, that it was what he smelled like.

His name was Yeosang—the guy sitting next to you in the driver's seat, the owner of this car, and the ATZ fraternity brother you bumped into at his house's own party. That had been just about twenty minutes ago when you'd ended up isolated from your pack of friends, and Yeosang had needed a desperate breather. It seemed he'd been running from someone (question mark), so you asked if he knew where the kitchen was. Eager to get away from whoever it was, he guided you straight to the kitchen and where the secret stash of flavored sojus were.

An offhand comment about wishing you didn't have to miss this one drama episode dropping tonight led to a longer conversation about the dramas you both enjoyed, which somehow landed you in his passenger seat.

The rest was history. Or—you supposed the rest was now.

“Because,” Yeosang said in a tone that sounded a lot like he was saying 'duh’, “you don't look like a biology major.”

He was gorgeous, even if the lighting in the party and out here was jack shit. The way the shadows cut across his face made him look like a faerie torn straight out of one of your old sketchbooks. You were half certain he had pointed ears beneath the cat-eared beanie he wore, but maybe that was just the alcohol doing its thing.

You sputtered out a laugh as he knocked back another gulp of his melon soju. He was more drunk than you were, maybe not by too much because that wouldn't have been fair, but it did take him seven tries to unlock his car seven minutes ago. “What's a bio major s'posed to look like?”

“Mmm…” he hummed, lips pressed together in a line that dug into his cheeks. “Not you.”

It only made you laugh harder. It wasn't even that funny. “That doesn't even make sense!”

“Does it have to make sense?” He squawked. His face shuddered for a moment as if he just experienced a glitch. “I forgot what I was gonna say, but it's the vibe.”

“The vibe,” you parroted in mild amusement. After you swallowed down your next gulp of soju, you gestured to him with the bottle, “Okay, now what about you? Your major, go.”

“I read shit.”

“Who doesn't?”

“Jared, 19,” he replied, dead serious.

Equally serious, you asked with wide eyes, “Really?”

He gave you an emphatic nod back. Really. Now, if you were a little less tipsy, you wouldn't have taken what he said at face value, but tonight was already miles away from your regularly scheduled program.

You pondered on that—the “I read shit,” not the misfortunes of one nineteen year old named Jared. “So if you read a lot of shit, does that make you a literature major? No, wait! I got it; you look like Comparative Lit.”

“Bingo,” he cheered, raising his bottle up into the air. “Wait. What do you mean I look like a comparative lit major? What does a comp lit major even look like?”

“I dunno, but it’s you.”

He pursed his lips into a deadpan at your callback to what he'd said before, and you merely stuck your tongue out at him like the mature adult you were. “Touché, my friend. Touché…”

Silence passed between you two for the first time since you met each other. In the distance, you could hear the muffled sounds of the party raging on. It wasn't that you didn't go to parties often; it was more so that you usually went to house parties hosted by friends or friends-of-a-friend. Making it all the way to Greek Row was not something you did every weekend, but a mutual friend—Chungha—knew the ATZ president and got you and your friends in.

Nearly finished with his third bottle (or was it his fourth?...), Yeosang knocked the remainder down his throat with a grimace. With the empty bottle, he set it at his feet on the car floor to join another—the cup holders were already occupied with yours and his second rounds. The first was abandoned on the frat house lawn somewhere.

“I think—” he slurred, blinking slowly at you like a cat, “—that you look like an artist.”

“An artist?” You parroted dumbly and felt warmth rise to your cheeks. “And why would you say that? Vibes?”

“Well, yes!”

You sputtered out a laugh at the way he said that. “Then yes, I am an artist,” you said, emphasizing the latter half of the word so it sounded like “teest” and not “tist.”

Yeosang gave a hoot. “I'm so good at this. Does that—does that mean you can paint me like one of your French girls?” He pulled his lips into an adorable, little smile, the back of his hand poised beneath his chin as he fluttered his lashes.

“I don't think I could do you justice,” you admitted. There was a rather annoying buzz at the back of your brain that was distracting you. With a shake of your head, you refocused your gaze on him. “You're too pretty.”

He preened at the compliment, unconsciously reaching up to adjust his beanie. “Like calls to like then.”

“What does that mean?” Your buzzed-out brain couldn't compute—

“It means that prettiness is attracted to prettiness, and I'm attracted to you.”

You whined, burying your face in your hands. Yeosang giggled to himself, incredibly proud at making you flustered, his knees curling upward to kick his feet in the cramped space. “I don't like you.”

“You don't?”

“No,” you raised your head up with a displeased frown, only to see that his eyes seemed to be twinkling with unrestrained happiness and something else. You weren't in the right state to hyper-analyze the way he looked at you, but it made your heart skip more than just a beat. “It's not fair that you're a literature major.”

“But I'm drunk,” he said innocently.

“That's even worse!”

He grinned boyishly at you, bashfully stretching his limbs and then cupping the back of his neck with a hand. “What if I told you I'm minoring in math?”

You deadpanned. “I don't think that makes me feel any better. You rule both the realms of words and numbers.”

“It doesn't mean I'm good at math,” he guffawed, leaning back in his seat. “It's only there 'cause my mom's a math teacher, and having a math minor makes my parents feel better.”

That sounded familiar… awfully familiar. The thought made you sober a bit, and it seemed your counterpart wasn't so wasted that he didn't notice the shift either.

“Uh oh,” he chuckled nervously, “what'd I say?”

You waved your hand around dismissively. “Oh, it's nothing. I'm kind of the opposite—my bio major is sort of to appease my parents and the fine art minor is for my sanity.”

He pressed his lips into a line, nodding in understanding. “Ah, I see,” he drawled. “So you don't… you're not happy? With what you're doing, I mean.”

Maybe it was the way he asked it, but it made the cogs in your head turn. You bit your lip. “I'm happy-ish. It's kind of a lot, but I'll survive.”

“'m sorry I upset you,” he pouted. “But,” he stammered, swallowing, “but I get it. My parents never wanna talk about my major anymore. Pretty sure they're just bitter and disappointed. I always feel like I’m walking on eggshells around them.”

You could tell that it affected him more than he wanted to admit. You wordlessly passed him your half-drunk bottle, and he gladly took a generous sip. When it was back in your hands, you guzzled down the remainder.

The buzz was getting better.

“Well, if they're not proud of you, I am,” you declared, setting the empty bottle at your feet. Your eyes blinked slowly for a moment as you got your bearings again. Maybe… maybe you should stop drinking! Yes, that would be the smart thing to do.

Yeosang hummed. “Thanks,” he said with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He gazed over at you from his side of the car. “I'm proud of you, too. You'll be happy one day; it'll always turn out okay, Yn-ie.”

Something warm and fuzzy settled in your chest, like a cat had just curled up there, purring and content.

A thought suddenly popped into your head. “Yeosang, how do you like your eggs?”

He snorted and burst into laughter, coaxing a similar expression out of you. A moment later, you were trying your best to pout at him, “Hey! Don't laugh! I hear it's all the rage on the pick-up line scene.”

“You're trying to pick me up?” He giggled. All memories of the previous topic flew out the car window.

“Well, is it working?”

He licked his lips around a smile, leaning over the center console to rest his cheek against his fist. “Ask me again.”

You took another sip of your soju before returning it to its cupholder. “Okay. Yeosang, how do you like your eggs in the morning?”

“However you'd like them.”

You deadpanned, and that only made him laugh louder. His head tilted back so you caught a glimpse of his canines, before he brought himself back down to Earth. His cheeks looked as flushed as you felt—even in the dim streetlight you could make out the blooms of peony pink across his cheekbones. “Yeo.”

He reached over to pat your head a couple times, though the sloppiness of his movements made it feel closer to two affectionate smacks. “Okay okay. Sorry. How about we say it at the same time?”

“Okay.” That wasn't a bad compromise.

“Okay, one, two, three—”

“Sunny-side up,” you both said at once.

Your eyes and his eyes widened at once, gasps of delight sounding into the quiet car. Could this guy be any more perfect?

“You're not bluffing?” You asked with narrowed eyes.

Yeosang shook his head vigorously. “Mm-mm. I wouldn't lie to you, Yn-ie. Scout's honor,” he slurred, holding his hand up as if he was a boy scout.

You giggled at the gesture, and he broke form to melt into an ooey gooey puddle of liquefied butterflies. For a moment, he just stared at you with a strange look on his face, one that you couldn't quite place when you were in this inebriated state.

You chuckled, shifting your position when one leg started falling asleep. “What’s wr—?”

He leaned forward and—oh. Oh. Those were—his lips were on yours. He had leaned over the console and kissed you. He was kissing you.

And when you didn't kiss him back, he drew backwards, an embarrassed expression painted over the adorable flush on his cheeks. “That—I shouldn't have done that, should I? I'm sorry; I dunno what I was—”

You crushed your mouth against his this time, effectively stealing the apology right off his tongue. He tasted like melon soju, and his touch was gentle as he brought his hand up to cup the side of your face, cradle your jaw. He was tracing the outline of your features in the dark like he could sketch them in the lines in his mind.

He tasted like the color of amber, warm and bright, but not blindingly so. He was mellow and sweet, with the undertones of the burnt wood in his cologne.

You melded your lips against his mouth like you could engrave him into you, and you were practically half over the middle console already. Yeosang's free hand fumbled backward to find the button on the side of his chair—there. The chair began moving backward with a monotonous brrr sound, and as it moved you couldn't quite keep your lips physically attached to his.

You disconnected from him for what felt like an eternity in order to climb over—shoes knocking against empty soju bottles, ass nearly bumping the horn—and with some clumsy, awkward maneuvering, you were on him again, this time quite literally. You tumbled into his lap, his hands landing on either side of your waist and your hands bracing against the back of his chair.

He loosened a soft groan with the return of your lips to his, and he hauled you down closer to him, until your chests were pressed flush against one another and you couldn't tell which heartbeat was who's. His beanie fell off at some point, but your fingers buried themselves within the dark, silken mass of his hair, a hat in their own right.

When you both pulled away for breath, your chests heaved in tandem to catch it. You settled your cheek against his shoulder while you inhaled the smell of his cologne, much stronger now that you sat against his chest with your nose by his throat. His hand warmed the small of your back with the other cupping the back of your head in an affectionate cradle.

“I don't think I've ever kissed someone like that,” you admitted into the quiet. You suddenly couldn't hear the muffled music blasting from the party in the background anymore.

“Me neither,” he replied, voice hoarse from the kiss. “I've never met someone like you before.”

“Never in your life?”

“Never in my life.”

“So let me get this straight,” drawled Wooyoung with both hands poised at his temples, eyes screwed shut against the bright morning light coming in through the window. There were currently eight people crowded onto President Hongjoong's bed at a time that was far too early to be alive for a group of people who partied until four in the morning. “You're saying that you know this girl's family life, how she likes her eggs in the morning, and how she kisses—but you don't even know her name?”

Yeosang was propped up against the headboard, squeezed between a very unfairly serene-looking Seonghwa and a mildly hungover Hongjoong. Yeosang's bangs were flat against his forehead and he squinted his tired eyes through the strands. “No, that's not what I said. I said that I know her name… it's just not coming to me right now.”

He knew your name. Right? You told him your name, right? He addressed you by your name at least once last night, right?

(If he was being honest, as soon as Yeosang woke up this morning, he started whimsically recalling the events of last night in his head. But once he realized he neither had your number nor remembered your name, he jostled his friends up to invade the president's room for an emergency round table discussion. Who would have guessed their alarm clock would be a very panicked Maltese screaming, “I DON'T REMEMBER HER NAME!”)

“Which pretty much means you don't know her name,” Jongho piped up where he was laying against Yunho's back on the corner of the bed, his eyes closed while he attempted to squeeze in five more milliseconds of sleep.

“Well, do you know who she came with?” San asked. “She probably has at least one mutual friend or else she wouldn't have gotten in.”

Mingi furrowed his brows together. “Not necessarily. The pledges might not have been thorough when checking.”

Hongjoong's eyes narrowed. “You were supposed to be there with them at the door, Mingi.”

“Oh, was I?”

Yunho cut in before Hongjoong could tackle Mingi off the bed. He grinned to himself, “Okay, but San has a point. Usually people are only able to sneak in if they're with a group.”

“Awh,” Wooyoung cooed, reaching over to pinch at Yeosang's cheek, “Yeosangie fell in love with a stowaway—ow! Hey! He just bit me!”

“Deserved,” Seonghwa said plainly. He turned his head so as to not have to face Wooyoung's wounded puppy eyes. It was too early for this. “Do you know if she came with anyone, Yeosang-ah?”

Yeosang scrunched his nose up, disgruntled. “No. I'm pretty sure she was looking for her friends when we met… something like that. I remember some things, but not everything.” He pinched the place between his brows in an attempt to piece together his memory of last night. He could remember the way you made him feel—it was the jittery warmth that came with falling, and his heart had never grown wings before like it had around you.

After the kiss, the two of you had sunk into a comfortable, quiet conversation about anything and everything beneath the sun. For the first time in a long time, he felt comfortable and heard by someone other than his fraternity brothers. You were perfect, for lack of a better word. And he knew a lot of words.

But how could he fucking forget your name?

He was never drinking that much melon soju ever again.

“She's a biology major,” he offered with a defeated sigh, letting his hand fall into his lap.

“What does she look like?” Hongjoong asked.

Yeosang's gaze went up to the ceiling as he recalled what you looked like to his friends. It was pretty dark the entire time he was with you, but there were a few moments when the streetlights hit your face and his conscience was constantly trying to keep his drunk ass from kissing you within the first ten minutes of meeting you. He'd managed to hold it together for a little bit longer before throwing all caution to the wind.

When he was done, San said in light amusement, “I'm just surprised you kissed her first. She must be something then, huh?”

Yeosang couldn't conceal the smile that slowly crept onto his face. “Yeah, she's…” He cleared his throat. “I just don't want last night to be the first and last time I see her.” It couldn't be—just when he thought he clicked with someone, the universe couldn't possibly be so cruel as to rip you away from him, could it?

“Don't you worry!” Mingi chirped, “We'll help you find your passenger princess.”

Seonghwa snorted. “Passenger princess? What is this, Cinderella?”

“It might as well be,” San chuckled, lifting his shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “Operation: Passenger Princess is a go!”

Yeosang wasn't sure if recruiting his friends’ help was a good or awful decision. But because his past, drunk self hadn't done many favors for his future, sober self, he would take all the help he could get.

You knew the moment you stumbled out of your bedroom and saw your roommate that you were in trouble. It wasn't trouble in the conventional sense; considering her eyes were laughing as she watched your pitiful walk of shame from your room to the shared bathroom, you knew you were not going to hear the end of everything that happened last night ever.

“Not a word,” you said to her as you winced at the blinding bathroom lights.

Her toothbrush hung out of her mouth as she slipped in behind you to spit her toothpaste into the sink. When her mouth was rinsed and clear, she made eye contact with you in the mirror, eyebrows wagging up and down. “So you and Yeosang, huh?”

You glared at her from around your own toothbrush. You would have taken the damn thing out to defend yourself, but you were already late.

Reina took full advantage of your occupied vocal chords. “I never knew pretty frat boys were your type, Yn,” she teased, practically floating out of the bathroom to go check on the state of her espresso in the kitchen.

“Aye hae yuu,” you grumbled around your toothbrush.

“What's that?” She cackled, bringing a hand up to the shell of her ear. “I love you? I love you, too, Yn. But you know who else loves you?—”

“Dompt shae it.”

“Yeosaaaang!”

You loathed the fact that her saying such things made butterflies flap their wings and dance around in your belly. It was simply delusional to think of love when all you and Yeosang did last night was make out in his car and accompany each other in deep, provoking conversation… conversation that definitely didn't make you feel incredibly seen or anything… definitely not.

Finally, you were able to spit your toothpaste out to make your argument. “Okay, first of all, I don't even have his number. And—how could he love me?” As if possession of a phone number could even correlate to love either.

Reina paused, her expression arranging into loud incredulity. “You what? After all I went through to separate the two of you to go home, you didn't exchange numbers?”

Okay, so maybe you shouldn't have disclosed that information—now you just looked stupid.

You lathered up facial cleanser in your hands and on your face. “Look. Exchanging numbers was just the last thing on our minds—” Oh, Yn. Have you ever said something smart?

Reina snorted. “Oh, I know.”

“We didn't just make out,” you grumbled, your cheeks warming beneath your hands. You furiously splashed cool water over your skin before patting your face dry. There likely wasn't much time left before you and Reina had to run to meet your other friends at your weekly volunteering session. “We talked.”

“Uh-huh, and you know that denial is a river in Egypt, right?”

Suffice to say that Reina most definitely did not let your shenanigans from last night go. The two of you managed to reach the food bank sometime before fifteen minutes past your original start time. Everyone else was already stationed and on time, and because you and Reina were the last to arrive, you were sent straight to dishwashing.

As you and Reina pulled on your twin pairs of pink rubber gloves, your friend Mark Lee (and brother with the NCT fraternity) barrelled into the backroom with a dirty ladle in his hands. His head perked up at the sight of you both, a smile blooming on his face. “Well, good morning, Party Animals. How was the ATZ party last night?”

He deposited the ladle into the sink for you to wash while he went to go find a clean one.

“It was cool, but I think Yn would love to tell you all about her experience,” Reina teased, bumping her elbow against your side.

Mark sidled up beside the two of you and leaned in close in proper tea-spilling fashion. “Oh my gosh, did something happen?”

You scowled at Reina, then said to Mark, “Nothing catastrophic—”

“She hooked up with Yeosang!”

You cut her a hard glance. “Reina, I don't think Neptune heard you.”

Mark's eyes went comically wide, jaw slackening. “Yn and Yeosang? That's so wild. Like—like Kang Yeosang?”

“I think? We didn't exactly exchange last names, but why would it be wild? We just kissed and talked.”

“Who kissed who now?” The new voice had you all glancing back over to the kitchen door where another member of the group, Yura, walked in. Yura was Reina's cousin, and the two grew up quite close, so it was natural that they ended up in similar social circles. You and all your other friends got along pleasantly with her. She flashed you all a small smile. “From the sounds of it, I'm guessing you guys had a fun time at the party last night?”

“We did!” Reina chirped.

“Shame you couldn't come with us this time,” you said offhandedly. It wasn't like Yura to miss a party.

Reina cocked her head to the side. “I could've sworn I saw you there though—”

“Ah,” Yura waved her hand to dismiss her cousin's thought. She chuckled, “You're probably mistaking someone else as me; I had that paper I needed to work on last night, remember? But Yn, you and Yeosang?”

You groaned. “I thought we were over this.”

“Dude, we can't not get over this,” Mark quipped back. “Yeosang just doesn't do stuff like that—hook up with people, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Yura chimed in, “I've seen him at a couple other Greek parties with some of my sorority friends and he looks pretty standoffish most of the time. He's usually always with one of his brothers. He's kind of cold, really.”

Mark furrowed his brows. “I wouldn't call him cold; he's just a little shy, is all.”

“My friends told me that a lot of sorority girls chase after him,” Yura said with wide eyes. “They get, like, aggressive about him or something.”

You and Reina exchanged a look. Was that who he was running from last night? “That must be kinda stressful,” you said softly with a small frown.

“Apparently, that's why his social medias don't take DMs unless approved,” she shrugged.

Well, there went your backup plan of finding him on social media. Then again, if he recognized you or your name, would that help if you requested him? That was if you deigned to change your profile picture to yourself and not one of your silly doodles.

You couldn't help the weight that your heart seemed to gain as it sank to the pit of your stomach.

“Well, that's mildly disappointing,” Reina muttered, turning to quickly wash the ladle Mark had just dropped off.

“I just wouldn't want you to get targeted by any of those crazy sorority girls, y'know?” Yura gave a laugh that sounded almost nervous. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before snapping on a fresh pair of gloves.

You nodded, gnawing on your bottom lip. “Yeah, no, I—I get it. Thanks, Yura.”

She gave you a sympathetic look. “Of course,” she said. With a wave, she made her way back toward the kitchen door. “Mark, we better get back to work. See you guys at lunch break!”

When she was gone, Mark clapped a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Hey, listen. I don't really know the guy personally, but me and Wooyoung are pretty tight. I can get in touch with them if you want—”

Baekhyun, the section leader for your session, charged into the kitchen with his arm piled high with dirty dishes. If you didn’t fear for the safety of the porcelain bowl at the top of the stack, you might have chuckled at the scene before you. “Mark! We don't pay you to stand around.”

“Hyung,” Mark huffed exasperatedly as he rushed over to help Baekhyun before the section leader could get knocked over the head by a rogue dish assisted by gravity. “You don't pay us. We're here out of the goodness of our hearts.”

“Well, I don't get paid enough for this,” Baekhyun said once all the dishes were transferred to the sink, and you and Reina were put to work. “Now come on; lots to do!”

Just as Mark was about to follow after Baekhyun, he caught your eyes. “I'm serious about the offer, Yn.”

You smiled. “Thanks, man, but let me think about it and I'll get back to you.”

“Yeah, just lemme know!” And he was gone.

Word broke out that someone in the ATZ household was searching for a girl. Word of mouth was a method of dissemination that could spread like wildfire, leaping from one tongue to one ear to another, leaving only ash and debris behind. And around Greek Row, it became a massive game of Telephone.

But while nearly everyone in the university's fraternities and sororities knew about his strife, Yeosang’s efforts seemed to be for naught. The only thing that emerged from this were more people harping after him, claiming to be 'the one he was looking for.’ None of them were you.

Your name had manifested itself in his head about halfway into the week. He'd been toiling over the theory readings his professor assigned for Thursday's lecture when he'd underlined a word, and it came crashing down upon him with ice cold clarity.

