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flickering-chandelier · 5 months

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Was Any Of It True?

Pairing: badboy!Azriel x goodgirl!Reader

Summary: Modern/College AU! Az’s on-again-off-again girlfriend gives Azriel a proposition: make the new bookworm fall in love with him, then break her heart, in exchange for anything he wants. He agrees, but things get complicated when he falls for Reader for real.

Based on this request! 🩷

✨ Part 2 ✨ Part 3 ✨

Warnings: angst, sexual language?, swearing, Azriel & friends being assholes

Word Count: 10.2k oh lord sorry besties I couldn’t shut my little brain off

“I'm telling you, Az, she's pissing me off. The professor loves her, and I saw that she got a 100 on the exam,” Claire was seething while she and Azriel lounged in his apartment, eating the pizza he'd ordered.

“Mhmm,” he mumbled around his pizza, only half listening. Claire was always complaining about something. “And what did you get?”

“98! He took two points off because I didn't answer thoroughly enough,” she scoffed. “God, I hate her. She's going to push me right off the top of the Dean's list.”

Azriel blinked. “I mean, you'll still be very near the top of the list.”

Claire groaned, throwing her napkin onto her paper plate angrily, “That's not good enough!”

He rolled his eyes and she glared at him. “Don't be an ass! This is a big deal to me.”

“Oh, I know it is. This girl is all you talk about.”

“Because I hate her. Maybe if she got laid, she’d be distracted enough to slip up once in a while,” she grumbled.

“Yeah, maybe,” Azriel said, pulling his laptop out of his backpack and setting it on the table, a sufficient signal that he didn’t want to talk about his girlfriend’s arch nemesis anymore.

No more than a week later, Azriel’s on-again-off-again girlfriend was off-again, and honestly, he was relieved. Claire’s obsession with being at the top of the academic food chain was bordering on insanity, and he was glad he didn’t have to hear about it anymore.

He was currently at a house party that Cassian had dragged him to, with a blonde girl that he couldn’t remember the name of sitting in his lap, one of her arms draped behind his neck, the other resting on his chest. She had been whispering in his ear all the things that she wanted to do to him, before Cassian interrupted, handing Azriel a shot with a grin.

Blondie scowled at Cassian, who just smirked back as the girl that Cass had been talking to earlier sidled up next to him, wrapping her arms around his middle.

Azriel knocked the shot back and handed the cup it had come in to the blonde girl. “Can you get me another one?”

She seemed annoyed, but took the cup from him anyway, striding into the kitchen.

“Sorry for interrupting,” Cassian said, settling on the couch next to him, before pulling the girl onto his lap.

Azriel rolled his eyes. “Like I give a shit.”

Cassian snickered as the blonde girl came back, draping herself in his lap again, handing him another shot. He drank it, just as Claire appeared before him, her arms crossed over her chest, and her brow furrowed.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice husky.

“I have a proposition for you.”

He smirked, making a show of tightening his grip on the blonde girl’s waist. “No, thanks. Been there, done that.”

“Not that kind of proposition, you idiot. Can we talk privately? I think it’ll be worth your while,” she said, her lips turning up into a sultry smile.

“I don’t know, Claire, I’m pretty busy right now,” he said, turning his gaze to the blonde girl, squeezing her thigh. She sighed dreamily, leaning further into him.

Claire groaned. “Look, Az, I really need your help. Please?”

Azriel studied Claire, and he could see that it was true. She was wearing her most annoyed, don’t-fuck-with-me face, but her eyes were pleading. Sad.

He sighed, glancing apologetically at the girl in his lap before turning back to Claire. “Fine, we can talk.”

She led him into someone’s empty bedroom and shut the door behind her.

“If this is about that girl you’re obsessed with, so help me,” he said. She winced, and he threw his head back. “Unbelievable. Claire, I don’t want to hear about this anymore! I don’t care about your problems.”

“Just hear me out!”

He crossed his arms over his chest, and raised an eyebrow at her, waiting.

“She actually is threatening my spot on the Dean’s list now,” she said, looking close to tears.

He looked pointedly at her. “And?”

“And I was thinking about what I said earlier… about how if a really hot guy was interested in her, maybe she would stop caring about her grades so much,” she said, smiling at him now.

“And?” Azriel just wished she would get to the point.

Claire sighed, exasperated. “I need you to seduce her.”

Azriel barked out a laugh, leaning his shoulder against the nearest wall. “You’re kidding, right? Why would I do that?”

She stepped closer to him, trailing a finger along his chest, her touch feather-light through his black t-shirt. She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, “Because I asked? Because I’ll give you anything you want,” she said, her voice dropping seductively.

He held her gaze, leaning down until their mouths were a breath away. Azriel heard her breath hitch.

Then he pulled away rapidly, and she blinked. “Sweetheart, you know I can fuck you anytime I want, right? That is not going to persuade me to help you.”

Her brow furrowed, her nose scrunching up. Oh, she was furious. Azriel's mouth turned up into his calculated half smile.

“What do you want, Az?” she huffed.

“Hmm,” he said, taking his time to think. Claire scowled. “I haven’t decided yet. But when I need to call in a favor of my own, you have to promise to do it. No matter what,” he drawled.

To her credit, she really looked like she was thinking it through, trying to think of another way to push this girl off the list. But finally, she sighed. “Deal.”

He pushed off the wall, walking towards the door. “Alright, so I just have to seduce the bookworm? Easy.”

Claire shook her head, her eyes still alight with her anger. “No, if I’m going to agree to any favor you could possibly want, you’re going to have to go further. You need to make her fall in love with you.”

Azriel bristled a bit, leaning against the door now. “I know I’m an asshole, but that seems too far, don’t you think?”

“No. If she’s going to be distracted enough that her grades will slip, you need to make it seem real,” she said, and then smiled as if she had a wicked thought.

“What?” Azriel asked.

“And then you break her heart, right before exams,” she said excitedly, her eyes burning with enthusiasm now. “You tell her, in front of everyone, that it was all fake.”

He rubbed at his bicep, a nervous tic that Claire picked up on immediately. “Jesus, Claire. I don’t want to ruin this girl’s life.”

She arched her brow. “Why not? She’s ruining mine.”

Azriel rolled his eyes and Claire pounced, “Any favor, Az. Any time, you can tell me to do whatever you want,” she smirked.

He groaned, pinching his nose. “Fine,” he ground out. “Where do I find her?”

Claire beamed. “Where else would a nerd be? The library, of course.”

---

You shifted in your seat, starting to feel sore after poring over your notes for hours. Maybe you should go for a walk. Maybe. But, you still had so much to do…

Groaning, you crossed your arms on the table, laying your head down on top of them. Just a minute, you just needed a tiny break --

“Studying always makes me feel like that, too,” said a low, male voice.

You lifted your head, bewildered, and nearly choked on your own spit. The guy who was for some reason deigning to talk to you was… well, what other way was there to say it? He was drop-dead gorgeous.

His face was stoic as he sauntered up to your table, his jet black hair was just a tad unruly, his hazel eyes burning into yours. But it was his body that made the breath completely escape your lungs. He was dressed in all black, his t-shirt hugging his chest and his biceps, showing off his every muscle, and there were swirling black tattoos peeking out from under his sleeves.

All you could do was stare as he took the seat across from you, leaning back with his arms crossed like the two of you did this every day.

“What class is that for?” he asked, nodding to the textbook open in front of you, the dozens of papers scattered around you.

“Organic Chemistry,” you said, trying to sound like you were normal and not completely surprised by this handsome stranger finding you in your favorite quiet corner of the library.

He let out a low whistle, “Damn, you are smart.”

“What, did someone tell you I was?” you asked.

“No, I just figured when I saw all the --” he gestured to your cluttered workspace, “homework stuff.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Homework stuff?”

His mouth turned up the slightest bit, holding up his hands like he was surrendering. “You caught me. I’m not much of an academic.”

“Then what are you doing here?” you asked curiously.

“Now, that is an excellent question,” he said, and really did seem like he was questioning it. “Girls? Parties? Though I could get girls anywhere and I don't particularly enjoy parties.”

You nodded. “Ah,” you said. “Got it.”

He braced his arms on the table, leaning forward. “I take it you’re not into that kinda thing?”

A dry laugh escaped from your throat, “Definitely not. I’m really only here for the--” you mimicked his gesture from earlier, “homework stuff.”

He barked out a laugh, his stoic face completely transforming for the briefest of moments. You couldn’t help but stare. “You’re telling me all you do is study? A beautiful girl like you? Please tell me you’ve been to at least one party,” he said, looking at you incredulously.

You blushed. “No, I haven’t been to any.”

You braced yourself for impact, for the teasing or insults to come, but he just smiled softly. “You wanna go to one with me tonight?”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “You don’t even know my name.”

The side of his mouth quirked up into a smile, his eyes dancing with amusement. “What's your name?”

Rolling your eyes, you told him.

“Nice to meet you. I'm Azriel.” He raised his eyebrows, “So? Party?”

“I thought you just said you don't like parties!”

“True, but I do love the thought of corrupting a sweet, innocent bookworm,” he smirked.

“No, thanks.” You couldn't imagine yourself going to a house party, especially not with a stranger.

Azriel's cool-guy demeanor seemed to drop the slightest bit. “Why not?”

You looked at him pointedly. “I don't know you. And I have no interest in being corrupted. Why do you want me to come to this party so badly anyway?”

He shrugged casually. “I like you.”

“You don't know me!”

“See, that, right there,” he snapped his fingers and pointed at you. “You're funny. Smart, beautiful. What's not to like?”

You forced yourself to hold his gaze, even as a blush rose to your cheeks. “I'm not going to a party with someone I don't know. They make true crime documentaries about that sort of thing.”

He seemed to contemplate that for a moment. “Okay, you make a fair point. What do you want to do then?”

“What do you mean?”

“You can pick our first date, since you didn't like my idea.”

“What date?” You blanched.

He arched an eyebrow. “Our first date? Weren't you listening?”

You studied him for a moment. For the life of you, you could not figure out what this guy's angle was.

As if reading your mind, he said softly, “Look, I just saw you and thought you were really pretty, and that it looked like you could use a break from studying. That's it,” he held his hands up again. “I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. If you want me to go, I'll go.”

For a beat longer, you watched him, his body language, his ridiculously pretty face. What was the harm, really? You sighed, tore off a scrap of paper from your notebook, scribbled out your number, then handed it to him. “I need to study. If you text me later, I'll let you know where we're going on the first date.”

His face broke out into what might have been the first genuine smile you'd seen from him. He took the paper from you, his fingers brushing against yours.

“Can't wait.”

You were half expecting to never hear from Azriel again. But just a few hours later, as you were eating dinner in your apartment, your phone chimed with a text.

Az: Done studying yet?

It was an effort to bite down your smile.

You: Taking a break for dinner.

It was less than a minute before he responded.

Az: Dinner? Is that what our first date is going to be?

You didn’t try to hide your smile this time.

You: A little cliche, don’t you think?

Az: Oh, absolutely. So… what are we doing?

You: Meet at the tennis courts at 7 tomorrow?

Az: We’re playing tennis?

You: No, but I’m not giving you my address. And I’m not giving away the surprise.

Az: So smart. So mysterious. I’m swooning.

You: Shut up.

Az: See you tomorrow ;)

You tossed your phone to the side, forcing yourself to focus back on your schoolwork.

The following day you parked your car by the empty tennis courts on campus just before 7. It was early spring; the weather finally started to warm up enough to not be too chilly in the evening. Still, you rubbed your arms nervously. You were starting to regret this. You didn’t know this guy at all. What if it went horribly wrong?

Before you could contemplate bailing, a familiar figure rode up on a jet black motorcycle. Of course this guy had a motorcycle. You couldn't see his face underneath the helmet, but you would already recognize those tattooed arms anywhere.

He parked his bike, smoothly sliding off it and taking his helmet off before sauntering over to you. “Hey, beautiful.”

You rolled your eyes, sure that he had said that to a million girls on a million dates before.

“What? Don’t do that,” he said softly, his smile softening and his gaze raking down your body. “You are beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly, giving in.

“So,” he said, towering over you. “What’s the plan?”

You smiled. “How’s your mini golf game?”

He raised an eyebrow, looking a little skeptical. “Mini golf? That’s what you’re choosing?”

“Yes, it is. Do you have something to say about that?” you teased.

His eyes sparked at the tone in your voice. “Nope. Nothing at all.” He nodded to his motorcycle. “You wanna hop on the bike?”

You looked pointedly at him and he laughed. “Didn’t think so,” he gestured to your car. “Lead the way.”

Your nerves started to dim as the two of you fell into a rhythm going through the course. The two of you were just talking and laughing like it was normal. It was… fun, actually.

“Shit,” Azriel muttered as he overshot the hole. Again.

You laughed and his eyes flicked over to you, lingering a bit. “You’re good at this, bookworm,” he said as he took another shot, sinking it into the hole this time. You watched, leaning against your putter, having finished that hole two shots ago.

Shrugging, you said, “I used to go with my family a lot.”

He placed his hand on the small of your back as you walked to the next hole. You cleared your throat, focusing on your steps, on your breathing, on anything but how it felt to have him touch you so casually. “What about you?”

“What about me?” he asked as you dropped your ball onto the green.

You took your shot before you answered. The ball landed just shy of the hole. “What’s your family like?”

“My family…” he trailed off, clearing his throat, setting up his shot. He paused to look at you for a moment before he swung. “It’s complicated.”

He hit the ball and it stopped right next to yours.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” you said, as the two of you walked further down the hole.

“No, you didn’t. It’s just… I don’t really talk about them with anybody.”

You nodded, not sure where to go from here.

Azriel smiled reassuringly, nudging you lightly with his shoulder. “Stop worrying.”

“I’m not worrying,” you claimed, your voice an octave too high.

“You are. I can tell.”

You bit your lip to hide your smile as you sunk your ball into the hole.

“I think I’m going to need some pointers from you on the next hole,” he grumbled.

“I guess I could help you out,” you laughed.

So, when you got to the next hole, the last hole, he stepped so close that your bodies were nearly touching. You tried to control your breathing.

“You’re gonna help me out?” he murmured, his eyes flashing down to your lips for a moment.

“Okay,” you breathed.

He stepped behind you, his body pressed against your back, wrapping his arms around you, his hands covering yours on the club.

“How is this going to help you, exactly?” you asked, your voice slightly unsteady.

His lips brushed your ear as he said, “Oh, trust me, it’s helping.”

You couldn’t say anything. Could hardly breathe.

“What do you think I’m doing wrong?” He murmured.

You swallowed. “You’re hitting it too hard. Not exactly rocket science.”

“Mmm. That makes sense. I do tend to go… hard.”

That finally had you coming to your senses. You stepped out of his grasp, turning back to glare at him when you were a safe distance away.

The side of his mouth turned up into a smile. “Sorry. I couldn't help myself.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him again. “Just take your shot.”

He smirked at you for a moment, before he swung, and the ball went right into the hole.

He turned to you, his eyes wide. You laughed and he hugged you, picking you up and spinning you around.

You let out an involuntary squeal of surprise, and he laughed, gazing into your eyes as he set you back on the ground. “Thanks for the help.”

“I think you’ve been playing me this whole time,” you joked.

His smile fell a little, his eyes sobering.

“What’s wrong?” you asked. When he just stared at you, his expression unreadable, you added, “Azriel, I was joking.”

He blinked and then his natural, stoic expression was back as he took a step closer to you. “Right. I think you’re just a good teacher.”

You just looked at him, trying to decipher the changes in his mood, who he really was underneath the gruff exterior.

He smiled faintly, stepping even closer. “What are you thinking about?”

You had to crane your neck to look him in the eye now. “I'm trying to figure out what you're thinking about.”

Azriel's smile turned into a smirk. “I'm thinking… that I really want to kiss you. But I don't want to scare you away.”

Heat flooded your face and his smile turned softer as he cupped your cheek gently with a rough hand. “Would it scare you away?” He murmured.

“I -- don't know,” you said honestly.

His hazel eyes dipped to your lips and stayed there. “I think I'm gonna have to take the risk,” he said, his voice low, husky.

“I think so, too,” you breathed.

His free hand slinked around your waist, gently pulling your body into his. Your heart thundered in your chest as he leaned down, slowly bringing his lips to yours. He seemed to give you a moment to process, and you felt him smile against your mouth when you started to kiss him back, your fingers curling around his bicep, his shoulder.

You were breathless by the time he pulled away, and as the two of you drove back to the tennis courts, you couldn't help but hope that it would happen again by the end of the night.

When you parked your car near his motorcycle in the abandoned lot, he lingered, his gaze holding yours, dropping to your mouth again.

He shot you a crooked smile. “Aren't you gonna walk me to my bike?”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you got out of the car, walking over to the motorcycle and settling against the fence near it, crossing your arms over your chest. “Happy now?” You asked.

Slowly, he sauntered over to you, his eyes twinkling under the stars. He raised his arm, twining his fingers in the chain link fence above your head, leaning his body towards you, but not quite touching. He gazed down at you, still sporting that half smile. “Very happy,” he murmured.

Your breath hitched and when his smile widened, you knew he heard it.

He held your gaze as he leaned down, bringing his mouth to yours again. You let yourself fall deeper into the kiss this time, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into you.

When he finally pulled away, he was grinning. “Want to go for a ride before you head home?” He said, nodding to his motorcycle.

You had stepped far enough out of your comfort zone for today. “Maybe next time.”

He raised his eyebrows in amusement. “So you're giving me a next time?”

Damn. You blushed. “I said maybe.”

“Uh huh, sure,” he said, leaning in again so his lips were barely an inch from yours. “You can't wait to see me again,” he whispered.

You shoved him away lightly and he chuckled, backing up towards his bike, but keeping his eyes on you. “Until next time, then. Have a good night, bookworm.” He winked before putting his helmet on and speeding away.

A few weeks, a few dates, and several kisses later, you couldn't deny that Azriel was on your mind quite a bit.

You had never thought that someone like him would be interested in someone like you, but he seemed to prove time and time again that he did indeed like you. He texted you flirty little things every day, making you blush in class. He asked about your day, and seemed to genuinely be listening, and he would do pretty much anything you wanted on your dates. Last week, the two of you had gone to a local bookstore and he had watched you browse, a small smile on his face. He ended up picking out a book he wanted you to read and you did the same for him. He had been sending you daily updates on his progress through the book. Slowly, you were starting to let your walls down, despite yourself.

So, when he asked you to finally go to a party with him, to meet his friends, you accepted. You still felt cautious: partying had never been something that you were remotely interested in, but you trusted him.

