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slu7formen · 13 days

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MDNI. dark!luke castellan x fem!reader

you get captured by luke castellan, but not for the main purpose you think it’s for

warnings: dark!luke ( finally ), evil luke, capture (?, reader’s a nemesis child, wounds, teasing, flirty luke 😏, swearing, manipulation, seduction, bl00d sucking (?

₊˚⊹♡

The air felt chilly against the bare skin of your arms. Cold stone pressed against the back of your thighs as you sat huddled on the floor, the air thick with the unmistakable tang of salt. You were likely trapped somewhere near the sea, that much was clear.

A throbbing pain pulsed in your head, a relentless echo of the knockout that had sent you into a temporary darkness.

You strained your ears, the silence punctuated only by the rhythmic crash of waves against distant shores. And then, a slight noise. Fidgeting. Straining your eyes in the gloom, you made out the silhouette of a figure standing motionless on the other side of the cold, rusty, iron bars. The figure shifted, and a voice cut through the silence.

"Comfortable?"

Luke drawled. You didn't respond, a defiant silence swirling within you. You refused to give him the satisfaction of a response, darting your gaze away.

"No words?" he pressed, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice. "Hm” he says, nodding. Luke's amusement morphed into a predatory glint. He walked closer to the bars, his movements deliberate, calculated. He crouched down, his frame lowering to your level on the floor dangerously. "I suppose you want this back" he said, his voice a low rumble.

He reached into the shadows beside him, producing a glint of metal. He tossed something through the bars, the object landing with a clatter at your feet. It was your dagger.

You didn't reach for it, though the urge to snatch the weapon and fight your way out was strong. But again, what would it be useful for now? Cut his fingers off? Instead, you locked your gaze on a spot beyond him, your jaw clenched tight.

Luke chuckled, as if your stubbornness was something he was having fun with, but his words pierced; “Are you deaf or just dumb?”

"Fuck you" you spat, your voice surprisingly steady.

He raised an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Wow, you can talk" he said, his voice laced with mock surprise. "What? Not happy to see me?"

His smile twisted into a smirk, the amusement returning to his eyes, but this time it held a cruel edge. You glared at him, refusing to back down. You bit down hard on the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to remain silent.

With a sigh, as if he was tired of you already, he reached through the bars. His hand, calloused and strong, clamped around your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze. The touch was cold and unwelcome in your skin.

He studied your face silently for a moment, his eyes lingering on the split lip you'd acquired during your capture. "I see you know how to put up a fight" he remarked, his voice low and gravelly. His dark gaze scanned your features as he tilted your head sideways, lingering on a small cut marring your cheekbone.

He was obviously enjoying this. The powerful dynamic.

His thumb followed the trail of blood from your split lip, tracing it down your chin before slowly lifting. You watched, a mix of disgust and a strange fascination warring within you, as he brought his thumb to his own mouth. His tongue darted out, swiping away the crimson stain before retreating back into his mouth.

"Too bad you're not capable of forming a sentence" he commented dryly, his voice laced with a cruel humor that sent chills down your spine. "But you're pretty, I'll give you that."

You noticed the way his eyes snapped briefly to your lips, then back to your eyes. You clenched your jaw, a surge of defiance battling the fear that threatened to eat you. "What am I here for?" you blurted out, the need for answers overriding your cautious silence. "Why do you want me here?"

Luke seemed genuinely surprised for a moment. He leaned in closer, his elbows resting on his knees as he studied you with a newfound intensity. "Why do you think?" he stated blankly, his voice devoid of the earlier amusement.

"One of the Furies," you began, piecing together the fragments of your capture. "She said you'd be pleased to see me. That I was hard to catch. Why?" You pushed yourself closer to the bars, the need for understanding warring with the terror in your chest. "Why, out of all the demigods you could take, am I here?"

A slow chuckle escaped Luke's lips. He leaned back, his gaze fixed on the ceiling of the cave for a moment as if contemplating his answer. Finally, he sighed, a hint of frustration flickering in his eyes.

"Well, let's just say..." he trailed off, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "I've been looking for you for a while."

You scoffed. "Why?"

"Hm," he hummed, a sly smirk returning to his face. His hand reached through the bars once more, his finger working on placing a piece of your hair behind your ear, as if he was taking care of your appearance even in a moment so vulnerable like this.

"Wouldn't you like to know, pretty?" he murmured, his voice a low, seductive whisper. His eyes held you captive, a dark intensity that seemed to pierce through your very soul.

You jerked away from his touch, anger flaring within you. "Seriously, Luke," you spat. "I suppose you want me to join your army. But why? Why not take someone who's more powerful? More of a threat?"

A ghost of a smile played on Luke's lips. He reached out again sharply, surprising you, this time wrapping his hand around the back of your neck, holding you close to the bars.

"And who said you weren't powerful?" he countered, his voice surprisingly gentle despite his grip. "I know power when I see it, princess" he continued, his eyes gleaming with a strange intensity. "And you have more than you think you do."

You scoffed, a flicker of defiance igniting in your chest. "How are you so sure?" The question tumbled out, more of a challenge than a genuine inquiry.

His touch lingered on your neck, over your pulse. A single finger reached out, tilting your head back slightly for a deeper inspection.

"Because," he cooed, his voice surprisingly gentle for someone holding you captive. "I'm always right about these things."

His fingers, warm and calloused, began to trace a path up your cheekbone, eventually sinking into your hair. His touch sent conflicting signals through you – a primal fear warring with a strange sense of familiarity. The gentle massage of your scalp was a stark contrast to the harshness of your surroundings, a soothing melody amidst the chaos.

"You have your reasons, don't you?" he continued, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. "You and your siblings – cast aside, ignored by the camp that should have put you under its wing? They haven't given you the chance to prove yourself as the warrior I know you are."

His words, laced with a deceptive sweetness, wormed their way into your ears. A flicker of truth resonated within them. Years of being ostracized at Camp Half-Blood, of being overlooked despite your relentless training, boiled up inside you. Luke's words, though spoken by the enemy, held a twisted validity and truth.

"You're strong" he continued, his voice a seductive melody. "And skilled. I've seen you." He leaned in closer. "And here, with me, I´ll give you that value." His voice was like poison, sweet and tempting, whispering empty promises into your brain.

It was like a starving person being offered a delicious feast, and your loyalty, your very identity, felt like the price of admission.

"Besides," he added casually, leaning back slightly, "I'm sure you'd prefer to stay once I tell you your half-brother's here."

Luke's smirk widened as he noticed the shift in your gaze. "Ah, yes" he hummed, drawing out the word for dramatic effect. "Ethan. A great warrior, I must say."

His fingers continued their absentminded exploration, tracing patterns along your scalp. The touch, though unwelcome, held a strange sense of comfort – a twisted echo of the affection you craved and had never received. It was as if he knew exactly what you needed.

"He told me a lot about you," he murmured, his eyes lingering on your lips for a fleeting moment before returning to your defiant stare. "We could say," he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper, "He's a little eager to see you."

You shook your head, the initial wave of surprise receding. "So that's why you wanted me?" you asked, your voice regaining its strength. "Just another little soldier to play with?"

Luke's face hardened for a moment, the playful facade slipping. “Tsk” he clicked his tongue, "It´s not that" he countered, his voice firm. "You're useful," he stated flatly, his voice cold once more. "You're worthy. But you´re blind to your own skills."

He paused, his gaze intense. "I want to show you your value," he whispered. "I want to show you the power you truly possess."

His hand moved again, his fingers wrapping a loose strand of your hair around his finger, tugging gently. "You´ll only grow stronger with each day under me" he continued, his voice low and seductive.

A flicker of vulnerability crossed your face, a flicker Luke noticed with a triumphant smirk. He was right. You couldn't deny the allure of his offer. Years of neglect at Camp Half-Blood had left a gaping hole in your heart, a yearning for recognition that gnawed at you constantly. There, wherever it is that he was, Luke offered a twisted form of acceptance, a chance to finally prove yourself.

He knew he had you on the ropes. He pulled you closer to the bars, the space between you shrinking to a mere breath.

"You'll explode your potential here, princess" he murmured, his voice a seductive rasp. "You'll never have to feel ignored ever again." And then, he smiled. "Not even by me" he added, the arrogance in his voice grating on your nerves.

Confusion clouded your mind. "What?"

Luke chuckled, a dark, humorless sound. "Some birdy told me you had a thing for me," he teased, his eyes sparkling with a dangerous amusement. "Is it true?"

His amusement was evident, a cruel glint dancing in his dark eyes. Memories swirled in your mind – a careless remark made to a friend, a fleeting crush held in the innocence and care of camp back then. You wanted to disappear, to melt into the shadows and escape his mocking gaze.

“Maybe not as much as you having a thing for me, but…” his fingers slowly traveled over the column of your neck, “more like you thinking I’m…” he hummed to himself as he thought of the word, “hot?” he finished, his grin widening with tease.

You remained silent, suddenly too aware of your own presence, and wanting to die of cringing. “See, that’s another reason why I wanted you here” he continued, “I already said it. You’re pretty” And then began a slow, agonizing torture.

His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, “With those lips,” he begins, “that pretty face,” he murmurs, his hand still trailing a path over your features. “those eyes, that hair...” he whispers, his fingers slowly moving back into your hair, tracing the length of it. But his praises didn’t stop there-

"That neck" he breathed out, needily. He used his thumb to tilt your chin upwards, exposing the vulnerable column of your throat. You unconsciously let your eyes flutter shut.

He dared to trail his nails down your neck, a light scratch that sent goosebumps erupting across your skin. The touch, cruel and strangely arousing, left you breathless, stealing a little gasp from your lips.

He seemed to ignore you. "That perfect body" he stated, his voice low and husky, his eyes slowly traveling down your form. His gaze lingered on your curves, sending a flush of heat radiating from within you.

"You're like a little doll" he praised, as if he suddenly was possessed, under a spell. His words felt like a violation, a mockery of your strength and independence.

He let his index finger fall down your sternum, lingering provocatively at the dip between your collarbones, trailing a light path until it rested loosely against your chest.

"So beautiful" he rasped, his voice laced with desire. "So delicate."

He leaned just a bit closer. "Made to be touched. And I'm just the person to do it”

A strangled laugh escaped your lips, laced with a mix of disbelief and morbid amusement. "So what?" you scoffed, forcing your voice to remain steady despite the turmoil churning within you. "You want me as a warrior and-, yours?"

A sinister chuckle rumbled in his chest, sending shivers down your spine. "Now you're getting it, princess" he whispered, leaning closer so that his warm breath brushed against your cheek. "Be a soldier," he continued, each word a promise, a threat, a seduction rolled into one. "Let me train you. Let me unleash the potential you possess, and make them regret every time they overlooked you” he says.

He paused, his eyes locking onto yours with a fiery intensity. "Let me," he breathed, his voice thick with unspoken desire, "let me touch you, and make you mine."

You remained silent, confusion and strangeness growing inside you. Oh how the tables have turned.

"You're a weapon" he breathed, his voice a near caress. "Sharp as a blade. You're meant to be trained, to be held." His voice dropped to a whisper, sending chills down your spine. "Your skills, your strengths, your body” He paused, his eyes locking onto yours with a predatory intensity. "By me."

His words hung heavy in the air, the unspoken threat clear. His grip tightened on the bars, knuckles turning white.

"And I want to hear every little sound that comes out of that pretty mouth you have" he added, his voice returning to its teasing tone. The lustful glint in his eyes was undeniable, leaving no room for doubt about his intentions.

"So, what will it be, angel?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "Will you join the other side-, and become mine?"

He was playing you, of that you were certain. But a part of you, a part starved for validation, couldn't help but be swayed. The allure of power, the promise of respect, it all shimmered enticingly before you. And then there was him. The arrogant smirk, the possessiveness that both repelled and intrigued you.

The weight of the situation, the tangled mess of emotions, it was all too much to bear. You wanted it all. The glory of battle, the thrill of power, the acceptance you craved. And Luke, with his seductive promises and unsettling touch, offered it all on a silver platter.

“Yes?” Luke asked, your silence taking more time than necessary.

"Yes," you whispered, the word heavy with betrayal and a strange sense of liberation. "I'm on your side, Luke."

Silence descended, thick and heavy. Then, a slow, sinister smile crept across Luke's face.

"Good girl" he purred, his voice laced with a chilling satisfaction. "You know what's good for you-,

Welcome to the winning side”

winning side, lol

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moonstruckme · 9 months

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Omg Mae more Spence please!! I love him ❤️❤️ what about the team is out at the bar after a case and some guy is flirting with reader and not taking no for an answer and spencer steps in even tho it’s out of character for him bc he’s so so jealous

Thanks for requesting :)

cw: minor assault, fictional confirmation that most guys are douchebags

Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 926 words

“Right,” JJ says, “so Henry had actually been trying to say ‘fork,’ but of course everyone heard ‘fuck.’”

You double over, laughter bubbling to the surface even easier than usual with the help of the couple of drinks you’ve had. Garcia has far surpassed you, tears leaking from her eyes as Morgan all but holds her upright.

“And Will’s mom was…” JJ shakes her head with a smile, taking a sip of her drink. “Well, she was pretty upset. She accused Will of using that language around Henry, because she said he’s always had a potty mouth.”

“Will?” Garcia cackles. “Our sweet southern beaux? There’s no way.”

“I don’t know,” Emily muses. “I can see it. But he wouldn’t do it around Henry, for sure.”

“Actually,” Spencer pipes up, “studies show that many children pick up swear words regardless of their parents’ usage. Even if they don’t know what they mean, most have a vocabulary of thirty to forty offensive words by the time they start school.”

The humor drains from JJ’s face. “Like, kindergarten?”

“Sometimes earlier,” Spencer says, before seeming to realize JJ finds these facts more alarming than fascinating. “I’m sure Henry will have a higher vocabulary than that by the time he gets to that age, though.” he adds hastily. “Probably won’t even need to resort to swear words.” You grin at him, laying your head on his shoulder consolingly. You might not have done it if you were completely sober, but right now it feels like the most natural thing in the world, and Spencer only tenses for a second before relaxing.

It’s Garcia who notices first, stiffening and straightening in her seat, but Hotch is the one to ask, “Can we help you?”

“I think so,” drawls a voice from behind you. “You can give me your friend’s number.”

You turn, finding yourself too close to the man standing with his hand presumptuously on the back of your chair and grinning like your agreement is a done deal.

“Thanks,” you say, not unkindly, “but I’m not looking for anything.”

The man tilts his head as if to say come on. “But don’t you just love when you find it anyways?”

“I’m here with my friends.”

“And I’m not asking you to leave them.” He moves his hand to your shoulder, undeterred when you lean away. “Just give me your number, and next time you can be here with me.”

“She said she’s not interested.” Emily’s voice is hard. If this guy weren’t so unpleasant, you’d be impressed that he’s still here, with your whole team staring daggers at him.

The douchebag only smiles. “She didn’t say that, though. Did you, sweetheart?”

Your blood runs hot at his disregard of Emily. A man like this, you know—the assertive, overly masculine type—can be dangerous to piss off. But so can you. “I’m not," you say, finally letting the disgust you’ve been holding back seep into your voice. “Leave us alone.”

Anger sparks in the man’s eyes, just like you knew it would. You don’t expect your gaze looks much different. His grip on your shoulder tightens as he gets in your face, close enough for you to smell the alcohol on his breath. “I know you don’t mean that.”

You tense, ready to shake him off you and drag him back to whatever musty corner of the bar he’d come from, but Spencer beats you to it.

“Okay, that’s enough,” he says, prying the fingers from your shoulder. You stand, a protective instinct moving you in front of Spencer, but he pushes past you, badge outheld. “FBI. Do you really wanna pursue this? Because if so, I’ll have no problem cuffing you and explaining it to the local police.”

The guy makes like he’s going to dart for you again, but Spencer steps in his way, pushing him back with a hand on his shoulder. His voice is quiet but clear. “Do not touch her.”

“Fuck off,” the guy shakes Spencer’s hand off, stalking away. He’s drunker than you thought, wobbling his way back to the bar.

