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everlastlady · 7 months

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Sins With Human S/O

✘Posted: 11/8/2023

✘Story Contains: Human gn reader, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Mammon, Fluff, Nsfw, heartbreak, sins just loving their human partner.

✘Word Count: None

✘Author's Note: This has been sitting in the back of my mind for a while so I decided to finally write for y'all. Remember to eat a meal or a snack, drink some water, get some fresh air, take your medicine, and remember that you are loved. If you loved this story remember to comment, click or tap that heart button, reblog with tags, and blaze if you can. Always remember to support your local writers. ♡♡♡

Asmodeus:

You had met Asmodeus when you were trying to make a deal with a demon to get your ex back. You wanted a simple demon but you accidentally summoned the big man himself, Asmodeus, of course he was confused on how you summoned him. Because it’s usually a meeting thing but you summoned him upon command. He would have been mad because he’s a busy man; but when he locked eyes with you. He thought you were a sight for sore eyes so he asked you what you wanted and why you had summoned him. With teary eyes, you told him that you wanted your ex back, you told him how your ex cheated on you with your best friend. The reason he cheated and left you was because of your body, that you were boring, and annoying. Now Asmodeus didn’t know your ex but seeing that you were all teary eyed over some asshole made Asmodeus upset. The lust lord sat on your bed almost breaking it. But he patted a spot next to him. You tilted your head in confusion but sat down with him. Asmodeus took his time hitting you with harsh reality. “ You can’t force someone to be with you. Sometimes people will come into our life and stay while others leave. But it’s good when the bad people leave, and that guy you were dating is a real asshole; honey, you don’t need him at all. Let me be the one to show you what love actually is. Because I think you look beautiful just the way you are. “ Asmodeus offered his hand. You weren’t sure about this but you decided to give Asmodeus a chance - what started as a beautiful friendship and the king of lust showing you about what love really is soon turned into a relationship.

Asmodeus is no stranger or idiot when it comes to humans. So when he started dating you and visiting you. He would of course go up in his human form. The brown skin male with the long red and blue braids will always greet you with a smile. He’s still bigger than you, which you don’t mind. Though he does like going back into his actual form in the comfort of your home. Asmodeus loves your home, it’s cozy and quiet. He sometimes does his work here or reads a book there. He’ll bring you flowers everyday so now you have a little garden in the back of your home and a couple of flowers in your home, that don’t die. Asmodeus is always there to tell you good morning and goodnight. Sadly he can’t take you to Hell but he tells you all about Hell. “ Yeah, babe, it’s not really how movies depict it. “ He laughs at the questions or theories you have on Hell.

His guilt pleasure with you in the human world is when. It’s a cold day and raining, the two of you have the fireplace going and are snuggling on the couch in a large light blue heavy weighted blanket, drinking hot chocolate, and watching romantic comedies. Of course the two of you have the best snacks and foods on the table. Asmodeus loves to have you on his lap whether he’s in his human form or demon form. Moments like this make Asmodeus happy because he loves the rain and spending time with you. “ I gotta give it to you humans, you guys know how to make a good romantic comedy… sometimes. “ Asmodeus would place kisses on your head, neck, and cheek during the movie.

Your ex eventually shows up trying to get back with you. But when the door opened up, Asmodeus was standing there and he recognized your ex, when your ex asked who Asmdodeus was, the lust king grins. “ My name is Toby, I’m {Name}, boyfriend, you must be that shit ass ex they told me about. “ Asmodeus glared at your ex, who stood there looking up as Asmodeus who stood there in his human form. Your ex peeked in to see that you were wearing a long dark blue t-shirt that belonged to Asmodeus. “ {Name}! “ You ex called out for you, trying to get inside your home but Asmodeus blocked his way and pushed him outside. Closing the door behind them both; you stood there drinking from your mug hearing screaming that belonged to your ex. After a couple of minutes Asmodeus walked back inside. “ He shouldn’t bother you anymore. “ Asmodeus placed a kiss on your nose as you chuckled.

He eventually shows you pictures and videos of Hell. “ This is the ring of Hell. I owe the Lust ring, it always rains there. Here is a video of me and my friend Fizzarolli messing with some Imp because they were singing a love song at my place of business “Asmodeus laughed. But you looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “ I know I’m a hypocrite. “ Asmodeus crossed his arms. " But I had to keep a reputation cause Hell. " Asmodeus rolled his eyes. You kissed his cheek to let him know that you understand.

Sex with Asmodeus is fucking amazing. This man is the king of lust so he knows how to make your body scream and cream with pleasure. Sometimes you have to take a time out because you are a trembling mess. Asmodeus will cover you in hickies. But he's gentle with you when it comes to sex; he'll only be rough if you ask. He's also not afraid to test out any kinks yoi have. After sex, you'll receive the best aftercare. A bubble bath, while Asmodeus tells you how good you were during sex. He'll make you a nice snack and get you some water because liquids are very important after sex. He'll change the sheets and then place you in bed. After he cleans himself up, he'll cuddle with you in bed.

Beelzebub:

Your friends invited you to a party. You weren't really a party person but you decided to go because you could use a fun night out. So as your friends were dancing, you walked over to the snack table. The host of the party. Trevor always threw amazing parties because he was rich, so the snack table always had such delightful goodies. So when you saw that there was one last slice of cheesecake you went for it, only for someone else to go for it. You looked up to see a tall woman with long blonde mess hair that had some blue and pink streaks. She was wearing a pink shirt with a tye dye heart on it and some matching shorts. She was tall woman with crazy black eyeliner and beautiful pink eyes. " Oh? Did you want this, you can have it. " She let go of the plate of cheesecake. Her smile could light up a room. She gave you one last smile before grabbing another snack and walking off. You stayed by the snack table eating the cheesecake, after a while the party became too much for you. The music was now blasting, the colorful flashing lights hurt your eyes, and loud chatter was making you feel overwhelmed. You couldn't even find your friends, you began to panic until you felt someone grab your hand and pull you outside, away from the loud party. The night sky looked more peaceful, you looked over to see the woman you met earlier at the snack table. " You okay, small fry? " She asked. While handing you a water bottle. You smiled and nodded not knowing that this moment soon became a friendship and soon a relationship.

Beelzebub is the sweetest girlfriend. Even when she revealed to you that she was the queen bee of Gluttony when showing off her demon form. She expected you to run off screaming, but no you love her even more. You find her lava lamp tummy, really cool. Beelzebub tells you that she only comes to the human world to party with humans, she is the reason such amazing parties happen. But now she always comes up to see you. She always brings you food or snacks when she comes to hell and these are things from Hell. Which you become fascinating with the meals in Hell. Beelzebub understands that you don't really like parties so if you ever want to leave a party early, she understands and will leave with you.

Her guilty pleasure is playing video games with you. So the two of you have a game night. With the best snacks, you two play all times of games. She loves playing fighting games with you like Mortal Kombat or Smash Bros. " Shit, honey, you always win but one day, I'll win. " She teases. She also loves to do tye dye with you, a fun peaceful activity for the two of you.

She doesn't let anyone hit on you at a party or make you feel uncomfortable. Last creep that tried some funny shit got punch into the table by bee. " Don't touch, my damn partner! " Bee would try her best not to shift out of her humanity form because she doesn't want to scare anyone at the party.

Bee shows you pictures and videos from her parties in Hell. She wishes that she could attend these parties but humans aren't allowed in Hell. But she let's you taste some of Beelzebub juice that she made and it taste good. That you have a bottle in your fridge. Good thing none of your friends touch it because you ask them not to do so. Beelzebub juice does nothing to humans but make them have party energy.

Sex with Beelzebub is sweet as honey. She puts the sweetness in her love, you also know it's time for sex when Beelzebub appears behind you with a can of whip cream or sometimes honey. Beelzebub is sucker for licking and sucking things off of you. She's a pro with her tongue and fingers. She loves to be on top, to be dominant. She could be a soft dom or a rough dom, it all depends on what you ask her. Aftercare is always something Bee never forgets. She'll sit in the tub with you and wash you up while talking about what plans you two could have tomorrow. After caring for you both; she will cuddle up with you in bed while watching some tv.

Mammon:

You were having trouble with money, especially after leaving your parents home because you were sick of them controlling your life. The job you took wasn't really grand especially since your boss was horrible and a creep. So you ended up quitting so with bills piling up, you became desperate and decided to try and strike a deal with Mammon the demon of greed. After obtaining a book from a sketchy guy in a van. You went home and set everything up, after lighting the candles and doing the chant. You sat there for a couple of seconds and nothing. With a sigh of defeat you decided to heat up some leftovers; you walk into the kitchen but stopped when you saw a large jester like spider going through your fridge. You cleared your throat, and he turned around. " Oh! Hey there, you know your fridge looks pretty sad mate; probably why you summoned me, which I'm surprised that shit worked. " Mammon slammed the fridge close and walked up to you. When getting a closer look at you, his face felt hot. " You ain't so bad looking for a human. " He said. You weren't sure if you should be offended or not. " Well let's get this deal going, the more time I spend standing here, I loose money. " Mammon picked you up, not knowing this was the start of an interesting relationship.

