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prythiansprincess · 2 years ago

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shut up kiss me.

pairing: theodore nott x reader

song inspiration: shut up kiss me by angel olsen.

author's note: everyone say thank you to my love @writingsbychlo for fueling my delusions. constantly spamming her with my ideas because i have no self control when it comes to this man. there’s just something about theo fighting that makes me absolutely feral but i’ll hush now before i spoil it 🤭

Theodore. Fucking. Nott.

Those three words fueled your rampage as you marched across the quidditch pitch. The audacity of that cocky, arrogant, silver tongued Slytherin knew no bounds. For years, you tolerated the pompous prick and the rivalry between you, but today he had finally gone too far.

You cleared the field in less than a minute, passing by confused players as you angrily seethed. You spotted a shock of familiar platinum blonde hair and walked right up to Draco Malfoy.

“Where the hell is he?”

He chuckled, perfectly aware of your longstanding enmity with his closest friend. “What’s he done this time?”

“Where. Is. He?” you repeated through gritted teeth. “Don’t make me ask again, Malfoy.”

The blonde paled several shades when he saw the fire burning in your gaze. “Locker rooms. I wouldn’t go in there, Y/N. They’re still shower—“ Draco sighed as you brushed past him. “Whatever, it’s your funeral.”

The locker rooms were steamy, the heat and humidity clinging to your school uniform as you stalked through the aisles. The Slytherin players startled when they spotted you amongst their midst.

“Well, well, well,” Mattheo drawled as he leaned against the wall. A towel hung dangerously low on his hips and he smirked when your eyes flickered over his body. “What do we have here? A sweet little Hufflepuff marching straight into the viper’s den.”

“Where the fuck is he, Riddle?”

Mattheo grinned lazily. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that, sweetheart.”

“You know exactly who I’m talking about. Your arrogant prick of a friend who sent my fucking date to the hospital wing!”

Before you went to sleep last night, you had done so with a grin on your face after a wonderful date with Alec Stone at the Three Broomsticks, but then you arrived at breakfast this morning with no Alec in sight and the rumor mill rampant with talks of Theo pummeling some poor Ravenclaw in the courtyard.

You were going to kill him.

“Sorry, love. Doesn’t ring a bell.”

You frowned, purposely bumping against Mattheo as you walked further down the dimly lit aisle. In your trail for vengeance, you ran into a very flustered looking Enzo who yelped as he sought to cover his very naked torso.

“Y/N,” Enzo said, hastily wrapping a towel around his waist. “What are you doing in the locker rooms?”

Behind him, the sound of the shower running echoed against the marble tiles. “Is he in there?”

Berkshire’s face fell. “You heard about the fight?”

“It wasn’t a fight,” you said angrily. “He pummeled Alec so badly that he’s currently in the hospital wing with a concussion and several broken bones.”

“Just hear him out, okay?”

Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head. “Hear him out? Your precious Theodore beat the absolute shit out of my date and you want me to hear him out? For what? What reason could Theo possibly have for doing what he did to Alec? He couldn’t stand to see me have fun for two fucking seconds? This is low even for him and you know it, Enzo.”

“You don’t know the whole story, Y/N.”

“Well then please point me in the right direction so I can hear from the arsehole himself.”

“He’s in there,” Enzo said, pointing to the shower stalls. “But I’m warning you, Y/N. He’s in a proper foul mood.”

You huffed. “That makes two of us.”

The steam from the showers rose up like a malevolent fog, curling around your feet as you stormed through the stalls. You found him in the farthest corner, water trickling down his back as he faced the tiled wall. His body language was tense, like a serpent preparing to strike. A crimson trail swirled against the marble as blood dripped from Theo’s bruised knuckles. The sight of it incensed you.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Theo whipped his head towards your direction, his dark curls plastered against his cheek. Those watercolor eyes were stormy, the blues and greens flickering with anger as he met your gaze.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said dismissively.

“Bullshit!” You countered, stepping further into the stall. The steam barely covered Theo’s naked form, but you weren’t about to let that deter you from demanding answers. “You owe me a fucking explanation.”

“For what?”

“For what?” you repeated incredulously. “You beat Alec within an inch of his life and that’s all you have to say for yourself? Honestly Theodore, have you gone absolutely mental?”

“He deserved it.”

“Why? Because he took me out on a date? Because you couldn’t stand to let me have this one thing? You absolutely loathe the idea of me being even remotely happy, don’t you?”

Theo clenched his fists as his jaw twitched in anger. “No. I loathe the idea of that miserable excuse of a human being breathing the same air as you.”

“So you beat him to a bloody pulp?”

His voice was cold and icy, cutting through you like glass. “He’s lucky I didn’t do worse.”

“What do you have against Alec?” You moved closer to Theo, closing the gap as you poked his chest. The shower streamed over the both of you, blurring your vision. The water was hot against your skin, but it paled against the heat of your own anger. “What did he ever do to you, Theo?”

Theo gripped your wrist. You were vaguely aware of his nakedness, but he made no move to hide it and you were too furious to even care. “Don’t say his name. I can’t bear to hear you say it after what he said about you this morning.”

You stepped backward, flinching. “What—what are you talking about?”

When you met his gaze, you startled. You’d never seen Theo this angry before. His eyes, which were usually dead and expressionless, burned with a cold sort of fury.

“I heard him in the courtyard, bragging to his stupid friends. I thought he was just chatting shit, so I kept back. I only came down for a smoke, but then he said your name.”

The pit in your stomach grew. “What did he say?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. You weren’t sure you wanted to know. Not if he was this angry over it.

“The stupid fucking prick was talking about your date. The dress you wore. The smiles you gave him. The hand holding through Hogsmeade. Then one of his gormless mates asked if he got lucky.”

You froze at his words as a horrible feeling washed over you. Theo loosened his grip on your wrist, but didn’t let go.

“Do you know what that sodding idiot said? I will, soon enough. I can tell she’s raring to go.”

Tears pricked at your eyes. You felt like you were going to be violently sick.

“And his friends—those miserable fucking wankers started betting on how long it would take. Two dates. Three. A month.” Theo’s hands were shaking, violence spilling over into his veins. “That smug tosser smirked and said he could’ve had you out in the hallway. That’s how eager you were.”

“I barely even touched him!” you said angrily. “I kissed his cheek good night and that was it.”

“I know,” Theo said, his voice low and rough. “I know you. I knew he was lying, so I fucking lost it. I walked over there and just punched and punched until my knuckles were bloody and bruised and all I could see was red. I wanted to wipe that stupid fucking smirk off his mouth.”

You could picture Theo putting out his cigarette ever so calmly before walking over to throw the first punch. You’d seen him fight before. He was relentless. Where Mattheo was pure fire and rage, Theo was as cold as ice. There was nothing but lethal calm in those dead eyes as he delivered blow after blow in absolute silence.

“Eventually, Blaise and Enzo pulled me off of that prick.” He averted his gaze as if remembering the moment. “When his idiot friends finally peeled him off the floor, I spit on the fucker. I told him to consider it a warning. That I’d do a lot worse if I ever heard your name come out of his mouth again. I promised him that a concussion would be the least of his worries if he didn’t stay the fuck away from you.”

The tears fell down your cheeks despite your efforts to keep them in. The anger all but faded from Theo’s eyes as soon as he realized that you were crying. You were so, so stupid. For thinking Alec was a nice guy. For being so giddy after your date only for him to turn around and spit vile lies about you.

For crying in front of your worst enemy.

The color drained from Theo’s face as you cried into your hands. You felt him shift beside you, debating whether or not to come closer.

“Don’t,” you said through a broken sob. “Don’t come near me.”

Theo flinched at your words, looking visibly pained. His voice was soft and soothing when he spoke again. “Tell me how to fix it. Do you want to yell at me? Punch me? Go ahead, love. I can take it.” He sounded desperate. “Just please, please don’t cry.”

You hugged your arms around your waist and glared at him. “Why do you even care?”

He paused, fingers flexing at his side as he fought the urge to reach out and comfort you.

“Because I care about you!” The exasperation in his voice made your chest tighten. “I care that you let that stupid idiot take you on a date to the Three Broomsticks. I care that you fucking smiled at him when he gave you roses even though I know you prefer sunflowers. I care that you kissed him on the cheek when he dropped you off at your dorm.”

You sniffled, utterly perplexed at his words. “I don’t understand. We hate each other!”

Theo visibly softened, the tension leaving his body. “I could never hate you, Y/N.” He reached for your hand. Your first instinct was to pull away, but you let him trace soothing circles on your skin. “I may tease you. Prank you. Annoy you. But I’ve never hated you.”

Theo wiped the dried up tears from your cheeks. No fresh tears, which he took as a good sign. “I don’t even think you remember this, but I tried asking you to the Yule Ball in fourth year.”

The memory surfaced. You were reading by the Black Lake and Theo had asked if you had a date. You said no, to which he promptly asked if he could take you. You left in a huff, thinking that it was just another way to rile you up.

“I thought you were just trying to get a rise out of me. If I would’ve known…”

Theo paused. “How could you not know? How could you not see?”

The rage crashed against you like an errant wave. You didn’t know if you were angry at Theo or yourself, but you exploded either way, unable to keep your emotions under control.

“Because you never told me, you idiot!”

“I never told you, but I showed you.” He smiled crookedly. “I'm not good with words, obviously. Every time I open my mouth it’s like I say the perfect combination of words to piss you off. So I learned to tell you how I felt through my actions.”

“Haven’t you ever wondered why your favorite study spot in the library is always free? That’s because I threatened anyone who came near it. Or how you never seem to run out of quills despite the fact that you manage to break one every day from how hard you write? I always replaced them when you weren’t looking.” Your heart clenched at his words. “I even bribed first years to bring you hot chocolate when I knew you were pulling all nighters.”

You stood there, staring at him. This wasn’t the cocky, arrogant Theo that you knew. He was looking at you so earnestly that it physically hurt how endearing it all was.

“Why would you let me think that you were an inconsiderate jerk this whole time?”

Those hypnotizing eyes pierced right through you, filled with a sadness so heavy that you felt it weighing on your chest.

“Because at least you were thinking of me.”

You swayed gently. The water had long seeped into your bones, making you shiver as all of your clothes stuck to your skin like paper. You were convinced that your body had gone into shock. The range of emotions you were currently experiencing was turbulent to say the least. You stood in stunned silence, just taking it all in. Then the impact of his words hit you all at once.

Theo watched as your bottom lip trembled. Panic seized him as you began crying again, this time not bothering to hide it from him. “Fuck I’m sorry, Y/N. Please don’t cry.”

He didn’t know what to do. Should he comfort you? Should he keep his distance? Theo felt like he was doing a rather exceptional job of mucking things up.

“Why are you saying sorry?” You said between hiccups. “I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

Theo caressed your cheek. So gently. Like he half-expected you to recoil. That only set a fresh wave of tears to spill onto your cheeks.

“You have nothing to apologize for, love.”

“Of course I do!” you nearly wailed. “I’ve been horrible to you. I’ve thought the worst of you, but all this time you were doing all these sweet, considerate things and I never even noticed. You should’ve told me, Theo.”

“I—I didn’t think you’d ever see me that way,” Theo said softly. “It was better to have you hate me and still be part of my life than risking not having you in it at all.”

Because at least you were thinking of me.

It was the saddest thing that you’ve ever heard. For years, Theo settled for being your enemy because he’d rather have your hatred and loathing than indifference. He sustained himself on the bare minimum because he thought that was all he deserved.

“I’m sorry, Theo. I’m so so fucking sorry.”

Theo was absolutely distressed. “Fuck, look Y/N. Let me just finish up here and get my towel and when I’m dry and slightly less naked then we can talk, okay?”

You sniffled, wiping your tears away. There was no way you could wait. Not after everything Theo had just told you. Not after everything that he’s been telling you all these years. Theo had literally and figuratively laid himself bare before you. The least you could do was to even the playing field.

So you unlaced the gold and black tie around your neck. Unbuttoned your blouse and threw it somewhere behind you. Stepped out of your skirt and stared at Theo head on.

“Oh—Merlin’s beard, what in the hell are you doing, Y/N? Are you trying to send me into cardiac arrest?”

You shook your head, smiling slightly. Theo was determined to look everywhere but at your very exposed body. You were still in your bra and panties, but the black lace really didn’t leave much to the imagination. Especially when the water clung to every inch of your skin.

“You were vulnerable with me,” you said simply. “So I’m returning the favor.”

Theo felt like he was definitely headed for an early grave. He tried to think of something—anything—other than the girl he’s been head over heels for since third year standing naked in front of him.

“Theo,” you said softly. His name had never sounded half as good coming out of anyone else’s mouth. He wanted to bottle the sound. “Can I—can I hug you?”

He could’ve sworn that his heart had stopped beating. The air had all but left his lungs, deflating his entire body as though he’d fallen off his broom and plummeted through the sky at breakneck speed.

Theo didn’t recognize his own voice as he said, “Of course you can, Y/N.”

The words were barely out of his mouth before you dashed into his arms, nearly toppling him over from the force of it. You were a tiny little thing, but you were stronger than you looked. He smiled as you wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes as you hugged him. For a minute you and Theo just stood there under the trickling water, holding each other as though you were the only two people alive.

If this was all the affection you were willing to give him, Theo would’ve been content to hold onto you until you grew tired of him. His slender fingers traced down your spine, drawing soothing circles against your skin as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. You felt safe. Like nothing bad could ever happen as long as you were with him.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt like this. There was just this spark between you. Perhaps that was part of the reason why you had been so angry this morning.

It hadn’t just been because Theo sent Alec to the hospital wing, which you were now thankful for after hearing all the disgusting things he said about you. It was also because you thought that he had ruined your chance of feeling that rush with someone else. The same rush you got when the two of you were arguing. The same rush that was noticeably missing when you kissed Alec last night.

Things with Theo had always been electric. You attributed it to mutual loathing, but that wasn’t the full story. Sure he made your blood boil sometimes, but he also made you feel alive. You were terrified to admit it to yourself, which is probably why you said yes to Alec in the first place.

You sighed as Theo’s fingers tangled through your hair. He gently pulled your head back and looked at you in the most heartbreaking way.

“Y/N,” he said hoarsely. Theo’s gaze dipped to your mouth as his arm snaked around your waist. “I think I might die if I go one more second without kissing you. Will you please put me out of my misery, love?”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Gladly.”

Theo held his breath as you pulled him down to you, lips brushing shyly at first. Then you leaned in and kissed him. And he truly and honestly thought that he had died.

Your lips were soft against his, tasting of strawberries and mint toothpaste. He cupped the back of your head and tilted your chin to deepen the kiss. Before, Theo thought he could’ve sustained himself from a simple hug, but right now, he couldn’t even control himself as he gorged himself on your taste.

He chuckled when you tried and failed to get on your tiptoes to offset the height difference between you. Theo caressed your cheek and smiled against your mouth.

“Need some help, love?”

You nodded before pulling him back down again. This time, the tender kisses turned more heated as he locked your legs around his waist and pressed your back against the wall. You gasped as the cold tile made contact with your bare skin and Theo took the opportunity to slide his tongue against yours.

Merlin’s beard. Theo kissed with his entire body. There wasn’t an inch of you that wasn’t touching him and the skin to skin contact set your body on fire. You’d kissed other boys before, but they paled in comparison. You couldn’t get enough of Theo. You ran your fingers through his hair. Wrapped your legs more tightly around his waist. Trailed kisses along his jaw and neck and throat.

Then he fucking moaned.

It was a low, rumbling sound that sent tremors over your body and shook every fiber of your being like a devastating earthquake. You wanted to hear him make that sound over and over again.

“Y/N,” Theo said, his forehead dropping to yours. “Before I lose all sense of self, I want to—no—I need to tell you—”

“What is it, Theo?”

“If we do this, then you have to understand what it means to me,” Theo whispered. “I may be terrible with words, but it’s important for me that you hear me when I say this. I want you. Not just physically, but in every sense of the word. I wanted you in third year when you first told me off for being a dick to the first years and I want you now even though you came in here to defend a prick that definitely doesn’t deserve it.”

“What are you saying, Theo?”

“I want you to be mine, Y/N.”

You beamed. “Like, your girlfriend?”

“I don’t think girlfriend is a strong enough word to express how I feel for you, but it’s a start.” He moved the hair out of your face and cradled your cheek. “So yes, I suppose I do want you to be my girlfriend. I want to hold hands with you in the hallways. I want to look up at the stands during my games and see you cheering me on. I want to take you up to the Astronomy Tower and kiss you under the stars.”

