#i don’t think i’ll ever forgive myself for that

[nervousyoungtwinfantasydog]

hey alexa, play “bodys” by car seat headrest

[subconscious-solipsist]

I chickened out and didn’t talk to slut equality lotr mullet man and I hate myself for that

[whimsycore]

I dunno thinking abt how much I’ve needed people, the same people who either put me in horrible situations to begin with, knew about them, or prentended to care n when it was inconvenient for them to be near me or just talk to to me they straight up left me for dead. This has happened personally and professionally.

[gtgbabie0]

-Benjicot Blackwood x smallfolk!reader

{The Realm seems to have spiralled into disarray, Benjicot makes promises of protecting you}

Short and sweet because I can’t help myself, Enjoy my lovelies 💕

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺

The days seem much longer since the crowning of Aegon Targaryen, the Realm quickly swearing their fealty to whatever side could offer up the best deal or come across as the most threatening. Men were quick to take up swords, training all through the day and deep into the night.

Benjicot was not exempt from this, immediately following suit. Although it came naturally to him, a sword in his hand gave him a boost of confidence like you’ve never seen before and suddenly he was ready to take off into battle with an eagerness that would put anyone on edge.

It took up most of his time, unfortunately. The growing space between the pair of you was noticeable, you wouldn’t hold it against him, you couldn’t. Especially not when he visits you at the end of every day with a boyish grin and messy hair.

“Missed you today.” He breaks the silence, standing awkwardly at the doorway, watching you potter around the small kitchen.

Several moments pass and you still don’t even give him a glance, focused rather stubbornly on the task of scrubbing down the already pristine countertops. He makes a popping noise with his lips repeatedly, trying to gauge a reaction or at the very least your gaze.

With a groan he steps over to the dress you have been working tirelessly on, you have a talent for weaving threads and fabrics with your very hands, crafting the most beautiful dresses for the pretty ladies of the Vale for a rather pretty sum.

“Do not touch that with your filthy hands unless you wish to spend coin on new lace.” You tell him, turning around to meet his grin.

You have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop your lips from curling into a traitorous smile, the sight of him all dirtied and bloodied looked so out of place in the backdrop of pastel colours and the softest fabrics.

He puts his hands up in mock surrender, allowing you to tug him over to the wash basin with a chuckle that passes through his chapped lips.

His expression softens as he watches the way your gentle hands begin to wash the mud and blood from his own, so much more delicate than his, not sullied by violence and battle, no, they only knew needlework and he vows to keep it that way.

“I said I missed you today.” He repeats his earlier statement, tilting his head slightly towards yours to meet your eyes.

“I suppose I should be grateful then, Lord Blackwood.” The words leave a bad taste in your mouth, despite the fact that there was no malice behind them, but still, that doesn't stop the regret that immediately swells up inside your chest at the deflated look he gives you.

“I sense I’ve done something wrong, have I?…” he treads carefully, his eyes searching your expression as your hands carefully work to free them of muck.

You shake your head, drying off his hands as you stare down at them with a troubled look. “No… forgive me I have been rather on edge as of late.”

He hums in understanding at your words, glancing around the room, trying to think about the right thing to say, before finally looking back down at you. In truth, he has never been good at this, words, but for you, he’ll try.

“You got me and I’m better than anyone in battle, you’ve seen it yourself, I’ll protect you.” He states with so much confidence in his tone you can’t help but chuckle, it was true he became a wildly different person on the battlefield, a man possessed by the thrill.

You avert your eyes to the sword that stands, leaning up against the wall with your brows pinched together in worry. Benjicot’s hands immediately cup either side of your face with care, the feeling of his calloused hands keeps your mind from drifting off to every worst possible scenario.

“Hey, look at me.” He whispers, tipping your head up ever so gently. “If anything happens you’ll have refuge at Raventree.” He promises, his tone carrying a seriousness that he does not always have.

“You sound so sure they’ll just take me in…” You whisper, unsure if you’d be welcomed at all.

“I will demand it, and so will my Aunt, she loves you especially after you made her that riding jacket.” His words warm your heart, a soft smile gracing your lips at the memory of Alysanne, the gratefulness of her tone and the excitement in her eyes.

A warm smile spreads across your lips, his rough hands still cradling your face as if you were the most precious thing across Westeros, the pads of his thumbs caressing the space under your eye.

“Now, no more worrying, hmm?” He announces, pressing a kiss against your forehead with a smirk as you agree with a small whispered ‘Alright’

The pair of you soon find comfort in the warmth of your bed, listening to him ramble on vividly about his day, his hands moving all over the place to get his point across and for the time being everything seems to be peaceful.

[riseatlantisss]

The end we start from

Pairing : Astarion x female!reader/Tav Around 1,8 words Takes place after the events in Cazador's palace in act 3 (non-ascended Astarion, established relationship) Angst with a happy ending (and loooots of sex) <3

Astarion doesn’t feel good enough. you show him he’s everything.

TW : 18+ MDNI, unprotected sex, very angry/angsty/rough sex, fingering, mature language, mentions of death and depression, mentions of blood

A/N : when i don’t work, i do two things: i take care of my dog and i play BG3. i don’t eat. i don’t sleep. i don’t socialize. i just play BG3. and I write stuff about *him*.

Astarion is many things. Quiet is not one of them. But lately, that’s all he’s been, and you’ve been worrying about him night and day. Tonight is no exception. You wake up in the middle of the night and realize two things : not only is Astarion’s side of the bed empty but the sheets and pillows are untouched, uncrumpled. His side hasn’t been slept in. This isn’t right. Of course, he doesn’t really need to sleep but he always, always lays next to you at night, spooning you, playing with your hair and whispering sweet I love yous in your ear until you fall asleep. His absence means something’s off. Unable to shake off the anxiety, you get up in one swift motion, determined to find him. No chance you’re falling back asleep now anyway.

Your bare feet hit the cold marble floor and you shiver as you make your way accros the bedroom in a hurry. You think of searching outside in case he went for a hunt, but it turns out you don’t have to look too far. There he is, silently leaning against the wall by the window, gazing into the pitch-black night of the Underdark. The light in the room is so dim that you couldn’t even spot him from your bed. You approach him and your heart breaks a little when you notice the lingering sadness in his crimson eyes, enhanced by the faint light of the burning candles next to him.

You want to ask him if he’s ok but it’s obvious he’s not so instead, you remain silent and close the space between the two of you, wrapping your arms around him and gently resting your head on his shoulder.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask softly after a while, your voice barely above a whisper.

Astarion averts his gaze and gives you a faint smile, nothing but a twist of lips.

“Nothing,” he replies. “I’m just being selfish, as usual. Forgive me, y/n.”

You frown and stare at him incredulously. “You’re not selfish,” you say, surprised at how intensely he means it. “Why would you even say that?”

“I –” He pauses, rethinks his words. This does nothing to make you less worried. “I caused you great pain,” he finally says. “I put you in danger. Repeatedly, ever since we met. You could have died a hundred times and it would have been my own, entire fault.”

You look up to him and feel a lump form in your throat. You have never seen him look like this – grief in his eyes and etched into the lines of his face.

“I’m not dead, Astarion. I’m right here with you.” You say as you wrap your arms around his neck. He makes a sound somewhere near a sob and your arms tighten.

“But I did put you in danger and now you’re stuck with me for eternity, in the middle of nowhere, and you—" Again, he stops. He’s bad at this, at talking about emotions. But he fights through it because it’s you. And nothing can be left unsaid between the two of you. Not after everything that’s happened. “You deserve so much better. You deserve the world, and I can’t give it to you.” You’re not sure where this conversation is going but you don't want to find out. His lower lip quiver but he goes on, words spilling out of him like blood from a wound. “I can’t give it to you, and I’ll never be able to forgive myself for it. It’s killing me all over again.” You crumble under each one of his words. His lips are trembling now and you can’t stand it. You can’t but you can’t do him the dishonor of looking away either.

“Astarion, I chose this life.” Your hands flutter to his face, each one cupping a cold cheek, forcing him to look at you. Your heart is pounding, and you know he can feel it. “I had a choice; I could stay, or I could run, and I chose you. I’m not stuck here. I’m home.”

Astarion heaves a faltering breath in an attempt at composure. “Sometimes I think you would be happier without me. Better off.” He barely mouths the words, but you hear them all distinctively, nonetheless. “You should go and leave me here. Walk in the sun. Be happy and live your life.” You draw your hands away from his face and he steps back, speaking louder now.

“It won’t get any better in here,” he continues, gesturing urgently around the room. “It’ll always be cold and dark, I’ll always be a blood-thirsty monster. I belong to the shadows, and I’ll never be able to make you happy, so you might as well just leave.”

His words knock the air out of your lungs and, for a moment, you cannot breathe. You feel your pulse pounding in your veins and blood thrumming under your skin as your heartbreak turns into anger. That fucking idiot, you think, looking up at him through eyes blurred with tears.

“You don’t know what makes me happy. You don’t,” you shout, surprised by the vehemence in your voice. "And you certainly don't get to speak for me." Astarion looks at you in such confusion that you almost feel bad for a moment, but you continue.

“You – you make me happy, Astarion, gods you do. I would rather live an eternity in the Underdark with you than one more day in the fucking sun.” Your heart is clenching in your chest, and you can feel the heat pooling in your cheeks. “By no means would I be better off, let alone happier, without you. I can’t believe that you could even think –” You trail off and sigh in frustration. You can’t bring yourself to scream at him any longer because that’s all he’s ever known before you, screams and shouts and abuse, and you can’t do this to him. But that doesn’t leave you with many options to get through to him. Astarion opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t let him.

Without warning you grab his shirt to pull him close and your lips crash into his, knocking the breath out of both of you with the force that you collide with. It only fuels your rage because the moment his lips are on yours, you can’t help thinking that you almost lost this once and you can’t actually lose it. You won’t let that happen. So you kiss him harder. It’s rough and desperate and sloppy. It's harsh breath and biting teeth.

He turns you around and backs you against the wall. You take it rather hard, but you welcome the sting. Anything to shut him up about not being good enough for you. He crowds in closer, presses you even harder against the wall, shoving his knee between your thighs. His cold lips connect to your throat, making you eagerly tilt your head to give him access to your thrumming pulse dancing at your neck. You have absolutely no qualms about it. If he wants it, it’s his.

But he doesn’t take it. Instead, his mouth sucks and licks, making you squirm and rock your hips against him. You cling to him, grabbing his shoulders and sliding your hands down his shirt and to his back. He hoists you up like you weighed nothing and you wrap both legs around his waist. You tangle your hands in his curly silver hair and pull him forward to feel that mouth on yours again. His tongue running over your lip makes you grind faster, searching for more, more, more. You moan when his hand reaches beneath your gown and through your damp underwear.

Firm, icy fingers are stroking you into madness. You make a sound that’s close to a whimper, but more like a groan, because damn it, you are so impatient now. You are clenching – aching to have him inside.

He is gasping at the feeling of your fluttering around him, and you must be gasping too, but you’re not sure; your head falls back and it feels like you’re breathing, but you could just as well be drowning.

You dig your nails hard into his back - you need to channel the anger into something. Maybe you’ll be the one drawing blood this time. You lean forward to rest your dizzy head on his shoulder and groan in anticipation. Not wasting anymore time, he pushes his hard, large cock into you, going steadily until he’s all the way in.

“Harder. Fuck me harder.” You plead and he obeys.

He sets a pace that graces all the right spots, spurred on the increasingly desperate noises escaping your mouth. This is no effort at all for him, holding you up easily and fucking you hard with determination. But you can see it when you rest your forehead against his – the sheer weakness you feel is reflected right back at you and you know he needs this just as much as you do.

You are so close. You need to concentrate on breathing, just so you simply don’t die. Your lower back thuds against the wardrobe with your oh gods and fucks singing in tandem. The vampire trails open-mouthed kisses and little bites down your neck while maintaining the almost vicious pace in and out of you. Every stroke curls and loves and breaks you into submission. You forget to be angry because your release is in his hands and your body is desperately handing itself over to him.

Your thighs start to quiver around him, the sounds of wetness and the feeling of his own explosion of pleasure deep inside you taking you so high that eventually, you shatter into him. You’re so grateful for the strength holding you up, so you can fall apart.

Your repeatedly moan his name on your way back to consciousness, lips brushing softly against his pale skin.

Before you know what is happening, you break into a sob.

“Please…. Please don’t ever tell me to leave, ever again.” You try to articulate, your voice shaking uncontrollably.

He sinks down onto his knees, holding you in his lap and whispering, “Shh,” into your ear.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, his voice is low and full of gravel. He never sounded so sweet. “I love you, always have and always will. And you’re not going anywhere.”

