I'd Answer
You've been gone. Azriel's been broken. Something has to change, and Azriel would do anything.
Part 2 of If You Cared to Ask
“This is for you,” Mor huffed, plopping down a small bouquet of roses onto the growing garden that seemed to have sprouted on the table. “What is that, number twelve?”
“I don’t know, I don’t count them,” you brushed off, your gaze falling on the gifts for a fleeting moment.
Mor hummed. “Are they doing anything for you?”
“Not particularly.”
Your friend shuffled into the small sitting room and gracefully landed in the chair beside yours, her eyes piercing a hole in the side of your head when you refused to look up. She sighed, and then sighed again, making a show of slotting her chin in her palm and looking forlorn.
The third sigh was your breaking point.
You placed your book on the table and turned to Mor with your brows raised. “Yes?”
“Oh, nothing,” she airily replied. “I was just wondering when you were going to give this up. You don’t have to forgive the guy, but at least put me out of my misery and let me tell him where you’re staying. I’m basically a delivery service at this point. He says sorry again, by the way.”
“Oh, well in that case—”
“More than just sorry, but I can’t remember everything he said. It was all rambly and his face was all gaunt.” Mor pressed her fingers up to cover her eyes. “I’m not even sure if he’s eating. Rhys had to stop sending him out because he almost fell out of the sky.”
“Is this supposed to make me feel bad?”
You hoped your ruse was believable because hearing that Azriel was doing so poorly did make you feel bad. Your heart lept up to your throat at the prospect of your mate falling from the sky from exhaustion. But he had had so many opportunities to make this right and you weren’t about to give up your anger so easily.
Mor offered a sad expression that looked authentic this time. “Y/n, he loves you. He’s an idiot and the whole lot of them are mindless fools, but Azriel has never loved anything the way he loves you.”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” you snorted. “And he shows that love by forgetting me and then arguing when I’m clearly upset over it?”
“I know. He told me how much of an ass he’s been. But, I promise you, I’ve known Azriel for a long time. He was just—just handling everything with Rhys poorly. He felt so so guilty when Rhys got trapped. You know that.”
You bit the inside of your cheek and avoided Mor’s gaze. “I know.”
The lack of vitriol in your tone had Mor perking up. “And you remember how hard he tried to get him back—how broken he was when Rhys sent out his last message. Az feels responsible for everything when it comes to his family.”
You didn’t need the reminder. The tortured way he carried himself over the past 50 years was evidence enough of the truth behind Mor’s words. And you had been there to soothe that pain, to help run the court that Rhys left behind.
When silence persisted, Mor craned her neck to catch your gaze. “I’m not saying what he did was right, but you know he’s been in overdrive since Rhys returned. He goes off on those missions when Rhys calls, but… y/n, he only leaves without notice when his informants…”
Mor trailed off.
Your gaze finally flickered up. “When?”
Mor bit her lip and winced. “He told me not to tell you this part. He said he didn’t want you to think he was making excuses.”
“Tell me anyways.”
“Fine. But you can’t rat me out.” Mor sighed and leaned back in the chair, still facing you. “He does go on every mission Rhys proposes, and that’s… stupid, but he tells you about those ones, I think. When he just up and leaves, it’s because—y/n, it’s because they're about you. You know there’s a slew of people that want you dead for your involvement up in Illyria. He has a team of informants with the sole purpose of listening for you name.
“He goes on Rhys’s missions because he doesn’t want his family separated again, but sometimes, it’s because he just wants to protect his mate.”
A stone dropped past your ribs and into your stomach. “But, he never told me—”
“You know these overgrown bats think that suffering in silence is an honorable thing to do,” Mor rolled her eyes. “They overwork themselves fighting the good fight or whatever and seem to forget that the rest of the world is still out there, facing the consequences of their actions. And… I think he just wanted you to feel safe. I think he’s been scared.”
Something sickly climbed its way up your consciousness. You looked down at your hands as they rested in your lap.
You hadn’t seen Azriel in six days, and each day had more anger coursing through you, building up a wall that you thought impenetrable. Because you were so angry; Azriel had disappointed you time and time again, left you feeling abandoned and alone, and then he got defensive about it as if you were the one at fault.
Part of you always knew it was a defense of some sort, but you had thought it a defense of something nefarious. You had tossed around the idea of infidelity a few times, and that rivaled the thought of him simply falling out of love with you.
But it was this.
It was him hiding how hard he’d been trying to protect you—however idiotic his tactics may have been.
“You can tell him where I am,” you murmured clenching your fingers into your palm. “And leave the door unlocked, I guess.”
Mor had left the small apartment on the outskirts of Velaris before you finished your sentence.