“Spence,” you say, taking his hand as though mere contact with the man’s shoulder could hurt it. “You didn’t have to do that, I could have handled it.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” he replies, pulling back the collar of your shirt distractedly. His fingers skim over tender skin, and you look down to find your shoulder is red where the man had gripped it. It’ll probably be a bruise tomorrow. Spencer’s eyes darken. “I can still arrest him. That’s assault.”

“It’s fine.” You move your shirt back into place, pulling him back to your seats. “I’m fine, really. Sorry about the scene, guys.”

“You’ve got nothing to apologize for,” Hotch says severely, still eyeing the man from across the room.

Morgan lets out a low whistle, relaxing back into his seat. “Way to go, wonder boy. Got a little jealous there, did we?”

Spencer lets out a little laugh, though it sounds more strained than usual. “I just did what all of us wanted to do.”

“Agreed,” Emily says gruffly, toasting with her beer. “I thought I was going to have to go all the way around the table to kick that guy’s ass.”

You laugh. “I appreciate the support, but I can take care of myself, you know.” You adjust your collar self-consciously, and as soon as you drop your hand back to your lap, Spencer’s taking it in his under the table.

“Yeah,” he says casually, thumb stroking soothingly at your wrist. “We know.”

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid scenario #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fandom

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biolumien · 23 days

Text

rooftop smoke

soshiro hoshina x gn!reader mentions of smoking wordcount: 1270

you weren’t drafted into the kaiju war effort because you were particularly strong or even because you were particularly good with handling a gun or a sword.

you’re a ballistics expert.

you’ve helped to perfect the rounds that izumo tech makes for guns, helped perfect missiles in the name of eradicating kaiju. you were hand-picked for the third division by mina ashiro herself, her thirst for revenge against kaiju rivaling your own.

you’d met soshiro hoshina through mina, too.

you remember him, at first. almost twitchy, a fresh-faced stranger to the third division, desperate to prove himself. the two of you had gotten along quite well—enough to share a strained kiss or two after a tough battle or two, initially—but the two of you had never talked about it for any longer than a faint touch of the lips, and you’d tasted something floral and fruity on his tongue, like he’d indulged in some kind of candy before he left to fight.

but you’d never talked about it at all beyond a quick well-wishing for his safety before he holstered the katanas at the back of his suit, and turned away to meet his destiny.

in the days after the fungal honju and yoju attack, you find yourself hanging out with hoshina—there’s an unspoken agreement, here—hoshina could have easily lost his life to kaiju no.8, which was still at large.

“fancy a smoke?” hoshina holds out the pack of cigarettes to you—it’s the kind you like specifically—a little too sweet for most people, with an underlying cloy of tar that gets most people.

“mm. when don’t i?” you say, taking the pack from him. “thought you didn’t. smoke, i mean. doesn’t it ruin your whole…” as you pull a cigarette from the pack, you gesture at him. “your whole image?”

he snickers, a peek of a fang showing at the corner of his mouth.

“i bought them for you,” he says. “lend me your ear for a moment, yeah?”

so that’s how you wind up on the rooftop with hoshina.

he’s staring daggers at the horizon, his jacket ever-so-slightly unzipped to reveal the hints of his collarbones. you definitely don’t stare, not even a little.

tokyo’s skyline is peaceful. quiet. there is still reconstruction to do after the previous honju attacks–but it’s quiet for now, with no kaiju in sight.

you flick open your lighter, snapping it several times to produce a small and unsteady flame. there’s a breeze, strong enough that the flame almost goes out, and hoshina leans forward to cup the flame in his palm, his crimson eyes peeking out for a moment.

“what’s with the intense expression?” you drawl, taking a long drag of your cigarette, letting a puff of smoke escape your lips. “mighty scary there, hoshina.”

hoshina’s usually all smiles—the cold kind that never reach his eyes, and this one is no different. he leans on his cheek, stares at you. he smirks.

“thinking about last night,” he says, the smile on his lips twisting the tone of his words. “might’ve said a few things here and there, y’know. to the newbies.”

you stare for a moment.

the newbies had gotten closer than you’d expected them to—you’d hardly gotten to know your fellow soldiers when you were inducted into the force, quite frankly—your skillset as a ballistics engineer kept you far and away from the majority of any grueling training, of seeing beloved companions being taken away in body bags.

“ah, i get it. you told the newbies they weren’t allowed to fraternize. and now you’re getting cold feet about all of this?” you guess, sharp wit as always. hoshina snorts, pushing back from the railing of the rooftop before stepping closer to you.

his bangs fall in front of his eyes, and in faint moonlight, you can see the faintest blemishes of his skin, where he might have scratched at his face too hard.

“you don’t want this?” hoshina’s voice is quiet.

“i’ve always been honest about what i want, soshiro,” you say. “just wondering if you know what you want.”

“what i want,” hoshina says. he sounds almost bitter as he looks away. “i want to be useful.” the pale column of his neck is something indeed.

“you’re vice captain of the third division,” you say. “and mina’s yet to reach her full potential. she’ll be climbing up there in the ranks, with you by her side.”

“using an obsolete method of kaiju slaying that hasn’t been useful for a century,” hoshina says, his placid demeanor belying bitter frustration underneath. he sighs for a moment. “i’m only useful in the sense that mina might still want something from me. without that, am i truly of use to anyone? am i any better than some toy you pick up for a little while, have your fun with, and then throw away?”

you take another drag of your cigarette, letting the smoke fill your lungs for a moment before you exhale upwards, careful not to get smoke in his face.

hoshina laughs.

“you’re useful to me,” you say. “a cliche line, i know. no romance behind it.”

hoshina watches you, the peek of crimson eyes turning almost bloodred in the faint light.

“useful,” he repeats. “to you.”

“got a problem with it, pretty boy?” you rasp, staring up at him.

his face is boyish when he leans in close, curious as his hand touches your face.

“mm. no,” hoshina says. “pretty boy?” he cocks his head. his thumb touches at your lower lip, right at the corner of your mouth where your cigarette hangs from your lip.

“that’s you,” you say. you lean into his touch subconsciously, chasing the callused touch of a palm that has held up the weight of the world. “if you want to be of use to someone, you can keep being of use to me. by promising you’ll come back alive, to me.”

you’re not the confessing type. you’re not. you’ve never talked about your feelings for soshiro hoshina besides admitting that you’ve had them once to yourself during a smoke break, when you pulled your cigarette from your lips and wished that hoshina was there to close the gap, to kiss you again like he meant it, instead of in a rushed, half-sloppy affair.

hoshina’s eyes consider yours for a moment–searching your gaze for something. his thumb on your bottom lip shifts up, and touches the corner of your mouth. he plucks the cigarette from your lips, and you stare up at him, embarrassingly entranced.

“you’d like that,” hoshina whispers, and then he takes a drag of the cigarette. the tip of the cigarette glows a brilliant orange-yellow, and you wonder if hoshina will make fun of you for staring, before he exhales, half-coughing. “ha. what i get for trying to look cool in front of you, huh?”

his smile is all fangs, barely reaching the cold crimson of his eyes.

you stare at his lips shamelessly, at the way they upturn.

“aren’t you going to kiss me?” hoshina asks.

“huh?”

you blink at him.

“i’ve decided what i want,” hoshina murmurs. “and all you have to do is take it.”

so you do. you pull him forward by the collar of his plain shirt, poking out from his jacket, and he falls against you, presses his lips to yours in a move that might be described as reverent. he tastes faintly of your sweet cigarettes, and you kiss him and kiss him until you hope you can plunge your hands into his chest, and rewrite his core so that he might live and breathe for you.

#kaiju no 8 #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #kaiju no 8 x reader #x reader #kn8 x reader #how it be

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pin-k-ink · 1 year

Text

Fushiguro Megumi x Reader

CW: violence(?), sexual tension, friends to lovers, implied public sex, dry humping, Megumi has perverted thoughts about his partner aka reader

a/n: i’m totally out of ideas so send me thirsts

With the cursed object in his possession, Megumi walked out of the tunnel into the intersection where his partner lay sprawled on the grimy floor.

Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, the withered and mutilated corpse of the curse she was keeping at bay while he grabbed the object lay a few feet away from her.

He praised her internally. Knowing her and her laziness when it came to their missions, that one must’ve taken a lot out of her.

In his mind, he vividly recalled her voice telling him to go through the tunnel to get the object while she dealt with the massive curse that blocked his way.

As he went through, he caught sight of her dropping her stance, abandoning her curse technique to grab the small dagger she kept on her person.

His heart jumped into his throat when he saw her charging at the huge monster, clawing it’s eye out with her dagger before he lost sight of her.

Even though he’d rather die than admit he admired her for her dedication to this mission, he silently wondered why it felt as if something was different between them.

Their usually bickering abandoned, instead, their was some sort of tension between the two of them.

His thoughts were cut off when he felt her eyes on him. Those big doe eyes that’d usually be looking at him from afar after she successfully completes yet another malicious prank on him.

“You have it?” Her voice, quiet and airy, as she finally managed to calm her breathing. He flashed her the object before circling her sweaty form to inspect her for any injuries.

“Your panties are showing.” Her skirt was hiked up, not that much, but far enough for him to catch a glimpse of the lacy garment. He felt the blood rush to his cheeks. Curse her for making him feel this way despite being the very bane of his existence.

“I picked it out just for you. Do you like it?” She muttered with a deadpan look. He knew she was just teasing him, which is why he was confused when his heart skipped a beat. He wondered if her bra matched.

“Shut up”. He knelt down and adjusted her skirt, sitting down beside her. He huffed, taking a deep breath to avert his mind from his friends’? no, his partners undergarments.

“Don’t act like you’re the one who’s tired when I did all the work?” He could practically see the eye roll that would’ve accompanied her jibe at him.

He hummed. “If I recall, I was the one who diverted its attention away from you when you got hit by it first.”

She clicked her teeth, turning away from him. A lock of her hair fell across her face as he did. Almost on instinct, he reached out and brushed her hair aside and tucked it behind her ear.

She turned around slowly, her mouth slightly opened in surprise. He couldn’t blame her, he surprised himself as well. Her finger brushed his and she licked her lips before she opened her mouth to say something.

“Yo! Both of you still alive?” The annoying voice of their teacher drawled, echoing and bouncing off the walls of the underground tunnel.

Megumi and his partner immediately groaned, turning away as Gojo busied himself by taking pictures of his beat up students.

“Come on, let’s go. I wanna enjoy all these pastries I bought.” The girl huffed before she pulled herself up, wobbling slightly before walking off.

Megumi stood back for a moment, watching as she walked up to her teacher and shamelessly dug her hands into the paper bag to dig out something to eat.

He shook his head as he stood up and walked past them, ignoring Gojo’s cries as he tried to rip the bag away from his greedy student.

•

Megumi walked into the public toilet, his partner’s belongings in hand. He watched as the girl washed her face, getting rid of all the grime and sweat.

The both of them wordlessly minding their own business. Megumi silently passed her everything one by one. He already knew where she kept everything, after all, this has become tradition for them.

Megumi noted that she looked after her appearance, keeping everything perfect to a fault.

The first time she had asked him to pass her the small compact powder, he was mildly confused - and annoyed - as he dug through her bag.

But as time passed, he’d memorized her routine, knowing what to pass to her next. It was like one of those scenes in movies where the doctor asks the assistant to pass them different surgical instruments.

This time however, Megumi noted that there was something else that was amiss, aside from her makeup. “Your socks are ruined.”

The girl peered down at her thigh highs, and indeed, they were covered in holes, barely held together. Megumi wondered how she planned to fix it before she went out.

“Check my bag, I think I’ve a spare.”

Ah, of course she’d be prepared. Megumi dug through the bag, searching for her thigh highs. He finally found them hidden away in one of the small side pockets. He fished them out of pass them to her.

As he lifted his gaze, he found the girl perched on top of the counter, her bare leg outstretched towards him.

His eye twitched. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The girl merely smiled and leaned back on her palms. Her leg brushed against his calf, riding up his thigh. “I’ll give you a treat if you do this for me.”

Megumi sighed. It was dangerous the amount of control this girl had over him. He gripped her ankle, keeping her foot on his thigh as he kneeled down to hike it up her leg.

He noted how soft it looked despite all the dangerous missions she goes to. Her skin looked untouched, almost like it was made from porcelain.

Megumi begrudgingly thought about what it’d feel like to kiss them. To have them wrapped around his waist as he-

He shook his head as he felt his blood rush downwards. He finished putting them on her, snapping the elastic edge against her skin as he finished.

She slapped his shoulder lightly as she flinched.

He looked up at her. “Your lipstick is smudged too.” Her cheeks flushed and Megumi fought the urge to pull them.

She tried to turn around to face the mirror. What she didn’t expect was for Megumi to grip her jaw in his hand before she could, turning her face towards him.

He brushed his thumb against the corner of her lips, swiping away until it looked perfect. Even though he was finished, his hand continued to stay on her jaw, his thumb resting on her plump bottom lip.

He noted how her lips looked extra kissable with this color. He leaned down until their noses nudged against each other, until their breaths mingled. His heart rate picked up as he locked eyes with her.

“I did what you wanted, where’s my treat?” He was standing between her legs now. He shuddered in delight as her thick thighs wrapped around his waist and nudged him forward until her core pressed against his.

She gripped the front of his uniform, her other hand snaking up his back to grip his nape. “Come and get it.”

Her cupids bow brushed against his and he took that as his cue to smash his lips against hers. She moaned against him, her legs tightening as she pulled him impossibly closer.

His tongue plunged between her lips, moaning at the taste of her. Her fingers carded through his hair, pulling at the strands until he groaned into her mouth.

Her teeth captured his bottom lip, pulling it until they parted for air. Megumi’s hands found refuge on her waist, before they moved to her ass, squeezing her flesh until she arched against him.

Her skirt hiked up enough for him to see the damp spot on her dark panties. She ground her hips against him, her nails dragging themselves up and down his nape as she tried to lure him down for another kiss.

He chuckled, pecking her lips before picking her up and taking them both inside the cubicle.

“Be patient.” He mumbled against her neck as he peppered kisses against her flushed skin.

As the both of them finally indulged in themselves to resolve their unprecedented sexual tension, they both forgot that their poor, unsuspecting teacher was right outside waiting for his precious students to join him.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi #megumi x reader #Megumi x reader smut #Megumi smut #jjk smut #jujutsu Kaisen smut #Fushiguro smut #Fushiguro x reader smut #Fushiguro Megumi x reader #Fushiguro Megumi x reader smut

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utterlyotterlyx · 2 months

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The Fox and The Fawn

High Lord Eris x Rhys!Sister!Reader x Azriel

Part Four

Summary - The consequences of your defection to the Autumn Court become clear as you realise how deeply rooted the betrayal of your family lies within you.

Warnings - angst, self-doubt, trauma, depression, fluff

Part One Part Two Part Three

Nesta's toes curled uncomfortably.

Rhys was pacing before her and Lucien who was sunken into the seat beside her, Azriel and Cassian stood as still as stone to the side of Rhys' desk as he walked the length of the room behind it. Anger burned in his eyes, the violet orbs that Feyre loved so much now blazing with infantile fury at what he had lost.

The power pulsating around the High Lord was nothing compared to yours, but it was still uncomfortable to swim in; it was migraine-inducing, it made her eyes feel heavy and limbs weak, and she knew the power within him was teetering on the edge of unleashing.

Rhys, as calm as he was portraying, lay his palms flat against the table surface, staring Nesta and Lucien down, but neither of them relented, neither of them would dare falter in front of him, "Tell me where my sister is," his lips curled into a smile, a sadistic thing of psychotic beauty, his eyes were demanding, and Nesta stole a glance to Lucien whose fingers were ripping at the leather arms of the chair.

You had disappeared from Helion's birthday gathering, your scent floating away in the breeze, and you hadn't told a soul of where you were going. Rhys had assumed you were ashamed of yourself and had returned to Velaris, that he would be able to deal with you later. But when Eris' note had landed in Lucien's lap that evening, he had never felt such simmering relief.

There was history between Rhys and Lucien, they weren't exactly the best of friends, but they weren't enemies, Lucien dealt with him for Elain and Rhys delt with him for Feyre, but if he had it his way Lucien would cease to exist.