His eyes went wide as he shot up out of his chair, nearly sending Jongho careening off his bed on the other side of the room. “What the—”

“Yn,” Yeosang said. Then he declared a little louder, a giddy smile on his face, triumphant and bright, “Her name is Yn.”

Jongho resettled himself on top of his bed. “Well that narrows things down for us,” he drawled, taking his phone out and typing something out. “I don't suppose you have her last name.”

Yeosang fwumped onto the edge of his bed with his lips pressed into a line. “Dude. I literally just thought of her first name. Do you really think I can come up with—”

“Okay, okay,” Jongho laughed, flicking his wrist at him for a moment before resuming his typing.

“Who're you texting?” Yeosang asked as curiosity drew him across the room to Jongho's side.

His friend sat up so he could peer over his shoulder at the phone screen. “I'm doing the heavy lifting,” he teased. Based on the social media handle at the top of the direct messages channel, Jongho was texting Chungha, a friend of the frat's but a closer friend of President Hongjoong's, and the recently graduated head of the Phi Omega Phi sorority. “Hongjoong hyung mentioned offhandedly that Chungha wanted to get some friends into the party on Friday, so I'm seeing if she recognizes this Yn person you're looking for.”

Yeosang’s eyebrows flicked upward as he settled into a more comfortable position on Jongho’s bed while they awaited Chungha’s response. In the meantime, he pulled out his own phone in an attempt to search for your name amongst his mutuals. He frowned at the lack of a successful search—did you use a different name or did you not have a social media account? Was that why you hadn’t attempted to contact him in the past few days?

For a moment, a shard of self-consciousness pierced through his chest at the prospect that you didn’t want to contact him. Did sobriety make you embarrassed at what happened that night? Had he made you uncomfortable with the amount of vulnerability that was in the car—no, the vulnerability was mutual… but maybe—

“Gotcha.”

Yeosang’s head whipped back over to Jongho’s screen. Having your name and major seemed to ring a bell for Chungha, and she forwarded a social media handle, along with a “tell Yeosang good luck ;)”.

“Thank you, Jongho. And bless up, Chungha,” Yeosang muttered as he swiftly input the social media handle into his search bar. There it was—a private art account with your first name in the biography line. There were only one or two people who you both shared mutuals with, which made sense.

His thumb hovered over the request button, and he bit his lip. With little else left to do and his heart banging around in his ribs from the anticipation alone, he clicked the button.

It didn’t take you incredibly long to accept his follow request and to follow him back. (Though, half an hour felt like an eternity when he was so anxious.) He made it painfully obvious that you acted in response, because Yeosang fumbled his phone between his palms like it was a hot potato, before he dropped it and stubbed his toe with it.

Jongho sent him a strange look as he handed the device back to a red-faced Yeosang, who furrowed his brows together to think of an opening direct message to you.

“It doesn't have to be perfect,” Jongho said as he peered over Yeosang's shoulder this time. He had even paused the game he was playing on his phone to stay tuned into the live entertainment.

Yeosang made a face. “Yes, it does.” It had to be the perfect mix of witty and funny and subtle and—

He figured it out.

@/yskang99: how do u like ur eggs?

Jongho released a sound of utter flabbergast, and Yeosang shushed him, both pairs of eyes pinned to the three dots that appeared on the bottom left-hand side of the screen.

@/studioyn: sunny side up

Yeosang broke into a smile, and Jongho's face contorted into pure incredulity. “What kind of security question is that?”

“Inside joke,” Yeosang replied giddily, rising from Jongho's bed to cross over to his side of the room. He collapsed into his desk chair and propped his feet up along the end of his bed.

Jongho scoffed, shifting his lounging position. He threw his friend another incredulous glance before giving up and returning to his game. He'd done his job.

@/yskang99: congrats u passed the test!

@/studioyn: ahh so that was a test? i imagined us doing a virtual handshake tbh

@/yskang99: i like that better actually

@/studioyn: also how did u find me lmao

Yeosang bit his lip through a grin. I have my ways, he typed out cryptically, cheekily.

@/studioyn: wtvr u say ig… 🤨🤨🤨

For a brief moment, Yeosang wondered if he should bring up the concern lingering in his mind—why you hadn't reached out to him. He didn't want to simply assume that he was “popular” enough that just anybody knew who he was, but he was also aware that most people were able to track him down on social media. But would that kill the vibe? He liked the energy.

@/studioyn: i can't get a read on whether or not ur any different than how u were drunk

@/yskang99: would that matter?

@/studioyn: not particularly, no, but i've met people who r

@/yskang99: no i get that, i've met my fair share too :/

He began typing out slowly: I missed you… Then he swiftly amended it to: I missed talking to you.

@/studioyn: awhh wait ik we've only technically spoken the one time, but i missed talking to u too yeo :’)

A smile split his face from ear to ear. Would you wanna hang out again? Only if you're comfortable, of course.

He watched the three dots appear, then disappear. You were thinking and his heart was sinking.

Finally, your response came in. I'd love to, but I don't wanna disappoint you with my god awful schedule this next week.

@/yskang99: what abt the weekend? something low stakes maybe?

@/yskang99: my brothers and i r going to the nct house on sat

@/studioyn: oh!! im actually close friends w mark lee :] i'll see if i can drag my friends along, and we can link up there?

The thought of seeing you again, even if it was at another dumb Greek party, made electricity zip through his veins. His stomach filled to the brim with butterflies, and he had to shift his position because of how much it tickled.

@/yskang99: yeah sounds great :D i'll look forward to seeing u

@/studioyn: same here yeo :’))

@/studioyn: how's ur week been so far?

Yeosang leaned back in his chair again, propping his elbows on the armrests to sink into a comfortable position. He had a feeling he might be here awhile, but he would sit here all night if it meant talking to you.

“Yn! We're gonna be late!”

You nearly jolted at the sound of Reina's voice carrying through the other side of your bedroom door. You dropped your phone onto your bed, racing to finish up the rest of your makeup. “You can never be late to a Greek party!” You countered, swiping your thumb over the pigment you just put on your lips.

Your bedroom door opened just as you were slipping a chain necklace around your collar. Reina poked her head in, her eyes looking you up and down. “Ooh-la-la,” she gushed with a teasing smile. “Someone's gotten all dolled up. I wonder who for…”

You rolled your eyes and ignored the obvious warmth rising to your face. “I just felt like it,” you defended weakly while spritzing a light mist of perfume over your neck and wrists. You stood up from your desk to collect your wallet, keys, and lip gloss to dump into a purse, then went over to retrieve your phone.

The screen displayed another message from Yeosang, no doubt continuing the conversation you had to abruptly pause because you would be late for the NCT party. This was going to be the second Greek party in two weeks—a record for your books. But you had a feeling it was going to be a good time like last week, you were sure of it.

As you skimmed the message Yeosang sent, you slipped out of the room to join Reina in the main living space. She casted you a pointed look with arms crossed over her chest and lips pressed together.

“What?” You blinked over at her innocently.

“You're never gonna see your boy at this rate,” she said as the two of you picked out your shoes for the night.

You sent a text answering Yeosang and letting him know you would be at the party soon. “He's not 'my boy,’” you said.

“Right. He's your man.”

You hated how hard it was to keep the giggle in your throat down. It was embarrassing how you smiled just then, too, turning your head away from a smug Reina.

God, he was just a guy; how did you get so head-over-heels after just one night? It had to be the fact that you'd been texting him nonstop over the past few days. Though you were busy and exhausted, you continued to check your phone all throughout the days and stayed up long into the nights just to talk to him. He had you hook, line, and sinker.

At some point, you'd forgotten what Yura warned you about on Saturday.

Your friends picked you and Reina up in one of their family minivans. A round of greetings went up as you clambered in behind Reina, and your friend asked where her cousin was tonight if she wasn't carpooling with the rest of you.

“She said she was at her sorority friend's house,” Sieun said offhandedly from the driver's seat. The minivan door closed on its own with a mechanical whirring sound. “She's probably at the party already.”

Some nights, parties called for a pregame session, while others (not unlike this one) was attacked raw. Sieun parked the minivan about a block outside of Greek row where there were spaces between cars along the curbs and where there was less of a chance of her accidentally running over a drunk partygoer stumbling into the street. The party was already in full swing with neon green strobe lights blazing aggressively through the front windows, and Gasolina blasting at nothing less than one hundred percent speaker volume.

You felt your phone vibrate in your hand as Reina grabbed your hand to avoid instantly losing you in the crowd.

@/yskang99: im on the second floor where there's less people 😋😋 they've got a nice balcony we can hide on!!

“Mark said they've got spiked Capri Sun somewhere in here!” Reina shouted into your ear.

You nodded your head vigorously. “Let's find it then!”

@/studioyn: gonna grab hard caprisun and then head up!! do u want some??

@/yskang99: surprise me w a flavor, pretty pls x

You grinned to yourself and slid your phone into your purse to focus on the task at hand.

The NCT fraternity house wasn't a completely unknown landscape to you and Reina. Being friends with one of its brothers and friends-by-association with all the rest, you'd popped by more than a few times. You could likely navigate this house with your eyes closed; that was what it was like weaving through the dark rooms and throngs of people squeezed together like sardines in a can, anyway.

Along yours and Reina's trek to the kitchen, you gained a couple people in your conga line of linked hands, NCT's own Xiaojun and Jungwoo. NCT frat brothers always pregamed, so the two brothers were already tipsy and giggled about your kindergarten field trip line (with Reina being dubbed the poor kindergarten teacher tasked with keeping you together).

When you arrived at your destination, it didn't take long for you to lose both Xiaojun and Jungwoo to the game of Texas Hold 'Em being played at the breakfast table. The singular lightbulb overheard made it feel like a smoke-filled backdoor gambling den.

“Aha!” You cheered after playing a game of mystery cooler roulette, and opened the cooler lid that held the spiked Capri Sun juice pouches on ice.

“Mine!” Reina snatched up the last cherry flavored one, the shiny aluminum slippery and ice-cold as she impaled the opening with the thin, yellow straw.

You grabbed a Pacific Cooler flavored pouch for yourself, and a second for Yeosang.

“Ah, is that for the man of your dreams?” Reina said between sips, her pouch already half empty.

You sent her a look. “He has good taste, which means he'll probably appreciate Pacific Cooler as much as I do.”

“As long as it's not lemonade,” came a voice to your left. There stood a rather tall and lean man, his warm smile enunciated by the dim kitchen lighting as the green strobe lights from the living room painted across his face. “I can't deal with sour shit,” he explained, making a face.

You laughed. “That's valid. Fruit Punch is a classic though.”

“Can't argue with that,” he replied, leaning down to pick his poison for the night. He stabbed a straw into his pouch of strawberry kiwi juice, then arched an eyebrow at you. “I feel like I know you. Do I know you?”

“Hey,” Reina chimed in as she leaned over your shoulder, “you're with the ATZ frat, aren't you? I recognize you from Twister last week.”

He smiled sheepishly from around his straw. “Ah… haha, not my best moment, but yes. I'm Yunho.”

“Reina,” your friend replied.

“Yn,” you added on.

Yunho's expression jerked as if he'd just been delivered an electric shock. He waved his pointer finger at you. “Oh my god, you're Yeosang's girl!”

Your eyes shuddered in surprise. Yeosang's girl. “Sorry?” You stammered. There was an insane amount of possessive pronouns being used tonight, buy you definitely weren't complaining about it, and could he perhaps say that again—

“Yeah, he won't shut up about you.” Yunho slurped up the rest of his juice pouch, draining and flattening the life out of it in record time. “He loves Pacific Cooler, by the way.”

He took his leave then, saying nothing else to you and Reina except for shooting you a pair of finger guns like saying 'go get em, tiger!’

Reina wheezed, draping herself over you for a moment. “Oh—my god! Good thing Yeosang's just as down in the trenches as you are.”

“Don't do this to me, Reina,” you whined and dragged her along out of the kitchen toward the second floor staircase. “I don't need encouragement; the crush is enough!”

“It's never enough,” she declared with her pointer finger up in the sky. “You are gone, my friend! Gone, I say.”

You patted her head as you both began your ascent up the stairs. “Alrighty; then gone, I am. Do you remember where the balcony is on this floor?”

She hummed. “Ooh! Somewhere by Johnjae's room, abouts. I just remember because Mark told us how—”

“Right—the sophomore year Romeo and Juliet reenactment,” you snorted. You couldn't wrap your head around the batshit crazy things that occurred around these parts. “Who convinced Doyoung to play Paris anyway?”

She made a noncommittal noise. “Must've been bribed—oh, there it is, but I think there's a couple out there already…”

There was most definitely a couple on the balcony. Their outlines were silhouettes against the residual strobe lights shining up from downstairs, so it was a little too dark to make out who they were. They seemed close—the girl was all over the boy, the latter trying to hold her up by her waist. Maybe she'd had too much to drink, and for a moment, you were glad someone was taking care of her.

But when she leaned in for a kiss, green light glanced across their faces to reveal their features to you. It was only a split second, but it was all you needed.

“Reina,” you exhaled in shock, turning away from the balcony with enough speed to nearly give you whiplash.

She didn't question you, as you both careened back down the hall from where you came from, heading for one of the open bedrooms on this floor to collect yourselves. When the two of you were out of earshot of the balcony, she hissed under her breath in utter disbelief, “Yura?”

You'd seen it nearly clear as day, too. That was Yura kissing Yeosang.

Your head spun as you shouldered your way into Mark's and Haechan's room, their names plastered on the door in foam letter stickers from the craft store. As Reina closed the door and turned on the lights, you sat down in Mark's desk chair attempting to make sense of what you and Reina just witnessed.

Yeosang and Yura? But wasn't Yura the one who warned you that chasing after Yeosang was a risk because of how many others were, as well? Why would…

Oh.

Well, now you just felt stupid.

Reina dragged over Haechan's desk chair to settle in front of you, her expression less enraged than before, and more concerned over what she was reading off of your face. “Hey, don't do that. Don't think like that.”

“You don't know what I'm thinking,” you murmured, setting the untouched juice pouches on the desk.

“You're thinking that you're stupid.”

“Okay, maybe you do know what I'm thinking.” You inhaled, then exhaled slowly, leaning forward onto your knees. “I don't really know what to think or assume.”

Reina nodded, chewing on her bottom lip. “That's okay. I don't think I really understand what I saw either.”

“But that was Yura, right?”

She bobbed her head again. “That was my cousin, yeah.”

“Would it be fair to even think that she told me all that shit last week to discourage me from seeing him?” You didn't enjoy thinking that another person would have such malicious intentions without understanding their point of view, especially someone you considered yourself friends with.

“Well,” Reina drawled, “I think we both saw what we saw, and Yura was acting strangely about it on Saturday. It would be fair if you were hurt by it; I think your feelings have been clear.”

You gave a small nod. “Do you think he…?”

“I'm not sure, hon.”

You resolved to talk to him about it. If anything, you had these juice pouches left to console yourself, but you wanted to make sure you knew where his feelings laid. You would be lying if you said your heart didn't harbor even a glimmer of hope that this was all a misunderstanding, and that the kiss was an accident and didn't matter.

You and Reina left the relative safety of Mark and Haechan's bedroom to go find Yeosang. There weren't any new messages between either of you since the Capri Sun exchange, and you thought about texting him on his whereabouts.

The balcony by Johnny and Jaehyun's room was empty now, barren of any evidence somebody was there in the first place.

You and Reina wandered back down to the main floor. The party was nowhere near over; the night was still young. Hope was sinking fast in your stomach as the two of you traveled from room to room in search of him, but with no luck. Even asking around was useless.

“Text him,” Reina encouraged, as the two of you sipped on the juice pouches that were supposed to be for you and him.

She held your spiked juice while you texted him.

As time passed, and a response had yet to come through, you tossed yours and Reina's flattened Capri Sun pouches into the nearest garbage can.

If he wasn't going to answer, then maybe you would just go home for the night. You had a lot to think about.

Defeated, you let Reina sweep you under her arm and guide you to the front door. “Let's go home, hm?” She said, rubbing your shoulder.

On your way to the front door, you paused. You thought you heard someone calling your name—

You turned around to find Mark barreling toward you through the crowd with another guy at his side. “Mark?” You shouted over the music.

“Hey, we've been looking all over for you,” he said. Nodding to his friend, he told you, “This is Wooyoung, by the way, the ATZ brother I'm friends with.”

“Yeosang's been looking for you,” Wooyoung said in earnest, eyes as wide as Mark's. Had they been looking for you as much as you were looking for Yeosang?

Something like hope sparked in your chest again—you were at odds. The fight had nearly dissipated from your blood and you were ready to go home. But if he was trying to find you… it must be worth it then, right?

“Where is he?” You asked.

It was nearing midnight by the time you settled yourself on the concrete curb outside the ATZ frat house just down the block from the target being thrown at the NCT house. With everyone over there, no wonder it was quiet enough to finally hear yourself think. With the coming of deep autumn, a slight breeze wafted by that drifted over your skin and raised goosebumps on your arms.

You heard gravel crunching from behind you, coming down the ATZ driveway, and before you could turn your head to look, a warm jacket was placed over your shoulders. You held your breath, fingers finding the lapel to keep it from slipping as you glanced over at your counterpart.

Yeosang lowered himself onto the curb next to you, mimicking your position with his knees bent and arms resting upon them. “I—my phone died,” he said lowly.

“Oh.” That took care of at least two of your questions.

“Is there—” He stopped himself, amending his statement, “There's something on your mind.”

Understatement of the century. You pulled his jacket around you, the intertwining scents of alcohol and his cologne lingering on the collar. “I was going to meet you at the balcony, and I was there, but… but I saw you and Yura, and…”

It was his turn to say “oh.” He angled his body toward you now until his knees bumped against yours and he was muttering out an apology he didn't need to say. He laid his upper body over his arms that were folded onto his knees and peered up at you through lengthy lashes.

He was waiting for you to finish.

You swallowed, following his lead and turning your body toward him. “I saw her kiss you,” you said, the sound barely audible to anybody but you and him. “Reina and I went somewhere to kind of just soak in what we saw, and then we went back out to find you so I could talk to you about it, but we couldn't find you.”

“I'm sorry you had to see that,” he murmured, eyebrows furrowed together. “It—it didn't mean anything. She did try to kiss me, but I pushed her away before she could.”

You believed him. You loosened a small chuckle from your lips. “Y'know, it sounds silly to me now, but last week she told me that there were a number of girls who were pursing you and were very aggressive about it.”

He snorted. “If there were any, I only know of one.”

“She…?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, lips pursing. “I know she's liked me for a while, but I've made it clear I don't see her the same way. At last Friday's party, I was actually trying to lose her in the crowd when I found you.”

Your eyes widened. “So she was there?” Then Reina had actually seen her cousin at the party; Yura had lied about where she was.

“She told me tonight that she was scared about me liking you more than her,” Yeosang said as he lifted his body back up to rest his cheek against his fist. “She was really drunk—which was why you probably saw me trying to hold her up—and then she… tried to kiss me. I pushed her away, and one of her friends found us, so I handed her over and went to get some air.”

And that was why you couldn't find him. You released a breath you didn't realize you were holding in. “Are you—are you okay? I'm so sorry she did that to you.”

The corners of his lips tugged upward in a reassuring smile. “I'm alright, thank you. And it's not your fault.”

“I know, but still,” you insisted. “Your boundaries were violated, and it makes me feel so icky that I've called her a friend of mine, and—what?”

Your words came to a screeching halt when you realized that Yeosang was just smiling at you. Or rather, gazing at you, admiring you. It was whatever he did whenever his eyes possessed a set of twin jewels in his irises that needed no light to glitter like gold; and when his grin softened at the corners by a tenderness that knocked the wind out of you, all words and systems failed you.

You recognized this look, except this time, you weren't drunk.

“I'm really happy I met you,” he said in your silence. “And I'm happy I got to see you again.”

You nearly melted. You smiled back at him, replying quietly, “Couldn’t have said it any better. Thank you for being honest with me.”

“And thank you for believing me.” He reached for your hand, his movements slow as if giving you an opening to pull back if you wanted to. But you didn't, and you closed the remaining space to link your fingers and press your palms together.

You and Yeosang shared mutual smiles in the dim lighting outside his fraternity house. Your heart beat had quickened a considerable amount now that he was so close to you again.

You cleared your throat. "Just to be clear though—when you said she was scared about you liking me more than her—?"

His smile reached his eyes and turned them into upturned crescent moons. "I'm not scared," he said, "that I like you more than I have ever liked her." By a landslide.

Your heart gave a lurch in your chest. "Good," you smiled. "That's good, because I like you a whole lot, too."

“Do you wanna get out of here?” Yeosang inclined his chin toward where his car was parked a couple vehicles down. “Properly this time, now that we're not completely wasted?”

You laughed. “I would love nothing more.”

Pleased, he helped you to your feet. You must have stood up far too quickly though, because the blood rushed up to your head in a riptide current. You swore as the vertigo hit you, and your footing stumbled.

“Woah, careful there, pretty,” he murmured, his low voice by your ear as he steadied you with one hand pressed between your shoulder blades and the other around your waist.

Oh, there went your heart… it flew up to halo around Yeosang's head, and it wasn't yours anymore—

“You okay?” He mused.

You cleared your throat, straightening. “Yeah, I'm great,” you said sheepishly, ducking your head toward your chest.

A warm, fond chuckle left his mouth. “Cute,” he murmured. He lifted your chin up so you would look at him, his eyes darting down toward your mouth, and yours mirroring his movements. “I was wondering…”

“You can kiss me,” you blurted out, ignoring the utter leap in your pulse and the heat crawling up the back of your neck.

You tasted his smile as he leaned over to seal his mouth over your own, a long awaited return to the place that felt just right. You breathed him in, inhaled him, devoured him whole—you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer just as his hands pressed you flush against him.

In the distance against the heavy house music in the background, a cheer went up into the night sky.