Now you didn't expect to be dating Mammon and Mammon didn't expect to be dating you. But he didn't mind having you as a partner. You were quite sassy and took no shit from him. You knew all his bullshit and tricks. So he could never pull a fast one over. Mammon does spoil you a lot, to the point you don't really have to work. You always see that Mammon has some how put money into your bank account and that your bills have been paid. No tricks, just him being a sweet boyfriend with a shit eating grin. Anything you want he'll buy it so that you don't have to worry.

Has a human form like the others. The chubby Australian man loves holding your hand when you two are out in public. His black hair that had green streaks. He wore a long sleeve green shirt under neath his black jacket and had black pants. You thought he looked handsome, Mammon knows he's handsome. Cheeky asshole. But he takes you to any shops or food places you want or theme parks. " I should build a Disneyland in Hell. I'll call it Mammon world and charge $500 for a ticket. " He would go on about what it would have. You would playfully roll your eyes and listen to your boyfriend talk about his plans for this theme park and the outrageous prices.

His guilty pleasure with you, is doing absolutely nothing... Yup, Mammon is working man. But when he's with you, he gets a break so he loves to just lay in bed with you and cuddle. He'll rest in his face into the crook of your neck while sleeping. He holds onto you tight, but not to tight because he doesn't want to break you. But he enjoys these moments of naps and cuddles with you. Even if you are awake, he'll still be asleep by you.

No one should piss off Mammon, so when he hears about how your ex boss harassed you out of the store because you went to do some shopping. So that night when you fell asleep, Mammon paid your boss a visit. That morning when you were cooking breakfast for you and Mammon, you turned on the news and saw that your boss was murdered. You knew it was Mammon because he used your bosses blood to paint his symbol on your boss's office wall. You turned around as Mammon was whistling innocently. " .... He's in Hell in my ring, so he'll suffer more. " Mammon said and went back to whistling. You nodded your head went back to cooking not wanting to show Mammon your smirk.

Yes, Mammon is a greedy bastard but he's not greedy when it comes to sex. He loves to give you the best of the best. The highest quality of pleasure - he will use the four arms, because those four arms work wonders. Sorry but he can't control the honking during sex when he's pounding into you, so you'll have to deal with the honk when he's hitting it from the back or front. After sex, he'll give you after care and wash you up. " That was fun, we should do that again but next time on my web, I could tie ya up and maybe a blind fold. " Mammon could go on but eventually stops after you two end up in bed cuddling while Mammon places kisses on your head, telling you that you are the best thing that has ever happened to him and he wouldn't trade you for any amount of money.

#helluva boss #hazbin hotel #helluva asmodeus #helluva beelzebub #helluva mammon #helluva asmodeus x reader #helluva beelzebub x reader #helluva mammon x reader #helluva x reader #helluva fandom #helluva fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #helluva everlasting #everlasting writes🪻

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slut4thebroken · 7 months

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Exposure Therapy pt. 12

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x reader

Summary | Jon comes home to find you crying and in a moment of weakness, you make a mistake.

Warnings | Sexual content, 18+, smut, pregnancy scare, post panic attack?, angst, comfort, body worship?, deep throating, fingering, vaginal sex, breeding, disgusting fluff

Words | 4.3k

Notes | I recommend grabbing a barf bag before proceeding because the fluff in this is absolutely nauseating. (Also I’m reusing gifs now I guess😭)

Ao3 link | <3

Fic Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Part 11

The front door opened softly, then shut just as quiet, and you held your breath as you listened for his footsteps. He called your name, presumably walking around the apartment to find you. Then the handle on the bathroom door jiggled, but it wouldn’t open.

“Don’t come in.” You croaked, even though it was locked anyway.

“Are you crying? What happened?” He sounded significantly more worried now, which only made you feel worse.

“Nothing, I- I’m just.. going to the bathroom.” You muttered weakly, hugging your legs tighter to your chest.

“Please let me in, little one.” You let out a quiet sob and buried your face in your knees. After a moment, you heard the door crack open and you lifted your head as he walked in, pocketing his keys. You cursed at yourself for not remembering that these kinds of door handle locks can be turned from the outside.

“What happened?” He kneeled next to you and brushed your hair away from your face to see you better as his other hand gently wiped the tears off your cheeks.

“I- I threw up.” You said through a sob, feeling your chest start to tighten and your breathing start to come in short pants again.

“That’s why you’re crying?” You knew he didn’t understand it yet.

“Jon, I threw up.” You gave him a knowing look as you bit your trembling lip, waiting for him to figure it out. His lips parted and his eyes just barely widened, so you gave him a pained smile before looking at your knees again.

“Do you still feel sick?”

“Not because of that.” You muttered, mostly sure that you were nauseous from anxiety and fear now, rather than actual morning sickness. He helped you to your feet and brought you over to the sink, instructing you to just rinse your mouth out a little so you didn’t have to keep tasting it. When you finished, he led you to the bed and pulled you onto it, letting you lay over him as he wrapped his arms around your torso.

“You can take a test, then we’ll go from there, okay?” He said softly, placing a kiss on your hair.

“What about after that? It’s not like I can exactly just walk into a clinic now.”

“I know a doctor who owes me a favor. I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Jon.” The exhaustion was clear in your voice, especially now that you were laying down, in his arms.

“Regardless, I’m still sorry you had to go through that alone. I won’t leave your side until we have it figured out.”

“You don’t have to do that… I overreacted.”

“I’d hardly call having a panic attack over a very valid fear overreacting.” He scoffed teasingly, making the corners of your lips turn up a little.

“Still, if I would’ve just thought it through for a moment I wouldn’t have spiraled.”

“They’re called irrational fears for a reason, darling.”

“You keep doing that.” You muttered, cheeks burning.

“Doing what?”

“Calling me new names.”

“You like them.” He said simply, as if that explained the total switch from reluctantly calling you one name, to now using multiple, voluntarily.

“But you don’t…” The way you said it made it sound like a question, but he didn’t answer. You did, however, hear his heart rate increase slightly. “Do you?” You asked skeptically, practically able to feel the way he probably rolled his eyes.

“It’s tolerable.” He muttered and you lifted your head to look at him, finding the tiniest hint of a smile on his lips.

“God- you’re such a softie.” You mumbled, laying back down, biting back a grin. He scoffed in response.

“Once you’re feeling better, we’ll see if you still think I’m a softie.” The seductive tone made your stomach flutter.

“Sex doesn’t count. That’s pretend.” After a moment of silence, he seemed to realize you won this round because the only response you got was a huff.

You laid there silently, listening to his heart beating and trying to feel the warmth of his chest beneath his suit. His hand moved up to lightly play with your hair and scratch your head, making your eyes flutter shut as you smiled.

“Feels good.” You mumbled against him, eyes growing incredibly heavy all of a sudden.

“Are you tired?” He asked quietly and you hummed in agreement. “Go to sleep, little one. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He placed another kiss on top of your head, making your heart flutter.

“Thanks. Love you.” You mumbled, words slurring together. His hand froze and he stiffened beneath you, but it barely registered in your exhausted brain. He placed another kiss on your head, this one longer and gentler, then continued petting your hair, his heart pounding much louder in his chest now.

Despite getting a few hours of sleep, you still felt tired and drained when you woke up, more than likely because of your extremely long and intense crying session. The second you realized that all you felt were the sheets, you opened your eyes and reached out on the bed, feeling for him.

“Jon?” You mumbled, trying to get your eyes to adjust to the light.

“I’m here.” You turned over and found him sitting on the bed next to you, now in sweatpants and a shirt, with some papers on his lap.

“God- I feel like shit.” You groaned, letting your head drop into the pillow.

“I left water for you on the nightstand. Do you want anything else?” Fuck— water sounds amazing right now. Keeping your head buried in the pillow, you blindly reached for the nightstand and moved your hand around until you met the bottle sitting there. You barely lifted your head enough to chug the drink.

“I hate crying, I always feel so gross and tired after.” You grumbled, setting the bottle back on the nightstand.

“You seem to be in a better mood despite that.” He noted. You laid back down on the pillow and placed a hand on his bicep, wanting to touch him, but still trying to let him work.

“I trust you and I know you’re going to help me figure it out.” You let your eyes fall shut, listening to his pen gliding across the paper.

“Are you okay with a normal test? Or would you prefer to get tested at the doctor's office.”