"Y/N," Lucien bit, to remind them that you were y/n, your own person, and not just known to be his sister and executioner, "Has denounced her place in the Night Court, she is residing elsewhere."

Azriel scoffed, his finger trailing along the sharp edge of Truthteller, "She can't denounce her place so easily."

"Well she has," Nesta smirked, her stare barrelling into Azriel whose pupils flared in response, "I suppose this is what happens when you raise a female to be nothing more than your dirty little secret."

Rhys bristled, "I would watch how you speak if I were you, Nesta."

Rolling her neck, Nesta drawled, "I think you forget how little I care for your opinions, Rhysand," Lucien hummed low in agreement, legs lax and open against the confinements of his seat, "It seems as though y/n finally realised what you've done all these years."

"And what's that?" Rhys challenged.

Nesta could have smacked that smirk from his lips, but she restrained herself from doing so. Unfortunate.

"Lie," Rhys' eyes darkened, "All you've done is lie to her. You had never hidden her to protect her from what happened to your mother and sister, you used it as an excuse so that no one would find out just how powerful she is. You hid her so that she would never realise her full potential, you never trained her abilities and yet her power still drowns you, and instead of caring for her and helping her, you locked her away in this city and silently forbade her to ever leave."

Lady Death rose to her feet and approached the desk, paying little mind to the daggers shooting from Cassian's eyes. Fuck the male who would let their master manhandle their precious mate. Nesta mirrored the High Lord, palms flat across the table and leaning in so that she could feel his breath on her cheeks, "You have raised y/n to be your executioner, you have spread this vile word of her ferocity and violence so that no one would ever wish to be around her. You created the image of a bloodthirsty monster that lays dormant in the Night Court until her master calls upon her, and y/n has realised just how much you have betrayed her. All she knows is what you reared her to be, not what she actually is or can be."

Lucien shuffled in his seat, opening his mouth and voicing, "You stole away her chance to choose her own path by manipulating her into believing that her place in the world was to be nothing but the Feared Princess of Velaris," he leaned forward in his seat, smirking at the way Cassian took a step forward, "The mere mention of her name strikes fear into the souls of every traveller, they sing songs around fires of her, she is the monster in the nightmares and the one dying men wish they never meet on the other side, and she has been allowed to be depicted like that because you wished it."

It was masterful really, how Rhys had manipulated everyone to believe that you were an awful abomination of a thing when in reality all you wanted to do was see the world and curl up with a good book. You hadn't experienced anything good or soul-awakening, Amarantha had stripped your essence from you the moment she carved your wings from your body, and that had been the moment that Rhys had wrapped his talons around your mind and bent you to his will.

"Tell me where she is."

Nesta cocked her head to the side as she scrutinised his face with horror laced in her orbs, after all they had said all he cared about was knowing where you were, he had no interest in acknowledging or accepting anything he had done. She looked to Cassian, "Do you not understand how disgusting this is? She grew up with you, you said she was like a sister to you that you loved her as much as him," Nesta pointed at Rhys who pulled back from the desk, "How could you stand by and allow this?"

"Y/N's power poses a threat to us all, I did what was necessary to ensure our safety."

"If that's truly what you think then you are no mate of mine," she spat and his eyes rounded as his forehead creased, his façade was cracking. Nesta turned her attention to Azriel, "You. You're supposed to be her best friend, she loves you more than anything, there's nothing she wouldn't do for you, Az."

Azriel shrugged, "My duty is to the Night Court."

"You're a pig," she took in the sight of Rhys who had taken a step or so backward and had found a place to lean against the fireplace, her anger bubbled and there was little she could do to stop the truth from stabbing him in his soul, "Y/N is in the Autumn Court. The one place you physically can't go, where none of you can and I'm so glad she got out of this shitshow of a city because she would have died if she had been locked away for another moment longer being treated like nothing and no one."

"Watch it."

Nesta chuckled lowly, "Or what, Rhys? You'll kick me out of the Night Court? It's a good thing that I'm already leaving."

What have I done?

The thought was on repeat in your mind, an overlapping record jolting with the same phrase.

A pit had opened inside of you, a gnarly black hole full of anger and hatred that had dampened the moment Eris had wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a flurry of light, and you could distinctly see the world as you knew it warp before your eyes.

The dress you had worn was draped over a standing mirror, the skirt of it brushing against the glass in the breeze swelling through the room Eris had led you to that night. Flowing water from a babbling brook sounded from beyond the window, harmonising with sweet birdsong and the rustling of autumn leaves. Sunlight speckled through the room and streaked across the thick brown carpet that made you feel like you were walking on clouds.

For a moment, you stopped thinking of how your life had momentously changed in the space of one decision. It was a peace you welcomed before the reality of it came crashing down on you.

Rhys would be furious once he found out that you had denounced your home court and title, so furious that he may not allow you back which wasn't exactly a bad thing. But nothing would made that vein in his forehead pop more than when he realised where you had gone. To Autumn. With Eris.

Your heart raced at the thought of it, your hands went clammy and damp, and you couldn't stop thinking about what exactly would happen to Nesta and Lucien because of your reckless decision.

You are the author of your own story.

A soft knock rattled on the door, pulling your mind back into the present. Lifting yourself from the larger-than-life bed, you padded over to the door, knowing that Eris would never just let himself into the safe space he had gifted to you.

Eris stood on the other side, the sunlight brushing over his face and turning his eyes into molten shimmer bronze, he looked handsome, dressed in tight taupe pants that were tucked into his riding boots, a cream shirt loosely poked into the waistband.

His gaze travelled down your figure that was half-hidden behind the door, specifically at the shirt he had leant you that barely fell to your mid-thigh which left the rest of your leg exposed to him. Your hair was messy from the night full of tossing and turning, but he thought you looked radiant, that it made you look rather adorable actually.

"Good morning," he told you softly once he was done examining you, there was a box in his arms along with a few folded pieces of fabric, "I went out this morning and got these for you," he offered, "You don't have any clothes here so I thought these would do for now until I could take you into town."

Taking the box and tower of clothes from his arms, you smiled, "Thank you," you suddenly felt naked in front of him, the breeze drifting inward and up your legs reminding you of that fact.

If he knew of your realisation he didn't let on, "Our fashion isn't like that of your former court, but I'm sure you'll look incredible in it regardless," his eyes sparkled and your racing heart began to relent, "I'll be in the gardens when you're ready, Fawn."

Eris left you after that, he left you with the lingering speckles of his scent, the same scent that you had drifted to sleep bathed in thanks to the large shirt he had given you. The arms of the shirt drooped on you and you knew that it was due to his large arms perfectly fitting in the fabric.

The clothes were lovely, a mixture of dresses in a variety of styles and hues that you knew would mould against your skin perfectly, tailored shirts and tight leather pants, feminine waistcoats of forest green and red wine with golden embellishments, and undergarments that you knew Eris wouldn’t dare pick himself. Even the thought made heat rise to your cheeks.

Deciding to embrace your defection, one that Eris had been careful not to voice directly, you dressed yourself in a pair of high waisted black pants and a fitted artic blue blouse. It was so unlike anything you had ever worn, but it was beautiful in its own way. Turning to the box, you lifted the lid and gasped at the oyster coloured riding boots that must have cost a small fortune considering the intricate stitching. They weren’t just regular riding boots, no, when you slid them up your calves and found yourself adjusting them to your thighs, you knew they were a statement piece if you’d ever seen one.

Pulling your hair back into a low and messy bun, you found your reflection and grinned.

Eris was right, you did look incredible, like Velaris had been dispelled from you long ago and was nothing but a horrible dream.

Fir Manor was a special place, you could see why Eris chose to live there over the Forest House. It was light and bright and full of warmth from the whispering sun, ornate furniture was littered everywhere, the library was the personification of comfort and grace, exposed wooden beams loomed overhead and the windows were large and clear enough that you could see to the edge of the estate and the woodland beyond.

Your sun-starved skin cried in relief as you stepped outside, drinking in every vitamin offered to it, a low whistle caught your ear and you found Eris stood before a pair of large but stunning stallions, his hounds chasing one another and running between their legs which didn’t phase them at all.

“You look,” he trailed off as he approached, a jacket now completing his outfit and fingers raking through his red hair.

��Like Autumn threw up on me?”

“Something like that,” you huffed out a laugh and looked to the beasts, “I thought you’d like to explore the woodland today, get you out of the manor for a few hours?”

It was an offer than you wanted to say yes to, but at the same time couldn’t, ashamed of your oncoming admittance, “I would love to. It’s just,” you faltered, your eyes moved from Eris to the towering midnight black stallion that had craned its neck to look to you inquisitively.

Eris caught on, “You don’t know how,” a solemn finish to the sentence you were trying to voice, his heart clenched slightly at the defeat in your eyes, yet another thing that had been taken from you, “Well I can teach you,” he spoke, “Today you can ride with me, learn the basics, and you’ll be on your own stallion in no time.”

The High Lord of Autumn stood beside you, elbow to elbow, and even through the fabric of your clothes, you could feel his fire prickling across your skin and work its way into the woven fibres of your soul. He stood there seemingly unknowing of it, and when he looked down on you, waiting for your answer, all you could do was nod.

The stallion, Axos, shuddered under your touch as your fingers drifted over his side and around the curve of his saddle. Hands curled around your hips and you almost fell backward at the touch, Eris was behind you, his chest moving against your back and you glanced backward at him, "Don't get too excited," he smirked, and you wished you could have seen the muscles in his arms rippling as he lifted you up, instructing you to swing your leg over before he settled in behind you with ease.

The reigns became wrapped between his fingers, his breath was hot against your neck and Axos was moving onward after a curt click from Eris' mouth, his hounds trotting happily alongside you, "You have to roll your hips with each step he takes," his voice was gruff in your ear, low enough to send shivers flowing down your spine, "Like this," he unwound one of his hands from the reigns and placed it on your hip, gently moving it back and forth to the steps of Axos beneath as the stallion carried you both into the woodland, through the arched hanging branches and grasslands.

Awareness washed over you at how close Eris truly was, you were nestled at the centre of his open legs, his thighs encased your own, his entire chest shrouded you, and a shadow fell over you from the sheer size of him. He was pressed up to your back to the point you could feel his heart beating through his shirt, a thing you had become extremely aware of but didn't dare shudder away from in fear of him pulling away from you.

The landscape was picturesque, mounds of fresh earth, dainty flowers and fallen branches, leaves of orange, brown, and red, and water flowing through the small brooks, trying to find their way to the river. Even the sun felt surreal, it streaked through any respite of bark that it could, its golden glow spreading and infecting the land. Soft scampering of tiny paws ran through the trees, squirrels jumped from branch to branch, following you and paying no attention to the swarm of hounds keeping an eye on them.

It astounded you how a place so beautiful even existed.

It scared you how place so beautiful could turn into the most vicious of battlegrounds.

"Are you afraid, of Rhys coming here?"

Eris tensed behind you, his hand still lingering on your side, "We don't have to talk about this, y/n."

"I know," you told him, smiling softly as you watched a small bunny poke its head above its burrow, "I just know him, and I don't want to put you or your court in danger."

"I'm not afraid of him, and he will never step foot in my court. I won't allow it," he was stoic, and you knew he was telling the truth, Eris had faced worse than Rhys, he had endured worse.

"I can go, I don't have to be here, Eris."

Axos stopped moving, your brows itched together in a frown and you turned to capture Eris' gaze which was riddled with confusion, "I would never dream to keep you from doing whatever it is you wish to you, even if you wish to leave, I would not stop you. But I would like you to stay, and I think you would like to stay too."

Eris' amber pools softened and he smiled sadly at you, knowing that you didn't wish to leave but wanted to protect him and his home from whatever it was that Rhys could inflict upon it, "You will always have a place here, y/n. No one can take that from you, whatever you wish for is yours."

"Who knew that the fox could be so sweet?"

Eris tilted his head back and laughed, a pure thing of serenity, he moved his hand to your thigh and squeezed it gently before grabbing at the reigns once more, "Keep going, Fawn. You're getting warmer."

The hours ticked by, idly chatter filled the air, he told you the names of his hounds, you had unmounted Axos and delved further into the woodland, touching every tree that you could as if you wouldn't see them again all whilst Eris trailed you with a distant grin on his lips. Sunlight began to wane into its mid-afternoon position, the warmth replaced with bristle breezes and the birdsong drowned out by the emerging chirps of crickets.

Golden hour.

A moment you had heard of, when the sun reached its most comfortable resting place before it beckoned the moon to start its ascent, where the world was coated in the golden autumn glow that consumed the land. You had heard the stories of its beauty, but nothing could prepare you for it as you watched the light shift to a different angle and a shimmer cling to everything that moved. The waters glistening, sparkling and reflecting against the bodies of the trees, and that sparkle bounced all over the clearing where you stood.

"It's beautiful," your voice was a whisper but your eyes floated about the clearing, your body turned where you stood and you drank it in.

"It is," Eris confirmed from where he stood, dry branches creaked under his feet as he approached, "It's something that I take for granted, when you see it every day you forget how special it is."

"I wish that you could see it again for the first time."

A weight shifted at your feet and you peered down to see one of Eris' hounds, Willow, perched atop your toes, looking up at you with a lopsided grin as she panted. Reaching down, you scratched the spot beneath her shin and between her ears, your heart swelling as her tail swatted at the floor and her eyes screwed closed as she accepted your touch, "She likes you."

Willow was an elegant beast, long brown lashes, deep brown eyes, shining fur of tan and black, and shaggy ears that fell down the sides of her face, "I like her too."

Eris' eyes glowed, with what you couldn't quite tell, "We should head back to the manor, you must be starving."

When you thought of it you were hungry, you didn't remember the last time you ate, perhaps the morning of your departure but you couldn't be sure of it. The ride back to the manor felt too short, you were relishing in his company far too much, so much so that you wished that the day wouldn't end.

Fir Manor approached in the forefront of your vision and you sighed, ready to be in more relaxing clothes, but also ready to eat something. You could only imagine how incredible the food would be if even the landscape alone brought you happiness. Eris dismounted first and held his hands up to you, not even straining as they gripped your waist and placed you back on the ground delicately.

Eris' finger reached to tuck a strand of your hair behind your pointed ear, one that must have fell loose from the effortless bun you had thrown your hair into that morning. That same finger lingered, ghosting over the curve of your jaw and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. His eyes were on you, waving themselves over your face.

You could have stayed there for much longer, in his arms with his fingers dusting over your skin. It seemed that others were too impatient to allow the moment to continue as the door to the manor swung open and you turned your head to see Nesta and Lucien stood on the porch with Elain in the doorway.

"Nes?" Eris' grip on your waist tightened slightly but relented as you moved away, pacing up the pathway and flinging yourself into her open arms which wrapped around you tightly, "What are you doing here?"

"Our place is with you," she muttered and you pulled away, looking between her, Lucien and Elain as Eris fell to your side.

"What about Cassian?"

Nesta shuddered, she took a moment to glance at Eris and the apprehension he wore as he inched closer to you, "I can't be mated to someone who could allow something like this to happen."

"I'm so sorry, Nes," guilt pooled within you and she could see that as clear as daybreak, she took a step closer to you, taking your head in her hands and stroking your cheeks with her thumbs.

"Don't be," she shushed, "I chose you. I will always choose you."

Lucien placed a hand on your shoulder and offered more detail, "Rhys is furious, but he knows that he can't get to you here," he glanced to his brother and his lips tilted downward, "He's asked for you, for a meeting at the boarder."

The High Lord growled under his breath and took a protective step to you, it was clear that Rhys was going to attempt to barter for your return, that he was going to use his manipulation tactics to steal you back, "Fine," your blood ran cold and Nesta's fingers gripped at your wrists as Eris rounded your figure to stand beside her, "You're not going anywhere, alright? It's in our best interests to see what he has to say. I'll never let him take you," Eris turned his head to peer over his shoulder at his younger brother and Elain who had drifted from the doorway to entwine her fingers with his, his eyes faltered in want before he spoke, "You'll accompany me."