You and Yeosang parted only to crane your heads in the direction of the noise, only to find what looked like a gathering of your friends and his friends hooting and applauding like it was New Years.

“OPERATION: PASSENGER PRINCESS WINS!” The guy from earlier, Wooyoung, practically howled up at the sky.

You pressed your face against Yeosang's shoulder as he groaned. “I am so sorry about them,” he chuckled through a grimace, lips grazing over your crown.

You laughed along with him. “My friends are also among the guilty party, Yeo.”

He kept his arm around your waist and you kept your head against his shoulder as the two of you walked away from your friends and toward his car. Contentment curled itself up over your chest again, and it nestled in deep, as if it planned to stay awhile.

“By the way,” you piped up as he unlocked his car.

“Mhm?”

You opened the passenger side door and leaned over the top of it to ask, “What the hell is Operation: Passenger Princess?”

Yeosang sputtered out a laugh and his cheekbones burned red. “How about we save that for our third date?”

You blinked, lips parting.

Yeosang grinned impishly. “Close that mouth, pretty, or I'll close it for you.”

Your jaw snapped closed, and his laugh echoed against the houses along this street. You climbed into the car after him, flustered beyond words. “I don't like you,” was all you could come up with.

“I'm sure you don't.”

a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if you enjoyed! also, the plan is to try and write another wooyo frat au as well, so pray for me...

atz m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @luumiinaa @tinkerbell460 @meosjinn @hyunjaespresent-deobi @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @floatingpluto @gyulfriend @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @soonyoungblr @justanotherkpopstanlol @kangfication @pxppxrminty @fluorescentloves @haechansbbg @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @mars101 @synthwxve @empire-x @kflixnet @atzhouse @cromernet

#atzhouse #cromernet #kflixnet #ateez x reader #kang yeosang x reader #yeosang x reader #ateez oneshot #ateez drabbles #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #yeosang fluff #yeosang imagines #yeosang oneshot #yeosang drabbles #yeosang scenarios #rager: you can't out rage us

307 notes · View notes

merlinssassybeard · 11 months

Text

'Ex' Husband Gojo - Better without me

Part 2 || series masterlist

Tags- gojo x fem reader, angst, fluff

Synopsis- A look at Gojo's feelings for his now estranged wife. While his wife goes through a breakdown

7th December, 2016

It was Satoru's 27th birthday.

Satoru knew but it really wasn't his priority honestly. Besides, he's not really in a mental state to even think of it.

He recalls how you, his wife, would plan various different things each year for his birthday. You, his joy and the light of his dim life.

All gone now...

Gojo had finished his mission overseas as soon as he could and returned back to Tokyo to submit reports of the mission and then again had to leave for his next mission in Seoul, South Korea.

He was aware of the incident with you just a day ago. Shoko had told him that it was just dehydration which caused a little fever and that everything's okay.

Gojo wasn't convinced. He didn't knew why, even when he wanted to believe Shoko, his six eyes indicated otherwise. They tell him there's more and Shoko probably knows but staying quiet.

Satoru had a few hours in his hand before leaving for the Airport check in by 4 am.

He decided he'd go to the Estate, which now belonged to you (not legally). He wanted to drop by the souvenirs from that particular day since he didn't really got any chance to.

Satoru Gojo is very prideful and quite egoistic and that is no secret. One day, his pride and ego will be the death of him.

7th December 2016 || 1 am

Satoru arrived at the Estate.

The air felt heavy but he went in anyways. Flashes of that day playing endlessly in his head. How everything unfolded and how you ran after him to stop him but his infinity barred you. Satoru feels guilty.

He usually doesn't have any guilt or regret regarding anything but with you... its different. He shouldn't have just walked away maybe. Maybe talking to you and trying to understand you where you're coming from would've helped.

He enters the house and is welcomed by the sleepy head staff.

"Welcome back Lord Satoru. Shall i prepare your room? I'll warm the food-", the head staff, Mr Kawaguchi, asked.

"No need", "is y/n asleep? How's she doing?", Satoru asked as if didn't even hear what Mr Kawaguchi said.

"Yes, Lord Satoru, Lady y/n is better now.", he said and started guiding Gojo to the room where you resided, "Lady y/n had trouble sleeping so the doctor had prescribed some sleeping pills"

Both of them reached outside your room. Satoru ordered the Mr Kawaguchi to leave him.

Satoru closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying his best to suppress his intrusive thoughts of hugging you and tell you that he's sorry (something he would never utter), have a conversation with you to figure things out on what is the root cause of such an abrupt bringing up of something as hideous as a Divorce.

He opened the sliding doors and entered the room for the first time after the last time he'd been here.

You were sleeping on your back with your arms all around and legs in another direction, trying to cover all of the space of the bed as much as you could.

This was your marital bed. A bed custom made to fit the giant 6'4 of a husband of yours.

But now it was just you...

He looked around the room. Recalling the old times, the 4 years of marriage he had.

What a blissful dream it was... just you and him against the world. Deep in love, exploring new things together. The warmth of your palm on his, your blushing cheeks whenever he kissed your lips before leaving for his missions. The nights that he had spent in your warmth on this very bed, in this very room. Old times when you slept in the protection of his big strong arms or when he picked you up from the bed and threw you into the water filled bathtub...

Blissful times indeed...

A smile had crept on Satoru's lips because the memories.

He placed the bag of souvenirs by the bedside table and leaned down to look at your face.

Dark circles, slight hollow cheeks, bony hands, piles and piles of medications.

'Oh what have you done y/n', he thinks looking at you.

If he had to be honest, he's never been this vulnerable in his life like he is now. So many emotions flooding him that he couldn't help but remove his dark glasses and lean down to your face.

He placed his hands gently caressing your soft hair and dropped a kiss on your forehead.

You were lost in your dreams and Satoru was in his. His dreams where he had you and took better care of you and did everything right.

But that's just a dream. A dream with no scope of fulfillment...

He knew this is the last and final time he'll see you this up close.

"Y/n.." he whispered, "I hope you find-", he struggled to say any further but still got himself to say it, "I hope you find someone better who will give you a better life... that i failed too."

Satoru couldn't bear to look at you any further from this moment. He gave his blessings to you for a better life and left that instant.

He knew he won't stop you from leaving if... no, when thats what you want. A person who loves, will never hold their lover captive against their will.

And that's what Satoru believes in...

It was 8am in the morning.

You were sitting in your bed, wrapped in the thick blankets while sipping your soup that your attendant brought while Shoko sat in the gray arm chair beside your bed reading newspaper.

Shoko has been visiting you every morning and evening to check up on you whether you're taking your pills timely and also to give you company considering the fact that you barely have any friends.

Your only friend, if you have to name with whom you would share everything would be Shoko and Mariko Zenin (whom you befriended during Clan meetings.).

You saw today's date.

'7th December', it read.

"Shoko... its his birthday today...", you mumbled with your head bowed

Shoko looked at you and she could see it, all the emotions that reflected on your face.

She wanted to confront you that why don't you tell him that it was all but a mistake afterall didn't he try to persuade you? So this should be easy?

She knew though this isn't the right time because you're still recovering but she couldn't hold herself...

"Y/n", Shoko began and you looked up at her.

"Y/n why don't you tell him about it? He has all the right to know you know! Didn't you say he persuaded you to not to leave? And you don't want to leave either!" She made a point. "So just call... this weird thing between you two off already. And be together"

You kept blankly staring at her.

Is it all really that easy? As if!

"Shoko, i can't." You told her.

"But why? Wouldn't it be easier?"

"Shoko you don't understand! I can't... i can't just tell Satoru that he was going to be father! You don't get it!", you tried to explain her.

"But why? Y/n why? Try me!", Shoko got up from the arm chair and sat on the bed and held your hand.

You didn't want to tell her. You really don't want to but she's the only person whom you trust.

"Shoko you don't get it, you don't get it!", you insisted

"Try me y/n!"

"You won't get it Shoko!", you kept refusing

"Y/n!", Shoko kept insisting.

"Satoru didn't want to be father and that was our mutual agreement before we got married! I've always taken precautions to stand by my word ever since our marriage... but Satoru's family has been pressing me to get pregnant... So i didn't take any pills one day and a month later found out i was carrying... our baby.."

Shoko was left speechless.

But you continued with tears rolling down...

"I thought... when Satoru will return I will tell him everything but before i could... i-i lost our child". You struggled

"Maybe it was the God's way of punishing me for trying to force an innocent man like Satoru something he isn't prepared for.", you laughed through the tears. "Maybe its better this way Shoko. We should Divorce. I can't carry children to make his family happy anyway..."

Shoko wanted to say but the words just wouldn't come to her tongue. Maybe its because its not her place to interfere.

"Y/n...", Shoko didn't know what to say any further so she leaned closer and hugged you.

You hugged her back. You felt like a large rock got off of your chest now that you told her everything...

But things were about to take a different direction because one of the lady staff was secretly eavesdropping your conversation.

And she heard... all of it...

Tags

@sindela @dazai-gojo-kinnie @whats-humanity-lol @thewickedofrizz @phantasmia @ghostllyyz @yihona-san06 @Enaaneaen@sweet-almonds @Angel_🫶🏻@autumn-slaves @wondermilka @hh0pe @kugisakinobarades @witchbybirth @nineooooo @ssc7514 @Hana-patata @blue_spices @haikyuubiggestsimp @urstepmom69 @hueneve @chayunwoo@waosobii @nadzhaf @yoriichiswife @tiltraumadouspart @kirschtein123 @whoisobsessed @Asala @ashthemadwriter @remnirris @svm666 @voidsatoru @staygoldsquatchling02 @dunnowhy-m @nnasv @violetmatcha

If i forgot to tag anyone, i apologise.

A/N- The next chapter will be quite spicy ^v^

1K notes · View notes

prythianpages · 4 months

Text

Dandelions | Azriel x Witch!Reader

summary: After begging Azriel to take you with him to Windhaven, he finally concedes. But his worries of you getting hurt come to life when you're kidnapped.

warnings: violence, mentions of blood and death/killing

a/n: this is based off this request. If you're interested in reading more of Az x witch reader, you can find the masterlist here.

Azriel hears you gasp as he sets you down. His hands remain at your waist, keeping you steady as you find your footing. You’re still not used to the feeling of flying. Contrary to what Cassian believed, you do not fly on a broomstick so it’s all new ground to you or lack of ground you should say.

There is an unexpected allure about Windhaven. The camp is etched from the formidable terrain of bare rock and mud. There’s a quiet here that you find strangely unsettling but peaceful. It’s the stars that captivate you the most. There’s countless of them and they shimmer like celestial diamonds against the vast, dark night sky. You wonder if they shine brighter than the ones in Velaris or if it’s the lack of moon tonight that makes you think so.

“It’s beautiful,” you say as you step forward, eyes darting around.

“It’s a camp on a mountain.” Cassian deadpans but you’re too engrossed in taking the sights before you to shoot him a sly remark.

“She finds beauty in everything,” Azriel seems to reply, his lips curling up fondly as he lets you continue to admire Windhaven, even though he feels the same as Cassian about it. “I should take her back to the house before–”

But it’s already too late.

Amidst the rugged expanse of the Illyrian camp, there are figures coming into their view. Lord Devlon is among them. Azriel’s shadows are tugging you back to his side until his arm is brushing against your cloak. He’s starting to regret bringing you with him and realizes it’s also too late to hide you in his shadows as the Lord Camp’s cold eyes fall onto your form.

You clutch your cloak tighter around your chest, keeping the obsidian necklace you wear hidden. It doesn’t matter though. Your presence itself pulses with an unseen energy–a dance of ancient whispers that tease the senses. You’re darkness and light. Wildness and wisdom.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see one of the Illyrian males make a sign against evil and although you’re a green witch, you instinctively take a step back. You bump into Azriel’s wing, which curls around you protectively and you feel a rush of reassurance and comfort through the bond.

“You brought a witch.”

The other males flinch at the word. Though Azriel is on alert and his shadows are whispering to him, he finds the sight of full-grown, weathered Illyrian warlords showing fear at the sight of you amusing. You would never hurt a fly. But he would never tell them that. He wants them to fear you.

“Is that a problem?” His voice carries a firm edge and his eyes narrow, issuing a silent challenge.

“Keep her away from the females and children.”

Azriel’s jaw is clenching and Cassian is stepping forward to ease the situation. He does not agree with the cold way the Illyrian camp lords are regarding you but they are here on a mission and need to see it through. “She is none of your concern,” Cassian says and then with a dark chuckle adds. “Unless you give her a reason to be.”

You look at each of them, adopting a stoic demeanor. It’s a skill you’ve honed from observing your mate–the master of impassivity. Their eyes widen momentarily before diverting their gazes.

“We’re here to oversee that all arrangements for tomorrow’s Blood Rite go as planned.”

Azriel takes you to one of the few houses in Windhaven. He tells you it’s where he grew up besides Rhysand and Cassian under the careful and loving watch of Rhysand’s mother. The small house is a haven against the biting winds of the camp.

The house bears the marks of countless footsteps and memories that have weathered its walls over the years, radiating a well-loved charm. Azriel guides you further into the house until you’re standing in the living area and your eyes are eager to take everything in, curious to know more about the place your mate spent so much time in. There’s a series of marks on one of the walls and you smile as you recognize Azriel’s, Rhysand’s, and Cassian’s names scribbled along dates that grow higher and higher with every year.

“The room I stayed in is right around the corner,” Azriel tells you, inclining his head in said direction. “The bathroom is right next to it and the kitchen is further down the hall, if you need anything.”

“Thank you,” you reply, turning to face him. “This house is so warm and cozy.”

Azriel’s smile, though appreciative, carries a hint of amusement. He closes the distance between you, a playful glint in his hazel eyes. “Please don’t get any ideas.”

“I still prefer Velaris.”

A soft chuckle escapes Azriel’s lips. “Thank the Cauldron.”

He leans in and his hand softly traces the contours of your face. His eyes drink you in and are brimming with a burning affection he harbors just for you–the way they always do before he has to leave. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours and then I can show you around the forests.”

“Okay,” you exhale, looking into his eyes with a gaze that reflects his own. You stand on your tip-toes to press a brief kiss onto his lips. “Love you.”

Azriel holds you close before you can pull away. He kisses your lips again. Then your cheek and then your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer. “I love you too.”

Settling yourself onto the floor, you rest your back against the foot of the couch as you scribble down your intentions for the next month. There’s candles lit around you, bringing light to the room and offering a calming place for you to pause and reflect. It took a lot of effort for you to light each one of them as your powers are at their weakest every new moon.

You take a deep breath and close your eyes, centering yourself. The state of peaceful bliss you crafted for yourself unravels abruptly, shattered by a piercing noise that startles you. You open your eyes to find a stranger smirking back at you and horror strikes you when you realize he’s not alone.

Your heart skips a beat and you press yourself further into the couch, calling upon your powers. “Who are you?”

“So it is true,” the Illyrian male snickers in wicked delight, ignoring your question. His keen eyes take note of the way your eyes flicker between black and your natural eye color and the fact that you’re not putting up a fight. “You’re powerless under the new moon. How unfortunate for you that it landed on the one night we’re able to use magic.”

“Just to be safe.” Another male says, throwing something in the air.

The male in front of you catches the object with ease and your nose crinkles as a metallic odor overwhelms your senses. Iron. It may not be a weakness to most fae–or any, at all, despite the mortal’s claims–but it’s a witch’s weakness. Your stomach churns, bile rising up your throat.

You tug on the bond in the hopes to reach Azriel but as the male clamps the iron chains around your wrist, you’re overcome with a sudden wave of weakness. You can’t feel the bond. It’s eerily silent.

You don’t know how long you’re out for or if you were out at all. All you know is the cold, hard uneven ground beneath you feels like it’s moving and there’s a growing weakness in your limbs that make it hard for you to move. Your head feels unusually light and your throat tightens. You barely manage to roll over and prop yourself up with a shaky arm before hurling.

“Let’s hurry and get it done with.”

“What–what do you want from me?” You rasp. Your arms are still shaking as they hold you up and you will yourself to sit up, your back meeting a hard and rock surface. You blink your eyes and your surroundings clear enough for you to register that you’re in a cave. The feeble glow of torches cast long, sinister shadows that seem to writhe and contort along the jagged walls.

The male you had seen earlier comes into your line of sight. There’s a sharp dagger in his hand and its blade catches the dancing flames of the torches with a malevolent gleam. He points it at you, aiming for a place slightly to the left of the center of your chest.

“Your heart.”

You let out a choked laugh. To capture a witch’s heart is to hold a key to the very core of their being. It’s a sacred vessel through which profound magic flows and can transfer over to whoever holds it. But your heart’s chambers are only filled with the blood that sustains you.

The magic and enchantment that resides in your heart and defines your existence is bound to Azriel. It has been ever since you gave your heart to him. Taking your heart would be an act in vain for the Illyrian males who captured you.

You don’t tell them this though. You don’t want to die but the thought of putting a target on Azriel’s back terrifies you and overrides the former. You’d never bring any harm upon Azriel.

The male pulls on your hair, forcing your gaze up. His lips curl up into a snarl. “Don’t you dare laugh at me, you witch.”

“Should we have a little fun with her first?”

“We don’t have the time. There’s only a little over an hour before the magic leaves us.”

“That’s plenty of time to make her scream.”

A shiver courses through your spine, leaving a trail of cold unease. You squirm under your restraints but go entirely still when you feel something sharp. Your heartbeat quickens in response to the press of the dagger into your skin.

“What if the Shadowsinger comes?”

“He won’t. He’s–”

There’s a knot in your stomach, tightening with the vulnerability of raw, unbridled panic. You’re going to die. The only comfort you have is that you’ll die, knowing that your last words to Azriel were “love you.”

“Did you not see the way he looked at her? Even if we rip her heart out, there’s no telling if we’ll escape his–”

“Then, we’ll be quick about this,” the male in front of you growls, pushing the dagger further into you. You gasp at the stinging pain and your whole body grows entirely still. “We’ll take her heart, harness her powers and run. The Shadowsinger will never find us–”

“I just did.”

There’s a burning in Azriel's chest that unsettles him deeply. He catches a flash of green and realizes that the searing sensation he feels is flaring out from the emerald that lives in the pocket of his leathers. Right over his own heart.

“What is it?” Cassian asks, noticing the subtle shift in the Shadowsinger’s stance. They’re standing near a fire pit, surrounded by tents that this year’s blood rite’s participants are being winnowed to. Their task is to ensure that no stunts are pulled such as the one from last year where Nesta, Emerie and Gywn were forced into the blood rite.

Azriel pulls out the gem. Despite the burn, he handles your heart with care and tenderness. The gem pulses with life, glowing like the vibrant green of a sunlit meadow. He tugs on the bond and his heart drops to his stomach.

He can no longer feel you. All he can feel is the relentless echo of imagined horrors. Something is wrong.

“It’s y/n,” Azriel breathes, eyes wide with worry.

Cassian’s eyebrows knit together in concern. He nods his head. “Go,” he tells his friend and Azriel is already vanishing into his shadows. “I can handle this.”

Azriel’s muscle are tense, coiled like springs. Each of his siphons are glowing like icy glaciers, threatening to release their raw power. the emerald led him to this cave. His eyes darken when he sees you. You’re held against your will with a dagger pressed into your chest and a hand against your throat, pulling you flush into an Illyrian male’s chest. The look of fear in your eyes nearly destroys him.

“If you don’t get your filthy fucking hands off of her, I will rip each finger. One. By. One.”

Azriel’s voice is cold, each utterance sending a chilling vibration through the air. With every passing second, his words are no longer a warning but become a promise. The Illyrian males are visibly shaking under Azriel’s intense gaze and the one holding you swallows thickly. Azriel catches the way his gaze flickers to the opening of the cave and then you’re being roughly shoved to the ground.

Dark tendrils cushion your fall and in an instant, Azriel is crouching beside you. His shadows are brushing against you, assessing you for your injuries. They whisper to him about the injury on your chest and at the sight of your blood, his own runs cold. He’s breaking the iron imprisoning you and rendering your hands useless with his bare hands.

“Azriel,” you breathe in relief.

“You’re safe now,” he reassures you, holding your distressed gaze. He gently brushes your hair back. “But I need you to close your eyes for me, okay? Can you do that for me, love?”

He waits for your response–a meager nod, before leaving your side. He leaves a couple of his shadows with you. They wrap around your eyes and curl against your ears, clouding your senses. He doesn’t want to subject you to the violence that is about to unfold.

When he stands to his feet, he takes delight in the anguished screams coming from the Illyrians as they realize they’re trapped inside the cave with him. His shadows are forming a wall against the only entrance and exit.

One of the males turns and drops to his knees. “Please,” he cries desperately. “I’m sorry!”

“You’re pathetic,” Azriel nearly growls with a sickening smirk. “All of you.”

He makes sure each of their deaths is slow and painful and he doesn’t stop until the very last staggering breath.

Azriel’s shadows lift from your eyes and ears and you’re looking into a pair of familiar hazel eyes. Your eyes glisten with tears and with a gentle touch, his fingertips brush away the traces of terrors that run down your cheeks. His palm cradles your face and you lean into his touch. He rests his other hand against your chest, over your bleeding wound.

Green light slips from his fingertips, seeping into your wound and you both watch in shock as he uses your magic to heal you. “I didn’t know I could do that,” he murmurs in awe.

When he lifts his hand and unmarked skin is revealed, relief overcomes him, coursing through him and through the bond. He can't help but dwell on the what ifs because he knows that he was only a few minutes away from being too late. From losing you.

Gods, he was a fool for bringing you--his sweet, loving mate to a cold and harsh place like Windhaven. Especially on the night before the blood rite. But you had begged him to take you with him. You wanted to see the place he grew up in and explore the forest of Illyria and Azriel found it extremely hard to say no to you.

You’re safe now, he reminds himself, pulling him out of his dark thoughts. Although still slightly shaken, you're also now unharmed. And that's all that matters to him.