“Um…” You bit your lip, feeling embarrassed about your answer. False negatives on drugstore tests are not uncommon. Plus you just trust an ‘official’ test more. He seemed to pick up on what you were thinking though.

“I’ll take you.”

“Thanks.” Your heart suddenly dropped when you got hit with deja vu. “Thanks. Love you.” Oh fuck.

Oh fuck.

Clearing your throat, you tried to organize your thoughts and not panic. Maybe he didn’t hear it? He doesn’t seem upset so maybe he did hear it but he doesn’t care? Because he didn’t say it back… Is that why he’s not laying with you anymore and laying beside you instead?

He shushed you softly and placed his hand over yours on his arm.

“I didn’t say anything…”

“Not aloud, no.” Sometimes it’s a little unnerving how easily he can read you. Should you apologize? Take it back? He would’ve said it back by now if he felt the same way though… You tried not to tear up at the thought, but it made your chest ache and you couldn’t help it.

“I- I didn’t mean… I said that by accident. I didn’t mean to.” You said weakly. The pen on the paper suddenly stopped and you held your breath, waiting to be yelled at or left alone.

“You didn’t mean to say it or you didn’t mean it?” He asked quietly. You bit your lip and angled your face more toward the pillow because you could practically feel his eyes on your head.

“Um…” You did mean it. And you’re pretty sure he knows that. This felt like one of those moments that would change the way everything goes from here. If you tell him the truth, he either feels the same way, or he doesn’t. If you lie, he’ll either be relieved or disappointed. You’re not sure which option is more worth the risk.

“It’s okay if you didn’t mean it.” What the fuck does that mean?

“Did you want me to mean it?” He just paused, then sighed quietly at your response. He was silent for so long that you could practically hear your heart breaking. “Let’s just- forget about it. Pretend it never happened… I’m sorry for saying it in the first place, I shouldn’t have.” Taking in a shaky breath, you realized that your eyes were completely blurry with tears that were on the verge of falling any second now. You quickly sat up and started moving toward the edge of the bed to get up and go to the bathroom, but he stopped you with a hand on your wrist.

“Where are you going?”

“…The bathroom?” Your voice trembled embarrassingly, making you feel worse about all of this. When you tried pulling away, his grip tightened, but not enough to actually hurt you.

“Yes.” He said, voice strained.

“What?”

“I… I want you to have meant it.”

“You don’t have to say that just to make me feel better,”

“I’m not.” He said firmly, cutting you off. “I- I… feel the same.” You turned back around and he looked down once he met your gaze. You’ve never heard him stumble over his words like this.

“Are you fucking with me?” Your tone was harsher now, a warning. If he was lying or making fun of you… you’re not afraid to go find your wristband with his toxin and use it on him.

“Do you really think I would do that?” He scoffed in what might’ve been amusement.

“Answer me.”

“No, I’m not.” He sighed. “I just— Don’t expect me to be able to say it. I haven’t since I was a child.” The thought made you frown. He probably didn’t say it to his family as a child based on what he told you, but he’s never had anyone in his adult life that he felt that way about?

“You’ve never had any girlfriends or anything?” You asked, trying to get rid of your frown so he didn’t take it the wrong way.

“Believe it or not, I wasn’t very popular with women. I’m still not.” Even though part of you can believe that, another part is just completely surprised that he hasn’t had one girlfriend.

“How?? You’re smart and kinky and funny and kind and pretty and you have fluffy hair. How has no one been interested?” His cheeks turned pink and he looked away from you again.

“Most people don’t agree with my… line of work.”

“I see… Well that’s their loss.” You shrugged, making the corners of his lips turn up.

“You think I’m pretty?” He suddenly asked, making you smile.

“I think you’re very pretty.” You crawled toward him and moved the papers away so you could sit on his lap, his hands lightly holding your hips. “Your lips are so pink and soft,” You said quietly, cupping his cheek and trailing your thumb over them, “and I don’t even know how it’s possible to have bone structure like this.” You softly trailed your fingers over his cheekbones, staring at them in awe and feeling how warm his cheeks were getting. “And you have freckles. They’re really faint, but I like them a lot.” You brushed your fingers across his nose and cheeks, following the path of freckles.

“Your eyes are pretty too.” You gently removed his glasses and set them on top of the papers. “Mesmerizing.” You muttered, absentmindedly, as your gaze shifted between his eyes. He looked away from you, snapping you out of the trance you were in.

“Why do you think I had such a big crush on you after we first met?” You chuckled, making him look at you again.

“You did?”

“Yes, you dork. Honestly, it was a little embarrassing. You made me so nervous.” Now it was your turn to blush a little.

“I thought you were just nervous because of the.. usual topic of our discussions.”

“It was a bit of both.” There was a lull in the conversation, so you decided to change the subject. “You know what else I think is pretty?” He didn’t give you a verbal response, trying to seem nonchalant about it. Placing your hands on his chest, you snaked them down his stomach to his pants, teasing the waistband. “Your cock.” You smirked, carefully studying his reaction. Which was worth it because for half a second, he was flustered and surprised before he schooled his face into a more neutral expression.

“How on earth can that be pretty?” He scoffed, cheeks glowing red now.

“You tell me, doctor.” You said teasingly. His hands started dragging down your thighs, then back up to your hips. “How about I compliment it properly, hm?” You moved down to sit over his thighs and grabbed the waistband of his sweatpants, waiting for him to stop you, but he never did. So you kept going, only pulling them down to his mid thigh.

It didn’t take long for you to stroke him to full hardness as you laid on your stomach between his legs. When you kissed the tip of his cock and licked up the bead of precum, he let out a shaky breath and placed a gentle hand on the back of your head.

“You get so pink,” you said quietly, mouthing at the head of his cock, “and there’s this vein down here,” you licked a long stripe up the bottom of his cock, over the vein, “it’s so fucking hot.” You whispered. Glancing up at him, you noticed that his cheeks were even more red now as he stared down at you in almost awe.

Wanting to tease him, you kissed down his cock until you reached his balls and started licking and kissing them gently. Your hand was still holding his cock, but it was unmoving. When his hips bucked, you couldn’t help but smirk against him.

“Be patient, Jon.” You reprimanded softly.

“Stop being a tease.” He said through a breath, making you pull away with a pout.

“Jonny, please just let me take my time. Haven’t had you in my mouth in so long.” You whined, looking up at him with puppy dog eyes. He cursed under his breath and let his head fall back until it hit the headboard quietly.

“Stop calling me that.” The weak demand was the only protest you got, so you leaned back down to continue.

“But I like calling you Jonny. Makes your face so red.” You giggled quietly, barely pulling away to speak. As you mouthed at his balls, he threaded his fingers through your hair and lightly grabbed it, not moving you at all though.

“Red from annoyance maybe.” He grumbled, making you smile. When you sucked one of his balls in your mouth, his breath caught in his throat and his grip tightened just the slightest amount. You released his cock, letting it rest on his stomach, and he huffed as the barest amount of stimulation went to no stimulation. You pulled off with a wet pop and looked up at him through your lashes.

“Are you sure, Jonny?” You asked innocently, but your grin turned outright devious when his cock twitched on his stomach. He rolled his eyes with a scoff.

“That means nothing.” He muttered, gently pushing your head back down. You decided to give him a break from the teasing and focus on the task at hand. Sucking the other one in your mouth, you picked up his cock and stroked slowly, forcing a shaky breath out of him as he ran his fingers through your hair, letting you have full control. If he keeps acting like this, you’re going to get on a total power trip— especially after the last time you had sex. Maybe not a dominant power trip, but a power trip nonetheless.

You continued licking and kissing and sucking, all while slowly stroking him and savoring his soft sounds. After another moment, you decided to kiss back up his cock until you reached the tip. When you licked the bead of precum, he cursed under his breath and you smiled to yourself, licking the head of his cock again just to tease him.

“C’mon.” He urged quietly, not yet forcing you though. When you held the base of his cock and mouthed at the tip, he all but whined as he squirmed under you. “Please, little one.” You barely heard it, but you knew you didn’t hallucinate it.

“You’re being so patient, Jonny.” You said proudly, making his cock jump in your hand. “I promise I’ll start soon, I just wanna enjoy this first.” He let out a quiet sigh when you continued licking and sucking on the tip, never going any lower.

“Baby, please.” He whined, making you moan around him. Something about that pet name is just different than the others and you couldn’t help but give in.

“Okay, Jonny.” You gave him a small smile before leaning back down and wrapping your lips around him, immediately taking him half way. Your hand stayed at the base as you bobbed up and down.

“Fuck… Good girl.” He said through a breath. His fingers threaded through your hair again, but he didn’t take control yet. When your hand slipped down to cup his balls and you took him deeper in your mouth, he let out a choked moan as his hips flinched up, making you gag. He didn’t verbally apologize, he just brought his other hand up to gently pet your head as you continued.