“And you say you’re bad with words,” you teased. “I want to do all those things and more with you, Theodore Nott. Of course I’ll be your girlfriend.”

“Good, cause you’re mine.” Theo said matter-of-factly, those adorable dimples making an appearance on each cheek. “You were mine even before you knew it.”

He kissed you again, but this time it was soft and sweet and it filled your stomach with butterflies. Theo no longer felt the need to hoard as much of your affection as he could because you had just given him the ultimate reassurance that he would have plenty of you in the future.

You sighed contently against him, toying with the curls at the nape of his neck. He shifted, pressing kisses against your neck. Your fingers froze when you felt him stir underneath you.

“Theo,” you said slowly, biting back a smirk. “Is that what I think it is pressing against my leg?”

He groaned. “We’re half naked, in the shower, heavily making out, and you just agreed to be my girlfriend. Of course I’m hard.”

You stifled a laugh. “Theodore Nott, is emotional intimacy turning you on?”

“Everything about you turns me on.”

“That’s helpful to know,” you said with a little smirk. “Especially when we're dueling and I’m losing.”

“Merlin’s beard. My girlfriend’s downright evil.”

You grinned so hard that your cheeks ached. Theo peppered kisses all over your face before setting you down.

“I suppose we should head to dinner soon. My teammates watched you march in here in a fit of rage. They might think you’ve murdered me.”

“There’s only one problem,” you said as you finally turned off the shower. “I’m soaking wet.”

“I bet you are, darling.”

You rolled your eyes. “From the shower, you wanker.”

He grinned and kissed the top of your head. “It’s alright. I’ve got some extra clothes in my locker.”

Ten minutes later, the two of you walked out in the quidditch pitch hand in hand. Theo’s sweater completely enveloped you and he smiled a little at the sight. You received a few interesting stares as you made your way through the castle halls, but one look from Theo and they all quickly found something else to gawk at. Having a scary boyfriend was already paying off.

On the way to dinner, you ran into Enzo. The git had the biggest smile on his face when he saw that you and Theo were holding hands. “So you heard him out after all, huh?”

“Yeah, we sorted out our differences,” you said with a smile. “Coincidentally, I gained a boyfriend out of the whole ordeal. Happy now, Berkshire?”

“Absolutely chuffed,” Enzo said with a grin. “See you lovebirds at dinner.”

Theo rolled his eyes as his friend disappeared into the Great Hall. He turned, squeezing your fingers. “I should warn you. My friends can be a bit…much.”

“Don’t worry, I think we all got fairly acquainted in the locker rooms. If they tease us, well I’ve got a perfectly scary boyfriend to fend them off.”

He chuckled. “A scary boyfriend with an even more terrifying girlfriend.”

You winked, kissing his bruised knuckles. “This school won’t know what hit them.”

“Neither did Alec,” he said with a satisfied smirk. You gave him a reprimanding glare, but it was half-hearted. You didn’t actually feel sorry for the prick. “Sorry. Too soon?”

“You know you can’t punch everyone that says anything bad about me, right?”

“Of course not. I’m perfectly capable of kicking them too.”

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Shut up and kiss me, Theo.”

“Yes ma'am.”

taglist: @annaisabookworm @marina468

please let me know if you'd like to be added.

#double feature cause i have no self control baby #theodore nott #theo nott #theo nott x reader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott smut #theo nott x you #theo nott imagine #theodore nott x you #theo nott fluff #theo nott fic #theodore nott fic #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n

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bookishjules · 4 months ago

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just saw someone say max lightwood's death was unnecessary, so much so that they said it was one of the things the show got right, not killing him.. as if he wasn't created to die. as if his death didn't serve as a gut-wrenching revelation of just how fucked up sebastian is and what he's willing to do to get what he wants. as if his death didn't make everything with sebastian personal for the younger lightwoods in a way it wouldn't have otherwise been, because he may not be their brother but he is their brother's murderer. as if his death didn't leave izzy in enough raw pain and guilt that the walls around her heart flickered and weakened. as if his death didn't heighten alec's fear of losing someone enough to make him insecure and vulnerable to camille. as if his death didn't snowball into maryse and robert's divorce and the growth they both gained from that, including, might i add, an increased appreciation and respect for their children.

was max's death sad? yes. was it made more so by his innocence and youth? absolutely. but that was the point. max's death is a crucial turning point in the series and to dismiss it as unnecessary does the series and characters (and author) a huge disservice.

#not to mention dampening your reading experience #ugh #max lightwood #the shadowhunter chronicles #tsc #tmi #the mortal instruments #sebastian morgenstern #isabelle lightwood #alec lightwood #robert lightwood #maryse lightwood

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anakinsluvrr · 1 month ago

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| alec volturi x reader |

The cold stone walls of Volterra’s castle loomed around you, their eerie beauty a stark contrast to the man—no, the vampire—standing before you. Alec. His presence was both intoxicating and terrifying, the embodiment of power wrapped in an ethereal, youthful face.

“You should fear me,” he murmured, his voice smooth like silk but laced with something darker.

You held your ground, despite the way your heart pounded. “If I did, would you let me go?”

A small, knowing smile ghosted across his lips. “No.”

Alec had found you weeks ago, a human who had somehow intrigued him. Perhaps it was your stubborn nature, or maybe the way your eyes met his without flinching. Whatever it was, you knew you were walking a thin line between fascination and danger.

“You belong here,” he continued, stepping closer. The scent of ancient stone and something uniquely him surrounded you. “With me.”

Your breath caught as his cool fingers traced the side of your face, a stark contrast to your warmth. You knew what he was—what he was capable of. But in the silence of the grand hall, with only the flickering torchlight illuminating his sharp features, you couldn’t deny the strange pull between you.

“Do I?” you whispered, half a challenge, half an admission

Alec’s crimson eyes darkened, his hand sliding down to rest against your throat—not to harm, but to feel the pulse of life beneath your skin. “Yes,” he said simply. “And in time, you’ll understand why.”

There was no escaping the Volturi. No escaping him. And as his lips brushed against yours, cold yet searing, you realized—perhaps you didn’t want to.

#alec volturi x reader #alec volturi #volturi x reader #twilight #twilight x reader #volturi #volterra

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heartsongss · 2 months ago

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two. news travels

masterlist

a/n. this fic does have a male love interest btw, he's just taking a minute to pull up!! also sorry this is short it'll get longer as the plot builds I pinky promise

You’re eating lunch. You attend Gotham Prep, like Damian and Duke. Despite that, you run in entirely different circles. Damian sticks close to two people, while Duke has a larger group. You sit next to the three other demigods that call Gotham home.

Elyse Alarie, a daughter of Demeter, Alec James, a son of Hypnos, and Jamie Brooks, son of Dionysus. Mr. D and Chiron had pulled some strings (used the mist) to get you all in the same school, and it’s one of the greatest things to ever happen to you.

Jamie tears into his soggy chicken tenders, popping the pieces into his mouth as he analyzes you, “Why do you look like that?”

You narrow your (e/c) eyes at him, raising a single brow, “Like what?”

“Like you’re going to shit.”

Alec groans, taking off his glasses to rub his eyes, “Be so serious.”

You roll your eyes, taking a bite of a fry, “It’s happening next week.”

They all blink at you, Elyse saying, “What?”

You sigh, “It. Y’know, happens once a year?

Jamie gets it first, saying, “Oh. Oh! Already?”

You nod, slumping over, “We’re so cooked.”

Elyse nods, stealing a fry, “Especially considering they’re telling the Justice League.”

You freeze. Your fry flops pathetically from your hands into the ketchup, slowly drowning in the thick red condiment as you stare blankly at your friend. Elyse is blissfully unaware of how she just ruined your life, and is more concerned with the state of your french fry, pulling your tray over to her so she can fish it out with another fry.

“They’re telling the League?” You ask, eyes wide as your hands shift, clenching the table tightly.

Alec looks to you, “Yeah, did camp not tell you?”

Jamie elbows him, “Dude! Be sensitive, they don’t talk to camp much, anymore.”

Alec apologizes as you wave him off, slumping forward, “The bats are going to be involved, then…”

Elyse perks up, “Oh! I didn’t even think of that!”

“It’ll make it easier. Last month, Signal saw me stab an empousa and we made eye contact for like… three seconds before I put him to sleep,” Alec complains.

Jamie pats him on the back roughly, laughing at him.

Elyse rolls her eyes as she slides the tray back to you, and you stop it with your hand. You eat another fry as you listen to your friends talk, your brows furrowed nervously.

This is bad. The cull is bad enough, with the uncertainty of which demigods won’t sell you out. That entire weekend would be spent watching your back, hands tight on your sword until every other demigod left the city bounds. Now, though, you’re faced with the startling realization that your lives are about to collide.

Batman is a part of the Justice League. As one of the demigods participating in the cull in his damn city, he’ll have to know about you. He’ll see you. Maybe he won’t recognize you? You keep your head down at dinner, you don’t make eye contact with any of them. As long as you don’t draw their attention, you might get away with it.

You might stay out of their eyes… invisible, alone.

Invisibility is safety. If they don’t notice you, they can’t catch you. Can’t kill you. Can’t take you. Your eyes drift over to Damian, and then to Duke. You chew on your lip, a frown on your face as you watch your ‘brothers’. Just for a moment, you beg for them to look at you.

They don’t. They never fucking do.

(Damian’s eyes flicker to you, for just a moment. He knows who you are, vaguely, and for a second, he sees something on you. Something on your cheek. Duke watches you for longer, eyes squinted as he looks at you. You’re familiar. Like calls to like.)

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

Every time you see them that night is spent shooting them sly, quick looks. You scan their faces for hints of knowledge, anything pointing to them knowing what you are.

It scares you. It’s one thing to be a demigod, to have divinity for a Mother. You’re intrinsically different, built in a manner that defies the human anatomy. More machination than human, you are. Your mom certainly tried to prevent that, plying you with love and care, but she died.

She died, and you spent more company with her ghost, and the flighty goddess you call Mother than your father. You have Alfred, at least. He’s willing to bandage your cuts, pressing gentle kisses to the split skin and placating you with kind words.

You love Alfred, and you know he loves you. Despite all that love, he’s your father’s, before he’s yours. He, and the children he notices, will always take priority. Besides, you’re a mature kid. You can handle it, right? You can be alone, staring at your scarred face.

You sigh to yourself. You still haven’t seen anything in their eyes, so you assume they haven’t been told yet. Yet is important, because you know it’s coming. One day, you’ll get home from school and they’ll be there, wariness in their eyes. They’ll stare you down, and you will know.

Another place where you aren’t safe. Gotham will become the wolves’ den, sharp teeth doomed to dig into your flesh, tearing your wings until you are downed and doomed for death. Left for the monsters to nip at your body or to be dragged from Gotham into a cage; golden and glittering, but still a cage. Always a cage.

You consider it, for a moment. Your family won’t kill you. They’re strict in their rules, following their morals to the grave. They won’t kill you, but they won’t keep you. They barely see you as it is. It’ll be easy for them to make you leave, and then Gotham will take you. No matter what, you will end up abandoned.

You clench your fists. In the hallway, far from the main wing, you stand still. Closing your eyes, you hear that no one’s there, not as far as you can hear. You lean against the wall, sighing deeply as you stare at the floor. You’ll be okay.

You’re (Y/N) fucking (L/N). Sure, it’s legally Wayne, but that doesn’t matter. Your life didn’t end when Silena died, or when you turned eighteen. It’s not going to end when your family finds out what you are. You’ll push through, and you’ll be better.

You have to.

#demigod!reader #platonic yandere batfam #platonic yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfam #yandere dc #dividers by fairytopea #dovechild

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im-ovulating · 7 months ago

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Hi ! I don't know if this is how kinktober works, but could I have Felix Volturi x reader with size kink? Thank you

(A/n: Kinktober Day 10/15! I cut out some parts of the scene because I couldn't be bothered to write the entire thing; the gist of it and the part that's most important for the fic is there, so... fight me lmao)

(As stated in one of my Alec fics: Yall better not come at me with, "But vampires are cold! There's no warmth!!" Yes. Correct. To *humans*; to other vampires, they don't feel cold. If you don't believe me:

-as per Breaking Dawn, Pages 333 and 334.)

Word Count: 2,362

Summary- The aftermath of the Italy Vaycay™ in New Moon

Warnings: Size Kink, Manhandling, On the Floor, Vampire! Reader, Felix Ragdolling the Shit Out of Edward Anthony Masen Cullen, Felix and Reader spar and then fuck

Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Felix Volturi x Fem! Reader: Crush (me)

---------------------

You stand in the shadowy Volturi throne room, a sense of foreboding hanging in the air. The atmosphere is thick with tension, and the cold ornate surroundings only amplify the unease. Your gaze drifts to the other Volturi members, their eyes glinting with curiosity and anticipation at what is to become of the Cullens and their pet human.

Edward Cullen stands defiantly at the center of the room, his protective instincts palpable as he faces Aro and tries to talk their way out of this transgression. He’s here for the human, Bella, willing to risk everything. It's... odd; the way he's so ready to die for her - it's like a wolf defending the deer it caught from the rest of the pack. Absurd. You can sense the confrontation building and the tension is delicious.

Aro’s voice cuts through Edward's defense, smooth and chilling. He’s intrigued by Edward’s boldness, but you can see the amusement in his eyes. It’s a game for him, and Edward is caught in the crosshairs. As the tension builds and Edward makes a move towards Aro, the black-haired king gestures to Felix, a signal you know all too well.

Felix steps forward before Edward has even finished his first step, and you feel a thrill run through you. He’s imposing, his presence commanding the room. The way he moves - confident, almost aching for the chance to engage - draws your gaze. You can’t help but admire his strength as he sizes up Edward.

The moment feels suspended in time. It’s a clash of wills, and you can almost feel the electricity in the air. Felix’s expression shifts to one of excitement, a predatory glint in his eyes. He’s eager for the fight, and you find yourself captivated by the way he thrives on the challenge.

As the tension reaches its peak, you know a fight is imminent. The uncertainty hangs heavy in the air, but all you can focus on is Felix, ready to unleash his power. The thrill of the impending clash sends a flicker of excitement through you; it's been a while since a convicted put up a proper fight...

When Felix lunges at Edward, it’s like watching a predator spring into action. He moves with such effortless grace and strength, it’s mesmerizing.

Edward tries to evade him, but Felix is relentless. The way he easily dodges Edward’s attempts to counterattack is jaw-dropping. Each time Felix strikes, you can’t help but admire how he effortlessly overpowers Edward, showcasing a raw, commanding presence that’s impossible to ignore.

There’s something thrilling about watching Felix dominate this fight, his confidence radiating like a shield around him. The other Volturi members look on, but your focus is solely on him - his powerful movements, the way he exudes control, and the smirk that plays on his lips as he toys with Edward.

In this moment, you're captivated by Felix. He’s not just a fighter; he’s a force of nature, and you can’t help but feel drawn to his fierce energy as he easily subdues his opponent, if you can even call the Cullen that.

All too soon, the fight is over. Felix slams Edward at the kings' feet, shattering the marble steps, before yanking him up to his knees and tilting his head back. The sound of cracking stone echoes as fractures snake their way up Edward's face, splintering his otherwise perfect skin.

Just before Felix can finish him off, the human shouts out, pleading for the Cullen to be spared in exchange for herself. 'Foolish girl...' you think. Did she really think that after her boyfriend was killed, we'd let her go?

To your surprise, Aro holds up a hand, halting Felix as he glances toward the girl. "You would sacrifice your own life to save on of us?"

At the girl's small, 'Yes', Aro considers her words, the tension in the room thickening. “Your willingness to sacrifice your life for a vampire’s is… intriguing.” He leans back, eyes narrowing a bit in thought.

You glance at Felix, who still holds Edwaard firmly, his expression radiating disappointment. He's obviously not too thrilled about not being able to rip the Cullen's head off. It nearly makes you grin, Nearly.

Finally, Aro’s smile widens, and he makes a decision. “Very well. We shall let you go. It is not often we see such devotion.”

"What?!" Caius' outraged shout rings out the same time that Edward says, “You’re letting us go?”

Aro nods, ignoring his fellow king. “For now. But you must turn the human; that is our price. We will be watching... Do not test our patience. It is not without limit.”

Bella exhales in relief, and as soon as he's released, Edward flits to her side, his relief evident. Shortly after, they are dismissed, and Demetri leads them out.

After the fight you couldn't be bothered to pay much attention to the semantics. The Cullens are free to go, the human must be changed, we'll be watching, blah blah blah... No. What you're focused on is the tension set in Felix's shoulders. And the throbbing in your panties, but mostly the tension thing.