Lucien nodded stiffly and once, "For her, I'll do whatever you need me to."

"Thank you," Eris' words were sincere and he found Nesta's gaze, "You can all stay here for however long you'd like," then he found yours and he reached for your hand, his calloused fingers brushing over your knuckles, "Forever if it suits."

The sun hung low in the sky, the moon was pushing itself through the clouds and your heart raced with anticipation for the moment Eris and Lucien would both leave for the boarder, "Please be careful."

Eris nodded, rubbing your clothes arms in his hands to allow his warmth to run through you, "We will. Go and get changed, I'll see to it that food is on the table for you three by the time you're back."

"Us three?"

"The boarder is hours away," Lucien spoke for his brother who couldn't bare to tell you that they would have to leave imminently in order to meet with Rhys, "If we don't leave soon then we risk missing the window altogether."

"You're safe here, y/n. They can't get in."

In that moment, all you wanted to do was throw your arms around him, just to bask in his scent and warmth for another moment longer, but you couldn't. Instead, you nodded and allowed Nesta and Elain to lead you inside, and you continued to look over your shoulder up until the moment when Lucien closed the door with a tight lipped smile cast in your direction.

It would not be the last time you'd see him. If it was, then you'd decimate the entire of Prythian with your fury.

Author's Note

Here we are!

Hope you love it x

Someone told me that 'Who's Afraid of Little Old Me' by Taylor Swift is so The Fox and The Fawn reader coded and I cannot stop thinking about it

Taglist

@mybestfriendmademe @jesskidding3 @rosewood-cafe @fandomarchiveilyd @brujitafantomatico @crazylokonugget @mai-adaptive-dreams @magicstrengthandcourage @acourtofmoonlightandstars @ysmttty @lilah-asteria @circe143 @xyzmeh @paleidiot @namelesssav @amberlynn98 @acourtofbatboydreams @azrielsmate3 @ivy-34 @mp-littlebit @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @iamjimintrash @ifonlyiwerefiction @pirana10

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irisintheafterglow · 8 months

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the first time you tell opla!zoro that you love him, you're not sober either. (part one here!)

"i just-i just don't know what to do," you sniffle, another wave of emotions leaking through your tired eyes and onto your tear-stained shirt. "i'm so in love with him it makes me physically ill, nami."

"mhmm, i can tell," she replies absentmindedly, taking another sip from her drink in the musty light of the bar.

"nami," you plead, wasted out of your mind with your cheek pressed against the dirty table.

"sweetheart," she replies with the same melodrama, unable to hide the amusement in her voice.

"i'm so sad." your voice breaks on the last word and you make a loud hiccup-like noise that has the other guests of the bar eyeing you warily. you couldn't guess how long it'd been since you dragged nami from her hammock to go drink your sorrows away. to her credit, she stayed with you until her patience was thinner than a paper cut.

"i know you are," she says slowly after you'd gone over the same topic about four times in the last five minutes. "look, i feel like you should just tell him. he already told you his feelings."

"see, but that's the thing." she shoots you a skeptical look and you sigh back at her. "what if he's lying? or if he didn't actually mean it?"

"why would he lie about something so significant as that?"

"i don't know, maybe he thought i was someone else-"

"from what you've very thoroughly informed me, he expressed his feelings for you, and only you," she reminds you, tilting her glass toward you for emphasis. her gaze flicks up behind you and she raises her eyebrows briefly, like whoever was approaching was another tool for her entertainment. "tell him. it's now or never."

"what the hell do you-"

"you're out of your mind if you think it's okay to get them drunk before a mission." his voice immediately sobers you, white-hot shame coursing through your veins as you sit up and try to make yourself look presentable. thankfully, he's glaring daggers into nami, who merely shrugs and offers something about being here for a good time, not a long time. "c'mon, i'm taking you back to the ship," he mutters, lifting you from your seat and letting you grab his unfairly strong bicep for stability.

"why'd you come get me?" your steps wobble slightly on the cobblestone, but zoro's determination to keep you upright is unwavering. "i could have gone home with nami."

"i got worried about where you were. thought something happened."

"nothing happened except alcohol and feelings," you drawl absentmindedly, the airy feeling in your mind becoming fuzzier the longer you're with him.

"ah, two of my favorite things."

"liar, you only talk about your feelings when you're drunk." blinking slowly to recenter yourself, you cut him off before he can counter your accusation. "like, the other night. when you told me you loved me." the words slip out unplanned and his body becomes deathly still next to you, his arm so tense you could mine it with a pickaxe.

"i said...what?"

"that you loved me and that it was a secret," you say plainly, glancing at him to find his face a nearly imperceptible shade of pink. "what's with the blush?"

"it's nothing," he says quietly. sober you would have left the conversation at that, respecting his need for privacy and security about his private feelings.

drunk you, however, has no such manners.

"look at you, all red and shit." his ears become an even deeper shade of pink and you can't help laughing at his poor attempt to hide his embarrassment. "you wouldn't be so flushed if it was actually nothing, so what is it?"

"it's nothing," he restates. "it doesn't matter."

"it matters to me. you matter to me." his face feels like it's been set on fire and every place your body is making contact with his feels like an electric current. did you have any idea what your words were doing to him, he wondered. sure, what you said made his brain go foggy like the island coastline in the morning, but what you made him feel was so much worse. you made him feel so lovesick, it pained him.

"the sentiment is reciprocated," he murmurs low enough that you can barely hear him. even while you're dancing around in the streetlights, you've never looked so beautiful to him.

"can i tell you a secret?" he swallows thickly, unsure of how to continue navigating this situation. he settles for nodding, every movement restrained to keep from kissing you until the only oxygen in his lungs has gone through yours first. "you can't tell anyone, though."

"i'm a great secret keeper."

"no, you're not," you reply instantly and his mouth gapes indignantly. "you told me your biggest secret and you don't even remember it."

"fine. i won't tell anyone what you tell me, then. i don't know about anyone else," he promises. after what seemed like an eternity, he finally helps you into your hammock, taking great care to make sure you don't fall out. "if i do tell someone, you can kick me in the balls."

"enticing offer," you laugh and his mouth quirks in a half-smile that you only saw once in a blue moon.

"so, the secret?"

"oh, right," you whisper sleepily. "the secret is that i love you too. i love you so much that i want to throw up."

"i think that might be the alcohol, doll," he murmurs, his fingers gently brushing your cheek. "sober you and sober me need to have a long talk in the morning."

"we said that last time but didn't do shit about it."

"well, i think it's time i did something about it." your eyebrows furrow, completely forgetting anything you'd just talked about. it's okay, he figures. he'll show you how much you mean to him when you're both ready.

"did something about what?"

"how much i love you, too."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#zoro x you #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #one piece x reader #op x reader #one piece fluff #zoro fluff #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro roronoa #roronoa zoro #opla!zoro x you #opla!zoro x reader #opla!zoro x y/n

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breadbrobin · 5 months

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nice

clarisse la rue x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

[fem!daughter of nyx reader]

summary: neither you or clarisse were very nice to anyone, except each other. and sometimes, not even each other.

warnings: swearing, flirting, kissing, clarisse is emotionally constipated, best friends and also idiots to lovers.

word count: 2.0k

—————————————

being nice had never been your strong suit. you were polite, sure. you never talked back. you were never disrespectful. but you were never nice either.

it was something clarisse la rue had always respected you for, and you knew it. it was in the way she would nod at you as you passed each other, the way she’d watch you when new campers came up to you and you met their questions with a blank stare, the way she’d have to fight down a smile when you spoke to her.

only her.

yeah, sure, you were never truly nice—not to most people, at least—but clarisse brought out the same side in you that you brought out in her. kindness.

you swore you could see the tension leave her shoulders when she saw you, and you could feel your jaw unclench when her hand ghosted against yours as you walked together. there was something in the brown of her eyes, the soft quirk of a smile on her lips, the lean in before she whispered a joke in your ear for no one else to hear. it made you feel like you could be nice for once.

it was a stupid feeling. one that made your heart feel fluttery, like it could fly out of your chest at any moment. stupid, stupid, stupid, but you couldn’t help the feeling. still, you held onto your heart with an iron grip. holding onto it for as long as you could before she inevitably swept it from your hands and out into the world, along with every semblance of dignity you still held around her.

“that new kid is getting on my nerves,” you groaned as you entered the ares cabin. it was always quieter in there than the hermes cabin, though that wasn’t difficult to achieve, but it was empty aside from clarisse, which didn’t often happen. as a daughter of nyx, you’d never really had any place in there, not truly. and sure, you didn’t exactly have a place in the ares cabin either, but no one there ever made you feel like an outcast for the way your eyes glowed slightly in the dark like a cat’s or the way darkness seemed to gravitate to you. that was always nice to have. there it was again: nice. society’s obsession with the word had always stumped you. ‘nice to meet you’, ‘you look nice,’ ‘nice work!’ what was the addiction?

clarisse cut through your thoughts like she always did—a sword to the bitterness in your soul and your mind, cutting through the gloom and grim to reach the light hiding well beneath. “what did she do?”

“she won’t leave me alone. apparently, everyone’s said i’m ‘super nice’ and ‘great to hang out with’,” you flopped onto the mattress beside her. she was sitting up, and as you lay there perpendicular to her, you could see that little smile that you loved to spot when you could. “fucking hermes kids and their dumbass pranks.”

“oh, no, whatever will you do?” she drawled dryly, but the hint of a smile was pricking the corners of her lips. she wrapped a strap of leather tightly around a dagger’s hilt.

“die, probably.” you said blandly, staring up at the bunk above you. “or something like that.”

“i could threaten her for you,” she shrugged, setting the dagger aside and leaning forward against her raised knees. “tell her to leave you alone or i’ll shave her head or something.”

you pulled a thoughtful face, then shook your head. “nah. she’ll probably just cry and tell luke, and he’s already looking for reasons not to like me.”

clarisse rolled her eyes. not many people got under her skin like luke did. she’d told you why once—getting a quest from his father was meant to be the greatest achievement of his life, and failing that meant failing his father. she couldn’t imagine that. the disappointment, the pain… she’d always been an overachiever, you supposed. “whatever. if he kicks you out you can move in here.”

you frowned and sat up. “what, really?”

she shrugged. “yeah. i mean, you spend so much time here anyway, so…”

you felt a smile dragging itself across your features and had to bite your lip to suppress it. “sure. if it comes to that, i’ll be at your door.”

“better be. don’t wanna hear any shit about you moving into athena or something.”

you laughed, pushing her lightly. “never. you’re my number one, sweetheart.”

she looked up and pulled a face at you. “gross.”

as you laughed, you realised how much you loved to be one of the only people to see clarisse like this. carefree, relaxed, pulling faces and laughing at bad jokes. it was your favourite way to see her—save for training in the arena, muscles working, skin glistening with sweat under the hot sun… you had to take a deep breath to rid yourself of the thoughts and images.

she smiled as you lay back down with a sigh. her fingers plucked a leaf from your hair smoothly and placed it on her bedside table. your eyes followed her movements. smooth, slow, strong. oh, gods, you were so supremely fucked.

“where’s everyone else?” you asked softly.

she shrugged. her mood had changed instantly. it wasn’t unusual for clarisse though, so you brushed it off. “dunno. told them to get out and they did.”

you frowned and propped yourself up on your elbows, looking up at her. “why? what’s wrong?”

she shrugged again and leaned back against the headboard of her bunk. “just did. nothings wrong.” but she wasn’t meeting your eyes, and the tension had lifted her shoulders around an inch higher, and you knew she was lying like you knew the back of your own hand.

“liar,” you said simply. “tell me.”

“no,” she scoffed. “and if you keep pushing, you’ll be leaving soon too.”

you rolled your eyes. “please. you won’t kick me out. just tell me, clarisse. what’s your problem? did one of those dumbasses make a joke about your dad again? or, what?”

her gaze turned to you and it almost made you flinch. she was angry. she was cold. and she’d never directed that at you. the room even felt a few degrees colder. “get out.”

a shocked laugh slipped from your throat. “what?”

“i said, get out.”

you stared at her. how did you get here? “clarisse—“

“out!” she shouted.

you stood up quickly, looking at her, just waiting for her to tell you she was joking. she was messing around, right? she wasn’t actually angry at you? the look on her face, her clenched jaw and her tight fists said otherwise. you looked down at her. “fine. whatever. you don’t have to tell me, but i’m the only person who gives enough fucks to listen. come find me when you’re ready to grow up.”

she didn’t say anything, no matter how long you waited, watching her, hoping she’d speak.

so you left.

it wasn’t unusual for clarisse to lock people out, but it was unusual for her to lock you out. you were her right-hand man. her advisor. her best friend. and, if you were right, probably the girl she was in love with. (if you weren’t right, she had some explaining to do, because who looks at their best friend like that?)

it was two days. two days of silence. loneliness. boredom. and a twelve year old girl following you around camp because ‘luke told me you’d be my guide!’ when would luke stop trying to get you more involved? surely, he should have learned by now.

regardless, two days were a very long time on your own.

and it was coming up on two day and two nights too, as you were walking on the shore, shrouded in inky darkness and kicking rocks into the quiet water. this was a normal occurrence for you: night walks in a cloak of night itself. it hid you from everyone’s prying eyes.

“i can see you.”

well, nearly everyone.

“thought you weren’t taking to me,” you dispersed your darkness but didn’t look over at clarisse. she was standing behind you, back along the beachfront.

she didn’t speak again, but you still didn’t look back. the lack of footfalls walking away made you realise you just had to trust that she was still there.

you kicked another rock.

“it was my dad.”

you nearly slipped on the wet rocks. “what?”

“that’s what i was upset about. he came to one of my brothers in a dream, but he didn’t come to me.” her voice sounded weak, pathetic, almost child-like in the way that all kids sounded when they just wanted their parents to see them. you understood that too well. after all, wasn’t that the whole reason why you took night walks? being closer to a mother who was the literal embodiment of night itself was a little difficult to achieve, and these walks felt like the only way to manage it. that was why clarisse fought so fiercely and so much—for glory, for power and for her fathers approval.

you turned to face her. you were around ten feet away, but you closed the distance quickly, stopping not far from her. “why didn’t you tell me? why did you push me away?”

“i hate feeling weak.” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. you could see a shine of tears in them. “and you… you make me feel weak.”

you frowned in confusion. “i’m sorry? i think? how do i—?”

“gods, you’re so oblivious,” she sighed. “i used to hate being around you, you know? because you made me feel like i could relax. you still do. you’re the only person that makes me feel like that, and that’s fucking terrifying, y/n.”

you stared at her. was this…? no… “clarisse—“

“just stop talking,” she groaned. “you always talk around me and that just makes things worse! because— because your voice is—is— when you talk it’s like it’s meant for only me!”

“it is,” you said softly.

she froze, looking at you. “it is?”

“yeah, stupid,” you rolled your eyes. “you don’t need to yell at me or anything. i get it.”

“you don’t get it,” she scoffed.

“wanna bet?” you teased, stepping closer.

“i do, actually, yeah,” she met you in the middle, her usual confidence back and stronger than ever, but you could feel her hand shaking as it brushed against yours. “what are the stakes?”

“bragging rights,” you shrugged. “and if i’m right, i’m gonna tell everyone you’re a softy.”

“you won’t tell anyone, because you don’t want to talk to anyone, dummy,” she rolled her eyes. “i’m the only person you actually like.”

you shrugged. “that’s true. i do like you.”

and you kissed her.

you kissed her like the world was ending, like world war three was starting, like you’d be interrupted at any moment.

darkness swirled around you, covering the two of you in inky black as footsteps echoed on a cabin porch in the distance.

clarisse kissed you back with everything she had, with all her strength, like all of her hours of training were made to hold you close and never let you go.

and, when you finally separated, as smoke-dark blackness drifted around you, you found that you’d never been able to see so clearly in your life.

“please, never shut me out again,” you whispered against her lips. “ever. i don’t want to go through that bullshit again.”

she laughed, a quiet sound that echoed through the night. “gross. that was so lame.”