You took him deeper and deeper each time until his cock was hitting the back of your mouth. When you reached up and put your hand on top of the one he had in your hair, pushing down on it, he cursed under his breath, but complied eagerly. His cock breached your throat barrier and you choked as he let out a low groan.

“So fucking good.” He groaned and if you were able to make any sounds, you would’ve whined at the praise. He pulled you off and let you catch your breath. While you panted, you stroked his cock, looking up at him and he cursed under his breath at the sight of you, then moved you back onto his cock.

He fucked your throat slowly, but pushed you all the way down everytime, making you gag as saliva and tears started building up. When he pushed you down and held you there, you tried to control your gag reflex so you could stay like this, but you weren’t successful. You couldn’t pull off so you placed your hands on his thighs and tried harder, but he just grabbed your hand in his free one and held it, letting you squeeze to ground yourself.

He removed the pressure and you shot up with a gasp, trying to calm down quickly so you could keep going. His thumb was rubbing back and forth on your hand, soothing you while simultaneously making your stomach flutter.

“Come up here, little one.” He said softly, making you frown.

“But ‘m not done.” You pouted, making the corners of his lips turn up into a small smile.

“I know, darling, but I don’t want to come in your mouth.” His tone was far too sweet for the words that left his mouth. You glanced at his cock with a blush, then looked back up at him and nodded.

“Okay.” You got up on your knees and started pushing his shirt up, making him stiffen a little. When you reached his chest, you told him to take it off and he obeyed. Instead of settling on his lap, you stayed between his legs and snaked your hands back down his torso. The scars littering his body made you frown, especially now that you knew where most of them were from. When you leaned down to kiss one, his body went completely stiff under you, making you pause.

“What are you doing?” His tone was guarded and a little harsh, and you faltered.

“I- I’m sorry. I don’t have to.” You said quietly, pulling away more to look up at him. He stared down at you with apprehension, looking like he was having an internal battle in his mind about what he wanted. Even after he relaxed a little, you still waited, only moving when he gave you a small nod.

You just barely pressed your lips to the raised skin, still worried you were making him uncomfortable. When he didn’t go stiff or push you away, you continued. You kissed most of the scars on his stomach, going up to his chest. You reached the highest one, just below his collar bone, and finally straddled his legs. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you leaned down to kiss him and his hands settled on your hips.

One of his hands snaked over your stomach and down until he reached your underwear. He slipped his hand inside and cursed under his breath at your obvious arousal. When he started rubbing slow circles on your clit, you whined into the kiss and squirmed on his lap.

“Fuck me.” You whispered, making his grip tighten on your hip.

“You’re not ready yet.” He replied, just as quietly, then started trailing kisses over your jaw and down to your neck to darken the fading bruises.

“Please, Jonny… s’too empty.” You whimpered, grinding against his hand.

“Soon, little one.” You huffed and he bit down on your skin, making you wince, but grind harder against him. He slipped your shirt over your head, then leaned forward, taking your nipple in his mouth and sucking gently.

“Please— ‘m ready…” You whined. All he did was switch to the other nipple to give it the same treatment. When he finally pulled back and removed his hand, you threaded your fingers through his hair, pulling lightly. He suddenly grabbed your panties with both hands and ripped them clean off your body, making you gasp out a moan.

“I liked those…” You whined, pouting.

“I’ll buy you more.” He didn’t actually roll his eyes, but his tone made it seem like he was about to. When he lined his cock up with your entrance, your breath caught in your throat and you waited anxiously. “Relax.” He whispered, pulling you down to kiss you again. Your body obeyed and as soon as he felt your muscles loosen up, he pulled you down onto him, making you both moan into the kiss. It was still a little tight, and there was a faint burning sensation, but it satisfied every part of you that was needing to feel full.

He started pulling your hips forward and back, rocking you against him slowly until you picked up the pace on your own. When he pulled away from the kiss, you whined, but he ignored you and just brushed your hair out of your face, then cupped your cheek.

“Say it again.” He said through a breath, making you furrow your brows in confusion.

“What?”

“Say it. Please.” His eyes bored into yours with an almost desperate look that you weren’t used to, that’s when it finally clicked. You stared down at him, trying to ignore the overwhelming feeling of his cock inside you and focus on getting the words out, but it was hard. Even though you’re the more vulnerable one in this relationship, you’re still not used to it.

“I—” You choked out, unable to finish.

“Please, little one.” He whispered, squeezing your hip a little harder. So you took a deep breath and tried again.

“I love you,” The words were still foreign on your tongue. He let out a shaky breath and pulled you back down into a kiss, making you moan at the suddenness.

“Again.” He mumbled against your lips.

“I love you.” Your movements were growing more eager and he moved his hand down to rub your clit, bringing you closer to the edge. “I love you, Jon.” He had to separate from the kiss as he panted, but he kept his forehead pressed to yours.

“I—” He started, making your heart skip a beat. But his breathing quickly grew more labored and you could tell it was out of anxiety rather than arousal.

“I know. You don’t have to say it yet.” You whispered, even though your entire being was craving the opposite. He didn’t seem convinced that that was enough, so you added, “I love you too.”

Too.

Because he loves you.

He loves you and you love him too.

Your orgasm hit you suddenly and you moaned and whined as you writhed in his lap. His eyes fluttered shut and his grip got even tighter on your hip as his release crashed over him. Through the almost intense orgasm, you could feel hot come painting your walls, adding to your already overwhelming pleasure. When it finally passed and you were both panting, he pushed your hair that had fallen forward out of your face and cupped your cheek again, running his thumb over your bottom lip.

“Do you really mean it?” He asked quietly, looking up at you nervously. You moved your hands from his hair to the sides of his head and held him there gently, not letting him look away.

“Yes. More than anything.” You whispered, watching his eyes flutter as he swallowed thickly. “Do you really mean it?”

“Yes.” He didn’t even hesitate this time.

Part 13

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throneofsmut · 2 months

Text

BOUND IN FLAMES - Part 11

Eris Vanserra × Archeron-Sister- Reader

Description: Feyre and her younger sister go hunting in the forest behind their family's cottage and go through life changing experiences.

Warnings: Pretty gruesome descriptions of violence and injury and lots of unaliving (i think thats all of it)

Authors Note: i swear i was going to post this part right after part 10 but i couldn't figure out the fight scene for the life of me and then once i did i kept rewriting but i hope you guys like this part and btw im gonna be going back editing the parts that have already been posted

Word Court: 7.5k

****

“How long has Wesley been in Summer?” You ask Raihn as you shift, settling into his side since he was curled up behind you.

Not long. I’ve been tracking him for the past month—

You whirled, your eyes narrowed into slits, “Month!? He’s been here a whole month?”

Yes.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Because I wanted to track his movements, his habits before we did anything—before you did anything. Before you did anything reckless.

Crossing your arms, huffing, “Fine. But, tomorrow night I’m going to Summer. With or without you.”

All right, tomorrow night. Raihn agreed, knowing you would leave him behind if you had to.

Settling further into him, titling your face up at the stars—at the night sky. “Raihn, let’s stay here for the night?”

As you wish, Sunshine. He moved, coiling himself closer around you, keeping you warm—safe. Why don’t you want to go back to the manor?

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

His body tensed, Who do I have to kill?

“No one.” You sighed, “me probably.”

What happened? His voice was calm, demanding, the way it always was before he killed someone. Which he had to do a few times when you were growing up, you’ve been hunted by Amarantha since you were in your mother’s womb.

You turned to look at him, “It was my fault. I started it, I—“

I don’t care about what you did. What did the other one do? His blue eyes glinted with the promise of violence.

“Raihn, please… let it go. I’ve had a long day and I just want to rest.”

He didn’t say anything for a long time, he just kept watching you. Fine, he relented. Sleep, you’re safe with me.

“Always am.”

You drifted off not long after, his steady breaths lulling you to sleep.

****

The next morning, you made your trek back to the manor. Content to just listen to the birds and trees singing. It was almost as if in greeting as you walked through the Spring Court. Raihn said that they were happy you were walking among them as the heir of Spring.

You were close enough to the garden that you heard Feyre’s tins and brushes clatter to the gravel. Close enough for you to scent her fear.

Without a second thought you ran to her side, Raihn trailing close behind, as she stared at the fountain.

No, not the fountain, but the head spiked to it.

A bleeding High Fae male head—spiked atop the fountain statue of a great heron flapping its wings. The stone was soaked in enough blood to suggest that the head had been fresh when someone had impaled it on the heron’s upraised bill.

Instantly, your eyes scanned the area around you, taking in every detail, looking for any signs of movement. Nothing. Even when you tried scenting who had put the head on the fountain, nothing.