[ahqkas]

Ex bf theo who was really toxic and was a bad bf but after the break up he matures and tries tonget you back?

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

THEODORE NOTT HAD ALWAYS BEEN AN ENIGMA, a puzzle that you never quite managed to solve. during your relationship, his brooding silence and sharp wit had initially drawn you in, but over time, they became the very things that chipped away at your happiness. he was toxic — possessive, distant, and emotionally unavailable. the relationship became a series of ups and downs, with moments of passion followed by long stretches of cold indifference. you spent too much time trying to reach him, trying to make him care the way you did, but in the end, it was clear that he wasn't ready to be the person you needed him to be.

the breakup had been inevitable. it was messy and painful, filled with harsh words and lingering regrets. you walked away shattered but determined to heal, to rebuild yourself without the weight of his darkness pulling you down. months passed, and slowly but surely, you began to find your footing again. life moved on, and so did you — or at least, you tried to.

then, one day, theodore showed up in your life again.

it was the warmest day of early september. you were in diagon alley, browsing through the rows of books at flourish and blotts, when you felt that painfully familiar presence behind you. your heart skipped a beat, a mixture of dread and curiosity flooding your senses. you turned, and there he was, standing awkwardly near the entrance, his hands buried deep in his pockets.

theodore looked different. although he was still the tall, slender figure with the same piercing eyes that once made your heart race, something had changed. his posture was more relaxed, his expression softer. gone was the constant scowl that used to mar his handsome features, replaced now with what seemed like genuine vulnerability.

“hey,” he said, his voice lower than you remembered, almost hesitant.

you blinked slowly, caught off guard by his presence. “theo?”

he shifted on his feet, glancing around the shop before meeting your gaze again. the use of his nickname by you stirred up unforgettable memories inside him. “can we talk? in private,”

you nodded at his request hesitantly and followed the boy, now who seemed like a man. he hurt you badly, and there was no reason for him to talk to you ever again, so why was he seeking you now?

theo’s quiet voice broke the silence between the two of you as you stood in a smaller aisle of the shop. “i’ve been thinking about you — a lot,” he admitted. “there’s something i have to say to you or i’ll go mad.”

you didn’t respond right away, unsure of what to expect. theodore had never been one to easily admit fault, and seeing him now, looking almost remorseful, was jarring. part of you wanted to turn and walk away, to avoid reopening old wounds, but another part — the part that once loved him truly and deeply — wanted to hear what he had to say.

“i know now i was a terrible boyfriend,” he began, his eyes not leaving yours. “i treated you horribly, and i don’t deserve your forgiveness. but i’ve changed. i know it’s hard to believe, but i’ve spent a lot of time thinking about everything i did wrong, everything i took for granted.”

he paused, as if searching for the right words. “i’ve been working on myself, trying to understand why i was the way i was. i didn’t realize how much i needed to grow up until you were gone.”

his words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. you could hear the sincerity in his voice, see the regret in his eyes, but it wasn’t easy to let go of the past. too many memories of broken promises and hurtful words still lingered in your mind.

“theo, i . . .” you hesitated, unsure how to respond. “i’m glad you’ve been working on yourself, really, but i don’t know if i can just forget everything that happened. you hurt me, a lot.”

he nodded and his eyes found comfort on your hands. “i know. and i don’t expect you to just take me back. i just wanted you to know that i’m sorry for how i was. truly. and . . . if there’s ever a chance, even a small one, that we could try again . . . i would do everything differently. i would be better for you.”

theodore nott’s words were raw, unfiltered, and they hit you in a way you hadn’t expected. this wasn’t the theodore you had known — the one who hid behind sarcasm and anger. this was someone who had faced his demons and was trying, really trying, to be a better man. but could you trust him? could you risk your heart again after everything that had happened?

“i need time, theo,” you finally said, your voice soft but firm. “i can’t just jump back into something that hurt me so much.”

the slytherin nodded again, a small, sad smile playing on his lips. “i understand. i’ll wait as long as it takes. and if you never want to try again, i’ll respect that too. i just needed you to know that i’m sorry, and that i’m here if you ever want to give us another chance.”

with that, he turned to leave, but not before giving you one last, lingering look — a look filled with all the things he had never been able to say before.

[daydreaming-nerd]

I’ll Crawl Home To Her (Azriel x Reader) 

AN: This was supposed to be based off But Daddy I Love Him but it morphed into something else but I'm kinda happy about it.

Summary: The story of how the princess of Velaris and the shadowsinger came to be.

Warnings: blood, injury, dickhead dads, bit of smut but it's not too descriptive (It's for the plot), angst, fluffy ending.

Word count: 8053

As a princess I was told that “hate” is a very strong word. Consequently, there weren’t a lot of things that I hated. For example, I greatly disliked when my tea came with too much milk, and I absolutely despised corsets. But if there was one thing I hated, and I mean truly hated, it was my father. 

If it wasn’t for the way he treated my mother and older brother then it would be the way he treated me. How he kept me from my beloved, my brother's best friend, the shadowsinger, my Azriel.  

Azriel had been mine long before my father ever knew about it. When I grew to be 207 my mother finally convinced my father to let me go to Windhaven with her to visit Rhys. I hadn’t seen my brother in years, as he had begun training with the Illyrians. 

He wrote me letters of course, detailing friends and enemies he made along the way. Two of which stood out to me, Cassian and Azriel. However these letters never made up for him in the flesh, which is why during my first trip to Windhaven I had never been so excited. To this day I still remember it…

The winter wind stung my cheeks as snow clung to the furs of my cloak. It was as if no matter how many layers I wore the wind found its way to barrel through and nip at my skin. 

I found myself walking along the edge of the camp, where the light of the fires couldn't reach me and only the moon gave me the ability to see. When my mother and I arrived at the little cabin Rhys was not there, after speaking to Devlon we found he was on assignment and would be home soon. 

After a few hours in the cabin I began to feel claustrophobic, so I took a walk around the heavily wooded area. There was something magic about the first snow of the season. The way the snow covered the ground and crunched under my boots. White capped trees that looked like they were frosted by the gods, and the still silence that came from the insulation the blanket of white provided.  

“It’s a little cold out don’t you-” a voice crooned behind me and stopped abruptly as I turned to face him. 

Standing frozen just a few feet from me was an Illyrian male with his mouth agape at the sight of me. He was large, his wings the biggest I had ever seen. Inky black hair framed his carved face as his hazel eyes frozen in shock as if he had just seen a ghost. 

“Forgive me,” he said, shaking his head a bit, as if to clear the fog from his mind. “It’s just that I don’t see many beautiful things up here, you startled me.” 

My cheeks flush and I pray he thinks it's from the cold and not the butterflies in my stomach. 

“I find that hard to believe when this is your view,” I smile, gesturing to the snow valley below us. “There’s nothing more beautiful than the first snowfall of the year.”

Footsteps crunch behind me as he comes up on my right, “Perhaps, but it pales in comparison to you,” he smirks and this time I know he can tell he’s the reason my cheeks are pink. “Might I have the honor of knowing your name?” 

I turn to meet his gaze once more but before I can answer back I hear a shout coming from far away. 

“Y/N!” my brother shouts charging towards me. 

“Rhys!” I call back running into his embrace. 

He lets out a groan as I leap into his arms, a pile of furs and wool as I pull him into me. The scent of sea salt and citrus filling my nose, the warmth of him seeping through my clothes. 

“Ahh little sister I’ve missed you,” Rhys says, setting me down to get a good look at me. 

“Little sister?” called the male behind me, his snow crunching footsteps coming towards Rhysand and I’s side. 

“It seems you’ve already met her, this is my little sister,  y/n.”Rhys beams, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Y/n this is my very good friend, Azriel.” 

“Azriel,” I blink, holding out my hand for the shadowsinger to shake. How had I not realized? Rhysand’s letters spoke of his shadowsinger friend, now that I looked at him, and I mean really looked at him, I could see the dark matter swirling around him. 

“Princess,” he says, bowing his head and pressing a kiss to my hand. “It is an honor to meet you. You’ll have to forgive my previous informality, I didn’t know who you were.” 

Rhysand let out a hearty laugh behind me, “Azriel my friend there is no need for such formalities, in fact my sister detests them.” he smiles. 

“It’s true, you can just call me y/n, I’m sure that we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other in the years to come.” I smile hoping I was speaking the truth into existence. 

“Come, mother has made dinner for all of us and you have yet to meet Cassian,” Rhys said enthusiastically, throwing an arm over my shoulder. 

From that day forward I found myself spending more and more time at Windhaven, in hopes of seeing Azriel. Sometimes I would see him for only a minute or so, other times he would be able to stay and have dinner with my mother, myself and of course Rhys and Cass. 

Those were always my favorite nights when he and I would share stolen glances across the table. Sometimes we might brush hands reaching for the carafe of wine, other times I would feel his boot brush my ankle under the table. Both of us danced around the other like flickering flames. 

It wasn’t until a few years later when all three of them conquered the blood rite that Azriel and I were finally able to admit our feelings for one another…

We stood behind one of the many rows of cabins, the sound of laughing warriors celebrating their victories or mourning their losses ran through the camp. Before he even spoke I knew why he asked me to meet him back here, I could feel the tension between us both. 

“I’m tired of acting like I don’t care about you. I’m tired of saying “nothing” whenever Rhys and Cassian ask me what’s on my mind. I’m tired of trying to hide that everytime I come back to camp that I’m looking for you and hoping I can see you for just one second. I’m tired of pretending I don’t love you,” Azriel confesses, caging me against the back wall of a cabin. 

“Azriel I-” I begin but he cuts me off.

“When we were on the mountain, there was a moment where there was a dagger to my throat and I thought I was going to die. I thought I would leave this world without telling you how much I loved you. If it wasn’t for Cassian that would’ve been the case. I won’t make the same mistakes twice,” he finished. 

“Azriel, I love you too,” I shuddered a sigh, aware of how close he was to me. 

The second the words left my mouth he was on me, large hands encircling my waist as I felt every inch of his body pressed against mine. His breath was hot on my face, contrasting the bitter cold of the night air.  

“Can I kiss you?” he breathed,  lips mere inches from mine. 

“Please,” I begged, but once again the word hung in the air for mere seconds before his mouth was on mine. 

Every part of it felt so right. His hands on my waist, my fingers in his hair, his lips on mine claiming me in a way that made my head spin. My arms pulled him as close as possible, needing to feel him, smell that scent of rain, leather and whatever intoxicating cologne he was wearing.  I was so drunk on him that I was shaken when I heard a hearty laugh ring out through the camp. 

I pulled back immediately realizing what was happening, “Oh my gods, we can’t do this here, my brother he-” 

“Shhh, shhh,” he cooed, brushing a stray hair behind my ear. “I talked to Rhys about it, I have his blessing to court you. He took it rather well, he actually seemed excited.” Azriel laughed, pressing a kiss to my forehead as he held me closer, his body blocking the wind from seeping into my clothes. 

“Oh Azriel,” I smile, kissing him hard as I feel him lifting me into the air, my head spinning just as fast as he spun me. 

We spent the rest of that night lying on a blanket in a field away from the world. The sound of distant celebrations making us laugh every now and then. At some point I could’ve sworn I heard Cassian singing a tale of an old drunk warrior.

I had tried to tell Azriel that he should join his brothers in their celebration but he insisted that he would much rather spend his few moments of peace with me. It was one of the best nights of my life. 

Our relationship was kept secret from everyone but Rhys and Cassian. Even my mother, who always accompanied me to Windhaven, was kept in the dark. No one with close ties to my father could know. That being said, it was hard for Azriel and I to find quiet moments together. 

Most of the time we met in the woods behind camp. Azriel would go away and bring me little trinkets, pretty rocks and feathers he found while in the mountains. In the spring he always came with a freshly picked bouquet of wildflowers. We always ended up making out and getting carried away, on more than one occasion I tried to take things further but he never let me. 

“I won’t have the first time I bed you in the woods. You’re a princess, you deserve a soft bed to be worshiped on.” 

Was what he always said to me. While I appreciated the sentiment, I couldn’t help but wish for more. 

It wasn’t until a few months later that I finally saw an opening. Father and mother were going to be at a meeting in the Winter Court, leaving Velaris in the care of Rhys. More importantly the cabin at Windhaven would be empty. That night was truly the best night of my life.

My back hits the warm sheets below me as Azriel looks at my bare body with hungry eyes. I had never been with a male before, my father and mother dead set on having me intact for whatever husband they shackled me to. But Azriel would be my husband, even if he wasn’t noble or the son of a High Lord he was mine, and I was his. I didn’t care how many rules I had to break to have him. 

“My beautiful, beautiful princess,” he murmurs, pressing kisses to my neck. 