---

Azriel knew he had to tread this next part carefully. Things had been going well with you. He let you take control of your time together so you would be comfortable, and honestly, he was actually having a really good time getting to know you and seeing where you would take him next.

And when you kissed him… God. It was always a struggle to keep his hands on your waist, to stay PG. He wished he could explore things further with you in that regard, but he wouldn't let himself go there. Not when your broken heart was the finish line.

He rarely let himself think about it -- the deal that he had made with Claire. Being with you felt so natural that he usually forgot he was supposed to be acting. That he was supposed to be leading you to Claire’s revenge.

He had convinced you to come to a party, upon Claire's request so she could see the progress he had made with you. You had said yes, he assumed because you trusted him enough now. The thought made his stomach roll. He was really starting to hate himself for getting mixed up in this.

Azriel acted differently around you than he did around the rest of the general population. At a young age he had learned to keep quiet, to not show a single emotion on his pretty face, to be tough, or be punished.

With you… he couldn't help but smile. Couldn't stop the laughs that he usually stomped down for the rest of the world.

So, having his two worlds collide at this party…he didn't know exactly how to navigate it. Deep down, it made his heart swell that you trusted him enough to help you navigate something so far out of your comfort zone. But if his friends saw the way he acted around you, he would never hear the end of it.

This would be a mess.

If Azriel wasn't leaning against his motorcycle when you exited your apartment building, he may have fallen over. You were wearing skintight jeans and a black tank top that showed more cleavage than he ever imagined he'd see from you. His fingers flexed on his biceps. He wanted to pull you back into your apartment and spend an hour peeling those clothes away inch by inch.

He blinked the lust away, trying to maintain his stoic expression, but failed, as he always did with you. He smiled at you and you smiled back.

He could tell by the way you carried yourself as you neared him that you were nervous. “Hey, beautiful,” he drawled his usual greeting as you wrapped your arms around his waist in your usual greeting.

“Hi,” you said, a little sheepishly. His eyes must have lingered on your curves a little too long because your eyes widened a bit, and you bit your lip nervously as you pulled away from him. He nearly groaned. “Is it too much? Do I look stupid?”

Azriel placed his hands on your shoulders gently, dipping his head to look you in the eyes. “You look amazing. Seriously.”

You blushed and murmured, “Thank you.”

He had to turn away, to grab your helmet, so you wouldn't see how much you affected him. He fucking loved it when he made you blush like that.

Azriel turned back to you, holding up the helmet, his eyebrows raising with amusement. “You ready to join the dark side, bookworm?”

You sighed, shifting on your feet.

“It'll be okay,” he said softly. “I got you.”

You nodded, seeming to resolve yourself, and reached for the helmet with slightly shaking hands.

He helped you make sure it was on correctly, his fingers brushing your chin, your neck. He bit back a smile as you shivered.

Azriel held your hand as you got settled on the back of the bike, showing you where to put your feet, and how to shift your weight with him.

When you seemed at least somewhat comfortable, he slid his helmet on, smoothly setting onto the motorcycle. You wrapped your arms around his middle, pressing your chest into his back. You were already holding him like your life depended on it, and he beamed freely underneath the helmet.

“Hold on tight,” he shot back at you, before he revved the engine, taking off much more gently than he normally would.

He tried not to think about the feel of you pressed into him, how tightly you were holding on. It didn't work. He wanted to drive you everywhere.

He couldn't resist reaching back to briefly squeeze your thigh at a red light. “How are you doing?”

“Good,” you said. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard a smile in your voice.

Too soon in Azriel's opinion, they had made it to the party. He parked, offering you his hand to help you get down.

When he pulled the helmet off your head, he was pleased to see that you were indeed smiling.

“Have fun?” He smirked.

“I did, actually,” you said, sounding a little breathless.

“Whenever you need a ride, you just let me know,” he winked.

You laughed, glancing behind him at the house.

He took your hand in his, squeezing reassuringly. You seemed to relax a bit. “We can leave whenever you want, okay?”

Taking a deep breath, you nodded and smiled nervously up at him.

You were doing this for him, he realized. Because he had asked you to. His heart constricted, guilt churning in his gut again as he led you inside, your hand squeezing his tightly.

His shoulders tightened as he led you through the crowd, making sure you were tucked in close to him.

“You want a drink?” he asked, as you made your way to the kitchen.

“Sure,” you said.

He rifled through what was on the sticky counter, trying to find something not disgusting for you to drink, making sure you stayed close to him.

Finally handing you a cup, he put your hand on the small of your back, guiding you to a corner of the living room that wasn’t yet very crowded. He took a seat on the couch and you settled in next to him, tucked closely into his side.

You smiled, leaning your shoulder into his. “Is this really it?” You asked skeptically. “You just sit here and drink around a bunch of drunk idiots?”

He laughed before he could stop himself. “I mean, yeah, that’s pretty much it,” he said, dipping his head to say in your ear. “Or we could dance. Or make out,” he smiled against your ear.

You blushed and he laughed again, kissing your temple.

Azriel wrapped an arm around your shoulders as Cassian and Rhys showed up, grinning at you, their eyebrows raised. Azriel fought the urge to roll his eyes. They had seen him laughing with you, kissing you, he knew. He had nearly forgotten where he was, why he was here with you. He loved them, but he wasn’t sure what they would say to you about him. They didn’t know about his arrangement with Claire, and he had been keeping details about his relationship with you as vague as possible.

“So you’re the one Az has been spending all his time with,” Cassian grinned.

You smiled sheepishly, leaning further into Azriel. “I guess.”

Azriel nodded to his friends. “This is Cassian and Rhysand. They’ve been my best friends since we were kids.”

He could tell you were intrigued by that. He still hadn’t told you anything about his childhood.

Before you could ask any questions, Claire showed up next to Azriel’s friends, her expression the very picture of friendship. It unsettled him so much that he held you closer to him, so you were practically on his lap.

“Hi Claire,” you smiled, and his heart sank. You really had no idea how Claire felt about you.

Claire smiled back. “Hey. I never expected to see you here.”

“I’m trying new things,” you said, smiling lightly at Azriel.

He couldn’t take it, having you so close to Claire, seeing that trust you had in him when you looked at him. He cleared his throat, standing up and offering you his hand. You took it, smiling politely at Claire and his friends as he led you through the house, out to the backyard.

“Is everything okay?” You asked, looking up at him curiously as he leaned his back against the side of the house.

“Yeah,” he said, unable to stop the smile that rose to his face as you gazed at him with your big doe eyes. He tugged you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I just wanted you to myself for a minute.”

“Oh yeah?” you flushed, and before he could stop himself, he kissed your cheeks, feeling the heat against his lips before his lips met yours in a slow, sensual kiss.

He was still kissing you when he heard Cassian snickering close by. “Oh shit, he’s whipped.”

Azriel rolled his eyes as he pulled away from you, but kept his hold on your waist. “How am I whipped?”

Cassian’s eyes gleamed with mischief and Azriel’s heart started to pound. “Sneaking out here on your own. You’re usually content to stay on the couch to make out with your girl of the week.”

Your body tensed in his arms and Azriel groaned internally, glaring at Cassian, who smirked. “Oh, she didn’t know? My bad, Az.”

Azriel’s expression was enough to send Cassian back inside.

Your brow furrowed as you stepped back, out of his reach. “Girl of the week?”

He winced. “He’s being dramatic.”

You raised your eyebrows, glaring at him, crossing your arms over your chest.

It was kind of adorable, but Azriel reigned in that comment. He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, look. I told you when we met that I go to parties and meet girls there. But things are different now,” he said, taking a step closer to you. And it was true. Things were different. You had been the one haunting his thoughts since that first date. He had barely looked at anyone else since.

After a moment, you sighed, and he knew you wouldn’t resist when he wrapped his arms back around you.

“Cassian’s an idiot,” he murmured, his focus back on your lips that he was dying to kiss again.

“So I’m not the girl of the week?” you said quietly, your eyes on his lips now.

He smiled. “We’ve been seeing each other for several weeks, haven’t we?”

You nodded, biting your lip, before you stood up on your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips. Azriel was surprised by his own relief. “Are we going back inside?” you asked.

“Not if you don’t want to,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist again.

Pursing your lips in thought, you said, “Mmm. Let’s go back in.”

“Yeah?” he said, surprised.

You smiled up at him, resting your chin on his chest. His heart melted. “I’m trying to be brave.”

He kissed your forehead, smiling faintly. “I’m proud of you, bookworm.”

You beamed, your whole face lighting up.

Azriel led you inside, his hand on the small of your back, trying to manage the swell of emotions in his chest. He didn’t have the time to process them right now.

The two of you mingled throughout the party for a few hours, and you even went so far as to dance with him for a bit, your body pressed against his, your hips swaying to the beat of the pounding music. He could hardly believe it, the way you let loose with him.

He stopped in the bathroom before the two of you left. He wasn’t gone for more than a few minutes, but when he returned, he spotted you near the kitchen, backing away from a guy who was clearly very drunk and very horny. Azriel saw red.

Before he could take a second to think, Azriel was upon the bastard, punching him in the jaw.

He heard you yelp. The asshole staggered back, swearing, his hand cradling his jaw. Azriel barely spared him a glance, his hands gently holding either side of your face, his gaze raking your body, searching for any sign that he had touched you.

Your eyes were wide, your breathing labored, but you seemed physically fine. “Are you okay?” he asked.

You nodded, your eyes still frantic.

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders as he led you outside. Claire caught his eye on the way out, hers shining with delight. He scowled at her.

When you made it outside, he hugged you to his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

You snorted. “You were gone for a few minutes. It’s not your fault that men are gross.”

“Are you okay, really?” He asked, pulling back to look you in the eye.

“I’m okay,” you said quietly.

He held you close to him, gazing at you for another moment before you smiled faintly. “You really didn’t need to punch him, you know.”

He winced slightly, remembering the yelp you let out when he threw that punch. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you said, rising on your tiptoes to kiss him.

Azriel held you until his heart rate slowed down, until his body was convinced that you were okay.

Later, after he had dropped you off at your apartment, Azriel stayed awake, tossing and turning, so many images from that night racing through his mind.

The way his heart constricted every time you smiled at him, the horror he felt at seeing Claire play nice, the terror and rage that flowed through his entire body when he saw that creep bothering you…

Azriel knew then, that he had real feelings for you. Shit.

---

“C’mon, baby, you’ve been studying for ages already,” Azriel murmured, standing behind you as you sat at your desk in your apartment, his arms draped around your chest, his lips trailing down your neck.

Your toes curled, heat running right through you. You wanted to give in. You really did. But…

You sighed. “I’m sorry, Az. I have this big exam on Tuesday. And finals are only a few weeks away.”

For some reason, that comment made his entire body stiffen. “Oh, yeah. Finals.”

You snorted. “Don’t tell me you forgot about finals.”

“No, I just… they’re soon.” His voice wavered a bit as he stood up fully. You twisted in your seat to look up at him. His brow was furrowed, his eyes swimming with anxiety.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, reaching up and cupping his cheek with your hand. “Do you need me to help you study?” He had never seemed to care about his grades before.

He leaned into your touch for a moment, shooting you a forced smile. “No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. I should go, and let you study.” He stooped down to press a quick kiss to your lips. “I won’t distract you anymore today.”

Before you could even respond, he was out the door.

You turned back to your notes, but couldn’t digest any of the information. That was… weird.

Azriel and you had been dating for months now. Though neither of you had ever put a label on it, you both knew you were exclusive.

In the privacy of your own mind, you secretly loved that he acted so differently around you than he did out and about on campus. You felt like you got a different version of him that was saved especially for you. It made your heart swell, all the little things he did for you each day.

You were also willing to admit, to yourself only, that you were absolutely in love with him. You had known for weeks now, and had been debating whether or not you should tell him.

He had been the one that made you step out of your comfort zone, to try new things, to be brave.

So, soon. You would tell him soon.

---

Azriel had to get out of the deal. Now.

He remembered the exact moment that he realized he was in love with you. It was a random afternoon, the two of you were watching TV at his apartment. He was laying on the couch, you were laying on top of him, your legs intertwined with his, your head on his chest. He was absentmindedly running his fingers through your hair while you giggled about something that happened on the show.

And he had the thought. I want my whole life to look like this.

And he knew. He loved you.

This had scared him, obviously, on multiple levels. He had never loved anyone before, never knew what that looked like. Yet somehow, he knew without a doubt that it was true.

And then, of course, there was the deal he had made with the devil.

He had known early on that he would have to get out of the deal. He had just been putting it off, hoping that Claire’s insanity would die down throughout the semester.

But now his time was up.

He prayed to whoever might be listening that Claire would listen to reason. That she would call it off. He couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you. He wouldn’t do it.

Claire smirked as she opened the door. “I’ve been wondering when you would show up. It’s been a long time, Az,” she purred.

Azriel stalked into her apartment, barely sparing her a glance. “The deal’s off, Claire.”

She cocked her head to the side, amused. “Oh? Why is that?”

“Because it’s insane,” he growled. “You were insane for coming up with it, and I was insane for agreeing to it. I’m done.”

Slowly, her lips curled up into a lethal smile. “You fell for her.”

Azriel blinked.

Claire cackled. “Oh, this is rich. You actually fell for the bookworm? I never thought I’d see the day. No wonder you haven’t been crawling into my bed.”

He scowled. “The deal’s off,” he repeated in the tone he used to scare people away.

She really looked at him then, her eyes bearing into his. After a moment, she finally said, “Okay.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Okay? Just like that?”

Claire shrugged. “You were right. It was an insane plan. And it didn’t even work,” she said bitterly. “You suck at your job. She’ll still be on the top of the Dean’s list, even after all your lovey-dovey shit.”

A swell of pride ran through him at the thought of your name at the top of that list.

“Alright,” he said, his brow furrowed, trying to figure out if there was some kind of angle here. But, there didn’t seem to be one.

He left quickly, his heart and mind feeling lighter. The guilt of how the two of you started would always be there, he knew. But now when he looked into the future, it wasn’t a hazy blur of nothingness that he saw. It was you.

---

The week before finals, there were parties everywhere. So you heard.

You had gone to a few more with Az over the past few months. It still wasn’t exactly your thing, but you didn’t mind going, especially with Azriel being so attentive to you every time you did.

Azriel didn’t seem particularly interested in going to this one, but his friends had been complaining that they never saw him anymore, so he agreed to go. And you had agreed to go with him, if only to take a break from your near constant studying these days.

You followed him through the crowd, his hand clasping yours, as always. Drinks in hand, you made your way to the outskirts of a group of people who were dancing and you joined them, Azriel pulling you in close to him, moving against you.

A laugh burst from you, and Azriel grinned, leaning down to kiss you.

You were so happy, you thought. So happy in that moment with him. You knew people watched you, as they usually did when Azriel was like this with you. You didn’t care.

When he pulled back from the kiss, he gazed down at you, his eyes swimming with affection.

“I love you,” you said before you could stop it.

His eyes sobered, and he pulled you in even closer, so your bodies were flush together. He leaned his forehead against yours, and in a crowd of people, Azriel said, a soft smile on his face, “I love you, too.”

Your heart leaped and you grinned, threading your fingers in his hair and bringing his lips to yours.

Suddenly, the music stopped, and from the TV came a voice. Azriel’s voice.

Everyone turned to the sound, curiously, watching. The video was jumpy, filming the floor, like it was filmed from someone’s pocket.

Azriel tensed, his arms still around you. “Fuck,” he said. “We need to go.”

Utterly confused, you didn’t argue as he pulled you through the crowd. But you stopped dead in your tracks when you heard video Azriel say, “Sweetheart, you know I can fuck you anytime I want, right? That is not going to persuade me to help you.”

Your blood ran cold, shock jolting from your heart down to your toes. Azriel was tugging on your arm, but you didn’t budge as you heard Claire’s voice next.

Claire. He had been talking to Claire. What did he mean, that he could fuck her whenever he wanted? You hadn’t even known that they knew each other. When was this filmed?

“Baby, please, I’ll explain everything, but we need to go,” Azriel was saying, sounding frantic.

You wrenched your arm from his grasp, weaving through the still crowd, moving toward the TV. You heard him swear, calling your name behind you, but you kept moving.

They were saying something about a deal, about him owing her a favor. You couldn’t make sense of it, not until you heard video Azriel say, “Alright, so I just have to seduce the bookworm? Easy.”

Video Claire responded, “No, if I’m going to agree to any favor you could possibly want, you’re going to have to go further. You need to make her fall in love with you.”

It was then that you noticed Claire, next to the TV, her eyes locked on you, smirking.

You couldn’t breathe, your legs were going to give out --

It was all fake. All of it.

Azriel caught up to you then, picking you up, slinging you over his shoulder. You didn’t protest, the shock setting in. You had to get out of there, even if it was him that carried you out.

When he made it outside, you pounded on his back with your fists. “Put me down, you asshole!”

“Sorry,” Azriel said, wincing as he gently set you on your feet. “You looked like you were going to pass out.”

“Like you even care,” you spat, storming away from him.

“Of course I care. Please, just give me a minute to explain,” he pleaded, following you.

“Explain what?” You stopped abruptly, spinning around to face him. “That you played me for a fool? Made me fall in love with you as a sick joke? Well, congratulations, it worked,” you said, pouring every ounce of venom that you could muster into your voice. You turned back around and continued walking as tears started pricking your eyes. You refused to let him see you cry.

“It may have started out that way, but it’s not like that anymore. From the first date, I had feelings for you. I love you. You have to believe that,” he said, right on your heels.

You knew he could catch up with you easily if he wanted to. He was hanging back, trying to give you your space. That pissed you off even more. “How could I possibly believe that?”

“Because you feel it, I know you do,” he said, finally wrapping his fingers around your wrist.

You tugged your hand free, but stopped walking, needing to catch your breath. You faced him. “What was the point?” You asked quietly. “Why make the deal?”

It didn’t matter. But you had to know.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Claire and I used to date. When you transferred, you pushed her off the top spot of the Dean’s list. She hated you for it. She said she would give me any favor I wanted if I made you fall for me… to distract you from school.”

You were so surprised that the tears you had been holding in started to fall. You angrily swatted them away.

Azriel continued, “I said no at first, but she was persistent, and…” he took a deep breath, darting his eyes away from you for a moment. They were shining with unshed tears. “I have no excuse. I agreed to it. I’m an asshole. But you made me want to be different.”

“Was any of it true?” You heard yourself saying, your voice breaking.