It took approximately 7 minutes for a tentative knock to sound at your door.
Mor had left it unlocked, but there was still a knock.
You took a glance at the pile of flowers on the table before heading to the front door. The old floorboards creaked under your feet, a reminder of the rundown apartment you had sought out after you left. It was a frantic process, searching for a place to stay; you hadn’t cared much for luxury or comfort.
Opening the door was jarring. Azriel’s wings were half-raised as if he’d just flown down and then forgot how to control them. His face was pallid with dark smudges beneath his eyes. His hair was windswept, expected from the flight, but it looked tugged at and disheveled beyond that.
“Hi.”
Maybe you’d been looking him over too long because Azriel’s voice cracked at the single word. He sounded unsure, verging on afraid, and all you had done was pass over his figure with your eyes.
You tightened your grip on the door handle. “Um, hi.” Your tone was harsher than you meant it to be.
Azriel flinched. “I’m sorry, Mor said…”
“No, I—Come in.”
You stepped back and pushed the door open to accommodate his hesitant steps into your rental. Azriel stood in the middle of the space and wrung his hands as you shuffled behind him, a slight tremor showing in his fingers. You leaned back against the door with your own hands pressed at the small of your back. You watched Azriel’s lingering gaze trail over the flowers in the corner of the room.
“You didn’t like them?” he meekly asked.
Something inside of you hurt.
“They were okay,” you answered. “But I didn’t want flowers.”
Azriel nodded and his lashes fluttered shut. His hands twitched.
“I’m sorry—for the flowers, I mean. They were a pathetic reason to send Mor to you. You wanted to be left alone.”
“I did not want to be left alone, Azriel.” You kicked away from the door, bringing your arms across your chest for some form of protection. “I wanted you. I wanted you to care about me.”
“I do,” Azriel stressed. He took a step forward and the wood beneath his boot creaked. “I do, y/n. I care about you more than anything—I love you.”
“Then why couldn’t you show me? Why did it take me leaving, me getting hurt, for you to finally listen to me and see how much I’ve needed you?”
Your chest was heaving, each word from your lips a choked gasp. Azriel took all of it and absorbed your full meaning, seeming to wince at every insinuation that he didn’t love you. His jaw quivered and he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
“Why did you stop talking to me?” you asked, a broken rendition of your anger. “Why—Mor told me… She told me things. Things that make sense. But why does it feel like I don’t matter to you?”
“My love,” Azriel stressed. Yearned. He rushed forward, abandoning all reservations and gathering you into his arms as tears began making headway down your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, baby. I can’t—I’m so so sorry.” His words were almost lost against your temple as he held you, each apology a whisper of a kiss against your skin.
“You weren’t there and Devlon—he—”
“I know, angel, I know and I’m so sorry. Had I known… Had I listened.” He pulled you back from his chest, crouching down to meet your eye and wiping tears from your cheeks. “All I’ve ever wanted to do was keep you safe. I thought I was doing that. I don’t know what Mor told you—”
“She told me everything. She told me you’ve been following leads about me and taking on too much. She told me you’re scared.”
Azriel breathed and it sounded anguished. “I am terrified. We lost Rhysand and now you are in the throes of a society that almost killed me. I—I wake up every morning and everything is good and I am so afraid to lose that. I thought I was protecting you, protecting us. But I almost lost you and—”
You let out a breathy cry. “You could never lose me, Azriel.”
He pressed his forehead to yours, the wetness of his cheeks now apparent. Azriel’s hands were firm on either side of your head and his fingers laced up into your hair.
Gods, you missed him.
You missed him and everything hurt.
“I’ll do better. I’ll be better. Just please—please, don’t leave again. Please come home. Let me fix this.”
The want was overwhelming. It would be so easy to say yes, but it would be just as easy for nothing to change.
“You can’t do that again, Azriel,” you stressed, shaking your head and causing your mate to draw back. Only a breath was left between you. “You have to tell me what’s going on. You can’t—you can’t leave me in the dark. You can’t make me feel like that.”
Azriel’s head shook in desperation. “I won’t. I promise I won’t.”
“I need to know I can rely on you—trust you.”
“You can, angel.”
“I need to know that you love me.”
A pained sound escaped Azriel’s throat. He licked his lips and reaffirmed his hold on your face, locking his eyes with yours in a beseeching gaze.
“I love you more than life itself, angel. I couldn’t breathe when you were gone. I can’t believe I made you think that I don’t. You are my life. Let me show you. Please, let me show you.”
You tracked your eyes between both of his. “Okay, Azriel.”
“I’m going to keep you safe.”
“I am safe.”