His hands wander the expanse of my bare skin, both warming and leaving goosebumps wherever they trail. I arch my back into him, needing more, needing the very essence of him branded into me. 

“Azriel I need more,” I breathe tugging on the ends of his hair. 

He had already stripped me bare and kissed every square inch of me before falling to his knees and feasting on me like I was his last meal. I had read about such sinful touches before, dreamt about experiencing those sensations with him at night. None of it compared to the real thing. 

“Are you sure about this?” He asks me once more, brushing the hair from my face. 

“I’m sure, I want it to be you,” I nod running my hands through his hair again. 

The wild twinkle in his eyes was enough to make my toes curl as he smiled at me, “I promise to be gentle, to make you feel good,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to my lips. 

“I trust you Az,” I nod and his lips kick up again at his nickname. 

I feel him nudge and my entrance and my breath hitches as he inches himself inside. The stretch was painful, but the sting faded as he peppered kisses all over my face, whispering sweet nothings to me.

“Shh you’re doing so well princess…”

“You’re so beautiful…” 

“Can you feel me? Can you feel us?” 

“I love you…” 

I must’ve seen stars a million times that night. His gentle nature only made me fall deeper in love with him. It wasn’t the brutal fucking I had heard about in taverns and from drunk men at balls. He had taken his time, and been even more gentle than he had promised me. 

We made love a dozen times that night. Kissed and touched and worshiped until I fell asleep, bathed and warm in his arms.

The next morning was hard to face. Knowing we had to leave the cabin and act as if we didn’t spend the entire night exchanging souls, and tangled in eachothers arms. 

Az especially was on edge, so much so that when a younger male offered to tie my boot for me Azriel marched over and pushed him into the mud before pulling my foot onto his bent knee and tying it himself. 

Of course I yelled at him for being an Illyrian baby while Rhys and Cassian laughed and poked fun at their friend. Azriel just huffed and shot a warning glance at the poor male who had tried to tie my boot. 

From there on out we spent every possible moment together. I would tell my father that I was visiting friends in other courts just so I could see Azriel, which wasn’t often. As the war between humans and fae grew more iminanent I saw less and less of the shadowsinger. Our meetings became more fervent, and well…passionate. We became careless and it’s what ended up tearing him away from me for good.  

My back was pressed against the cabin wall, my hands pinned by my head as Azriel’s lips consumed mine. We had no longer than an hour together before he would be set back to scout for Hybern’s troops, but we intended to make the most of it. 

“I missed you,” he breathed into my neck. 

“I missed you too, two weeks is too long,” I murmured, breathing in his scent. He always left me one of his many shirts to sleep in but it never did compare to the real thing. 

“I don’t have much time, they’re sending me to the border to scout for Hybern’s troops,” he says in between kisses. 

Scarred hands drift over my waist and graze my bum as I feel him collecting fist fulls of my skirt. Before my dress can be pushed up much further than my knees the door to the cabin barges open, startling both of us. Azriel  placed his hand on one of the daggers strapped to his side, but not even he could defend me from who stepped through the threshold. 

“What the hells is going on here?” My father’s voice boomed from the doorway, the cold air from outside seeping into the place that was once our own. 

I peek out from behind Azriel’s shoulder to find not only my father but Lord Devlon standing before us. My fathers eyes locked on mine, and white hot fear seared my nerves. 

“What are you doing with my daughter?!” My father roared, his power slamming Azriel aside. 

“Father no!” I scream, clinging to his arm to interrupt his antics. 

Devlon screamed for backup to come as Azriel’s feet hit the floor again. The commotion outside beginning to stir. 

“My lord, I-” Azriel starts to explain but my father cuts him off. 

“You will not speak unless spoken to, you bastard born brute!” my father screams as Devlon’s men come to detain the Shadowsinger. 

“Father stop it! He didn’t take advantage of me, we’ve been seeing each other.” I plead with my father as tears start to well up in my eyes. 

“What?!” he scoffed, looking at me like I was a common whore. “You are promised to one of the sons of Spring and yet you soil yourself with filth of his kind?” 

“He’s not filth. He’s Rhys’ friend, and he’s good, brave and kind.” I beseech him as I hear Azriel struggle against the men who have him bound.

My father takes a deep breath and turns his gaze from me. The sound of his boots crossing the wooden floors to stand before Azriel are the loudest most impending sound I had ever heard. He stands before my shadowsinger before raising his hand and letting his fist collide with that beautiful face I had spent so long kissing. 

My gasp reverberates through the room but Azriel doesn’t make a sound, as if he’s challenging my father, or proving his worth. 

“What should we do with him?” my father asks, not taking his eyes off Az. 

“The boy has completed the rite, we can send him to one of the battalions on the border. Perhaps the trash will take itself out,” Devlon laughs. I had known that the Lord had a chip on his shoulder for my brother and his friends. But sending him to the slaughter? 

“Father please I love him!” I cry falling to my knees before my father, grasping his hand. I would never beg my father for anything, never fall to my knees for anyone. But for this I would… for Azriel, I would die on my knees. 

Despite my pleading my fathers gaze never falters from where it is fixed on Azriel. As if he’s trying to decide if he should slit his throat now or let him die on a battlefield. Azriel’s face remains steadfast and strong, showing no signs of weakness, like he will accept whatever punishment befalls him with the grace of a warrior.

“Send him,” he says resolutely before turning away. 

“NO PLEASE!” I beseech as my father hauls me to my feets again, but my knees are giving out under me. 

“It is done,” his gruff voice says in my ear as I watch them haul Azriel to his feet. “One day you’ll thank me.” 

I watch as they pull Azriel toward the door. Dragging him unnecessarily letting his wings drape across the ground. It was all happening so fast and could be the last time I ever saw his face.

“Let me say goodbye! Please let me say goodbye!” I shouted thrashing in my fathers grasp. Needing to touch Az one last time, needing one more moment with him. 

Azriel’s eyes were frantic as he heard my screams, as he watched my father use his strength to detain me.  

“Listen! Listen!” he called trying to get me to stop my frantic blubbering, the guards pulling him out the door. “You have to be strong princess. I love you , and I will find you again, if not in this life than in the next!” he shouts as he is hauled past the threshold of the cabin. 

“Azriel!” I scream, my voice cracking under the weight of my tears. 

“I love you!” he shouts again from the outside of the cabin. 

“I love you!” I call back to him, not knowing if I’ll ever get another chance to say it. 

That was six months ago...

Since then the war had gotten more and more bloody, and unavoidable. As far as I knew Azriel was still alive. I hadn’t seen him since the night he was ripped from my arms, a night I often had nightmares about. I sent him letters whenever possible and every so often I would get one back. 

I could tell he had tried to send more, as every date on the ones that did make it through were skewed. The most recent one, dated two months ago, burned a hole in the pocket of my dress. The folds were so worn from reading  that I feared they may fall apart the next time I opened it. 

My love, 

I am alive and well, though my battalion has suffered great losses. More and more Illyrians are sent to the frontlines every day to take the place of the dead. There are times I wonder if a wide eyed recruit will ever take my place…

At night I lie in bed and dream of you lying next to me, your warmth. Or the way your hair looks sprawled in swirling over the green grass when you’re under me. The sound of your voice calling my attention. The softness of your hands. The night you came undone for me in the cabin.

 My only consolation is that when I look up at the night sky. I know you are looking at those same stars. And if what I’m doing is keeping you safe. Keeping you fed and swathed in those blue silks that drive me crazy. Then I will sleep in this tent and fight alongside my peers happily. My love is safe and warm because of me. 

I love you, and I will return to you. 

Yours eternally, 

Azriel

I fold the tattered parchment with gloved hands and tuck it securely into the pocket of my dress. The shouts of men and the clash of swords outside my tent drown out the peace I had struggled to preserve. 

Hybern’s army had marched on Velaris and while the border hadn’t been breached, my father decided it was unsafe to leave my mother and I there. My mother was sent to a camp with my father where he would watch over her, I was sent to Rhys’ camp.

 The flap of the tent is thrown open, my brother charges in wearing his leathers, his hair disheveled and a letter in hand. 

“What is it?” I stand upon seeing the worry gracing his face.    

Armies had been marching upon another camp a few miles away. If they had breached the encampment that would mean they were coming for us next. We would have just minutes to evacuate and find a safe place. 

“The men were able to hold the front lines,” he says, setting down his swords with a sigh that told me that there was still news to be revealed. 

“Then what is it?” I asked quietly, unsure of whether or not I wanted to know the truth he had to say. 

Violet eyes met my own, in them, a sorrow and worry I had not yet seen from my brother, “It’s Azriel.” he said. 

My heart stopped and my world quieted as I perched myself on a nearby chair, not trusting my legs to keep me upright. Not when my heart lay in the balance, the very reason I was alive.

“He was injured, severely. He may be dying y/n.” he said sadly, coming to stand before me. 

May be dying. Which meant he was alive, which meant there was still a chance. 

My head snaps up to him, a new fire in my gaze that no one had seen in six months. 

“Take me to him,” I ordered my brother as I stood to collect my cloak. 

“You’re asking me to take you, my sister, to the front lines. I won’t do it.” Rhys shakes his head. 

“I am going with or without you Rhys,” I say firmly, wrapping my cloak around my shoulders. 

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair before picking his swords up again and strapping them to his sides. With my hood over my head and my brother's hand at my back we made our way out into the night. Once we reached the wards at the edge of the camp we winnowed to the encampment near the frontlines.  

Immediately as we walked through the rows of tents and campfires I could tell that these males had seen hell. All of them looked significantly worse than the males at the camp we had just come from. Most of them were caked in mud and blood, some were drunk on whatever filled their cups. All of them were loud and rowdy and most likely celebrating their last nights in this life.  

Rhys led me through the camp, until we arrived at a lonely tent in the center. It was large and from the outside I could practically smell Azriel. I bolted for the entrance and threw open the flaps, my heart racing, unsure if I would find him alive or dead. 

But there he was, breathing. Leaning against the back of his bed with a large bandage over his left thigh. He was awake and refreshingly himself, as if nothing was truly wrong and most importantly he was alive. 

I run to him throwing my arms around his neck, “Oh Azriel,” I coo breathing him in. 

“Y/n?” he says, his mind clearly still foggy. 

I pull back to cup his face, whoever had healed him has cleaned him up, the small cut above his eyebrow already starting to heal, “Az,” I breathe. 

His hand comes to cup my face, “How are you here? This can’t be real,” his eyes search my face as if to try and wake up from a dream. 

I place a kiss on his lips, “I’m real, I’m here,” I assure him as tears spill from my eyes. “They told me you were dying.” 

“I am well, it was a deep cut but the healers say I’ll be okay,” he assures me as his eyes continue to take me in. 

I let my eyes do the same, taking in every cut and bruise on him, even the patched holes in his wings no doubt from arrows piercing the beautiful, leathery flesh. 

“Faebane?” Rhys’ voice croons from the entrance of the tent as he watches us, it seemed that his nerves were also settled upon seeing Azriel well. 

“Yep,” Azriel said nonchalantly, but his eyes told the truth of how happy he was to see my brother, or maybe how relieved. 

“Hurts like a bitch doesn’t it?” Rhys chuckles stepping into the tent and closing the flap. 

My eyes widened at his causal tone, “How can you both be so docile about this? He could’ve died.” I exclaim, looking Azriel over once more in case I missed any lingering wounds. 

Azriel's chest rumbles with a chuckle, “Shhh my love. Everything will be alright.” he says, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “But what are you doing here? It isn’t safe.”

“The border of Velaris is almost breached,” Rhys started from behind me. “We couldn’t leave her and my mother there, it wasn’t safe.” 

“Mother is with father and I’m with Rhys. We found out you were injured and just a camp away and I asked him to take me to you.” I continue Rhys’ explanation. 

Azriel cuts Rhys a somewhat harsh look as if to say ‘why the hell would you take her somewhere so dangerous?’

“You needed to see each other,” Rhys explains further. “If anything were to happen to you and I didn’t let you two say goodbye, I would never forgive myself.”

Azriel’s shoulders softened in understanding before turning to me once more, “You have to go princess,” he said, eyes full of sorrow.

My breath hitches as I stumble back a little from where I sit next to him, “What? No, I won’t leave you,” I say resolutely.

He cups the side of my face, “Please it’s not safe here,” he eyes pleading as his voice falters. 

I go to argue but Rhys speaks up behind me, “He’s right y/n, It’s the most vulnerable camp we have.” my brother says, his words solemn. 

“I don’t care!” I exclaim turning back to brush Azriel’s hair from his face. “I’m not leaving him Rhys, we will be okay.”