He lifted his hand, like he was about to reach for yours, then let it drop, thinking better of it. “It was all true. From our first date, you were breaking down my walls, making me smile, making me laugh.” He smiled sadly. “I fell for you. I love you,” he said, and now a lone tear did slide down his cheek. “I called it off with Claire ages ago. I told her I was out, and she agreed. I… I didn’t know she filmed it.”

You wanted to believe him, that he really did love you. But… “Even if you do love me, that doesn’t change what you did,” you said in a small voice.

Azriel sniffed, wiping the tears off his face. “I know. I am so, so sorry.”

Shaking your head, backing away from him, you choked out, “I don’t -- I can’t. I can’t do this right now.”

He took a step toward you, his eyes pleading. “Please. Please don’t go.”

Turning your back to him, you walked away, barely registering the pavement beneath your feet, the direction you were going.

Azriel called your name, but you kept walking.

You knew he had followed you home, not letting you walk alone at night. You watched his form retreat after you locked yourself inside your apartment with trembling hands.

You went to bed, not even bothering to change. Laying on your back, watching your ceiling fan spin around and around, you tried to identify all that you were feeling: shame, humiliation, sorrow. Fury.

Replaying all that had happened between you, all the times he was probably laughing at you with his friends behind your back. You felt nauseous.

How could he do this? How could he have played you for so long?

What the hell were you supposed to do now?

You woke up to several missed calls and texts from Azriel, all sent hours apart. It seemed that he didn’t get any sleep at all.

I am so sorry. I’m the worst person in the world. I know that.

I know what you’re thinking right now. I know that you’re going over it all in your head. But, it was real, baby. It was all real. I swear it was. I love you so much.

I’m hoping you’re getting some sleep. Can I see you today?

Groaning, you tossed your phone to the side, and took a long shower. By the time you got out, someone was knocking on your door.

You quickly dressed in some old pajamas and called through the door, “Go away, Az.”

“Well, at least you’re alive,” you heard him say. “Can I please come in? Two minutes?”

You threw the door open, furious. “No, you cannot come in. You humiliated me. You used me. You had your fun. What else could you possibly want?”

Azriel was standing on the threshold, his hands in his pockets nervously, his facial expression looked like you had just slapped him. “I want to apologize! I want to make things better, that’s what I want.”

Biting your lip to keep from crying, you said quietly, “Go away.”

His face fell. “I love you.”

Shaking your head, you said, “You don’t.”

He took a step forward, wedging his foot on the door jam so you couldn’t close it on him. “I do,” he said, his eyes pleading, baring into yours. “You know that I do. You know I’ve never let anybody else see the real me. Nobody but you.”

Tears spilled onto your cheeks then, and he wiped them away gently. Despite everything, you couldn’t back away. “It doesn’t matter,” you croaked. “You only went out with me so you could help her ruin my life.”

Azriel opened his mouth, as if to reply, but then shut it.

You laughed humorlessly. “See? Even you don’t have a comeback.”

His eyes softened, his rough fingers still absentmindedly stroking your cheeks. “Please,” he said again. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not enough,” you whispered, your heart breaking all over again as you looked up at him, at the pain in his eyes.

“How do I fix it?” He whispered back, tears sliding freely down his cheeks now.

“I don’t know,” you said, stepping back out of his grasp. “Please, Az. I just -- I need to be alone right now.”

He nodded, drawing his arm across his face to wipe the tears away. “Okay. Okay, I’ll umm -- I’ll see you later?”

You didn’t know how to answer that, didn’t know if you would see him again at all. He took a step back, into the hallway.

Without another word, you shut the door.

Especially knowing where that awful bet had originated, you refused to let Azriel and Claire get in your head for finals. You buckled down, spending entire days at the library studying, writing papers, finishing projects.

It was helpful, actually. You didn’t allow yourself to think about him, about all the memories you had that had become so tainted and confusing.

By the end of the semester, you had maintained all your A’s, passing every final with flying colors. And thus, secured the very top spot of the Dean’s list.

Azriel had been texting and calling every day. You left them all unanswered.

You hadn’t yet had time to think, to process through the hurt.

A new text chimed as you were packing up your car to head home for the summer.

Saw the list. Nicely done, bookworm. I know it doesn’t matter, but I really am proud of you. Looks like all that hard work paid off ❤️

Despite everything, there was a swell of emotion in your chest at his words. God, why did everything have to be so awful?

Later, you were hefting your last box into your trunk when you heard the distinct sound of a motorcycle slowing down behind you. Your heart raced. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to see him again or not.

Slowly, you turned around to see Azriel sliding off the bike, his helmet tucked under his arm. “Hey, beautiful,” he said, somewhat tentatively.

“Hi,” you said softly.

He nodded to your car, his expression grave. “You’re leaving?”

“Back home for the summer,” you said, unable to take your eyes off him. He looked tired. And sad.

A moment passed silently, the two of you just looking at each other, pain hanging in the air between you.

“I miss you,” he said quietly.

You sighed. Willed yourself to be brave. “I miss you, too,” you admitted.

Something like hope gleamed in his eyes. “I love you,” he murmured.

“I --” you started, and couldn’t bear it. “I need time.”

He looked crestfallen, like you had just punched him in the gut, but he nodded. “The summer?”

You swallowed. “Okay,” you said. “Okay. I get the summer, and I’ll find you in the fall. We’ll talk then.”

“Thank you,” he said, quietly. “Thank you for… for that. For talking to me now,” he winced. “I know I don’t deserve it.”

“No, you don’t,” you said, but there was no malice in it. You were too tired. “I get the summer, Az. Don’t contact me until school starts.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, but agreed. “Okay. I’ll see you in September,” he said, backing up towards his bike. “Have a good summer, bookworm,” he added with the slightest of smiles, before he slid on his helmet and drove away.

---

You spent most of the summer moping around, reading books, and trying to sort through everything that happened, all the feelings you had.

For three months, you sifted through every moment that Azriel and you had shared together, picking them apart, deciphering every movement.

It may have been slightly unhealthy.

You believed that what you and Azriel had was real. You believed that he did love you. And you couldn’t deny that you loved him. That maybe you always would.

Was it worth it to deny yourself the person who had made you so happy? Who had taught you new things, who had helped you out of your comfort zone?

As September grew closer, you still weren’t sure.

---

Azriel got more and more anxious as the summer came to a close. It had been torture to not contact you at all, but he knew he was in no position to be asking you for anything, so he did as you asked.

The hurt on your face those months ago was still a clear image in his mind that haunted his nightmares. He would never forgive himself for hurting you.

Yet, he couldn’t stop imagining what would happen when he saw you again. Would you give him another chance? You would have to be a saint to even contemplate that. But then again, you were the best person he had ever known. If anyone would be able to forgive, it would be you.

Scowling, he stomped that shred of hope down. He couldn’t go into this having any expectations.

Soon, he would know.

---

It was bittersweet coming back to school. Academia was where you thrived. You felt right at home in the library, stacks of papers all around you.

And you used to feel at home with Azriel.

You sighed at the thought. The first day of classes was tomorrow. You had told Azriel not to contact you until school started back up again, and knowing him, he would take that seriously.

Deep down, you knew what you wanted to do. It terrified you, though.

Sure enough, the next morning, you had a text from him:

Hey, bookworm. Hope your first day of classes goes well.

The slightest smile spread across your lips. You knew he was probably dying to ask when he could see you, but was trying to keep it light. Leave the ball in your court.

For the first time since everything, you texted him back.

Thanks, Az. Yours, too.

He opened it immediately. After a moment, you willed yourself to send another:

Wanna meet up at the tennis courts tonight?

His reply came at lightning speed:

Reigning in your smile, you replied:

You couldn’t remember ever being this nervous as you walked to the tennis courts. There were a few people playing, so you sat underneath a tree nearby, willing your legs to stop shaking.

Right on time, a familiar motorcycle turned into the parking lot. He spotted you immediately, striding over to you with unsure steps.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said quietly.

You looked up at him, your heart racing at the familiarity you felt. “Hi,” you said, and after the briefest hesitation, you patted the grass next to you. You weren’t sure you would be able to stand.

Immediately, he plopped down across from you, his knees only inches from yours as he faced you.

His eyes were locked on yours. “How was your summer?” he said, his voice cracking slightly.

“Okay,” you said. “How was yours?”

“Okay,” he said quietly.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “Okay, here’s the thing. I did a lot of thinking. A lot of thinking. And I do love you, Az.”

You paused, not sure how to word what you were feeling.

“But?” Azriel said, his voice dripping with trepidation, his eyes guarded.

“But it’s going to take some time before I can trust you again.”

Azriel swallowed, his eyes never wavering from yours.

He seemed like he was waiting for you to continue before he said anything, so you added, quietly, “I am willing to try, though. To give us another chance.”

The tautness in his body released, relief flooding his features. “Really?” he croaked, tears swimming in his eyes.

You could only nod before he launched towards you, knocking you on your back, before he threaded his fingers through your hair, kissing you deeply.

You laughed, as his other hand came up to cup your face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I swear I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you,” he said against your lips.

Wrapping your arms around him, you sighed into his kiss. “I know, Az. I know.”

“I love you,” he murmured, moving to kiss down your neck.

“I love you, too.”

“I missed you so much,” he groaned before kissing your lips again.

You giggled. “I missed you, too.”

He finally stopped kissing you, settling his elbows on either side of your head, leaning his forehead against yours. “Thank you. For giving me another chance.”

Smiling, you kissed him swiftly on the lips. “Don’t mess it up.”

“I won’t. I swear I won’t.”

The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon in each other’s arms, going over your respective summers.

Eventually, Azriel propped himself on an elbow, gazing at you with all the love in the world.

“What?” you asked.

He grinned. “You wanna go mini golfing, bookworm?”

You couldn’t help but return his smile. “Only if I can help you again.”

Azriel leaned down to gently kiss your forehead. “It’s a deal.”

A/N: wanna see more of these two?? Check out part 2!

@thalia-as-blog @saltedcoffeescotch

#acotar fic #acotar one shot #azriel x reader #acotar x reader #azriel one shot #acotar #azriel acotar #azriel fluff #azriel x you #azriel #azriel angst #acotar azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel fic #azriel fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #acotar angst

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natti-ice · 7 months

Note

dom!eddie x sub!reader

riding eddie on the couch and wayne catching them😋

Pairing: Dom!Eddie Munson x Sub!fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ mdni, p in v, getting caught, “slut” is used once

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

Your legs are wrapped around Eddie's waist as you rock your hips back and forth, you can feel every inch of his cock sliding in and out of your tightness. You let out soft breathless moans and wrap your arms around his neck and pushing yourself further onto him. Eddie's big and rough hands are gripping your hips tightly, guiding your body with every thrust.

"Good girl, ride my cock just like that" he praises and starts to move your body a little faster, you can feel the old dated couch beneath the both of you start to sink as things become more intense. Eddie nuzzles his face into your neck, his warm breath tickles which turns you on even more. "You're such a good little slut for me" he whispers, lust laced in every syllable.

The only thing that could be heard in the trailer were your moans and the sound of skin slapping together as you began to bounce up and down on his cock. "Oh fuck, baby" you moaned out loudly, the immense pleasure started to turn your brain to mush, you couldn't comprehend anything else going on around you except for fucking Eddie. And damn, you love fucking Eddie.

Eddie moved his hands from your hips, allowing you to keep the pace, and grabs both of your tits. He squeezes them roughly, not enough to hurt you but just enough to make you go crazy. His calloused thumbs graze your hard and sensitive nipples causing you to whimper softly at just the slightest touch. "Mmm" he hums "so responsive"

You were both so caught up in the moment you didn't hear the trailer door open, it wasn't till you heard the older man's gravelly voice did you realize you weren't alone. "Dear lord" Wayne Munson spoke, your eyes widen and immediately try to get off of Eddie but he pulled you back down and threw a blanket over you haphazardly. You couldn't bring yourself to look at Wayne, seeing his face would make this even worse.

“Uncle Wayne!” Eddie yells out, annoyed that you two were interrupted “do you mind?”

“Um,” you can hear the shock and bewilderment in Wayne’s voice “I’ll just uh-” before he finished his sentence you could hear quick steps and the door slam shut. Eddie lets out a frustrated sigh and looks back up at you.

“So, where were we?” He says casually as if unfazed by what happened, his cock still buried deep inside you.

“What?” Your heart was beating out of your chest with embarrassment and lingering desire, you couldn’t believe you got caught but it gave you quite the rush “we can’t keep going” you try to reason with him but you knew it was no good.

“We can and we are,” he says with finality in his voice and begins to thrust up into you “I don’t care who sees, this is my pussy and I decide when I fuck it, understood?” He increases his pace and hold you in place as he jackhammers into your wet hole

The feeling of his cock stretching you out was too good to resist, you knew it was wrong but Eddie had a way of making you feel things no one else could, moans start to flow freely from you once again.

“Yes, sir”

Tags: @ali-r3n @thebiggestnaturaldisaster @canmargesimpson @nailbatanddungeon @queermaxwooo @zestychili @skrzydlak @supersmexyandhot @themadhattersqueen @arthurcerverogf @marshymallo

Join a tag list!

#natti’s 18+#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #dom!eddie munson #sub!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things smut

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nikkisheep · 1 year

Text

To Be Alone With You

Anthony Bridgerton x female!Sharma!reader

Warnings: Smut, TENSION, cursing, oral (f), reader is Kate's full sister, kissing, touching when not supposed to, Anthony and his voice (warning himself), virgin reader (innocent ofc), sex on a dock (lol), kinda public sex, slight angst

I am so sorry that it got so long but it is so worth it. This is also my first Bridgerton fic so hope its good. :)

Summary: It was time that Anthony Bridgerton to finally meet the final Sharma sister who may stand in his way of marrying Miss Edwina Sharma but not like he expected her to.

Anthony Bridgerton was a man who was used to having any woman melt and cling to his every word. Women practically threw themselves at his feet the moment he walked in the room. His presence was a strong one, making everyone eager to please the viscount.

When Viscount Bridgerton met Edwina Sharma, the newly named "Diamond of the Season", he was happy that he could find at least one woman with half a brain. Miss Edwina was the suitable bride and soon Viscountess. It was almost too easy, so he thought. That was until he met the elder sister of Miss Edwina. Kate Sharma, a woman of one and twenty who was unwed herself, was a challenge that Anthony could not refuse. He fell into a pursuit to win over the eldest Sharma sister, doing everything by the book. Well, with a few exceptions.

The Viscount did not want a love match. He could never fall in love with the woman who will bear his children. He just couldn't. And Miss Edwina Sharma was exactly the woman who he could not possibly love but, she would make a wonderful bride for him to breed and come to have a heir to fill the Viscount role when Anthony died.

A last, his mother, Viscountess Violet Bridgerton, had invited the Sharma family to visit the lovely Aubrey Halls. It would be Mrs. Mary Sharma, the lovely girls' mother, Miss Edwina Sharma and then Miss Kate Sharma. Anthony was ready to deal with Kate when she arrived.

---

Dinner was being served when the thunder started. Benedict seemed like he had lost his mind, no doubt had drank Colin's tea that he brought from his travels.

"Have you noticed, Col?" Benedict asked, "The twinkles of the candles, it is as....as if we sit among the stars."

Eloise snorted and looked to her older brother, "What is wrong with you?''

"I was just telling Benedict how brilliant the stars were in Greece," answered Colin.

Benedict went to take a sip of his wine but knocked it over, causing Violet and the other ladies to gasp at the table. The brother smiled and rubbed his hands over his cheeks in an innocent way.

"Lord Bridgerton, Miss Sharma here," A butler said.

"Whatever do you mean, Miss Sharma is here? How many are there?"

In just a few seconds a woman walks in, wearing the similar purple dress that the Sharma sisters were wearing. She looked identical to Kate, except her eyes were lighter. Her hair was more brown than black and she held her head high. Her presence was enough to even sober up Benedict for a moment.

"Is it just me or is there two Kates?" Benedict said, mind foggy.

"I am so sorry for my late arrival. Lady Bridgerton, the house is lovely." The woman said.

Violet blushed and thanked the woman. The older woman always enjoyed getting compliments about her home that she shared with Edmund.

"You said you couldn't make it," Edwina states as she moves to hug the woman. Everyone was confused as a goose until Kate stood up.

"This is my sister," Kate said, moving to stand by her.

You introduce yourself and smile at everyone, that is until you see Anthony. He had this look about him and you couldn't quite tell.

"I assume this is the viscount you were telling me about, Kate?" You said.

"Yes, this is Lord Bridgerton. He is the viscount and is to marry Edwina."

You looked at him and he just smirked. He had found a new toy to play with. And god did he want to play.

You looked at him.

"My lord, forgive me for my tartiness," You say, voice rich.

"All is forgiven, my lady." He had a hard look.

"Please, I am hardly a noble lady to earn that title,'' You tease.

Anthony was taken by surprise, no one had ever teased about their noblity or anything. Being a proper lady is very serious and not taken lightly. There was another Sharma sister, but at least this one seemed nice. For now.

---

You were quite the most annoying and challenging lady Anthony had the misery to meet. You talked too much, you jested a bit, your teasing with Benedict made his blood boil. Your words melting off your tongue and practically bringing Anthony's younger brother to his knees.

Benedict's face had blushed right before you move to rest your hand on his shoulder.

"My dear, Benedict, how are you?" You asked kindly, flashing that beautiful smile that made everyone melt.

"I am quite well, Miss Sharma." He looked down right flustered with your presence beside him.

Lady Bridgerton held a small ball at Aubrey Hall and Benedict had just finished dancing with you. The two of you had swept through the floor, everyone in envy that Mr. Bridgerton's attention was solely on you.

"Brother, I hate to steal our guest from you but I am in need of a dance," Anthony stepped in to say.

"I suppose that I have one dance in me," You laughed.

"I hadn't asked yet," Anthony said.

"Well, in that case, Benedict you wouldn't mind having yet another dance with me?" You smirked when Anthony rolled his eyes and groaned.

Once you got on the dance floor, Anthony could not keep his eyes off you, even as he danced with Edwina and Kate.

"My brother seems to be taking a liking to you," Benedict smiled.

"Please, he wants to marry my sister. After all, who even said I wanted him. Maybe I want you," You whisper the last part in his ear. He shudders against you and smiles.

"Is that true now, Miss Sharma?"

"Perhaps."

----

Pall Mall was the ruthless game that the Bridgerton's ever played. The Mallet of Death sat in your hands as Benedict had handed it to you with a wink and a sly smile. You blushed at the brother's antics.

He moved to be closer to you and whispered something in your ear which made you snort aloud and Kate looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Who has my bloody mallet?" Anthony's voice boomed in the air.

"My lord, I do not know," Kate smirked.