“I love you.”
"I know you do, Az. I know."
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18+mdni
pairing: walter marshall x fem reader
drabble
tags: fingering — overprotective and controlling walter — kinda dark — dirty talk — teasing of pregnancy & breeding — bite mark — brief mention of bleeding wound
summary: walter’s controlling protection suffocates you. one day you try to fight it off but he shows you exactly why you shouldn't.
author’s note: I'm just horny for this man I have no excuse
ৎৎৎ
“say it out loud. admit what you did wrong.” walter orders in a gruff voice as you watch his hand disappear underneath your panties from the mirror situated before you. you jump a little when his knuckles brush against your bare pussy and recite your words again. he remains behind you, bending forward slightly.
“I turned off my location so you wouldn't find me.”
you're sitting on a chair that walter has personally placed before the body length mirror of your shared bedroom. on purpose of course. he wants you to watch as he does this; as he asserts back his dominance and reminds you of your exact place which is always near him. he wasn't always so protective but he'd gotten worse because of his job and you couldn't exactly blame him when he'd told you about the traumatic cases and the doctor visits — which by the way never helped. at first sharing your location was fine until you began receiving texts and calls that disturbed your privacy, such as ‘don't park there it's dangerous’ or ‘why are you in that place? you told me you'd visit the other one’ or even ‘that restaurant is too intimate for colleague dinners.’ to sum up walter’s way of caring had transformed into something controlling almost but breaking up with him wasn't an option either; not when you loved him so much.
you shift slightly on the chair until only your buttocks are brushing against the wood. your eyes observe the way walter’s thick fingers move beneath your underwear, through the mirror, and when he deems it impossible for his large hand to move like this he rips them off you. “remind me of the reason we keep your location on, sweetheart?” there is no sarcasm in his voice but there is much threat and promise of what he'll do to punish you. your legs spread willingly as a pair of thick fingers brushes against your pussy again, walter’s middle and ring finger sliding from your entrance up to your clit and creating a repetitive motion that has your legs shaking. “to keep me safe and sound.” you reply with a whine as walter nudges your swollen clit with his thumb. you moan. “good girl. it's to keep you safe so naturally when you turn it off, I can't fucking do that. can I?” he yells at you — he's never been angrier — but you're so stupid and shameless. and disrespectful.
you can feel an entirely new wave of wetness gush out of you as walter yells. your pussy clenches around nothing and he feels the shake of your cunt against his stained fingers. you want to cum like this, just by having walter yell at you and slightly tap your pussy. but then walter is doing more for you, sliding his fingers over your entrance and circling it slowly with his middle finger. “so ungrateful, so cold to me. after everything I do to keep you alive.” you want to deny everything, to fight back, but walter is sliding a finger past your hole and it suddenly doesn't really matter. the slide is easy and you're drenched, confirming your desire for him. walter hums to himself as he begins pumping his finger inside you and the slide of his second finger is just as easy — it has surely helped that he was teasing you for minutes before actually touching you like this. your pussy is wet and there's precum staining your inner thighs which are close to your heat. “walter—”
you moan again when he curls his fingers upwards and follows a fast pace. your legs shake and spread wider. your hands hug the arm that's using you, the one whose fingers are absolutely abusing your gummy walls. his warm palm keeps brushing against your clit as he fucks you with his hand, his fingers reaching deep inside you. “what will you have me do next, sweetheart? impregnate you so you can stay at one place like a good girl?” his words aren't helping with your arousal and walter knows you love this from the way your pussy is clamping down on his fingers, not letting go. he goes faster and the way he pumps his thick fingers inside that sensitive pussy of yours is too good, too much.
his mouth latches onto your throat from behind as he keeps grinding his palm against your clit. “is this what I have to do? lock you up and breed you until you're swollen with my kids? hm?” his teasing words make you whimper and as much as you want to play it difficult and shake your head, you don't. your head falls back on his chest and walter sinks his teeth into your shoulder, biting too hard that your skin becomes tainted with red colour. the pain assists your orgasm as you reach your peak, walter’s fingers fucking into you as you let out a shuddering scream of his name. he's right there, not bothering to wipe the blood off your shoulder when his bite mark looks so good. when he doesn't stop teasing your sensitive pussy, you whine and your hands try to push his arm away instead of hugging it like before.
walter doesn't listen but he throws you over his shoulder, his fingers somehow still stuffing your warm cunt. he wordlessly throws you on your shared bed and the words die in your throat when he looms over you imposingly, his hand reaching for his belt. “will you do that again, sweetheart?” he asks and you're immediately shaking your head, your back arching off the bedsheets because of the tone he's using on you. walter seems happy with your reply but not fully convinced. “w-walter?” your fear is like a bonus pleasure for him and he finds himself rushing to unclasp the leather around his pants. “I never said we were done.” walter growls and the way those blue eyes stared down at you prepare you for one thing alone; to receive a proper punishment.