Azriel’s eyes flare, “Look at me!” he shouts gesturing to his leg. “I can’t protect you here,” his voice is laced with frustration, not at my unwillingness to leave, but his inability to do the one thing he swore to always do, protect me. 

“Then I’ll die here with you!” I proclaim, fiercely. “If you cannot protect me, then you cannot protect yourself. Please Azriel, please don’t make me leave.” I cry lying down on his chest, gripping the leathers there, as if it might keep my brother from ripping me away.

“I can’t,” I sob as my words get caught in my throat. “I can’t lose you again I-” 

“Shhh,” Azriel coos, his hand stroking my hair as he pulls me into his chest. “You’ll stay here in my arms.” he assures me and I’m finally able to relax into his touch.  

“Y/n, I can’t stay here. I need to go back to my own troops and prepare them for tomorrow,” my brother said softly, not trying to persuade me to return, but to inform me of the increasing danger.

“I understand,” I say standing to say goodbye.

“I’ll come back for you tomorrow morning, before the troops march,” he said, his words tinged with sorrow. 

I take in the sight of my brother looking defeated, a look I so rarely saw on him. It broke me to realize I might never see him after this. If the enemy marched on this camp there would be no one to keep Azriel and I from the slaughter given his injury. 

“Okay,” I whispered, my voice cracking as I threw myself onto my beloved brother. 

Rhys said his goodbyes to Azriel, both of them not wanting to get too deep, say too much, for fear of manifesting defeat on both sides. When my brother exited the tent I took my spot next to Azriel on his large cot and waited for either death or the sunrise.  

Later in the night, the raucous from outside got louder and louder disturbing my sleep. When I raised my head from Azriel’s chest I found that his eyes remained open and fixed on the tent entrance, like he was ready to challenge anyone who dared to walk through despite his inability to walk. 

“Hey,” I smiled weakly, my voice shaky from sleep. 

“Hey,” he smiled back, pushing a hair from my face. 

I moved back the blanket to check the gash in his thigh. Lifting the white bandage, I could see that it was almost completely soaked through, if I left it that way he would never get better.

I throw my legs over the edge of the cot and search for my discarded cloak, “You need fresh bandages or you’ll get an infection. I’m going to go get you some.” 

“Y/n  don’t you dare leave this tent. There are war bound men out there looking for one last lay before they leave this world,” he pleads, reaching for my hand that’s just out of reach. 

“I’ll only be a moment Az,” I assure him before raising my hood and slipping out of the tent. 

I can hear him shouting my name as I exit, but his protests are quickly drowned out by the sound of drunken men. Azriel was right, these men were drunk and not in their right mind. But if that wound got infected and he died I would never forgive myself. So I kept my head down walking towards the medic tent I passed on my way in, ignoring rambunctious cheers and stumbling men. 

The light of the medic tent comes into view and relief washes over me swiftly before the rug is pulled out from under me and I run smack into a broad chest.

“Well what do we have here?” laughs a drunken male. I can smell the sweat and alcohol on him. 

“Looks like we have a little birdy who lost her way,” laughs a male from my right.

My feet take two steps back before bumping into another mountain of a male. His hand comes up to rip the hood off my head, if all three of them recognized me as their princess they didn’t show it. My pulse began to race as I frantically looked for a way out of this hell. 

“What’s a beauty like you doing out here?” crooned the male behind me.

I put on a stoic face, “I’m leaving if you’ll excuse me,” I state, but before I can even take my first step I feel large hands grasping my shoulders holding me in place.

“Whoever bought you for the night must’ve paid a pretty penny,” jested the man to my right. 

“What do ya say darlin? Are you gonna give these brave men a proper send off?” the man behind me says low into my ear as he grabs me around the middle, plucking me off the ground.

I start kicking trying to break free, my screamed muffled by his hand over my mouth. All the trashing in the world wasn’t enough to break their hold as the other two males descended upon me, as if they were willing to take me right there in the middle of camp. 

“I’ll thank you to take your hands off my princess,” drawled a voice from behind me. 

The eyes of the three men surrounding me went wide at whatever figure stood behind us, all three of them scurrying off to gods knew where. I turn slowly to face whoever my rescuer was, and I’m met with a mountain of sheer muscle and bright red siphons. 

“Cassian!” I cried running to throw my arms around the burly warrior, I hadn’t seen him in over a year. 

He hugs me tighter, the kind of bear hug only he could provide. It was clear to me that he missed me just as much as I had missed him. When he releases me he bends down to cup my face, and wipe away the tears I didn’t know had fallen. 

“Princess, what are you doing here? Where is your brother?” he asked, brows furrowed.

“Rhys brought me here but he’s gone now, he’s gone back to his own camp but he’ll be back tomorrow,” I say as Cassian continues to wipe away the fresh tears, this time tears of happiness and not fear.

Cassain stands up as if to assess for danger before tossing an arm around me, “Stay with me, I’ll keep you safe. Where is Azriel? I was told he was injured,” he asks, remaining vigilant.  

“He’s okay, I was just getting him fresh bandages,” I report, pointing Cassian towards the medic tent. 

“He let you leave his tent?!” he balks corralling me inside the tent. 

“Uh, no. Not really,” I laugh nervously. 

He rolls his eyes and grabs a few armfuls of bandages before shoving them into my arms. We weave through drunken men who do a good job of staying at least three feet away from me, no doubt seeing The Lord of Bloodshed trailing me. 

I throw open the flap of Azriel’s tent, running to his side at once. 

“Oh thank the mother,” he sighs in relief upon seeing me. 

I laugh at his fussing and begin dressing his wound, “Look who I found,” I say nodding my head to where Cassian stands behind me.

“I believe I found you,” Cassian corrects me, sheer amusement in his voice. 

“Cass!” Azriel beams as his brother gives him an affectionate smack on the shoulder. 

“Brother you look a little worse for wear,” Cassian chuckles looking at the wound I was currently cleaning.

“I’ve been better,” Azriel winces as I wrap the wound in a clean bandage.

“I heard what happened and came as soon as I could. Ran right into your princess here, causing trouble as usual,” the warrior chortles beside me making me roll my eyes. 

“What?” Azriel asked, more alert than he previously was. 

“You were right, the men out there are assholes,” I scoff, tying off the fresh bandage. 

“Did they touch you?” he inquired, his eyes ablaze. 

“Az it’s fine Cass was there,” I assure him placing a hand on his shoulder feeling the palpable tension there, like he was ready to pounce.

“Y/n did they put their hands on you?” he asks again, this time more unyielding than before. 

“Yes but look at me, I'm fine!” I say with an exasperated sigh. 

Azriel’s eyes flit to Cassian as he extends his hand to his brother, like he needs support. 

“Cassian help me up,” he orders, already scooting to the edge of the cot.

“Azriel don’t you dare!” I shout smacking his chest. “Enough with the territorial, Illyrian nonsense! You’re injured, you’re going to get yourself killed!” 

The shadowsingers body slumps back into bed in defeat with a huff, clearly upset he couldn’t pummel the shit out of a couple of lowly males who weren’t worth it in the first place. 

Cassian’s chuckle reverberated through the tent, “Good to see you two picking up right where you left off,” he joked, remembering all the times we had similar quarrels. 

It was the early hours of morning, and while the sun was still hiding behind the mountains, it would be rearing its ugly head soon enough. The partying and cheering from outside the tent had died down. Men either passing out drunk or choosing sleep over thoughts of what might happen tomorrow.

Cassian snored softly in the corner of the tent in the chair he took up. He had elected to stay behind and watch over us at Azriel’s request and I was smart enough to not argue with two Illyrians. 

I layed on Azriel’s chest, waiting for sleep to claim me but it never came. Sleep didn’t find Azriel as well, his hand twirling through the strands of my unbound hair as we sat in silence. 

“You know what kept me alive out there on that battlefield after I was injured?” Azriel whispered into the night. 

“A healer that I’ll be paying a very handsome bonus to?” I laugh squeezing my arms around him a bit.

“No, you” he said seriously rubbing my shoulder 

“Me?” I gawk, sitting up so I could look him in the eye. 

“Yes, you,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to my forehead.  “When I was downed they thought I was dead. Horses and men clamored over me. It was all so loud, such a blur but then I closed my eyes and there you were.” he said looking at the canopy of the tent, as if remembering the event.

“It was a memory from the first time I saw you, before I even knew who you were. You were standing in the snow waiting for Rhys and your mother and there was snow all over your hair. It was the first snow of the year and you were entranced just like you always are.” He chuckles, pulling me closer. “But I knew then and there that I had to open my eyes. Had to get up. Even if it was just to see your face one more time, kiss your lips, tell you I love you. I woke up in this tent reeling from it. I could’ve sworn you were here, in the vision I felt your touch. And then hours later you storm in here with your fussing and worrying.” he says. 

I feel a tear roll down my face as I cup his face, pulling his gaze from the canopy to me. I pulled his letter out of my dress pocket, the paper flopping about from how many times it had been folded and unfolded. 

“I kept this letter with me every single day. I must’ve read it a hundred times, hells I might even have it memorized.” I laugh, shaking the paper in my hands. “I never once gave up hope that I would see you again. No matter what happens after tonight I still won’t give up hope. I know I’ll find you again.”

Azriel chuckles, pressing his forehead to mine, “I’d crawl home to you if I had to princess,” he says resolutely. 

I wake the next morning to the sound of men moving about outside the tent and an empty cot. The covers before me are still disheveled from where Azriel slipped out from under me. I threw the blankets off the bed and pulled my cloak from where I set it last night, fastening it to my shoulders. 

When I toss open the flaps of the tent I’m momentarily blinded by the bright sun before the sight of men collecting their weapons and armor come into focus. My eyes darted frantically for a trace of Azriel, surely he couldn’t have gone far, surely he wasn’t going to fight today. 

“Azriel!” I call out roaming around looking for a flash of a blue siphon. 

Heavy footsteps come up behind me grabbing my arm and I turn around to be met with Cassian. I looked back to the tent and realized he had been keeping watch outside. 

“Cass, where is he?” I ask him, but all I’m met with is a heavy gaze from Cassian. 

“Y/n?” calls a voice from behind me and I turn to see my father, mother and brother walking towards us.  

My mother runs over to me taking me into her arms and holding me close. It was clear to me that they had found Rhys and instantly questioned why I wasn’t under his care. 

“Thank the gods,” my mother breathed taking in my unharmed appearance. 

“You smell like that Illyrian brute,” my father sneered and I knew right away he ment Azriel. 

“He could have been dying,” I reply with equal venom, my gaze narrowing at the man who went through such great lengths to keep us apart. 

“Of course, why do you think I sent him to the frontlines again today?” he scoffed, already turning his attention to the hordes of men preparing for battle. 

My blood turned to ice in my veins and my heart plummeted. 

“What?” I cried looking at Rhys who wore a solemn look on his face. “Rhys, you knew?” 

My brother lets out a shaky breath, “I knew before we even arrived last night. When he tried to get you to leave I used daemati to tell him he was being sent to the front lines. He knew it would be the last time he ever saw you.” he confessed.

He knew. 

Haste clouds my mind and I turn to run in the same direction with the rest of the men, my father and brother joining their ranks without another word. My mother catches me around the shoulders and pulls me into her embrace as my knees hit the muddy ground beneath us. 

“No, no, no, no no!” I scream trying to run to the front, as if I could keep Azriel from death myself. 

“The battle is not yet over sweetheart, he may still live,” My mother coos stroking my hair. 

“He was injured mother,” my words come out as sobs as I cling to her cloak. 

“Have faith,” she pleads, kneeling on the ground with me, trying to calm me as best she can. 

“Azriel,” I cry. “My Azriel.” 

I give into my mothers embrace and after a while she ushers me toward a tent. She wipes my face with a cool towel trying to calm my swollen eyes, but it’s no use. Every war cry, and ear rupturing blast feels like the one that takes Azriel’s life. Each one sends me back into a mess of shallow breaths and tears. 

Only when the battle cries fade, and the blasts of siphons and raw power cease do my tears stop. Soldiers and Illyrains come filtering back to the camp, some whole, some being carried by their peers. My brother and Cassain are the first to find us. Rhys was unharmed, but Cassian was wheeled to a healer immediately. Thankfully, she claimed he would be alright.

I took to the masses, weaving through men making their way back occasionally running into some as my eyes were focused on the skies. Searching amongst the hordes of Illyrians flying in. If Azriel was anywhere it would be there. 

“Azriel!” I shouted, my voice going hoarse from the screaming I had been doing. 

More and more Illyrians fly overhead, not one of them resembling my Azriel. If he was amongst them he would see me standing out like a sore thumb amongst the rabble, going against the grain of everyone before me.   

“AZRIEL!” I call out even louder, cupping my hands around my mouth as if it will help. 