He's clearly disappointed. It's been a while since Felix has been able to fight like that - most of the vampiric law breakers the Volturi have been dealing with lately haven't put up much of a fight -, so to be able to brawl like that and be so close to killing Edward, only to be stopped last second, is most definitely irritating.

As soon as we are all dismissed, Felix leaves and heads in the direction of the room he uses to train the newborns of the lower guard. Without another thought, you quickly follow him.

The training room is dimly lit, the only light filtering in from the high windows, casting long shadows across the marble floor. It's quiet, save for the sound of your footsteps echoing off the walls. Felix doesn't acknowledge you.

"Want to spar?" You ask quietly. The glare he shoots you would make your heart skip a beat if it still beat in the first place. You've had a small (big) crush on the executioner since you joined the lower guard. By the time you proved yourself to be added into the permanent guard, the crush had grown into what you're dealing with now: the deep ache and longing to be the one he calls his, to feel his body pressed against your own - the warmth of him pressing you into the mattress as he fucks you senseless.

For a moment, he simply looks at you. You know the anger isn't directed at you, not necessarily so you simply ask again.

"It would help relieve some frustrations..."

The fight is instantaneous - in the blink of an eye, he's swinging at you. You duck, his fist just barely missing your jaw. You're both seasoned fighters, well-versed in the art of combat, and it shows. The air around you crackles with energy as you trade blows, each one stronger than the last. It's not easy to keep up with him, but one of the perks of being a former member of the lower guard is that Felix is the one that trained you. You know his tricks, but, of course, that means he also knows yours; he taught you them, after all.

Felix moves like a whirlwind, his strength and agility on full display. He's faster than you expected, his strikes landing true every time, leaving you to didge and duck out of the way. You have to stay on your toes to keep up with him, but you relish the challenge, pushing yourself harder than you ever thought possible. You keep on the defensive, letting him work the frustration out of his system.

He's not pulling his punches, but you also know that if he really wanted to, he could have torn you to pieces multiple times by now. There's a reason he is the undisputed choice for Volturi headsman.

Suddenly, you're knocked to the ground, your head cracking against the floor with a sickening echo. His knee is immediately on your chest and his hand around your throat in warning, keeping you down.

"You know what would really relieve my frustration?" He growls low, face inches from your own.

Your eyes are wide as you stare up at him, your crimson meeting his garnet. You don't bother struggling against his hold; even if you could get out, you're not sure if you would want to (you are sure- who are you kidding? You're damn-near in heaven right now). "...what?" You ask, feeling like you already know.

His lips curve into a twisted smirk, exposing fangs that are sharper than any blade. "You," he practically spits the word, making you shiver, "underneath me, feeling my weight on top of you, moaning as I fuck you." He leans down, his breath tickling your neck as he whispers in your ear. "Say you want it, Y/n."

Your throat feels dry as if you swallowed sand, but you can't deny the truth of his words. You do want it. You want him, and you've wanted him for so long. Taking a deep breath, you swallow hard and nod, your gaze never leaving his. "I want it..."

Felix's grip on your throat releases, and he shifts, so his knee is no longer digging into your sternum.

Without another word, he leans down, capturing your mouth in a deep, heated kiss. His tongue invades your mouth, demanding entry, and you eagerly comply, opening up to him. You moan into his mouth, feeling his weight settle more comfortably on top of you.

He pulls back and nips at your bottom lip, eliciting a small moan from you. Then, with sudden speed that catches you off guard, he grabs the hem of your shirt and yanks it over your head. You let out an indignant noise as he doesn't even bother unhooking your bra, electing to just tear it off of you. "You'll live," he says, pulling his own shirt off and looping an arm around your waist so your naked chest is pressed against his as he captures your lips once more.

Felix trails his fingers lightly down your abdomen, skimming over the smooth skin and making you arch your back to feel more of his touch. "You're so beautiful," he breathes, his voice rough with desire. Then, he moves to unfasten his pants, freeing his hard length from the confines of his jeans.

You shove your own down, pulling your panties off in the same motion. You've waited so long for this chance and you're not going to risk taking your time and having something interrupt...

You part your legs wider as he moves between your thighs, his hard cock pressing against your already wet folds. He groans, his lips trailing kisses down your neck and chest, stopping to suck on your nipple, causing you to gasp out in pleasure.

With one powerful thrust, he's inside you, filling you completely. You cry out, your nails digging into his shoulders as he begins to move, his thrusts rough and demanding, taking what he wants.

You love it. You love the way it makes you feel, like you belong to him. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer as he thrusts deeper into you. He growls, the sound vibrating through your core, sending shivers down your spine.

As Felix slams into you again and again. The sensation is overwhelming, exquisite roughness mixed with even more intense pleasure. You're lost in the moment, lost in him. You grip him tighter, meeting his thrusts with pure need.

Your cries echo off the walls as he continues to fuck you, his hips slapping against yours in a rhythm that's both primal and erotic. You can feel the tension building between you, the urgency growing with each passing second. Your shoulders dig into the marble beneath you and you can feel each thrust causing more and more hairline fractures through the stone as he all but pummels you into it.

As the pleasure builds, you can feel a coil of pressure starting deep within you, gradually intensifying with every touch. Every caress sends shivers down your spine. The tension escalates and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge. The sensations cluster in your core, pulsating and throbbing, as if your entire being is focused on this single point of pleasure. You're acutely aware that anyone could walk in, but then, the realization that everyone in the castle can hear you anyway and is most likely steering clear of this room -hall, really- pushes that thought away.

You're so close that you don't think you'd even care if someone walked in. You're all adults that know what sex is; big deal. You've finally gotten your wish of Felix fucking you, pinning you down and taking everything that you have to offer, so as far as you're concerned, everyone else can fuck off.

You whimper as Felix picks up the pace, his thrusts harder and faster than ever before and you can feel the sharp points of the cracked stone digging into your skin, crumbling to dusk against the impenetrable flesh. It feels like he's reaching impossible depths within you, rearranging you to be his perfect sheath. You can feel the coil tightening in your belly, growing more and more taut with every passing second.

Your body tingles with anticipation, knowing that this is it, your cunt clenching down on him as you inch closer and closer to release. You bite your lip, trying to hold back your moan as the pressure within you reaches its peak. Felix groans, tilting his head back in ecstasy as he feels you tighten around him.

With one final thrust, he releases himself into you, filling you completely. Your body quakes as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you.

As the aftershocks of your orgasms begin to subside, Felix slowly pulls out of you, his chest heaving with unnecessary breaths.

"Fuck, I needed that..." he groans, running a hand through his dark hair. You can only nod.

So did you.

#felix volturi x reader #felix volturi smut #felix volturi x reader smut #felix volturi #kinktober 2024

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alexanderlightweight · 11 days ago

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I know I prompted last week so feel free to ignore this one but I thought it might be a little amusing. I'm moving soon (new job woo!) and yesterday my work laptop bluescreened, this morning my kitchen sink stopped working, now my bedroom lamp is flickering. Given that we have some highly magical buildings in the series how do they (loft or institute) react to Magnus/Alec moving out? Perhaps Lorenzo's deal doesn't work so well if the Loft itself gets a say. I loved all the recent hair lore prompts!

this was a bit ago but jsyk I never mind people prompting in a row, I just have limited time/energy but my plans are always to get to everything answered eventually!

i hope that did not continue? but also I agree, everytime you move the place you leave and the place you go to, everything that can go wrong will happily do so!!! I hope you new job is going well and treating you good?

Magnus - did not lose his magic in this scenario because i hate that plotline. They made a deal, Magnus is bunking with Alec because he wants to, not because he has to. He changes his mind after one night and opens up quite a few properties because he definitely has more than a single loft in his territory.

I hope you enjoy <3

lumine

—-

Lorenzo doesn’t need Magnus Bane’s loft and it’s not even for the property value, despite how nice it is, it hardly compares to any of his own, old and kept in pristine condition estates.

It’s because for several centuries, Lorenzo has been living in the shadow of Magnus’ Bane reputation and the idea of cutting him down, even when he’s already low, is too delightful to pass up.

How can Lorenzo remain in the shadow of a man now at his feet?

It’s that thought, that power that adds a little swagger to his step and a swirl to his wrist as he makes himself a delicious drink.

Except a moment after he takes a sip, he frowns.

Something is wrong with the drink and it isn’t until he uses both magic and his nose, that he realizes somehow his bottles of expensive alcohol have been changed.

His old fashioned somehow ended up with everclear rather than the bourbon or rye whiskey that he uses.

It’s foul and he dumps it down the drain and carefully uses his own hands rather than magic.

It tastes better, but the spoon he used to stir the first is missing and no matter how hard he looks, or even when he uses magic, it doesn’t turn up.

Since Lorenzo has too much on his plate with his new duties, he doesn’t bother to waste anymore time or magic.

The drink is subpar without his spoon but the view is still stunning. At least until that night when — after a profoundly intimate dinner party reviewing art — Lorenzo wakes up to the entire loft not only shaking.

But moving.

Mere moments after he wakes, Lorenzo is barely managing to keep the loft intact, his magic unprepared and wildly incapable of keeping up with the sudden onslaught.

When he’s done, he chances a glance out the window only to find himself in an entirely new area.

One far from where he went to sleep and one he doesn’t recognize.

He dials Bane without hesitation, his phone never far from him.

“Alec Lightwood.”

Lorenzo pauses because... he was expecting Magnus Bane.

Not Magnus’ Bane’s infuriating shadowhunter.

“I need to speak to the former High Warlock.” Lorenzo can’t help the little extra dig, because Magnus Bane is no longer so high and mighty.

“Well, he’s sleeping. So that will have to wait.”

“You could just wake him up.” Lorenzo reminds him, because talking to Alec Lightwood increasingly becomes like talking to a brick wall the longer Lorenzo knows him. Perhaps he is in need of prompting, which Lorenzo is willing to offer.

“I could, but I’m not going to. Magnus needs his sleep.”

Lorenzo takes a long breath and rethinks his strategy, “can you at least ask him, the moment he wakes. Why has the loft he traded me for my help moved?”

“Oh, did you catch the street you’re on now? I can probably give you the address if you did. If your magick wasn’t strong enough to tether it to the new building then it probably reverted. Magnus explained to me about magical ricochet but, well you probably know what I’m talking about. Having magick and all that.”

Lorenzo admits he did not catch the street and Lightwood hangs up like he’s done anything but gives Lorenzo more of a crisis than he already has going on.

Lorenzo doesn’t know how but he somehow feels worse after the call.

“Tethered?”

Lorenzo really doesn’t like where it seems like this is going, but he needs answers and he finds himself calling in a few favors.

Because he still doesn’t know where he is but he is most definitely sure that it’s not because his magic is lacking in any way.

AN:

uh so, the loft is quite magical and it's not magnus' fault that Lorenzo doesn't have enough magic to maintain the property. like. that's on Lorenzo, wanting to take on a property he can't manage or afford the *magical* upkeep of.

magnus is planning to wait this out until Lorenzo either begs him to take the loft back, or eventually whoever Lorenzo manages to hoist it onto, also finds out that Magnus is the original owner/architect and tries to return it.

alec is currently moonlighting as Magnus' secretary since he doesn't have his normal communication wards up at the institute.

Magnus is not sleeping btw, he simply handed the phone to Alec because he didn't want to deal with Lorenzo and his boy is ride or die.

not that Magnus will let his alexander die, but still.

#lumine writes #writing wednesday #writing wednesdays #magnus bane #malec #alec lightwood #shadowhunters #lorenzo rey

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redheadspark · 1 year ago

Text

This Little Life

Summary - You are settling into your new life as a new mother to Alec, and Azriel helps you along the way

Warnings - some angst but mostly fluff

“Ah, let’s take a look at these wings, shall we?”

You and Azriel watched Madja examine your 2-month-old son, who was wiggling in her hold as she chuckled and looked at the small pair of bat wings against his backside. He was too occupied with the small toy he was gumming in his mouth to feel Madja run her fingers along the delicate wings for a reflex test. Although you knew he was healthy, you were still on edge with him as Azriel's eyes were trained on his son at every moment.

The first two months with Alec in your life were filled with bliss and milestones. You never knew you could be this happy, not until Alec came into your life and turned it upside down in the best way. He was an easy babe to handle, from nursing to sleeping Alec never once gave you trouble. He adored being held by either you or Azriel, finding peace in the arms of his parents when he was fussy or when he couldn’t sleep. Especially with his father, who would always rock him to sleep when he could. Alec was the blessing you both needed, and you both cherished every single moment you had with him.

But you still had moments of not doing a good enough job, which perhaps was a normal feeling for new mothers to endure. No matter that Alec was an easy baby to care for, that he lit up your day with his smile or his bright eyes. Those small flickers of doubt crept in when you eat expected it, nestled in the back of your mind to take over for a few solid moments. Wondering if he was eating or sleeping enough, pondering if you were holding him to touch or not enough.

Azriel, sensing it and feeling it through the bond, would pull you out of the darkness with a pull of his hands and a hush of his voice. He saw it in your eyes as you were zoned out for a long moment, reassuring you with his words and in his gentle touches. You loved him for that, knowing that your mate was devoted to you and your well-being. Especially since It involved you being the best mother to his son.

“Those doubts in your mind are lies, my love,” he hummed against your forehead as you cried into his chest one night, your son sleeping in his bassinet not too far away and you were telling Azriel all that was festering in your mind. He knew you never had to say it or tell him, he felt it through the bond and how you were feeling lower than low. Yet Azriel simply held you, his embrace was both possessive and gentle while you were crying and molding yourself against him.

“You are an exceptional mother, our son is lucky to have you as his mom, and I am lucky to have you as my mate and share our son with you. Alec knows you would move the moon for him, as do I,” he said into your skin like a seal as you were clinging onto him, “Lean on me when it’s heavy and I will carry you, tell me when those lies come back again and I will snuff them out with my shadows. I will always, always, keep you on your feet and bring you happiness and love, always,”

Since then, Azriel always kept an extra eye on you and made sure you felt extra loved and adored. Not that he didn’t do that before, but he was always attentive to you and made you feel like the luckiest being in all of Night Court and beyond. But now it magnified, fresh flowers in a vase by your bedside, making you dinners that were both hearty and delicious, taking you on walks when you two had downtime. When it came to Alec, Azriel did not mind taking the helm in some of the busy work. Changing Alec, rocking him to sleep when he was fussy, even helping bathe Alec and his wings which made his day and brought some joy to the pair of you.

But no matter the sleepless nights, the constant fatigue, and never-ending worries, Alec was the light of your life. You loved hearing his laugh, anything and everything amused Alec and made him giggle or shriek. He also was ever curious about everything around him, his eyes were a rare blue scanning everything in his sight and you knew he got that from his father. He even almost had the same scowl as his father, which was amusing, to say the least.

Alec was equally loved by the Inner Circle, especially by Nesta and Cassian. You knew they were thinking about having children of their own, though they were willing to wait a bit more because of Nesta’s hesitance on Motherhood. But you knew Cassian would wait for however long it took since he loved his mate so deeply. Yet when they would hold Alec, seeing his face light up as he would babble at Nesta or attempt to grab Cassian’s hair, it was evident in their smiles and eyes.

They were ready for their own little family.

“His wings are coming along,” Madja explained as her trained eyes were looking along each wing, touching the delicate bones that were under the membrane skin and Alec squirming in her hold, “When he gets bigger you should start stretching his wings out to be strong enough to fly.”

“Fly?” You asked tentatively, Azriel squeezing your shoulder in reassurance. You couldn’t wrap your head around the notion of your son flying, and although he was still a newborn, the day he would fly was not too far away. Flying was an Illryian right of passage so to speak, an ancient and important passage that every Illyrian being would have to partake in for the first time in one’s life. It was mostly meant for the male though, female Illryians had their wings clipped instantly when they were of age. You, of course, were able to dodge that burden thanks to Rhysand and his mother. The horror stories you heard about females and their wings being stripped from them in such a brutal way, it made you paranoid for yourself when you grew up.

Luckily for you, Azriel swore to you that he would never let anyone strip your wings, seeing you as his equal in every way.

“I wouldn’t worry now,” Madja hummed as you, then grinning as she propped Alec on her hip as he was still gnawing at the small toy in his mouth with ease. She walked him over to you, Alec gaining at the sight of you and he reached out with grabby hands and a shriek on his lips, “He’s in good health and one of the happiest babes I’ve ever worked with. You should be proud,”

You nuzzled your son in his arms, breathing in his baby scent with ease as Azriel pressed a kiss into Alec’s raven hair. You smiled at Madja as she was packing up her bag, “Thank you, Madja.”