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Cw: threats to reader with a knife.
You're out for a walk in the woods, when you come across Alastor of all people, walking along, your eyes widen as he spots you at the exact moment you spot the bloody knife in his hand.
Startled, you step back and look around nervously before focusing on Alastor once more in horror.
You: "A-Alastor? W-What are you doing here?"
You try to keep your voice steady, innocent, heart pounding in your chest.
Alastor: "Why I just wanted some peace and quiet, my Dear, a nice calming walk, just as I'm sure was your purpose for being out at such an hour, hmm?"
Internally he berates himself, he had been courting you gradually and now this?! How... Sloppy.
Your eyes dart to the knife in his hand, fear creeping into your eyes, to Alastor's dismay but also advantage.
You: "W-Why do you have that?"
His smile grew wider as he saw the fear in your eyes.
Alastor: "Oh, this? Just something I carry around for protection."
He chuckles lightly, taking half a step closer to you.
Alastor: "But I must say, I wasn't expecting to see you here. It's quite a surprise, a pleasant one."
Alastor lies, trying to stop you from running, trying to charm his way into relaxing you.
Alastor: "I hope you don't mind if I join you, after all it'll be more safe and fun that way don't you think?"
Alastor's tone is filled with amusement. You feel nothing but terror in his presence right now, a hard contrast to the affable charming man you always felt at ease around before... Maybe even loved.
You take another step back, feeling uneasy about his proximity and the knife.
You: "I-I don't know, Alastor. I-I think I prefer being alone right now."
You swallow hard, trying to hide your anxiety. Despite your efforts to sound confident, your voice trembles slightly, betraying your fear.
You: "P-Please, just leave me alone."
You plead, breaking the pretense and hoping he would listen. Alastor tilted his head to the side, studying you intently, how interesting, you were certainly different than the others... Perhaps he wouldn't kill you... Yet.
Alastor: "Ah, but where's the fun in that?"
He took another step toward you, closing the distance between you two further, to your utter panic.
Alastor: "Besides, I don't think I can let such a rare opportunity slip away. A chance encounter with such a lovely morsel, in the middle of the woods, it's almost too perfect."
Alastor's voice is dripping with sarcasm, knowing exactly how to panic cornered prey into making mistakes.
You feel a chill run down your spine as Alastor steps even closer, your heart beating faster with every passing moment.
You: "P-Please, Alastor. I-I don't want any trouble."
You beg, taking another step back. Your foot hits a tree root, causing you to lose your balance and fall backward onto the damp ground
You: "Ahh!"
Landing on your back with a loud thud. As you fell, Alastor couldn't help but laugh at the sight. You really were making this too easy.
Alastor: "Oh, how clumsy of you."
He walked over to you, laugh echoing in the isolated area, bouncing off trees, no-one would ever find your body here.
Soon Alastor is standing above you knife glinting in the moonlight, you're frozen in fear, heart pounding in your chest, you try to scream for help but not a sound escapes, you're trapped in your own body, paralysed by your own pathetic weakness.
Alastor: "Now, what? Right! I believe I was about to join you."
Alastor smirked, lowering himself to sit on top of you, pinning you to the ground, almost like taking a seat for tea, before leaning over you, knife edge finding its way against your throat as tears well in your eyes.
Alastor: "Don't worry, I won't hurt you too much."
Alastor whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin, he even has the audacity to nip at the flesh there, reveling in the shiver that wracks your already shaking form.
Alastor's firm body presses to yours, so warm as you feel frozen, such a parody of how things used to be. You even whimper slightly at the sight of his dilated eyes and the bulge you were sure you felt twitch against your hip.
Alastor: "Now where was I? Ah yes... Threatening you."