“Y/N!” 

I hear my voice being called, not from the skies, but from the ground. My eyes snap to the crowds before me before I see a pair of wings over the top of a million heads. 

“AZRIEL?!” I call out moving in the direction of the voice that called to me. 

Then I see him, my Azriel. The wound on his leg is split open and his wings are pierced with a dozen arrows which explains his inability to fly. But he’s there, and he’s whole, and alive.

“Y/n!” he calls out to me again. 

I pick up the skirts of my dress running to him, my shoulders bumping into all the men I weave around. I jump into his arms feeling him pick me up, pulling me impossibly close. 

“Oh Az,” I breathe running a hand through his hair as my feet hit the ground again, his eyes assessing me for any injury. “My love, I thought I would never see you again,” I cried. 

His thumbs wipe away my tears as he cups my face, “Death, nor a thousand evil men could keep me from you,” he smiled before pulling me into his chest. 

As we hold each other, the chaos around us fades into the background. For a moment, time stands still, and all that matters is that we are together. He was here, in my arms and he was alive. Both of us were, and there were many more years ahead of us. Many, many more years. 

Epilogue: third person pov

Rhysand and Feyre stood in the living room of the townhouse. The world outside was near silent as Velaris slept, having spent the day celebrating solstice. Even the faelights in the home seemed to have dimmed. Members of the Inner Circle worked to clean the dessert plates off the table where they had their magnificent feast.

“And that’s their story,” Rhys finished saying to his mate, rubbing her shoulder as they continued to admire the scene before them.

On the large couch before them y/n was asleep on top of an even sleepier Azriel, his arms, legs and wings all but draping off the edges just to keep her comfortable. 

When Feyre stumbled into the adorable scene it had occurred to her that she had never heard the story of how the two came to be. Rhysand was more than happy to tell her the tale of forbidden love and near death experiences. 

“They’ve been through so much,” Feyre said, leaning into Rhysand’s touch. 

“They truly have,” Rhys nods, pressing a kiss to his mate's temple. “But now they get to eat too much turkey every solstice and skip out on dish duty so I think it worked out okay.” he chuckles. 

Feyre slaps him on the chest playfully but laughs right along with them watching as the pair lounges on the couch, mouths open and completely and utterly relaxed. The High Lord and Lady turn from the living room to rejoin the rest of their family in the kitchen. There would be time to make fun of the princess and the shadowsinger tomorrow. 

They had all the time in the world.

my masterlist

Permanent Taglist: @fides25, @dissociated-always @crystalferret202 , @kennedy-brooke , @sunshineangel-reads , @lilah-asteria , @evergreenlark , @cheneyq

Taglist: @andreperez11

[harryslittlefreakk]

too sweet

summary: essentially porn with little plot… or .. when her boss decides that letting her go is in her best interests, y/n decides to show him exactly what he’s missing out on.

warnings: swearing, light angst, smut (rough sex, oral m receiving, slight domrry) also don’t ask me how he can receive oral if she’s on the desk ?? it just happened

wordcount: 2.8k

a/n: much like the rest of the world, i can’t stop listening to too sweet :) and to me it has ceorry written all over it!! as always please let me know if you enjoyed!! I really want to start trying my hand at more tropes and aus so please let me know if there’s anything you’d like to see!!!

my masterlist & taglist can be found here 💖 love you

“Mr Styles, I-”

“I promise you, sweetheart. It’s not a set back, it’s just-”

“I can show you, please.” You were begging and pleading like this job hadn’t been draining the life out of you for months now. You knew that Harry was right, but you didn’t want to, couldn’t, accept another failure.

“Listen.” His words were stern but his face was soft as he reached over the table, placing a ringed hand over the top of yours. “It’s not personal. To succeed in this business you need grit. No one ever got to the top without a hint of cunt, me included.”

He held up his free hand as you opened your mouth, silencing you before the words had even begun to form. “You are special. You don’t have that mean streak, and I refuse to be the one to manufacture it within you. I will find a spot in this company for you, shift people around if I have to. You need to find a role that grows with you, not one that will tear you down.”

You nodded slowly, speechless as his words sunk in. How can you be fired for being too nice? Not cunty enough? You tugged your hand away from Harry’s as if it burned you, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “Is this because of the cakes?” you asked, cringing as you thought back to all the nice things you’d done around the office. If you weren’t supposed to be nice, why not put that in the job description? Under requirements: IT skills, maths degree, asshole.

Harry laughed, leaning back in his seat as he grinned at you. “In a way, I guess it is because of the cakes. Just trust me, okay? This is for the best. I’d never forgive myself if I turned you into a monster. Finance is a cut-throat world,” he finished, staring out into the office.

When he didn’t say anymore, you stood up, smoothing out your skirt across your thighs. “Thank you for your time, Mr Styles. I’ll wrap up my work and send it over to you, I assume you won’t need me past lunch?”

“No, that’s all. Thank you y/n,” he smiled, nodding as you turned away.

“Dick,” you muttered, pulling the door closed behind you. You could hardly rant and rave to his face, especially after repeatedly hearing how nice you are, but you were inwardly seething. Treating your colleagues like shit would be a good reason to get fired, treating your clients like shit would be a better one. But to be too kind? You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make sense to you, but it was still downright unfair. You had grit, and you’d show him.

You sat silent and dignified until the office left for lunch, wrapping up with the clients you had and sending the remainder to Harry. No one stayed past lunch on a Friday, so the second the last stragglers left, you rushed to the Harry’s office door. You had no game plan, except for bursting in and proving him wrong. Only, as soon as you were about to reach out and knock on the door, it swung open. “Y/n.”

“I have grit,” you told him, slipping past him into his office. It was all you could think to say.

“I-”

“Close the door please,” you motioned your head towards Harry’s seat, signalling for him to sit back down. He was frozen in the doorway, an amused smirk dancing on his lips. “I have grit,” you repeated, gaze following Harry as he pushed the door closed and circled back around his desk.

“You said that,” he sniggered, loosening his grey tie as he watched you pace around the office. “If I didn’t have grit,” you started, willing something entirely different to come out your mouth, knowing that it wouldn’t. “I wouldn’t mention that I know you spent the entire Christmas party in here with Stephanie. With the door locked. And I wouldn’t mention that I’ve noticed the way you look at me,” you finished, eyes glued to the skyline behind Harry’s head.

His jaw clenched a few times, his hands flexing against the wood of his desk. “Good point,” he murmured, his expression totally unreadable as he looked at you. “Come and sit down.”

You padded over tentatively, fingertips gripping the back of the chair as you pulled it out in front of you.

“Not there.” He pushed his chair back, tapping on the wood between his hands.

“What are you-” you started, gaze darting between Harry’s icy stare and your feet, dragging themselves the short distance to Harry’s desk.

“You came here to show me you have grit, no?”

You nodded, heart in your throat as you perched on the edge. “How were you going to show me?” he continued, his eyes unrelenting in their pursuit of weakness within you.

You knew what your game-plan was, but you weren’t expecting Harry to catch on and call your bluff. His voice was muffled by the blood pounding in your ears, your jaw tight as you tried to remain composed under his watch. He leaned back when you stayed silent, one eyebrow raising slightly as his gaze raked down your body. “What were you going to do, y/n?” he asked again, hooking one foot around yours to pull your legs open.

A tiny gasp falling from your lips was the only sound you made, the tension hanging heavy in the air. Harry reached forward, pushing your skirt up around your hips until he saw a flash of your red panties. “I think,” he started, fingertips trailing down your exposed thigh. “You were going to show me that sweet little cunt, show me what it can do. Am I right?” he continued, satisfied as he looked at the trail of goosebumps his touch had left.

You nodded again, eyes fluttering closed in a bid to expel some of the anticipation creeping through your core. “Use your words,” Harry muttered, tugging on your thighs until you landed in his lap.

You opened your eyes, inches away from his face as he splayed a hand across your lower back. “Yes, sir,” you whispered, a shiver running down your spine. His cock twitched beneath your core at the name, his eyes dark.

“From this moment onwards, anything that happens within these walls is between us. Do you understand?” Harry asked, his voice husky and yet somehow softer than you’d ever heard it.

“Of course,” you replied, hoping your eyes communicated the sincerity that your words couldn’t.

Harry placed his free hand on your hip, pushing you down slightly until his firm cock bulged against your entrance.

“What are you and your grit going to do about this then?” he smirked, his fingertips digging into your clothed flesh. You almost choked on the lump in your throat, eyes bulging as you shifted on top of Harry’s girth. His stare was like a challenge, daring you to retreat or prove yourself wrong. But you’d gone too far to back down now, so you swallowed the first taste of tomorrow’s regret and locked your eyes on his, rolling your hips across his lap before stepping off of him.

You answered his questioning frown by sitting back on your heels between his legs, reaching forward with a tentative hand to palm him over his trousers. Harry let you feel him for a second, before swatting you away to unzip his slacks and push them down his thighs.

From the moment you’d first met him, you knew Harry was objectively hot. He was attractive in the same way a friend’s dad would be - enough to appreciate but too out of reach for it to be any more than that. But now as you stared up at him, the strained fabric of his Calvins tight against the cock he was about to fuck your face with, he was the most attractive man you’d ever seen.

Harry tugged the waistband of his boxers down, only enough to set his length free, grabbing hold of your wrist. “No one is to know,” he growled, waiting for your confirmation before guiding your hand to his length.

“No one, sir,” you murmured, pressing your parted lips to the side of his shaft as he pulled his hand away.

“Good girl,” was all Harry could manage as your pout wrapped around his tip, your tongue swirling across the nerves. You let your saliva drip down him, rubbing it across his skin with an unsteady yet firm hand. It felt dirty, transactional almost as if he might let you stay if you performed well enough for him. But you knew you didn’t want that, and he wouldn’t want you working for him once you’d milked his cock for all it had.

You could feel his eyes on you as you pulled your mouth away from him, your hand still working up and down his length. Your gaze darted up to meet his, the hunger in his eyes unlike anything you’d seen before. He was almost animalistic, something feral juxtaposed in his features as he watched you silently, frozen in place. You willed yourself to look away as you bent further down, poking out your tongue to lick a wet line along his cock, but you couldn’t focus on anything but Harry’s face. Your arousal was pooling between your thighs, a breathy moan tumbling past your lips as you took more of him into your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat.

You couldn’t take him all, not even close, so your hands worked at the rest of him, one wrapped around his base while the other found his balls, squeezing them gently as your cheeks tightened against his girth. Harry let out a small groan, his first display of your mouth having any effect on him, his hand instinctively tangling into your hair as if he’d been here with you before.

He used his grip to hold your head steady, directing your mouth up and down his length. His cock was knocking into the back of your throat, your whimpers mixing with groans and splutters, until he stopped suddenly, pushing back in his chair until there was distance between the two of you. You were too much, the sight of your pout wrapped around his tip too much for him to take.

“Up,” he demanded, placing a protective hand over the edge of the desk to save you knocking your head. You pulled yourself up to meet where he stood, resting against the desk to take the weight off your shaky legs. Harry’s thumb swiped across your jaw, his eyes fixed on your face. Your swollen red pout, your heavy-lidded eyes, mascara gathered under your lower lashes. You looked a fucking mess, and he was loving every second of it.

He bent down slightly, fingers slipping under your skirt to hook around the side of your panties. He pulled them off, helping you to raise both feet, before stuffing them into the pocket of his slacks.

“Turn around,” Harry murmured, nodding as you obeyed him. His fingers trailed across your hips, pushing on your back until your stomach hit the wood of his desk.

You let out a whimper as he pressed a hand between your legs, his fingertips dancing across your skin until they met your entrance, hot and sticky and so ready for him. Harry swiped a finger through your folds, a tiny chuckle the only sound he made as you squirmed, his free hand splayed across your back, keeping you pinned down. “Got yourself all worked up f’me, huh?” he drawled, voice so low it sent shivers down your spine.

You nodded, too overcome with need to form any words. Harry pressed into you, collecting your juices on his tip before pushing himself inside, eyes screwed shut as your walls constricted around him. Your whimpers turned into a string of expletives, his girth too much for you to take. “Tight little cunt, all for me,” Harry whispered, stilling inside of you now that he’d bottomed out. His hands were digging into the skin of your ass, your curves engulfing the base of his cock. “All for you,” you panted, desperately trying to find something to grip on to, something to steady you while Harry tore you in two.

He pulled back, mouth hanging open as he watched himself emerge from your pretty pink lips, his length already smothered in your juices. He wanted to resist, to be gentle with you, but your cunt was begging him to destroy it, to instil in it some of the grit you claimed to have. It was between his head and his heart, yet Harry could only think with his cock.