“It’s because you hold my heart,” you tell him as your crying comes to a stop and with a shaky breath continue. “That’s what they wanted–to take my heart and use it for themselves.”

An arm slips under your knees and the hand on your face drops to embrace your neck. He pulls you close, cradling you to his chest. “Why didn’t you tell them?”

You know what he’s asking. You bury your face into the comfort of his chest. It’s warm and you can feel his heartbeat. It’s fast but beginning to steady and it’s like music to your ears–the sweetest symphony. You turn your head in a way that allows you to rest your ear against his heart but also to speak.

“Because I was scared they’d go after you next.”

“Oh, my sweet little wildflower,” he purrs. He leans his head down and his breath is hot against your neck. He's touched by your concern. “They’d never get within 10 feet from me if they came for me.”

You dare to lift your head and barely catch a glimpse of the carnage around you before Azriel is tightening his hold on you and coaxing your gaze back to him.

“I see that now.”

“Does it scare you?”

There’s a subtle hint of vulnerability within his hazel eyes. Concern etches into his features as the weight of his question lingers in the air. Azriel was a strong and lethal man. A warrior. A spymaster. You knew this. Yet, he always kept the nature of his work concealed, not wanting to burden you with the horrors of it all.

A blush creeps up on your cheeks and you avoid his heated gaze. “No.”

Azriel tuts. He can sense there’s something more and he needs to know. He coaxes your gaze back to his. “What is it?”

“I found it kind of…hot,” you admit, a bit sheepishly. “That you’d kill for me.”

Azriel chuckles. The corner of his lips, molded by shadows and softened by affection, tug upwards. Gods, he loves you so much. You’re perfect, made just for him. You're everything he could ever wish for and more.

“I’d do anything for you, love.”

a/n: To the anon who requested this, I hope you enjoyed it ❤️

tagging: @fxckmiup

#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel imagines #azriel angst #azriel x witch!reader #acotar imagines #acotar x reader #az!dandelions

641 notes · View notes

vivmaek · 6 months

Text

TIME LORDS AND THEIR RELATIONSHIP TO PROFECTION YEARS

ANNUAL PROFECTION YEARS THE SIGNIFICANCE OF TIME LORDS Click here to calculate your annual profections. (Note that the chart portrays traditional rulership.)

Time lords and their relationship to the profection year they occupy reveal themes for the year ahead. There are going to be three posts for this series. I am covering houses 1, 4, 7, and 10 within this first post.

Planetary Lords Sun - Leo Moon - Cancer Mercury - Gemini, Virgo Mars - Aries Venus - Libra, Taurus Jupiter - Sagittarius Saturn - Capricorn Uranus - Aquarius Neptune - Pisces Pluto - Scorpio

Sun ☉

First House - All eyes are going to be on you this year. This is a time in which you’re going to be shining brightly, you’ll look radiant. Your sense of creativity is going to be heightened and joy will be easy to come by. You will step into a sense of self expression that is authentic and true to yourself. This is going to attract a lot of attention and you will receive a lot of positive reinforcement.

Fourth House - You’re going to be shining a light on home and family. Your roots and where you came from are important themes for the year. Your relationship with your father will be significant. You will find a lot of happiness within the domestic sphere. Your foundations will serve as a source of inspiration.

Seventh House - You will find a lot of happiness within one-on-one relationships this year. Your confidence will attract suitors and will help you establish healthy boundaries. The image of your partnership will be important to you. Your love life will attract attention. If you have a best friend or romantic companion, you will both shine brightly when together. Important relationships will serve as a source of inspiration and creativity.

Tenth House - You are going to make a positive reputation for yourself this year. Your public image will receive a lot of attention and you will be incredibly popular. This is a good year for career advancement and recognition. Your superiors are going to be fond of you and will be pleased with the results that you deliver. You might become famous, or at the very least, elevate your status in some significant way.

Moon ☽

First House - This will be a mellow year. You’ll feel more in touch with your emotions than you have in the past. Because of this, you’ll find yourself retreating into the safety and comfort of your home. Surrounded by the people and things that you love, you’ll nurture yourself and discover new aspects of your identity that are deserving of love and attention. Connecting with your roots, and with the person you once were will be another major theme within the year. A true full circle moment.

Fourth House - You will find a lot of comfort and emotional fulfillment this year. Your family is more important than ever, especially your relationship with your mother. You are going to take the time to nurture yourself and your loved ones. You will participate in many domestic activities and hobbies. Self-care is an important theme for the year, and you are going to master this.

Seventh House - You will enter a deeply intimate partnership. The emotions of you and this other person will blend together and you will feel like they complete you. Co-dependency might present itself as a challenge this year. They will help you heal your inner child. And through this partnership, you will explore your inner world.

Tenth House - You are going to start structuring your long term goals around your emotional needs. Your sense of structure is not stable during this time. You might gain a reputation for being emotional. People will start to look to you as a mother figure of sorts. You will take on a leadership position and will guide others through compassion and empathy. Your sensitive nature will become publicly known.

Mercury ☿

First House - You are going to feel the need to restructure your life. Maybe you’ve been overlooking certain details that need tending too. The phrase, “How you spend your days is how you spend your life,” certainly applies here. You might invoke new routines into your daily life that will alter your sense of identity or appearance. You’ll take a closer look at your health and will take on a more organized approach when taking care of yourself.

Fourth House - You are going to feel a need to know more about your family and roots. You might begin studying your ancestry or the culture that you were born into. You will make many short trips in an effort to visit your loved ones. Your family will keep you busy, and you will be communicating a lot more frequently with them. You will establish better routines for self care. Taking the time to process your childhood and where you came from are important themes for the year.

Seventh House - You will think a lot about what you desire from relationships this year. Your approach to partnerships is going to be more methodical than it is emotional. You can expect a lot of short trips with another person. Your communication skills will grow and you will find it easy to express yourself towards the significant people in your life.

Tenth House - Your career is going to keep you busy this year. You are taking on an organized approach when establishing long-term goals. You’ll be hard to get a hold of and will gain a reputation for always being on the go. Your sense of intelligence and wit will gain recognition and your skills in multitasking will be appreciated by your superiors. You’ll be receiving lots of emails, and there will be many meetings to attend.

Venus ♀

First House - It’s time for a glow up! But seriously though, you’re going to feel more beautiful than ever. Your life will feel balanced and you’re going to participate in many social engagements. Romance is in the air and you will develop a deep love for another person, or maybe even yourself. Don’t be afraid to give into indulgence.

Fourth House - Your love for home and family will be amplified this year. You will find a lot of pleasure within the domestic sphere. You might redecorate your personal space, making it more well suited to your tastes. You might find a lot of enjoyment in cooking or baking. You’ll host comfy social gatherings and you’ll use self care to amplify your beauty.

Seventh House - If you’ve been searching for love, this is the year you will find it. This will be an incredibly pleasant time within your life. Romance will be easy to come by and you might start a significant partnership. Your relationships with others will feel balanced and you feel an immense sense of satisfaction.

Tenth House - You will gain a favorable reputation over the course of this year. The public will be enchanted by your beauty and social grace. You might start making more money within your career. You will establish long term goals in order to provide for yourself. Beginning a romantic relationship within the workplace is a possibility.

Mars ♂

First House - You’re the boss this year. Your sense of drive will be strong and your ambition will reach new heights. You’ll be taking a lot of action and maybe some risks. The Emperor archetype from tarot comes to mind when thinking about this specific profection year. You might bulldoze over a few people to get what you want. Struggles with anger and impatience will be present this year.

Fourth House - Unresolved tensions surrounding family are going to arise this year. Your home life will feel chaotic and restless. On an emotional level, you will feel angry. During this time, it would be beneficial to embrace these feelings rather than brush them off. Completely rejecting your roots could lead to further frustration.

Seventh House - During this year, you might feel like you’re constantly walking on eggshells. Your relationship with others will feel tense, and will require action on your part if you want to see changes. People may irritate you more than usual and you could find yourself getting into arguments. Practice patience and try to understand how your sense of passion or level of energy is affecting your relationships.

Tenth House - You will be taking major action within your career this year. You want to see change and are unafraid to make this for yourself. Your decisive nature is going to impress others and people will begin to look to you as a leader. Your sense of energy and ambition will seem endless. You might upset a couple of people during the pursuit of your goals, but this will not slow you down in the slightest. You also might run into issues with your superiors and might not appreciate being told what to do.

Jupiter ♃

First House - You’ll feel optimistic this year. Your perspective is limitless and you’ll take on new ideas that will change the way you view yourself. Being open minded is going to take you to new places. You might travel and embrace the culture of a foreign country as if it were your own. You’ll witness a lot of growth within yourself and will feel a general sense of happiness. You might find yourself wearing more jewelry, or will feel a need to adorn yourself.

Fourth House - Your home or family might expand in some way. You might move far away and find that you're more comfortable there in comparison to the place in which you grew up. On an emotional level, you will feel satisfied with your life. Exploring your roots and ancestry will be of interest. You will take on a more philosophical approach when it comes to self care.

Seventh House - Your relationships will see a lot of positive growth over the course of this year. Remaining open-minded is important during this year, otherwise you might overlook people who you’d find happiness with. You might meet people who will serve a beneficial purpose within your life path. Finding luck within a partnership will be easy. Your relationships will also bring forth a lot of opportunities into your life.

Tenth House - This will be an excellent year for your career. There is a good chance you will get a raise or make a career change resulting in greater income. Your superiors are going to favor you and will give you special treatment. You’ll make a lot of lucky breaks and you’ll feel as though you are on the right path. The long term goals you set for yourself now will serve to be incredibly beneficial as you proceed into the future.

Saturn ♄

First House - During the course of this year you will set long term goals that will become a part of your identity. For example, you decide to go to grad school and go on to become a professor. These goals are important to who you are and you will showcase great discipline to achieve the results you desire. You will face a lot of hard work and will take on a lot of responsibility.

Fourth House - You’ll be turning a lot of your focus and dedication towards the domestic sphere this year. You might become a homeowner, or take on some sort of great responsibility such as signing a lease. A commitment to family is an important theme for the year. You will build your foundations and strengthen your roots. Taking self care seriously will be beneficial and will help you attain your goals.

Seventh House - You will make serious commitments to another person this year. You will set long term goals within your relationships and will make important decisions. Your partnerships will come with a deep level of responsibility and you will take these people seriously. You will also establish important boundaries within these relationships.

Tenth House - You will be putting in a lot of work this year. Your ambitions and goals will be all that you think about. You will gain a reputation for being an incredibly hard worker. Your superiors will think that you are dependable and will trust you. Your status will be solidified by the end of the year and your public image will be favorable. You will make significant progress within your career but won’t realize this until the year passes.

Uranus ♅

First House - Your sense of identity and the ways in which you portray yourself will change in unexpected ways this year. You’re going to want to try something new with your look. You’ll feel a bit rebellious and will want to break standards you’ve set for yourself. You might express yourself more on the internet.

Fourth House - You might make an unexpected move this year. Even if you don’t move, an unexpected event will take place in the home. For example, Your pipes might burst and flood your apartment. You will be able to find innovative solutions to these challenges. You might start to feel disconnected from your roots and family and will desire independence from them. If you live in a suffocating environment, you will break free by the end of the year.

Seventh House - Unexpected changes within your partnerships may take place this year. A breakup of sorts might happen. You will find yourself more independent than you were at the start of the year. You are desiring freedom within your relationships and want to seek out something new. You might feel at odds and disconnected from your partner.

Tenth House - An unexpected event will occur within your career this year. Perhaps you may lose your job, or maybe an opportunity doesn’t turn out to be what you thought it was. Either way, you will be able to manage these challenges. You are being pushed to find freedom within your career. Your superiors might find you to be rebellious and difficult to understand. You will go against authority and will gain a reputation for being defiant. Your unorthodox approaches will gain attention.

Neptune ♆

First House - Your perspective if going to take on a spiritual focus. Expressing compassion towards others comes easy. You’ll feel more intuitive than ever. You will find yourself daydreaming about the future ahead of you and who you wish to become. People might think you’re acting a bit spacey. You might attract people who seek healing.

Fourth House - Some confusion regarding your childhood or family might be present this year. You might start to remember repressed memories. At home, you will find yourself lost within a world of fantasy. You will incorporate spiritual practices into the domestic sphere. You will spend a lot of your time trying to understand your own emotions. You might withdraw during this year and start to isolate yourself.

Seventh House - This is an incredibly idealistic point in time for you, so be careful. You might begin a relationship that feels destined to last. This could be the case, but it is also possible that this person will just be one of many. You will feel intuitively connected to this person and distinguishing between your perspective and theirs will become challenging. Healing yourself through relationships is an important theme for the year.

Tenth House - You will feel confused about the direction you want to take your life in. It will be hard to establish long term goals during this time. It is best to go with the flow. Your superiors might try to take advantage of you. You might participate in volunteer work and will find satisfaction from being in service to others. You will gain a reputation for being compassionate.

Pluto ♇

First House - Whoever you were in the past is going to die so you can then take on a new identity. This might feel like a turbulent year and the changes you see occurring within yourself will feel painful. You will mourn the person you were, or maybe the life you once had. But as you embrace this new version of yourself, you will find that you are a stronger person and will feel incredibly powerful.

Fourth House - Childhood trauma is a major theme for the year. The ways in which you perceive your family and roots will radically transform by the end of the year. This will be a painful process and it will feel incredibly uncomfortable at times. You need to heal your inner child, and you will do this through the development of self care. You’ll feel intensely connected to your emotions and will begin to rebuild your foundations from the ground up.

Seventh House - Radical changes are going to take place within your relationships. You and your partner might end the relationship, or maybe you’ll take your commitment to the next level. Either way, your partnership with this person is going to look drastically different by the end of this year. Subconscious patterns are going to emerge and will affect your behavior within partnerships. You might feel paranoid and distrustful of others.

Tenth House - You will witness major changes within your career during this year. Issues regarding power and control may be present. Your superiors may try to sabotage you in some way. It is important to move in silence. Keeping your goals and long term plans to yourself is the best course of action. You will gain a reputation for being intense and obsessive. You might feel over-sexualized by the public.

@chaoticswitchcraft

436 notes · View notes

inky-duchess · 1 year

Text

Fantasy Guide to A Great House (19th-20th Century)

(I know, I've been slacking but I'm still alive)

When we think of the Victorians, the grand old Gilded Age or the Edwardians, we all think of those big mansions and manors where some of our favourite stories take place. But what and who did it take to run a great house?

Meet the Staff

Large numbers of staff were always needed to run great houses. Every department had its own management and its own teams, all working together to ensure everything ran smooth. There was both an interior and exterior team.

Interior

You can split the interior of the household into three departments: Service, Upkeep and Food Preparation.

Service

Butler: The Butler was the Head of all the household staff. He acted essentially as the manager of a great house, directing the staff on a day to day basis or at events on the command of the lord/lady/employer. Make staff would report mostly yo him and he would be in charge of keeping an eye on them. The Butler had charge of the wine cellars, the dining room, sometimes the pantry as well. As the manager of the house, Butlers were afforded the title of Mr. X. Our favourite examples being of course Mr Carson and Mr Pennyworth.

Valet: The valet was the male servant who handled the dressing of the men of the family. He would be in charge of his master's clothes, ensuring he was always dressed in the right outfit for the right activity (there was a lot) and be in charge of helping him into the outfit in question. The valet would also be in charge of cleanliness, sometimes shaving his master or running his bath. Valets were referred to as Surname and ranked in how their employer's ranked, for example the Lord’s valet would outrank his son's.

Lady's Maid: The lady's maid was similar to the valet. She was in charge of keeping the ladies of the house looking their best and handling their needs. She would style hair, care for jewels, mend clothes, care for clothes and often act as a companion, accompanying her lady on visits or day's out. The lady's maid was referred to by their surname.

Footman: The footman was a male servant who served at table, fetched items, handled heavy lifting such as luggage, opened and closed doors. Most footmen were young men and en chosen for good looks. Footmen polished the silver services at great houses and when called upon would often take on the role of valet to guests without a servant to help. Footmen were referred to as their firstname. Footmen were denoted by rank, the highest being first footman who had charge over the others and would assist the butler in some tasks.

Upkeep

Housekeeper:The housekeeper was second in command but she ran her most of the interior staff, especially those who took care of the house itself. She supervised all female staff. She helped the lady of the house when it came to running events and caring for guests. The housekeeper is always Mrs. Surname even when she's unmarried.

Housemaid: Housemaids clean the house. They would dust, make and strip beds, straighten things up and keep the house looking it's best. The housemaid was a servant that was almost never seen, usually rising early, lighting the fires, cleaning the house as the family moves from room to room. She was called by her Firstname.

Scullery Maid: The scullery maid is the lower ranking maid. She would also have been younger and less experienced. She was in charge of the more unsightly work: laying the fires, scrubbing the floors, emptying chamberpots, cleaning servant's chambers. She may even do mending and washing for other servants. She was called by her first name.

Hall boy: The hall boy was also young and handled the worst jobs. He would polish boots belonging to the family and sometimes staff, cempty the servant's chamberpots and waited on on the higher ranking servants. He was called by his name.

Food Preparation

Cook: The cook or chef was the third highest ranking servant downstairs and they ran their own department. They were in charge of the kitchen staff. All cooks and chefs would meet almost daily with the lady of the house to discuss menus and ordering but would answer to both housekeeper and butler. As with the housekeeper, a female cook or chef is Mrs Surname despite martial status and make cooks/chef are Mr.

Kitchen maid: The kitchen maid helped the cook/chef in preparing the food. She would be one of the first servants up, in charge of lighting the ovens and starting the breakfast for the family and servants. She would clean the kitchen, boil water when needed and bring food up to the servery when needed. She would be called by her first name.

Exterior

The house would needed a team on the outside to handle the stables, the gardens and any outdoor activity.

Gardeners: They would be responsible for the upkeep of the grounds itself, caring for the gardens. There would be multiple at a great house led by a head gardener.

Stableboy/groom/kennelmaster: They would take care of the family's horses and dogs. They would take care of tack, help plan hunts and riding pursuits and handle carriages.

Chauffeur: As automobiles became popular in this period, a chauffeur was needed to drive the family and take car of their motor.

Lives of Servants

Servants were paid very little at this time, mainly because most staff got free room and board. Most of the interior staff would live in the house itself and be supplied meals. Chauffeurs, gardeners etc would live nearby on the estate either as locals or be supplied a house as a staff member. Staff uniforms were also supplied. Days off were rare but not withheld. Permission was needed to leave the house either to visit the shop or take a few days off.

Servants were expected to be obedient, modest and humble at all times. They were expected to stand in the presence of their master's, speak only when spoken to and never question an order. They had to be ready for anything at the drop of a hat. You've set for a dozen guests but now there's five more coming? Tough luck, change the table settings. You get seasick? Nevermind that, your gentleman is going across the sea and as his valet you're going with him, like it or not.

Servants from one house often travelled to with the family to their other residences: the butler, footmen, chef, kitchen maids, lady's maid, valet would all go with the family while everybody else would get left behind. Every house would have its own housekeeper if it could be afforded. Housemaids and other staff needed could be hired locally when needed.

The Daily Routine

The working day of a servant in a grand house was a long arduous one.

Morning: At 6am, the servants rise. The scullery maid gets up and begins lighting the fires, starting with the kitchen. Then she cleans the kitchen top to bottom before the staff get in to cook. The kitchen maid would rise at the same time, helping with the cleaning. She would set for the servant's breakfast and start cooking it. The footmen open the shutters upstairs, cleans whatever tools they will need such as glasses and silverware, tend the lamps and sets for breakfast upstairs. The housemaids go about the house cleaning up after the night before, starting in the rooms that aren't being used (any room that's not the bedrooms). At around 8, the cook rises and starts the day. The kitchen maid serves breakfast to the other servants before returning to the kitchen to eat her own breakfast with the other kitchen staff. After breakfast, the housemaid will change her apron and deliver hot water to each of the bedrooms for the family. At 9, the family rise. Married women have breakfast in bed with all other family members and visitors eating in the dining room. Valets and lady's maids would have dressed them prior, gathering up any clothes to be mended or washed. The footmen and butlers will serve while the housemaids go into each empty room and begin their chores.

Midday: Just before midday, the chef would speak with the lady of the house to discuss menus. At around 11, the staff were permitted their first break, just enough time for a drink usually a cup of tea before they started again. The chef would start preparing for the main dinner of the evening with the lady's approval. Footmen would take their places at entrances or attend the family where he may be needed. At noon, the servants would have their dinner. At 1, the family would sit for their lunch. Once lunch is over, a footman might be permitted to attend personal business (with permission from the butler first) or be sent on errands out of the house such as delivering messages. While the family sit for breakfast, the maids tidy up any room they have been using since getting up.

Afternoon: The family take tea around 4. The footmen clear the tea before heading down to take their tea - a light meal- with the other servants around 5. Afterwards, the footmen will start to light the lamps, close the shutters and draw the curtains. The butler would oversee the laying of the table for dinner with the footmen. The first footman carries the silver, the second the china, while the butler sets the silver and glasses. If a guest is coming, a footman will remain on the door to see them in.

Evening: At 8, the footman or butler signals the start of supper. This is done by the rinibg of the gong or bell which gives the family and any staying guests, 15mins or more to get ready. Valets and lady's maids would already be upstairs at this point, helping their master/mistress. When the family head downstairs, they linger in the drawing room to chat while a footmen keeps an eye on them. Any guests visiting for dinner would be let in by a footman and announced upon entry. The butler announces dinner and escorts the family in. The footman serve the food while the butler pours the wine (chosen by the Lord with the butler's help). The footman stay in the dining room all throughout dinner, excepting when they go to the servery to collect the food from the kitchen maid. They serve and clear the plates for every course. When dinner is over, a footman will stay with the men while they drink their port while another serves the ladies their coffee in the drawing room. While dinner is on, the housemaid would tidy the empty rooms, check the fires and turn down the beds. At 9, the servants eat their supper while the family chill. When supper is over and the family is done for the night, the valets and lady's maids would ready their masters for bed. A footman would wait in the hall with candlesticks for the family and show any departing guest out. The kitchen staff would start to clean up while the butler starts locking up the house. The staff would get to bed about 11:30 - 12.