“shut up.” you kissed her again.

you didn’t even mind that she made you feel nice, anymore. nice, and fluttery, and like your heart could fly out of your chest and into the night, and you wouldn’t even be sad to see it go if you had her. and you knew then, you’d always have her.

(requested by @slaggylemon)

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x you #clarisse la rue x y/n #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #dior goodjohn

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daggeck · 2 months

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Literally so so evil that I made a little guy in my head and gave him a story and love and everything and life has the audacity to expect me to go to work and do my job instead of drawing and talking about him with my head in my hands kicking my legs like a teen girl and giggling

#literally work has me so tired that all i could muster was writing out a backstory and throwing together some awful work doodles #but i love this oc so so much #i can already tell hes gonna be important to me #like Bel. Kantet Hase etc #dagger drawls

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fangswbenefits · 5 months

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The Arrangement (11) - First Light

Chapter summary: A much needed discussion takes place and it ends with Astarion coating his daggers with poison.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Mentions of past trauma. Mentions of oral sex. Blood drinking,

Word count: 4.3k

Author's note: I am still unable to reply to comments (I'm waiting for tumblr support to fix this... I read all of the, I promise. You can also send and ask or head to ao3 so I can reply there. Thank you!

Series masterlist

Ao3

Wyll Ravengard was the picture-perfect of integrity.

Well, if you were to exclude his past dealings with the half-devil Mizora. But even then, he had been mostly justified in his assessment of the situation.

So it came as no surprise when you weren't able to find a single trace of judgement on his face.

Only evident concern.

Shadowheart had quickly filled him in on the Waterdeep situation as well as provided him with enough context when it came to Ava.

“Well, this is a… mess,” Wyll eventually drawled out.

Astarion, who was sitting to your right, immediately snickered. “Understatement of the year.”

Shadowheart, who was sitting to you left, promptly quipped, “I wonder whose fault that is.”

He leaned forward to glance at her. “Darling, all that pent-up frustration must–”

You heaved a deep sigh as you nudged him with your elbow, not in the mood to moderate their venomous exchange. “Enough!”

Wyll took a seat across from yours as a Fist stood by his side, hand clasping the handle of his sword in a silent warning.

“You should have told me about your arrangement with Ava,” he said, locking eyes with you. “I know all too well how some propositions are just rotten from the start and doomed to fail.”

Tension and guilt settled in the pit of your stomach.

Not even half an hour ago, you had been able to momentarily push aside the chaos that had been hurled at you in such short notice.

“It seemed like a fair exchange – if her words are to be believed, that is,” you said.

Wyll tensed up. “There is nothing fair about offering your blood to bloodthirsty fiends as an exchange.” He then glanced at Astarion. “No offense.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “None taken, darling.”

But Wyll did have a point even if your arrangement with Astarion was nothing akin to the one with Ava.

Yet…

“Nothing is set in stone. I don't have to go through with any of it.”

From beside you, Shadowheart managed an irritable look. “I cannot be the only one who finds all of this rather convenient. Even if there is someone connected to Cazador after you, why would she withhold that information? Doesn't she need you safe and sound, Astarion?”

“I suppose so, but who's to say? I would need to talk to her,” he said, eyes on Wyll. “I have to talk to her.”

Wyll immediately understood the implication in his words. “Now?”

“Well, obviously not now,” he said indignantly.

The sun was still up and dusk was hours away.

“I don't think that's a good idea,” you intervened, heart racing in your chest. “We need to find out first if there's something that links all of this to Ava.”

“Regardless of that, she still needs to answer for her deranged proposition,” Astarion replied.

Shadowheart scoffed. “You were the one who endangered her in the first place with that bizarre deal.”

He was on his feet faster than you could blink, scowling. “Do not make the idiotic mistake of thinking you are the only one here who cares for her.”

She rose from the sofa, matching his defyance. “Oh, I am sure you care for her – in your own twisted way.”

“Can you two stop it?” you half-shouted, coming to stand in between them before he could retort. “This is pointless!”

They glared at each other in silence for a moment before parting ways, with Astarion sinking down on a chair whilst Shadowheart began pacing around the room, evidently distressed.

“My friends, we need to think critically here,” Wyll spoke again. “Arguing with each other is the last thing we ought to do right now.”

Silence followed as tension dispersed.

“Now, as we wait for Lae'zel and Gale to return, I must ask a few questions, Astarion.”

He crossed his arms. “Oh, this should be fun.”

Wyll ignored his snarky remark, assuming a more serious demeanour. “Why would you resort to her in the first place? Was her promise more solid than the Wish spell?”

“There were no promises made,” he said acidly, a nerve clearly having been struck. “She’s merely experimenting and the prospect seemed too good to pass.”

“So, your blood for a way to lessen your vampiric hunger? That was the deal?”

A cold shiver ran down your spine and you watched as Astarion tensed up slightly.

He had never shared with them just how deep the horrors he endured under Cazador's command truly twisted inside him.

How all of it had taken a toll on his ability to be intimate with someone without feeling tainted.

How it had ultimately driven him into striking a deal with someone like Ava as despair took root.

And it wasn't your place to reveal any of it.

So you merely sat back and observed him in silence.

“It seemed good enough back then,” he said coolly. “Besides, it could also be helpful to the spawn in the Underdark.”

That had Wyll arch an eyebrow. “The spawn?”

“Petras has been sending letters to report back, and – well, let's just say that dealing with 7,000 hungry vampire spawn isn't an easy feat,” he said. “I figured that if her experiment were to be successful, then it'd be beneficial for them as well.”

Oh.

Shadowheart waggled her eyebrows as her feet came to a halt. “So you weren't merely thinking about yourself?”

“Initially, yes. Of course.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course.”

“However, I was the one who doomed them to eternal hunger, so it seemed fitting I'd help.”

“They were doomed either way,” you quickly pointed out. “And it was Cazador's doing.”

His head turned to you. “Be it as it may, their hunger isn't sated for long. I know that all too well.”

Astarion wasn't exactly the epitome of selflessness, but you knew he had come to change some of his ways in the past few weeks after all the events that had unfolded.

And when it came to his own hunger, you figured old habits did die hard.

His eyes then landed on your neck for a moment before looking away.

“I reckon I already know the answer to this, but did you even plan ahead?” Shadowheart said, crossing her arms. “How would you even make this feasible for thousands of spawn with just your own blood? Or were they really just an afterthought?”

Astarion narrowed his eyes. “Ava was handling the … logistics, shall we say. My blood would be the starting point, but not a requirement.”

She scoffed in utter disbelief. “And you took her word for it… blindly. You simply trusted some monster hunter with a blood fetish? This is ridiculous even for you.”

He was definitely a passionate admirer of the ‘laugh now, cry later’ school of thought, which also meant that when the consequences hit… they would hit hard.

“It's not like progress was being made with the Wish spell, sweetheart,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I saw an opportunity and I took it.”

A chill rushed through you like a knife. “Only a few weeks had passed, Astarion. All you had to do was wait–”

And then he snapped. His seemingly calm demeanour finally cracking open and revealing the hurt underneath.

“For centuries, all I did was wait! There were times I wished he would just destroy me once and for all to rid me of the burden of being ‘alive’ under such conditions,” he snarled, rising from the chair as he faced you. “I turned away from all that power I could have – the ritual… everything! I – I just…” His voice faltered and he heaved a sigh, reining back his outrage as his face softened into that expression that just broke you. “Is it such a crime that I want better for myself?”

You shook your head, feeling for him, but… “These things take time. Despair leads to rushed actions.”

He grimaced. “So you'd have me turn to hope?”

“Yes.”

He clicked his tongue. “There's nothing quite as cruel as hope, darling.”

You heard Wyll let out an exasperated sigh from across the room. “Astarion, I will not judge you for the decision you made to mingle with Ava – you had your reasons. But the consequences seem severe enough even if she isn't involved in either of the killings.”

He remained silent.

“It's not just about you anymore. She took an interest in her blood and is now using it as a bargaining chip,” he said. “That is unacceptable.”

“I fully agree with Wyll,” Shadowheart said as she came to sit next to you once again.

“And that is why you'll let me go to her,” Astarion said.

“You're still under house arrest. The Council of Four will–”

“To Hells with them all!” Astarion said through clenched teeth, fangs peeking through. “We're your friends, are we not? And since you're so adamant about my fault in this, allow me to set things right.”

“A good call,” Shadowheart chimed in with a nod.

Wyll seemed taken aback by his words and his frown deepened. “I may have the final word as the Grand Duke, but I cannot consciously go against a collective ruling.”

“The circumstances have changed,” Astarion retorted simply. “I will go to her and you're free to have your Fists point a thousand stakes at me along the way if it eases your mind.”

You could tell Wyll felt torn between duty and reasoning, and you didn't envy him in the slightest.

“You don't understand the consequences of–”

Astarion's face darkened and a devious smile tugged at his lips. “Oh, darling. I do understand. I simply do not care.”

Wyll took a deep breath, clearly realising he was fighting a losing battle.

He turned to face the Fist by his side. “Send word to the Council.”

The tall and broad man nodded before exiting through the front door.

“You can't be serious,” Astarion scoffed. “You should have kept this between us. They don't have to know.”

But Wyll merely shook his head. “We can do things your way and my way.”

Astarion pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan.

“I'm coming with you,” you said, fully determined..

Shadowheart immediately gripped your arm firmly. “No.”

Wyll rose from his seat. “He shall not go alone, but you don't need to get more involved in this than you already are.”

Astarion turned to face you and raised one hand. “Absolutely not. You stay.”

That made your blood boil almost instantly and a flash of anger crossed your face. “I can fend for myself. Just let me–”

But your words were muffled by a deafening swirling and pulsing sound that came from outside.

In no time, the door was slammed open as a visibly irritated Lae'zel stormed inside.

“Tsk'va! Mages and their nauseating portals,” she grumbled before closing the door shut and plunging the room in candlelight once again. “Almost spilled the contents of my stomach. Twice.”

Both you and Shadowheart flocked to her side and you spoke first, “Are you alright? Where’s Gale?”

She nodded dismissively, placing her esteemed greatsword on the long table. “He stayed behind to converse with a few of his acquaintances, trying to make sense of what happened.”

“Well? What happened, then?” Astarion asked as he approached the three with you with Wyll right behind him.

“The man succumbed to a multitude of slashing wounds.”

Your eyes widened as you gasped.

“Slashing wounds? Was it an animal? A monster?” Wyll immediately pressed.

“We do not know. It was a rather brutal sight even for someone like me,” Lae'zel said with a frown.

A shiver spread across your body and you felt nauseous all of a sudden.

“Was there anything odd about it?” Shadowheart asked.

“Because a man being brutally shredded to pieces isn't odd enough?” Astarion said with a scoff.

She ignored him. “Were there traces of necrotic magic?”

Lae'zel arched a brow. “No. What's with this interrogation?”

Shadowheart was definitely trying to find a common element between the two deaths… and Ava.

And it seemed that there was nothing there.

Yet.

“We are trying to figure out if Ava could have had a hand in this.”

Lae'zel didn't budge. “Who?”

“Ava.”

Lae'zel turned to Astarion. “Your hairdresser?”

This time, Shadowheart clicked her tongue impatiently, hands on her hips. “Astarion struck a deal with some monster hunter turned blood merchant and got her involved.” She extended one arm to at you. “This Ava woman now wants her blood for whatever nefarious reason and might also be the one to blame for the death that led to them getting arrest and – quite possibly – the one from today.”

Your eyes widened, quite astonished that she was able to spill all that information in one swift breath.

If the circumstances weren't quite so dire, you would also have chuckled from how she sounded like a child who was telling her strict parent on her misbehaving sibling.

Astarion was obviously offended. “Conveniently leaving out the part where I am entitled to mingling with whomever I want, and that I was completely oblivious to Ava's finding and her proposal.”

Lae'zel glanced at you. “What proposal?”

“It's fine. Don't worry. I won't go through with any of it,” you said reassuringly, placing your hand on her wrist, knowing fully well she was itching to swing her sword on him. “This is all one big mess, but he truly didn't know.”

Shadowheart growled. “You do not have to keep defending him!”

Wyll spoke before you could. “Shadowheart. I understand your indignation, but we need to move on from the constant pointless bickering. What is done is done.”

Astarion clapped thrice. “Ah! The voice of reason!”

She threw him a death glare before crossing her arms and tapping her foot irritably on the floor, but not uttering another word.

Lae'zel, on the other hand, had her narrowed eyes set on Astarion. “You are fortunate she adores that pretty head attached to your body.”

“Was that a compliment, Lae'zel?” he taunted.

“Your ability to turn any remark into an opportunity to feed your ego is truly astounding, Astarion.”

He smirked happily in response. “I do my best – or worst, depending on your taste.”

“Enough of this,” you interjected as you stared at Lae'zel. “When is Gale returning?”

She shrugged. “Unclear. He is also trying to find another contact who might help out with the Wish spell.”

“No.”

All heads turned to Astarion.

His brows knitted together. “No. No one else is getting involved until we figure out what is happening.”

Your eyes met his in mingled surprise and confusion.

Even Shadowheart was stunned silent as her face softened.

“I thought you wanted this more than anything,” Wyll asked.

“Well, yes. But not when people are turning up dead all around me.”

Lae'zel frowned. “So, all of this for nothing? Had a sudden change of heart about your inability to walk in the sun again?”

He rolled his eyes. “Heavens forbid I'm the one pointing the moral compass in the right direction. Don't act so surprised, darling. I still know what I want and what I need to do.”

You closed the distance between you and him, worry brewing in your heart.

“Astarion, the Wish spell isn't easy to come by. It's not easy to find someone willing to teach it and Gale is a powerful wizard and strong candidate,” you said, trying to reason with him as you placed a hand on his arm. “I understand your reluctance, but we might have to wait even longer if this opportunity is disregarded.”

He didn't even flinch. “This is ultimately my choice, and I choose to wait. I've had it with others dictating how I should feel and act. This is the sensible thing to do.”

For centuries, he had belonged to everyone – to anyone – but himself.

Both in body and mind.

So, if this was what he truly thought was best for him, who were you to deny him of it? Maybe you would have chosen differently, but this wasn't truly about you, was it?

He would tell you otherwise, of course. That you had been the stepping stone to his healing process since the nautiloid crash, but you couldn't and wouldn't take full credit for it.

This was a joint effort and you would empower him all the way through.

“I stand with you,” you said eventually said, breaking the silence.

He gradually relaxed under your touch.

Shadowheart spoke next, “I respect your decision, Astarion. We need to see if there is a link between the two deaths. I can go ahead through the portal and ask Gale to return.”

He nodded.

“Very well,” she said with a curt smile.

Wyll approached the door. “I will inform the guards to accompany you once dusk hits, Astarion.”

He nodded again. “Thank you.”

Lae'zel then cursed and left the room with a loud bang behind her as the door closed shut.

Your hand came to his shoulder and his crimson eyes were on you again. “Let me come with you.”

“No.”

You scowled. “I'm not some frail sorcerer. I can stand by your side and help.”

This time, he chuckled. “Sweetheart, you are more capable than most of us combined here. My reluctance doesn't stem from my lack of faith in your abilities,” he said, voice firm and collected. “If anything were to happen to you because of me, I'd never forgive myself. Allow me to handle this.”

Your heart was hammering fast in your chest from his words, and even though you wanted to argue with his decision, you held your tongue back.

In truth, you were mostly scared Ava would have something up her sleeve and hurt him. That was what was eating at your nerves.

But still, you nodded

It was settled then.

You made your way down the corridor, coming to a halt as the faint glow spilled from inside his room.

The door was open for a change.

A comforting smile curled your lips, knowing you'd find him inside.

As you approached the doorway, you spotted Astarion across the room, flicking through a few pieces of cloth placed on the round table.

You knocked twice on the wood “May I?”

He nodded. “It's your house.”

“Well, it's your room,” you retorted. “For now, at least,” you quickly added, not wanting to seem overbearing. After all, he wasn't ultimately here on his own volition.

“You don't have to keep asking,” he said with a faint smile.

Your eyes landed on his bed as you walked in, causing your heart to skip a beat.