He slammed into you hard, your hips knocking against the edge of his desk, the contents of his drawers rattling as he drilled into you. His office was far from sound proof, and any stragglers left in the building would hear nothing but your cries and screams as he rocked his hips into yours, his cock hitting every inch of you. But that only spurred him on further, the thrill of your pleasure coursing through his veins. He landed a blow on the curve of your ass, a satisfied grin spreading across his face as he watched the red hand print appear, the skin bouncing with every snap of his hips.

“Fuck, Har- fuck,” you cried, breathless as Harry slammed his hips into yours before pulling out completely. He grabbed at your waist, tugging at your dress for you to turn over. “I need to see you,” he growled, eyes completely darkened when you turned to face him. You’d never seen him with as much as a hair out of place, yet now he looked possessed by his own lust. He was messy, curls hanging down his forehead and a blush to his cheeks, shirt half unbuttoned.

He circled around your clit as you looked him up and down, eyes never leaving yours. “Taking me like a fucking good girl,” he whispered, pushing back into your entrance.

“I can’t- please, sir,” you whimpered, chest heaving as he continued fucking into you with the same ferocity as before. Between his cock, his fingers, his face, you were coming apart. He was twitching inside of you with every moan that left your lips, his own climax creeping up as quickly as yours was. He stilled for a moment, his fingers never ceasing as they rubbed pleasure into your nerves. “You can, and you will. Come for me,” he urged, grabbing a hold of your waist as he thrust into you, each snap of his hips pushing you closer to the edge.

“I’m, fuck-” was all you could cry, your mouth falling open as you shook and writhed under him, his words coaxing out an orgasm stronger than you’d ever imagined. Your eyes brimming with tears, brows knitted as you cried out, hips bucking into the palm of his hand. Harry slowed down slightly, seconds between each thrust as he worked you through your high, your cream coating every inch of his thick cock.

The second you stilled, he slipped his hand under your back, pulling you up to sit as he pulled his cock from you. Harry dragged a thumb across your bottom lip, smirking at your tiny pout as you felt the emptiness in your cunt. “Open up,” he whispered, replacing his thumb with his tip, pushing it past your lips as he worked his hand up and down the length.

You took him into your mouth for the second time that day, the mix of your juices like sweet nectar against your tongue. You were dizzy from your climax, every inch of your core on fire from the sheer brutality of his cock, your walls still pulsing. Harry was grunting and groaning, even his moans husky as he twitched between your lips, his jaw tensing as he came undone, hot cum shooting to the back of your throat.

He held a hand to the nape of your neck, grounding himself as he bucked into you, filling you up at a much faster rate than you could swallow. “Good girl,” he cooed, letting you lick every last drop of cum from his tip before he pulled away, sinking down into his chair as his hand dropped down your body.

You leaned your arms back against the desk, eyes glued to the ceiling as you tried to catch your breath, the stinging of your entrance doubled by the sudden lack of touch.

Harry kept watching you, still under your spell, unable to will his eyes away as you panted. “You have grit,” he whispered, a glimmer in his eye. “But I can’t let you work for me after that.”

“As long as you know I have grit, Mr. Styles,” you smirked, rolling your head down to look at him again.

taglist: @angeldavis777 @softestqueeen @jerseygirlinca @palmettogal508 @drewsephrry @vonnexann @austiebuttbutt @indigo24hughes @peterparkerbae @im-an-overthinker @daphnesutton @loveableidioticweirdo @harryshotpocket @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swag13r @ashleighsss @tswiftsgf @chesthairrry @nikkisimps @hannah9921 @lilfreakjez @prettygurl-2009 @s-h-e-l-b-e-e @indierockgirrl @cicicavill7 @harrystylesluverrrr @cohnfusedarling @ell0ra-br3kk3r @stylesfever

[nervousyoungtwinfantasydog]

ouch

[waitimcomingtoo]

He’ll Have To Get In Line

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader

Synopsis: Peeta amps up the star crossed lovers act when Finnick takes a liking to you

Masterlist

As you waited to get into your chariot for your second tribute parade, you calmed your nerves by petting the horses. You kept your head down with a plan to stay away from the other tributes until you knew what you were dealing with. Your plan was tossed aside when one of the tributes, Finnick Odair, saw you by yourself and approached you. He was noisily munching on a sugar cube as he walked up to you, making you look up. You noticed his bare chest, and then perfect chiseled face before gulping.

“Sugar?” He asked you.

“What?” You asked, too distracted by his lack of apparel that you weren’t listening.

“Sugar cubes. They’re good.” He explained as he held up a sugar cube.

“No thank you. I think those are for the horses.”

“Eh, who cares. They get enough of them. And they’re not the ones headed into a death game, right?” He chuckled and popped another into his mouth. You weren’t expected him to make light of your situation since no one else ever really did so you faked a laugh along with him.

“That was a fake laugh. But I’ll forgive you since we’re friends now.” Finnick said as he popped another sugar cube into his mouth. You felt embarrassed that he caught on to your inauthenticity but he didn’t sound upset. He had a way of being very blunt in what he said but charismatic with how he said it.

“We’re friends? We don’t know anything about each other.” You pointed out.

“But we share two things in common. We won our games and we’re painfully good looking. Now, come on. Try a cube. They won’t have these in the area.” He said and held one out to you. You didn’t comment on him calling you good looking but took the cube from the palm of his hand with a coy smile.

“Taste it. It’s sweet.” He said with a debonair grin. You looked him in the eyes and bit into the cube, tasting a sweetness you had never known.

“You like it, don’t you?” He said and already knew your answer.

“I might.” You admitted as you popped the rest of the cube in your mouth.

“I knew you would. I saw you standing over here with the horses and said to myself, that girl likes it sweet. I just knew I had to offer you one.”

“Well, thank you. You were right.” You smiled and realized you had been smiling like a child the entire conversation so far. You quickly dropped your face and covered your mouth self consciously, but Finnick had already moved on.

“Oh my. Forgive me, I didn’t notice what you were wearing until now. Thats certainly a get up.” Finnick smirked as he looked you up and down.

“It’s for my district.” You said in embarrassment and covered yourself with your arms. The clothes Cinna had dressed you in were beautiful but far from something you’d pick for yourself.

“I know. I like it.” Finnick replied with a wink. You felt your breath hitch in your throat and the effortless charm he was just exuded and let your arms drop to your sides.

“Oh. Well, thank you. Cinna designed it.” You told him. The way Finnick was looking at you in the moment made you forget most things you knew, but nothing could make you forget to give credit to Cinna for his remarkable abilities.

“I should’ve known Cinna was behind this. He’s great. But it doesn’t matter what you’re wearing. No one’s gonna be looking at your outfit.” Finnick shrugged and looked you up and down again.

“What makes you say that?” You frowned. Finnick smirked a little as he reached towards your face and tilted your chin up with his thumb. You sucked in a sharp breath and stayed perfectly still as he gazed into your eyes.

“That pretty face is gonna get all the attention. Who could look away?” Finnick asked.

“Pretty?” You asked in almost a whisper.

“Extremely. But I’m assuming there’s another name I can call you by. I’m Finnick. And you?”

“Y/n.”

“And so you are. Lovely name for a lovely girl.” Finnick said and shot you another wink.

You smiled at him and momentarily forgot all about the parade and your nerves. You were so focused on the handsome boy in front of you that you didn’t notice Peeta in the distance. He was staring daggers at Finnick and trying to figure out what would possibly warrant him needing to touch your face. When he saw you laugh at something Finnick had said in a louder laugh than he had ever heard from you, his jealousy got the better of him. He walked up to where you were and stood beside you.

“Oh, hi Peeta. This is Finnick.” You said and gestured to Finnick. Finnick gave Peeta a wink but it was different from the one he had given you. Peeta’s jaw clenched and he stood up a little straighter.

“The parade is gonna start soon. Shouldn’t you finish putting on your outfit?” Peeta asked Finnick.

“This is my outfit.” Finnick chuckled and gestured to his shirtless torso and skirt made of fishing net.

“Oh. Wow. It’s so….unique.” Peeta replied and made no effort to hide his sarcasm.

“I know. My stylist likes to play up the whole pretty boy Capital darling thing. He said wearing a shirt would dull my charm.” Finnick shrugged and flexed his arms a little. Peeta heard you gulp and felt white hot jealousy go through his veins.

“I think he’s right.” You said with a nervous laugh.

“Do you? So it’s working then? I’m charming you?” Finnick asked and took a step closer to you. Peeta couldn’t help but roll his eyes all the way to the ceiling.

“I don’t know if I’d call it charm. But you’re definitely evoking some emotion.” Peeta said with a tight smile. Finnicks eyes left yours for a second to clock Peeta. He looked him up and down and smirked a little.

“You know what I think? I think that you and I should train together. I’m sure we have a lot to teach each other.” Finnick said as he turned his attention back to you.

“Oh. Okay. Sure.” You shrugged.

“I’m looking forward to it. I’ll see you out there.” Finnick gave you one last wink before walking away. You immediately smiled and waved to him as he left.

“See you!” You called after him. Peeta stepped in front of you once Finnick was gone to bring your attention back to earth.

“He was so nice. He probably heard about me and wants to learn archery.” You said with a smile.

“Bullshit.” Peeta mumbled.

“Woah. You need to put a coin in the swear jar for that one.” You laughed in surprise and folded your arms.

“I’m sorry. That was rude of me.” Peeta said genuinely. He felt bad for popping your bubble just to ease his own jealousy.

“Hey, I’m just kidding. It was entertaining to hear you swear. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“I had it in me. I have a lot of things in me.” Peeta insisted and suddenly worried if you saw him as less of a man now that you’d met the muscular and valorous Finnick.

“Like what?” You chuckled and raised and eyebrow.

“Nothing. Never mind. What else did you guys talk about?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I think I blacked out a little. But we talked about the horses. And sugar.”

“Really, that’s all? You guys were talking for a while.” Peeta frowned.

“Honestly, I didn’t do much talking. He came at me with so many compliments and I was stunned to silence.” You realized.

“Compliments? What did he say?” Peeta forced a laugh so he didn’t come off as jealous as he felt that another man was complimenting you. It wasn’t just that he complimented you, but that you clearly liked it.

“He said I was pretty.” You admitted with a shy smile on your face.

“That’s it?“ Peeta scoffed.

“Why? Do you think I’m not pretty?” You asked and touched your cheek insecurely.

“No! Of course I do.” Peeta quickly explained. “I think you’re so pretty. I just don’t touch your face to tell you that.”

“Yeah. I guess he was pretty friendly.” You agreed and kept your hand on your face as you replayed him touching your chin.

“If that’s your way of putting “handsy”, then yes. Very friendly.” Peeta mumbled.

“I don’t know why I even care what some boy thinks. I guess I’m just not used to the attention. I can’t even remember the last time someone told me I was pretty.” You admitted as you played with the frills on your outfit. Peeta felt bad for making little of what Finnick has said when it clearly meant something to you.

“Maybe people think it but just don’t tell you.” Peeta said in a soft voice.

“I doubt it.” You shrugged.

“Well, don’t. Because I happen to think that you’re-“

“Good luck out there, pretty girl.” Finnick called from his chariot across the room. You looked over at Finnick and waved to him.

“Thanks. You too.” You called after him.

“I’ll have my eye on you.” He winked at you as his horses pulled him out of the room. You didn’t know what to say to that so you have an half hearted thumbs up while Peeta rolled his eyes.

“So what do you think? Should we train with him?” You asked once he was gone.

“Absolutely not.” Peeta said immediately.

“Really? Why not? He was the youngest ever winner of the games. He’s gotta be good, right?”

“I’m sure he is. But he’s not someone we should keep around.” Peeta replied.

“What makes you say that?”

“Because he asked me once if you and I were really in love or just putting on a show. And judging by his tone, I’m guessing he knows the answer.” Peeta whispered to you.

“He did?”

“Yeah. Right before telling me there isn’t gonna be any sugar or flour in the area so I’ll be out of luck.” Peeta grumbled, making you laugh. Peeta felt his jealousy return when he heard you laugh at Finnicks joke.

“Sorry. He was trying to be mean but that’s kinda funny.” You admitted.

“You think he’s funny?” Peeta asked quietly.

“No. I mean, I don’t know. I only just met him.”

“Hm.” Peeta hummed and looked to the side.

“What?” You wondered.

“Nothing. I didn’t say anything.”

“I know. That’s why I’m asking. You always have something to say. Until now, mysteriously. Is everything okay?” You asked him and touched his shoulder. Peeta looked at where your hand had been and sighed before looking in your eyes.

“He’s been talking about you a lot lately. Like, a lot a lot.” Peeta admitted.

“Really?” You asked and didn’t hide how intrigued you were.