“Feyre,” You said softly so as not to startle her, her hand immediately clamped around your arm so tight you thought she’d break her fingers.

You didn’t need to ask Raihn to check the perimeter—he was already gone as Feyre and you continued to stare at that still-screaming head, the brown eyes bulging, the teeth broken and bloody. No mask—so he wasn’t part of the Spring Court. Anything else about him, you couldn’t discern.

His blood was so bright on the gray stone—his mouth open so vulgarly. You took a step forward and Feyre tried pulling you back, but slammed into something—someone.

She whirled, hands rising out of instinct, but Tamlin’s voice said, “It’s me,” and she stopped cold. Lucien stood beside him, pale and grim.

“Not Autumn Court,” Lucien said. “I don’t recognize him at all.”

Tamlin’s hands clamped on her shoulders as you turned back toward the head. “Neither do I.” A soft, vicious growl laced his words, but no claws pricked her skin as he kept gripping her. His hands tightened, though, while Lucien stepped into the small pool in which the statue stood—striding through the red water until he peered up at the anguished face.

“They branded him behind the ear with a sigil,” Lucien said, swearing. “A mountain with three stars—”

“Night Court,” Tamlin said too quietly.

You tensed. Fuck.

“Why. . . why would they do this?” Feyre asked.

Tamlin let go of her shoulder, coming to stand between you as Lucien climbed the statue to remove the head.

“The Night Court does what it wants,” Tamlin said.“They live by their own codes, their own corrupt morals.”

Your hands curled into fists as you fought to keep your temper in check.

“They’re all sadistic killers,” Lucien added. “They delight in torture of every kind—and would find this sort of stunt to be amusing.”

You dared a step forward, body moving on its own, but Raihn stopped you. Don’t.

You blew out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Willing yourself to relax.

“Amusing, but not a message?” Feyre asked as she scanned the garden.

“Oh, it’s a message,” Lucien said, and she cringed at the thick, wet sounds of flesh and bone on stone as he yanked the head off. You’d both skinned enough animals, but this. . . Tamlin put another hand on her shoulder. “To get in and out of our defenses, to possibly commit the crime nearby, with the blood this fresh. . . ” A splash as Lucien landed in the water again. “It’s exactly what the High Lord of the Night Court would find amusing. The bastard.”

Rhysand. Your uncle.

You gauged the distance between the pool and the house. Sixty, maybe seventy feet. That’s how close they’d come to them. To Feyre. Tamlin brushed a thumb against her shoulder. “You’re still safe here. This was just their idea of a prank.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes.

“This isn’t connected to the blight?” Feyre asked.

“Only in that they know the blight is again awakening—and want us to know they’re circling the Spring Court like vultures, should our wards fall further.” Feyre looked as sick as you all felt, because Tamlin added, “I won’t let that happen.”

You scoffed.

He pinned you with a glare, “Do you not believe me, Y/n?”

Turning your body to face him straight on, you pointed at his mask, “The mask on your face makes it fairly clear that you can’t do a fucking thing against the blight.” He stared at you—fighting to keep his temper in check to not upset Feyre more than she already was—you stared right back. Unflinching. Even as his claws slid free.

Lucien splashed out of the fountain, “They’ll get what’s coming to them soon enough. Hopefully the blight will wreck them, too.” Tamlin growled at Lucien to take care of the head, and the gravel crunched as Lucien departed.

Tamlin’s eyes didn’t leave yours until Feyre crouched to pick up her paints and brushes. He knelt next to her, his hands closed around hers, squeezing. “You’re still safe,” he promised to her again. And you rolled your eyes.

Feyre didn’t say anything, her eyes flicked to you and then back down to her brushes—to her hands that were still shaking.

“It’s court posturing,” Tamlin explained. “The Night Court is deadly, but this was only their lord’s idea of a joke. Attacking anyone here—attacking you—would cause more trouble than it’s worth for him. If the blight truly does harm these lands, and the Night Court enters our borders, we’ll be ready.”

“No you won’t.” You muttered as you turned to leave, following the way Lucien went. He stopped as he heard you approaching. The gravel crunching beneath your feet, giving you away.

“What?”

Nodding at the head in his hands, “Let me see it again.”

“Why?”

“Lucien.” He lifted it so you could get a good look at it, he didn’t look familiar, your nostrils flared slightly once. Twice. “He’s from the Winter Court.” You said matter-of-factly.

Lucien’s brows furrowed as he looked at the head closer—examining it. “How do you know?”

You stared at him, incredulous, “You can’t scent the faint hint of crisp snow on him? It’s barely there but it’s there.”

He sniffed once, twice, then he sighed, shaking his head, “No.” Then he turned his focus on you, his head cocked to the side, sizing you up. “Who-what are you?”

“Nobody important.” Certainly not the “Sun of the Night Court.” Certainly not the heir that was promised to save Prythian—to kill Amarantha. Certainly not Tamlin’s daughter. . . his heir.

Lucien prowled closer until you were nearly chest to chest. “You are so full of shit,” he spat. “Are you a bloodhound or something?”

“Or something,” You shrugged—feigning nonchalance.

“You’re a bad friend.”

“I know.” Your voice came out quieter than you meant as you withstood his withering gaze. He stared at you for a few moments longer before turning on his heel going to get rid of the head as Tamlin asked. You just stood there, watching his figure disappear into the Western Woods.

Whoever was here is gone now and they covered their tracks. There’s not even a scent. Raihn said from wherever he was on the grounds. I can go out further if you want me to.

No, I need you to do something else. Go to the Summer Court and watch Wesley. Don’t do anything, just watch him and the others, and I’ll meet you at the border of Spring and Summer after the sun goes down and we’ll go back together.

All right, don’t do anything stupid till I get back.

You mentally rolled your eyes at him.

****

Making your way to the kitchen that was bustling with fae getting lunch ready. They all murmured greetings when they saw you. A fae male with a bird mask asked if you wanted something to eat before lunch was served or if you wanted something in particular for dessert.

“No, thank you sir. But I’m actually looking for Alis.”

He flushed, bowing his head, “I am no sir, Lady Y/n. I am merely a humble servant—”

Shaking your head, “Doesn’t matter. At least, not to me. You treated me with respect so I did the same, sir.”

“Ben.” He said, a shy smile gracing his lips, “My name is Ben.”

You stuck your hand out, “Y/n—just Y/n. I hate being called Lady.”

Ben laughed but hesitated when he saw your hand, “La— I mean Y/n,” he corrected himself, “my hands are dirty.” And they were in fact covered in blood from a buck he was preparing for lunch.

“A little blood doesn’t bother me,” your hand was still outstretched towards him. Ben’s eyes flickered between your hand and his as if in a silent battle with himself. Then he shook your hand, laughing and you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face, “What?” You asked him.

He shook his head, “You’re nothing like I thought you’d be, Princess.” You stiffened at the title—Princess. You don’t know what he must’ve read on your face because he quickly reassured you, “Don’t worry only Alis and I know. We knew your mother. . . she was always kind to us, as are you.” He whispered.

You only nodded.

“Alis is in her room. In the servants quarters in the East Wing of the manor.”

“Thank you, Ben.”

****

As you made your way to Alis’s room, more servants greeted you. Some with a nod, others with a smile. Once you got to the East Wing, you realized you didn’t know which room was hers. You stood in the middle of the hall, trying to listen for her voice, trying to scent her, shaking your head in frustration when you couldn’t.

Then a sentry came out of a room, he had tan skin, tawny eyes and deep rich brown hair. He looked back into the room like he was speaking to someone and a couple seconds later a female’s laugh echoed into the hallway. His face broke out in a grin but when he saw me his brows knitted together and he whispered something too low for you to hear to the female inside the room.

He shut the door and strode towards you. “Are you lost Lady Y/n? Your rooms are located in the—“ He stood less than a foot away from you now.

You were still looking around or trying to at least since the sentry towered over you and his brawny build seemed somehow bulkier in his armor. “West Wing—I know. Where’s Alis’s room?”

He turned and pointed, “Down the hall, take a left, first door on the right.”

You nodded. “Thank you. . .”

“Emmett.” He smiled.

“Thank you, Emmett.”

He bowed his head, “At your service, my lady.” Then he left. You followed his directions, finally finding Alis’s room and knocking.

A few seconds later you heard movement behind her door before she swung it open. She blinked in surprise, “Y/n.”

“I need you to do something for me.” She stepped aside letting you in. “I need you to cover for me.”

Her brows pinched together, her lips pressing into a tight line. “For how long?”

“Just until tonight.”

“Tonight? What are—where are you going?”

“Out.”

She sighed, tilting her head back looking up at the ceiling as she shook her head, “Please don’t tell me you’re going to do something stupid.”

“Of course not,” You grinned.

“Reckless? Dangerous?”