#Fantasy Guide to A Great House #Guide to A Great House part 1 #Staff #Employment #Historical reference #Writing reference #writeblr #Writing help #Writers guide #Writing research #writers resources #writing resources writing advice #Writing advice #19th century #20th century #Edwardian #Gilded age #Victorian era

2K notes · View notes

agirlcandream84 · 2 months

Text

How Boyfriend!Frank Would React to Your Car Breaking Down

Lord, I need therapy. This goes so hard in daddy territory that it's quite damning evidence of my psyche. I hope it is beloved by all.

Frank Castle x Reader

Word Count: 1,236 (~5 min read)

Warnings: 18+ only. Smut, Choking, P in V, a non-zero chance of daddy Frank

-----------

"Ya know, I don't really like the fucking attitude right now," he grumbles, eyes still plastered to the road.

"Frank, quit it with the speech. I don't wanna hear it," you reply, your foot bouncing in agitation. Frank loved being a disciplinarian, his time in the Marines left a lasting impression.

"Oh you don't wanna hear it? Well you not hearin' it is the reason your car broke down and left you stranded. I told you to tell me if the engine light ever came on," he rants, exasperated at you getting yourself into a dangerous situation.

"I said I was sorry, just fucking drop it Frank," you reply, fast and clipped.

"I don't think you have apologized sweetheart," he correctly notes, "so at least spare me the damn attitude about being worried about my girl being stranded with a broke down car in the middle of fucking nowhere."

You hadn't meant to ignore the light. It was only on for a week and you had been so busy at work that it kept slipping your mind to let Frank know. When the damn thing finally puttered out along the forest preserve road, at night no less, you had contemplated not telling Frank at all but he would have really been livid if he found out. Begrudgingly, you called him from the side of the road and the man acted as if you were bound, gagged and left for dead amongst the forest. That agitated hand sweeping down his face the minute he exited his car, barking at you to "get in the goddamn car sweetheart" and even buckling your damn seatbelt (the gall of this man), as he inspected the car and arranged for a tow.

By the time you arrived home, half of Frank's dialogue was just under-breath-mumblings to himself, "in a fucking dress no less, freezing your ass off on the side of the road," and "the fucking car is practically on E, I swear to god you got a death wish or somethin'" as he shrugged off his coat and you stormed to the bedroom and slammed the door.

Seated on the edge of the bed, the weight of the day on you, you allowed yourself a brief pity party which turned into a healthy cry and eventually a hiccuped sob. It only took a moment to hear the soft tap on the door, Frank imploring you to open up.

"Fuck honey, don't cry," his voice, the kindness back in it, traveling through the door. "Come on baby, open up, hate hearin' you cry," he pleads.

You shuffle over to the door and burst into renewed sobs upon seeing Frank's face, all the softness back in it. Stuffing your face into Frank's chest, your mumble a muffled apology as he rubs big circles on your back, saying "That's my girl, let it out honey. S'alright," adding, "You know I worry about you babydoll, can't go scaring me like that." You nod and promise not to ignore the light again.

After a life-affirming shower, a good meal and copious snuggles on the couch, it's not long before you find yourself back in the bedroom being stretched by Frank's monstrous cock, him cooing how well you're taking it. What a good girl you are. His promises to make you feel good. He had you so close, the angle and slow guide of his cock drraaggiinnng against your swollen clit, the build leaving you breathless and whimpering.

His broad hand leaves your hip and lands gently on your throat, usually a precursor to sliding a thick finger into your mouth to suck on. You grip his wrist with both hands, his thick arm dwarfing yours in size easily as you feel the subtle tension in his arm, his hand gripping the column of your neck and squeezing slightly. A breathy "eh" forced from your throat as the sensation seems to heighten everything.

"Yeah, you like that sweetheart," Frank grunts, more slow drags that punch the tip of his cock into your cervix. You grip his forearm tight and squeeze your eyes shut, chasing the release swirling around the edges. Frank squeezes again, this time a little harder, and slows his pace to long, deep measured thrusts. You whine, your climax so close. Needing more of him, to be fuller.

"Want me to make you feel good, yeah sweetheart?" he asks, his tone almost pitying. You nod, whining again

"Gonna be a good girl for me then?" he asks, his cock nearly pulled out, just the tip teasing your hole now. He tightens his grip on your neck just a hair, enough to make a squirm. You nod in response to his question.

"Gonna do what I say when I say so?" he asks, inching his cock in further as his grip on your neck tightens again. Your chest is heaving, your airways compressed slightly, making every sensation floaty and dreamy. You whimper and clench your walls, nodding again.

"Gonna give me attitude when I'm takin' care of you?" he asks, sliding in deeper and gripping tighter. The action nearly floods your desperate pussy and makes your periphery vision start to blur. You couldn't feel the bed at your back or the hair tickling your neck or your earrings dangling from your ears. You only feel the sensation of Frank, claiming dominion over your body and pinning you in place, his cock in your walls and his hand on your throat. You barely manage to shake your head no at Frank's question, hugging his forearm to your chest.

"Who's in charge sweetheart?" he huffs, working to contain his own release, sinking so deeply you feel the punch of him again. His grip on your neck doesn't waver but his thumb swipes back and forth on your neck, he's practically cooing and shushes your whimpers. Your clit is swollen and achey, the smallest pressure and you'd tumble over the edge. You manage to murmur out "You Frankie" and he replies "Say it once more for me doll. Who's in charge?"

"You Daddy," you whimper and your response ignites him. He huffs out a "fuck" as he releases your neck and returns to a punishing pace all at once. The flood of stimulation returns to you in a tidal wave and it's only a moment until you're pulsing on his cock so tightly as you cum that he needs to slow his pace to acommodate.

He coos "fuck baby, you're alright. Sssh sshh, I got you," as you convulse on his cock, whimpers tumbling from your lips and your legs quaking with aftershocks. His brows furrow in concentration as he pumps you five more times, finally releasing his sticky seed in you. He pauses for a moment, panting, his hand landing softly on your mound above where his cock is tucked in you and his thumb gently massages your folds. You mewl and mumble "frankie" and reach for him before he bends to weave his arms behind your back and pull you up to him.

His cock still buried in you, he positions himself to lean on the headboard with you in his lap and you're still panting to catch your breath and draping heavy arms around his shoulders. He pulls you to his chest and lets his fingers graze on your back, planting kisses on your forehead while he tells you what a good job you did.

"You were such a good girl for me sweetheart," he says, adding "always gonna keep my girl taken care of," and that's the last thing you hear before drifting to sleep in his arms with his cock still buried in you.

#frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle fanfic #frank castle smut #frank castle x y/n #frank castle #frank castle fluff #frank castle comfort #frank castle fic

391 notes · View notes

sugairsstuff · 2 months

Note

Hii,

I have a request I love protective Rhys so can you do a Rhys x reader where someone insults her and Rhys gets all overprotective and angry, like how dare they insult my mate🤭

I hope you have a great day and thank u for writing it

Bye❤️

i’m sorry for taking so long to write this! i hope you enjoy my spin on the prompt <3

i’m flattered

rhysand x fem/reader

warnings: none

description: a noble has quite a lot to say regarding your appointment to high lady. as much as you’d like to do it yourself, your loving mate swoops in to put them in their place.

Coming to the Court of Nightmares to play pretend in these political dances veiled in the disguise of a party was never something you were excited about through all your immortal years of knowing Rhysand. So, naturally, you were feeling an extra weight of anxiety now that you would be attending as the High Lady of the Night Court—therefore a major piece in what was originally just Rhysand and the Court of Nightmare’s game of chess. You understood your mate morphed himself into an entirely different person as he believed that the one way to keep this imbalanced section of the Night Court under order was to keep them intimidated with the illusion of a cruel leader—for who would challenge someone who held no moral bounds?

While your mate had years—if not centuries—of practice in carefully carving this mask to wear at a ball that wasn’t even a masquerade, you had only been High Lady for two years. Before that, you kept your head low or simply did not attend the events held in this part of the court. It goes without saying that you were extremely prone to criticism, which was especially worrying in a place that was kept under control through the guise that they were not allowed to question their authority.

Alas, your lover insisted that it would be better for you to attend with him. Rhysand promised that you were safe there in his company (and that the food and drinks would be to your liking), while urging that it was better to show your face and prove that these Fae did not make you afraid than stay behind and let them mumble amongst themselves. Because, of course, this court was no longer run by only the High Lord, so now you needed to demand respect as well.

Standing in the mirror, you decide that at least it was somehow easing to be wearing such an elegant gown to the ball. With long sleeves and a deep plunge, your black dress hugs your curves and falls over your hips to the floor. You thought it was a nice touch that the ends of the long skirt are flecked in white that gave the illusion you had just waded through a pool of stars. Your hair is done up nicely as well to flaunt your neck and the silver jewels decorating it, the light piece of jewelry falling deep on your chest.

“I’m wondering if bringing you may be a mistake after all,” a familiar voice hums lovingly behind you. You whirl around from the mirror, brows furrowed as you watch your mate expectantly for an explanation.

Rhysand chuckles, raising his hands in a surrendering gesture as he pushes himself off of the doorframe he was leaning against, “You are one beautiful distraction, darling. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to stay focused on politics when I have the brightest star in Prythian right at my side. That’s all.”

You roll your eyes regardless of the fact you’re now sure you didn’t need to put blush on when doing your make up earlier. “Oh, yeah, cover it up, Mr. High Lord,” you huff in faux annoyance, though perhaps some real insecurity.

Rhysand was quick to notice that, and even quicker to invade your personal space by wrapping an arm around your waist and guiding you to his chest. “Don’t forget Mr. High Lord needs his Mrs. High Lady there,” he coos, grinning when his cheesy words evoke a sweet laugh from your lips.

You decide to change the topic rather than continue to brood over the inevitable reality of the ball you are about to be an unwanted spotlight in. “Is everyone else ready?” you ask, thinking of your friends who also are expected to be attending due to political reasons. Azriel, Cassian, and even Mor were always expected to at least show their faces.

Rhysand nods idly, clearly too distracted by you to shift his mind to be thinking about them. “They’re waiting, but I’m sure they won’t mind it if we’re a little late,” he says, grinning like a feline as he leans down over you to try and capture your lips with his. You evade Rhysand’s flirtatious attempts to seduce you by leaning back and resting your palm against his chest.

“Nuh-uh. No way am I being late to this thing,” though you pause and return his playful grin, “though if it goes well, maybe we can celebrate later. The zipper on this dress is pretty difficult to undo,” you hum.

“I’d be glad to lend a hand with that.” he winks, smiling like a fool as his boyish attitude earns yet another laugh from you.

Rhysand was a tempting sight to be seen, though. It appears as though he wanted to make you two look like dynastic royalty with the way you both are dressed, perhaps to look utterly untouchable to the rebellious crowd you are about to endure. His suit was pitch black, tailored perfectly to hug his V-shaped waist and embroidered with deep purple lacing at its hems. His sleek black hair is pushed back with what you assume is gel, though either by Rhysand’s doing or its own failure some of raven strands had fallen down over his forehead. You couldn’t help but make the allusion of you being the stars and him being the milky way.

“Alright, let’s go before you get too carried away,” you insist. And with that, Rhysand pulls you closer to him and winnows you to where your friends wait—some more impatiently, as Azriel stands with his arms crossed and an accusing expression at the two of you for being late.

By the time you arrive in the Court of Nightmares, you realize the party wasn’t starting without Rhysand and you. The throne room was done up extravagantly to meet the expectations of the High Fae citizens of Hewn City, the pure silver decorations a stark contrast to the deep, shiny ebony that the room was etched from.

Beautiful faces all around the room turn to watch you and your mate enter, their drinks idle in their hands and their conversations paused so that they can get a good look at the new High Lady. You swallow, keeping your chin up and moving on to the main floor alongside your mate. The back of Rhysand’s hand brushes yours, and when you turn to look up at him you see that he’s offering you his arm. You link your elbow with his, allowing him to lead you the rest of the way into the parted crowds.

When the pair of you begin to near the dais, you see only one throne sits at the centre of it. Rhysand seems to have this planned, though, as he gently guides you away and lets go of your elbow once you reach a small cluster of nobles. Of course, it all came down to symbolism and perception, because rulers who are supposed to be equals should have their own thrones to sit, and holding on to you when not walking would be seen as more controlling than chivalrous.

“High Lord, it’s been quite some time since you’ve visited,” one of the Fae spoke. Her features were sharp and dark, brought out by her even darker makeup. To your surprise, she turns to look at you, “And you’re not alone. You must be our new High Lady, I’ve never seen you at any of the parties here.” the nameless female hums, her gaze dragging down along you. You can see in her brown eyes she finds nothing to criticize as she releases a small ‘hmph’ of both disappointment and approval.

“Yes, I am. I’m glad to finally have the opportunity to visit Hewn City properly.” you respond, offering a small, neutral smile. You decided that maybe if you treat these people politely, and not allow any snide remarks to outwardly anger you, they would see you as immune to their judgment and would back down.

The female raises her brow. Rhysand later would tell you her name is Emelia, daughter of a family known for trades. But when you glance to your side, you realize your mate has been pulled aside with Mor in what looks like an unpleasant conversation with Keir, the steward of Hewn City.

Emelia decides to strike while you’re alone, having no respect for someone who, technically, wasn’t her direct authority, “Well, that makes it sounds like you weren’t allowed to visit the Court. Why, does your High Lord keep you at arm’s length?” she drawls, sipping her golden-flaked wine in a weak attempt to hide her triumphant smirk.

Your back straightens, stunned for only a moment at her implication. “Well, it’s just a little difficult finding free time to revel so often when there are duties I must see to for the Night Court as a whole. I’m not sure if you will understand, however, considering how many of these occasions you’ve mentioned you spend your time going to.” you quip, quickly realizing that being nice and courteous to people wouldn’t work, and that Rhysand was unfortunately right to maintain equilibrium in Hewn City through intimidation.

You leave Emelia fuming in your wake, not bidding her a farewell as you head to Rhysand who now converses with Keir alone. Your mate looks relieved when he sees you coming, moving like a wisp in your black dress across the ebony throne room. The male to his left, however, looks less than pleased to see you coming in contrast.

“Keir,” you greet as Rhysand bends to kiss your cheek in loving greeting.

Keir only says your name in return before looking to Rhysand. “Well, that’s all from me, enjoy your fun, Rhysand.” he says, sending a scrutinizing look your way before departing.

Your mate lets him go without the satisfaction of a response. Rhysand sighs, turning to face you and reaching a hand to adjust the positioning of your necklace. His hand brushes against your collarbone as you meet his eyes. “Was she giving you trouble?” he says, recalling that he had to leave you with Emelia, “I felt some tension on your end of the bond,” he murmurs, careful of the level of his voice due to the room being full of prying, pointy ears.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” you assure him, taking your turn to do some adjusting by straightening the sculpted fabric of his overcoat. You thought you had managed yourself well with Emelia, who you assume was somewhere between a jealous young female to another rebellious citizen spewing the opinions fed to her by others, and your confidence began to return until you and Rhysand were silent enough for a conversation to reach your ears.

“Look at her. Dressed like a queen and yet she does nothing for the Night Court,” a male voice scoffed. You hear female and male voices laughing almost forcefully in adoration. The male continues, his voice only slightly muffled from the crowd and the distant music, “All I’m saying is, I don’t even work in politics and I could probably do a better job than her.”

After some more irritating cackling, a female voice pipes in, “The dress is tacky, anyway.”

With your heart in your stomach, you don’t even have the chance to look around and locate the owners of these voices as you notice your mate has already walked the few feet over to the small group near the edge of the throne room.

You worry that following after your mate and standing there as he, you assume, chides the yapping male, you make your way to the nearby refreshment table. Azriel thankfully stands there, who seems to be avidly trying to blend into the wall in order to avoid conversing with the unpleasant guests.

“Pretend we’re having a conversation. I’m eavesdropping.” you tell him once you arrive, and Azriel responds with a joking ‘yes, ma’am’ as you become another one of the pointy-eared eavesdroppers.

“Cielo,” you hear Rhysand drawl, a wicked grin on his face as he inserts himself into their conversation. Satisfaction begins to lift your heart back into place as the group’s laughter comes to an abrupt halt.

“Are you implying you think you’d be a better High Lady for me?” Rhysand hums, brow raising at Cielo, who now looks stiff with embarrassment. “Really, I had no idea you harboured such feelings for me, I’m truly flattered.” Rhysand continues just enough so that Cielo’s friends have turned their amusement to their rather humiliated looking pal.

Rhysand takes a step forward, a few inches taller than the glaring male. “I’d hate to break your heart, but if you ever speak about your High Lady and my mate in such a disgusting manner again, I will make an example out of you as to exactly what the punishment is for disrespecting your authority.” and just as his friends began to snicker, Rhysand’s sharp violet gaze turns to them. “And that goes for all of you,” he snaps. Rhysand stalks away, leaving the small crowd of Fae in silence as he finds you next to Azriel.

“You know,” you say cheekily, “I could’ve handled that, too.”

Rhysand sighs as he takes a glass of wine from the table, likely wanting some alcohol to stroke away the flames of his temper. “I know, darling. Sorry for beating you to it, I just couldn’t stand by and listen to them spit bullshit like that.” he scoffs. You can’t be bothered to be mad—too busy gleaming in triumph and pride over your love’s protectiveness.

“Well, I think they learned their lesson,” you giggle, glancing to the group who now watch you and Rhysand in weariness rather than entitlement.

“Good. If they can’t appreciate what you do for them, they could at least keep their mouths shut.” he hisses. You rest your hand on Rhysand’s elbow to bring his attention back to you.

“Why don’t we dance? That way, no one can judge us for not speaking to anyone.” you suggest.

Rhysand takes your hand and kisses the back of it, “I like the sound of that.” he agrees.

After a night full of dancing and more inevitable political conversations, you and Rhysand winnow back to the House of Wind as you call it a night. You find yourself standing in front of your long mirror, trying to reach back to undo the finicky zipper of your dress. You see Rhysand take a step closer to you in the mirror and feel as his hands snake into place on each side of your waist.

“So, how about that celebrating?” he grins to your reflection.

#acotar #rhysand #rhysand x reader #a court of thorns and roses #high lord rhysand #high lord of the night court #the night court #night court #rhysand x y/n #rhysand x you #cassian x reader #azriel x reader #azriel #cassian

344 notes · View notes

mull3ts · 11 months

Text

[ 𝐍𝐎𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘'𝐒 𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 ]

⚠︎ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | Smut (18+), Dilf! Aged Up! Stepfather! Jeno, Unprotected Sex, Infidelity, Daddy Kink, Heavy Teasing, Praise Kink, Nipple Play, Size Kink, Slight Dacryphilia, Implied Breeding Kink

What you and Mr. Lee did behind closed doors was nobody's business. What you did with him nearly every day was nobody's business.

Nobody needed to know what you do with your mother's almost ex-husband and nobody needed to know what the Lee Jeno did with his almost ex-stepdaughter.

You beckoned for it—the day the divorce would be completely finalized—the day you'd never have to worry about a single thing other than yourself and Mr. Lee.

But for now, you stayed in his big, nice house—your mother already long gone after what you call “the confrontation”.

You looked back at the college algebra study guide given to you by your professor. So much for taking a class over the summer.

You sighed. Bullshit. You continued working.

Until, you heard the garage door open. Your ears perked up and you immediately sat up. Though, you regained your composure and slouched back down on the couch.

He's home.

Your insides danced around.

You were definitely going to get fucked.

Jeno and you, you and Jeno, you and Mr. Lee, Mr. Lee and you—it was…something.

The moment you met him there was a sense of tension. Too much tension to the point where you can recall the moment like it happened a minute ago. From the moment when he married your mother, you'd always be attached at the hip with him. And, obviously, your mother noticed and didn't like the intimacy all too much.

Nonetheless, Mr. Lee just couldn't keep his hands to himself and the cat was then out of the bag and right in front of everyone a little too much. Basically, your mom caught you.

His footsteps went through the kitchen. He opened the fridge, getting something from it, and his footsteps wandered in to the living room. You're in the living room, studying, making sure to put your education he pays for to good use.

“Hi, honey,” he greeted, stepping right in front of you.

You didn't look up from your paper. It's part of the game.

You both liked to play to play it sometimes. You'd pretend to be so very busy and ignore him until he'd coax you out of it. Or, Mr. Lee would pretend to be oh so busy (honestly, sometimes he was) and you'd sit on his lap, get all up in his space, until he slapped your face and you were on your knees underneath his desk.

“Hi, Mr. Lee,” you dismissed, your eyes trained perfectly on the paper.

He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear before moving his hand to your chin, lifting your face up to look at him. You could see his other hand, it was a water bottle.

He must've gotten it from the fridge.

Mr. Lee stood large in front of you. He was just very…brooding. But now, towering over you, he appeared huge. Not to mention, his frame was partially covering the light above the two of you, making him seem like a big, bad man, just here to take what he wants.

And typically, that's what he does. Not that anyone minds. Not that you mind.

And, you supposed that what's happening right now.

Mr. Lee's white button-down (folded at the forearms, as always) was nearing tight around his chest. His black slacks were just barely tenting from what you briefly saw.

You looked up at him through your lashes. There was heat rushing to your face.

“Did my pretty girl miss me?”

Your lips formed a thin line before growing into a soft smile, “Mhm.”