“Pleasure is mine, and I enjoy your little one compared to the other Illryain babes I’ve handled in the past. He’s an easy one, must have gotten it from his father,” Madja joked, you snorted from her comment of Azriel while he felt a bit flushed.

Madja walked out of the house, leaving the three of you together in your cramped but cozy living room. Although your little cottage was well put away from the hustle and bustle of downtown Velaris, the soft sounds of the city being lively floated into your open front door to hover over the soft silence of the meadow.

Your little house was the perfect mixture of yourself and Azriel that you added over the centuries. It used to belong to a farmer, who went to Rhysand for assistance some time ago in need of finding new land for his crops. He mentioned to Rhysand that he was selling the home, to which Rhysand mentioned it to Azriel since Rhysand knew Azriel was looking for a home for you two to settle in as new Mates.

So Azriel bought the home and gifted you as a Mating gift.

“Look at you being a healthy little one,” Azriel cooed at Alec, who was smiling widely with a toothless grin. Azriel chuckled at the sight, “I think we should celebrate,”

“What do you have in mind?” You asked him, seeing him look out the small windows for a brief moment. Your eyes went in the same direction, seeing the large view of the mountain range that was tucked away behind Velaris.

“How about we go to the mountains?” He suggested to you, you keeping your eyes on the massive mountain peaks as he spoke again, “It’s perfect weather for some time in the mountain, especially near the lake by Rhysand’s family cabin.”

You grinned at the thought of being able to get out of the city for a few hours. The mountains were a good safe haven for the pair of you, plenty of weekends together when either one of you were too stressed or too wound tight. The crisp air in the morning, the calming sounds of the riverbanks and lake, even the distinct scent of the high pines and the fresh dirt. You knew it brought Azriel some peace compared to being in the craziness of Velaris, and you loved it just the same. Now that you had Alec, it would be the perfect time to take your son to the mountains and to have that family time with both your mate and son.

“I think that’s perfect,” You hummed, seeing Azriel grin widely at you since you were willing to take a few hours away with himself and Alec.

“I’ll let Rhysand know that we’ll use his second cabin for the day, and maybe for the night too,” Azriel said to you as you raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’re not going to ask?” You questioned him, though he simply smirked at you as he shrugged.

“If I mention Alec, he won’t mind,” he smoothly answered. You had to give it to him, he knew that Rhysand was a sucker for your son.

“You wanna feel the water? It’s so nice,” You said to Alec as he was eyeing the lake in front of him with wide eyes. He was perched in your lap, the pair of you at the end of the small pier with your legs already in the water. Alec huffed, kicking his legs in your lap as you reached down to gather some water in your hand to have Alec splat his fingers in. You had to laugh, seeing Alec’s bright blue eyes go big from the touch of cool water.

“Should have known you would be a water babe,” You joked as you scooped some more water, Alec once again splashing the water in your palm and laughing as he did. You never minded that you were getting water droplets on your shorts, or even in your hair that was in two Dutch braids down your back, all you were thinking about was how happy Alec was.

True to Azriel’s assumption, Rhysand let you use his cabin. This was not his first cabin, which was in the middle of the Illyrian mountains. This newer cabin with modern finishes was a gift from Feyre to Rhysand, an anniversary present that was a bit bigger to hold more than two beings in the home. It had amazing view of the surrounding mountains and a massive lake in the front of the cabin that was enchanted to only be seen by those staying at the cabin. Magic was laced in the cabin itself, almost like the magic of the townhouse transferred into the cabin itself.

Rhysand was more than willing when Azriel contacted him and told him about wanting to have time with you and Alec away from Velaris. Rhysand understood, he too knew what it was like to want more family time when Nyx was younger and his family was freshly formed. You were grateful that Rhsyand and Feyre knew what it was like to have the newborn, both the blessings and hardships that came with it. Feyre was beyond helpful when you were feeling uneasy and insecure about being a mother, letting you know that it was beyond normal to feel such a way and that you were doing an amazing job.

You were grateful to have the High Lord and High Lady in your corner.

The cabin was in great shape when you two arrived, bringing along some snacks to munch on throughout the day and perhaps staying for the night. Opening the large windows to let the mountain breeze come in, the lake was rippling and inviting. So you decided to take Alec onto the little pier while Azriel went to unpack your bags.

“What are you two up to?” You heard behind you, a pair of feet walking up the pair in your direction as you looked over your shoulder. Azriel, wearing his own pair of shorts and a midnight blue tank top was grinning at the sight.

“Showing your son the lake, and I think he’s a fan,” You explained, Azriel chuckled as he sat down next to you, reaching over to Alec who was attempting to reach down to the water and wiggle out of your hold, “Come here, bub. No need to get too wet,”

Alec was happily perched in his father’s lap, looking at the rippling water below with the reflection dancing along his face. You leaned back on your hands, soaking in the warmth of the sun along your skin and the cool breeze soaring in. It was nice to not hear about the constantly busy city, and although you loved Velaris and all the blessings it gave you over the years, being out in nature was another element that was therapeutic for you.

“What did Rhysand say?” You asked Azriel as you had your eyes closed, soaking in the sun on your skin.

“He told us to stay for however long we wanted, or for however long Alec wanted,” He informed you, to which you cracked a grin, “I told you Rhysand would do anything for him,”

“Our son has the High Lord of Night Court wrapped around his finger,” You teased, “I’m not surprised when it comes to my Cousin.”

The soft sound of splashing was heard, making you open your eyes to look over at the source of the sound. Azriel’s feet were kicking in the water, though Alec was nestled in his arms and slowly fell asleep from the small rocking from Azriel. His eyes were getting droopy, his hands opening and closing absentmindedly, yet he looked comfortable in his father’s arms. It instantly warmed your heart, tilting your head as Azriel watched the lake.

“How is it that he can fall asleep in your arms?” You asked him, Azriel looking down at Alec, seeing how his eyes were lazily blinking and looking up at the sky while trying to stay awake.

“I don’t know,” He answered with a small shrug, not wishing to jostle Alec who was losing the will to stay awake as his eyes were now drifting closed faintly, “He was always this way since he was born. Though I don’t mind,”

Leaning your arm against his own, you perched your head on his shoulder and watched your son who was now fast asleep, seeing his hair flowing a bit in the wind while his head was perched right on Azriel’s chest. Azriel’s fingers lightly rubbed Alec’s arms, a soothing rhythm back and forth along his son’s soft skin.

“How are you, my love?” Azriel asked you gently, his voice so soft and yet hinted with some concern as you grinned, pressing a kiss against his shoulder.

“I’m well,” You answered, “Better these days thanks to you.”

“You look well,” He hummed, you blushing as he kept his hazel eyes on you, “And I can feel it in our bond too. I feel bad that I’ve been away more than I should be when I should be here with you and Alec—“

“No no,” You gently interrupted, looking at Azriel with love in your eyes as you wrapped your arm around his lower waist, your other hand moving his inky black hair from his eyes, “You are taking care of us and doing an amazing job at being his father,”

Azriel grinned, looking back at your sleeping son who curled into Azriel’s hold and was softly snoring. Azriel was also a person of doubt from time to time, wondering if he was providing enough for his little family or not enough. He loved you and Alec, far more than he loved himself, and he would be devastated if his world was rocked. He hated leaving for missions, not that he loved doing missions before. But now he would rather stay at home with you and Alec, even doing pain-staking paperwork if it meant he was there with you both.

“I don’t want any other life, Az.” You reassured him, seeing him look back at you with new warmth in his eyes, “This life is what I want and one I’ll ever need. I’ll take the good and the bad days because I know you’ll be with me every step of the way,”

No matter how many centuries came and went being together, you always had an intense love for Azriel like you did when you two first fell for each other. From being young teenagers with baggage and burden, to now new parents with a bright future ahead, you would take Azriel and Alec over anything else in this world.

Azriel kissed you under the sun, Alec nestled between you two as you framed his face and kissed him back just as sweetly.

The End

Tagged - @valeridarkness @impossibelle @acourtofbatboydreams

#azriel #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #acosf #acomaf #acowar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x oc #daddyazrielandalec #writing #fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel acotar #acotar fanfic #daddyazriel

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dumbladores · 3 months ago

Text

Alec Lightwood Imagine

Alec Lightwood x fem!reader Prompt: You reeeealy like his leather pants and well, who can blame you Rating: Mature

As soon as the door clicks shut behind you, the air shifts. The tension that has been simmering between you and Alec all night sharpens, heavy and inevitable. He stands just inside the doorway, his broad shoulders rising and falling with each measured breath. His dark eyes flicker over you, lingering, hungry.

The soft glow of the institute’s lights casts deep shadows across his face, accentuating every sharp angle of his jaw, the strong line of his throat, the tension in his shoulders. But it’s his body that has you transfixed—the way his black leather gear clings to him, how every single muscle is outlined beneath it, the way his belt sits low on his hips, like it was made to drive you insane.

You swallow, your throat suddenly dry, as your eyes drift lower. His leather pants, snug and unforgiving, highlight the flex of his thighs, the solid strength of him. And you can see it—the way he’s already hard beneath the material, the way the friction must be driving him crazy.

Alec shifts slightly, rolling his shoulders like he’s trying to ease some invisible tension, but the movement only makes the leather creak, and your stomach tightens.

His gaze snaps to yours, sharp and knowing. “You keep looking at me like that,” he murmurs, his voice lower now, rougher. “I won’t be able to hold back.”

A slow, wicked smile tugs at your lips. “Maybe I don’t want you to.”

That’s all it takes.

Alec closes the distance between you in an instant, his hands gripping your waist as he backs you against the wall. His body presses into yours, solid and warm, and you gasp at the sensation—the hard press of his belt, the unmistakable friction of leather against your thighs.

He groans, low and rough, his breath hot against your ear. “You feel that?” he murmurs, rocking against you slightly, just enough for the friction to spark through both of you.

A whimper escapes your lips, your fingers flying to his shoulders, gripping him hard. “Alec—”

He exhales sharply, his hands tightening on your hips. “It’s been driving me insane all night,” he admits, his voice unsteady. He rocks against you again, just enough to make you shudder. “How tight these damn pants are. How fucking hard I’ve been since you walked into that club looking like that.”

His confession sends a fresh wave of heat through you, and you press up against him, matching his movement, testing. The effect is immediate—Alec lets out a sharp breath, his head dropping against your shoulder, his body trembling slightly.

“Fuck,” he groans, his voice barely more than a breath.

You smirk, sliding your hands down his chest, over the smooth, fitted fabric of his gear, before dipping lower, your fingers tracing the edge of his belt. “Bet this isn’t very comfortable,” you murmur, teasing.

Alec lets out a soft, desperate sound, his hips pressing into you involuntarily. “It’s torture,” he admits, his voice wrecked. “And you’re making it worse.”

“Am I?” You drag your fingers just under the leather of his waistband, just enough to tease, to make him twitch beneath your touch.

Alec shudders, his breath stuttering as he presses harder against you. The friction is exquisite—the leather against your bare skin, the way he moves so effortlessly, how tightly wound he already is.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he breathes, his voice shaking. “I’ve wanted this—wanted you—” He cuts himself off with a sharp inhale as you roll your hips against him, slow and deliberate.

The whimper that slips from his lips is helpless, shattered—a sound that sends heat licking through your veins and leaves you breathless. His hands fly to your thighs, gripping hard, holding you in place as he grinds against you, properly this time.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathes, his head tilting back slightly, his eyes dark with pure need.

The sight of him—flushed, trembling, barely holding on—sends a rush of heat through you, and you realize you don’t want to tease him anymore. You want him. All of him. Now.

Reaching for his shirt, you tug it off him in one swift movement. Alec discards it in a corner of the room, and then he’s on you again, kissing you deep, desperate, his hands shaking as he grips the hem of your shirt, tugging it over your head.

You’re past the point of teasing. Past the point of restraint.

Tonight, you’re giving in.

Alec is all over you now, his hands gripping your hips, his breath coming fast and uneven against your lips. The heat between you is unbearable, thick and electric, crackling through every inch of your body. His kiss is desperate, bruising, like he’s trying to claim every single breath you take, and you let him. You want him to.

Then, without warning, his hands shift, gripping the backs of your thighs, and he heaves you up effortlessly. A surprised gasp escapes you as he lifts you off the ground, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist.

“Fuck—Alec,” you gasp, clinging to him.

He groans at the sound of his name, carrying you easily to the bed before dropping you onto the mattress, the weight of his body following, pinning you down. His hands press into the sheets beside your head, his hair falling into his dark, blown-out eyes as he looks at you—really looks at you—like he’s finally letting himself take in what’s happening.

And then, suddenly, he hesitates.

Not because he wants to stop—no, you can feel how much he wants this, feel it in the way he’s rock hard against you, still trapped inside those sinfully tight leather pants. But there’s something else. Something he’s just realized.

His lips quirk up slightly, amusement flickering through the haze of desire in his gaze. “Hm,” he murmurs, his voice dark, wrecked. “You liking that?”

You blink up at him, dazed. “W-what?”

Alec exhales sharply through his nose, shaking his head like he can’t believe what he’s just discovered. He shifts his hips slightly—just enough for the firm leather to press against the slick heat between your thighs.

A whimper escapes you. Loudly.

His smirk deepens, something dangerous flashing in his eyes. “Didn’t realize you like it so much,” he murmurs, his fingers trailing lower, lower until he’s slipping a hand between your thighs.

And then—he finds out exactly how much you like it.

He groans, deep and low, his fingers sliding against your soaked underwear, pressing against the fabric like he can’t quite believe what he’s feeling. “Jesus, Y/N,” he breathes, his voice almost trembling. “You’re fucking drenched.”

You moan, your thighs twitching beneath his touch, your hands flying to his shoulders. “Alec—”

He presses his fingers against you again, a slow, deliberate stroke, and you arch into his touch, gasping. “This is from me,” he mutters, his tone almost possessive. “From those damn leather pants rubbing against you. From just—” He groans softly, pressing his forehead to yours. “God, you’re killing me.”

Your breath stutters, your fingers digging into his back. “Take them off.”

Alec smirks, shaking his head. “Not yet.”

And then—he’s stripping you down instead.

His fingers hook into your jeans, dragging them down your legs agonizingly slow, like he wants to savour every second, every inch of skin he exposes. His breath stutters as he peels them away, leaving you in nothing but your underwear, bare and completely exposed beneath him.

Alec sits back slightly, his gaze raking over you, drinking you in like he’s starving. “Fuck,” he mutters, his voice hoarse. “Look at you.”

You reach for him, tugging him back down, and he groans against your mouth as your bodies collide—his leather-covered thighs slotting perfectly between yours, his hips pressing down, grinding against you.

The friction is unbearable. The leather is smooth and hot against your bare skin, so different from anything you’ve ever felt before, and Alec feels it too.

He grinds down again, his hips rolling in slow, controlled movements, and his breath catches on a sharp inhale.

“F-fuck—” His voice is wrecked, shaking with restraint, and his head drops against your shoulder as he ruts against you.

You moan at the pressure, your nails digging into his back, and Alec shudders, his entire body trembling as he rocks against you again and again.

“You’re—” He inhales sharply, his fingers digging into your hips. “Jesus, I can’t—”

His movements get rougher, less controlled, his hips rolling with more urgency, more desperation. The leather creaks with every movement, the friction so intense it’s driving both of you to the edge.

“Alec,” you whimper, tilting your head back.

That’s all it takes.

He lets out a sharp, devastating moan, his entire body tensing above you, and then—he’s completely falling apart.

His breath catches, his jaw clenches, and then he groans—low and wrecked—as he helplessly spills into his pants. His hips jerk one last time against you before he goes still.

His breath is hot against your neck, his body trembling, his hands gripping you so tightly like he’s afraid to let go.

For a moment, neither of you move.

Then, after a long, shaky breath, Alec lets out a soft, breathless laugh, burying his face in your neck.

“Oh my God,” he mutters, voice still thick with pleasure, his entire body still shuddering with aftershocks.

You laugh softly, running your fingers through his hair. “That good?”

Alec groans against your skin, shaking his head. “You have no idea.”

Then, after a beat, he lifts his head, his dark eyes meeting yours, a slow smirk creeping onto his lips.

“But don’t think for a second,” he murmurs, trailing his fingers down your side, “that we’re anywhere near done.”

#Alec Lightwood #alec lightwood x oc #alec lightwood leather #alec lightwood imagine #alec lightwood fanfic #alec lightwood x fem!reader #alec lightwood x reader

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fieldofdaisiies · 5 months ago

Text

Sometimes you need to drift apart from someone to truly understand how much you belong together.