“One of the other tributes told me brings you up every chance he gets ever since we won the last games. He even said…” Peeta began but then trailed off.

“He said what?” You urged and shook his arm.

“He said he’s gonna have a hard time killing someone so pretty.” Peeta admitted. Your curiosity about Finnick quickly turned into fear.

“Was he joking?” You asked quietly.

“I think so. But I don’t find it funny.”

“Neither do I.” You agreed. You finally stopped thinking about Finnick long enough to look at what Peeta was wearing for the tribute parade. His shirt was made of the same material as your corset and bared his arms. You had never seen his arms exposed like that and wanted him to know you liked it.

“I like what Cinna put you in.” You changed the subject and nodded towards his outfit.

“Thanks. It’s cool and all but definitely not something I’d chose for myself.” Peeta laughed softly as he climbed into the chariot.

“Oh, I don’t know. I think you’ve been waiting to show off these arms for a while.” You teased him. He held out his hand and helped you climb up into the chariot.

“You really do look beautiful tonight.” He told you.

“Thank you. But I don’t really feel like me. I feel like I’m wearing someone else’s clothes. And their face.” You admitted as you pressed your fingertips into your cheeks and felt the layers of makeup you had on.

“I know the feeling. But it’s just for tonight. You can be you again tomorrow.” Peeta assured you.

“So can you.” You told him with a soft smile. He held out his hand and you held it the way you did the first time you rode in the tribute parade.

“We can be us.” He said.

Following the parade, you dismounted your chariot and let Peeta pick you up to help you off the platform. Once your feet were in the ground, Finnick came running over to you and pulled you into an unexpected hug.

“There she is. Great job out there today.” He said once he pulled away. Peeta was once again staring daggers at him and took a step closer to your side.

“Thank you. But I didn’t really do much. I just kinda stood there.” You shrugged.

“That’s all you need to do. And I swear, you were the only one I had my eyes on.” Finnick said and touched your chin again. Peeta cleared his throat and wrapped a protective arm around your waist. Finnick noticed this and looked into Peeta’s eyes with a cocky smirk.

“So, what will you do with the rest of your evening now that the whole world wants to sleep with you?” Finnick asked you, making yours and Peeta’s eyes go wide.

“I don’t know about that.” You laughed nervously.

“Hm. Maybe just me then.” Finnick said with a causal shrug. Peeta clenched his jaw and stepped forward to let Finnick know he needed to back off. Finnick laughed and held up his hands in defense.

“Ah, I’m only kidding Peeta. I wouldn’t try to steal your girl right in front of you.” Finnick assured him.

“Oh. Good.” Peeta relaxed a little when he heard Finnick refer to you as “his” girl.

“I’d wait until your back is turned.” Finnick quickly followed up, making you laugh in surprise.

“Come on. I’m joking.” Finnick grinned and patted Peeta’s shoulder.

“Aren’t jokes supposed to be funny?” Peeta asked with a tight smile.

“Hey, I’m just messing with you guys. I’m like this with everyone. I just like to have a little fun so don’t take it out on me in the games, okay?” Finnick said and patted Peeta’s arm again, making Peeta yank it back and give him a look.

“I’ll let you guys go. We have a lot of training to do tomorrow so don’t keep her up all night, all right Peeta?” Finnick laughed as he walked away.

“No promises.” Peeta grumpily called after him. You stepped in front of Peeta and folded your arms once Finnick was gone.

“You’re gonna keep me up all night, huh?” You teased him.

“Shut up. He started it.” Peeta grumbled.

“And you certainly ended it. Come on. Let’s go to bed.” You said and started walking towards the sleeping facilities. Peeta followed you to the girls ward and lingered outside your door.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” Peeta asked with a bit of a whine in his voice.

“You want to? I assumed your want the big fancy bed in your room all to yourself.”

“I just don’t want people to get suspicious if they see us sleeping in separate rooms. Since we’re madly in love and all that.” Peeta explained with a coy smile.

“Good point. Come in.” You playfully rolled your eyes at him and let him into your room. You slept on his chest like you usually did and he forgot all about Finnick.

In the morning, you and Peeta went downstairs join the rest of the tributes for a welcome breakfast. When you walked into the room together, Finnick was the first to greet you.

“Good morning, you two. I hope you got some sleep.” Finnick said with a suggestion wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Not much.” You said through a yawn. The other tributes at the table snickered and exchanged knowing looks with each other. You realized how that sounded and felt embarrassed.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” You whispered to Peeta.

“It’s okay. Roll with it. It helps our act.” He whispered back and gave your arm a squeeze.

“Here. I saved you a seat.” Finnick said and gestured to the two vacant seats beside him.

“Please, no. It’s too early for him.” Peeta leaned in to whine in your ear.

“We have to be polite. You’ll be okay.” You whispered back.

“Fine. But I’m not sitting next to him.”

“I’ll sit in the middle.” You assured him and took the seat right next to Finnick. Peeta watched the way you smiled at each other and realized he made the wrong move.

“How did you sleep?” You politely asked Finnick.

“Not great either so I got up early and went for a run around the garden.” Finnick told you.

“This place has a garden?”

“It does. Have you done any exploring of the facilities yet? I could give you a tour if you’d like. We can start in my room.” Finnick replied, making Peeta choke on the water he had sipped.

“She and I already looked around. We just didn’t find the garden.” Peeta cut in.

“Well the offer still stands. I could use the company.” Finnick said with a suave smile that made Peeta roll his eyes to the ceiling.

“I’ll think about it.” You answered to be polite. An awkward silence followed and you could sense that Peeta was upset. You picked a piece of bread from your plate and took a bite.

“What kind of bread is this? I’ve never seen this in 12.” You turned to ask Peeta. He stopped being grumpy and smiled at the question.

“It’s called challah. I’ve seen it in my recipe books but I never had the ingredients to make it.” He answered you.

“It’s good. It’s sweet.” You commented and took another bite.

“Here. Take mine.” Peeta said and put his bread on your plate. You smiled gratefully and moved the eggs from your plate onto his.

“I don’t like them anyway. And I know you do.” You explained.

“Thank you.” Peeta smiled at you.

“Gross.” Finnick snickered. “Get a room.”

“We will. But we need to eat first.” Peeta snapped, making you laugh in surprise.

“Good one.” You whispered to him. The rest of the meal went by without anymore comments from Finnick or Peeta.

Training began later that day. You and Peeta stayed close by each other and built up your weakest skills while keeping a close eye on the other tributes. Meanwhile, Finnick was having a gallant time showing off at the different training areas. He didn’t take anything to do with the games seriously anymore so he was just there to have fun. You and Peeta watched him hit targets with ease with his trident and bask in the applause. You then looked down at what you were doing, which was leaning how to paint your body to camouflage into the ground. Peeta was teaching you some simple painting techniques but you couldn’t help but get distracted by Finnick’s skills.

“Not for nothing, but should we consider being allies with Finnick?” You asked Peeta.

“I thought it was just gonna be me and you in there.” Peeta said without looking at you.

“Is that what you want?” You asked him.

“I want what you want.” He replied and looked into your eyes.

“I just wanted you. But if he asks us, it wouldn’t hurt to be his ally. He has been training for this his whole life. It would be better to have him on our side than hunting us.” You shrugged.

“That’s the thing. He doesn’t want me as an ally. He only wants you.” Peeta reminded you.

“Why just me? You’re stronger and can fight.”

“Because he’s in love with you.” Peeta said loud enough to draw the attention of several tributes, including Finnick. Peeta hung his head in disappointment as Finnick sauntered over to you.

“Uh oh. Talking about me, I hope.” Finnick said with a grin. “Come with me, Y/n. I want to show you how it tie a fisherman’s knot.”

“She already knows how to do that.” Peeta grumbled.

“Oh really? What about a sheep shank?” Finnick asked you.

“What’s that?” You asked.

“Follow me and I’ll show you.” Finnick offered and held out his hand. Peeta watched the way you took his hand to stand up and clenched his jaw. You started to follow Finnick until you heard a little groan from Peeta. You didn’t want to upset Peeta, but you did want to learn a new knot.

“Peeta should come too so that he can learn.” You stated.

“Peeta’s busy. Besides, I don’t think knots are really his thing. He’s more into arts and crafts, right Peeta?” Finnick asked and shot Peeta a wink. Peeta stayed silent as he glared at Finnick.

“I’ll be right back.” You told Peeta with an apologetic smile. Peeta tried to focus on his painting but could not stop looking up at you and Finnick. Finnick did the classic move of wrapping his arms around you to show you how to do something which made Peeta sick to his stomach.

“Wanna take me for a walk?” Finnick laughed as he wrapped a knot around his neck. You laughed as well and Peeta couldn’t take it anymore. That’s when he realized he didn’t have to take it. As far as everyone in the room was concerned, you and Peeta were supposedly in love. That meant he didn’t have to stand by and watch some guy flirt with his girl. Peeta marched up to you and spun you around by the waist before planting a kiss on your lips. You stumbled back in surprise before kissing him back. Finnick watched the kiss and chuckled softly, knowing exactly what Peeta was doing. You gave him a confused by pleased smile when he pulled away but he just kept his usual cheery smile on.

“Sorry. I just need to borrow my fiancé for a minute.” Peeta said to Finnick before pulling you aside.

“Go right ahead.” Finnick replied.

“What was that all about?” You whispered once you were out of earshot.

“Nothing. I just wanted to tell you that I’m gonna check out the poisonous berry catalog in case you’re looking for me.” Peeta said innocently.

“Okay. Thanks for telling me.” You said and narrowed your eyes suspiciously at him. Peeta pecked your lips again before going over to the catalog. You touched your buzzing lips before going back to Finnick.

“Well somebody’s jealous.” Finnick chuckled.

“Leave him alone. You’re antagonizing him.” You scolded playfully.

“I know. And it’s very fun.” Finnick insisted.

“Well knock it off. He’s a good guy.”

“I know he is. But I’m bored of the other tributes and you guys are fresh meat. Let me play a little, okay?”

“All right. But I think he’s playing too now.” You warned.

And that’s exactly what Peeta was doing. Now that he remembered his advantage over Finnick, he used it anytime he could. He started kissing you when entering or leaving any room and making sure it was always in Finnicks line of sight. His hands were often on your hips or arm when standing near each other and he always had a grip on your leg when sitting. Finnick would always chuckle and look away, knowing it mattered a lot more to Peeta than it did to him. Peeta’s need for your attention also increased and you found that he was always right by your side or lingering just around the corner. You didn’t mind since you were anxious about the upcoming games and having him around always calmed you. But you couldn’t help but be bothered by the way he checked to see if Finnick was watching each time he kissed or touched you.

You were talking to Finnick in the hallway one day when you felt two strong arms wrap around your shoulders. You knew it was Peeta without looking because of the amused look on Finnicks face.

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you.” Peeta said and pecked your lips.

“Hello Peeta.” Finnick said curtly.

“Hello Finnick. Were you unable to find your wardrobe? I could loan you some shirts, if you’d like.” Peeta offered when he noticed that once again, Finnicks chest was bare. You clocked the sarcasm underneath Peeta’s kind tone and turned your head to laugh.

“That’s okay. I prefer it this way. It lets me move my arms more freely.” Finnick said and flexed his arms to prove his point. Peeta saw your eyes go wide and clenched his jaw.

“You must be really strong, Finnick.” You noted as your eyes stayed glued to his arms.

“I do a lot of heavy lifting back home. Go on, feel them.” Finnick said as he stared right into Peeta’s eyes.

“Oh, uh…” You laughed nervously and gripped Finnicks bicep like he asked. You didn’t want to deny the offer and seem rude, and you seriously wanted to feel his muscles, so Peeta was gonna have to take one for the team.

“Wow.” You gasped. “I’ve never felt anything like that.”

“I bet you haven’t.” Finnick grinned and shot a smug look at Peeta. Peeta could do nothing but watch with jealousy brewing in his eyes, and that was all Finnick needed.

“Well, I should get some rest. We have another big day tomorrow. But I’ll be looking forward to when my eyes can see yours again.” Finnick said and nudged your cheek. You smiled timidly while Peeta rolled his eyes up to the ceiling.

“See you around, Peet.” Finnicks chuckled and clapped Peeta on the back. Once you were alone, Peeta let out a sigh.

“Did you really have to touch his arm?” He whined.

“I guess not. But I wanted to. We are facing death right now and I’ll probably never get another chance to feel like a normal girl my age so I’m just trying to have some fun. You should try it sometime.” You said and came off just as annoyed as you felt. Peeta was surprised your tone and gulped.

“I can’t have fun when he’s lingering around you all the time like a hawk.” He mumbled.

“Who cares what he’s doing?” You groaned.