A few hours ago, the two of you had been lost in each other's pleasure on that very same spot. Now, the bedclothes had been laid sprawled across it, no creases or any remaining proof of your earlier endeavour.

The two of you had been robbed of after care and a much needed talk about what had happened.

Even if he had seemed quite content during and after all of it, you found yourself always hung on the fear that you had rushed through it all.

So, you needed the affirmation. You needed to hear his thoughts on it and to ensure no boundaries had been crossed.

You approached the table and your gaze roamed cross the clear vials that he had placed by his twin daggers.

Odourless.

Colourless.

Poison.

“Lethal?”

He dabbed a selected piece of cloth on the clear liquid. “No.”

An uneasy feeling began to take root. “Do you think she'll try to hurt you?”

“It would be rather foolish of her,” he mused, dragging the damp fabric along each blade, coating them in a fine layer of poison. “But I've been wrong before about people, so – as they say – better safe than sorry.”

It wasn’t the reassurance you were seeking, but Astarion was more than capable when it came to self-defence.

“Besides, she needs me more than I need her,” he concluded, inspecting the glinting blade close to his eyes. “And if she fails to provide satisfactory answers, the Fists will deal with her.”

You nodded, but still failing to push your fear aside. “What if there is really someone after us? What if she's not connected to any of this?”

You had purposefully let out the faint implication that maybe there was a connection to Cazador. He didn't need to be troubled with that in case Ava was bluffing.

Astarion sheathed both daggers on either side of his waist before his eyes landed on you. “If that is the case, then she will tell me who it is. And she better have a godsdamned good justification for why she thought I would allow you to be involved.”

You absentmindedly bit your lip and he smiled warmly, coming to stand in front of you, wiping his hands clean from any trace of poison.

Silently, he leaned to press a lingering kiss on your forehead, his cool lips making you flinch slightly.

It was as if a surge of lightning had been cast throughout your body, setting you alight.

“About earlier…” you said, swallowing your nervousness.

He traced your jawline with his thumb before tipping your head back so you could properly meet his gaze.

“Darling, already back for another round?”

You broke into laughter. “No! No… that wasn't what I trying to say.”

He tapped your nose lovingly and it was as if the two of you were long-time lovers, used to each other's teases and mannerisms.

Your heart skipped yet another beat.

“I know. Just couldn't miss the opportunity to have you all flustered for me again,” he said with a devious grin. “But do go on.”

“I just want to make sure… it was alright… what we did, I mean,” you said in a whisper.

Astarion's brows furrowed together. “I thought that was pretty much evident…”

A lump swelled in your throat.

You truly didn't want to overstep any lines.

But you had to know. You had to hear it.

“I am talking about… up here,” you said, pressing a finger softly to his temple. “I… just want to make sure you're truly fine. That we're truly fine.”

You held your breath for a moment, dreading a worrisome reply.

He caught hold of your hand and pressed your finger to his lips. “I will always tell you if it's too much.”

A wave of relief washed over you and you allowed yourself to breathe normally.

Still…

You swallowed again. “Promise?”

“I promise, sweetheart,” he said, using your own finger to tap the tip of your nose, earning a heartfelt giggle from you.

“So… it wasn't too much?”

“No,” he said truthfully.

You nodded as he gripped your chin. “How did it feel?”

He paused for a while, pondering. “It felt… right.”

Your stomach turned and your heart sped up from how close he was to you.

How close he felt to you.

“I want to kiss you,” he said all of a sudden. “May I?”

You felt as though you would melt into a puddle from how desperate he sounded.

“You don't have to always ask,” you said truthfully.

He then pressed his cool lips to the corner of your mouth and you instinctively gasped. “I just adore the sound of your voice when you let me in.”

His lips moved to the opposite side, lingering there, and a rush of heat pooled in your cheeks.

“May I kiss you, darling?” he asked once more, pulling back just enough for his lips to barely touch yours. “May I taste you?”

Gods…

“Please do.”

He didn't need to be told twice.

The kiss started off slow at first as his lips molded into yours. But as soon as you made way for his tongue to slide inside, Astarion became the image of hunger.

He cradled your face in his hands and pressed both thumbs on your chin, so you'd open up wider for him.

A flash of memory filled your mind and you recalled how he used to do the same whenever you were on your knees, struggling to fit his thick cock in your mouth.

“You can take more of me, can't you, my sweet?” he'd say, voice dripping with lust.

You'd always struggle at first. Always. But he was such a caring lover and he would always ensure you took your time.

You quickly shuddered as your clit began throbbing evenly.

His tongue was as relentless against yours as his cock had once been, but his eagerness and hunger had his razor-like fang nip at your lower lip, drawing blood.

“Shit,” you groaned from the sharp sting.

Astarion immediately pulled back and you stared at him in confusion.

You felt a few drops dribbling down your chin.

Why wasn't he tasting you?

His eyes were fixed on your lips and his eyes narrowed with bloodlust.

“You're letting it go to waste?” you asked, swiping your finger across the bleeding wound.

He swallowed with a strained smile.

Oh, he was struggling to hold back…

“Well, darling… I don't intend on leaving the house with my cock hard with your blood.”

You clenched so hard you felt a gush of wetness being squeezed out.

But there was only so much Astarion could withstand, so you couldn't fight the moan that tore through your throat as he placed the softest kiss to your lip.

“Just before I go,” he whispered. “So I can take you with me.”

You clenched again and you could feel your clit swell up with each throb.

He eventually parted from you, licking his blood-stained lips as his eyes held that lustful gaze you adored.

“I'll be back soon.”

You were left petrified in place as he swiftly made his way out.

It wasn’t fair how soaked you were.

How soaked he had left you.

You glanced over your shoulder and realised the door had been left open all along and you rushed to the window, tugging on the curtain.

The sun had set as he appeared down below, followed closely by two Fists.

And the single mage slayer.

The three of them trailed after his steps and darted off into the distance.

And you realised that without a mage slayer around to keep your magic at bay, you could simply vanish.

You glanced at the vials of poison on the nearby table and smiled.

TBC

Series masterlist

Ao3

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion x female tav #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x female reader #astarion x you #astarion x f!tav #astarion x f!reader #the arrangement #astarion smut

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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 10 months

Text

Hands to Yourself - Bob

Pairing: Bob / Wife!Reader

Word Count: 0.7k

This work, all my works, and my blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Pregnancy; Touchiness; Excessive Fluff; Use of "You," No Physical Description, No Y/N

Summary: Bob can't keep his hands to himself after he finds out his wife is pregnant.

Master List

It was impossible to tell just looking at you, but you were just around eight weeks pregnant. And the only people on the planet who knew were you, your doctor, and your husband Bob. And frankly you wanted to keep it that way for now. It just felt that much more special to hold that news.

The only problem? Your husband.

Bob wasn’t huge on PDA, but ever since you found out that you were pregnant, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. You would just be standing there and he would come up and rest his hands on your belly as he asked you about your day. If he stopped just a little too harshly while driving, he dropped his hand down to your belly just in case. If you were simply chatting with friends, he would slowly wrap his arm around your waist and rest his hand on your belly.

And you didn’t mind his sudden touchiness. You loved your husband and you might have had a slight personal obsession with his hands for most of your relationship. And you were more than thrilled that he was excited to be a dad and was very much there to support you.

But you didn’t want to give the secret away. Not yet.

Standing with the Dagger Squad and their significant others, you chatted with Phoenix as Bob returned with your ginger ale. You thanked him and pressed a kiss to his cheek before turning back to your conversation with Phoenix. And before you could even finish your sentence, you felt Bob’s hand snaking around to rest on your belly and pull you subtly back against his chest.

“Can’t let her get too far from you,” Phoenix joked to her backseater, who shrugged in response. “Afraid she might run off?”

“Just love my wife, Phoenix. That a crime?”

“Not at all,” Phoenix drawled, glancing between the two of you suspiciously as she sipped at her beer. “Just an observation.”

Phoenix walked off, being called in to referee some stupid argument between Hangman and Rooster, leaving you and Bob alone. Threading your fingers through his own, you turned and slowly slipped his hand off of your belly.

“You’re going to give it away, Bobby,” you whined playfully, causing Bob to grin at you.

“I’m sorry, darling. It’s just instinct.”

“Just a few more weeks, okay?” you promised, resting your hand on your husband’s chest. “And then you can scream it to the world as loud as you want.”

“I plan on it,” Bob assured you, causing you to smile and press a kiss to his lips.

“I love you.”

“I love you too. And you two,” Bob replied with a wink, causing you to shake your head playfully.

“Am I going to have to listen to terrible dad jokes for the rest of my life now?”

“Small price to pay,” Bob stated, pressing a kiss to your head.

The rest of the night wound down and you and Bob eventually moved to make your exit. Walking inside to the bar, you moved to pay your tab. While you chatted with Penny, Bob came up from behind you and wrapped his hand around, resting it directly on your non-existent bump. He pressed a kiss to your head and told you he had to grab something for Fanboy before walking off.

And when you turned back to Penny, you shrunk a bit at her knowing expression.

“Please don’t tell anyone. It’s still early,” you pleaded, causing her to smile a bit wider.

“Tell anyone what?”

“Thank you,” you breathed out, waving goodbye to Penny before moving to locate your husband. The two of you walked back to the car and within seconds, Bob’s hand was planted firmly on your belly once again, causing you to nudge him in the side. “Penny knows.”

“Knows what?” Bob asked innocently, causing you to shoot him a look. Placing your hand over his own, you motioned with your head down towards your belly, causing Bob to smile a bit sheepishly. “I’m sorry, darling, I just can’t help myself.”

“I know, Bobby. It’s okay.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” Bob promised, pressing a kiss to your head.

“Yeah?” you replied, grinning up at your husband. “How?”

“I think the usual options will do,” Bob returned with a wink as the two of you reached the car. Pressing a kiss to your lips, Bob reached over and grabbed the door for you. “Take your pick.”

“Oh, I will,” you mused, slipping into the car.

A.N. Why did I pick Bob for the whole hands idea? No reason. None at all.

Okay maybe there was a reason.

#top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #top gun #tgm #tgm fanfiction #robert bob floyd #bob x you #bob x reader #bob floyd #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fic #bob fluff

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daydreaming-nerd · 4 months

Text

Lipstick Kisses (Azriel x Female! reader)

AN: while I LOVED my last Azriel fic I felt kinda bad about how it ended to so even though this was supposed to be a Cassian fic I thought I would switch it up just to say I’m sorry lol

Summary: You and Azriel weren’t together. But you also weren’t not together. Sure he warmed your bed nightly, but he had made it clear that he was hesitant to date his best friend, Rhysand’s, little sister. You were content to play the game until one night a certain princess got so far under your skin you couldn’t see straight.

Warnings: jealousy, unprotected sex, cockwarming if you squint?

Word Count: 2496

(all pics are from pinterest)

Rita’s had never been so busy before. Packed from wall to wall with members of every court here to celebrate the week leading up to Starfall. A tradition my brother had long since put on. Everyone seemed to be merry and happy, even Azriel who stood at the bar with the Princess of Adriata.

Azriel and I had been hot and heavy for a couple of months. My whole life the shadowsinger and I had danced around one another, flirting here and there but never acting. It wasn’t until one night when I ran into the spymaster in the hallway of the House of Wind, when we couldn’t stay away from one another. It was a mess of hands, teeth, tongues and kisses as he took me against the wall. From that moment on Azriel sought to warm my bed nightly, but nothing more and I never thought to ask him why for fear of losing him. We weren’t together, weren’t not together. And I had no right to stare daggers at the Princess of Adriata, yet here I stood, at the edge of the room doing just that.

“Looking a little tense there y/n,” Cassain drawled, nudging my shoulder.

“I am not tense,” I gritted out.

“Then why does it look like you’re about to shatter that glass with your bare hand?” he retorts. I look to where my polished fingers are gripping my cocktail in rage.

“I’m just scared someone is going to knock my drink out of my hand, it’s super busy in here,” I say, loosening my grip on the glass.

Cassian let out a chuckle, “You sure it has nothing to do with the way Az is looking at the Princess of Adriata?” he smirked. While Az and I hadn’t told anyone about our nightly escapades, poor Cassain was practically forced to have the knowledge as his room was next to mine.

I meet Cassian’s eyes in a sideways glare causing him to laugh again.

“Of course he wants The Princess of Adriata,” I sneer at her name.

“You’re a Princess too y/n,” Cassian reminds me.

“Yeah well apparently not the right type,” I huff, turning around so I don’t have to watch them smile and flirt anymore.

“You should get him back,” Cassian muses.

“If you’re trying to take me into your bed again it won’t work.” I laugh while sipping my drink, remembering a different drunken night, or a few of them, that Cassian and I had shared at Rita’s.

“You wound me Princess, you can’t say you didn’t enjoy yourself all those years ago,” he smirked, bumping my shoulder again.

“Illyrians really are sensitive babies. Now what kind of revenge did you have in mind?” I smirk into my glass.

“You got some red lipstick in that bag?” his eyes gleamed.

I rummage around through the mess of trinkets in my purse till I find the red rouge sitting in the bottom and pull it out. “Looks like I do,” I say, holding it up for him to see.

“Perfect, now put it on,” he says standing in front of me so I can use his siphon as a mirror as I always had for years anytime I needed to fix my makeup or hair. He used to hate it, but now I think it makes him feel special.

“I fail to see where this is going,” I contest putting the lipstick back in my bag.

Cassian didn’t say anything, he just pointed to his cheek asking for me to kiss it. I rolled my eyes and obliged. When I pulled back a bright red lipstick stain adorned his cheek and I realized what he was doing now.

“Cassian, you're a genius,” I laugh.

“Well I am a specialist in war tactics after all. Now go around and say hello to every Lord in here and greet them with one of your sweet kisses. The second Az looks around he’s going to lose his mind.” he explains.

“Thanks Cass,” I laugh before turning away but I feel his hand on my arm.

“I think I might deserve a little more thanks than that Princess,” he says playfully.

“Fine you big baby,” I roll my eyes before placing a quick kiss on his lips seeing the lipstick residue there.

“You’re welcome princess,” he smirks triumphantly before turning away.

I turn to the crowd of people in front of me scanning the hundreds of happy faces packed into the tavern. Like a beacon of hope I find Thesan conversing with two other Lords, the perfect target.

“Thesan!” I cheer, “My brother and I are honored to have you here in our court,” I greet him sweetly, pressing a discreet kiss to his cheek.

“Princess it’s always a pleasure to be in your presence,” Thesan smiles warmly. “May I present Lord Baylor and Lord Suffolk.”

Both Lords reach their hands out to mine and I push them away, “Please I’ve never been fond of handshakes,” I smile gently, embracing each of them and pressing kisses to their cheeks as well.

“We are honored to be here Princess y/n, the stories of your beauty still don’t do you justice,” Lord Baylor smiled.

“You all flatter me too much, it’s going to go straight to my head,” I tease playfully before excusing myself to mingle with the other lords.

I continue my charade until my drink empties and I’m forced to retreat to the bar for another. I be sure to pass right by where Azriel and The Princess of Adriata are talking before leaning against the bartop and requesting my regular. I try to hide the smirk when I feel a certain scarred hand graze my elbow.

“Is there a reason why those red lips have been on the cheek of every man here tonight Princess?” Azriel says lowly into my ear.

“I’m just being a good host Az,” I say, not keeping my eye off the bartender making my drink.

“More than good the way I see it,” he grits and his hands trace the backs of my arms. The bartender brings my drink over and I leave a large tip in his jar. I finally turn to meet Azriel’s intense gaze.

“Don’t be so jealous Azriel, after all we aren’t even together,” I tilt my head before sauntering off.

When I get back to the House of Wind that night I’m utterly exhausted. I open the door to my bedroom and kick my shoes off sending them flying across the room. My dress is the next to go, falling in a pile on the floor. I wash up, and slip on my nightgown before falling into my bed with a sigh, too lazy to turn off the small fae light next to me. I try to sleep but it’s not the same without a certain Illyrian next to me.

A half hour later I hear the door open slowly, I pretend to still be asleep not wanting to even speak to Azriel. When I had left Rita’s he was still talking with The Princess of Adriata, and this time she had a hand on his bicep.