"Where is it?"

You coughed to clear your throat, suddenly bringing the Viscount's attention to you. That might have been a bad idea. It surely was.

"You...You have my mallet, I believe."

"I do?" You inquired.

"Yes, Miss Sharma, you do."

"Well, I suppose that I could just give it to you," You start to hand it to him, his siblings surprised at how easy you were giving it up, and Anthony was smiling, "But first you will have to catch me." You took off running down the field and Anthony just watched in surprise.

"Did she?"

"I believe she did," Daphne laughed. She watched as her older brother looked as if he wanted to blow up.

"Dear brother, I think you should go get her if that mallet is very important to you." Colin laughed as Anthony ran down the field, looking for you as the Mallet of Death rested in your possession.

He ran looking for you and he heard your sweet giggle coming from in the garden. He looked to see that everyone had given up on waiting for them and started the match without the two of you. He walked around the garden to find you crouching behind a hedge and was covering your mouth as you looked around the side of the bush, hoping to not be seen.

His boots moved to quietly as he stalked closer to your frame. He then grabbed your waist and picked you up, causing you to gasp into his hand.

"Lord Bridgerton, put me down this instant."

He placed you down on the ground and stands close to your body. His warmth and scent poured over you in waves. He smelt like sweat, dirt, body wash, slight scent of vanilla, and sandalwood?

"Lord Bridger-"

"Anthony, my name is Anthony." He said, panting at the closeness that he had created.

"My lord-"

"Anthony."

"My lord, it is improper to call you by your given name," You say, trying to catch your breath and not breathe his scent in.

"And us being in my mother's garden alone is very improper, I dare say, Miss Sharma."

Your smell floods his senses when he takes a deep breath and move closer to you, chests touching. The smell of dirt, sweat, lilies and Jasmine? God, it drove him crazy. Just being around you drove him crazy.

"You followed me here.''

"You ran here."

"You chased me."

"You took my mallet."

"I-" You stutter, "Benedict gave it to me."

He looks at you with something dark in his eyes, something that burned with fiery. His hand came to touch your waist and you nearly melt. He looks at your chest, noticing that you were wearing the Bridgerton color. You normally wore purple but you were wearing the baby blue that stood for his family.

"You are wearing my family color," He says, blood rushing some where it did not need to be.

"Oh, I had not known that I wasn't allowed to wear blue."

"It stands for my family and you...are...wearing...my...color."

His body presses closer to you, invading your space. He moves to corner you against the tall hedge, the only thing keeping your situation from any on lookers.

His mouth moves to rest beside your ear, hot breath fanning over the exposed skin there, goosebumps rising on your skin.

"You want something, I can sense it."

You shudder.

"And what would that be, my lord?"

"You want me," He said lowly.

"You are to marry Edwina," You correct him.

"That doesn't change that you desire me," He chuckles at your attempt.

"I beg your pardon. You are a rake and I have no desire for such a person like you. You are to marry my sister, not me. If you wish to be with my sister than act like it, if not then leave her alone. I will not be some play thing for you to play with when you want to."

"Oh but you are my play toy. You are whatever I want you to be. Do you know why?" He asked.

"Why?"

"Because all I have to do is whisper real close to your ear, like this," He moved even closer, "And tell you that I desire you in ways that would make any mama blush and cry out for improper topics to a lady."

You take in a ragged breath.

"Desire me?"

"Yes, why do you think I came out here to get you?"

"To get your mallet?"

"No, so I can have you."

" You are courting my sister to marry. I am done with this topic and I am leaving this garden. Good day, Lord Bridgerton."

---

Anthony was reeling. He couldn't stop thinking about you. He can't sleep at night because of you. It wasn't your fault. No, it was your fault. You were the one who kept reminding him of his soon to be proposal to your sister and putting him in his place. Heavens above, he couldn't help but be aroused when you put him where he was meant to be. And that perfume that you have, Jasmine and Lillies, god it did things to him.

---

The day had been hot, very hot and you knew that you shouldn't but you were burning for a swim in the lake. You couldn't help it. After being in the garden with the Viscount, it felt you aflame.

Sneaking out of your chambers, you made your way outside to the lake that rested toward the trees.

Looking around, you made sure that no one was up and you were making sure that you were not followed. You made your way to a tree and took off your coat. Yo began your task of unbuttoning your gown.

Anthony watched you remove each piece of fabric from your body as he made his way down to the lake himself. He had not known that you were going to be here. He had not expected it. He always goes for a midnight swim when he couldn't sleep. Why he couldn't sleep? You.

Slipping onto the dock, you take a dive, cold water enveloping your body. It felt heavenly against your heated skin. Anthony was never to be allowed to know that he was the reason behind the midnight swim in the lake. You swam to the middle and was sighing while looking up to the moon. The entire lake was lit by the moon, banishing all shadows from being cast onto your face. You looked angelic.

Anthony slipped in the water after stripping completely bare and went underwater. He wanted to see you move about when you were by yourself. He had wanted to see you nude, part of his mind begging him to see what you looked like, but you were still a lady and he was a gentleman.

You heard a splash and you turned around very quickly, spotting none other than Anthony Bridgerton. You knew you were caught and he would laugh at you but he just swam closer. You could only see his shoulders and water was dripping down them to be collected back to the lake.

"My lord-"

"I do believe that we are now way past formalities," He chuckled.

He was silently begging to hear his name fall from your lips. He knew this was wrong. You were his betrothed sister. You were a lady. You were innocent. If he took that from you, you would be ruined. But...but you looked so desirable. You looked just ready to be ravished by his mouth. To be tasted in places that you had never thought of to be touched. To be submitted to such incredible pleasure that Anthony knew that he could bring you. To be his.

He swam closer to you, grabbing your hand which he used to pull you until you were placing your hands on his shoulders to hold onto. You gasped at how warm he still was, even in the chilled water of the night. Anthony looked at you, smiling when he realizes that you move even closer, your legs brushing every time you move to keep yourselves afloat.

"I want you," He admits.

He kisses your lips, groaning when you kiss back only for a second before he feels himself being pushed away from you.

"You are engaged to my sister," You say.

"Not yet."

"But-"

"But, I want you. I don't want Edwina. I don't want Kate. I want you," He says, "I desire you."

Anthony kissed your lips once more, swallowing any sound coming from your mouth. His tongue brushed yours and you moaned. You had never done that but with Anthony, you felt so good you couldn't keep it inside.

Anthony had you wrap your legs around his waist, feeling something quite odd in between his legs but you didn't question it when he took your breast into his awaiting mouth. He sucked your nipple and ran his tongue around it as he teased you mercilessly. Your hair was down so it was hanging in the water as you threw your head back in bliss as he moved to bite at your collarbones and neck.

Anthony moved the two of you all the way to the dock, picking you up out of the water and seating you directly onto the hard wood. He then watches as you move back, suddenly aware of how exposed you are to him. He puts his hands on the dock and pushes himself out of the water, droplets trickling down his slightly hairy chest down to his now every noticeable something. You didn't know what on earth it could even be.

"What is that?" You said shyly, pointing to his hips.

"That would be my cock." He just chuckled.

"It looks hard," You said, "does it hurt?"

He groaned at your innocence. God, you were going to be the death of him. You looked so nervous to even ask and then when you did, you blushed deeply. You were so cute.

"It hurts some times when I desire someone really bad," He explained.

"Like Edwina? Did it ever hurt for Edwina or Kate?" You asked softly.

"No, never with them. I want you," He said, holding your face, "God, you consume every thought that I make. You make it so, so hard to be a gentleman. There is no way that I can escape you, no matter how hard I try because you are always in my mind."

He kissed you once more and you let him. You were going to forget about Edwina, who the man currently moving in between your legs and kissing every inch of your body, was supposed to get married to. You were going to forget the rules of being a proper lady. You were going to forget formalities and just revel in the pleasure that is being caused by the mouth of your sister's soon to be betrothed.

"Anthony!" You cried when he made contact with the little bud between your folds and he licked it. Your body was shot with electricity that sent your back to be arching.

He hummed against your core and went back to sucking on your clit. No one or nothing could have prepared you for the Viscount's tongue to slip inside of you. He had done so when you were pulling on his hair as you grasped for anything but you could not find anything to ground you. Anthony swept you away in pure pleasure as he ate you like a starved man. He drank anything your body was willing to give and he took it with a groan. His eyes rolled back as he tasted you.

"Oh, my lord-"

"It's Anthony. Just Anthony," He said before staring at your weeping cunt.

Your hands pulled at the man's hair and his other hand, that wasn't holding down your hips, moved up to grab a hold of your free hand that was gripping your breast. Your back arched when he made one last circle with his tongue on your clit and you burst with carnal desire. You shook against Anthony's mouth as he drank you in.

He thought you were so beautiful laying out for him, under the stars on his dock, wet hair after a late night swim and most of all, the way the moon shone down on you. You looked ever so innocent but oh so dirty.

"Are you okay?" He asked when he noticed you not moving but still shaking.

"I'm more than okay."

He laughed and began kissing up your body. His tongue poked out every once and a while as he traveled up to your mouth. The taste of yourself was erotic. You had never known something could exist. Anthony moved on top of you and positioned himself so that his cock would rest between your sensitive folds. He had to contain himself so that he wouldn't cum right on the spot.

You gave him a nod before he claimed your lips as he pushed himself inside your waiting body. You moaned out loud before you started panting against Anthony's mouth as the two of you tried to adjust to the sudden feeling. His arms shook as his head fell onto your chest as your hand ran through his hair, pulling slightly.

"Are you ready for me to move because if you aren't that's okay but I really need to move?" Water trickled down his body as he held himself above you, looking down at you.

"Please, Anthony." He smiled at his name and started to slowly pull out, letting you feel every ridge and vein his dick possessed and you were enjoying it. Anthony thrusted back in and your head fell back against the wooden dock. As Anthony thrusted his cock in and out of you, the only things that could be heard was your labored breathing and the sounds of your bodies moving against each other as the two of you reached new heights together and the sound of crickets chirping in the grass.

"Oh, god you feel so good," Anthony groaned.

"So fucking good," You panted, hips rising to match his. You were chasing something but you didn't know what. You didn't even know what was happening when your muscles started to tighten and some kind of euphoria started to crash down on you.

Anthony's breathing got caught in his throat as he watched your face contort in pleasure as he pumped himself constantly in you, trying to reach his end. He looked at your blissful face and decided that you would give him another.

"Just one more, darling, and then I can fill you up real nice." His hand went in between your legs as he watched himself move inside and out of you. His thumb began circling your clit, his cock hitting the right spots every time, his face tightening in desirable lust as he held himself above you, moving faster, trying to make you cum for a third time before he got his.

"Oh, Anthony!" You moan before he places a kiss on your lips to silence you. You cum one last time and Anthony unloads himself completely in you once bottoming out inside you. You laid there with him as he felt the aftershocks of his orgasm and you shuddered at the sudden cold.

Anthony kisses you lazily as he feels you giggle against his lips when he sighs into you. He pulls out and then shudders at the cold.

"I think we should go get some nice warm milk and sit by the fire to warm up," He proposes.

"Won't we get caught?"

"Darling, we just had sex on the dock in front of my house and you are worried about getting caught with some milk by the fire?" He laughed.

"Well, I can't be seen with you alone."

"Fine, but let's get dressed and go inside so we can sleep."

"In the same room?" You ask in a quiet voice.

"Not yet. We might get caught."

"Maybe getting caught wouldn't be so bad then," You giggle when you see his bare ass.

"Oh you are a little minx," Anthony groans.

"Maybe," You gasp when he picks you up after you get dressed and then carries you inside.

He takes you to your room and puts you down so you can stand. He doesn't want to let go but he knows he needs to leave soon.

''Good night, Miss Sharma." He said with a kiss.

"Good night, Lord Bridgerton," You sigh against his lips.

The kiss is passionate but is cut short when the clock decided to strike three and make a loud noise. You both laugh and he sees you close the door and he then walks to his chambers.

He finally can go to sleep with a smile on his face. A smile that didn't disappear the following day until he realized that he had to propose to your sister, Edwina Sharma.

#anthony bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton smut #anthony bridgerton smut #anthony bridgerton x sharma!reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton x female!reader #anthony bridgerton x reader smut #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton s2 #to be alone with you

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lanabuckybarnes · 6 months

Text

18+ Minors DNI

How about an under cover mission with Bucky that gets comprised because he sees the high slit in your dress, the way it hugs your body so perfectly and those tits— he couldn’t let you leave the safe house in that.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: unholy amount of dirty talk, like oh lord it just don’t stop, a lil smidge of possessive buck.

He’s got a deep dark look in this GIF that drives me WILD.

“This isn’t happening” he groaned into the earpiece once he ripped his eyes from you, only for you to walk in front of him and give him a view of your perfect ass wrapped in black. He can feel his slacks becoming uncomfortable the more he continues to blare his steel blues into your figure.

“Bucky?” You turned to look at him after sensing his eyes on you and, shit, the fucking whine in your tone, you were doing it on purpose, weren’t you? You wanted him to fuck this whole mission up just for a piece of that ass and yes, yes you did.

“You’re not wearing that” his voice strained as he struggled to maintain his regular grumpy old man façade. A darkness falling over his eyes that only you knew— that possessive darkness that melted into his eyes whenever he thought they’d be other eyes on you but his.

“What do you mean Buck? The dress? It’s just the get-up, it’ll be fine for a few hours”, nothing got past your eyes. You saw his blue hues run themselves down your body, the way he shifted uncomfortably in those trousers.

He sighed, hands moved quickly, pulling the earpiece from his ear before everything about him invaded your senses. The way he ran his nose up your neck to the top of your head, savouring that oh-so-familiar scent mixed with the artificial perfume you’d been tasked to wear.

“Buck!-“

“Shhh, I told you sweetheart…. You’re not leaving in that. At least not until I can make sure everyone knows you’re mine” His voice was husky, his cologne rich and his overall presence domineering— your legs wobbled almost dropping you to the floor before his thigh slot itself between them. His throat growled at the feeling of your clothed heat against him.

“I feel that pretty pussy, she doesn’t wanna leave either”. His words sent a cold shiver down your spine, his right hand trailed down from its position on your hip to your thigh, the other following suit not long after. The different temperatures in both hands caused a desperate whine to fall from your lips and a buck of your hips against the scratchy fabric before you could stop it.

“You’re a good girl ain’t you? My good little girl— jump for me baby” His hot breath fogged up your senses, till everything was him. It was all Bucky.

With your legs now wrapped around his waist your heat pressed perfectly against him, his control over himself was slipping dramatically. He didn’t care about the damn mission anymore, just you.

“Fuck baby I’m losing my mind, you’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you? Corrupting this poor old man’s brain, making him think of nothing more than that fucking cunt huh?” He enunciated the last few words with heavy snaps of hips into you, his hardness rubbing you just right drawing weak little moans from that pretty mouth.

“Good girl, all desperate for me… you want that cock hmm? Tell me you want it” he groaned against your mouth when you rubbed that heat against him.

“I want it, I want it please” fuck you were so pitiful, you’d promised yourself you’d never beg for a man yet here you were— rubbing your little body all over the front of Bucky’s slacks and begging him to do god knows what to your body.

“You’re so sweet, even threw in a little please for me” his brows quirked as his left hand ventured down between your bodies. The cool metal wrapped around the now sodden lace sent a pleasured shock throughout your body, the cold knuckles brushing against your swollen nub, a soft little ‘fuck’ falling from his smug lips at the feeling of your dripping pussy as he pushed the panties to the side.

“You’re so ready, my little lady all soaked for me— fuck you’re driving me insane I can’t think of anything but that pussy” he mumbled pulling himself from his fly and jerking his length with the essence your hole had left on the metal of his fingers.

“You ready baby?” His words were uncharacteristically sweet as he rubbed his spongy tip over your little bundle of nerves before tapping himself on it softly, biting back a smile when your body jerked at the action.

“Mhmm” you could only nod and moan, that was enough for him. He was thick and long as he pushed in, even after countless nights together you’d never get over the way he filled you.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” He held onto your hips tightly as his sweaty head fell onto your breasts. “fucking— almost came right there” he moaned before bucking up into you at a glorious pace. The movement of his hips was overwhelming, the cold metal of his fly brushing over your clit at every jerk of his hips, you’d be on cloud 9 before you knew it.

“That’s it, clench around me baby, milk me nice and good” fuck his words were filthy, far different than the Bucky he’d show everyone else— nah this was just for you.

“Shit sweetie! I’m close” he choked on a moan and plunged deep into you, your heat fluttering with its release at the feeling of his cum pressing against your cervix.

The room silenced of all sounds except your heavy breathing and Bucky’s lips nibbling and sucking on your neck, leaving the marks he promised he would.

“You know we can hear you right?” Sam mumbled from the earpiece but your lips were too busy on Bucky’s to care, you’d deal with it all later right now you had Bucky and that’s all that mattered.

It’s feral, it’s devious, it’s Bucky I can’t help myself.

#bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #marvel #bucky smut #mcu bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #beefy bucky

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mediumgayitalian · 5 months

Text

———

She brushes another kiss to his hidden face and settles against the car door, holding him. She thinks for a moment and decides on something old, a tune she heard on the radio once upon a time and never heard again; she’s warped it, now, no doubt about it, humming it from memory so long it’s changed to whatever she has made it. But Will recognises it from years of lullabies, picking up on the swooping baritones and mumbling the words into her shoulder.

“You know, that Han Solo shrine up in your room makes a lot more sense, now that I think about it.”

The melody dies in his throat.

“Mama.”

“I’m just saying.” She bites back a smirk, swatting away his smacking hands. “There was a point in time I thought it was admiration, you know, but you have a lot of posters of that open vest —”

“Mama!”

She acquiesces, this time, never having seen his poor face so scarlet, trying and failing to keep her laughter to herself. The tear tracks have long since dried and his breathing is steady, now, gangly limbs tucked into her ribs and hanging off the bend of her thigh. Flopped all over her like he used to to when he was young and she was still touring, when the world was too loud and too bright and too mean and she hid him from the sun. Her hands in his hair are to touch instead of soothe.

“Who’s the boy?”

“No.”

“C’mon, babydoll.” She pokes at his ribs, grinning widely when he rolls his eyes to hide his smile. “Tell me.”

“It’s nobody, Ma, gods.”

“Yeah, right. Not like you were comparing having a crush to killing someone in cold blood twenty minutes ago. Clearly it’s somebody.”

He, very pointedly, doesn’t answer.

Unfortunately, he forgets that he gets his stubborn from her.