Almost exactly a year after their painful breakup, Azriel and Eris unexpectedly meet again and find themselves trapped together in a snowstorm. With no choice but to spend time together in a small space, the long hours lead to conversations of their past, memories of their adventures togethers, unresolved feelings and heartbreak…

This is my @acotargiftexchange gift for the lovely and absolutely wonderful @daycourtofficial It was a delight being your secret santa💛 I hope you have a very peaceful and calm Christmas filled with so much joy! Sending you love!🎄

Story Playlist

Let Her Go - Passenger

Wish You the Best - Lewis Capaldi

Someone You Loved - Lewis Capaldi

Last Christmas - Wham!

O Holy Night - Mariah Carey

Flowers - Miley Cyrus

Let Me Down Slowly - Alec Benjamin

It Gets Better - Martin Luke Brown

read the whole story below the cut // or on ao3

Dimmed by the snowstorm that has been raging on for days, New York is blanketed in an endless, thick sheet of white. It crunches beneath his polished boots as Eris hurries down the streets, the cool air burning down his throat and landing harshly in his lungs as he tries to catch a cab within all the holiday chaos — many people are leaving, others are returning. The city has turned into an even more intense bustling hub of people and traffic, full of flashing lights and noises.

Eris blows out a long breath, watching the gleam of the street lanterns flicker behind the snow swirling in the air. Traffic is crawling through the mud-coloured slush on the streets and he hopes to finally catch sight of a cab. Otherwise he will be late (he is already late, but not yet too late). He fears he will miss his plane and only over his dead body will he stay alone in New York for Christmas. He has been alone enough in the last year, but certainly not on Christmas. Not on a holiday that is all about family and being together with your loved ones.

Family. His suitcase is filled to the brim with presents for his family. His mother, his youngest brother, his sister-in-law and his beloved niece, Dalia. If his other brothers will show up, is still in the stars – they never announce their visit beforehand.

The harsh, cold wind and snow bite through the layers of his clothes, slowly creeping under his skin. He shivers and clenches his jaw. He‘ll be damned if he catches a cold now…

As he waits, lifting his hand every now and then to signal a cab to stop which still hasn’t happened, Eris watches snow collect on the bare branches of trees and pile on window sills nearby. His breath hangs in the air, each exhale a small cloud in the freezing cold that surrounds him. He can’t wait to leave the city and get back home. To be inside the warm and cosy living room of his mother’s and his step-dad’s house, the smell of the delicious dishes his sister-in-law has cooked wafting through the air.

He likes going home. He likes being home. For a few days, a few weeks. He always quickly realises he misses New York. New York is his new home. The place he loves to live at. However, there’s a loneliness here he can’t shake—there is too much anonymity, too much loneliness in this big city. And Eris hates it. He craves connection, friendships, a sense of belonging. He wants someone—

A sharp honk jolts him from his thoughts, startles him so much his eyes widen in shock and the breath gets caught in his throat.

"Been waiting for me, buddy?"

At last—a taxi! Eris thinks and exhales a relieved breath. He nods in answer, a hint too excitedly. And as he slides into the back seat, pulling his suitcase and bag in with him, he says, "To the airport, please."

The cab driver glances at him in the rearview mirror, cheerful and unfazed. "Alrighty," he replies brightly, his voice nearly drowned out by Last Christmas blaring from the radio. Pushing his foot down on the gas pedal, he sets off immediately. The cab ploughs through the thickening slush, its tires skidding slightly as it moves down streets illuminated by streetlights and colourful Christmas garlands decorating shops and buildings.

Eris rests his head against the window, watching as snowflakes swirl under the streetlights. Despite the Christmas spirit and him looking forward to seeing his family, his chest all of a sudden feels heavy with longing and sadness (not so suddenly actually, he has been feeling like this almost all throughout December). Only a year ago, he had spent Christmas with the most amazing person in the world and then—

"My name’s Suri. I came here, three—no let me think, five years ago. Love that city, great place for people, isn’t it?"

Absently, Eris answers with a quiet, "Mhm", his gaze still locked on the outside world and the snow.

Unaffected by his indifference, Suri continues. "Yo, stranger, where I picked you up, that’s close to my fave Italian restaurant. Have you tried the Pepperoni pizza there? Changed my life, let me tell you that. And don’t even get me started on the Burgers from … man, I don’t remember the shop. The one with the blue sign, it glows at night, right next to the shop selling all those designer bags …"

Eris, even if he deems it rude, zones out. Finally, he can get some rest. Finally, after months full of stress and emotional exhaustion. A few days with his family, with his niece and his beloved dogs. Deep within his heart he knows he deserves it. He deserves this time after everything he has been through. After him.

"Ever been to Times Square on New Year’s Eve? Did you like it? I think it’s magical, but way too crowded to really enjoy it."

Perfect for the first kiss with a man you think you will spend your whole life with only for him to tear your heart out and rip it into shreds a few years later, Eris thinks but doesn’t say out loud. He only sighs loudly and closes his eyes.

They have moved from Last Christmas to O Holy Night and Mariah Carey‘s voice fills the inside of the cab, singing happily and cheerily.

"But you know, despite all the noise, the people and the large crowds, there’s something about this city" … Suri pauses. A dramatic pause that turns into him singing parts of the lyrics along with Mariah before continuing. "No matter where you are from, no matter who you are, you will always find someone who understands you. Who sees you for who you are. Who likes you. Who sees the good in you and who loves you for who you are."

Eris‘ breathing deepens as the back of his throat starts to ache. He hates that. Hates that Suri‘s words shake him to the core. Hates that suddenly silver lines his eyes.

"One day you randomly meet a stranger, and five minutes later, you are sharing life stories or you will end up snogging in the restroom of a bar and then end up in their bed. And two years later you are happily married and you are expecting your first child. But whatever, what‘s your name stranger?"

It takes him a moment to answer, sharply ripped from his thoughts, from all the memories of their time together flooding his mind like tidal waves. A lump has formed in his throat that makes it almost impossible for him to answer, to breathe.

Eris coughs. Once. Twice, not wanting to be rude and not answer. "Eris," he eventually replies, his voice tense as he clutches his bag to his chest. "My name is Eris."

“Funny name,” Suri replies with a chuckle. “Isn’t that a Greek goddess?”

“The goddess of strife and discord.” Eris presses his lips in a thin line, turning his head to the side again. Piles of snow line the edges of the sidewalks. Eris' gaze follows them as the traffic is moving slow, his thoughts unfocused now that old wounds have been ripped open. He can’t be necessarily mad at Suri for bringing up all the things, but he somehow is.

He tried so hard to get rid of all the thoughts, the memories and now … now it’s all he can think about. As they pass Central Park, the usual vibrance seems muted by the snow, colder and darker and a shudder courses through Eris – either from his longing or the cold he is still feeling. He knows that Central Park’s appearance mirrors the feelings deep within him. Cold. Dark. Sad.

Suri continues to ramble, to sing cheerily, unaffected by Eris’ indifference.

Eris is no longer listening to him, or rather no longer listening again, the only sound in his ears the sad beat of his heart. And his voice, his laugh in his mind and it hurts just like a year ago. Hurts just like every damn day of the previous year.

Finally, the airport’s glow appears through the haze, bright lights cutting through the heavy snowfall and Eris straightens. The taxi pulls up close by one of the entrances, tires crunching over snow and then stops. His eyes close for a moment, and when Suri tells him the price for the ride, Eris lets out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. Finally. Finally he is going home and can forget about all the sadness for at least a few days.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

The relief about having arrived at the airport vanishes within seconds. It feels like a harsh slap to Eris’ face, one that almost knocks him off his feet, sending him flying through the air, and ends in a brutal landing on his butt.

“Fuck,” Eris curses under his breath and his stomach drops at the sight of him. His ex-boyfriend—his ex-fiancé.

The dark-haired man looks equally surprised to see Eris, equally uncomfortable, a forced smile stretching across his lips that Eris doesn’t reciprocate when their eyes meet. He only walks towards Azriel - well, rather towards his gate. Or their gate apparently. It only makes sense that Azriel is here but at the same time doesn’t. They grew up in villages that weren’t far apart, but what are the chances that Azriel would also wait until the last minute to fly back home for Christmas?

Eris‘ heart pounds in disbelief, heat rising in his face when the smile, this stupidly handsome smile, doesn’t fade from his ex-lovers face. The audacity!

The boldness makes Eris’ nostrils flare and anger blaze through his veins, the audacity of Azriel to smile and act like everything is alright when he had been the sole to destroy his heart.

"We aren’t meant for one another," he had told him back then and it butchered every part of Eris‘ heart that hadn’t been broken before. He was left in pieces when the man he loved most left him and now said man dares to smile at him.

The only thing that brings Eris comfort is that Azriel isn’t as chill about their surprised meeting as he pretends to be. He is nervously clenching and unclenching his hands—his scarred hands, caused by a kitchen fire in his childhood.

Eris remembers how often he rubbed salve on those hands in winter, how he kissed them, how he held them close and warmed them. Not that it ended up meaning anything to Azriel.

Eris‘ eyes dart away, hoping that when he looks back, his ex is gone. But luck has never been on his side. Obviously Azriel, and his awful smile are still there.

It‘s only a few more steps and Eris can feel how his chest tightens more and more, how awkward he suddenly thinks he must look walking towards him. He gets a sudden urge to flee, run, but he is rooted to the ground (and 32 and running would be very, very childish in his mind).

A forced calmness, almost like cool boredom, falls in place on his face and masks his swirling emotions, masks the hurt that is rooted so deeply within his heart.

"Hello Eris." Azriel is the one to speak up first and despite feeling an enormous amount of anger, his smokey voice still causes the same reaction in Eris—chills all over his body. "It’s—"

But Eris holds up a hand to stop him. "Don‘t say it’s good to see me, I really don’t need another lie on top of all the lies you have told me in the past." He shows him a sardonic grin and steps past him, hating that he let his mask drop and his bitterness could reach the surface.

Before Eris can settle into the awkwardness of their first conversation after a year of not talking to one another and his frustration over this conversation even happening, a loud noise sounds through the speakers of the airport. The screeching makes him cringe but doesn’t shock him even half as much as the announcement that is made a second later.

"Dear Passengers, due to the worsening of the snowstorm and the current weather situation we are sorry to inform you that all flights have been cancelled. No planes will leave John F. Kennedy airport this evening and throughout the night. Thank you for understanding. Hotels and hostels closeby will be offering…"

Within seconds, the airport erupts in chaos, frustrated groans and sighs rippling through the shocked and furious crowd and making it impossible for Eris to hear the rest of what is said but he can assume that hotels are offering rooms to those stranded at the airport without a place to go for the night.

Well, at least I can go home and not have to find a hotel, Eris thinks to himself even if a peach-sized weight settles into heart that makes him feel nothing but sadness and disappointment about not seeing his family anytime soon. On Christmas. It means he will be alone on Christmas, and as much as he tries to ignore the fact, the back of his mouth starts to ache as tears start to burn behind his eyes.

Reluctantly, he turns back and finds Azriel still standing where he last saw him. The man’s face has fallen in disbelief and for a split second Eris feels bad for him, knowing Azriel will probably be all alone as well. The moment of compassion, however, passes too quickly to really leave an impact on Eris. He shakes it off, thinking that if Azriel hadn’t ruined everything, he wouldn’t be alone now. If Azriel hadn’t ruined everything they would have spent Christmas together…

Eris feels how his head starts to spin and buzz from all the noises around him. Phones are ringing as passengers search for ideas on how to escape the airport and queues, long queues, form instantly at the desks of the airport. The tension in the air thickens with frustration and involuntary him and Azriel exchange an uncertain glance before his ex turns away and heads for the exit.

Finally he is gone, Eris thinks, hoping to not see Azriel again so soon. Or ever. He hopes he never has to see him again. Never has to have an encounter with him again.

Mutters of annoyance and disbelief fill the air around Eris, and it almost gets to the point of being overwhelming. He wants to get out of here immediately, but not before trying to book another flight in the morning. Eris approaches the counter, or rather the queue in front of it, his heart beating unsteadily.

The lady at the counter shakes her head, “I have no information, I have already told you so. Come back in the morning, we will know more by then.” Without another word, she turns the sign on the desk so that it says "closed" instead of "open", turns off her computer and locks up the counter.

Frustration and sadness flicker in Eris’ eyes and he rubs his hand over his chin before summoning the strength to turn around and walk away. He somehow doesn’t fully want to believe it. He will truly be alone on Christmas and only God knows when there will be a next chance to see his family. This hurts. Christmas all alone. Without his family. He wasted a holiday at work only so he could see his family and only to end up completely alone in the end. What a shame!

Seeing Eris again after all this time has unsettled Azriel more than he likes to admit. Covering his face with his forearm, Azriel heads out into the snowstorm and realises that it has indeed worsened.

"God," Azriel breathes and his heart drops even lower than it did when seeing Eris before. New York has turned into a snow chaos, you can barely make out any buildings, or trees or people, or anything.

In addition, speaking to the cab drivers lined up in front of the airport is equally disappointing as getting the flight being cancelled and having to run into Eris out of everyone he could have run into. So, reluctantly Azriel returns inside a heavy weight of sorrow resting upon his chest about not seeing his family—his found family and his mother— for Christmas and having to spend it all alone once more.

Last year he wasn’t alone, last year he was with—Speak of the devil!

Just as he steps inside, his body collides with the one person he really didn’t want to bump into again.

Eris’ expression is equally grim as his own and as he tries to hurry past him, however Azriel’s arm flies forward before he can think about what he is doing and he holds Eris back.

“No cabs,” Azriel says, frustration ringing loud in his voice. “It’s too dangerous, streets are shutting down and the cab drivers won‘t take a risk. Only option is to call someone for a ride." He lets go of Eris‘ arm when he feels the man’s body tense beneath his palm.

Eris’ face falls instantly. “I have no one to pick me up," he breathes and the look on his face almost makes Azriel want to wrap him into his arms and tell him that he will be fine. “I was going to my family, no one is here, no one can pick me up.”

Azriel nods and a deep sigh parts his lips, “Same.”

Silence falls upon them like a heavy sheet that almost crushes them beneath it, and yet an unspoken bond of shared helplessness forms between them.

"So I guess we need to find a hotel then. Come on."

We. We! Azriel has long ago stopped hoping he would ever hear Eris referring to them as we. He stopped when he ended things between them. When he became the reason for Eris to stop referring to them as we. Azriel never wanted to, but it was for the best. For Eris. But now the We is back and a kernel of hope, of happiness, flickers back to life deep within Azriel’s chest.

>>>>>>

"We are sorry but there is only one room available." The lady with the tight bun on top of her head presses her lips in a thin line, clearly frustrated. "I have told you before and all the money in the world that you are willing to give me won’t make another room appear, Mr Vanserra. There is only one room left, you're not the only one stranded at the airport tonight." Her tone is so sharp, it could almost cut through the wood of her desk.

It’s now the third hotel close to the airport. The first two had no room left, this one only one.

Eris begins to nod, reluctantly, and gives in. It is what it is, he thinks. They will have to stay here, because walking back to their apartments in the snowstorm is definitely not an option. For neither of them. He doesn’t know where Azriel now lives, but he guesses it isn’t close-by either.

"All right, we‘ll take it." He snatches the keycard from the desk and tilts his head towards the staircase, signalling Azriel that they are moving now. Azriel looks equally annoyed over the fact of having to spend at least the rest of the evening and the night with no other than his ex-boyfriend in a hotel room.

A very small hotel room.

The room is even smaller than expected, but at least somehow cosy, Eris thinks. With a double bed and a small desk and drawer and a lamp on top that casts a warm glow upon the dark brown carpet and wallpaper, it looks almost comfortable. But who cares about cosy and comfortable when you are trapped with your ex?

Eris realises that Azriel is worse at hiding his obvious irritation about the size of the room than he himself when he catches him cringes.

He takes it as a chance to shoot something at him, and make his frustration air. The door falls shut behind them and Eris turns to Azriel, scowling. “Don’t make a face like this. It’s not like we haven’t shared a room before,” Eris grumbles and Azriel flashes him an incredulous look.

"You wouldn’t even properly say hello to me at the airport and now—"

"Now we are trapped in a snowstorm, so we better accept our fate and move on."

"Right," Azriel groans, pressing his lips in a thin line. "Then I get the bed."

"Obviously, not. I get the bed. Remember, my sensitive back."

"You‘re just old," Azriel bites back.

Eris glares at him, bracing his knee on the mattress. "I have a sensitive back!"

Azriel mirrors his movement. "And you‘re old."

"I‘m only two years older than you."