“Well that’s still up for debate.”

“Y/n—“

“Alis, I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t have another choice.”

She was looking at you now. “At least tell me you’re not going alone.”

You shook your head, “Raihn’s coming with me.”

She didn’t say anything for a few minutes before sighing again and rubbing her eyes with her thumb and forefinger. “All right, fine.”

“Thank you, Alis.”

“You never have to thank me, Princ—Y/n. I’ll always help you. . . Now do you need anything else?”

“From you? No. From the armory? Yes.”

She looked up at the ceiling again, “Cauldron, save me.”

You laughed as you made your way to the door, looking back at her, “Thank you, Alis.” You drawled. “I appreciate you.” She muttered something you chose to ignore.

****

It didn’t take you long to find the armory. It was located near the training grounds, not far from the manor.

You just needed to find some fighting leathers, daggers, boots and anything else you might need. Yet, none of it would feel as familiar as the Illyrian fighting leathers or blades you’d been trained with when you were a child. But you’ve done more with less. At least you still had the two ash daggers that your fathers gifted you on the last solstice you all shared.

There were no other sentries near or in the armory that you could detect except for two High Fae males that were currently sparring on the training grounds. They were too focused on each other to see you slip in through the door. It was bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside, probably due to a glamour one of the past High Lords placed.

You couldn’t stop the grin that spread across your face as you took in the entire armory. The wall directly opposite to the door had a small bench pushed up against it with shelves a couple feet above it. Fully stocked with different sized boots, fighting and training leathers.

One of the other walls was full of different weapons: swords, daggers, knives, battle axes, bows, arrows and shields. The last wall had floor to ceiling shelves that held different types of armor: breastplates, helmets, gauntlets, belts and other accessories.

You made quick work of filling an empty crate that was left near the bench with fighting leathers and boots closest to your size. Two leather gauntlets, a bandolier that could hold several daggers and a sword in the back, and a belt that could hold a battle axe.

Both hands were braced on your hips as you looked at the wall with weapons, trying to pick which ones would be the best. You definitely weren’t going to pick a bow and arrow—it’s not your favorite for close combat. So that left only swords, daggers and battle axes.

A simple battle axe caught your eye. The hilt was wrapped with black leather, there wasn’t anything special about the blade itself but it seemed to gleam brighter than any of the others. You picked it up, feeling the balance of it and its weight as you swung it.

The Illyrian part of you so at peace that you hadn’t even realized you closed your eyes. Until you whipped around, throwing it, so close past two sentries heads that were walking in. The same two sentries that you saw sparring.

They both chuckled and then one in the front spoke.“You missed,” he teased.

You gave them a wicked smirk that always put others on edge and they visibly tensed. “Did I?” Your eyes flicked to the sides of their faces, closest to the door frame, where the axe was embedded.

Both sentries reached a hand up to their faces in unison. To the matching slashes on the left sides of their faces—on their cheeks—that was bleeding. Their eyes widening before they let out amused chuckles. “Not bad, Lady Y/n.” The other one said.

Still smirking, you dipped your chin and made your way towards the door, pulling the axe free before dropping it into the crate. And went right back to picking a few daggers. Some straight bladed ones and some curved all the while feeling the sentries eyes on you. Glancing over your shoulder at them, “Do you two need something?”

“N-no.” They said at the same time.

“All right then.” You went on trying to find the right sword. They were all simple but finely crafted and well taken care of. Reaching for one when one of the sentries cleared his throat, making you stop. Turning around to face them fully. “Yes?”

The taller one of the two cleared his throat again, “We think we know the perfect sword for you.”

You tilted your head taking them both in and you realize they both had the same warm brown eyes and gold hair. Cousins? Maybe even brothers. They seemed familiar and not just because you’ve seen them around the manor, but from before. “Why would you two want to give me a sword?”

“It is yours by right.” The other one said.

You didn’t respond, brows pinching together as you nodded slowly, letting his words sink in.

Wordlessly the taller one of the two reached down and picked up the crated you had filled and walked toward the door. Only looking back to make sure that the other sentry and you were following him. You followed him back toward the barracks—where all the sentries stayed while on the grounds. Far apart enough that you didn’t look like you were all walking together.

Once inside the barracks, a few other sentries greeted them, calling them “Bron” and “Hart”. Some simply nodded while others ignored them completely and perked up when they saw you. Walking all the way to the end of the hall and Bron—the taller one—opened the door on the right and you all entered a room. His room.

He set the crate in his hands down on the bed that was pushed into the corner and got down on his knees, pulling out a trunk from beneath it. Hart went to his side and they both pulled several cloaks from it before finally pulling out a sword—your mother’s sword.

You let out a shuddered breath as Bron held it with both hands. “Why do you have that?” Your voice comes out as a whisper.

“We were both there that day. . . we tried to help but we were too late. We looked for you for days to no avail. This”—he looked down at your mother’s sword—“was the only thing we found.” He explained.

Hart’s voice was tight as he added, “Princess Rhaenyra was kind to us—a friend to us. . . Your fathers too.”

As if in a daze you took a step forward and grabbed her sword. You couldn’t stop the tears that fell down my cheeks as you held it. It was a beautiful sword. Slender and elegant made from Illyrian steel, with a black hilt, a gold cross-guard that was shaped as dragon wings with an amethyst the size of a chicken egg in the pommel. The entire sword had Illyrian runes carved into it for luck and glory.

You looked at them both with a sad smile, “Thank you. Y-you have no idea how much this means to me.”

They both nodded their heads and then placed their right hands over their hearts and kneeled. Then at the same time they spoke. “I swear myself to you. To ward you, Princess Y/n. I shall guard your secrets. Obey your commands. Fight at your side and defend your name and honor. With all my strength and give my blood for yours.”

Confused, you shook your head, “Neither of you have to swear oaths to me. Giving me this sword—my mother’s sword is more than enough.”

“Princess Y/n, it would be the greatest honor of our lives to serve you. The heir that was promised—the “Sun of the Night court.” Hart Replied.

“Please, Princess, allow us this honor.” Bron insisted.

“All right. But, never forget it is also my honor to have you serve me.” They nodded. “Now rise.” They did. And you gently laid your mother’s—your sword in the crate and went to pick it up but Bron’s voice stopped you.”

“Princess—“

“Please don’t call me Princess. The less people that know who I really am the better.” They both nodded again.

“Y/n?”

“Yes, Bron?”

“Why do you need all of this?” He asked, gesturing to the crate.

“Because there’s something I need to do in the Summer Court.”

“Would you like us to accompany you?” asked Hart.”

“No. No, it’s better if you both stay here. This is something I need to do alone.”

They bowed their heads, “Of course.”

****

By the time you made it back to your bedroom in the Manor it was mid afternoon and you didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep.

Alis woke you up with a tray of cured meats, cheese and bread for you to eat. With a goblet of fresh water.

“What time is it?” You croaked, your voice still thick with sleep.

“Late afternoon. The sun is going to set soon.” She said after glancing at the windows.

You nodded. Raihn? Even your mental voice sounded thick with sleep.

Yes, sunshine? He answered instantly.

I’ll meet you at the border of the Spring and Summer court after the sun sets.

Be careful. He said.

You too.

You ate in silence while watching Alis lay out the fighting leathers and weapons on your bed. She shook her head, “I don’t like this one bit.”

“What?”

“The idea of you going out. What if you get hurt?”

“I’ll be fine, Alis.” You reassured her. “I always am.”

She grumbled her agreement under her breath making you laugh as she took the empty tray from you. She left, taking the tray back to the kitchen and with a sigh you got up to get dressed.

Sliding on the supple yet tough fighting leathers, designed to provide flexibility and protection during combat. The boots following after. Next was the gauntlets, bandolier and then the belt.

Alis came back in after you had already sheathed your sword on your back and the battle axe on your hip. Now you were sheathing your daggers into the bandolier—three curved ones and three straight ones.

You were going to secure your two ash daggers into your boots when Alis stepped towards you, halting you mid movement. She held two leather thigh sheaths that could connect to a belt, “I had planned to gift this to you on your birthday but it’s in a few days anyway.”

You took it from her hands, taking it in.

There wasn’t anything special about it—except that it was a gift from her—but you could tell it was high quality.

She fidgeted, “I had it made for you—“ You cut off her rambling with a hug. She let out a surprised laugh before wrapping her arms around you too.

“Thank you, Alis.” You pulled away, moving to strap them on and secure them to your belt before sheathing an ash dagger to each thigh.

She tipped her chin and led you to the vanity where she braided your hair back away from your face. When she finished she met your gaze in the mirror and gave you an unsure. “It’s time.”

And surely enough through the reflection of the mirror you could just barely see the curtain drawn window and see that the sun had set. You turned around in the seat, facing her, “What did you tell Feyre?”