I heard daggers and leathers falling to the ground as the bed sank behind me.

“Scooch over Princess, there's no room for me,” he whispered into my ear as his arms circled around me to move me over.

“Get off me Az, I don’t remember inviting you to my bed tonight,” I grumble, not moving an inch.

He doesn’t move, “I’ve been sleeping here for three months y/n what do you mean?”

“I mean, I don’t want The Princess of Adriata’s sloppy seconds sleeping in my bed, now go to your own room,” I huff, slamming my head down on my pillow for emphasis.

Azriel scoffs, “This is about Cressida?” he asks in disbelief.

“Oh good for you, you’re on a first name basis with the oh so perfect princess,” I say donning the same mocking tone I used to Cassian.

“You do know that you’re also a Princess,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to my shoulder.

“So I’ve heard,” I roll my eyes, moving my shoulder away from him. “Now get out.”

“Y/n, I didn’t sleep with her,” Azriel says, pressing another kiss to my shoulder.

“Yeah right,” I scoff.

“She did try, but I told her I was seeing someone,” he continued kissing my arm.

“Oh really?” I sneer.

“Yes my love,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “You.”

“I thought you didn’t want to be with me, I thought you just wanted to fuck me,” I grumble trying not to enjoy his lips on my body.

“I never said that,” he states and I can feel his agitation.

“Well you didn’t not say it either, what am I supposed to think when I only see you at night?” I argue.

“Fine, I’ll admit it, I was scared.” he grumbled, moving to lean back on the pillows.

I sit up to face him and find him pressing the heels of his hands into his forehead like he has the largest migraine to ever be known to man.

“Scared of what?” I scoff in disbelief. He was Azriel, my spymaster and a shadowsinger. I had seen his fierceness on a battlefield countless times, seen him slaughter enemies of my court. What could possibly scare him?

“I was scared that one day you’d wake up and realize what I truly am, a lowborn nobody. You’re a princess for gods sakes y/n. The most beautiful woman in Prythian. You should be with a prince like Varian, not me. And even though I knew that I couldn’t stay away from you. You smell so good and your skin is so soft and the way you look at me sometimes? It would’ve taken all seven High Lords to keep me from your bed, especially when you invite me to it so willingly. I was scared that if we made our relationship something more than just pleasure that you would realize that, and that’s a blow I couldn’t handle.” Azriel confessed, finally ripping his hands off his forehead to stare at the ceiling.

“Azriel I-”

“It’s okay you don’t have to say anything,” he sighed, getting out of bed.

“Az,” I plead, but he keeps walking.

“Azriel stop!” I scream not the request of a lover, but the order of a princess. I see his wings twitch as he stops moving, still not turning to meet my eye.

“Azriel I love you,” I confess.

He whips around to meet my eyes, using his years of reading people to try and decipher whether or not I’m telling the truth. He finds no trace of a lie and before I know it he’s standing over the bed and bringing his lips to mine. His knees sink to the bed and I use his off balance to push him down into the pillows so I can straddle his lap.

“Do you mean it?” he asks as I lean back to look at him, his eyes blown out and on cloud nine.

“I’ve loved you for years Az, just ask my brother. When I thought you didn’t want to do anything but bed me my heart was broken, but I was willing to take whatever I could get.” I explained.

“You have all of me y/n, you always will,” he smiles, leaning up to kiss me. “But I’m still mighty jealous of all those lipstick prints, especially the ones I saw on Cassian.” he smirks against my skin.

“I think I can make it up to you,” I smile before reaching over to my bedside table to retrieve the lipstick from my discarded clutch. I keep our eyes locked as I put the cherry red color all over my lips and I swear I feel his cock twitch under me.

I lean down to leave a kiss on his cheek, then his forehead, his jaw, his chin and then I give the other side of his face the same treatment. I move my lips down either side of his neck earning a low groan from him. I smile and continue my assault all over his bare chest and shoulders.

“Fuck y/n,” he moans and I can tell he’s trying not to flip me over and pound me into the mattress.

I leave lipstick marks all over his abs and when I reach his boxers I pull the waistband down just enough to leave a kiss right above his aching cock.

“Fuck this I need to be inside you,” he grunts and I’m quickly being hauled up by my arms and tossed on my back. Within moments he slams his cock inside me.

“Oh fuck Azriel!” I scream, raking my nails down his back.

The room is filled with the sound of skin slapping as Azriel thrusts inside me at a brutal pace. Both seeking his own pleasure and to claim.

“Your turn Princess,” he smirks before sucking the skin of my neck into his mouth. My hands fly to his hair pulling him closer to me as his teeth sink into my neck.

“Azriel,” I breathe into his ear and he spurs his hips even faster. I feel him leave a light lick soothing the skin he bit into.

“Mine,” he growls before leaning back to admire his work. He lifts my legs and puts them over his shoulders to hit me even deeper making my eyes roll to the back of my head.

“Azriel!” I scream practically in subspace.

“That’s right Princess, let everyone know who owns this little pussy,” he grins with male pride.

“Yours Az all yours,” I breathe, unable to find my words.

“Good girl,” he says before reaching down to rub circles into my clit. The sudden sensation is enough to have me arching my back and cumming on his cock, a string of curses and his name falling off my lips.

Azriel continues thrusting into me seaking his own pleasure before spilling into me with a moan that practically shakes the doors. His head burrows into my neck and I run my hands through his hair pressing kisses to his face. I look up at him to see the lipstick marks all over him and I can’t help but laugh.

He rolls us to the side taking me with him so his cock is still inside me.

“Do you think Rhys is gonna kill me when he finds out?” Azriel asks jokingly but I can tell he’s genuinely wondering.

“Well he was pissed at Cassian but he got over it so I’d say we’re good,” I sigh tracing the lipstick marks left on his chest.

“Wait, you slept with Cassian?” he asks, stunned.

“Yeah like 105 years ago, you didn’t know?” I laugh.

“No I didn’t,” he says, throwing his arms around me and standing up making sure his cock doesn’t leave its spot nestled inside me.

“What are you doing?” I giggle playing with his hair as I feel my back hit the far wall of my room.

“Fucking you against Cassian’s bedroom wall,” he smirks kissing me deeply. “Gotta let him know we’re official now.”

#azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x reader angst #azriel x reader fluff #azriel x you #azriel x reader smut #azriel smut

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hellsenthero · 5 months

Text

A Brothers Mate

Azriel X FemReader X Cassian

You knew there was more between Azriel and Cassian, despite others' opinions of the two. You were okay with that, their relationship, but seeing your mate's happy without you was killing you.

Warnings/Themes: Smut, Language, (2.7K Words.)

MASTERLIST

-----

You knew the Illyrians were closer than they let on. Others said that the two were raised as brothers, and that may be true, but the sentiment of brotherhood had clearly changed over the centuries. Brothers didn’t look at each other like that.

Azriel leaded against the wall, arm crossed over his chest, a few of his shadows gently swirling around him. Rhys and Mor were talking about some wine and who'd drank more of it the night before. Cassian was sitting comfortably in an armchair adjacent to Mor. One hand hung limp over the side, the other clasped around a glass of amber liquid. You sat on the couch, beside Rhys, listening to the heated debate. You listened, but your gaze was focused on the Shadowsinger and the War Lord. It was small, casual–the glances they shared, but you didn't fail to notice the rosy tint to Cassian’s cheeks or the shy little uptilt of Azriel’s lips.

It was sweet to see the love the two shared. You supported it, you wanted the best for them, but Mother above, it was heartbreaking. It was heartbreaking because you knew they didn't feel the same about you.

“Well,” you drawled, catching the attention of everyone in the room. “I'd hate to cut this riveting debate short, but I'm headed home.” You stood from your seat with a stretch and a small smile. “And it was me, by the way, that drank all the wine.” Mor and Rhys shot daggers at you with their eyes as Cassian let out a boisterous laugh.

“Should've known,” he said with a knowing look your way.

“Night all,” you said as you grabbed your things before leaving out the front door.

The air was crisp. You could smell the beginning of autumn in the air, a soft, smokey undertone that was pleasant to your senses. Your steps echoed in the night as you strolled along the paved pathways of the city. You didn't make it far before a gust of shadow swept wind brushed past you, tickling the tips of your ears.

“You don't have to walk me home.” You told the shadowsinger.

“I want to,” came Azriel's deep reply as he materialized by your side.

“I thought you'd be with Cassian right about now.” Another gust of wind picked up before a second voice answered you.

“Who says he isn't?”

You rolled your eyes at the two over protective illyrians that walked on either side of you. “Hello, Cassian.”

“Hello, sweets,”

“So you two bats are that determined to walk me home?”

“Well,” Cassian begun, nudging his shoulder against your side. “You left too soon sweets, we just wanna spend time together.”

You let out a small laugh. “Right.”

Azriel stopped you with a hand to your shoulder, his grasp was firm, but gentle.

“He's right, Y/N.”

You stepped forward and turned around to face the two males. In the low moonlight they looked even more mysterious and handsome than ever. Their wings appeared darker, more intimidating as they rose above them. You wanted to lean forward and touch the leathery membrane of their wings. You wanted to watch them shudder with pleasure from your touch, listen to their heavy breathing and deep moans. You wanted to taste them, drink their…

You breathed out and took another step back. Your wants didn't matter, the males before you weren't yours.

“You two can move on to whatever you had planned for tonight. I'll tell the others you walked me home and we had a late nightcap, if they want to know why the two of you didn't return right away.” The two males shared a look between themselves and you took that as your cue to continue on your way. You only got a few feet down the street before the males were at your side once more.

“You're more observant than you let on.” Cassian said softly.

“I'm more surprised the others haven't figured it out.” You answered.

“We've been careful. We didn't want them to know anything before you.” Azriel replied.

That comment had you pausing. “Why?”

Cassian ruffled his wings uneasily.

“Isn't it obvious?”

You wanted to believe it, wanted to believe that they felt the same about you than you did them, but you couldn't, wouldn't let yourself entertain the thought.

“No,” you said softly. You knew Cassian and Azriel could hear it for the lie it was.

Azriel stepped forward, close enough that you had to tilt your head up to meet his eyes. “Try again.” He ordered.

You swallowed. “Yes,” you breathed.

“Say it,” Cassian begged. His signature smirk was back on his face.

“I can't,” you admitted.

“C'mon sweets, say it.”

You paused, taking the moment to cherish what was possibly the last moment of your relationship with the males before you, because if you were wrong… Cauldron, if you were wrong, you think you might break. “Because,” you began, “I'm your mate.”

The males before you smiled, even Azriel, who was always very careful with hiding his emotions.

“There you go,” Azriel said, “we've been waiting for you to admit it.”

“How long have you known?” You asked.

“Long enough,” Cassian groaned. “We thought you might say something, that you felt how we did-”

“I do.” You admitted.

“Good,” Cassian breathed. “Then let’s continue home, shall we?” Cassian swept his hand out before him, motioning to continue onwards to your little apartment in the city.

The silence that followed the three of you through the night was comfortable, more comfortable than it perhaps had ever been, now that things were out in the open.

“You don’t mind sharing?” You blurted, disrupting the silence.

Cassian chuckled. “No. Do you?”

“No,” you answered truthfully.

“This bond,” Azriel began softly, “goes three ways, Y/N. It’s not a thread that branches off between us, it’s a continuous circle.”

“A continuous circle,” you murmured. It made sense, the way they looked at each other along with the way the males spoke to you. This wasn’t just some ill fated love triangle, it was the reality you had hoped it would be.

“The snake that eats its own tail.” Cassian said as he threw his arm over your shoulder.

“We don’t want to force you to accept anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“I know.” You answered as you finally reached the front door of your apartment. You stopped on your front steps, pausing for a moment before facing the males just a few steps behind you. “Do you want to come in?”

Their grins were answer enough.

The War Lord and the Spymaster had envisioned this moment many times, many ways, but living it out was something entirely different.

You led them to the living room, waving a hand to the black couch that sat against the far wall. As the males took a seat you busied yourself at the bar cart. “Drink?” You asked, already pouring out a helping for yourself.

“Yes, please.” The males answered in unison.

You made quick work of getting their drinks, pouring each a generous hand of amber liquid before facing them. “When did it click for you?” You asked.

Cassian and Azriel shared a look amongst themselves before looking back at you. “Do you-” Cassian cut himself off as you straddled his lap. His breathing stuttered as Azriel adjusted himself beside the two of you. “Do you remember that party Mor threw a few months ago?”

“Yes.”

“Well,” Azriel took over for Cassian. “It clicked for both of us that night.” Your brows rose in surprise. Up until now, you had thought the two males had separate experiences with the bond.

Azriel chuckled at your look of surprise. He layed a scarred hand on your leg before continuing on and you found yourself wishing he'd trail it up higher, closer to where you needed him.

“It was when we were dancing.” Cassian admitted. “Remember when I stumbled and stepped on your toes?”

“Yeah,” you chuckled at the memory. The War Lord who was usually so balanced on his feet, stumbling on the dance floor to the point of crushing your toes. “I recall being quite upset with you for nearly breaking my toes.”

“Yes well, I was stumbling like a fool because the bond had just snapped for me.”

“I suppose in that case I can forgive you.” You purred, leaning in closer to the male. Cassian set his glass down in favour of holding onto your hips. “And you?” You asked, turning to face Azriel.

“It was when the two of you approached me at the bar that it snapped,” Azriel paused for a brief moment. “For the both of you.”

You debated asking your next question, but figured that no matter the answer, you wouldn't mind. “Have you two…”

“Fucked?” Cassian finished for you boldly.

“Very eloquent, Cas.” Azriel muttered.

“I mean, I figured you have.” You continued. “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other.”

The males shared a look before Azriel answered. “No, we haven’t.”

“We wanted to wait for you, to at least tell you about our feelings before anything happened.” Cassian supplied.

You paused, a slow, knowing smile creeping up on your face. “You romantic fucking bastards.” The males laughed–Azriel’s hand traveled further up your leg. He was so, so close to where you wanted him. “Go higher, Shadowsinger.”

The Shadowsinger complied.

“Mother above the two of you are making me fucking hard.” Cassian groaned.

“Join in.” You demanded as you ground your hips down on his hardening length. Cassian laid one hand on top of Azriels own, right on your hip. The other hand raised to the side of your breast, caressing you over your clothing as he leaned in and began kissing up your neck.

You tilted your head to the side, giving the War Lord better access to your neck as Azriel dipped his fingers under the band of your underwear. His scar covered hand teased your slit, sliding through your wetness to find your bundle of nerves.

“Yes!” You gasped in pleasure as Azriel toyed with you.

Azriel’s warm breath ghosted over you as he chuckled. “So wet.” He murmured.

“Let me taste.” Cassian ordered.

Azriel brought his hand away from your heat and over to Cassian's open mouth. Cassian hummed around Azriels two fingers. If the moment weren’t so intimate, you would ask Feyre to paint a picture of the look in Cassian’s eyes as he licked your juices off of the Shadowsingers fingers. “My turn.” Azriel said. You expected him to dip his fingers back down into your core. Instead, Azriel pulled his fingers free from Cassian’s mouth and leaned in, kissing him.

That, was what you would get Feyre to paint if you could. The two males clung onto you as they devoured each other. Cassian’s hips shifted up, grinding into your core. “He likes it, Az.”

Azriel pulled away with a chuckle. “Of course he does.” The Shadowsingers hazel eyes met your own. “I think it’s time we move this to the bedroom.”

You didn’t take your time going to the bedroom. The three of you were a rushed mess of scattered clothes, heavy breathing and tangled limbs by the time you found yourself spread out on your sheets. “Need you,” you panted. The males in the room knew it wasn’t directed at anyone in particular.

“Need this?” Azriel asked as he slid two of his fingers inside of you.

“Fuck,” you gasped.

“That’s not an answer, sweets.” Cassian said. The War Lord was kneeling beside you, tugging at his cock as he watched Azriel pleasure you.

“Yes,” you answered. “I need this, please, don’t stop.”