“Hm. Can’t be anyone I haven’t heard of in a few weeks, or else it wouldn’t be bothering you. What names have you mentioned?”

He looks at her in horror. “You wouldn’t.”

Absolutely, she would. Her smile widens.

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess it ain’t Chiron, ‘cause then I’d have questions —”

“Oh my gods! Stop!”

“— an’ I doubt it’s that security fellow, with the eyes, although if it is no judgement —”

“I’m throwing myself out of this car! Right now! I’m gonna lay on the road ‘til someone hits me!”

“— Lord, you don’t mention many names. You’re a recluse, baby. You gotta make more than two friends.”

She stills. Will, perhaps guessing where she is going, makes a noise of deep, personal agony.

“Oh my stars, is it Cecil?”

“Ew, Ma!”

He strains against her hold but she tightens, hooking her elbow around his shoulders and flexing her other hand, pretending to examine her nails.

“It is, isn’t it? I mean, he is a very handsome young man. And he has a good heart, too, despite the — how to put it — distaste for the law —”

“I just threw up in my mouth! Right now! Stop it!”

“I should probably stop letting him stay in your room when he stays over, huh, that one’s on me —”

He wrenches himself away from her, finally, clambering over the seats and gagging like the mere idea makes him nauseous.

“Ew! Ew! I do not have a thing for Cecil, oh my gods, I might as well marry my cousin! Augh! I’m gonna throw up for real! Why would you even say that, oh my —”

“Alright, alright!” she laughs, kicking his rapidly repeating shoulder. “Holy Jesus, you are dramatic. I should call up camp and tell him you’re out here retchin’ at the mere thought.”

“Good,” Will says darkly, voice muffled from how deeply his head is buried in his hands, “make sure to also tell him he is a weasel.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And that I am going to deface his vintage Hot Wheels collection.”

“Y’all have a strange friendship.”

“He’s not my friend, I am stuck with him via circumstance and because he refuses to leave me alone.”

She holds up her hands in surrender, refraining from pointing out the friendship bracelet he is currently wearing with a CM on it and that has not left his wrist in four years.

“Alright, alright. Not Cecil.”

He scoffs in agreement, ignoring her rolled eyes.

She wracks her brain for other boys he’s brought up in their phone calls, aside from people in passing. Mostly he mentions patients, really, answering her endless inquiries — it will never stop astounding her that he baby can practically sew heads back on bodies; she tells people he’s in med school and preens at their wide, impressed eyes — but there are other people he mentions, in between that and the pranks he’s frequently pulling with his friends.

“There was that boy you were so excited to keep around. Nick?”

“His name is Nico,” he corrects, and then immediately goes scarlet. “I — I mean, I have a friend, named Nico, not that —”

Her grin gets sharp as nails.

“He is — unwell! He’s travelled a lot, he needs monitoring so I am — monitoring him, you know, out of concern for his safety —”

“Nico and Wi-ill, sitting in a tree —”

“Oh my gods are you five —”

“You are steaming! I can actually feel the heat pouring off of you right now! You love him, you want to kiss him, you —”

“I am never telling you anything again in my entire life!” he hollers. “Never! Next time I think I should tell you something I’m just gonna — swallow glass!”

She snickers. “Drama queen.”

He sticks out his tongue as she situates herself back in her own seat, turning the keys in the engine. His puts his dirty converse on the dash despite her grouching, reaching over to fight her for control of the radio, flapping his hand excitedly when she lets him win and something bright and overdone starts playing. His bandage stays where it is, tied loosely around his wrist.

“I’m glad you told me, you know.”

He smiles, small and genuine, leaning into the palm she cups around his cheek. The dimple in the centre of his right cheek is back, the scrunch of his freckled nose. She presses a lingering kiss smack dab in the centre of his forehead and he leans into it, trusting.

“I know.”

#okay THATS it #do i like this as much as the first part? no it’s less impactful. but it is fun so idc #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #will solace #naomi solace #will solace & naomi solace #solangelo #fluff #my writing #fic #longpost

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moodymisty · 4 months

Text

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's note: Brain rot brain rot brain rot

Summary: Sanguinus pins for someone he knows he cannot have; Horus’ lover.

Relationships: Onesided Sanguinius/Fem!Reader, Horus Lupercal/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Pining, Guilty wank, Masturbation, Sanguinius is in love with Horus' beloved and he's so torn about it, Does yanking one out to the thought of fucking your pseudo-brother's future wife qualify as a warning?

The door to Sanguinius' private chambers closes behind him with a heavy slam that shakes the wall, sending the Blood Angels outside to high alert. Sanguinius winces at how much he threw the door in his anger. Now they all know he's irritated. They’ll surely ask about it later, and he’ll have to brush it off or come up with some sort of excuse to keep his captains and commanders from worrying.

Rarely does Sanguinius let his gentle facade crack, but he couldn't help it. Not this time.

Sanguinius smiled as Horus approached him, a wide smile on the Warmaster's face. His expression was warm, pleased to see him.

"My brother! How are you?"

Horus came in close and raised his left hand, clapping Sanguinius' right shoulder and holding it there. Within moments the angel's face had faltered, as the sweet scent covering Horus' hand hit his nose.

It's you.

He smelled the gentle flowers of your perfume, the salt of your sweat, and overwhelming it all was the saccharine sweet scent of your cunt on his fingers.

Horus had pleasured you so recently, the bastard might have just done so and came to talk to him, while you were still panting in another room.

Sanguinius struggled to maintain his composure- as anger, loathing and jealously all heated to a boil within him. He had tried to ignore the obvious fact for months that Horus could touch you so intimately, unlike him. But to have it shoved in his face, to flaunt what he can't have, Sanguinius wanted to do nothing more than rip away his hand and shove Horus away from him.

Out of all of them, Horus was one of the few who actually seemed to enjoy the chatter, the parties and the diplomacy. At least outwardly; Horus has always been very good at hiding how he actually feels. So of course he would be the one out of all of them to find someone. You were the daughter of a lord, owning one of the galaxy's largest trading ports. Some of the materials needed to make rations for the astartes comes from your homeworld. It worked perfectly; Horus had closer command over the ability to feed his ever growing legion, and you both had fallen for each other like star crossed lovers.

If his relationship with you was purely transactional, diplomatic, Sanguinius could feel less guilt slipping between to steal a moment of your time. But he's barely spoken to you without Horus around. You smile at him politely and given him the proper respect; He's heard you utter his titles with only respect and reverence. All the while you stay latched to Horus' arm, the two of you deeply in love; And you none the wiser that an angel pins for you.

Why does he need you so badly? Is it because he knows he can't have you? Or because you speak so sweetly, and he sees the way you look at Horus and he wants that for himself. He’s wanted it since the first time Horus introduced you.

Sanguinius will never forget the day Horus proclaimed you his beloved, and he realized he was too late.

Sanguinus throws his weight down on the edge of his bed with a thud, it creaking and complaining under his abuse. The fabric of his clothing wrinkles underneath him, bunching upward. He puts his head in his hands, elbows digging into his thighs.

He sits in silence, the feathers of his wings tight and pulled close to his body, until he shifts his legs and groans at the feeling.

He's been avoiding thinking about it. Hoping it would go away. He can feel how hard he is against his thigh, the smell of you had triggered something deep within him that was uncontrollable.

It wouldn't be the first time.

Almost angrily Sanguinius pulls at his clothing to free his cock, and groans angrily at the way he'd already leaked against his thigh. His one hand still supports his head as he wraps the other around his shaft, with little gentleness or care. Unlike what he would imagine you would do- with the soft, delicate fingers of your own hands.

He would be so gentle with you; His hands would never bruise you, his fangs would never scar you. Unless you wanted those things, to have him treat you roughly. Then he would of course oblige.

His fist tightly slides along his cock, other hand pushing a chunk of hair from his face. His leaned posture makes a pocket of hot air in front of his face, flushing his skin. His hips nudge forward, trying to drive himself deeper into the warmth of own hand. His thumb brushes over the head of his cock, his slit, and he bites the inside of his bottom lip.

If he had done differently, would you be with him instead? He remembers shortly before you’d met Horus mentioning he needed to speak with planetary governors and Sanguinius had gave a pitying laugh; If he'd joined Horus, would things have changed? Would you be wearing gold and red instead of green?

Sanguinius groans, feeling his cock throb in his hand. It's working, he feels himself getting closer and closer stomach getting tighter, but it isn't what he wants. It will work, but he knows well that it won't leave him satisfied. if anything he'll feel more empty than he was before, until it eventually fades for more pressing matters.

But stars, if he closes his eyes tight enough, clenches his hand enough, he can just maybe imagine what it would feel like if it was you. It isn't warm enough, tight enough, wet enough, but he can just barely trick himself. The feeling of you underneath him, of him slowly trying to push his cock into you; It would barely fit but he's sure if he went slow, you could take it. Your legs would struggle to fit his hips between them, but you would try to open your legs as wide as possible just to fit him.

You would sound enchanting the entire time, he's sure of it. Your voice is so soft and sweet in comparison to the booming voices he's used to, he'd struggle not to be overwhelmed by your soft cries as he fucked you and pushed you to your limit. He knows you would already be so tight, but to feel your cunt tighten around him as you came he's sure he'd barely be able to handle it; His hand moving quicker over his cock as he loses himself in his own imagination.

He would fill you to the absolute brim until you mewled helplessly, stuffed full of his own cum and forced open by his cock. Afterwards you'd look up at him- only him. Maybe you'd beg him for more, asking your angel to fuck you again and again and again until you could barely walking without feeling his cum leak down your thighs, dripping from your sore little cunt.

Or maybe you'd raise a hand up, tuck a piece of hair behind his ear as his crown braids unraveled, before you hand gently brushed along the soft feathers of his wings. You'd smile again, maybe laugh, and speak his name. He's only heard you say it twice, every other time you've always called him Lord Primarch, and he has that moment seared into his memory.

"Thank you, Sanguinius."

The angel swears, biting the inside of his cheek until he tastes the bitter iron of his own blood. His cock throbs and pulses as he finally cums on and over his hand, letting out an uncharacteristic moan at the feeling of overwhelming release as his hand continues to slide up and down his own cock to milk himself dry. He hadn't realized how long it had been since the last time he'd done this; He'd never felt much desire to until you.

Finally he dispels himself from his own memory and opens his eyes, instantly coming face to face with mess on the floor and staining his boots.

Sanguinius sighs. He is quite the angel.

He knows he should return to the Red Tear; They are due to depart and return to Baal. And you'll return with Horus to the Vengeful Spirit, laying in Horus' bed as the Warmaster kisses your skin, and not him.

Getting up he rustles his wings to right his feathers, adjusting his clothes. He finds something to clean the evidence of his shame away and then once he's done, he leaves his quarters to go pretend he is happy for Horus once more.

#sanguinius x reader #primarch x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting #Sanguinius/reader/Horus plotline

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minhypen · 6 days

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　LISTEN TO ALPHA, BABYGIRL

♬ 　 Riki was Minyoung's boy, even if he was a weird boy sometimes.

WC › 0.4k words GENRE › fluff, crack (my attempt at humor) WARNiNG › cursing, ni-ki uses 'babygirl' and 'alpha' (obviously) NOTE › dedicated to my moon mootie @sunsmintie who makes out-of-pocket omegaverse jokes and my soulmate @enmi-luv who unashamedly matches her freak

DiSCLAiMER The way I portray Enhypen is simply to fit my plot, it does not represent the idols themselves. This drabble is neither suggestive nor is it meant to sexualise Ni-ki in any way.

𝐅𝐢𝐅𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 of Nishimura Riki　　 (Weird ver.)

MINYOUNG LOVED RIKI WITH ALL HER HEART. He was the best boyfriend she could ask for—romantic, caring, hot, playful...

...and sometimes, just straight out weird.

But she didn't mind, he was her boy after all.

Sometime in April 2024

It started with a silly argument. Both of them wanted to lie on top of the other, feeling the need to be taken care of after a particularly exhausting day.

Minyoung would usually accept being laid on, but her body felt extra fragile that day. Riki was not an easy weight to support, obviously, and Minyoung just wanted to feel her boyfriend's hands caressing her as his heartbeat lulled her to sleep. She was just a girl, after all.

She didn't think it was too much to ask for, especially since Riki got to be on top more often than Minyoung did.

So there she was. Arguing with her boyfriend on his bed as he stared at her with an unconvinced expression on his face. "So you should just—"

Riki brought a finger to her lips, shushing her. “Babygirl, listen to alpha,” he said, eyes sharp as he stared at her, purposefully deepening his voice, "it's my turn to sleep on top because I let you sleep on me last time." Minyoung's argument flew out of her head at his words as she stared at the younger like he’d grown two heads.

He probably had, and lost his brain too because what the fuck?

While Minyoung was racking her head trying to figure out what was wrong with her boyfriend, Riki took the opportunity to push her by the arms on to his pillow and lay himself between her legs, snuggling his face into her stomach, “alpha’s going to sleep, be a good girl for me and don’t move.”

What's gotten into him?

Minyoung stared down with a confused (and slightly disgusted) expression as Riki hummed contently with his eyes closed, lips brushing her tummy. Realising that he truly meant his words, she threw her head back with a sigh, "Lord help me, my baby boyfriend has gone bloody crazy."

"What was that?" Riki tried to growled with one eye open.

"Nothing alpha, nothing at all," switching up in the blink of an eye, Minyoung smiled sweetly at the boy on top of her, purposely raising the pitch of her voice to feign politeness. Hand coming up to stroke his hair, her heart fluttered at the fond smile he threw her way, "you can go to sleep."

"Good." Minyoung chuckled softly at the satisfaction in his voice and the fact that he had managed to have his way with her somehow. That cunning, adorable boy.

Would baby engenes believe her if she told them just how much of a weirdo their cool idol Ni-ki was? Probably, probably not. Riki wouldn't let her though, something about maintaining an image among his admirers.

Fair enough, Minyoung supposed, but she knew they'd love every side of him just as much as she did.

And she loved him so damn much.

LiNK TO NAVi MASTERLiST

#𝐌𝗶𝗡𝗛𝗬𝗣𝗘𝗡 ◜🪽◞#enhypen #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen x oc #enhypen 8th member #enhypen added member #enhypen iland #enha #enhypen ff #jungwon #yang jungwon #jungwon x oc #riki #niki #riki x oc #niki x oc #nishimura riki

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fauxdette · 2 months

Text

The Procurist pt. 6

Azriel x Elain

Summary: Tensions rise as Azriel confronts Rhysand about Elain. Meanwhile, Elain makes her escape.

Warnings: Descriptions of violence (fistycuffs)

Word count: 1.5k

•••

This was the bath he’d been looking forward to for months and yet he couldn’t scrub his skin fast enough. Being back in Velaris, back in the house where they had almost kissed, back on the land whose gardens she tended to so rigorously, had brought the weight of Elain’s situation crashing down on him.

And Azriel was mad.

He had already dried, changed, and was marching down the hallway of the River House when the wraiths found him.

“Azriel,” they spoke in unison, instinctively falling in line behind him.

“I’m sure we have a lot to catch up on.”

“Reports are already on your desk.”

“Good. And our current status?”

“The fox has found her.”

The relief that swept through him tempered his anger briefly but he didn’t allow himself to react.

“Thank you,” he said instead.

Sensing the conversation was over, the sisters vanished into the nearest shadow, just as Azriel approached Rhys’ office door.

Even muffled by thick walls he recognised each voice from inside. His training allowed him to map their positions in the room, and one voice in particular was currently holding court. Azriel didn’t bother to knock as he opened the door.

“—and you let that Autumn creep go and get her??”

Nesta was standing, one hand in a tight fist at her side, the other gesturing wildly to the office window. Out to the world and wherever her sister might be.

Cassian was cringing in his seat but did not move to interrupt his mate. Upon entering, Nesta threw a glance in his direction.

“Shadowsinger—” Her surprise lasted half a moment. “Finally someone with half a brain. Did you know he,” a finger stabbed toward their High Lord. “Sent Elain on some kind of reconnaissance mission?”

“Oh I’m aware,” his voice was cool as night.

“If you want to yell at me about it, get in line,” Rhys snapped.

“I’m not here to yell, brother.” He didn’t bother hiding his rage; shadows slithered around him like moving armour, hostile and restless. “We have some things to settle. Training ring. Five minutes. Don’t make me wait.” And with that he turned on his heel and left.

•••

“You cut your hair—“

“—what are you doing here?”

Jethro was looking between them, a mix of annoyance and confusion warring on his perfect face.

“So you two know each other?”

“No—“

“—she’s my mate.”

“You have a mate?” His eyes narrowed on her as he tutted beneath his breath. “Have you been lying to me, fair fawn?”

Elain stuttered, searching for the right words. What could she say? Anything would reveal too much, be too personal.

“If you’ve touched her—“ Lucien made to move inside the cart but was stopped by some kind of invisible shield, bouncing off the doorframe as if it were a wall.

Jethro’s signature smirk reappeared.

“Sorry. Invite only.” He turned his back on the Autumn Prince. “Now tell me, what kind of mate pretends they don’t know the other?”

“She’s not well. That’s how she ended up here. With you.”

“Funny,” Jethro didn’t bother to turn as he spoke. “Because if she is the one who isn’t well, why are you only just noticing a hair cut?”

He tapped his finger against his smooth chin.

“Do you know what I think, little fawn?”

She didn’t. And she didn’t want to be there anymore. Not only had the mission gone south, quickly, but now her mate was here and that golden thread between them thrummed in his presence. She hated it, the pull she felt. Like the fae body she was growing accustomed to was betraying her.

“I think you haven’t accepted your mating bond.” Ignoring her silence, Jethro tilted his head. “Now why would that be?”

Was she that obvious? Had all this training and practice been for nothing? They had to leave. Now. And in that haze of fear and shame, Elain did the only thing she could think of; she threw herself towards the open door, and the male who stood outside it.

•••

Rhysand’s appearance clad in fighting leathers was clear enough, they were going to settle things the way they had for centuries - not with words and reason, but with blood, and sweat, and fists.

Azriel had forgone the shirt of his own leathers, and he stretched his wings behind him as he peeled it off his body.

“I’m surprised no one else came.”

“They wanted to. I told them this was between us.”

“They don’t know about Solstice then.”

To his credit, Rhys’ face remained neutral. “I don’t see how it’s anyone else’s business.”

“I don’t see how it was any of your business but here we are,” Azriel retorted.

Rhys lunged, a sweeping punch with good weight behind it. Azriel quickly ducked and landed a satisfying thud on Rhys’ ribs with his own fist. He sprang up as his brother inhaled the force of the blow and hit him again in the cheek, sending him lurching to the side.