“That you weren’t feeling well and that you were going to sleep through the rest of the evening.”

“Good.” You made your way to the balcony doors and opened them, Alis followed behind you but stopped in the doorway. Your hands rested on the railing and without you looking back you said, “Don’t wait up for me.” Then without another word you leapt from the balcony, slipped past the sentries and made your way through the Western Woods.

I’m heading to the border now. You told Raihn mentally.

I’m already here. Be safe, sunshine. He answered.

You jogged into the woods before stopping in a clearing. Waiting, listening in case anyone was around or following you. Once you were satisfied you inhaled a deep breath and when you exhaled you shot through the trees.

Even though the blood spell dulled your senses and blocked your magic, you were still more fae than mortal. In your fae form your senses were sharper—keener than a normal fae’s. More so than a High Lord’s according to your mother.

Your clothed figure was a black streak through the dark and your blades gleaming like stars when they caught in the moonlight. The ground easy beneath my boots. Your immortal body gracefully leaping over rocks, fallen trees and branches, and dodging trees without even thinking. Without a doubt you let your senses guide you.

The smell of oak and moss and living things, the open coolness of the mist passing like a path that you followed. Until you finally made it to the border where the courts of Spring and Summer met not even fifteen minutes later.

Raihn stalked out of the shadows, moving towards you. “Tell me what you know.” A command not a question.

He held your gaze, blue eyes glowing bright in the dark. They set up camp between Adriata and the border. Six soldiers are on watch a mile out from the camp and six other soldiers are sitting out around the fire in front of the tent.

You nodded. “And Wesley?”

In the tent.

“All right.” You only took one step forward before Raihn stopped you, blocking your path with his massive body. “You’re not gonna stop me.” And you went to side step him but he only got in your way again. “What?” You growled.

There’s something else you need to know.

“What?”

I heard Wesley saying he got word that the “Son of the Night Court” was in spring and he was going to send scouts within the hour.

Your face paled. “Fuck. They might not find me but if he finds Feyre they’ll take her.” Amarantha’s going to take her. Kill her. You shook your head, your blood now roaring in your ears. “Raihn, get back to Spring. If anything happens to her—“

It’ll have to happen to me.

Without another word he nuzzled his head into your shoulder and took off back towards Spring. A white blur through the night, through the trees. You took a deep breath willing your head to clear, you needed to focus, Raihn would protect her. It took a couple more deep breaths before your nerves settled and your blood was roaring for different reasons.

Even though you were only quarter Illyrian it was a dominant part of you. Powerful and intense like a storm gathering within you. Before a fight everyone always feels a mix of anticipation and adrenaline wash over them—some embrace it and others fight it, either willingly or unwillingly. You always welcomed it. Instead of it clouding your senses it heightened them allowing you to focus in fights. Allowing you to fight with lethal skill and precision, excelling in every fight.

You let the promise of revenge, bloodshed and death wash over you. Relax you. Letting your parents training take over as you unsheathed two daggers from your bandolier, the feeling of them as familiar as the steady rhythm of your own heartbeat. On silent feet you made your way to the camp's perimeter—to the first soldier on watch and faster than anything had the right to be you stuck the dagger into his throat and twisted.

He died before his body even hit the ground.

You did the same to the five other soldiers—four females and one male— that were on watch. Their blood dripped from your fingertips as you stalked closer to the camp. Standing on the edge of the tree line, you saw five more soldiers sitting around a fire—two females and three males—talking. They still hadn’t noticed you and you scented the air. Nostrils flaring slightly once, twice and you knew Wesley was inside the tent.

Reaching behind your back you unsheathed your sword and moved. Prowling towards them, holding your drawn sword behind your back, the point upwards.

Sunshine. Raihn reached out to you, mind to mind. The manor is secure. Feyre was safe. You hummed your agreement mentally and closed off the bond on your side.

You purposefully let leaves crunch beneath your feet as you neared them and they stopped talking. “Where’s Wesley?” You asked, your voice deathly soft.

One of the Hybern soldiers—a high fae female—tensed. “What do you want with Wes?” She asked as she looked around, no doubt wondering how you got through the soldiers that were supposed to be on watch.

“Where is he?” You growled.

“What. Do. You. Want. With. Him.” She growled right back.

“I heard he’s looking for the Sun of the Night court?”

Another Hybern soldier—a high fae male—flanked her, “You know where he is.”

“She is right here. Looking for him.”

Another soldier—male. “You’re not the son of the Night Court. You’re a mortal girl.” He spat, drawing his sword.

You shrugged, lowering your eyes, jaw clenching. “Semantics.”

They subtly shifted, giving another male soldier with deep brown skin that was holding a crossbow a clear shot at you. In one quick movement he raises it and lets the bolt fly.

You knock aside the bolt with your sword.

Then another soldier—the other female—rushes towards you and you parry her sword, stabbing her straight through the neck.

You parry a second soldier's attack and slice his stomach.

Whirling you stab a third soldier that tried rushing you from behind in the leg. He falls and the second soldier comes at you again, blocking his attack, with the blade of your sword pointed down. Your swords clash and then you twist your wrist and slice his throat. So deep his head is barely attached to his body.

A fourth soldier charges at you and you block his blow and with your left hand you clamp down on his right forearm and bring your sword down on it. Severing his arm from his body. Grabbing his sword from his right hand before it even hits the ground and stabbing it into the chest of the soldier with the crossbow before he can reload it.

Another soldier comes at you with his sword in one hand and a shield in the other. He spreads his arms as he raises his left, bringing down his sword in a wide arc and you duck. Then before he can bash you with his shield you spin and switch your grip on your sword so it’s horizontal and stab through the side of his neck.

You prowl forward, right as the third soldier you had stabbed in the leg charges at you. With his arms raised and you drop to a knee and angle your sword upwards stabbing him through his ribs and into his heart and take his swords.

The female soldier that you spoke to first snarls at you as your swords clash and you spin before striking another blow. She blocks it but with the other sword you stab her through her chest. Impaling her and pinning her to the ground. You take a step back and twist, decapitating her with one swing.

You hear, heavy, sure foot falls as Wesley prowls towards you. Too caught up in slaughtering his soldiers to notice him till now.

He points his sword at you as he charges. You dodge two thrusts and then parry several slashes. You exchange several more blows. Then land a punch to his jaw and drive him back, pinning him to a tree with your sword pressed against his neck. His nostrils flaring—he’s scenting you.

His eyes widened and then narrowed into slits.

“You remember me. Don’t you?” You growl.

He only growls back and stabs you in the stomach with a dagger you didn’t realize he had. He knocks aside your sword. Then he spins and swipes dodging your blows, then he slashes at your back and you bring your own sword behind your back just in time to block it.

You knock his sword away and bring your own down on his shoulder. He spins on his knee and slices your thigh with his dagger. You glare at each other. Then you side step him as he charges, dodging a horizontal swipe, he puts the dagger in his sword hand.

The blades facing in opposite directions. You grab the blade of his dagger as it moves towards your hip and then in one quick motion he pulls it out of your grip. slicing your palm in the process.

You surge forward raining down blows. Wesley blocks a blow with both blades. You rip the sword from his grasp and aim your own sword at his throat. He stands rigid, staring at you with nothing but hate. You toss his sword behind you and lower your sword.

He lunges forward with the dagger and you knock it from his grasp with the pommel of your sword. And with your free hand you grab both his hands and in one fell swoop you bring down your sword in a brutal cut—severing both hands at the wrist. His blood, spraying your boots.

His blood curdling screams fill your ears and the forest around as he falls to his knees. Doubling over in pain. You laugh as his body obviously begins going into shock if the telltale sign of his hyperventilating is anything to go by. You circle around him—a predator about to make the killing blow to their prey.

He whimpers as you force his head up with the blade of your sword under his chin. “Look. At. Me.” You say deathly soft.

Wesley forces his eyes to meet yours. “W-we killed you. All of you.” His voice quivering from pain.

You shook your head, a feral grin on your lips as you loomed over him making him flinch. “You slaughtered a mother and two fathers. . . but you didn't slaughter every one of the Blackfyre’s.” His face pale from blood loss seemed to pale further. “No. That was your mistake.” You taunted. “You should have ripped them all out, root and stem. Leave one dragon alive and the sheep are never safe.“

His body began to shake even more as he took in the murderous look in your eyes. The rage.

“Do you remember what you said to me all those years ago?”

He whimpered, shaking his head.

You gripped his hair, tilting his head back, “I want words,” you snarled.

“N-no.” He stuttered between sobs.

“It was after you took a whip to my back. I could barely stand but I still tried slitting your throat and you dislocated my shoulder disarming me.” You let out a cold bitter humorless laugh. “You said,” leaning down to whisper into his ear, “you lack conviction” and then you tied me back onto the post and whipped me some more.”