“Did you have a good day?”

He caressed the side of your face, running his thumb along your cheekbone before taking a sip of his water.

You watched in great awe as he drank, his throat bobbing when he swallowed.

Good lord.

“Tiring day,” you told him, “m'very busy.”

He cocked a brow and set his water on the coffee table. He came back and stood in front of you.

Mr. Lee placed his hands on his hips. “Are you?”

“Yup” you answered, emphasizing the “P” and looking back down at the paper. “I've got an exam for physics, algebra, everything.”

“Got it; you're in a mood, hm?”

God—he knows you so well.

But god—he’s nearly obsessed with you. The thought of you runs through his mind 24/7.

He sat next to you on the couch before grabbing the remote to the TV.

Mr. Lee tugged you onto his lap causing you to whine.

“Really? M'busy.” You eyes never left the paper, but you obviously weren't studying anymore. Even your eyes couldn't focus. You leaned back against him, your head slightly on his shoulder, back flushed against his chest, fully on his lap.

He turned on the TV and settled on golf. Boring. He thinks it's interesting sometimes. However, you're sure he's not paying any mind to the game—he was never a Tiger Woods fan.

His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you. His nose nuzzled against your ear; then, behind your ear where he knew exactly where it felt good. He mouthed at the spot behind your ear—licking you there, sucking you there.

“Your lips are cold,” you grumbled, tilting your head so he'd stop. “Quit, I really need to study.”

His hold around you grew tighter. His bulge under your ass grew harder. You really wanted to squirm on it.

Mr. Lee's lips traveled to your earlobe making you sigh on complete accident. “Oh there's my girl,” he purred.

“No,” you mumbled with a whiny tone. He chuckled in your ear.

You swore you could turn into putty with him.

With one arm still wrapped around you, his free hand rested right at your lower tummy, right above your cunt. His hand slowly inched to the end of your shorts. He played with the lightly colored lace between his fingers.

“Did you wear these for me?”

You shook your head, “No.”

He hummed. “I think you're lying, honey.”

“I think you're distracting, Daddy.”

He hummed again.

His hand slid to your inner thigh, slowly moving until he reached between your legs. Mr. Lee widened his legs causing you to do the same. He leaned back against the couch leaving you no other choice but to do the same.

You tried your best to lift your paper into your field of vision. You failed the instant Mr. Lee ran a single digit up your cunt.

“I am trying to study.” you tried to say as firmly as possible. But, the man only held you tighter.

“And I am trying to play.” he whispered.

You really had to bite back a moan leading to you accidentally squirming on his lap, feeling the way he was basically pressing his whole hand on you—just cupping your cunt like it was nothing to him, like it was casual to him.

“It's warm here,” he mumbled. “wonder if it's wet too.”

You swallowed thick. "Uh-uh."

“Can Daddy check?” he pressed, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

“No, m'bus-”

The hand around your stomach quickly snatched the paper and promptly flung it across the room.

“No you're not, honey,” he said, shoving his hand down your shorts, cupping you there. “Stop bein' so damn fussy.”

His legs widened, so did yours, again. You spread wider and his fingers finally ran up and down your slit. You took a sharp breath in as his fingers ran over your clit, then over your very empty hole.

Jeno relished in the way he could hear your wetness.

He teased your hole, feeling you squirm on top of him with want. He pressed a finger inside only to pull it out and rub your clit. Your cunt clenched around nothing.

“Daddy, I need...I need-” you couldn't even form words at this point. “Study. I need to study,” you sighed out.

“No you don't.” he said softly.

You hummed this time, only shakily.

He rubbed your clit in slow circles. He was pressing down harder than usual. You tried closing your legs, but Mr. Lee moved your thighs more to the outside of his making you open even wider and hook your feet near his calves.

You certainly felt locked.

“Please, Daddy,” you whined, “please lemme’ go back to work. I really need t-to—”

“Shhh.”

He held you close to him while he still, slowly, rubbed on your clit. Your head lulled back against his shoulder leading him to suck and nip at your neck with this teeth.

“Not until you gimme what I want, baby,” he murmured, nearly biting your neck. “So wet. You all wet for Daddy?”

You shook your head. “Nuh-uh.”

You wiggled your ass against him. Mr. Lee groaned against your neck, nipping at your skin a little harder. You whined and squeezed his thighs as you held onto them.

“Naughty fuckin' girl.”

Mr. Lee ran his fingers down to your soppy hole again and circled around it.

You could've lost your mind.

However, he never dipped his fingers inside.

“Daddy,” you accidentally whined.

He hummed, “What? Thought you needed to study, hon’”

His other hand slid up your shirt, lifting up your top above your tits.

You swore his dick twitched underneath you the moment he rubbed your nipple between his finger tips.

“Oh, don't worry pretty baby, Daddy knows what you need.”

His finger slid inside your hole and you nearly lost it. Your hips moved with his finger, fucking in and out of you. He pushed in another finger making you nearly sob.

“N-No,” you whimpered in faux protest. “Study. P-Please, Daddy, I need t-to study,”

But, actions speak louder than words and your hand was on his, making his palm press down on your clit.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he tsked, pulling his fingers out of your pussy. “I thought you needed to study. Why the hell are you using my hand, honey?”

“Daddy!” you squeaked “Please!”

You felt like you were in the filthiest porno someone definitely had to pay for.

“Please just fuck me already,” you begged, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “Just fuck me, Daddy, please!”

You were definitely crying.

“You've gotten quite the dirty mouth lately.”

You sniffled, looking at him though wet lashes. “Are you gonna punish me, Daddy?”

“Maybe.”

He slapped your pussy making you cry out.

“Please!” you cried, your voice changing due to the tears. “Just fuck me instead!”

"Thought you needed to study."

You could hear his shit-eating grin.

“Fuck it,” you whined. Tear just kept falling. “Fuck this. Fuck the game.”

“You're very needy, and dirty mouthed; you don't even wanna keep playing.”

“I'm done playing, Daddy, please just fuck me!”

“Whatever my little lady wants.”

You were being pushed off his lap, standing and pulling down your shorts, watching Mr. Lee watch you.

He stared at you with a hungry look in his eye as he unbuckled his belt, taking his cock out of his underwear. It was red and hard with precum at the tip. Good fucking lord.

You scrambled on top of him, straddling him, and kissed him. You tangled your hand in his styled hair, his nose pressing against your cheek. Your hands found their way to the buttons on his shirt, shakily undoing them.

“Such a sweet girl,” Jeno mumbled to no one but himself.

You notched the tip of his dick against your hole, slowly sinking down on his cock. You felt like you could pass out.

The “issue” is Mr. Lee is huge. Massive. You weren't quite sure he'd ever fit inside of you.

He's near unbearably heavy. And you felt it.

Everytime he'd fuck you, Jeno slid in slowly. “Savoring the feeling” he said. He remembers once telling you how much he liked the feeling of plunging his dick inside your tight cunt. He loves the feeling of your walls stretching, pulsing around him. He loves feeling himself fill you.

Your tummy always gets a little pouch.

It's happening right now. He thinks it’s the prettiest thing he’ll ever see. Other than you.

Obviously.

You sunk down slowly, feeling everything as you held onto his shoulders; your mouth agape. Mr. Lee kissed you with no kiss back from you, but he understood because he knew exactly why. His poor baby was too absorbed in him. “Holy fuck,” he nearly whined against your lips.

You sighed the moment you were fully seated in his cock, beginning to move your hips. You always liked riding him, liked the look on his face—like Mr. Lee was about to explode or collapse…or die just from the sheer feeling of you. His hold on your hips were tight, guiding you exactly where he needed you.

Mr. Lee’s eyelids were heavy, his mouth also agape, breathing hard. Your teeth sunk down on your bottom lip at the sight, biting back the urge to scream. Instead, your arms wrapped around his neck and you rested your cheek on his shoulder.

At this point he was fully in control, forcing your lips up and down his cock. All you had to do was, “Relax and take it, honey,” he groaned in your ear. “Take it like the good girl you are”.

You nodded, your whines making Mr. Lee spank your ass just to make you scream so sweetly right near his ear.

In a haze, your hand snaked up to his head, tangling your fingers in his hair. “I love you,” you whimpered.

Mr. Lee stared at your for a while, blinking slowly, then gave you a wide, lazy grin. Kissing your forehead, he murmured. “I know, honey.” He sucked in hair through his teeth when you tightened around him before saying, “I love you too, sweetie,” there was a pause, more moans escaped his lips, “I love you so…so much.”

God he's perfect.

You whimpered before closing your eyes, letting the feeling of his cock dragging against your soppy walls take over you. There was no way you'd get used to this—no way you'd get used to him. Your lips made it to his throat, your kisses quickly developing into nearly biting his neck when Mr. Lee told you, “Don't be so shy, sweetie.” with a smug tone in his voice.

It wasn't long before his hips were slamming into you, his dick stretching you out with every thrust making him (and yourself) a complete mess. He groaned, his hips stuttering the moment he heard you gasp.

Mr. Lee was so deep inside your cunt you could almost see stars.

He chuckled and kissed the temple of your forehead; wrapping his arms tightly around your waist he continued to fuck up into your like it was almost nothing.

“Aren't you glad you're not studying?” he mumbled.

You hummed, nodding.

“Always rather be fuckin' your Daddy, huh.”

You released your bottom lip from in-between your teeth, panting “Yes!”

You felt him hit a spot so deep you almost cried, instinctually clenching tight around him. Mr. Lee growled, swiftly delivering a harsh slap to your ass. “Don't do that to me, baby,” he sighed, spanking you again “you know I can't fuckin' take it.”

And he really couldn't. Especially when you lounge around the house—his house, his couch, his room, his office, his job. And especially when it was times like this where the only thing he could focus on was you and the way your slick dripped down his balls.

He really can't help it. Especially now that you live with him.

But then your walls squeezed him tightly. He was about to nearly growl a threat in your ear when your whiny tone beat him to it.

“M'sorry Daddy!” you cried, “M'gonna...gonna cum...m'sorry, s-sorry, sorry...fuck!” your arms were wrapped tightly around his neck, though not as tightly was your walls wrapped around his cock.

Mr. Lee hissed at the way you felt around him. He could barely move, stunned by you and your little apology for him. He never told you to cum, he never told you that you could cum, but you were just so desperate he didn't quite care.

Once your walls were almost done fluttering around his cock, he took it as a sign to shove his dick as far and as quickly as possible inside you causing tears to fall down your face.

“Daddy,” you panted, crying out of pleasure “slow, s-slow down,”

Though you really meant for him to go faster, harder—your mind just couldn't quite grasp on the words you meant to say.

“D-Daddy, please,” you sobbed, “c-can't-”

He quickly cut you off, his hips slamming into you as he chased his own orgasm. “Yes you fuckin' can, sweetheart.” he stated. “Y-You're just gonna let me fill you up with my cum,” he paused, groaning. “And when I'm all finished, you're gonna say ‘thank you, Daddy’.”

He slapped your ass. You were sure there was going to be a mark.

“M'kay?”

You nodded, “M'kay.”

“Good girl,” he praised before becoming a mess of groans beneath you. You were sure he was close when he let out a string of curses—but it wasn't until he shoved up all the way into that you knew he was coming.

You gasped. “Daddy!”

You could die happily the moment you felt his cum fill your used hole.

Mr. Lee groaned when he came inside you, relishing in the way you'd always gasp at the feeling. He mouthed at your neck, mumbling sweet nothings accompanied by small groans.

It took him a few moments, eventually regaining his senses.

He sighed, nuzzling his nose in your neck before repositioning the both of you on the couch. He laid against the armrest with you on top—cock still nestled deep inside you. Neither of you seemed to mind all the slick dripping out and onto his thighs.

You kissed his jaw over and over again while Mr. Lee simply shut his eyes, catching his breath.

“What did I tell you to say, honey?” he reminded, eyes still shut though his lips were forming a smile.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you said in-between giving him kisses. His lips broke out in a grin. “That's my girl.”

His living room was silent. Your living room was silent. The living room was silent. It was silent for a while. The only thing that could be heard was the sound of Mr. Lee breathing softly.

You broke the silence, softly asking, “What's for dinner?”

Mr. Lee hummed. “Maybe pizza.”

“Can you not get Hawaiian this time? I know you like it but it's a little…off-putting.” you looked up at him, his eyes still shut.

He laughed, finally looking down at you. “Don't worry, honey, I won't get Hawaiian.” he pecked your lips before tapping your ass exactly three times.

“Up.”

You pouted.

“C'mon, honey, get up or else leftovers.”

“But then some of your cum is gonna leak out and, Mr. Lee, you know how I like to be all full.” you whined.

He stared at you for a second. You swore his eye twitched.

“Well I should get you a plug then.”

The way you looked at him—it was almost taunting.

“Maybe you should.”

And you both stared at each other. It was weird. Mr. Lee wanted something. He could tell you wanted something. You could tell he wanted something. You both knew you were fully capable of giving that something. But, you both were aware that right now maybe wasn't the right time. You still had college. He still had to completely finalize the divorce with your mother. But one day. Definitely one day.

“I-I'll get up.” you said, your voice shaky as you moved to get up. But then he looked at you, very seriously, before pulling you back down.

“No.” he stated. “Stay here until I get back.”

He maneuvered from you. Standing, he zipped his pants back up, buttoned his shirt back up, fixed his rolled sleeves, his belt.

He leaned down to kiss your forehead before handing you back your discarded study guide off the floor. His kiss lingered like it never had before.

“Be good.”

TAGLiST | @shescharlie @electric-hearts @hyuckzlipz @neovy1 @chonlo @shuasxn @lenaluvs @haven-cove @dojoonsgf @hikaru-lana @dreamwithunicorn @seuomo

#nct smut #nct dilf #jeno smut #nct dream smut #lee jeno smut #dilf jeno

994 notes · View notes

blue-sadie · 7 months

Text

Praises From The Gods

God Astarion x Human Reader x God Gale

Summary: bases off of this post

Warning: fantasy au, double penetration, talk of breeding

Yn/3rd person pov

I bowed my head nervously from their gaze, they soft murmurs to eachother only make my nervous worsen "you don't have to be afraid darling" astarion the god of lust and sex spoke seductively as he leaned forward in his throne.

"We mean you know harm" his eyes slowly drifted up and down my body causing goosebumps to arise "aww your scaring the poor thing astarion" the second god gale of love and desire chuckled.

I was brought here as an offering by my selfish family who only want good graces with the gods "I-i" I tried to speak but my voice kept wavering.

"Hush now my darling" astarion slowly rose to his feet with grace and slowly walk towards me I felt like I couldn't look up at him I shouldn't look up at him he is all to divine for someone like me to gaze upon his beauty.

"My my darling you'll get too stare at us as long as you'll like" his teasing made my cheeks burn with embarrassment as he lifted up his hand using one of his fingers to guide me to look up at him.

His touch made my skin tingling I stared up at him in bewilderment taking him in "you'll have all day and night to stare at the both of us" he grinned and slowly leaned down bringing his face closer to mine.

My breath caught in my throat "m-my lord" I chocked out he licked his lips as he dragged his gaze between my eyes and lips "may I kiss you" the words left my lips without me even realizing it intill gale chuckled.

"You don't have to ask" astarion murmured and pressed his lips against mine passionately I gasped against his lips as I felt him step closer to me pressing his body up against mine.

"Now I do love the view but I'm feeling left out" gale chuckled astarion pulled back just a little bit so he could speak while still remaining eye contact with me "then by all means come and join us".

He sounded almost breathless we were lost in eachothers eyes intill gale pressed himself against my back and his breath hit my neck "you are stunning" gale whispered pressing light kisses on my neck.

I felt overwhelmed by their presences but loving it at the same time but I wanted more I needed more "you need to speak what you want darling" astarion murmured his hands moving to held my waist.

"Tell us what that dirty mind of yours wishes treasure" gale whispered "I- I want you I want you both" I spoke nervously "go on" astarion grinned "I want to please you" this made astarion shake his head.

"Its not us you need to please treasure" gale said as his hands trailed up and down my thighs "it's quite the opposite actually" astarion chuckled seductively.

"What do you mean" I asked making them chuckle at my question "yn you belong to us now and we take good care of our things" gale murmured and astarion nodded.

"We'll take care of you in more ways then one" astarion said his hands tugging at my clothes as he stared down at my body I clench my thighs together feeling my wetten under their gaze.

Astarions eyes flickered to my thighs catching my movement "I think she's ready for us gale" he grinned and with one flick of his wrist my clothes disappeared I gasped at the sudden coldness against my skin.

"Such beauty" gale murmured as he let his hands wrap around me and caress my body all the way up to my boobs he chuckled as my breathing deepened as he lightly grazed my nipples.

"We'll take such good care of you" astarion let out a sigh of contentment as he leaned down attaching his lips to my neck and slowly moved his way down leaving marks as he goes.

Astarion got on his knees and looked up at me with lust in his eyes, he moved his hands to my thighs gripping and squeezing them as he leaned forward to eat me out.

I pushed my head back against gales shoulder as my hands went to grab astarions hair "please" I moaned out gale quickly used one of his hands to make me look at him and pressed his lips to mine.

His lips eagerly moved against mine as he played with chest "she tastes fucking amazing" astarion growled against me sending shivers through my body.

I lightly pressed myself into him further getter more please "f-fuck" I moaned as gale pulled back admiring my pleasured face.

"You should see her face astarion" he chuckled "I'll see it when we fuck her gale" I whined out as astarion pulled back to speak "don't worry darling" he murmured and went back to eating me out.

Astarion moved one of his hands up to my core lightly teasing my lips before plunging two of his fingers inside me "fuck" I cried out clenching around his fingers.

A knot in my stomach tightened "cumming" I moaned out loudly "cum for us treasure" gale muttered tightening his hold on my breasts I moaned out my body shaking and muscles clenching as I cummed.

Astarion slowly pulled away from me and rose to his feet licking his lips as his stared at me "you taste fucking delicious my love" he muttered grinning widely.

My body was still shaking from the orgasim "m-more please" I breathed out desperately "I n-need it" I whispered looking at both of them pleadenly.

The hushed me, astarion flicked his wrist again getting rid of both of their clothes my eyes trailed up and down astarions body.

"Be prepared darling we can be quite.... rough" he smirked as they pressed themselves back up against me I gasped feeling their hard cocks up against me.

They both went to kiss my neck as they slowly pushed themselves in "we'll make sure you won't feel any pain" gale murmured his hand ghosting over my stomach and softly glows the pain of them splitting me in two subsiding.

"Unless you beg for of course" astarion groans out as he and gale got themselves fully inside I let out moans of pleasure and started begging them to move "as you wish darling" astarion growled out.

They both start thrusting at a slow pace easing their way in and slowly getting faster and faster as I started getting louder.

"My precious treasure you are amazing" gale groaned out praises while astarion did the opposite "this is where you belong getting fucked by the both of us" their praises and degradations drew my closer to the edge.

I moved my hands to grip astarions shoulders tightly my nails slightly digging into them "fuck she's close" astarion groaned out gale muttered something I couldn't quite hear but gasped out as I felt him start to rub my clit.

"Cum for us treasure" he muttered the knot in my stomach burst making me scream out in pleasure my legs buckling and my body shaking as they held me still.

I left out long uneven breaths as they slowed their thrusts they haven't cam yet I drifted my slightly blurring gaze to astarion who tutted.

"Don't think we're done darling this was just the beginning"

Tag.List

@neteyamyawne

@greekgods15

@sweetirilly

547 notes · View notes

ilyhaitanii · 5 months

Text

the light of ksharewar, kaveh

nsfw. pwp (porn w/o plot) okay well theres a tiny bit more plot than cyno’s, degradation, spanking, oral (f!receiving) fingering, just nasty and filthy, oh yeah he spits in your mouth 👍

men of the harem mlist <3

the light of ksharewar is a kind man. he’s known for taking in abandoned animals, always stopping to give cash to anyone on the side of the road, constantly looking out for others. he’s sweet, generous, gentle, everything soft.

he’s gentle with the children that flock towards him at the palace, he’s gentle with the birds that fly near his window and sing for him, he’s gentle with the way he holds you. his arm is linked with yours as the two of you take a stroll around the garden.

“the garden is lovely, isn’t it, kaveh?” you smile as your fingers trace the petals of the purple rose. kaveh glances at your smile and replies back,

“yes, my lady. they’re gorgeous…” kaveh feels a blush creeping up his neck and cheeks. he clears the throat before you continue to drag him along the path. the garden of this palace is ginormous. there’s a lake resting in the northern corner, an area for the birds and animals to rest, there’s even a trail used for horseback riding. kaveh’s very fond of that specifically. as the two of you watch a few other castle members ride the horses, kaveh is struck with an idea.

“my lady, do you know how to ride a horse?” your ears perk up at the idea as you shake your head.

“i was never taught these things as a child. can you teach me, kaveh?” you ask him so sweetly, he couldn’t possibly dream of saying no (he wasn’t going to anyway.)

“yes, of cour-“ a voice interrupts the two of you. this a frequent occurrence, kaveh bitterly says in his head. the amount of times he has tried to spend quality time with you, only to be interrupted less than an hour in is ridiculous. he stares at the knight with a sour look on his face.

“your highness, you presence is requested by miss nahida.” the knight says and promptly steps to the side, allowing you space to walk. you look at kaveh, your lips pouting.

“im so sorry, kaveh. i don’t know why this keeps happening. i promise i will make it up to you.” kaveh, trying his best to be a model lover simply smiles at you.