“You’re out of shape.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Sure. Busy holding meetings in your office while Elain is… where exactly is she, Rhys?”

“She volunteered, Azriel. Don’t tell me you have so little faith in her.”

Faster than he could react to, Azriel was on him, delivering a punch to the other side of Rhys’ face. Rhys retaliated with his own fists, landing the first blow, but Azriel dodged the second, instead hitting Rhys in the gut. He launched into the air, a beat of his wings giving him leverage before dropping onto Rhys’ hunched back with his elbow. The High Lord fell forward, hands outstretched, as Azriel landed neatly beside him.

“The issue isn’t that you let her go.” They were both panting heavily.

“What is it then? Because my decisions have been for my court. For my people. That includes you, Az.”

"Anything could have happened to her today! Not because of the plan, or her training, or Koschei’s wards; but because you let her go alone. You let our personal shit stop you from including your spy master on a spy mission."

Rhys stumbled, hesitated. His fists were still raised, knuckles bloody, but the fire that glowed in his violet eyes almost instantly dimmed.

"Shit."

"Shit doesn't even begin to cover it. You want to punish me for Solstice? Fine. But you punish Elain for it and I'll keep handing you your ass in this training ring until Nyx is old enough to walk in and drag you out himself."

“That’s enough!” Feyre’s voice carried across the ring.

They had been so focused on the fight, neither had noticed her enter.

“I don’t know what is going on between you two but you’ll have to finish this another day.”

“I don’t think it’s quite that simple, Feyre darling—“

“We’ll make it that simple,” Feyre said firmly. “Elain and Lucien are back.”

•••

Her arms were still wrapped around Lucien's neck as she slowly opened one eye. They had landed on the front lawn of the River House. Lucien gently lowered her to the ground, and she felt his arms slowly release their grip around her waist. The bond between them cried out in response, but if it bothered Lucien as much as it bothered her, he didn't show it. He didn't appear uncomfortable at all. He just looked...

“What were you doing out there?!”

…mad.

“I could ask you the same thing!”

“I was doing what Rhys asked me to.”

“So was I!”

Lucien shook his head and lowered his voice, "If you're trying to prove something to them," he nodded towards the entrance of the mansion where Feyre and Nesta now stood, the former bouncing Nyx on her hip. “Then don’t. You don't have to be like your sisters, Elain. This court already has enough leaders, warriors, and scouts to gather intel. Mother above they have a whole spy master holding meetings with me in the human lands. You don’t need to do this.”

“You’ve been with Azriel?”

The question fell from her mouth before she realised she’d asked it.

Lucien tensed. “Look. I get it,” he sighed, forging ahead. “The need to prove yourself among your siblings—I get it more than anyone. But today was dangerous. Even though you didn’t get the answers you wanted, what you did was still admirable, really. Considering how risky it all was—“

“Who said I didn’t get the answers I wanted?”

Lucien paused. “I—I mean—the girls are clearly not being kept in the cart, and it didn't seem like you had time to ask where he was living, so I just assumed—"

"I didn't ask where he was living."

"I'm not sure I understand," he admitted.

"Mm," she clicked her tongue and shrugged. "I didn't need to ask."

"You didn't need to ask where he's been staying, but you found out anyway?"

"I did."

"But...how?"

And even though she was furious that he, like so many others before him, had underestimated her, for the first time since that wretched bond brought him into her life, Elain gave Lucien a true smile.

“Because of the flowers.”

Read part 7

•••

Tags: @lavenderbloomsinthegarden @greenleaf777 @sakurakittypeach @diabookmama @downingg2001 @teapagesandpetals @nxs98

#elriel #azriel x elain #elain archeron #elriel fanfic #shadowsinger #elain x azriel #Elriel wip

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trensu · 1 year

Text

Have a snippet from that one holy warrior au. thanks to @ent-is-indecisive for helping me come up with a title for this fic. i'll be tagging it as stasis in darkness for easy tracking. this is part of a rough draft so it probably will be modified by the time i finish the damn thing and make it ao3 ready. but my brain's kind of stuck and needs a kickstart to get it going again, so i thought i'd share it and hopefully get motivated again

It happened again.

–

The fourth night:

“Isn't it true the King of Darkness–”

“Lord of Night.”

“Yeah, him. He controls all the monsters in the dark and sets them on innocent people for fun. Don’t see why you’d want to throw your lot in with a god like that.”

“Because he doesn’t. He takes care of nighttime animals. Bats, coyotes, owls…”

“The scary ones, you mean.”

“No! Besides, he takes care of cats, too. Cats aren’t scary. They’re, you know, cute.”

“Hmm. If you say so.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? You got something against cats?”

“Of course not!" The man said, sounding mildly offended. Steve opened his mouth to go on about the Lord of Night's chosen creatures but the man interrupted with, "Well, look at the time! Later, gator.”

The man ran off with a grin not sparing him a second glance. Steve stared after him, baffled.

“What the fuck’s a gator?”

–

The fifth night:

“Don't you know your King, excuse me, Lord of Darkness–”

“Night. Lord of Night.”

“Same thing. He helps criminals evade justice. Pretty sure that one’s true.” The man lounged lazily on a nearby boulder as he asked. Kind of like a cat, Steve noticed with a trace of amusement that was easily smothered by annoyance at the man's…everything else.

“He helps people who travel by night. Most of the time they’re just night workers or people with nowhere to go. The ones that are shunned for being different or the ones too poor to afford safe shelter.”

“Huh. Alright, explain the horse thief thing, then, if he’s so good and noble.”

“...fine, he’s got a soft spot for horse thieves but thievery isn’t that bad of a crime in the grand scheme of things.”

“Ha! Sure,” the man conceded. “But! You can’t deny that this Lord of Night cursed people with terrible nightmares that left them sleepless and suffering for days. To the brink of lunacy, some say.”

The man said it with triumph, as if with this he’d finally break Steve’s faith. Steve shrugged.

“All gods get angry.”

“And that’s okay? You’re fine with him inflicting mind torture on some poor mortal just because he threw a tantrum?”

“First off, he wouldn’t just throw a tantrum," Steve said with exasperation. He might end up throwing a tantrum if this guy persisted. "I don’t think he’s the kind to get angry easily. And second, the people he cursed before always deserved it. Besides, he helps with good dreams, too. It’s not all bad.”

“Uh-huh, I totally believe you," the man said, heavy with mockery.

“Look man, if you’re so against the Lord of Night, why are you still here? Why do you keep coming back and bothering me?”

“...curiosity?”

“Well, be curious quietly. I need to pray.”

“...he probably doesn’t even have prayers.”

“I said shut up, man. I need to concentrate.”

The man leaves without any more fuss.

–

The sixth night:

“You have a lot of faith in a god who lost his own name. Does he even have any holy texts left?”

“Dustin could only find one, but that was enough.”

“Really? Other gods have entire libraries of stories and whole tomes of holy words. They have temples and monasteries all across the land of mortals.” The man motioned derisively at the crumbling statue. "This thing here is barely a shrine!"

“Hey, I'm working on that, alright? It's going to look great when I'm done with it," Steve protested. "And so what if he doesn't have more? Robin says quantity’s got nothing to do with quality.”

“Yeah, but the other gods are remembered for a reason. That counts for something,” the man's voice lost some of that smug edge. He fiddled with the hem of his fraying shirt as he spoke.

Steve refused to rise to the bait. He responded calmly, but firmly.

“I don’t need libraries to know I want to carry his symbol. From what Robin and Dustin found, he represents all the things my friends taught me were important.” Steve pauses. "I’m not a good reader anyway so less books are better for me.”

"Oh, so that's why you picked him! Very convenient," The man sounded very amused. Steve ignored him until he heard the man wander away for the night. He sighed in relief.

With a surge of restless energy leftover from being very good and calm about that nuisance of a man, Steve approached the statue elevated on its crumbling plinth. He reached up towards its open hand held at its side, barely within reach, and brushed his fingers along the worn knuckles.

"That guy's wrong about you, I know he is,” Steve whispered, fervently. “You deserve a temple. A hundred of them, all for your own."

Steve thought, for a moment, he heard a sharp intake of breath, but when he looked there was no one but him around.

“I’ll make sure you get a great temple."

He waited, strained his ears for even a single word from his god. He tried not to be disappointed when he heard nothing. Again.

–

ps: i do not do those reader tag list things. if you’d like to keep up with my stuff, follow my writing tag: trensu tells stories

#trensu tells stories #stasis in darkness #stranger things #steddie #thanks again to ent for helping find a title for this #and for listening to my directionless ramblings about it

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mother-above · 7 months

Text

The Golden Warrior | Chapter 8

Azriel x Reader

Summary: To you, love was a poison that slowly killed. It was something that could make the strongest of warriors and leaders weak and vulnerable. You had successfully evaded romance and relationships for a century until the day you realized it had been plaguing you from within.

Chapters: 8/?

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: violence, death, swearing

*masterlist*

You kissed Azriel.

You kissed Azriel. Fucking. Shadowsinger.

And you have zero regrets.

The plan was to do anything to forget and prevent the bond from snapping with Tarquin. You hated making split decisions, but this worked perfectly in your favor. All thoughts of Tarquin and your nights together were smashed down into the depths of your memories. It’s been a day since the kiss, and you found yourself thinking about Azriel and how surprisingly soft his lips were for a hardened warrior.

You hadn’t seen him since that night, but you can imagine he was somewhere in the Night Court camps brooding in some dark tent. When you gave him the healer’s order not to fight in battle or fly until he was completely healed, he barely gave you resistance. Now that he’s had time to process the information, you were sure he was giving his High Lord a tough time about this. It must be torture knowing his friends and family were going into battle without him.

Thinking about Azriel’s well-being wholly consumed your mind because you ended up colliding with a tall figure. The apologetic smile slowly disappeared from your lips when you realized you had bumped into a grinning High Lord of Summer.

“What thoughts are occupying your brain, my lady,” said Tarquin teasingly. “It’s unlike you not to watch where you’re going.”

Even if he was poking fun at you, he still swept down to take your hand and kissed it in formal Dawn Court fashion. Your eyes almost popped out of your head as you watched his lips press against your skin.

“Tarquin! I- uh was just thinking about some preparations I must do for the battle,” you stammered. “What are you doing here?”

Tarquin gave you a lopsided grin. “I was on my way to speak to Thesan; would you like to accompany me?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m afraid I was on my way to check on the distribution of the anti-faebane compound. I’ll catch up with you later!”

Without waiting for him to respond, you spun around and sped walked toward the other side of camp. You were actually on your way to speak to your cousin, the warriors Wyla and Bersk were tasked to oversee the distribution of the compound to the camps, but Tarquin didn’t need to know that. You looked down at the hand he kissed and squeezed your eyes shut in frustration. Tarquin was a good friend, why did the mate bond have to come and ruin everything?

***

The hot sun beat down as you took a sip of water, you were looking off onto the blue ocean while ignoring the humans' gazes boring holes into your wings. You and other fae who could winnow were winnowing humans from the villages beyond the Wall all day long. Some humans went willingly, and some were violent and had to be subdued with magic. You frowned as you watched a family in the corner looking a little green, their eldest son still throwing up. They threw an iron spear at you, and you flicked it off like it was nothing. It wasn’t long until they were feeling too sick to pathetically attempt to end your life.

Thankfully, Tarquin was too busy dealing with the refugees in his court so there was little chance of running into him. Looking around, you see the familiar form of Morrigan who was leaning against the stone ledge and admiring the view. The last time you saw her, she was a blubbering mess who kept thanking you for saving Cassian’s life. You stood next to her and Morrigan turned to smile, she reached over and gave you a quick hug.

“My favorite healer!” she said enthusiastically. “Isn’t it beautiful here? I wish the world was at peace so I could lounge on the beach.”

You laughed as you both wistfully looked at the picturesque scene before you. There were beaches all over Prythian, but nothing could beat Summer.

Morrigan examined the soft glow that emitted from you. She felt indebted to the Golden Warrior that stood next to her, without you, her family's world would have fallen apart. Mor also saw the work you’d done to Azriel’s wings, the thought of the Shadowsinger made her smile fade.

“You should know that Illyrian patient of yours is being incredibly stubborn,” said Mor. “He keeps bothering Rhysand and Madja to give him a pass to fight tomorrow.”

Shaking your head, you gave Mor a timid smile. “I was afraid that was going to happen. I had a feeling that even if I told Azriel he can’t fight, he’d try to negotiate.”

“We can all beg him not to fight but nothing is going to stop him from doing what he wants. It has come to the point where Rhysand started threatening Az that he would chain him onto a tree.”

Laughter bubbled from your lips at the image. “Do you think he’ll disobey Rhysand? Azriel doesn’t seem like the type to disobey his High Lord.”

“I don’t know,” shrugged Mor. “I tried talking to him… sometimes he listens to me so I’m hoping he will.”

“I didn’t think he’d be this stubborn!” you exclaimed. You knew how bad his wings were, if he tried to fly too early, one wrong move could permanently damage the nerves in his wings.

“You’d be surprised,” snorted Mor.

The sound of distinct whispers makes you straighten up and whip your head around. Your sudden movement caused Morrigan to finally notice the shadowsinger.

The spymaster approached with a smirk on his lips. “If you’re going to talk about me behind my back, at least try to do it discreetly.”

Azriel found it bizarre to see the two of you standing together and laughing. The female he had loved for five hundred years and the mate he knew would be easy to love. It was his two worlds colliding and his chest constricted with emotion. Two beautiful females who didn’t seem to want him. Azriel was sure the bond would snap the moment your lips touched but it didn’t, his little dove was still so scared and resistant.

“Hi Azriel,” you said softly. Feeling a little shy from the kiss, you turned around and kept your eyes on the crashing waves.

He stood next to you and leaned against the stone. “It’s frustrating that I can never spy on you again. My shadows gave me away, right?”

You nodded. “Yes, it was your shadows and good! I told you there would be repercussions if you tried to do it again. You can always come talk to me, I thought we established that already.”

“I didn’t forget, my lady, it’s just fun to tease you. Your forehead scrunches up and you start threatening people,” said Azriel as he peered at your furrowed brows.

“Then don’t say or do things to make me threaten you in the first place!” You scowled while you smoothed your skin upwards with your fingers.

Morrigan watched Azriel and you banter, and her eyes lit up as she studied the two of you. She felt like she was intruding so she excused herself to get back to winnowing the humans from the villages.

“How are you feeling?” asked Azriel. “You ready for tomorrow?”

For the first time since the kiss, you looked deeply into his hazel eyes. “I’m fucking terrified. I was told to stop winnowing the humans because the High Lords wanted me to be well-rested for the battle,” you paused and took a breath. “Thesan wants me to unleash every drop of magic I can to poison Hybern. I still don’t know if I can do it at that magnitude.

Azriel took in your words and leaned closer. “Do you want to know one of the first thoughts I had when I met you? I thought you were incredible and the more I learned about you, the more impressed I was. For 49 years, you held your entire court together without the support of a High Lord. That’s pretty fucking powerful.”

You sighed, “I don’t know, Azriel. I’m scared I won’t be strong enough. What I have to do tomorrow may decide which side the scale will tip.”

Azriel watched your furrowed brow slowly return. He wished you didn’t have to take on this much responsibility and wished he could be fighting by your side. His shadows must have been thinking the same thing because they drifted to you. The wisps danced around your wings or intertwined themselves in your hair.

“You are one of the best warriors I have ever seen. I have a feeling that you’re going to be amazing tomorrow, I know it.”

You smiled at his confidence in you. It was nice to hear it after days of self-deprecating thoughts about your power. “Speaking about warriors—are you going to be stubborn and fight tomorrow?”

Azriel’s jaw set as he shook his head. “I’m furious that I won’t be there to help my brothers, Feyre, Amren, Mor, and… you. Morrigan begged me not to fight and frankly, I’m scared how badly you’ll both kick my ass if I do.”

You laughed and Azriel smiled. He wanted to listen to your laughter forever.

Nudging his arm, you tell him not to worry even though you know tomorrow is going to be a bloodbath. Comfortable silence fell between you, the only thing you could hear was the rhythmic crashing of water. The salty air smelled heavenly against the scent of cedarwood, the scent reminding you of that night.

“Are we going to talk about the kiss?” you blurted.

He felt his heartbeat quicken. “You said it was to distract from your potential mate… did it work?”

Azriel refrained from asking more questions about who the male was. He was afraid that if he knew the answer, he might do something he would regret.

“I think so… but I kind of feel bad about it. I hope it wasn't confusing for you. I’ve been considering you a friend, and I don’t want the kiss to make it awkward for the both of us.”

Friend.

His heart sunk at the word. Azriel peered down at your hopeful gaze. You seemed genuine about wanting to keep the friendship and Azriel would never want to lose that. He would rather be your friend forever and keep you in his life than never having you at all. He still had hope that one day you’d grow to love him but for now, this was enough.

“Don’t feel bad. I’ll always be happy to help you out with whatever you need,” said Azriel.

You beamed up at him. “Likewise.”

The two of you had a rocky start but that’s how you knew this friendship was going to be a great one. He earned your trust, and you earned his.

***

The cold crisp air was welcoming as you glid through the sky. Today was the big day. Potentially your last day. Instead of getting that extra hour of sleep, you wanted to make sure you watched today’s sunrise. It was beautiful, it was like the Mother knew that for hundreds of thousands, it would be their last, so she blessed the dawn sky. Pastel pink, blue, and orange were all you could see. You closed your eyes and basked as you savored the soft warmth of the sun.

One last look at the sky and then you dove down to go meet Thesan and Callon for breakfast. Meals with your cousin and his lover were usually joyful and filled with laughter but today, everyone was trying not to cry. Thesan and Callon were the ones you trusted most in the world. They were your family and the thought of either of them dying today was unimaginable. If something were to happen, you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself. You lost your parents, and you couldn’t lose someone again, Thesan and Callon were all you had.

You looked at Callon who held Thesan’s hand so tightly, his knuckles were white. Blinking back tears, you looked down and stirred your anti-faebane-laced coffee for the hundredth time. Callon would die to protect his High Lord, he would die to protect you. His loyalty to your family and the Court ran deep but even if he wasn’t, Callon loved you both so dearly. You were beginning to think all forms of love weren’t worth it. This hurt too much.

“My cousin, my second-in-command,” said Thesan gently. “If something happens to me in battle- “

You try to cut him off, but he gives you a look that silences you.

“You are the only living immediate relative of mine and the most powerful faerie in Dawn Court after me. Thanks to Rhysand and his knack for breaking the rules, if I die, you will be High Lady and I couldn’t be happier that the role will be passed to you.”