"You‘re closer to forty than I am."

"You‘re impossible, Azriel." Eris shakes his head.

"You‘re egoistic. That’s probably why we broke up in the first place."

An emotion, almost like regret, flashes in Azriel’s eyes for having said these words.

Yet, he gets no chance to apologise. Eris won’t give him one. He turns away sharply and plops down onto the carpeted floor. He says nothing as he leans his head against the wall, and closes his eyes.

His heart hurts too much to speak.

>>>>>>>>

Azriel knows that it was wrong to say what he said. Eris had not once been egoistic. And so it clearly wasn’t the reason for their break up. The reason for their breakup was … far more complex.

Azriel loved Eris, but knew he had never been good enough for someone like Eris. Eris is perfect and Azriel is … far from perfect.

He has never stopped thinking that.

Eris comes from a rich English family that moved to America when Eris was only a few years old. Their family business thrived even more here—boomed, to be specific. Eris, other than most of his brothers, didn’t enter into the company but became a doctor instead. Which is still a completely different world than the one Azriel lives in—growing up only with his mother who had worked three jobs at a time so she could make a living. Azriel loves his mother, and he liked his childhood—to clarify, the parts that he didn’t have to spend with his awful father.

A sigh parts Azriel’s lips, cutting through the heavy silence that has fallen over them. He cast a sidelong glance at Eris, watching the deep frown on his beautiful face as he concentrates on something on his phone.

Azriel has absentmindedly been watching the news on the TV, the volume turned silent, only looking at the pictures, too distracted by the tension in the air to truly focus. Unsaid words linger in the space between them, words of apology and forgiveness, but neither of them is ready to speak up yet.

So Azriel retreats to his own thoughts, turning off the TV and leaning his head back, resting it against the bed frame. Memories of their past—of their shared past— slowly start to slither into his mind like greedy snakes, feasting on his pain.

The first time they met was at a party of his best friend Rhys and his girlfriend Feyre. Their first meeting was all stolen glances across the room, soft chatter and a too-drunk kiss in the kitchen, sloppy and needy, both of them using too much tongue and tasting of liquor and smoke. It made them both laugh.

He remembers when they first held hands in public, the looks people gave them and how Eris had assured Azriel that they were fine. Eris had dated men before him, Azriel hadn’t. Eris was his first. His first everything when it came to being with a man. He was worried, almost scared, at the beginning, but everything eased quickly and he fell madly in love with Eris Vanserra.

He has never stopped being in love with him.

The thing he loved most about their time together were their late-night conversations where they shared dreams and memories. Another thing he loved was going to concerts with Eris. They went to see Hozier and Ed Sheeran, and went to Coachella together.

Azriel’s eyes flicker open and he glances at Eris again, but the man is still focused on his phone. His posture is tense and stiff, his jaw clenched.

Azriel desperately wants the frown to vanish from Eris’ face and see his ex smile again. He loved when Eris smiled, loved it even more when he laughed—it was the most beautiful sound in the entire world. He loved hearing it. He wants to hear it again.

They had so many inside jokes they could probably laugh an entire day about them. And their playful teasing was one of Azriel’s favourite things in the world. He always acted annoyed but deep inside him, he loved them.

His eyes close again. Involuntarily, a sad smile appears on his lips at the memories, at the quiet mornings they spent in bed, limbs entangled. At the shared meals they often cooked together, or simply held each other close, talking softly until late into the night. The I love yous they shared. So many of them. And each one was sincere and honest.

As his thoughts start to stray, Azriel cheeks start to warm.

He also loved sex with Eris. The man always made him feel like he was a king, like he deserved the world, like it was all about his pleasure, about making him feel good. And he did, every time they were intimate, even if it was just a quick, shared moment of desire in the bathroom before both needed to go to work.

Work. It hits Azriel like a slap and makes his blood run cold. Work was a major reason for their breakup. Or at least, in Azriel’s opinion, it was.

It started with small arguments, mostly fueled by Azriel’s frustration about finding a job, then losing it because the company had to reduce its number of employees. Obviously, Azriel thought that he wasn’t good enough and so they chose him and kicked him out. Then months of hopeless searching for a new job came, only to lose the next one as well. The stress had got the best of him and he found himself unloading it all on Eris, reminding himself over and over again that he wasn’t good enough for the Vanserra and Eris deserved much better.

He didn’t even have enough money to take Eris out on a proper date or buy him large, fancy gifts. Obviously Eris would never say that it bothered him. The doctor never said that it bothered him that Azriel lived in his flat without having to pay a penny, and always assured him that he would soon find a job. Azriel wanted to believe that, but failed.

Working in IT can be incredible, but only when you had a secure job—and finding that security was the biggest challenge he ever faced. Only recently, around four months ago, he finally managed to land something secure. Hopefully.

Azriel swallows thickly and the back of his mouth starts to ache. He clenches his jaw.

The silence in the room feels almost oppressive at this point, pressing down on him and making it hard for him to breathe. He opens his eyes again.

Apparently, Azriel isn’t the only one to think so, the only one who can no longer stand the silence between them.

Eris is shifting uncomfortably, then he turns to Azriel. He clears his throat and his eyes briefly brush Azriel’s. "Your mother, Eleni, … have you informed her that you are trapped here?"

After all this time, Azriel thinks, Eris still worries about my mother. He still worries. He still cares.

"I sent her a message." Azriel’s voice is hoarse, raspy from not talking for a while.

A curt nod is Eris‘ answer, lips pressed in a firm line.

"Did you inform your family?"

"I told Lucien, he will tell mum. I believe my father couldn’t care less about me coming home or not. I think he couldn’t care less about me not being there. I’m not even sure I will go see him this year…"

In the past, Eris always found it difficult to talk about his family situation and Azriel knows that he was one of the few people that Eris opened up to. He told him about his mother and her new partner, about Beron staying in the family home and that Imala had to move out when they got their divorce.

And there it is, Eris opening up again, not shutting him out. Azriel will take this as a chance and a kernel of relief blooms within him. He shifts on the bed, moving closer to his ex-boyfriend still sitting on the carpeted floor.

"The situation hasn’t changed?" Azriel carefully asked. It is a stupid question, he knows this. As long as Eris loves men, his father will despise him. Nothing will ever change about that—it is the same with his own father.

"He won’t change. He will never change, Azriel."

Finally, Eris really meets his gaze, his eyes are nothing but sad. Azriel fights the urge to reach out, to brush his cheek, his hair, his shoulder and kiss the sadness away. He can’t stand it, seeing Eris like this. He never could.

"But whatever. It‘s just my father and I only have to see him two to three times a year." Eris wears a sardonic smile as he shakes his head. "How‘s life been treating you lately?"

I miss you every day, Eris, Azriel thinks, but doesn’t say out loud. Obviously he doesn’t say so. He was the one to end things back then.

So, he only shrugs his shoulders. "I can’t complain. I landed a job in this start-up company and it’s looking really good. Finally something that seems secure."

"I’m glad to hear this." The honesty in Eris‘ smile, mirrors the one in his eyes. He means it.

"Meaning I can finally give you back all the money and—"

"The fuck you will, Azriel!" The smile on Eris’ lips immediately turns into a scowl—his eyes ablaze with anger. "It wasn’t like I was your sugar daddy. I paid for the flat because it was my flat and—"

"I lived there as well."

"It was still my flat. I got to keep it after our breakup while you had to find a new place to live. Hell, where do you even live now?"

"Staten Island," Azriel answers flatley.

Eris acknowledges the information with a curt nod.

"You took me on dates—"

"Because I wanted to. I wanted to take you out and go to places with you. I also benefited from these dates and trips, it wasn’t just for you. I enjoyed myself too."

"You paid for my Coachella ticket."

"It was your birthday present." Eris shakes his head again. "I have never cared about spending money, and especially not about spending money on things we could do together. That we would enjoy together. As a couple. I loved spending time with you and I couldn’t care less if we needed money for it or not. It was never about the price, only about being with you."

The words shake Azriel to the core, landing like a harsh slap on his cheek.

He is frozen in place for a moment, unable to say something. Then after a second and a deep breath, he opens his mouth. "I liked spending time with you as well." Azriel throws his statement into the room like it physically pains him to say so.

"Clearly,” Eris says, his tone sarcastic, “so much that you broke up with me."

"These are two completely different pairs of shoes, Eris," Azriel groans. "And don’t make it sound like breaking up with you was so easy for me."

"Well it seemed rather easy for you." Eris crosses his arms over his chest, glowering as he looks up at Azriel.

Azriel presses his lips in a thin line. His eyes close, then open, and he flexes his fingers. "Can you please sit up here with me. I can’t talk to you like that. Not when you are still sitting on the floor."

A frown graces Eris‘ face, but eventually he rises —reluctantly and slowly— and joins Azriel on the bed, sinking into the soft cushions, but keeping a fine distance between him and Azriel.

He seems to hesitate, but eventually says, “I never got closure. I have never stopped thinking about what I have done wrong, how I could have fixed all the things broken. Why I didn't see the signs before it was too late." Eris’ voice is low and vulnerable.

Azriel looks away, guilt flickering in his eyes. “Ending our relationship wasn’t as easy as I made it seem.”

"Right." A sardonic chuckle from Eris‘ lips.

"I mean it." Azriel’s frustration rises as the pain from the past resurfaces. Memories of many nights crying alone in bed, or in Cass‘ or Rhys‘ arms, or drunk at a bar at three am, resurface.

"And still you just left… and my heart was torn apart and broken into a million pieces," Eris spits, the hurt loud and clear in his voice as he turns his head away sharply, almost as if dismissing Azriel as his gaze fixates on the storm still raging outside the window.

Emotionally charged silence hangs between them in the moments that follow. Azriel’s stomach twists with regret, his throat tightening when he says, "I’m so sorry." He knows it is a stupid thing to say, too little, too late, but he really is sorry. Their relationship should have never ended like this. It should have never ended.

>>>>>>>>

They exchange a look after Azriel‘s unasked apology. Their gazes linger and it twists his gut. The hurt is palpable, and eventually Eris says, "I have never moved on." His voice is barely above a whisper. "I couldn’t. I couldn’t imagine myself without you."

Azriel releases a deep breath as the words settle between them. "I‘ve felt the same way."

After their mutual revelations, they lose the eye contact again as if looking at each other would make them do something irrational. Something stupid. And yet, unconsciously, Eris‘ pinky finger brushes Azriel’s. The other tenses, body going stiff and Eris notices how Azriel suddenly holds his breath. But then, to his surprise, he moves his hand as well, and slides it into Eris‘.

Eris freezes, almost shocked, his heart lurching in his chest. He can feel the sparks between their hands. The chemistry has not faded, electricity still erupts between their palms whenever they touch. Even a year after their break up.

Eris steals a quick glance at Azriel, noticing how his cheeks have turned rosy and how a small smile plays on his lips. He promptly averts his gaze again, looking at the frost-covered windows and the still heavy snowfall outside. A deep breath parts his lips, and he realises that his chest no longer feels so heavy, so tight.

“It’s scary, but also beautiful, isn’t it?” he murmurs.

"The snowstorm?" Azriel asks in a soft whisper.

"Love." This time when he turns his head, Azriel is already looking at him, eyes heavy-lidded as they momentarily brush Eris‘ lips and then immediately snap up to his eyes again.

For Eris it somehow feels like the moment he saw Azriel for the first time. How he fell in love with Azriel at first sight. The moment at the party when their eyes met for the first time. Azriel is more beautiful than any other man he has ever seen before. He isn’t only beautiful on the outside, but also deep within his heart – the part Eris fell in love with.

The Vanserra shifts uncomfortably on the bed, the space between them too big but at the same time too narrow. He tears his gaze away from Azriel, not wanting to do something irrational like all of a sudden kiss him. He really wants to, but knows how stupid it would be. It would make everything ever more complicated and if there is something he really doesn’t need in his life on top of everything else than it is complication. Especially when it comes to his ex-boyfriend.

He turns his attention back to the snowstorm, to the frost outside while his own heart - fully of its own accord - starts to warm within him. His voice is a quiet mutter, almost swallowed by the silence around them when he says, "I never understood your intentions, Azriel. One moment you were here and everything seemed fine, and the next you grew distant and threw everything away."

Azriel’s face falls, the small smile fading as frustration flickers in his eyes. "There had been a distance between us long before."

"A distance you forced between us," Eris cuts in sharply, voice laced with bitterness. His jaw tightens, and he turns back to look at Azriel with a mixture of pain and anger in his auburn eyes.

"It wasn’t just me or my fault. You played your role in it as well."

Eris‘ eyes widen in surprise. "I loved you, Azriel. And I would have given everything for you, for our love. I even cut strings with my father, for you. For us!"

Azriel flinches at the words, a flash of hurt crossing over his face before he quickly hides it. He breathes in deeply. Once, twice, a few times. Then he exhales a long breath and lets his chin fall to his chest. "That‘s part of the problem. I didn’t want you to do it. To have to do this. Not because of me. He is your family. I wanted to protect you from … losing him." His voice is thick with emotion, trembling as silver starts to line his eyes.

Eris lets out a shaky breath. "Protect me from losing them? I would have never lost my family. My real family, the people who care about me and love me. And when it comes to my father? I wouldn’t really call it a loss. I hate that man." He shakes his head with a loud snort. "You should have talked to me. You made the decision of the breakup for both of us without even giving me a chance to talk to you. Wanting to protect me but destroying me in the course of it.”

"I was scared you wouldn’t understand and I’d only end up hurting you more. I thought you would be much better off without me and eventually would forget about me.”

Eris is shaken by his ex-boyfriend's revelation. His anger falters as his hands start to tremble. "Forget you? Forget us and everything we had? Azriel, you were the only person I could never forget. I loved you more than my own life. You were my world.”

Azriel’s eyes glisten, his shoulders lifting and falling with deep breaths. "I could never forget you either. You were … everything to me, Eris. Everything I had in this damn city and everything I loved… I love the most in the world."

Eris reaches up to wipe away a tear, then swallows roughly. He wants to say something, anything, but he is at a loss of words. Especially when Azriel continues, his truth shaking Eris to the core.

“I never stopped loving you, Eris. Not for a single second," Azriel admits in a voice laden with regret.

A sheet of heavy silence falls over them as the words sink in. Eris is unable to answer, to do anything. He only looks at the wall across from them, replaying Azriel’s revelation in his mind.

Eventually Eris lowers his gaze, his voice barely above a whisper when he says, “I couldn’t move on either. It was simply impossible.” He gives his head a little shake before lifting his gaze again. "Did you… try moving on with someone else?"

Azriel’s throat bobs. "I’ve tried it. Tried dating. But … nothing felt like it did with you," he admits. "Nothing felt like you. No one did."

Their fingers are still naturally laced together, as if they belong together. Because they do, Eris thinks. Because their hands belong together just as much as they do.

"What do you mean?" he asks in a quiet voice.

Azriel’s features soften. "With you, I felt good, seen and loved. Respected and happy. I felt alive. I loved being with you, and experiencing everything the universe had planned for us. I was a fool for what I did. For ending … us. It is my biggest regret in life. My biggest mistake."

When their eyes meet again, there is a spark in Eris‘ eyes—a silent question, a flicker of hope.

The space between them grows narrow, their breaths mingling as they slowly lean closer. Azriel’s gaze drops to Eris’s lips, then back up, as if silently asking for permission. Their foreheads touch, their eyes close and then, slowly, tentatively, their lips meet.

The kiss is hesitant, almost as if they have never kissed before. As if their lips have never touched before, as if their lips have never kissed every part of the other‘s body before.

The moment is too precious, too fragile to rush anything. They want to enjoy it. Bringing one hand up, Eris lets it glide over Azriel’s arm, to his shoulder and eventually to the back of Azriel’s head where he tangles his fingers into the silken strands at the nape of his neck. He wants to deepen the kiss, devour Azriel‘s lips and savour every small moment of it.

However, he makes the plan without Azriel‘s mum. A sudden, shrill ringing cuts through the moment, making them pull away from each other sharply.

Azriel seems to be needing a moment to gather his thoughts, appearing slightly confused as he looks around him, confusion flickering across his face, before reaching into his pocket to fish out his phone. "Mom!" he exclaims, his voice tinged with surprise as he presses the phone to his ear. "I'm fine, yes. And yes, I have food. What—I didn’t get that?"

Eris chuckles softly, the sound low and teasing, before he drags his hand down his face. Then with the confidence of a man who has just kissed his ex-boyfriend who seems to miss him just as much as he does, he reaches out, tipping Azriel's chin up with two fingers, a warm smile playing on his lips.