“don’t worry, my lady. you have duties to attend to. i will be here if you need me. go,” you lean on your toes before pressing a kiss onto his cheek. and before he knows it, you’re gone. kaveh’s extremely frustrated. it’s like someone is out to get him. he grumbles, before deciding to head back to his room.

for hours, kaveh throws himself into his work. he’s designing a new building made for ambassadors of other nations. he flicks his pencil in one direction, before erasing it again. he hasn’t gotten much done besides think of you. the sun that was once high and bright was now gone. the birds that chirped were all fast asleep. you should be asleep by now, kaveh thinks.

however, in your bedroom you’re struggling to sleep. a dull throb between your legs makes falling asleep almost impossible. the idea of having kaveh pressed so close to you as he teaches you to ride a horse had your filthy brain buzzing. would he be a gentle teacher and guide you softly with his voice right next to your ear? would be chide and tease you for messing up your posture?

you can feel yourself getting even more wet at the thought of kaveh. a shudder spread through your body as you sit up on your bed. head in your hands, you hesitate on visiting kaveh’s quarters. is he asleep right now? would you be disturbing him?

one of the knights escorts you to kaveh’s room, knocking on the door with their heavy metal plates. you squint your eyes at the loud noise, stomach churning. it takes a few moments for kaveh’s assistant to answer the door.

“your highness? is everything alright?” he looks at you worried, his eyes anxiously darting outside. the knight clears his throst before shaking his head,

“her majesty requests to meet with lord kaveh. is he awake?” the knight widens his eyes a bit, trying to hint at kaveh’s assistant as to what you were there for. his eyes bulge before he clears his throat, laughing awkwardly. with pink cheeks he opens the door to the common area, allowing you inside. the assistant points to the talk, dark oak doors.

“lord kaveh is in his bedroom. he is awake, go ahead, your highness.” he quickly bows before leaving the room. you stand there awkwardly with your sock-cladded feet getting a feel of the carpet you stand on. it’s very soft, you note. you hesitate as you knock on kaveh’s door.

“come in!” he shouts, nonchalantly. you take a deep breath before opening the door. your anxiety spikes as you see him erasing the material on the paper, before grumbling. it hits you like a train that this is the first time you’ve ever been in any of the harem’s bedrooms. even the first night, you could not find anytime to visit them due to political issues. you’ve been inside their common rooms, but never bedrooms.

as you look around the room, it reminds you so heavily of kaveh. there’s photos of his creations around the room, miniature creations on shelves, a few pot plants around the room, and the heavy smell of incense fills your nose. the room is warm, cozy. it screams kaveh. it makes you smile slightly. kaveh finally turns around to look at you, eyebrows raised.

“your highness? what brings you here so late?” his voice is laced with worry as he quickly stands up and walks near you. the window near his desk is open, making kaveh’s bangs sway slightly. as you look up at the older man, your expression morphs into one of awe.

he is gorgeous. his hair is tied up in a messy bun, a pencil securing it. his reading glasses perfectly suit his face. his eyes show signs of fatigue. you subconsciously reach a hand out and rub his eye bags with your thumb. he smiles at the feeling of your warm palms.

“my lady? is everything alright?” you still don’t speak to him. you watch his lips move, but never listen to his words. instead, you stand in your toes and lean up to kiss him. he happily accepts the kiss, leaning onto the edge of his desk. he pulls you between his legs, hands snug on your hips.

kaveh has been craving you for days now. you’re always just barely out of his reach and he’s too selfless to ask for what he wants. he would rather wallow in self-pity than ever ask for anything that isn’t directly handed to him in fear of burdening others.

as your lips melt with his, kaveh finds himself wanting more from you. with your hands in his hair and body pressed to his, kaveh decides to be selfish today. damn everything and everyone, he will have you tonight. he guides you gently towards his bed without breaking your kiss. he lays you down against his fluffy pillows, you bare legs touching his soft, wool blankets. kaveh pulls away— regrettably— from the kiss. he looks at your swollen lips as you pant. he moves your hair away from your face.

you’re hit with a sudden wave of insecurity, as you scramble to cover your face. he rubs his nose against yours as he settles between your legs.

“you never did answer my question, my lady. why are you here with me, hm? did you miss me? do you require any sort of comfort?” his lips brush against your ears, eliciting little gasps from you. he smiles against your skin, leaving kisses on your neck.

“i wanted to see you,” your hands curl on his bicep, the other arm looping around his neck. you wanted him so bad, you wanted to feel him all around you, have all of your senses scream of kaveh. “i needed you, kaveh. it was horrible,” your voice is needier than intended.

“is that so?” his hands land on your thighs, dragging your night dress up your body. his hands land on the soft skin of your waist, squeezing it slightly. his fingertips are calloused and rough compared to your soft, sweet skin. “you must have been having such a difficult time, baby.” his fingers delve between your legs.

his thumb rubs up and down your clothed slit, making you buck into his palm. there’s tears filling your pretty eyes. it has kaveh cooing and kissing your cheeks. “what got you so worked up, my lady?”

words can’t form in your mind as kaveh’s tongue swirls around your clothed nipple. kaveh has you arching into his mouth, silently (loudly) begging for more. your hips rut against his palms, needing more. kaveh kisses down your torso, lifting your nightgown up. he moves your panties to the side, watching globs of your slick rolling down your cunt. he has to stop himself from moaning out loud at the sight.

“i asked you something, my lady. can you please answer?” kaveh looks up at you. you watch as his tongue peaks out from hips lips, lapping against your clit. “please, your highness. i need to know,” the whiny tone in his voice and his pleading eyes make you gush even more. kaveh’s lips curl upwards as he feels you gush around his slender fingers.

“riding,” that’s the only word you say, as your fingers tangle into his blonde locks. his hair is so soft, so silky it make syiu slightly envious. kaveh cocks his eyebrow, smirking.

“riding? you find riding horses pleasurable? or something else?” kaveh tries not to think of the multitude of times he’s had you ride him per your request. he definitely doesn’t think of your tits bouncing in his face or the way he would grope the fat of your tummy or thighs, or even how your ass bounces too. his cock definitely doesn’t chub up at the thought.

“no,” you say breathless. you tug harder on his hair as his fingers piston themselves in and out of your sloppy cunt. the squelching noise makes the flush on your face even deeper. your breath is taken away from you when kaveh’s thumb starts rubbing your clit up and down.

“no? then what do you mean, your highness.” he chuckles slightly, seeing the way you struggle to keep your composure. you bite your thumb, keeping your noises to a minimum. kaveh’s free hand reaches up and pins your hand against your chest. “don’t stay quiet, my lady. please? i love hearing your noises.”

kaveh expertly applies pressure onto your clit as he flicks him thumb up, watching your eyes roll back as you gasp and moan. your legs tremble around his wrist. he watches as slick drips down your slit and the way you try to suck his fingers deeper. he kisses your inner thigh, smiling.

“she’s so greedy. she’s so tight around my fingers, your highness.” your head dips into the pillows, heels digging into the mattress. you feel yourself drawing closer and closer to cum all over kaveh’s fingers and he knew it. his thumb is replaced by his lips not before speaking to you,

“tell me what made you like this, baby. or im not letting you cum,” he sees the panic flood in your lust driven eyes. your bottom lip trembles as you blabber,

“i wanted you,” your brain is far too mudded to even articulate what exactly you wanted from kaveh. he teases far too much, you think. yet, it feel so good. it makes you want to curl into yourself and giggle and smile until your cheeks ache.

“what did you want from me?” he leans upwards, thunb going back to your clit. his lips ghost over yours, his green eyes darken with lust and need. “a kiss? a hug? what exactly was it, your highness. im no psychic, i cannot read your mind,”

his tone is so demeaning. he mocks your whiney tone every time his fingers curl into you before they swiftly piston in and out of your pussy. your shake your head, tears dripping down your pretty face and it makes kaveh coo.

“come on, your highness. i know somewhere in that pretty head of yours you know how to answer me correctly,” kaveh steals a kiss from you, his tongue sucking on your. his free hand presses on your tongue as his saliva drips into your mouth. you watch as the liquid pools onto your tongue, making you keen. you whimper under him.

“final chance, my lady. or else i’ll have them escort you back to your chambers,” he’s so mean! your fingers dig into his wrist, sobbing.

“i wanted you to fuck me, kaveh. i really wanted you to touch me like this. please, please. i really want to cum, kaveh. please, please.” little please fall from your swollen lips and kaveh swears he almost came in his pants over it. he smiles, kissing you on the forehead.

“was that so difficult, baby? cum, honey. cum for me, yeah?” as soon as he says it, you gush around his fingers, back arching into him as you strain a moan out of your lips. his name falls from your lips like a mantra “kaveh, kaveh, kaveh”

kaveh is all you know. you smell him, feel him, taste him, hear him, see him. everything is kaveh. he peppers kisses down your jaw and neck. “there, there your highness.” he kisses your hair so sweetly. he gathers you in his arms, seating you onto his lap. your wet core brushes over his bulge, making him groan. your hand palms at his pants, making kaveh gasp under you. he moves your hand higher, onto his belt and you make quick work of removing it.

before you know it, you’re lining yourself up with his cock, eager to sink into it. you can practically taste the way his cock will sweetly stretch you out. he sees the impatience with the way you rub the tip up and down your slit. you look at him with the glassy eyes, begging him.

“please, kaveh..” he smiles, kissing your cheeks and lips befofe he sinks you down onto his cock. and oh great archons, it’s even better than you remember. his cock stretches you out deliciously as you try your best to sink until the base. your fingers leave blunt marks in his skin. kaveh practically whimpers as your cunt is wrapped around his cock. he can’t even believe the noises that came out of him. he swears he could cum just from this.

kaveh watches in awe. you quickly adjust to his size before you’re quick to bounce up and down his cock. his hand presses against your back, arching your forward. he keeps your shoulders straight as he whispers,

“this is the correct riding form. your hands,” he grabs your smaller hands, placing them on his shoulders. “should be right here. your chin should be high. look down at me, but do not move your head.” you nod, fixing your posture as he says. his hand on your hips keeps your bouncing on his cock. you tits bounce in his face and he cant help but wrap his lips around it. he feels your shoulders curve forward and he places a sharp slap on your ass.

“i just showed you the correct way to sit. surely you’re not that far gone that you can’t understand basic instructions, my lady?” you shake your head as your sniffle. you let out meek apologies before straightening your back, posing just as kaveh said. your stomach pools with heat at the thought of his spanking you again. it couldn’t hurt to indulge in your fantasies every now and then, right?

kaveh roughly bucks up into you, fucking himself right against that sweet spot and your posture faltered again. you yelp, nails digging into his arms. your head rests against his shoulder as he fucks up into you, continuing to spank you. the pain feels so sweet, but it stings so bad. he tuts under his breath,

“my lady, are you incompetent at understanding basic instructions?” your breath hitches as his fingers rub circles over the irritated skin. but that soothing sensation is replaced by sharp pain as kaveh smacks you once more. “i suppose i have my answer,” he half laughs as he roughly bucks up into you.

this is paradise, you think. you slump over kaveh as he continues to rut into your pussy, pulling sweet noises from you. every so often he smacks you once more, but that only makes your toes curl and eyes roll back. he watches the way his cock goes in and out of you, a thick creamy white ring at the base of his cock showcasing just how filthy your pussy is.

“fuck,” he moans, head rolling back. kaveh enjoys himself in this bliss. your pussy is so warm and wet around him. this was so worth the wait, kaveh thinks. he watches your fucked out expression smile at him before you pull him into a kiss. he was a goner. he squirts his cum deep in your pussy. simultaneously, you cum all over his cock, milking him for all he’s worth.

kaveh’s chest heaves up and down as he calms down from his high. when you lift yourself off his cock and lay on the bed, he kisses you. he walks around to find your panties. he gently liftd your leg to clean you up, but he watches the way globs on his cum drool from your pussy and his dick cubs up again. you watch in real time as his dick hardens at the sight.

“we have all night,” kaveh lines himself up with your leaky hole. “why not make use of it?”

#// men of the harem au #kaveh x reader #kaveh x you #kaveh x y/n #kaveh smut #genshin kaveh #genshin impact kaveh #genshin x reader #genshin smut

339 notes · View notes

cherubfae · 2 months

Text

|| love rival || Akatsuki x reader

They're now realizing what a mistake it was to introduce you to the group, now they have competition with their own teammate.

tags: former ninja!reader, gn! civilian reader, established relationships, threats, violence, protective!akatsuki, slightly suggestive in Sasori's || MDNI

Pain

He knows that Konan is harmless and she's not the sort of disrespectful person to go sniffing about where she doesn't belong, especially where he and his partner are concerned. Pain, however, cannot tolerate the lingering touches Konan gives you as she passes by. Her hand brushing yours, guiding you with an arm around your shoulders, and blushing at you. He feels a warning is warranted.

"You are my dear friend, Konan, I have known you many years, but this simply won't do. You are better than how you are acting. Be respectful and leave them alone, and I won't need to inflict pain upon you."

Konan

Oh, well isn't this troublesome. Konan isn't the type to make idle threats, but Pain is her commander and leader. That would not be a wise decision on her part, but she does trust her long-time friend to be somewhat respectful and not place you in any situation where you would be uncomfortable. She's not above putting her foot down if she really must.

"Sir, with all due respect, my partner isn't interested and we would both appreciate you to mind your manners."

Obito

You are his everything. He would destroy the entire world for you. Level mountains, tame seas, there isn't anything he wouldn't do as long as it's within his power. He's pretty surprised that Zetsu even took a liking to you, as he's not one that's expressed interest in most anything other than his eating habits.

"Surely Zetsu is mistaken. My partner isn't a corpse for you to munch on you, nor are they yours for the taking. Keep your distance and I won't have to bloody you up too much."

Zetsu

As with anything, both sides of him are at a near constant quarrel with each other. His light side trying to reassure his darker side that Tobi is harmless and doesn't mean anything malicious by taking interest in you.

"Tobi is a good boy, he means no harm." "His harm is his unwarranted interest in our beloved partner. Fool! You have no sense, do you?"

Hidan

Honestly he could laugh so hard he may undo the stitches in his neck. That old fucker wants his partner?? Is he actually serious?

"Haha! That's fucking rich! You've gotta be at least one-hundred by now, huh? Fuck off, geezer! They're not yours!"

Kakuzu

Clearly decapitating Hidan over and over doesn't make him talk any less. Neither does stabbing him-- but it sure does take the edge off. Kakuzu would rather not deal with the younger man's insufferable stubbornness. You are his lover, his alone, and Hidan had no chance in whatever the fuck kind of afterlife his mighty lord Jashin provides. None. Fuck off, Hidan.

"As if they'd want someone as lowly as you. You don't even pay for your own shit. Remember your place or I won't hesitate to remove you from this world permanently. One swipe and your head will be freed from your miserable shoulders. I'm sure all sorts of insects would love to burrow inside of that hollow space."

Itachi

For a moment he's reminded of Sasuke's little schoolboy crush on you, except Kisame isn't Sasuke. He is a grown adult capable of getting in the way of Itachi's livelihood. Threatening the sanctity of his relationship. He's unlikely to do much other than step in if he crosses any boundaries or makes you uncomfortable. So until something is said, it's just this weird, heavy atmosphere. Kisame starts to speak but Itachi cuts him off immediately.

"Keep their name out of your mouth, Kisame. I won't warn you again."

Kisame

Oftentimes he wonders how lonely Itachi is. He annihilated his entire clan save for his younger brother in a single night. He took away everything he loved and for what? He can appreciate Itachi's past but Kisame doesn't take too kindly to the eldest Uchiha brother being a bit too welcoming and protective of his partner.

"Itachi, a word of advice. Don't shit where you eat. And keep your nose out of other's relationships. You're a good, respectable man and I appreciate your concern in my partner's well-being. Let me handle it from here."

Sasori

There's still the age-old artistic view difference between the two: eternal art vs shortlived art. One could argue both have their merits, but even after all these years it was a sore subject between the blonde and redhead duo. And now you were thrown into the mix.

"If you truly think you're so superior to me, Deidara, then perhaps you'd be more open to what a waste your art truly is. My partner prefers eternal, long-lasting, but there's nothing long nor lasting about, is there?"

Deidara

This was great. Jusssst great. Sasori had been hanging around his area of the hideout more and for what, Deidara wasn't sure. Until he recalled that you had been given special permission to visit from Pain himself. You'd forsaken your village long ago and clearly had no interest in reporting them, so it was allowed. Sasori had begun skulking about ever since and the blonde could guess why he might be drawn to you.

"If you even think about turning my partner into a fuckin' puppet, I won't hesitate to kill you, Sasori. No matter which way I go about it, you'll end up in splinters. So, I repeat. Stay the fuck away from them, hmm."

|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024

#akatsuki x reader #akatsuki imagines #naruto x reader #naruto imagines #pain x reader #pein x reader #konan x reader #zetsu x reader #obito uchiha x reader #hidan x reader #kakuzu x reader #itachi uchiha x reader #itachi x reader #obito x reader #kisame x reader #sasori x reader #deidara x reader #cherubfae 2024

328 notes · View notes

loveliestlovelygirl · 2 months

Text

divine temptations | 222

you're such an angel, and i'm gonna hurt you

fallenangel!anakin x nun!reader | lore 🪽 | playlist

synopsis: after the meeting with the high council, anakin is imprisoned publicly to shame him. in his hatred for your guardian angels, he destroys them, causing chaos to overcome both heaven and earth.

w.c: 2.6k+

highlights: {minors dni} dark content, heavy religious themes and imagery, inspiration taken from catholicism primarily, sexual themes, corruption kink, light sexualization of the reader as a nun, fem!reader & use of she/her pronouns, attempted sexual assault {mentioned}, rape {mentioned}

table of contents | 333 {coming soon}

The memories of his assault of your vessel were visceral and disturbing weeks after the event. Your neck was left bruised, and it ached for several days. Sometimes, you couldn’t sleep because every time you closed your eyes you were sent back to that moment where you were at your weakest, helpless against that tree. Almost raped. Almost.

Almost is a taunting thought

You believed that, since you hadn’t been defiled, you shouldn’t be bothered by the occurrence for long. You shouldn’t have these nightmares of being raped over and over again. You shouldn’t feel vulnerable. You would simply return to your beautiful life here at the convent, your sanctuary. A place where you never have felt unsafe or threatened in any way. You loved the women here, and they loved you.

The last time you were vulnerable like this was your past life when you were a part of the world, before you had found the monastic way of life. Never did you believe you would have to feel pain like this again.

Hatred lights the path of the fallen. But you hate that man for what he wanted to do to you. How could someone be so wicked?

And every time you thought of his face, you cried and sometimes wished for death. These were thoughts that haven’t scathed your mind since you entered the convent. But perhaps contact with that despicable man left you tainted. Maybe you needed to be cleansed and prayed over, bathed in the holy waters.

What other recourse did you have?

When you explained to your sisters why you required the service, they were more than happy to pray over you. They prepared the bath for you too. Sister Agnes remained with you the entire time to help guide your prayers. The water must have risen an inch from your tears. After the bath, Sister Agnes walked you back to your private chamber.

She broke into a sob. “Oh, my dear,” the elderly woman wiped her tears, “We shouldn’t have allowed you to go near the road alone.”

You drew her into a hug. Of course, they should have sent you with another. But all you could say to the heartbroken woman was, “Don’t worry about it. I feel much better now. Our Lord protected me.”

Sister Agnes cried harder when you said that. The new expression upon her wrinkled face was one of relief. She truly believed you. And you were happy that she would not share your pain.

You bid her goodnight and went inside your room to pray. When you wanted to feel closer to the Creator, you opened your window to let the moonlight in and knelt before your window seat, setting a pillow under your knees, a makeshift prayer bench. While it was not the proper way in which to address Him, you were not so sure He minded.

For the first few minutes, you sobbed, thanking Him for the lightning that only struck your assailant and not you. The electricity only touched your skin momentarily. It was as if there had been a barrier between you and Death. You should have both died from the lightning, but only that man did. The miraculous occurrence saved you from an even greater pain.

But the thought did little to comfort you. Why you? What made you so special that you deserved a supernatural rescue and so many others didn’t? The thing that should have brought you to your knees in gratitude and praise of your savior made you... question everything, including how heavenly justice worked?

Although, the whole incident could have been some cosmic joke.

And despite spending the whole day in prayer with your sisters, you felt the same. You were still terrified about what happened. So much so that sleep was an impossible feat. During all your time at the convent prior to the horrific event, you embraced solitude and found contentment. But this night, you wouldn’t have hated companionship, someone to hold you tight and tell you that you were safe here.

“You can’t say that, Anakin! Do you understand the gravity of this situation? Do you?” Obi-Wan had never shown his anger so outwardly before. Anger marked his brow, his furious stare, his clenched jaw, and his haunting tone.

Anakin could sense his fear, despite the rage his friend used to hide it. They both understood that what Anakin had done was enough to have him sent to hell for all eternity. Their father was not so lenient of the angelic hosts as he was of humans. The humans were free to sin, and forgiveness was offered to them at every turn. And yet somehow, they still missed the chance to ascend to the heavenly realms. Most chose to trade their vaporous lives for eternity. And the Creator allowed it because of free will.

“But it’s true, Obi-Wan. There’s nothing you can do,” Anakin said emotionlessly. The chains of light were clamped tightly round his ankles, keeping him grounded. Nothing can break them except for the Creator’s Will.

He was chained to the platform right outside the chambers of the High Council, like he was an animal on display. And to the rest of the heavenly host, Anakin was a creature of anomaly. Seraphim were respected for their unbreakable devotion to Him above all else, yet Anakin wished for nothing more than to leave his place of honor. He wanted to be able to visit the Earth realms. He wanted to seduce you.

“I will try to change his mind,” Obi-Wan said to him with all hope. “He is more understanding than you give him credit for.”

With that, Obi-Wan disappeared. His wings were so quick that he moved almost at light’s speed. And Anakin was alone again in his humiliation. But he didn’t mind because now he could give you all his attention. He watched you as he always did. But this time he was not pleased by what he saw.