Feeling like a child again, your lips trembled. “That’s not going to happen because you’ll survive this. All of us will.”

Thesan glowed brighter, his familial love for you was overwhelming. He couldn’t stand the idea of leaving you alone again or the fact that you may leave him. “I don’t plan on dying today. I just want you to be prepared, that’s all.”

Tears finally escape and you don’t stop to wipe them. You nodded and looked at Thesan, “My power… I don’t know if I can do that much damage. I want to save as many Prythian lives as possible, but I don’t know if I can do this,” you said truthfully.

“When the shields are down and it’s time to unleash your poison, I want you to think about everything you care about. Think about me, Callon, and your friends. Think of all the humans and faeries you will protect. Think about the Dawn Court and all its beauty. That’s what you’re protecting and trust me, you’ll find that power.” His voice was deep and soothing, and every word hit you in your chest. Maybe you can do this. If High Lord Thesan believed in you, there should be no reason to doubt.

The battleground was a sight to see, the five courts and their legions were marching or winnowing in. Hybern was in the distance, their large numbers slowly gathering but you paid them no attention.

The golden armor felt cool against your skin, the helmet snug on your head, and the flat of your sheathed sword tapping your thigh as you walked amongst the Peregryn Battalion. Callon and Thesan had just finished their speeches to the soldiers, and they wanted to reserve the last one for the Golden Warrior. In the almost 50 years of Thesan’s absence from the throne, you were their leader, their Lady. They respected you and were honored to wear the same armor as you did.

They stood in attention as you made your way to the front, you gazed at the rows of soldiers with an aura of confidence and viciousness. The weeping lady from breakfast was long gone and was replaced with the fierce protector.

“May you all fly high and strike swiftly. May our blades and strength slay our enemies. May the Mother above protect us.” Your voice reverberated through the air. Everyone within a mile radius had their skin riddled with goosebumps as they felt your power radiate from you. “Hybern wants to take away the balance of our country and bring chaos. Let’s show them it’s not so easy to do so. Some of us may fall today, some of us may not. Fight hard and watch each other’s back, I will see you all on the other side.”

Last-minute preparations were being made while the rest of the court's armies were arriving. Callon handed you a scroll and told you to deliver it to the Illyrian General, your fae eyes tell you that winnowing would be faster. Honing on the image of Cassian, you winnowed next to him, but he didn’t immediately look at you, he was looking at the sight of Azriel handing the Truth Teller to Elain. You followed his eyes and realized that everyone was staring at Azriel and Elain.

Raising a brow, you tapped the scroll against Cassian’s chest to get his attention. “Callon wanted you to have this, I think it’s about flight formations.”

Shaking his head, he apologized and took the scroll from you.

“Why is everyone staring at them?” you asked peering at the Archeron sister you have yet to meet. She was looking at Azriel with big doe eyes and annoyance momentarily flared in your chest.

Cassian looked down at you and then back at Azriel. “Um—Azriel never lets anyone touch the Truth Teller. It’s just a strange sight, maybe he feels like his dagger would help her feel safer.”

You examined the doe-eyed fae, she looked like she had never held anything that sharp in her life.

It was then that Azriel’s shadows noticed your presence, they darted towards you, and you laughed when you heard their squeals of excitement. They floated around and whispered; they were admiring the golden armor that covered you. Azriel looked up and smiled when he saw you standing next to Cassian. He immediately limped his way to you, leaving the Archeron sister to curiously look at the newcomer with the white and gold wings.

You asked Cassian how his healing was, and Azriel rolled his eyes when Cassian pulled up his leathers showing you his toned abdomen with a giant scar running down the middle. You cast a hand over and smiled as you sensed that all his healing was done.

“You’re all good, but the scar might stay, it was too deep of a wound and--.”

“Don’t worry about it,” interrupted Cassian. “It’ll be a good reminder to follow orders. You know, I will never be able to thank you enough for saving my life. I wouldn’t be here without you, consider me indebted to you.”

You smiled at the General. “Make sure you survive; I’d like to take you up on that offer one day.”

Rhysand called Cassian over which left you and Azriel alone. You noticed he was still wearing Illyrian leathers and his siphons but no helmet in sight. He watched you notice the absence of his protective gear and he rolled his eyes at your approving nods.

“Have you come here to gloat and show off your armor?” joked Azriel.

“Ha. I’m not that cruel, Azriel. I can’t imagine how hard it is to stand back and do nothing,” you said sincerely. “I think it’ll make everyone feel better knowing you’re safe so in a way, you’re still helping.”

You looked at Elain who was holding Azriel’s dagger delicately, wary of the sharp parts.

“Cassian told me you have a name for that dagger, what was it again? Truth-something?”

“It’s Truth-Teller,” replied Azriel.

Blinking up at him, a small mischievous smile formed on your lips. “That’s dramatic. Do people get intimidated by that?” He looked so dumbfounded, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his expression.

“Actually,” he said with feigned defensiveness. “They do get intimidated by the dagger and my reputation. I guess you wouldn’t know about it because you’ve been living under a rock and can poison anyone and anything.”

Your head tipped back, and a hearty laugh comes out making Azriel grin. The entire morning had been filled with tears and stoicism, it felt good to laugh, it almost made you forget the battle was minutes away.

Azriel pointed to the ornate sword attached to your waist. “You can’t tell me something like that doesn’t have a name!”

You unsheathed the sword and brought it between you and Azriel. “You got me there,” you said as you tapped the three pearls near the hilt. “Her name is Deception, it used to be my father’s. He told me he called her Deception because she seems delicate and pretty but…when in the right hands, she’s also a killer and destroyer of armies.”

Azriel ran a scarred finger across the gold engravings on the blade. It was clean now but, in a few hours, it would be stained red.

“Just like her owner,” he said with a smirk.

A snort comes out and you quickly sheath the sword to distract from the reddening of your ears.

“I have to get back to the Peregryns, make sure we’re ready for the skies,” you said grimly.

Azriel swallowed a lump in his throat, his eyes scanning and committing every inch of your face to memory. He refused to believe this might be the last time he would see you. He wished you had more time, maybe...just maybe you might fall in love with him. Pushing away his useless dreams, Azriel looked at his beautiful mate.

“Please be careful,” said Azriel, his voice wavering slightly.

You were surprised by the emotion packed in his words; you swear his eyes were glistening. “I’ll be okay,” you reassured. “Just know that if I see you on the battlefield, I’ll fly down and kick your ass.”

Azriel’s lips twitched into a smile and then you winnowed, leaving a faint scent of lilacs.

Not too far away were the figures of Cassian, Rhysand, and Feyre huddled by a supply caravan pretending to be in a conversation. Feyre had learned you were Azriel’s mate a couple of days after the males found out. Cassian was giddy at all hours of the day, Rhysand kept pestering Azriel, and whenever Feyre saw the shadowsinger, he would be engulfed in shadows with his eyes staring off into the distance. It didn’t take long before Feyre could coax the answers out of her mate.

Because Azriel was Azriel, they had no solid idea how your relationship was progressing. So when they heard your banter, they all bit back smiles, they’ve never heard him talk this much. It gave them even more reasons to fight for their future, and their family's happiness.

***

The sheer size of Hybern’s army was staggering. There was no point trying to skew your perception to make you feel better. It was just a fact that Hybern had the larger army, but it didn’t mean Prythian didn’t have a few tricks up her sleeves.

The High Lords had ordered you to go to the front lines for the magic portion of the battle. Thesan didn’t like the idea of you standing too close to the Bone Carver, so he wanted you in the air. Your cousin was scared for you, but you were more concerned about how much power you could unleash.

You hovered close to the Bone Carver, curiosity making you look at the creature as he stared back at you with black eyes. Legends say he appeared differently to everyone and what you saw was a female. You weren’t sure if she was fae, she seemed otherworldly, beautiful, and ancient. She looked like death, not in the sense she looked ill and weak, she was death personified. You found that the longer you looked at her, the sense of dread rose like bile in your throat.

The Bone Carver could feel the sharp darkness from you and cocked its head. “Peculiar,” murmured the Bone Carver.

Before you could ask what he meant, something next to you materialized, with a hand on the hilt of your sword, you turned to see an even more terrifying creature.

Bryaxis.

You’ve heard scary stories about him in your youth, it was a creature that parents used to make their children behave. You remember only feeling safe from the creature once you learned it had been imprisoned in Night Court for centuries. Its dark shadowy figure loomed over you despite hovering a couple of feet from the ground. You heard shocked murmurs coming from both sides, no one was expecting this.

Steeling yourself, you looked at Bryaxis and dipped your head, even if you wanted to run for the hills. While glamoured, Bryaxis had the time to examine you, it felt that overwhelming power the Bone Carver talked about. There was something else, there was something familiar about you, but it couldn’t place it. You seemed too young to have met it before it was imprisoned.

You guess there was more excitement because next to the Bone Carver, appeared the Weaver. She was young and pretty unlike the stories you’ve heard of an old hag, meaning she must have feasted recently. She paid no attention to you; she was more occupied with the seemingly stunned Bone Carver.

“Golden warrior,” hissed Bryaxis.

The whisper of Bryaxis felt like insects crawling up your neck. You narrowed your eyes and looked at its terrifying face. You tried not to stare at its huge claws as it blinked and studied your figure.

“Yes?” You thanked the mother your voice didn’t tremble.

“If you are what I think you are, I have met you before,” hissed the creature. You weren’t even sure if its mouth was moving, you think it responded to you like a daemati.

“That’s impossible, I would have remembered.”

“No!” growled Bryaxis. “Not you, your predecessor.”

Your eyes widened at his admission. What did he mean? Has he met your parents? You asked but it ignored your questions. It started to whisper something nonsensical about war and killing as it looked toward the terrified Hybern soldiers.

Atop a grassy knoll, Azriel gawked as he watched you interact with the immortal creatures. Everyone around him sucked in a breath when he saw you speaking to Bryaxis. Rhysand could tell Azriel was itching to intervene, drag you away from danger so Rhys stood next to his brother.

What the hell is she doing? thought Azriel. Is she not scared?

He could tell both armies were watching you, some Prythians knew who you were but this set of Hybern soldiers were bewildered. Their soldiers probably couldn’t tell what was so special about this winged female, their shields preventing them from feeling your power. They wondered about your place amongst these dark immortal creatures. The soldiers in the front began to feel uneasy about the seemingly normal faerie.

The earth started to shake as the High Lords and Hybern started using their magic to take down the shields. Giving up on getting answers from Bryaxis, you took this as your cue to get ready. You flew high enough to the point where you could see most of Hybern’s army. Your wings flapped steadily as you looked forward and emptied your mind, ridding any feelings of uncertainty.

With your palms facing Hybern, you think of all the faeries you were protecting behind you. Gold and bronze light slowly leached from your skin and turned to wisps, each thought of your family, friends, and court made you glow brighter. The swirling wisps extended from your body and the enemy gulped at your display of power. Thesan, who was concentrating on using his magic to take down the shields grinned maniacally as he saw what his cousin was capable of.

Breathing deeply and slowly, you extended your arms out to the sides as more power gathered in your core. You think of the innocent children; faeries and humans who deserved a peaceful life ahead of them. The power that surged in and around you felt insane, you don’t think you’ve conjured this much energy in your entire life. You felt vicious and you were counting down the seconds you could get your hands on the Hybern bastards.

The moment you felt Hybern’s shield fall, you roared as power erupted from your body. The light you emitted was strong enough to blind a faerie if they didn’t close their eyes fast enough. Gold and bronze flung out as you slashed your arm in the air and then the screaming started. Your magic was faster than the dark creatures below you, so Hybern tasted your death first. Soldiers gurgled on their own blood as they bled from every orifice, some screamed in agony as their insides liquified, and others just dropped dead.

There was so much energy thrumming inside you and this time, something felt different, like you had unlocked a new ability. Out of instinct, you raised a hand, and a pulse of gold wisps hurtled towards the target. Moments before the blast hit Hybern, the wisps turned into a thick bronze mist that hung heavily in the air. You could barely see through the fog but when it cleared, a gasp escaped your lips. Piles of bodies lay unmoving on the ground; the mist had killed everything in its path forcing Hybern’s armies to split into two.

Hundreds of bodies turned into thousands, and the Court’s armies roared their war cries. Now that Bryaxis, Bone Carver and the Weaver had crossed enemy lines, the sounds of screams became louder. Prythian soldiers marched forward and began to fight. You stayed in the air sending blasts of your poison hoping it would reach and weaken those in the back. Once you felt your magic sputter, you fell back and flew to the Peregryn and Illyrian legions.

The Peregryn commander grasped your arm and brought you close. “Holy shit, y/n! I knew you could do it!” grinned Callon.

You panted and rested your head on Callon's shoulder for a moment. “I didn’t know I could do that!”

“I hope you have more fight in you, my lady. We start aerial attacks in 60 seconds.”

The wicked smile on your face was enough of an answer for Callon. You unsheathed Deception and poised your arm ready for anything.

The booming orders of Callon and Cassian first sent the archers and then the rest of the legions charging toward the Attors who were making their way toward you. Everything felt like a blur as the winged squadrons plummeted to the earth and took the fight to the ground. Magical shields were useless against ash arrows, forcing everyone to switch to physical shields. You were immediately splattered with blood, but you didn’t care as long as it wasn’t yours.

You moved in a deadly dance with anything that came close to you whether it was a soldier, Attor, or hound. It was rhythmic and sometimes you didn’t even have to think, it was all instinct. You spotted a squad of Peregryn warriors having trouble with Attors about a hundred feet into the air. With a twitch of your wings, you shot up to the sky and showed no mercy to the clawed creatures.

You were catching your breath and preparing to dive down into the fray when you swear you heard someone calling your name. Brows furrowed, you looked toward the Prythian side. You heard it again, it sounded desperate and guttural, and your wings and body felt compelled to follow the direction of the voice. A second later, you see Cassian with his flaring siphons shoot up near you and start flying as fast as he can toward Rhysand.

“What is he doing?” you murmured.

Then, something in the air shifted, something powerful and ominous from over the hill on the Hybern side. You looked back at Cassian’s frantic figure getting smaller in the distance.

Something was wrong and you didn’t like it.

“FALLBACK!” you roared. “FALLBACK!”

The Peregryns and Illyrians who heard immediately withdrew and followed you in the skies. You felt searing heat behind and just before a white light reached you, you thrusted your magic outwards creating a bubble of protection around the Peregryns and Illyrians closest to you. Those with siphons locked their magic into your shield at the same time. The siphon shields and your magic held on just long enough to hurtle you and those under your protection backward into the sky. Once your wings stabilized, you cried out in horror as you saw the ashes of thousands of Illyrians and Peregryns drift to the ground.

You wildly looked around for Callon, your eyes wide with fear as you scanned the disoriented Peregryns and Illyrians. It was Callon who found you, his hands reaching for your shoulders needing to see for himself you hadn’t been killed.

“Find Thesan,” ordered Callon, his voice desperate. “Dawn needs a future, and you are its future. Find Thesan and stick with him… I’ll feel better knowing you’re together.”

Your eyes widened in shock. Callon has never, ever spoken to you in that tone before. He respected your rank and title in the court and Dawn’s royal family. This was the voice of a commander who knew that whatever that blast was, was something you could not beat.

“But what about- “

“We’ll be okay, we’ll integrate with the Illyrians, and Wyla and Bersk can help me manage what's left of our legion,” said Callon. He paused; his eyes begging you to listen to him. “Please.”

With a nod goodbye, you turned around and sent out two sharp whistles. A second later, you heard Thesan’s response toward your left. You winnowed next to him, and he breathed out a sigh of relief. In a similar fashion to Callon, he cradled your face and looked you over for injuries.

“I thought you were gone. The blast-- I thought I lost you,” said Thesan. He was panting from magical exhaustion and his eyes were glistening at the thought of your death.

Your lip trembled before you forced a smile onto your face. “I would be if you didn’t call my name.”

Thesan shook his head. “That wasn’t me… I mean I heard someone scream your name, but I was too busy holding the shields over the foot soldiers.”

“Then who was it?”

Thesan’s eyes flickered toward the shadow that discreetly held onto the shoulder of your armor. It was expertly placed, somewhere you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t looking for it.

“I don’t know,” replied Thesan. “It doesn’t matter now, what’s important is you’re here.”

Thesan filled you in on what was happening, he explained that Spring, Autumn, and human armies had joined in. Hybern was using the Cauldron to target the death gods which was one of the reasons why Thesan wanted you near him. It was strange to be on this side of the battle, the part where the High Lords and their second in command stayed back to delegate and fight only when needed.

Everywhere you looked was filled with chaos and death. Prythian armies were slowly getting overwhelmed and just when things couldn’t get worse, Rhysand sent out a magical warning that Hybern ships were approaching your side. Flying over to where Rhysand and his court were standing on the cliffside, you gathered your power and sent out bursts of poison toward their armada. You could hear the screams of agony and bodies dropping on the decks, but it wasn’t enough. Your power couldn’t reach that far out, and more ships were coming your way. Your magic reserves were always quick to restore but this was a battle, you were never going to have enough. Tapping into everything, you managed to conjure the bronze mist, but it was only enough to cover one ship.

You staggered forward, panting from exertion. Cassian placed a hand on your elbow and pulled you down to sit. “Rest,” he insisted. “You’re going to do more bad than good if you completely deplete yourself.”

You looked at him and saw the same guilt that you felt. You had both survived the blast and there was nothing you could do to change that.

Your gasps for breath were slowly turning into hyperventilating sobs. Until now, the shadow on your shoulder had stayed quiet to avoid detection. It chittered reassuring words but you were too occupied to notice.

“If I don’t do something we’re all going to die sooner or later,” you said bluntly.

Rhysand, Feyre, Cassian, and Nesta looked at each other solemnly, they knew you were right. Rhys almost called for Azriel to come back and be here with you, but he couldn’t, he needed Azriel to be within the northern flanks.

Concentrating on refilling your energy, you tried to block out the voices of Night Court and stared at the daunting sea. You had managed to take down fifteen ships, all of them crashing together now that there was no one to steer them. Your poison slowed Hybern but in thirty minutes, you were sure the rest would make their way to shore.

You were feeling completely hopeless until the sounds of horns announced the arrival of thousands of white-feathered Seraphim and countless warships from different nations. Their presence had tipped the scale, and it gave Prythian a fighting chance. With a renewed sense of energy and spirit, you and Thesan fought hard as the battle reached you.

It was interesting to fight amongst white-feathered fae, the Peregryns grinning whenever a Seraphim jumped in to help them. You fought wherever the battle would take you, sometimes next to Thesan or several feet above.