"Tell her I miss her," he mouths to Azriel.

The man, his phone still against his head, shoves Eris’ hand away and then flips him off.

"Hopefully tomorrow," Azriel says then, smiling as their eyes meet again. "Don’t worry about me, I‘m alright. More than alright. I‘m looked after." His smile turns into something akin to a grin and then he begins to nod. "I will tell you everything when I‘m home. Love you, see you soon. Bye—yes, don’t worry. Yes! Mom! Good, Love you."

Azriel is blushing when he lowers his phone to the mattress, a sheepish smile on his lips. "Where were we?" he asks and leans in again.

Eris mirrors his movement, yet the moment their lips brush, he doesn’t kiss the other, but instead says, "There is something else, right? Another reason you broke up with me. Tell me. Be honest with me. Please. I deserve that."

Azriel’s eyes flutter shut, his trembling lids mirroring the quivering of his lips. He seems to fight with his emotions, struggling to find the right words, but also finally ready to reveal the whole truth he has been holding back the past year.

He swallows audibly and opens his eyes again. Unshed tears form in them as they lock with Eris‘ auburn ones.

"I felt like a burden to you, Eris," Azriel admits, and releases a deep sigh. "You always paid for everything. You worked so hard, while all I ever did was search for jobs—only to find one and lose it within a month. Someone like me will never be good enough for someone like you." He shakes his head, but Eris catches his face gently in his hands. His palms soft against the stubble on Azriel‘s jaw.

"I don’t deserve you, Eris," Azriel continues before his ex can speak. He is not done yet pouring out his heart and putting all the cards on the table. "I never did. I’m not a good guy and—"

"You are!" Eris interrupts, his voice shaking as tears start to line his eyes. "You are and you always were. This is absolute bullshit you're saying. You were never a burden to me."

"Maybe you didn’t realise how much—"

"How much I loved you? How little I cared about the fact that I was paying for most of our dates as you said before. I wouldn’t even have noticed if you hadn’t told me. I loved you, everything about you, every small detail and I couldn’t care less about how much money you brought into our relationship. We are not living in the Middle Ages anymore where the betrothed has to bring a certain amount of money into the marriage."

He drags in a deep breath, sliding his hands from his face to his shoulder, then gently, he pulls Azriel’s closer. “Azriel,” Eris begins, his voice low, “you were everything to me.”

Azriel’s lips part, and a shaky breath escapes. “You were everything to me.”

Eris’s hands begin to tremble, his own eyes watering. “I never stopped thinking about you. I never stopped loving you. It was always you, Azriel. And it will—”

“And will forever be,” Azriel finishes, his voice barely above a whisper. "It will forever be you, Eris."

A faint smile tugs at Azriel’s lips as he adds, “Fucking fortunate that we were caught in this damn snowstorm.”

Eris lets out a quiet laugh at that, the sound easing some of the sadness between them.

"Otherwise we would have never talked…"

"We‘re idiots."

"You‘re an idiot, Azriel. You should have talked to me and not ended things without—"

"I know. I know I am and what I did was the worst mistake I could have ever made. I’m sorry."

Eris shifts on the bed, lying down. Azriel follows and lays his head down on Eris’s chest, right above his heart. Naturally, Eris’s hand finds its way to the nape of Azriel’s neck, his fingers threading softly into his hair.

Eris exhales a long breath. "I missed this."

"I missed you," Azriel sighs and his tears start to run freely.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

When Eris wakes, an odd feeling of familiarity overcomes him. His face is pressed against the juncture where Azriel‘s neck meets his shoulder, his arm tightly wrapped around the other man, their limbs entangled. In his nose, there is only the scent of Azriel, the cologne he always uses, dark and musky.

"Good morning, baby," Eris drawls in his sleepy, morning voice and his eyes open wide within an instant, while his heart slams to a halt. He notices his mistake immediately.

Baby.

God! It has just slipped through his lips. However Azriel, much to his own relief, doesn’t seem to mind, doesn’t seem to consider it a mistake.With a lazy smile playing on his lips, the man turns in Eris‘ hold, then kisses Eris’ jaw.

"Morning, baby." The lazy smile quickly turns into a silly grin that makes Azriel, even though he is in his thirties, appear oddly boyish. "God! I missed the sound of you calling me that." He blows out a happy breath. "And I missed calling you that."

"I did too," Eris hums and lowers his forehead to Azriel‘s. He smiles, his heart oddly at ease. However the man below him starts to pout and wiggle in his hold. "Where is my good morning kiss?"

"Right here." Eris kisses him softly, carefully, and yet the hunger of all the time missed between them pours into it. Eris slides his tongue over the seam of Azriel’s lips, gently asking for entrance which the man happily grants him.

It is wonderful, Eris thinks, the feeling so familiar and warm. Their lips are made for one another, perfectly sealing, becoming one.

They kiss for a long time, so long they don‘t even notice that the snowstorm outside has started to calm, now only single, small flakes of white swirl around in the frosty December air.

Azriel’s starts to tangle his fingers in the hair at the nape of Eris‘ neck, almost as if never wanting to let go again. He deepens the kiss, pressing his mouth against Eris‘ with quite an urgency as if to forget about everything that happened between them, as if to erase the 11 months that separated them.

The kiss is intense, needy, hungry, Eris realises, and suddenly the room feels too small, the walls too close, the space too narrow and he can’t breathe anymore.

He can’t keep kissing Azriel—not when their paths will part after today, anyway. Too much has happened between them, and some things can’t be undone. They can’t just go back to how things were before they broke up, can they?

Azriel must have noticed Eris’ sudden distraction, that he no longer focuses on the moment, on the kiss and so he slowly pulls back. And so does Eris.

Eris’ eyes shut and he wipes his hand down his face, his heart slumping.

"Fuck," he curses, and yet his voice is soft, and slightly hoarse. His hand lingers on Azriel’s face a moment longer, before he lets it drop to the pillow below.

"We still need to talk about—What this—what last night, what all of this means … to us." He exhales a long, shuddering breath. "For our future. And for us."

Azriel sucks in a shuddering breath. "I was an idiot." His jaw flexes as he grinds his teeth in anger. "I projected everything I was feeling on you and that was wrong."

Their gazes finally meet again and lock. "I want to give us another chance. I want us to try again—" He stops himself, wipes his hand over his mouth and then adds, "Given that this is also what you want."

Hesitance and doubt settles in Eris gut like a heavy weight, making his breathing deepen.

"I promise I’ll do better this time. I‘ll stop convincing myself I’m not good enough for you. I‘ll stop believing that we don’t work out together."

A mix of many emotions flickers over Eris‘ face—worry, longing, fear, … love. He has never stopped loving Azriel, isn’t even sure he would ever be able to do so, but trying a relationship again when last time‘s end tore him into pieces…?

"Azriel…” he starts, but his voice trembles so hard he needs a moment to breathe. He turns his head away and his eyes close.

"I don’t want to lose you. Not again, Eris. Please … let me fight for us. I messed up. I messed up a lot, but I won’t make this mistake again."

Eris exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, still not looking at Azriel. "Last time the break up destroyed me. I can’t do this a second time. I won‘t survive it a second time."

"It won’t happen again. Never again. We will try and we will fight. I will fight to do better, I will—"

"I don’t want you to have to do this. I don’t want you to try and be better or do better. I want to be able to love you and that‘s all, Azriel."

Eris closes his eyes again, and when they open, he turns his head back to Azriel. "I want us to just love each other, without worrying about money or some similar bullshit. I want you, Azriel. Exactly how you are and not some other version of you, some fake version, some act you put on for my benefit. I want you the way you are right now, honest, sincere, vulnerable. I want the Azriel I got to know all those years ago." He pauses to breathe again.

"I’ve never stopped loving you. I want to be with you. All the distance between us, the time we couldn’t spend together showed me how much I actually love you, how much I need you in my life ,” he admits and of their own accord his hands reach out to pull Azriel in again.

"So, that‘s a yes to trying again?" Azriel places a soft kiss to Eris‘ chest, then fully snuggles his face into the other’s shirt.

Eris is about to answer, but takes a moment to consider. Then he kisses the top of Azriel‘s head. "I want us to give time." His fingers travel down the length of Azriel’s back and up again. "Let's not rush things now. We should give ourselves the time over Christmas to think about everything and then—"

"We‘ll meet and talk?" Azriel pushes up from Eris‘ chest, his sparkling eyes and his sheepish smile hopeful. "I‘ll be by back by the 28th and—"

"Me too." A faint smile forms on Eris‘ lips before he blows out a long, pent-up breath. "Don’t make me regret this."

tags: @azrielsbabyg @lady-riel @moonlightazriel @aayo-whatt @brekkershadowsinger @ladyelain @banasheefan56 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @ofduskanddreams @acourtofladydeath @secret-third-thing @born-to-riot @chunkypossum @jules-writes-stories @unanswered-stars @christeareads @mistandmemories @bookishbroadwaybish @c-starstuff-man0 @talibunny30 @nestasgoodside @baileybird71

thank you so much for beta reading @queercontrarian @born-to-riot and @moonlightazriel🫶🏻

#azris #acotar #azriel #acosf #azriel x eris #secretsanta2024 #acotar gift exchange #eris vanserra

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asgard23 · 3 days ago

Text

Yandere Cheater x Reader

Warning: 18+ noncon, cheating, language

Summary: After discovering your boyfriend of 2 years cheating on you, you decide to block him from your life. Will he accept it?

*Thought I'd create my own short Yandere Cheater story. Should I make a Part 2? Let me know!*

Thank you and please don’t forget to reblog<3

The bass throbbed, a physical force against your ribs as Alec’s lips devoured yours. His hands were everywhere, tracing the curve of your waist, dipping lower to cup your ass through your dress. The party swirled around you, a kaleidoscope of flashing lights and drunken laughter, but all you could feel was Alec, his heat, his need pressing against you. His tongue danced with yours frantic and desperate.

"Fuck, Y/N," he murmured against your lips, his breathing ragged. "I want you so fucking bad."

The air crackled with a shared desire, thick and heavy like the summer humidity outside.

"God, you feel so good," Alec murmured against your mouth, his voice husky. He deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring, demanding, and you found yourself melting into him, the noise of the party fading into a distant hum.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with wanting. "Y/N," he breathed, his forehead pressed against yours. "I want you so badly."

You knew what he meant. The years of pent-up desire, the unspoken longing that hung between you like a tangible thing. But you also knew your own convictions, the promise you’d made to yourself.

"We can't, Alec," you whispered, pulling away gently. "You know I want to wait till marriage."

His expression shifted, a flicker of frustration crossing his handsome features. He caught your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. "But baby," he pleaded, his voice soft. "Look at me. Look at what you do to me."

His eyes, usually bright and playful, were now intense, filled with a raw need that both thrilled and frightened you. He pulled you closer, his body pressing against yours, letting you feel the hardness straining against his jeans.

"You're so beautiful, Y/N," he murmured, his lips trailing kisses along your jawline. "So unbelievably sexy. I can't think straight when I'm around you." His hand found the small of your back, pulling you even tighter. "Just tonight," he whispered. "Just let me show you how much I want you."

His words were a tempting, promising pleasure and release. You closed your eyes, fighting the urge to give in.

"I'm sorry, Alec," you said, as you shake your head, your voice trembling. You stepped back, putting a safe distance between you.

"I um…. I told Tia I'd be at her place to help with her dissertation, love you."You spewl out quickly, trying to break the tension.

You turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, his frustration as blatant as his the tent in his pants.

“Love you too,” Alec says begrudgingly before you could even hear. You could feel his eyes on you as you navigated through the crowded room, relief and regret swirling inside you.

Alec watched you go, frustration tightening in his stomach. He ran a hand through his red hair, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He was tipsy, fueled by alcohol and desire, and the rejection stung. He knew you were serious about waiting,but it was hard. He'd wanted you from the very first moment he met you 4 years ago, and the constant denial was starting to wear him down.

You pulled out your phone, texting Tia as you walked through the crowd

You: On my way! Need that dissertation help?

Tia: Lol u know I do! Ur saving my life. Did u ditch Alec?

You: Had to. Got intense.

Tia: Omg the whole "waiting" thing? Still?

You: Yup. Don't wanna talk about it rn. Be there in 30.

Tia: Got snacks! See u soon boo <3

As you disappeared into the crowd, a figure emerged from the shadows, a predatory glint in her eyes. Ada. You'd never liked her, always sensing a possessive undercurrent in her interactions with Alec. The girl you never trusted, the one who always seemed to be lurking in the shadows, her eyes always lingering a little too long on Alec. The girl you instinctively knew wanted him.

"Hey, handsome," Ada purred, her voice a husky drawl. She was wearing a dress that barely qualified as clothing, a shimmering, skin-tight number that left little to the imagination. Her breasts were practically spilling out of the low-cut neckline.

Alec groaned inwardly. This was the last thing he needed.

"Ada," he said, his voice flat. "What do you want?"

She stepped closer, her body brushing against his. "Just checking on you," she said, her fingers trailing up his arm. "You looked a little…distressed."

He tried to pull away, but she was persistent, her touch provocative. "I'm fine," he said, his voice strained.

"Are you sure?" she asked, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Because I could think of a few ways to help you relax." Her gaze dropped suggestively to his crotch, and a jolt of unwanted desire shot through him.

He knew he should walk away. He knew he should tell her to get lost. But the alcohol, the frustration, and the lingering ache of unfulfilled desire clouded his judgment.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked, the words barely a whisper.

A slow, knowing smile spread across Ada's face. She reached out and took his hand, leading him towards a quieter corner of the room. "Let's just say," she whispered in his ear, "I'm very good at taking care of…needs."

She led him to an empty room hidden from the main dance floor. The music was still loud, but muffled, providing a strange sort of privacy.

Ada turned to him, her eyes gleaming in the dim light. She reached out and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, her fingers lingering against his skin.

"You know, Alec," she said, her voice low and breathy, "Y/N doesn't appreciate what she has."

He didn't say anything, his mind filled with too many conflicting and guilt ridden thoughts and emotions..

Ada leaned in and kissed him, her lips insistent. He hesitated for a moment, then gave in, his hands finding their way to her hips, pulling her closer.

The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more demanding. Ada's tongue danced with his, and a wave of dizziness washed over him. He knew this was wrong, terribly wrong, but he couldn't seem to stop himself.

She broke the kiss, her eyes sparkling with triumph. "Let me take care of you, Alec," she whispered, her hand reaching down to his belt buckle.

He closed his eyes, surrendering to the moment. He knew he would regret this later, but right now, all he could feel was the burning need, the desperate desire for release.

Ada expertly unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. His throbbing cock sprang free, and she gasped softly.

"God, you're so big," she breathed, her fingers closing around him. He groaned, his head falling back against the wall.

She began to stroke him, her touch both gentle and firm. The pleasure was intense, almost unbearable. He hadn’t gotten laid in 3 years, and everywhere was sensitive. He opened his eyes, watching her as she worked her magic.

Ada lowered her head, her lips brushing against his shaft. He gasped again, his body tensing in anticipation.

She took him into her mouth, her lips and tongue working him with practiced skill. He moaned, his hands gripping her hair, his entire body consumed by the sensation.

He was lost, completely lost in the moment. He couldn't think, couldn't reason, couldn't do anything but feel.

Unbeknownst to Alec, Ada had discreetly positioned her phone against a nearby pillar, the camera pointed directly at them. A small red light blinked, indicating that it was recording.

She sucked him harder, deeper, her throat bobbing rhythmically. He was on the verge of climax, his body shaking with anticipation.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned, his voice barely audible.

Ada continued her ministrations, driving him closer and closer to the edge. He could feel the pressure building, the tension coiling tighter and tighter.

Finally, he could take it no more. He erupted in a series of powerful thrusts, his body convulsing with release. He came hard, filling Ada's mouth with his seed.

She swallowed it all, her eyes gleaming with a sense of accomplishment. She pulled away, her face smeared with his cum.

"Mmm," she purred, licking her lips. "You taste so good."

Alec was still reeling from the orgasm, his body weak and trembling. He opened his eyes, his gaze unfocused.

Ada stood up, smoothing down her dress. She lifted the hem, revealing that she wasn't wearing any underwear. She looked at the camera, a triumphant smirk on her face. He groaned as he admired her figure and slapped her ass. Before Alec could react, she impaled herself on his still-hard cock. As she did, her moans were loud and exaggerated, almost pornographic, as if she were performing for an audience. (For you)

He gasped, the suddenness of the act taking his breath away.

He closed his eyes, a wave of guilt washing over him. But the sensation was too intense, too overwhelming to resist. He opened his eyes, staring down at Ada, who was now moving back and forth on his dick as she looked back at him seductively.