Never had he seen you so unhappy. He’d never witnessed you cry for anything but joy. The visions you saw in your sleep. You believed they were nightmares, but he saw the demons torturing your mind as clearly as he could see you below. Your good-for-nothing guardians were evidently too busy to cast them away. Anakin would do that for you, but he was in a bad place as it was. Interfering with your life again wouldn’t be prudent. If the Creator did not eliminate him, Obi-Wan certainly would. So, this time, he did as he should, and he merely observed from a distance, watching you cry your eyes out and writhe in pain only felt by your spirit.

The more he watched the heavier his own spirit weighed. If your guardians had served you faithfully, then you wouldn’t be left understandably traumatized from the event. It was almost too hard for him to watch you this way. But he couldn’t leave you alone like this. Even if you didn’t know he was there. He couldn’t let you out of his sight.

And as your pain grew deeper, so did his hate for those who failed in their calling to protect you. Unlike the other angels, Anakin struggled to contain his hate. No one who harmed you was free of his wrath. Certainly not your guardian angels.

The heavens erupted into chaos. Anakin had lost himself to his own wrath. He couldn’t hold it in anymore. He had been punished for saving you from being violated, and those who failed in their duty to protect you were left completely unscathed. And for someone who already, secretly despised the entire heavenly host and whose hatred was like a forgotten thorn in one’s side festering for ages, obliterating your five guardians in one hailstorm of fiery rage was as simple as taking a breath for him.

Instantly, he was reprimanded by the Creator directly. In a single moment, ejected from the heavenly realms, banished to dwell upon Earth until the end of time. Hell, where he would now spend eternity, was his final destination. The mercy of the Creator saved him from being sent there first. Earth was to be his Sheol, a temporary hell.

But did they forget that his interests lie only with you. Did they fail to notice that this might be what he wanted all along? Even if he only had until the end of time with you, he knew that it would be worth it. Though you were unaware at this time, nothing would keep him from you. The laws of heaven no longer applied to him. He was free to torment the earthly beings, though that wasn’t nearly as alluring as possessing you.

Banished from Heaven and sent to Earth, he lost his heavenly title, and his name was written among the fallen. He kept his beauty in full, but now as an angel of light. And despite having wanted this to happen, being reprimanded so heavily over what he saw as the right thing to do irked him. And the pain that he felt you living through as a result of your guardians’ inadequacy ignited his fury in ways devastating to the Earth.

His rage awoke nature’s spirits. Thunder, Lightning, Rain, and Hail terrorized the inland villages. He disrupted the seas, wreaking havoc on coastal cities, leaving them destroyed in his wake. And nothing was put in place to stop him.

The voices of the High Council rang in his ears as they pleaded with him to end his madness. But Anakin was drunk on power, the lack of restraint he now possessed, for the fallen were given domain over the Earth for a time of unknown length. He didn’t believe in redemption. His thought was why not enjoy it here. The earthly realms were to be his last Heaven.

For weeks, the destruction by Anakin’s fury continued.

Obi-Wan was sent to stop and contain him. But Obi-Wan believed, perhaps foolishly, that Anakin’s heart could be changed.

The cherub appeared before him, glory to glory, withholding nothing. And yet the majesty of the fallen one was still unmatched.

“You know why I am here,” Obi-Wan announced, wielding his fiery blade, directing its point to the enemy.

Anakin could not cower in the presence of the threatening blade. That was beneath him. “Do I?”

“Given more time, Earth and its surrounding realms will be destroyed. This lust for power has consumed you.”

He was not blind to his own faults. But under his own authority, he could do as he pleased. Destroying this realm would be good. Nothing good has come from mankind. Not in his eyes. From his view, he could see the suffering humans enacted upon each other and upon the Earth, the very thing which provides them life. The only good in this world was you. And he had plans to sweep you away. Far away.

“The one that you love. You’re going to kill her. She will hate you.”

Anakin gave him a biting glare. If Obi-Wan knew... then that meant so did He. And the rest of Heaven. “I’d never hurt her. I can see her now. She’s sleeping. She doesn’t know what’s happening.”

“What do you think will happen when you destroy her life? Everything and everyone she cares for? You don’t think that would hurt her?”

“Obi-Wan, you have no idea! Did you see what happened to her? What almost happened? I live through her pain. I want to save her from evil. Can you not understand?”

The cherub refused to back down. His blade was still held high. “This is not up for debate. I have been sent to put an end to your insanity one way or another.”

Anakin smiled wickedly. “Oh... by killing me?”

“That depends on you, my friend.”

Anakin did not understand.

“Our Father wishes to offer you a deal. He has changed his mind on your punishment. But...” Obi-Wan sighed and shook his head, “only if you put an end to your anger now. It is not the Creator’s Will for the Earth to be done away with yet.”

In order to declare his interest, Anakin immediately paused his merciless pillaging of the surface. “I am listening.”

In return, Obi-Wan sheathed his blade of fire. “He knows how strongly you care for this human.” His voice was coated with disgust for the lesser being. “He knows exactly what she means to you and what you’re willing to give up for her. In his divine grace, He is willing to make an exchange with you. Give up your dominion over this realm, and he’ll allow you to be her guardian, though not an angel. But your eternal status, depends on how well you serve her.”

This offer was... merciful.

Beyond what Anakin knew he deserved. Not only was he being offered a chance for redemption, but he was being offered the one thing he craved most in the entire universe. As your guardian, he would have unbridled access to you and your beautiful mind. At his discretion, he could even appear to you, making his existence known to you.

Being known by you...

The thought of that was more than even he could process in all of his great understanding.

He was used to being veiled from you completely. Contact had been forbidden. But with this offer, you would be in his grasp. He could travel between dimensions and allow his glory to be witnessed by your perfect gaze. Anakin could not stop his curiosity at what it might feel like to be seen by you. Would he prefer it? Or would he dislike the contact? His intuition whispered that he would like it very much and that he might even find it addicting.

How could he say no?

“I... accept.”

Obi-Wan did seem surprised in the slightest. “I see. I will inform Him of your decision. You will feel weakened very soon. I understand that... you wanted this. But I don’t understand why. You-you, Anakin, held the position of the highest honor. Why would—”

“I never wanted any of it. I wanted to be free to pursue my singular interest.”

Obi-Wan chuckled. “I would be cautious in your new role, Anakin. More than ever before. Because this is a test. Did you believe that you were truly going to get everything you wanted without a cost? If you serve her faithfully all her life, an eternity with us is yours. But the temptations you will face as her guardian, I’m not sure you can handle it.”

“What?” Anakin spat. “Protecting a human is practically a mindless affair. That’s why it’s given to the lowest of all angels.”

“Realize that even that group is superior to where you stand currently,” he added humorously.

“I won’t be able to physically harm humans in this form. So, don’t worry. I won’t kill anyone.”

“That was not the temptation I was referring to.”

Anakin realized what his friend meant. So he quipped, “Lust is a human feeling.”

“Is it?”

“What do you mean, is it?” Anakin said mockingly.

“Do not be quick to assume anything. You’ve never been in the earthly realms before. It’s much different. You may find yourself desiring things that seemed unnatural to you before.” Obi-Wan turned, signaling his departure. “Remember the laws of Heaven. Despite your fallen state, if you wish for eternity in Heaven, where she will most certainly end up, you must abide by our laws.”

Eternity in Heaven with the one he craves. There was hardly a better fate in mind even if he never ascended to the honor he once claimed.

add yourself to my taglist!! @hanasnx @princessswifie @doblasftcisco @multifandermissesanakin @jadegmfu @coldkiss @mysteriouslydelightfulcloud @karei009 @anda-the-valkyrie @vinushkka @avoxzy @edclynns @ter-luer @anakinniesluv @purelevna @forets-noyees @zvjezdapadalica @anisgirl7 @reine-lalune @ssskywalkerrr @anakinsbbgirl @sweetcheesecakesblog @rozastarz @moonlight-kr @anonymous1996s @luvanaise @ziggystarduzzt @gwdnsqal @lonelywitchv2 @tembud @obsessedrebel @c-losur3 @just-here-to-readd @slut4ani @abaker74 @anakinbbg @ellebunnie @sandymorgan12 @ultraviolenceticket @emotionallybruisedx @ririszn @itsoneofusworld @pheonixfucu @kittycai @mushy-mushroom04 @crack240 @emotionallybruisedx

@ejs398 @anakinsgirlfriendreal

#best viewed in dark mode :)#loveliestlovelygirl #lovely fics #divine temptations #fallenangel!anakin #nun!reader #anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin smut #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin fanfiction #anakin x reader smut #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin x you #anakin skywalker x you

189 notes · View notes

prythianpages · 2 months

Text

'Cause Somewhere in the Crowd There's You | Lucien

summary: When Tamlin sends Lucien to the Night Court as his emisssary, he stumbles upon a nightclub and finds himself captivated by you. His sweet nightingale.

warnings: angst, mentions of blood and violence (reader is trapped in a nightclub)

a/n: This is part of my ABBA x ACOTAR series (masterlist) where I dedicate a song to a character (: but also was inspired by Lana Del Rey's music and a hint of Oscar Wilde ♥️ This takes place roughly before Amarantha's rule. If I'm going to be honest, I find Lucien hard a bit hard to write for (but this song really gave me lucien vibes) so I hope this doesn't come off a bit out of character for him. also why is it so hard to find pics that match Lucien's vibe on pinterest.

Trapped in the ceaseless rhythm of melancholic blues, you can’t help but feel sick and tired of everything. Days blur into nights. All you do is eat and sleep and sing. The weight of routine presses down on you, suffocating the spark that once fueled your passion.

You wish every show to be your last.

That is, until you see him.

He emerges from the crowd like a radiant sun breaking through the darkest night. His presence is tall and striking with skin kissed by the sun and a cascade of red hair. Despite the length of scars that run down the left side of his face, there is an undeniable elegance and beauty that surrounds him. His eye holds you captive, drawing you in like a moth to a flame and your voice falters for a brief note.

Lucien knows he should leave. Hewn city is not a welcoming one and his meeting with the High Lord of the Night Court did not go well. But against the warning bells ringing in his head, he decides to linger and wander around the dark city. With no clear destination in mind, his feet guide him through the labyrinthine alleys until, almost as if compelled by an unseen force, he stands before the entrance of a mysterious nightclub. Bathed in an eerie red light, the sign above reads The Rose.

As he approaches, the entrance, despite being small, appears almost ethereal. Shadows dance upon the towering stone walls. The air is thick with an alluring blend of magic, pleasure and something darker. Inside is just as mysterious and intoxicating. He should leave and he turns around to do so when he a mesmerizing sound stops him and holds him in place.

“In the land of gods and monsters.”

A beautiful and heavenly voice. It beckons him forward like a siren’s call and he allows the fae lights embedded in the cavern to guide him further. The corners of the nightclub harbor hidden alcoves, draped in luxurious silks and velvet.

“I was an angel living in the garden of evil.”

Some high fae engage in secretive exchanges and gambles. Some are lost in the enigmatic allure of drinks and colorful powders that shimmer with enchantments. Some are engrossed in the pretty fae females and males on their laps. Others, like him, are captured by the hauntingly beautiful song.

“You got that medicine I need. Fame, liquor, love, give it to me slowly.”

Where ancient stone meets polished wood, Lucien finds himself at the bar and orders a drink. He turns to face the stage in the center of the club, leaning against the bar. His mechanical eye emits a soft whir as his gaze travels to the owner of the voice.

“Put your hands on my waist, do it softly.”

A silent awe washes over him as he takes in the sheer beauty before him. Dressed in a white gown that drapes over you like moonlit silk, you stand on the stage like an angel amidst the monsters that lurk in every corner of the place. The fabric mirrors your every movement as you sway to the rhythm of the song in small billowing waves.

“Me and the Mother, we don’t get along. So now I sing.”

It’s as if you sense his gaze on you because your siren eyes are searching the crowd. Mirroring the depths of a fathomless ocean, your eyes are pools of sadness and longing, yet there's a vulnerability that softens in them as they lock with his. Your voice slightly falters and for a heartbeat, time seems to stretch.

A tremor courses through you, fingers tightening their grip onto the microphone. Your eyes darken again and then you’re tearing your gaze away from Lucien. He follows it, curious eyes landing on a male who stands on the balcony facing the stage. Even from where Lucien stands, he can tell the male radiates power and money.

“No one’s gonna take my soul away.”

“They call her the Nightingale.” The bartender says to Lucien as he hands him his drink. Lucien’s gaze returns to you. “She’s off limits. I suggest finding another female to warm you for the night. There’s plenty to choose from here.”

Lucien says nothing in return. Those hadn’t been his intentions upon seeing you. He simply found himself struck by your presence. And as the enchanting notes of your song continue to soar, there’s a rising desire to learn more about you. The thought of extending his stay begins to take root, a subtle whisper tempting him to linger a while longer. He’ll write to Tamlin to reassure him and continue to negotiate with Rhysand further.

The gamble Lucien took to stay in Hewn city is a winning one with each passing night yielding more promising signs of Rhysand's willingness to compromise. It brings him relief as it gives him an excuse to visit the nightclub again. He returns the next night and then the following, noticing something new about you every time.

On the second night, he realizes the male you had glared at the first night he saw you was the owner of the nightclub. Lucien learns that he was right in his first impression of him. Benedict is a wealthy man, both in money and in connections, and is not subtle about the power he holds over this part of the city. Everyone in the nightclub bows down to him but not you. There’s a look of defiance in your eyes every time you look Benedict’s way.

On the third night, your usually hauntingly melancholic voice takes on a different, lighter tone. It’s still just as beautiful but now, harbors a sense of hope. And your eyes find Lucien’s with ease. You don’t break eye contact with him throughout the entirety of your performance that night, as though your song is a serenade meant solely for him.

It’s on the fourth night that he finally gets to talk to you.

Breaking from your routine of disappearing behind the stage curtains after performances, tonight, you grace the bar with your presence, drawing stares from some of the high fae. His grip tightens on his glass when he recognizes a dark hunger in most of them but even so, none dare to approach you.

“What will it be, lovely?” Lucien hears the bartender address you.

Taking the empty spot beside Lucien, your presence and proximity captivate him. His heartbeat falters momentarily as you graciously flip your hair, surrounding him with the divine scent of the sweetest rose.

“Just a water,” you reply and he hears the rustle of your dress as you turn to face him. “You’re not from here.”

Lucien’s lips twitch upwards. “What gave it away?”

“You’re not a monster.”

He finally turns to look at you, a strange warmth spreading through him. Ever since he lost his eye, he had battled with the scars tainting his skin, internalizing a sense of monstrousity. Yet, as you regard him, it feels as though you see an angel where he sees only imperfections.

His eye drinks you in, the mechanical one on the left whirring along. The corner of his lips lift up into a smirk when he catches you doing the same.

“How do you know I’m not a monster?”

“There’s something different about you. Something good,” your eyes study him carefully and then, with a soft sigh, you add, “It’d do you well not to dwell in places like this. They’ll only dim your light.”

Curiosity getting the better of him, Lucien asks, "And what about you?"

Your eyes widen, as though the question catches you off guard. "What about me?"

Despite the myriad thoughts swirling within him, he restrains himself and settles for, "You, too, don't seem to fit into this place.”

You fall into a thoughtful silence and your brow slightly furrows. Lucien keenly observes the subtle shift in your gaze as you scan the room before settling back on him. Leaning in as though sharing a secret, he instinctively leans closer. However, as he anticipates your words, you’re turning your back to him. Just as he's poised to speak, you sweep your hair aside, rendering him speechless as you show him instead.

A delicate tattoo is etched onto the skin between your shoulders—a bird confined within a cage.

“I can’t leave,” he hears your murmur and the ink on your skin appears to shimmer like stars in confirmation. A bargain permanently marked upon flesh. Your flesh and he swallows thickly at what your words imply.

You’re that bird, the nightingale, trapped in the cage.

“I have to go,” you say suddenly and your hair falls back into place, cascading down your back and concealing the telling tattoo. “Will you come by tomorrow?”

“I thought you said I shouldn’t dwell in places like this.”

“You shouldn’t,” you reply with a wistful smile and Lucien hates the way you drop your gaze.

“But I think I will.”

His words prompt your head to lift, eyes meeting his in surprise. A rush of excitement flushes your skin, transforming the wistful smile into one that is lighter, more promising. A fluttering sensation stirs in Lucien's stomach, and he can't help but return your smile.

A couple more days in Hewn City wouldn’t hurt.

Ten days ago, you were stuck in an endless loop of exhaustion and despair, where every night weighed heavily upon you. However, a welcome shift has occurred since then. Sleeping, eating and singing still consume most of your days but a newfound presence has entered the scene. Lucien.

And as the curtains are drawn back, revealing your presence to the awaiting audience, you embrace yourself for the blinding super trouper beams. Unlike nights past where a tinge of melancholy enveloped you, tonight is different.

You won’t feel blue, like you always do, because somewhere in the crowd there’s him.

Lucien’s presence is like a burst of brilliance, akin to the beaming lights that find you on the stage every night. When your eyes find his amongst the crowd, your pulse quickens and heat rushes to your cheeks. It’s like the sight of him proves to you that you're still alive.

In his wake, the shadows that linger in the club cower and hide away. He shines like the sun and you find his brightness infectious. It chases away the gloom that had settled over your own light, reigniting the flames of enthusiasm that had long dimmed within you.

Each note you sang resonated with newfound energy, and every performance became an opportunity to embrace the warmth and vitality he brought into your world. As the final notes of your song hang in the air, you can’t help but feel a sense of destiny. You were meant to meet Lucien.

After your performance, you sneak your way back to the bar where he waits for you.

“You came again,” you smile at him.

Lucien smiles back at you but it falters. “I’m afraid it’ll be the last time…for a while.”

The smile doesn’t waver off your face yet the glistening in your eyes reveals the threat of an emotional storm beginning to unfold. You refuse to dwell in it, not wanting to let the darkness that lingers over you like a gloomy cloud to consume you again.

“Okay,” you manage to breathe. You knew this day was coming. Lucien had to return back home, and you, regrettably, can’t go with him. “Let’s make the most of tonight, then. Dance with me?”

“Are you sure?” Lucien asks and you follow his gaze to where Benedict stands, a top of the balcony as always. You feel a rush of relief when you see a pretty female wrapped around him. A distraction. Perfect.

Lucien watches you, taking in every shift in your expression as he awaits for your answer. It’s not that he doesn’t want to dance with you. Gods, does he want to dance with you. Anything to be able to hold you close. To take you into his arms and hold you tight.

Unfortunately, he’s well aware of the tight leash Benedict keeps you on. He doesn’t let you stray far from his sight. You’re not allowed anywhere near the private nooks lining the club or the rooms at the back where private exchanges occur. It’s for your own safety and Lucien can’t be mad at that. What unsettles him is the way Benedict regards you as his most prized object and Lucien doesn’t want you to face consequences over a dance.

“Yes,” you finally answer.

There’s a strong certainty in your voice but also a subtle plea that tugs at his heartstrings. It brings forth a tightening in his chest. He suppresses the urge to frown. He plans to return to you but for now, it’s your last night together before he has to leave the Night Court.

Lucien graces you with a smile instead. He offers his hand to you, his eyes lighting up with a warmth that mirrors the blood coursing through his veins. A delightful shiver travels up his spine as your hand wraps around his. Until now, you’d only share glances, lingering stares and the occasional brushing of skin.

As the piano begins its enchanting melody, Lucien takes the lead, guiding you onto the dance floor. You’re so close you can feel the warmth of his body and all you want to do is melt into it. Melt into him. But you can’t.

So you bask in the warmth of his gaze instead. Up close, you can now appreciate the depth of his russet eye and you can’t help but marvel at the intricacies of the golden mechanical eye on the left. His gaze never strays from yours throughout the dance and the tender connection between you begins to rise under the brilliance of his gaze, pulling your heart with it.

As he holds you tight, you surrender to the intimate embrace, shedding all inhibitions. Neither of you speak, your eyes speaking for you. It feels as though the world has faded away, leaving just the two of you swaying in harmony. Smiling, having fun, where each step becomes a silent declaration of the unspoken feelings that have blossomed between you.

The passage of time remains elusive as you share the dance, the minutes slipping away unnoticed until the pianist gracefully bows to the audience. Your dance comes to a dreadful stop. Lucien's grasp on you tightens, a reluctant acknowledgment of the inevitable separation.

“I’ll come back for you,” he whispers, his promise carrying a tenderness that ignites a fervent flame within you. “I’ll find a way to help set you free, my sweet nightingale.”

He then pulls a pristine white rose, the same exact shade of white as the dress you wore when he first saw you, from the folds of his coat. He graces you with one last smile as he leans in, placing the rose carefully behind your ear. “Until then,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your temple and your eyes flutter shut.

“Until then,” you breathe and as Lucien walks away and the shadows inevitably return, you take delight in the way the darkness hesitates to claim you, leaving you untouched.

You can’t even bring yourself to care when Benedict corners you backstage, seething with anger. Of course, he noticed. You don’t even flinch when he throws his glass of whiskey toward the wall behind you, the shattered glass ricocheting. Some of them make their way to you, slicing your skin.

As you settle into the comfort of your small room, you retrieve the white rose from its perch behind your ear, cradling it delicately in your hand. A single drop of blood from one of your healing cuts taints the rose, painting one of the white petals red. Still, you cling onto the slender stem, gripping it as tightly as you grasp onto that fervent flame of hope burning within you. Your light will never dim again…

Because somewhere in Prythian, there’s him.

a/n: I'll admit this took an angstier turn than what I had intended but I hope you still enjoy this darker interpretation of ABBA's Super Trouper lol.

tagging: @scooobies

#lucien x reader #lucien x yn #lucien x you #acotar fanfiction #lucien fanfiction #lucien vanserra x you #lucien vanserra x reader #lucien vanserra fanfiction #lucien imagine #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar x y/n

207 notes · View notes