The smell of blood and screams of mercy overtook your senses and it began to get overwhelming again, the chaos never ending. You knew you were going to see Peregryns die, you thought you were prepared but you weren’t. Screaming in horror, you watched Wyla’s limp bloodied body dive toward the earth. She was one of the best warriors you had ever seen and now she was gone.

You don’t think you’ve stopped moving, one hand holding your sword and the other hand shooting magic. You would see a Prythian soldier faltering and either you or Thesan would send your magic to heal whatever it could.

Heal, stab, poison, slash, and heal again. It was a never-ending cycle, and you were beginning to think Hybern may be winning again. As long as Hybern had the Cauldron, you were afraid Prythian would fall. You overheard Feyre and Amren talking about going to the Caudron and you prayed to the Mother they had a plan.

You had just killed an Attor, its head was still in your hand as you watched its body plummet to the ground. A cry came out of your lips when you saw all High Lords had transformed into their monstrous beast forms. You saw an obsidian-winged beast, a golden-winged creature with razor-sharp talons but what made you stagger in the air was Thesan in his gold and white phoenix form. The beast form was the High Lords’ last case scenario, and this only meant one thing.

Prythian was losing.

Even if you were exhausted and bloody, you kept going. You refused to die today. You had dived into the Attor legion, killing swiftly and quickly. A glimmer of blue cobalt shined in the corner of your eye and when you turned to look, a gasp escaped your lips. Fighting alongside the obsidian beast and the white and gold phoenix was Azriel.

What the hel is he doing? Anger boiled within you at the sight of the blue-siphoned Illyrian. He’s not healed yet, he’s going to get hurt.

You noticed he was getting surrounded by Hybern creatures and before you could dive down, you felt claws grab onto your wings. Your eyes went wide as you tried to turn but it was too late, claws had dug into your back and left wing as if it were trying to rip your wing off. A blood-curdling scream erupted, and you flailed trying to get the creature with your sword. An Attor popped up in front of you and just as you tried to hit it with poison, something pierced into your stomach. Before it could fully drive in its dagger, something bright, scorching, and fiery flew close to you.

Then you were falling.

You couldn’t move, you had no control over the only thing that could stop you from falling to your death. Your hands reached out and clawed the air as if there was an invisible rope you could latch onto. Terrified panic was the only thing you felt, like many times before, you were alone and left to your own devices. No one was going to catch you.

All you could see was the blur of your arms and blood-stained wings as you hurtled to the ground.

It won’t be too long now, you thought. The impact will kill me.

There was nothing you could do so you closed your eyes.

a/n: Hello! Don't forget to comment and reblog, I love love love reading your thoughts and reactions! Thank you for reading :)

#azriel x reader #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel x female!reader #azriel acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel angst #azriel shadowsinger #a court of wings and ruin #azriel #acomaf #azriel fan fic

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kill-the-hand-of-shakespeare · 8 months

Text

“Unknown”

———————

The rope finally snapped.

Aziraphale watched as Crowley felt his heart fall out of his chest and straight down to hell. He bared his teeth, and snapped his head towards the Angel, balling his hands into fists as he stood.

“What do you want, Aziraphale?! Spit it out! If you’ve come here to tell me I made a mistake, you don’t get to decide that for me!” He yelled, pointing a finger at Aziraphale, who threw up his hands in defence. No, no he’d lost him. He could see the hurt and anger in every aspect of Crowley’s being.

The Angel shook his head violently, and stood up, watching as Crowley took a step backward- running away. He was running away again and Aziraphale didn’t know if he could stop him this time.

“No! Wait - Crowley, please that is the farthest thing from what I’m trying to say! I- oh good Lord!” Aziraphale tried, watching the demon shake his head.

“No. No, Aziraphale. You don’t get to do this. Not again! Do you know what you did to me?! I have been ruined for months over you! I have been wracking my brain trying to figure out how to forget you! How the hell to get all of this-” Crowley gestured at him, the book shop and himself, “Out of my head and away from me- but I can’t, Aziraphale. You are ingrained in me and I fucking hate it! I can’t escape you!” He seethed, and the silence that followed was eerily quiet.

Aziraphale felt this throat tighten. Felt that fear creep back up. Forget him? Crowley wanted to get rid of him? He said he hated how tied together they were...

Aziraphale tasted the salt on his tongue as he opened his mouth to pull in a shaky breath before he realized he was crying. He watched Crowley’s heated gaze cool ever so slightly before he turned his face away to wipe the tears.

He looked out the window. It had started to rain in London, as it always did. But somehow he felt that Crowley had something to do with the quiet thunder that rolled in with the blanket of grey clouds that now hid the sun from view.

The clock ticked behind Crowley. They had been here before, yelling at each other in this very spot. Aziraphale stifled the sob that rose from his chest, but it came anyway. He took a shaky breath and nodded.

“I did.” The Angel whispered weakly, “I did see what I caused. I heard you- cursing God. Screaming at Her. I saw you in the bars and here- I saw how I hurt you, how I caused you so much pain-“ he shook his head, voice becoming strained.

He never looked for long. He didn’t want to intrude on Crowley’s privacy, but he wanted to see him when the old recordings weren’t enough. When he’d heard Crowley curse God, Aziraphale knew it was really him Crowley was so angry with. He heard the demon sigh and shift, trying to calm himself down, but thunder rolled heavy outside, and shook the window panes of the bookshop.

“I don’t forgive you, Crowley.” Aziraphale said again, turning to face him again, wiping the tears, even when they kept falling, “Because there was nothing ever to forgive.” He whispered, and watched the furrow in Crowley’s brow smooth from anger to guilt, and he had to look away again.

How dare he make Crowley feel so many negative emotions. How dare he hurt him, and then beg for mercy. He hiccuped a soft sob and looked away again, hands wiping away the tears sloppily, but they only fell faster.

“You have every right to want to forget me- you may be right. Maybe... Maybe it would be best, even. I’ve hurt you, Crowley. I know that. And I can’t explain how sorry I am. How much I missed you.”

Aziraphale didn’t try to stifle the sobs, he spoke through them, “How much I just wanted... You. Wanted to be around you, to talk with you. I sat and thought up every scenario until there were none left.” He cried, wiping the tears from his stupid beard that he’d grown to look more authoritative. Supreme ArchAngel his buttocks.

“But that- that feeling. The emptiness? The ache in my chest and stomach... Feeling like I couldn’t take a breath correctly, it never went away...” he weeped, hugging himself, he shook his head.

This was wrong. He was wrong. He was just hurting Crowley more. That’s all he ever did- was hurt him.

“I just wanted you to do it again- to kiss me again. To sit around with me, or call me on the phone- I just wanted us again and I was stupid for thinking I could keep you safe by giving that up!” Aziraphale said as he turned to look at Crowley, and saw the same hot tears now on the demons face.

And he looked... Devastated. It made Aziraphale hug himself tighter, a gasping breath pulled into his lungs. “I’m so sorry, Crowley. I never, never wanted to hurt you. Especially you, out of anyone. Not my only friend, and the person I...” he paused. The clock ticked in the silence - neither one of them were really breathing.

“The person I love most.” He said quietly, and watched Crowley’s face twist in pain.

———————

I left you on a cliffhanger and for that, I apologize, but I had to say goodbye to a family member at the beginning of January, and had a hard time focusing on anything, really. But I think I’m back, and have finished up the last few chapters, and after GOAD smut war, ending on the 14th (I think?) I’ll post this on Ao3 and edit it a bit more. For now, enjoy ❤️

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#aziraphale #crowley #crowley x aziraphale #good omens #good omens2 #aziracrow #good omens fanfiction #azicrow #good omens 3 #good omens theory #unknown

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wandering-winchesters · 1 year

Text

Take Me Back

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2,442

Summary: Based on the song, The Night We Met by Lord Huron, might be multiple parts dependent on how this one goes over.

Trigger Warnings: None really, language and angst.

A/N: I apologize for how long it has been since I have posted. It has honestly been a crazy month. After closing on my house, my grandfather passing away, getting everything settled... My husband and I found out that we are expecting our first child. So, it has been a crazy time. I hope you enjoy this fic, it has been bouncing around my brain for awhile.

All of You

Laughter erupts from my parted lips, Deans fingertips digging into the curve of my waist. His movements causing me to almost drop the jar of sauce that I am holding.

“You’re an ass, De.” I chuckle, swatting his hands away from my side where he was just tickling my skin.

“Mmm no, but you have a nice one.” He grins followed by a smirk as he grabs a handful of my ass through the fabric of my jeans. I again, swat his hand away. I roll my eyes at him and return to the spot I had been standing before he decided to annoy me. “I am trying to make you dinner here, idiot. The more you pester me, the longer it will take me to finish this damn lasagna.” I finish layering the sauce on top of the noodles and sprinkle the mozzarella cheese on top, before Dean gets in my way again. He reaches into the bag of cheese and pinches some between his fingers, before dropping it into his open mouth. He repeats the action, but instead of placing in his mouth, he drops it onto my head, a shit eating grin plastered across his face. I swear under my breath, sliding the lasagna into the oven and turning on my heel. A towel gripped in my hand, I start to twirl it around with the intention of smacking him in the leg with it, but he sees my plan and stops me by pinning my wrist to my side.

“Oh no you don’t, I know that trick all too well.” He laughs, presses a kiss to my forehead and draws me into his arms. Our laughter settles, turning to small chuckles and then silence. I rest my forehead against his chest and inhale deeply, taking in every ounce of him. Every second of this moment, the peace not something to take for granted.

“I love you.” I whisper, snuggling closer to him.

“I love you, more.” Dean replies, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

Most of You

"You're not coming, Y/N. It's too dangerous, that's my final answer." Dean growls, his back turned to me as he angrily zips up his duffle. The cloth of his t-shirt gettings caught in the zipper, his anger towards me coming out on his belongings.

"Since when, is that for you to decide Dean? You are not in charge of me. You never have been, you never will be." I bite back, harshly wiping away the tears that had formed at the corner of my eyes. "I might not be as good as you, or as strong as you, but I am not and idiot!" I yell, my voice growing louder with every word that I threw back at him. My body is shaking, anger pulsing through my veins. Its at that moment that I can see his demeanor completely change, his shoulders drop and his face softens towards me.

"Y/N, I don't think you're an idiot. Sweetheart, I just don't want you to get hurt. That's all, there have been too many close calls recently and I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you." His hands rub my arms, gently bringing warmth back to my skin. I nod, his words still stung but the anger was beginning to subside.

"I love you, sweetheart, please just stay here." I did as he asked, again. The amount of time that I had spent alone recently, was absurd. His overprotectiveness had become overbearing. It was cute at first, but now it was suffocating. Even when he was home and we were together, it was nothing like it used to be.

Some of You

The motel bed quickly grew cold, the sheets no longer radiating the heat from Deans sleeping body. I wince, pulling myself up into a sitting position and carefully propping up against the bed-frame. My ribs sore and radiating pain from where I had been thrown up against the wall, by a less than friendly casper. I had talked Dean into letting me come with him, since Sam was otherwise occupied. It had been a job to convince him to let me come, he had insisted it was a bad idea. That I could get hurt. Or that something worse could happen. I had insisted on coming with him, the desire to be near him outweighed the risks in my mind. He had eventually given in, my puppy dog eyes and the promise of cuddling him every night was enough to get my way. However, I don't think it will ever be enough to convince him again. I had been distracted, for half a second, which gave the spirit a moment to swoop in and throw me across the room. It had knocked me unconscious, Dean's voice and hands shaking me awake. His eyes wide and full of absolute fear.

He hadn't said much to me since then, he had brought me back to the motel, cleaned my wounds and insisted that we went to bed. I tossed and turned most of the night, until Dean got up and took a shower. I let my head fall back against the wall, inhaling a deep breath and steeling my nerve for when Dean emerges from the bathroom.

He finally does, his eyes locking with mine almost immediately.

"Hi," I whisper, giving him a small smile. One that he doesn't return, he rolls his eyes and turns his back to me in order to finish getting dressed. My heart jumps to my throat, hurt rising from his blatant attitude of anger towards me.

"Dean, you cant ignore me forever." I say, hoping to get him to engage with me in any form of communication. I brace myself for his response, knowing that it isn't going to be a kind reaction. "I told you that it wasn't a good idea for you to come with me! Y/N, I knew something like this would happen! You got hurt, this is why I didn't want you to come! You're so clumsy and you were distracted and if I hadn't been there, you would have died!" Dean snaps, his eyes dark and cold. The love that they used to hold for me no longer at the forefront of his gaze.

"Dean, it was an accident. Accidents happen, I'm okay baby." I whisper, silently begging him to look at me. But it didn't work, the silent treatment still his most used tactic.

We left the motel a few hours later, silence still hanging between us and headed back to the bunker. No matter what I tried, he was just quiet. He was angrier now, meaner and nowhere near as gentle with me. The question of what changed floated through my head on a constant, the answer hanging just out of reach.

None of You

I set my final box down, inside the doorway to the apartment. It feels cold and empty, an unforgiving space that I would do anything to leave behind. The bunker had been my home for years and the thought of going back to living alone was a depressing and painful thought. Dean simply didn't love me anymore, the words had come straight from his mouth. Whether they were from anger or fear, I never let him explain. We had been fighting too often, his words were no longer kind and understanding, they were brutal and designed to hit me where it hurts. He had become bitter and mean, the man that I had fallen in love with had changed, no matter how hard I tried to stop it. I clung to the good, but it just wasn't enough.

I slid down the wall, my back pressed against it, bringing my knees to my chest. I pull my phone from my pocket, the lock screen still the picture of Dean leaning against the Impala. On one of the days where we had managed to have a few minutes of peace. The calm before the ever present storm.

4:57 P.M. Sam: hey, all your stuff is gone. Dean is drunk and won't talk to me. Are you okay? 7:15 P.M. Sam: Y/N, please just let me know you are okay. I won't say a word to Dean if that's what it takes. I'm worried. 8:17 P.M. Y/N: I'm okay Sam. I moved out. I'll let him tell you why.

I turned my phone off, ignoring the several missed calls from Dean's cellphone and the dozen or so voicemails that he had left. It was too little too late, his words from our last fight still stung.

For so long, it had been Dean and I against everything. The demons of this world and the next. Until one day, where everything changed. The other shoe finally dropped and it was me against him.

I have to figure out how to stand on my own two feet once again, as painful as it is.

Take me back, to the night we met.

“I need another, please.” I slide my empty glass towards the bartender behind the counter. The ice clinks against the glass, a reminder of the margarita that I had quickly finished. The bartender nods, grabbing my empty and quickly replacing it with another. I thank him and continue to scroll aimlessly through my phone, sipping from the cold liquid, the liquor just strong enough to sting as it goes down. The pit in my stomach, slowly decreasing as the liquor dulls my sense.

“Bad day?” It’s at that moment, that I notice the man sitting to my left. I look at him for a second, taking in the sight before my eyes. He’s tall, from the look of it. His legs are long, stretched down to the floor instead of the footrest on the barstool. His eyes are a piercing green, to the point where if I didn’t know better, I would say that he was staring into my soul. I blink again, shaking my head slightly to clear my thoughts.

“One of the worst I’ve had as of late.” I sigh, resorting to taking another sip of my drink. He chuckles and slides over to the barstool directly next to mine. He signals to the bartender to get both of us another drink, even though I have barely made a dent on my current one.

“Tell me about it.” He says, his directness catches me off guard. I look at him again, scanning his face for any kind of deception or bad intention. Yet, there is none. I find myself yearning to trust him, even though he is a total stranger to me. His demeanor one that just pulls you in as soon as you lay eyes on them.

“Why? Are you going to drug me and take me hostage?” I ask, placing my elbow on the bar and swiveling my stool in such a way that I can look at him without having to crane my neck. He laughs again, clear and deep. His eyes crinkling in the most attractive way possible. “Dammit, Sweetheart, you have foiled my oh so evil plan.” He hesitates, looking at me, studying me. “But really, why is such a pretty woman having such a shit day?” I hesitate, killing time by taking a long sip from my margarita, I brush the hair back out of my face and look at him once again.

“I lost my job. Something about ‘budget cuts’, but in reality it’s because I wouldn’t sleep with my boss.” I expect him to tease me, call me a prude and then a slut in the same sentence.

“Want me to go beat him up for you? I will, no strings.” He offers, the look on his face incredibly serious. I laugh, expecting him to join in, but he doesn’t.

“You know what rubs salt in the wound?” I ask and he raises an eyebrow, taking a sip of his beer. “When I turned him down, he called me a whore. Told me I was ugly and wasn’t worth his time. Which is just ridiculous, he had spent months harassing me.” I shake my head, draining the last of my second drink and turning to the third, the one mystery green eyes bought for me.

“Well, if I ever run into this asshole, which I hope that I do, I will make sure he knows who the bad guy is. I’m sorry you had to deal with him. He doesn’t deserve an ounce of your time or concern.” His words are sharp, but pointed and direct. Yet they make me feel slightly better about the bad day I had been having. “What’s your name, green eyes?” I ask him, changing the subject in an attempt to keep him invested in our conversation.

“Dean, yours?” He responds, his body bladed towards my own, eyes never leaving my face.

“Y/N.”

We talked for hours at that bar, until last call. The conversation ranging from light and humorous, to the darker parts of our lives that weren’t often discussed. For such a gorgeous man who I gladly would’ve accepted one night with, it seemed as though fate would have it another way. He insisted on driving me home, stating that I was much too intoxicated to walk home. I didn’t argue, he was right. I had continued drinking long after he switched from beer to water. Even though I knew the dangers of getting into a strangers car, they didn’t phase me. I already felt safe with him, even though I couldn’t put a finger on why.

“Do you wanna come in?” I asked him, my fingers hooked into the pockets on his jacket. A motion intended to draw myself closer to him, but the alcohol in my veins had different plans. I wobbled, dangerously near falling off my porch. Dean gripped my forearms, tugging me tight against his chest to stop me from falling. A motion that caused a wave of dizziness to sweep across my sense, once I regained composure I looked up at him. His green eyes focused on my face, I could feel his want for me in this moment. He smiled, kissed my forehead and gently pushed me towards my front door.

“Not tonight, you are too drunk for me to feel comfortable taking what I want from you.” He says, a sentence that ignites every inch of my body. He wants me. He respects me. I nod, thank him for bringing me home and head inside. Little did I know, that meeting this tall green eyed man, would change the course of my life. Forever.

Tag List:

@roseblue373 @jc-winchester @hobby27 @mishreem

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