He grabbed her hips and began to fuck her at a steady pace. Ada moaned, her body arching against his. Her ass jiggling from each thrust. He closed his eyes and began to think of you his thrusts became harder, faster, his body driven by a primal urge and a yearning to be inside of you. Ada began to squeal, annoyingly bringing him out of his stupor of the image of you. Which only made him more determined to bring himself to release to be done with this treasonous act.

Ada's moans grew louder, more insistent.

He could feel her climax approaching, her body tensing, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Oh, God, Alec," she screamed, her body convulsing in a series of intense spasms.

He continued to fuck her, driving her higher and higher. He felt his own orgasm building, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter.

Finally, he exploded, his body shuddering with release. He came hard, filling her with his seed.

They collapsed against the wall, their bodies slick with sweat. Alec was panting, his heart racing.

Ada pulled away, her eyes told a story of mischief and envy, but Alec was too busy in his post coital bliss guilt to pay attention. Ada however, smoothed down her dress, completely unashamed.

"That was amazing, Alec," she purred. "You're a fucking animal."

Alec didn't say anything feeling sick with guilt and regret, disgusted with himself for giving in to the slut.. He knew he had made a terrible mistake. What had he done?

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

That very night, while you were at Tia's house, helping her with her dissertation, your phone buzzed. You glanced down and saw a message from an unknown number.

You opened the message. It contained a single link to a video file and a short text.

unknown: Thought you should see this. Your boyfriend had a very... productive night after you left. And man, did he taste sweet," the message read.

You frowned, confused. You didn't recognize the number. Who could this be? Your heart began to pound in your chest. Something felt terribly wrong.

You hesitated for only a moment, then pressed play. It was dark, grainy, but clear enough. The muffled music from the club. A hidden corner. And then you saw them. Alec. Ada. He was leaning against the wall, his eyes closed, head thrown back. Ada was kneeling in front of him, her hair a dark curtain around her face.

Your breath caught in your throat. Your heart skipped a beat. You felt a cold dread creeping through your veins.

The video showed Ada giving Alec a blowjob, her lips and tongue working him with practiced skill. You watched in horror as he moaned and writhed, completely lost in the moment.

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. You couldn't believe what you were seeing. Your Alec, the man you loved, was cheating on you.

The video continued, showing Ada impaling herself on Alec's cock, her body grinding against his. You watched in stunned silence as they fucked, their moans and gasps echoing through the speakers.

Your heart shattered into a million pieces. The pain was unbearable, a physical ache that consumed your entire being.

You watched the entire video, unable to tear your eyes away from the screen. Ada's malicious grin at the end, directed right at the camera, confirmed everything you feared.

Ada had set this up. She had deliberately recorded the entire encounter, knowing that it would destroy you.

The video ended abruptly. You stared at the blank screen, tears streaming down your face. The image of him with Ada, Ada's triumphant smirk towards the camera, was burned into your mind. He wasn't just cheating; he was being recorded. Ada hadn't just wanted him; she had wanted to humiliate you.

You stumbled to your feet, pacing the small apartment, mind reeling. The pain was a physical ache in your chest, sharp and unbearable. How could he? How could he do that? After everything? After you told him you weren't ready, after you walked away feeling guilty about leaving him frustrated... he went and did that. With her.

Was he really in love with you? Or was it just about sex? Had the 'waiting' been too much for him? Was your boundary a burden he couldn't bear? The questions swirled, each one a fresh stab of pain.

You felt a surge of anger, a burning rage that threatened to consume you. How could he do this to you? How could he betray your trust in such a callous, cruel way?

You didn't give Alec a chance to lie, to make excuses, to try to explain his actions. You didn't even want to hear what he had to say.

You blocked his number, blocked him on all social media platforms. You blocked Ada, too, but not before sending Alec the video Ada had sent you, along with a single, message: "We're over. Never contact me again."

You hurled your phone across the room, the sound of it crashing against the wall a fitting accompaniment to the destruction of your heart.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Two months. Two months of tear-stained pillows, of comfort food binges, of Tia repeatedly telling you that you deserved better. Two months of replaying that video in your head, the one Ada had so gleefully sent to multiple people, the one that showed Alec with his head thrown back in pleasure as Ada… you physically shuddered, pushing the image back into the dark recesses of your mind. Alec’s relentless attempts at contact had only intensified the pain.

Flowers wilting on your doorstep, gifts gathering dust in your hallway, voicemails from 25 different numbers choked with sobs you refused to acknowledge. Even the fixed windshield that had been broken for months felt like another violation. You wanted him gone, erased, but the memories lingered, almost haunting you.

Tonight, though, was different. The reflection staring back at you in the mirror was almost unrecognizable. Usually, Friday nights were reserved for sweatpants and bad reality TV, a ritual of wallowing since the breakup. But tonight, the sweatpants were banished. Tonight, you were reclaiming your territory.

You propped your phone up against a perfume bottle and hit the video call button. Tia's face popped up on the screen, her eyes widening in genuine surprise.

"Y/N! Damn, girl! Is that really you?" she exclaimed, a wide grin spreading across her face.

"You look absolutely… lethal. Alec is gonna crawl back on his knees when he sees this." you adorned the classic small black dress that fit your curves just right and spent hours on your makeup and hair.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "That's not the point, Tia. I'm not doing this for him. I'm doing this for me."

"Okay, okay, I believe you," Tia chuckled, but her eyes twinkled mischievously.

"Seriously though, you look incredible. I wish I could come, but Mrs. Davison decided tonight was the perfect time to audit the entire accounting system. Fun times."

"Don't worry about it," you said, trying to sound more carefree than you felt.

"I'll be fine. Besides, I don't want to wait around. I need to get out of this apartment before I start analyzing the paint drying on the wall."

"Alright, just promise me you'll be safe," Tia said, her tone turning serious. "And don't drink too much! Text me when you get home, okay?"

"Promise," you replied, blowing her a kiss through the screen. "Wish me luck."

"You don't need luck, honey," Tia said. "You've got this."

The city air hit you like a wall as you stepped out of your apartment building. The Friday night energy was contagious music thumping from passing cars, laughter spilling from restaurant patios, the collective anticipation of a weekend unleashed. You hailed a cab, the driver's eyes lingering a beat too long in the rearview mirror, and gave him the address of "The Inferno," the hottest club in the city.

Even before you reached the entrance, the bass was a physical presence, vibrating through your chest. The line snaked around the block, a writhing mass of bodies eager to escape into the intoxicating darkness within. As you walked past, already feeling the heat of the crowd, you heard a chorus of appreciative whistles and shouted compliments.

"Shhheeeshh!"

"Hey, beautiful! Can I buy you a drink?"

"Those legs go all the way up!" (lol)

You ignored them, a small smile playing on your lips. It was refreshing to feel… wanted instead of being shrouded in the grief of a relationship gone sour. Tonight, you were seen, and you reveled in it.

Inside, The Inferno lived up to its name. Red and orange lights pulsed across the dance floor, illuminating sweating bodies moving in rhythm to the relentless beat. The air was thick with the scent of perfume, sweat, and something vaguely fruity. You navigated your way through the crowd, a subtle sway in your hips, your (E/C) eyes scanning the scene.

The bartender, a burly man with a shaved head, noticed you immediately. "What can I get for you, gorgeous?" he asked, his voice surprisingly gentle.

"Vodka soda with lime, please," you replied, leaning against the bar.

As you sipped your drink, you let the music wash over you, feeling the tension slowly drain from your muscles. You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the rhythm guide you, and then you were moving.

Then, the DJ dropped a beat that resonated deep within your soul. It was your song, the one that always got you moving. You couldn't resist. Pushing through the crowd, you found a pocket of space on the dance floor.

Closing your eyes, you surrendered to the music. Your hips swayed, your arms moved fluidly, and your hair cascaded down your back as you lost yourself in the rhythm. You moved with a confidence that surprised even you, a sensuality radiating from every pore. You felt alive, vibrant, and utterly free.

And you definitely had an audience. Eyes followed your every move. Men paused their conversations to watch you, their gazes lingering on your curves. Women nudged their friends, whispering admiringly. You were the center of attention, and you soaked it all in.

After a few songs, a tall figure materialized beside you. He moved with a similar effortless grace, his eyes locked on yours. He was undeniably attractive, with broad shoulders, a strong jawline, and dark eyes that held a spark of intrigue. He leaned in close, his voice a low rumble against your ear.

"You're incredible," he said, his breath warm on your skin. "I haven't been able to take my eyes off you since you walked in."

You smiled, a genuine smile that reached your eyes. "Thank you," you replied, your voice slightly breathless.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked, extending a hand.

"Not at all," you said, taking his hand.

He led you further into the dance floor, and you moved together as if you'd been dancing together for years. His touch was light but firm, guiding you, mirroring your movements. You laughed, you flirted, you danced until you were both breathless.

His name was Damon, and he was charming and witty and undeniably hot. He bought you another drink, a sweet concoction that went down a little too easily. As the night wore on, you found yourself drawn to him. He listened intently as you talked, his eyes never leaving yours. He made you feel seen, understood, and desirable.

"You know," Damon said, his voice laced with a hint of invitation, "this place is getting a little crowded. Maybe we should continue this conversation somewhere a little more… private."

Your heart fluttered. You knew what he was suggesting, and a part of you, the part that craved connection and validation, was tempted to say yes. You were just about to answer when your gaze drifted over his shoulder.

Standing near the bar, nursing a drink, was Alec.

He looked different. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt and jeans, his red hair slightly disheveled. He looked… good. Painfully, achingly good. And he was staring directly at you, his green eyes boring holes at the back of Damon's skull. He reeked of envy.

The music seemed to fade, the lights dimmed, and the world narrowed down to just the two of you. Damons hand on your back felt like a brand. The scent of his cologne, which had been so appealing moments ago, now felt suffocating. Time seemed to stop. You were frozen, caught in the beam of his gaze.

All the confidence you had constructed tonight crumbled. The confident facade, the force to be reckoned with, all gone. You were just Y/N, standing on a crowded dance floor, caught in the crosshairs of a past you thought you’d left behind. And the worst part was, you didn't know what to do next.

Panic flared in your chest. What was he doing here? Had he been following you? Did he know what you were doing? All the confidence you had mustered, all the carefully constructed facade of indifference, crumbled in an instant.

Damon, sensing the shift in your demeanor, turned to follow your gaze. "Everything okay?" he asked, concern etched on his face.

You couldn't speak. Your throat was constricted, your words trapped. You could only stare at Alec, his image imprinted on your mind like a brand.

He started to walk towards you, his eyes never leaving yours. Each step he took closed the distance between you, threatening to shatter the fragile bubble you had created around yourself.

Damon placed a hand on your arm, his touch grounding you. "Hey," he said gently. "What's going on?"

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to break eye contact with Alec. You took a deep breath, trying to regain control.

"I... I need to go," you stammered, your voice barely a whisper.

"Go? But I thought we were having a good time," Damon said, his brow furrowed.

"We were," you said, managing a weak smile. "But something's come up. I'm sorry."

You turned and fled, pushing through the crowd, ignoring Damon's calls and Alec's relentless gaze. You needed to get out, to escape the suffocating pressure that was crushing you.

What had you been thinking? Trying to move on, trying to forget him, trying to pretend that the pain didn't still gnaw at you. It was all a charade. One look, one glimpse of Alec, and it all collapsed like a train wreck.

But Alec was faster. He moved quickly, weaving through the crowd, his eyes never leaving you. Just as you thought you could reach the exit, he caught up, his hand snaking around your waist, pulling you back against his hard body.

The world tilted. Your breath caught in your throat. The heat of his touch sent a jolt through you, a jolt of revulsion and unwelcome familiarity filled you.

"You didn't want to sleep with me, but I see you have every man here on their toes," he said, his voice a low growl, laced with a possessiveness that made your skin crawl. He was irritated, yes, but beneath the anger, you saw something else: undeniable arousal.

"Leave me alone, Alec. We are done," you spat, the words slurring slightly from the alcohol. You reached for his hands on your waist, trying to pry them off, but he only tightened his grip, pulling you towards a nearby wall.

He pinned you against the cool surface, his body pressing against yours, effectively trapping you. He towered over you, his height and strength intimidating. Was he taller then before?

"Baby, I've missed you," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "You didn't even give me a chance to apologize." he used that voice he knew you had trouble resisting that voice that once brought you warmth.

It brought back unwanted memories, before he cheated on you with Ada, before the damning video of his deceit, before the destruction of everything you had built together. You closed your eyes, and suddenly, you weren't in the packed, sweaty club anymore. You were… somewhere else.

Flashback: Four Years Ago

ComicCon buzzed around you, a chaotic tune of excited chatter, screeching cosplay armor, and the bleating announcements over the PA system. You clutched your worn copy of "The Martian Chronicles," feeling hopelessly out of place. This was your first convention, and the sheer scale of it was overwhelming. You were shy, introverted, and preferred the company of books to people.

Suddenly, a flash of red hair caught your eye. He was tall, lanky, and awkwardly adjusting a pair of oversized, homemade robot arms. He bumped into a display of limited-edition figurines, sending them tumbling to the ground.

“Oh, crap!” he exclaimed, his face flushing crimson.

You couldn’t help but giggle. He looked so flustered and adorable.

“Need a hand?” you offered, stepping forward.

He looked up, his green eyes widening in surprise. “Uh, yeah, please. I’m Alec, by the way. And apparently, I’m a menace to society.”

You smiled. “Y/N. And don’t worry, I’ve been there.”

Together, you carefully gathered the fallen figurines, sharing awkward jokes about clumsy cosplayers and the perils of navigating crowded conventions. He was funny, intelligent, and surprisingly easy to talk to. For the first time that day, you felt a sense of belonging.

Over the next few hours, you explored the convention together, geeking out over your shared love of science fiction, comic books, and obscure video games. He bought you a limited-edition print of your favorite artist, and you, in turn, helped him fix his malfunctioning robot arms.

As the day drew to a close, he walked you to the exit, a hesitant smile on his face.

“I had a really great time today, Y/N,” he said, shuffling his feet. “Maybe we could do this again sometime?”

“I’d like that,” you replied, your heart skipping a beat.

He leaned in, his green eyes sparkling with anticipation. His lips were soft, hesitant at first, then growing bolder. It was your first kiss, and it felt like something out of a movie.

That kiss was the beginning of everything. You spent the next two years building a life together, filled with laughter, shared dreams, and a love that felt unbreakable. He was your best friend, your confidant, your soulmate. He made you feel seen, understood, and cherished. He encouraged you to step outside of your comfort zone, to embrace your passions, and to believe in yourself. You were each other's home, where you felt safe and loved.

You celebrated birthdays with elaborate themed parties, spent countless nights binge-watching your favorite shows, and supported each other through the ups and downs of college life.

He was everything you had ever wanted in a partner, and you couldn't imagine your life without him.

Then, the video happened.

End of flashback

The audacity of his words stole your breath away. An apology? He thought a few mumbled words could erase the image seared into your brain?

Rage surged through you, a cleansing fire that burned away the fear and self-doubt. You pushed past him, shoving him hard enough to break his hold. "Go to hell, Alec," you snarled, and turned to flee.

You pushed past him and started to walk out of the club, but he followed you, his eyes fixed on the sway of your hips, the curve of your back. He'd never seen you dressed like this, so confident, so alluring. It was driving him crazy.

"Where are you going?" he asked, his voice urgent.

"Away from you!" you slurred, stumbling slightly, the alcohol finally catching up with you.

He reached out and scooped you up in his arms, lifting you off your feet. You struggled, kicking and protesting, but he held you tight, his grip unyielding.

"Put me down, Alec! I mean it!"

The club bystanders finding it amusing, assuming it as a couple spat. He ignored the gawking of onlookers and even some bold enough to catcall while you were in his arms. All the more reason to take you away from the prying, perverse eyes of other men. He carried you down the street to his Porsche where he unceremoniously sat you down and buckled you up.

You were still fighting him, but your movements were sluggish, the alcohol taking its toll. He slammed the door and stalked around to the driver's side, his gaze never leaving you.

“Alec, where are you taking me? You're scaring me!" you slurred, your voice laced with fear.

His jaw clenched, anger written across his pretty face as he gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. He doesn't answer, just starts the car and pulls away from the curb. You watch as the club disappears from view, replaced by the dark, empty streets of the city.

#tw.cheating #yandere cheater #reader insert #yandere #tw.yandere #tw.noncon #caught cheating #tw cheating #angst #x reader #fem reader #female reader

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