“I am so sorry. . . I was just a soldier following orders.”

“And now you’ll die because you were a soldier just following orders.”

You lifted your sword up in a high arc and Wesley squeezed his eyes shut, murmuring some type of prayer under his breath. Your sword's blade glinted in the moonlight before descending in a swift clean death blow. There was a devastating elegance to the motion but right as it was about land true—

“Y/n!” Lucien called.

You pulled back the blow, barely a hair's breadth away from Wesley’s neck.

He appeared from behind the tent, stopping a couple feet away from Wesley and you. He sounded terrified. It took you a moment to realize he was terrified of you.

“Stop. . .” He pleaded, his voice hoarse.

You didn’t want to stop. Not until Wesley was dead. Not until all of Amarantha’s lieutenants were dead. Not until Amarantha was dead.

“Please, Y/n.”

You looked up and saw his remaining eye was wide, his metal one whirring softly as he looked around. At all the soldiers you slaughter and at Wesley with your sword at his neck. You blinked once and you were in his head, seeing yourself through his eyes.

Your eyes were clear but filled with feral satisfaction. There was still a hint of a wicked feral grin on your lips. And you were covered in blood from head to toe; some of it yours and most of it theirs. You blinked again now seeing through your own eyes.

“We can take him back to spring. Let Tamlin deal with him.” Lucien tried reasoning and Wesley face shone with relief—hope—at the chance of mercy.

“No. Not good enough.” You raised your sword again.

The emissary took a step forward. “This isn’t going to change what happened.”

“I don’t care. He slaughtered my family.” You half growled—half whispered.

“Can you forgive your enemies?” He tried reasoning again.

“The gods will forgive. My task is to arrange their meeting.”

And this time when your sword arced through the air, the blade struck true. And Wesley’s head fell to the ground near his severed hands before his body did too.

You tilted your face up at the night sky—the stars, a small smile on your lips when you felt a soft warm breeze caress your face. Your eyes closed and it was as if your mother was doing it. You could’ve sworn you heard your parent’s voices in the wind.

Just two more, Sunshine. Your mother said. Only Cahir and Amarantha are left, Sunshine. Your father Declan seemed to say. My brave sweet girl you’re almost done. Your father Callum reassured you.

Just two more.

“Two more what?” Lucien asked cautiously.

You realize you must’ve said it out loud. “Go back to the manor, Lucien.”

Distantly you heard leaves crunching beneath light footfalls in the trees behind you. You didn’t spare him another glance before silently making your way towards the noise. Scenting the air, you smelled a female. Her scent, a crisp and refreshing winter breeze, with hints of frost and pine needles.

It was familiar but you couldn’t place it, so you pulled your battle axe free. The weight of it was a comfort in your hand as you silently continued further into the woods.

But it was almost too quiet so you waited for a minute to just listen. You could hear leaves rustling, a distant river, animals and then a heart beating rapidly. Not an animal's heart but fae. And it was all you could to grab the female by her throat with your free hand and slam her into the ground.

Her hands clawed at the one you wrapped around her neck as she thrashed beneath you. But she stilled when she felt the cool metal of your axe press into her skin. It was dark but the moonlight let you glimpse pale skin, white hair and blue eyes.

Your brows knitting together. “Viviane?”

“Princess?”

“Why were you watching me?”

“I wasn’t.”

Your hand tightened around her throat and you dug your axe deeper drawing a drop of blood. “Bullshit.”

“I didn’t know it was you.”

You slammed her head into the ground.

“I swear I didn’t know,” she grounded out through clenched teeth.

“Liar.”

“Fine. . . I needed to ask you something.”

You stared at her for a couple more seconds before slowly letting go of her throat and getting off of her. “You needed to ask me something,” you repeat.

“Yes.”

You cross your arms. “Well?”

“A high fae male from Winter was found in Spring territory earlier today.” The one spiked to the fountain.

“What about it?”

“Did he have a note on his person?”

“No.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t hidden anywhere on his body?”

You suppress a shudder. “Yes.”

“Y/n did you check? He could have hid—“

“There was no way, no place for him to hide a note. They spiked his head to the fountain.” She visibly flinched. “I don’t know where his body is.” I whispered and she put a hand up to her mouth, stifling a sob. “I’m sorry, Viviane.”

She shook her head. “No. No. No.” Then she reached for me, her hands gripping my shoulders, “This is your fault.”

Your eyes shuttered. “I know.”

“No you don’t know!”

You wrenched her hands from your shoulders, spinning and pinning her against a tree with your forearm. “Trust me. . . I know. I lost people too.” You say with lethal softness and she blinked, seeming to remember that was true.

“I-I’m sorry Princess. . . about your mother and fathers.”

You waved your hand dismissively, “I don’t need to hear this right now,” you only made it a step back towards the Spring Court before she stopped you. “What?” you spat.

“Here.” she placed a silver dagger into your hand. It was elegantly made with a bright sapphire in the pommel. “For besting me,” she explained.

You stared at it and before you could say something she winnowed.

****

The trek back to the manor was miserable. You were sore, tired, thirsty and hungry. Not to mention covered in blood, it was dry and sticky, and you were still bleeding from Wesley stabbing you in the stomach. Your body was probably littered in bruises and minor cuts.

Thankfully, none of the sentries said anything as you strode by with your chin held high, slightly limping.

Bron was by the doors when he saw you and he took a single step before you halted him with a raised hand. Giving him a tight nod as you passed him. And you hoped Feyre was asleep by now.

You barely made it up the steps when you heard her.

Feyre.

“Y/n!” She tried running to you but Lucien stopped her with a hand on her arm.

“I’m fine.” You reassure her.

She scanned you from head to toe, her blue-grey eyes wide and lips slightly parted. “Are you sure? You don’t look fine”.

You nodded. “I’m fine. I swear.”

“Please tell me that isn’t your blood.”

“Not all of it. . . Most of it isn’t anyways.”

You felt him before you heard him—saw him. Raihn. His claws clicked against the marble floors as he made his way to you. Nuzzling his head against you, causing you to let out a hiss of pain from the wound in your stomach. You opened the bond on your side and felt his relief to see you were alive.

I’m all right. You reassured him.

He only let out a soft whine.

You heard a loud, startled gasp from behind you atop the stairs. “Y/n?”

Alis.

Heaving a breath. “I’m fine, Alis.”

Her hands hovered over your body, her lips pursing, “You are certainly not fine.”

You grinned at her. “I need another favor.”

She placed her hands on her hips. Her eyes narrowed into slits, “What?”

“Can you get me something to eat and some water and bring it up to my room please.”

She huffed. “Fine.”

“Thank you, Alis.”

“But first let me help you up to your room.”

No. I’ll take you. Raihn said.

You waved her off. “Raihn will take me.”

“Fine but let me draw you a bath first.”

“All right.”

Raihn lowered himself all the way down to the marble floors and you stepped over him so a leg was on each side and then he stood. Earning another hiss of pain out of you.

“Y/n?” Feyre called again.

Turning to look at her. “What?”

“What happened?”

You looked at her before your eyes flicked to Lucien then back to her. “I can’t tell you. Not yet.”

“Y/n.”

“Soon, Fey.” You promised.

For other parts: Bound In Flames Series Masterlist

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10

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3xiles · 28 days

Text

Sweet lies part two

Pairing •Toji x gn!reader

Warnings• Angst!, Cheating, suggestive (they like lowkey make out), manipulation, UNHEALTHY RELATIONSHIP!, Cursing. Lmk if i forgot any!

Word count • 1079 words

A/n • I had this pre written ever since i put out the first part but was so hesitant on posting it LMAO! Enjoy! Masterlist is pinned!

You knew life after the honeymoon phase was rough but nothing could’ve prepared you for the drastic switch in you and Toji’s relationship. About two months the after you guys got married is when you realized the mistake you made. Your days went from him coming home from work and showering you with affection to him coming in with an inaudible hello. You were confused on what you could be doing wrong. He was coming home to a clean house with food on the table, a bath prepared and you all dolled up for him, just how he liked it. This went on for months and throughout those months he’s just been coming home later and later. The man who was once coming home every day at five now walking through the front door as late as ten at night. It didn’t bother you until your 26th birthday.

You woke up excited to celebrate your first birthday as a married woman. For your birthday last year Toji went all out so you couldn’t help but let your expectations be high! Toji wasn’t there when you woke up, which was normal because he usually leaves extremely early in the morning. You spent your day pampering yourself to the max, expecting to maybe go out later. Soon enough five o clock rolls around. You sit pretty and patient on the couch, telling yourself he’s just running a little late. You wait… and you wait.. sending text after text to your husband every hour.

Hubby💍❤️

5:30pm

Y/n: Hey babe coming home soon?