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BRUCE WAYNE + JEALOUSY.
note : this was requested, and i didn't know if you wanted an imagine or headcanons, but i felt it would be easier as a headcanon sooo here we are :)
not proofread !
bruce is not easily "jealousified"
made jealous ?
he's not easily made jealous
he's quite sensible, mature, understanding, all those things
i've gonz into this in detail in the batfam love languages and i will find a way to go into it in every headcanon but bruce really cherishes trust
wants to trust you and wants you to trust him
so, if he trusts you enough, he doesn't doubt for a moment that you're not enabling the guy flirting with you
what i'm trying to say is that he doesn't get jealous of you or anything because he trusts you wouldn't purposely put yourself in a position like that
but he may get jealous ( he says protective, but potato potato ) whzn he notices someone getting overly comfortable with you like
or flirty
he can tell the signs of a flirt even when he's on the other end of the room
he's an ex-serial flirt after all
say you're at an event together, a gala, you're both all dressed up
and you look gorgeous / handsome, he just can't stop looking at you the entire night, even when he's halfway across rhe room
but he's noticed someone else has their eyes on you
i mean everybody there has admired you for a few seconds tonight
but i mesn this guy is like
looking likz they're about to approach
and bruce is trying to time it right before he steps in, becquse who knows ? maybe he's delusional and been imagining it this whole time
( spoiler alert he hasn't !!!!! )
as soon as he sees thzt guy in his rented tux approach you, bruce excuses himself from the conversation he was having with someone to insert himself in this new unwanted one
slings a casual but protective arm around your waist, careful not to snag your attire on his cufflink, and offers the person that award winning smile
they'll back off pretty quick
bruce wayne is nice and all, but any sane person would refrain from getting on his bad side
which is probably why tommy elliot keeps trying to call his office
if in public though, bruce may have some trouble being more assertive
like he doesn't want to make a scene, and he's literallh at the grocery store with you becausz you wanted him along to grab somz ingredients to cook together back at your place
it isn't super obvious who he is at first
a guy in a dallas cowboys cap, his usual white button-up, black trousers and shiny leather oxfords replaced with a white t-shirt, the sleeves tight around his biceps, a pair of jeans and some sneakers he isn't quite comfortable in yet
like that's not bruce wayne is it ???
and who knew he was a cowboys fan ??
he was off in the frozen aisle, contemplating whether to buy a box of ice lollies to share with you after dinner
when he returned to you in the fresh fruits section, a man was talking to you
not bugging you per se, no bullying or harassmzent
but he sees him pull his phone from his pocket and gesture to it
this guy wants your number ????
i think the fuck not
so bruce approaches, acting all casual until he's beside you, frosty box of lollies under his arm, and tips his cap up slightly to reveal more of his face
that alone is enough for the guy to slide his phone back into his pocket
bruce doesn't want to embarrass or shame anybody, but he does know he wants to show the world how important you are to him
it's not your fault everybody wants you so bad !!
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I hate how Riley Finn is presented as the perfect boyfriend by the narrative. I know Joss Whedon wanted to show an "healthy" relationship between him and Buffy. And really he failed miserably.
If anything Riley is barely presented as a good boyfriend. Maybe in some instances, like when Buffy thinks of dividing herself in two and he answers that he wants the "whole" Buffy. He seems impressed by her strong personality when she stands against Maggie on Willow's behalf. Maybe it's also her loyalty that draw him to her. But I'm not sure about it. He's also very curious about her physical strength and her mission. And that's great (on the surface at least). I don't think he understands her mindset concerning the slay. It's a game for him. Not for Buffy.
And quickly, he becomes envious and jealous of her strength and powers. He wants to be the strongest of the two. He wants her to be dependent of him for protection and emotional support. It's particulary clear when he loses his purpose in the initiative. But it was already there before.
He's upset about ridiculous things, honestly. He's angry that Buffy got betwitted by Dracula as if it was her fault. Didn't he say in a scene that Buffy allowed Angel and Dracula to bit her and have an hold on her ? That's obviously what he's jealous for. He seems to think to think they had her in a way he never could. He goes to the vampires for that very same reason, to be bitten, to experience it in the first place. Then he stays because they "need" him. He's unhappy when Dawn confesses that she's glad her sister is with him because Buffy was always crying because of Angel. This scene always makes me upset. The teenager is happy for her sister and he's there wondering about Buffy's love for him.
It honestly feels like he dislikes some of the most important traits of Buffy. Her strength, her resilience, her independence, her mission... he wants her to rely on him more. He's upset that she doesn't allow herself to be vulnerable in front of him. To be fair, she doesn't want to be "weak" in front on anyone, but he doesn't care about it. He only cares about his own feelings.
He has insecurities (and actually that's important) but he blames it on Buffy. His jealousy, his envy, his cowardice, he selfishness... it never got properly adressed. When they have their confrontation, after she discovered about the vampires, he explains himself (finally) and blames her. He's really a moron for not talking to her before. I get it's hard. But he's the one being stupid in the room. Not her. His communication skills fucking suck. You could argue he didn't want to put more weight on her, but at this point of the story he could have told her.
What really matters to him is him... his feelings. And with the ultimatum, he only gets worse. Man, if you want to leave, then leave. It's not her responsabilty to choose for you. You're just acting like a child...
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