“I don’t plan on it.” Azriel answered before he leaned over you. The hand that wasn’t inside you gently grabbed hold of your throat, securing you to the bed as he kissed you. His shadows caressed your body. Cool, dark tendrils that were both an extension of him and their own being entirely. Cassian’s free hand followed the shadows path along you body, bringing warmth back into your body after the shadows cool touches.

“I need more.” You demanded from the males above you. Cassian and Azriel shared a look, both pausing in their movements.

“Who do you want first?” Azriel asked.

You paused, thinking. “You,” you answered back to the Shadowsinger.

Azriel crept off your body and stood at the end of the bed. “As you wish.” He rasped as he shucked his clothing off. With each layer that fell to the floor you wanted to devour the male more and more.

You sat up in interest as Cassian moved away from your side and over to Azriel, lowering himself to his knees. “Gotta make sure you’re ready too.” Cassian said before taking Azriels length into his open mouth. You gasped at the sight of the Spymasters scarred hand clutching onto the other males hair, pulling at his locks as he fucked himself into his mouth. You couldn’t help but find the sight of Cassian on his knees to be natural. Alluring, and natural. With a gasp and a line of saliva, Cassian pulled himself off of Azriel once he deemed him ready. “Go fuck our girl.” He ordered.

And by the Caldron, did Azriel listen.

“Fuck!” You cried out as Azriel thrust relentlessly into you.

“You feel so good.” Azriel breathed.

“So, so good,” you babbled.

“Cas, help her out.” Azriel ordered.

Without removing himself from your breasts, Cassian reached a hand down and circled your bundle of nerves.

“Yes!” You screeched. Your climax came hurtling through you at the hands of your mates and it was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. Azriel reached his end along with you, spilling himself into you with heavy breathes. Cassian ran his hands along both of your bodies with light kisses and whispered words of affection.

“Do you have enough energy to ride Cas?” Azriel asked you with a wicked grin.

“Absolutely.”

Azriel pulled himself free from you with a groan, his spend slipping out after him. Cassian was ready and waiting for you at your side, laying flat on his back. As you prepared to sink down on his length Cassian stopped you with a firm grip around the waist and a light chuckle. “Not my cock, Y/N. I want you to ride my face.” He said as he guided you to sit above him. You knew that if Azriel hadn’t just pulled an orgasm from you then Cassian’s words alone would have.

“Cas,” you gasped as he sat you right where he wanted you.

“Perfect,” Cassian murmured before licking up your core.

The War Lords mouth was absolutely sinful against your already abused core. Azriels shadows wrapped around you, holding you in place for Cassian to devour and Azriel to tease with his mouth and hands. Cassian slurped, sucked, licked and played with every part of you as you sat above him, fucking his face.

“I’m close,” you warned the males. Whether it was minutes or hours after your first orgasm, you couldn’t tell, all you knew was that you had been filled with pleasure for longer than you could contain. “Cas!” You cried. “I’m-close! I, I…” you broke off in a moan as you came over your mates face.

Behind you, Azriel fisted Cassian to completion, working him through his own climax with his hand.

After a few deep breaths you slid off of Cassian and into the sheets beside him, throwing an arm over his naked torso as Azriel stood and made his way to your bathroom. The Spymaster was gone for less than a minute before he returned with a damp cloth and cleaned the two of you up, ridding of it somewhere else in your room before sliding into bed with the two of you.

—-

It was later in the night, or perhaps early morning, that you broke the silence between yourself and your mates. “Tell Rhys you can’t go on any missions for a while.” You said to the males that laid on either side of you.

“Why?” Azriel asked.

“Because,” you admitted, “in the morning I plan on making the two of you breakfast.”

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allbark-no-bite · 7 months

Text

cowboy up.

jake seresin x reader (wc: 2.6k)

summary: Jake’s a tease. and a cowboy. it makes your friends sick

warnings: really none i think, just talk of and allusions to sex

authors note: very loosely based off of “Dirty Looks” by Lainey Wilson. it got me into the mood to write a little something. briefly mentioned that reader is Ice’s daughter

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"Well hello, mi cowboy."

It's the deliciously sensual roll of the endearment off of your tongue that has Jake hooking two fingers through the loop of your jeans and tugging you firmly into his side as he approaches the bar. It starts up an engine-like rumble in his chest that travels up his throat and catches, vibrating while he bows down to kiss you. Just the sight of your sweet smile has the weariness of the day melting off of him.

El cowboy, you mother had appraised with great enthuse the first time you had brought Jake home, and he greeted her with his smooth as honey southern drawl. Being Latino and having grown up just along the border in El Paso, her English was still licked with Spanish flare and it made everything she said sound rivetingly amorous. Even after three years of dating, she still widely referred to him as the cowboy—your cowboy.

"Hey, darlin'. Sorry I wasn't here sooner. There were some mechanical issues with my plane and I couldn't get away," he apologizes, hence the grease stains on his hands. He had probably only taken the time to change into a fresh set of clothes before leaving base and driving straight to the Hard Deck.

You only hum, tipping your head up to steal a second kiss before he straightens. "Glad you're here now."

Jake has to stop himself from chasing your lips for a third. Penny's warned him about getting too frisky at the bar. It's not his fault when you taste like strawberry margaritas and are wearing those jeans that you know drive him crazy.

But when he looks over his shoulder, Penny's sliding him an ice cold beer from across the bar. "This one's on the house, Seresin." The gleam shining in her eyes tells him that she's caught the two of you but is going to let it slide this time.

When he opens his mouth to argue, already digging his wallet out of his pocket, she shakes her head. "Looks like you had a long day. Enjoy the beer."

"Really, Pen, I—"

Penny's back is already turned as she heads to the other side of the bar to serving an incoming crowd of aviators.

Jake glances down to his well worn boots while his hand goes to his jaw to feel at the beginnings of a five o'clock shadow. Does he really look that worn out? He has to resist the urge to smell himself.

He looks back to you, suddenly feeling ashamed of himself for showing up like this. Here he is, covered in sweat and engine grease, while his own girlfriend is standing next to him, looking way out of his league. Even the Dagger Squad looks fresh and put together. It would have been hard to guess that they had all been out sweating on the tarmac together earlier in the day.

"I probably should have cleaned up," he admits, running a hand over the cropped hair at the back of his neck. He's wondering if he can at least escape to the bathroom for a minute to stick his head under the sink.

What Jake doesn't know is that you might actually kill him if he does that. There's something about the combination of his off-duty khakis and dusty boots that is making your heart flutter. The tousle of his blonde hair after a long day and ruddy flush of his already tan cheeks give off the impression that he's more than just a pretty face. He looks hard working and very, very capable.

"Jake?"

"Hmm?" he hums, having been eyeing the bathrooms, contemplating even just splashing some water on his face.

Your heart squeezes painfully when his dazzling green eyes turn back to land on yours, eyebrows raised in question, fully attuned to whatever it is that you may need. "What baby—"

He stops mid sentence when you pull him down by the back of his neck to kiss him. This time it's a much less chaste kiss than the one you greeted him with, and he gets to really taste the strawberry margarita on your lips—a bit sweet, a little salty. The taste makes his mouth tingle and he's not sure if it's you or the tequila that's making him feel buzzed.

Jake's hand immediately slips around your waist, his large hand on your back, pressing you into him. A groan slips out of him when his fingers brush the warm skin just above the rise of your jeans.

The fact that you had purposefully chosen not to wear your khakis like himself and the rest of the crew makes Jake that much more hot and bothered. It's not that he dislikes your usual naval attire, because he doesn't. He loves how it fits you, who you become when you wear it, your signature "Frostbite" embroidered on the front—the name he gave you. It's the fact he's come in, dead on his feet from working all day, and his diamond of a girlfriend is wearing an outfit she put on just for him.

Really, Jake thinks his chest might just implode.

His free hand had been holding his beer out to the side, momentarily forgotten once you'd started kissing him. Blindly, he sets it down behind him, the glass clinking against the bar top so that he can get both of his hands on you without spilling. He prefers you, the taste of your skin anyhow.

"So damn sweet," he groans into the underside of your jaw, eyes shut as he fights the urge to say fuck it and take you home now. "Could just eat you."

You laugh, fingers gripping his blonde hair. "Is that a promise, cowboy?" Jake's teeth scrape your pulse point and your fingers tighten. His body is hot pressed flushed against you, moving as you move so that the contact never breaks.

"Baby, I'd devour you," he promises huskily into your ear. Mav has been working them to the bone for the past few weeks, and Jake has hardly had the energy to climb the front steps when he gets home, much less make it to the bedroom. To say you've both been left wanting is an understatement.

His lips press wetly to your neck. "You look good, Frosty Girl. You know how much I love those jeans..."

You hum, eyes fluttering closed as Jake sends you to that place. That place where only you and Jake exist, where the worries of the day melt away, and it smells like his cinnamon oak body wash and the hint of beer on his breath. It doesn't matter than he smells slightly of sweat and jet fuel because that's just him. That's what makes him Jake.

"Mmm, you do?" Of course he does. Jake Seresin drinks the air you breathe and worships the ground you walk on. "I think you'll like what I have on under them more."

If Jake had been twenty-one again, he'd have a raging hard on in his jeans right now. After two years of dating you, he's developed a bit of self control since then. He spent a lot of lunch breaks jacking off in the bathroom the first few months. All you had to do was rub up against him climbing out the back seat of the cockpit and he was sneaking off to take care of himself before any of the Dagger squad could see the missile sized hard on in his pants.

Jake smiles, his pearly white grin pressed into your neck. His jade green eyes peer up at you with a gleam of anticipation.

"Black?" he guesses, his nimble fingertips already dipping just past your waistband to brush across the lace he knows he's going to find.

"Uhh mm," you deny, enjoying the thrill of teasing him with your secret.

His warm breath fans across your neck. "Red?"

The corners of your mouth quirk up into a look that Jake can only describe as devilish. "I figured you deserved a treat. I know you've been—" Before you can finish, Jake is kissing you. His pink lips are cool and a bit wet from the beer he's been nursing, but his tongue is hot and slick and wet and it just feels so good.

"Jesus. Get a room, you two."

Despite the roar of blood in his ears, the buzzing in his veins, Jake recognizes the sound of Bradley's voice just a table away.

Begrudgingly pulling away from the kiss, Jake doesn't release you just yet, just moves his head to look over your shoulder. He had hardly even acknowledged the Dagger Squad when he walked in, too focused on you. And maybe that's on him.

"Sorry, Bradshaw. Didn't see you there." You can tell Jake's smirking over your shoulder, hand not so slyly cupping the curve of your ass as he reaches for his beer with the other, playing at indifference. He takes a slow swig of it, unbothered by the fact that your friends -you coworkers- are all watching. "I was busy saying hello to my unbelievably sexy girlfriend."

Without breaking eye contact with Bradley, Jake plants a filthy wet kiss to the pulse point of your neck. It's enough to make the other aviator's mustache twitch and his throat constrict with a impulsive swallow. Regardless of how they acted— always at each other’s throats— there was no longer any bad blood between the two pilots. That feud had been settled on the Uranium mission last year and was replaced by new found respect, but that didn’t mean that they didn’t seize every opportunity to ruffle the other’s feathers.

"This is a public space," Natasha reminds him, as if he were unaware of the extremely crowded bar.

Jake smirks. "Oh believe me, I'm holding back for Floyd's sake. Wouldn't want to ruin his innocence."

The weapon system officer emits a noise of protest from across the table, his cheeks flashing an embarrassed hue of red. "I've already told you, I'm not a virgin!"

You giggle into Jake's shoulder at his complait, content to bask in the temporary stronghold of your boyfriend's embrace. It's nice to get moments with him like this, away from the stress of work and without the pressure of success weighing on your shoulders.

Of course your friends knew about yours and Jake's relationship, had known since the very first date, but in nearly three years of dating, they had come to the realization that they knew very little about your relationship. Work was strictly professional for the two of you and even at the bar, the most intimate thing they'd ever seen occur was Jake greeting you with a quick kiss.

"Damn, Bagman, you walking in here, kiss Frost senseless, and now she's giggling? You're telling me that's all it takes to bring her from she-devil to—giggling?" Coyote asks from behind his pool cue, sauntering over to join the group.

Jake, his green eyes gleaming, slips his warm palm under your shirt to smooth over the exposed curve of your hip. "I can make her do a lot more than giggle, Machado."

You groan, burying your embarrassingly flushed face further into Jake's neck. Although your boyfriend may be able to play the nonchalance card, you can only take so much of their teasing.

You push away from Jake before he can start full on groping you in front of your friends. If there's one thing about Jake, he has no shame when it comes to showing you off.

"I don't giggle, Javy," you stress, choosing to ignore Jake's comment.

Fanboy, who is never far behind the other pilot, saunters over and slings an arm around his friend's shoulders. "Giggle? I've never even seen you crack a smile."

Before you can respond, Jake is sliding an impossibly large palm around to cup the back of your neck, fingers digging in to the tense muscle that he knows is there. Relax, is what that means. "Careful, she does bite." He's grinning, a smug, but knowing smirk on his face.

"Fuck, man. I knew you were into that kinky shit," Coyote quips, and it evokes a few laughs from the Dagger squad, save for Natasha, who pretends to roll her eyes.

Jake grins. "Damn straight."

"Easy, cowboy," you warn, your eyes narrowing at him in playful warning.

You're not necessarily embarrassed by Jake's insinuation of your sex life, the two of you were well established in your relationship and you trusted your friends too much to be embarrassed by that kind of thing. It's just that being Admiral Kazanky's daughter meant that too many people assumed you had only made it this far because of your old man or that you were sleeping through the ranks, which was far from the truth.

You deserved to be here. And Jake knows this, which is why his thumb is still massaging at the pressure point at the base of your skull, just behind your ear. Everything about him, from the reassuring smile he directs at you to his relaxed body language is him letting you know that it's all in good fun, and no one here thinks that you don’t belong here in the slightest.

Bradley's shaking his head as he lounges against the pool table. "I don't know what I'm going to have to tell my therapist about first, the fact that Frost calls you 'cowboy' or the fact you probably get off on that shit.”

Jake grins, toothpick bobbing in his mouth as his impish smile widens. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Bradshaw?”

The truth is, he does. Behind the cool and collected facade that he’s putting up, bantering back and forth with your friends while he sips his beer, he’s just the right amount of hot and bothered that he wouldn’t mind calling it a night just to go home and have his way with you. He hasn’t forgotten about the little red number you’re wearing.

Having lost the attention of the rest of the squad to the pool table during his and Rooster’s banter, Jake shifts his focus to you. Large hand coming to rest on your back, he dips down to murmur in your ear. “Think I’m about ready to turn in, kid. What do you say we get out of here?”

Your pretty face turns towards him, and you don’t miss the gleam in his green eyes. Smiling privately to yourself, you eyes reflect his knowingly. “Rooster will never let you live it down. You only just got here.” However, that doesn’t mean you can’t be coerced.

Jake hums, his lips pressing to your temple in a kiss that’s meant to hide the fact that he’s whispering— plotting— in your ear. “I’ll buy ‘em around on the way out. They won’t even notice we’re gone,” he reasons.

You smile, turning back to the game of pool as Jake leans over you before you give him. “Go on,” you finally encourage. “I’ll follow you out.”

Grinning and all too pleased with himself, Jake slips off behind you, but not before giving an affectionate pat to your ass. You have to refrain from rolling your eyes at him.

You wait a while before discreetly making your escape form the pool table, grabbing your things as you go. Jake’s waiting for you at the door, all too pleased to see you, as though he hadn’t just five minutes before. “Made it?”

“Yeah, I don’t think they—”

“Well damn, goodbye to you guys too!” Rooster calls from across the bar. Obviously having noticed your departure, the Dagger Squad is all standing around the pool table, shaking their heads in varying levels of amused disapproval.

Payback crosses his arms. “You guys make me sick.”

Opening the door for you, Jake turns and tips his imaginary cowboy hat at them with an grin. “Sorry man. If you all will excuse me, I’ve got some riding to do.”

#top gun maverick #top gun fic #topgun maverick #jake seresin x y/n #jake hangman fic #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin #top gun maverick hangman #jake hangman seresin #hangman top gun #hangman x reader

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