“I care.” Peeta snapped. You raised your eyebrows at him and he immediately felt bad.

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you.” Peeta apologized. “It’s just that guy. I can’t stand him. I thought he was trying to get into your head to psych you out before the games but he’s gotten into mine instead. He drives me crazy.”

“Oh, I get it. So that’s why you’ve been kissing me so much lately? You wanted to get back at Finnick?” You asked with a sad smile.

“I just wanted to remind him that you and I are a team. Not that he seems to care.” Peeta sighed.

“I care.” You said and put your hand on his shoulder. Peeta put his hand over yours and looked into your eyes apologetically.

“But I also don’t like you using me to get ahead in your little competition with Finnick. I’m not a trophy, you know. I’m a person.” You reminded him.

“You’re absolutely right. I’m sorry. I should’ve have rubbed our relationship in his face like that. Especially not without asking you first.”

“Thank you for apologizing. And it’s not that I didn’t like all the kissing. I just didn’t like that you were only doing it to bother Finnick.”

“I mean, that’s not the only reason I was kissing you. I happen to like kissing you. Annoying Finnick was just a pleasant side effect.” Peeta admitted as a blush covered his cheeks. You smiled at him admitting it and took a step closer to him.

“Well then it’s a good thing we’re on the same page, then.” You said as you toyed with the buttons on his shirt.

“We are?”

“We are. But no more fighting with Finnick. We really need him as an ally so you’ll have to learn to be civil.”

“If he can learn to keep his hands to himself then I can learn to be civil.” Peeta mumbled.

“Peeta.” You said warningly.

“Fine. Yes. You’re right. I can be civil.” Peeta said begrudgingly. You were pleased with his answer and kissed his cheek to thank him for listening. A rosy blush covered Peeta’s face and he smiled fondly at you.

“But I guess I can’t really blame him. Because I’ve had a hard time keeping my hands to myself around you too.” He said and took your chin between his fingers the way Finnick often did.

“That,” you smiled, “I’m okay with.”

Tag list

- [ ] @ilovetoomanymen @kittimbo @sipsthecoffee @ohmyhuenings

@ilykitwalker @mayemperess @scenesofobx

@imaegonstargaryenswife0 @basicb1tchboy @planetevermore @bellasfavbisexual

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Lost Comfort

masterlist

summary: dean hurt you when he was a demon, now it’s hard to sleep next to him

paring: dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language, violent themes

word count: 1.1k

warnings: please read! talk of serious sexual assault, demon!dean being worse than he was in the show, (he wasn’t even that bad in the show, but he’s bad in this), language

“Dean, stop, this isn’t you!” you shrieked, pushing the demon’s arm away. It was no use. Dean was stronger than you when he wasn’t a supernatural being, but now you didn’t even stand a chance.

“C’mon, sweetheart, I know you love me,” he laughed, black eyes staring at you.

“Of course I do Dean, but I know you love me too and this isn’t love! Please get off of me!” you sobbed.

Your eyes flung open, a thin layer of sweat coating your forehead. You blinked away the dream and took in your surroundings, before realizing Dean’s arms were wrapped tightly around you.

“Dean, let me go,” you said. It came out as barely a whisper. Even if he was awake he wouldn’t have heard you. “Dean, please- fuck, let me go!” you repeated, but you were still barely speaking. “Dean let go!” you screamed, which woke him up.

“Y/n?” He furrowed his brows. “Hey, you okay?”

“Dean let me go! Now!” you cried. He flung his arms open and you hurried out of the bed. “God fucking damn it! I told you to let me go and you didn’t!”

“I- I’m sorry, hun I was asleep I swear I didn’t hear you,” he said quietly as he sat up.

“This was a mistake, I can’t sleep next to you! What was I thinking?” you scoffed. “I’m sleeping in the Dean Cave, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Wait, no don’t go! I’ll go sleep on the couch, you stay here!” He got out of bed but didn’t miss the flinch you threw when he walked towards you. “I’m so sorry.”

Sam suddenly burst through the door; gun in one hand and holy water in the other.

“What happened? He a demon again?” Sam asked you, his eyes wide.

“Just a bad dream.” You shook your head. You brushed past Sam and walked towards the Dean Cave before stopping in your tracks. You hurried back to yours and Dean’s room.

“I still love you, Dean, I just need a bit of time, okay?” You smiled sadly, noticing the tears now on his face as he nodded.

“I love you, take all the time you need,” he replied.

With that you left.

“Dude, what the fuck happened?” Sam asked, putting his gun and the holy water down. “She’s never left you after a dream before, has she?”

“I- I think the dream was about me,” Dean whispered. “Fuck, I really hurt her this time Sam. I- I don’t think she’s gonna be able to forgive me.”

“This is Y/n, Dean,” Sam started, “she’d do anything for you. I think she just needs time.”

“But you don’t know what I did.” Dean let silent tears fall as he thought about what his demon self had done to you.

“I mean, it couldn’t have been that bad?” Sam scoffed a little then Dean looked at him. “Right?”

Dean bit the inside of his cheek and shook his head, looking down. “I r-ruh—god, I can’t even say it out loud.”

“Oh god,” Sam muttered, internally jumping to (correct) conclusions. “It’s been like two weeks, Dean. Of course she can’t stand to sleep next to you.”

“But it wasn’t me!” Dean cried. “I hate myself so fucking much for taking this stupid fucking mark and letting it consume me.”

“Dean-”

“Don’t get me wrong, I do not blame her if she doesn’t wanna ever see me again, but fuck! I’d do anything to fix this.”

“Just give her space.” Sam shrugged. “I think that’s all you can do right now. Whatever future your relationship with her has, is completely up to her.” As he turned to leave, he added; “But also be prepared for her not to forgive you for this. I don’t think she’ll be able to.” With that Sam left.

**

“Dean please!?” you screamed. “Dean, I love you! I know you’re in there somewhere, please stop!”

You woke up alone in the Dean Cave, beads of sweat rolling down your temples.

“Shit!” you mumbled, letting tears fall.

You sat up on the couch and tucked your knees into your chest. You checked the clock and realized you’d only gotten about forty-five minutes of sleep since your last dream.

You tried to go back to sleep but every time you closed your eyes you were met with the horrid memories; Dean hovering over you with his demon eyes.

You tossed and turned for a while before you realized there was only one person in the world who could make you feel better and he was the one person you couldn’t stand to touch right now. You huffed to yourself as you got up and left the Dean Cave.

When you opened the bedroom door you were met with Dean crying softly into your pillow, facing away from the door.

“Hey,” you said quietly, your voice laced with trace amounts of fear. His eyes flung open and he slowly sat up.

“Hey, uh- what’re you- what’re you doing here, uh, Y/n?” He stumbled over his words and wiped his tears away with his hands. He put his feet to the hardwood to stand up but you backed away and shook your head. You didn’t want to be that close to him.

“I- I’m still scared of you, I’m sorry,” you whispered. “But I love you,” you added quickly. “I love you so fucking much and I know I can’t sleep next to you, but I can’t sleep properly without you. So, I uh, I’m just gonna sleep in here… on the floor.”

“What? Honey you can’t sleep on the floor,” Dean said. “I’ll sleep on the floor, you can have the bed.”

“No, cause then I’ll feel bad about kicking you out of bed,” you mumbled, causing Dean to smile a little.

“How about this; we both sleep on the floor by our sides of the bed. That way neither of us feel bad about the other, we’re far enough apart, and we can see each other from under the bed.”

“I’d like that.” You smiled softly. “Can I maybe use your pillow though, looks like you soaked mine,” you laughed a little, causing him to do the same.

“I’d actually prefer to use yours,” he replied and tossed you his pillow. “Smells like you.”

You took a whiff of the pillow now in your hands. “Is that the aftershave I bought you?” He nodded with a smile. “Perfect!”

You waited until Dean was on the floor of his side of the bed before you went to your side and laid down. When you put your head to the pillow, you were met with Dean’s soft smile a few feet away.

“Is this okay?” he asked, you nodded.

“I love you, Dean,” you whispered. You reached an arm out under the bed so Dean did the same, your fingers touching in the middle.

“I love you so much, Y/n.”

[aviawrites]

the rage of a harkonnen (dune: part two)

pairings: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Fem!Reader

summary: The Emperor’s second born daughter, Harauna, has never been truly seen by her father; Her light always being dimmed by the shine of her older sister, Irulan. As Maud’Dib continues fighting on Arrakis and her father’s spot falls farther into jeopardy, Princess Harauna sees an opportunity to finally find her place in the Imperium…Wife of the possible Emperor, ruling alongside Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. (3.9k)

a/n: i’ve already seen this movie twice and i’m going again😛 austin’s performance is so compelling, i couldn’t take my eyes off of him whenever he was on screen. i hope you all liked feyd-rautha as much as i do…otherwise i may be crazy. anyway, as always, ur interaction is greatly appreciated, ily<3

warnings: blood, death, abuse

in this story, yn is: Harauna Corrino (Harkonnen)

10191 // month 1 // 📍kaitan 

“Paul Atreides is not our only prospect.” Reverend Mother Mohiam reveals, standing before you and your sister. “The Baron’s youngest nephew, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, will inherit Arrakis. He may be the answer.”

Your eyes open wide, the name itself sending shivers down your spine. You, along with all of your family, knew of Feyd-Rautha - Knew of the Sadistic Harkonnen, known for slaughtering anyone who challenges him, even his own people. 

“Feyd-Rautha?” Irulan furrows her brows, “He’s psychotic.”

“That’s irrelevant. The question is…can we control him?” 

You stare up at the Reverend Mother’s black veil, an idea striking you.  

Since a child, it’s always been Princess Irulan - The Emperor’s daughter. Irulan will inherit the thrones, Irulan will marry Paul Atreides, Irulan will rule the empire. Never once has your father taken the time to look at you. Never once has he asked the Reverend Mother how you are as a Bene Gesserit. If he did, he’d come to learn that you’re just as equipped to take on the role of Empress as your sister. 

You know what you know - You know how impossible it is to ever be worthy of attention in your father’s eyes. The sound of marrying the prince, possibly the future Emperor, doesn’t seem distasteful. Is he a terrible man, yes. May he turn out to be a worse husband, yes. But God forgive you if you choose being the possible ruler of the empire over being second best. 

“I will marry Feyd-Rautha…” You suggest, coming out as more of a squeak. 

Their eyes dart to yours, Irulan’s gaze feeling more like knives piercing your head.

“Young Harauna-“

“No.” Your sister interjects, turning your body toward hers. “Are you crazy? Feyd-Rautha is the last man you need to marry.”

“Irulan, I want to.” You push back, your voice low. “He may be Emperor one day, we need to secure that opportunity. Do we not, Reverend Mother?”

“We absolutely do, Harauna.”

Irulan’s jaw hangs open, looking between the two of you.

“Are you serious? Reverend Mother, you know Feyd-Rautha. You’ve seen him with your own eyes - You want Hara anywhere near that?”

“She’s thinking of the Imperium, Irulan. Should Paul Atreides be alive, he will want the throne.”

“Feyd-Rautha won’t go down without a fight…” You finish for her.

“Precisely. If he loses, Paul will have a bride awaiting him.” She gestures to your sister. “But if he reigns supreme, he’ll have a Corrino by his side.”

Irulan only shakes her head, disbelief glossing in her eyes. 

“Hara…”

“Sister, I need to do this.” You whisper, softly squeezing her hands. “I can’t make decisions like you…I’m not you.”

“W- What does that mean, Hara? I don’t understand-“

“If I get in line for the throne…” You begin. “If I secure a spot for myself in the Empire, I will be nearly equal to you in father’s eyes. I’ll mean something to someone.”

A tear threatens to fall as she struggles to find words. 

“You mean something to me.” She shrugs, now wondering if that holds any value to you. “If I lose you to the Harkonnens…If I have to stay here alone while you’re on Giedi Prime I don’t know how I’ll-“ She quickly wipes her eyes, taking a breath. “I don’t know how I’ll survive this impending war without you, Hara.”

You tilt your head, bringing your hand to Irulan’s cheek. 

“Write to me, Irulan.” You smile, forcing back your own tears as you solidify this departure in your head. “Send messages to Giedi Prime, will you? Write them like you do your entries and I swear to you I’ll read each one. No matter what happens with the Harkonnen’s, I’ll always have my sister back home on my side, right?”  

A thick silence falls upon the three of you, Irulan fighting between perplex and terror as her hands began to quiver in yours.

“I’ll alert the Emperor.” Reverend Mother says, leaving the two of you.

Alone, your sister pulls you into an embrace, one of the tighter ones. She allows her tears to land on your garments, her shoulders trembling as small whimpers escape her lips.

“Don’t do this, Hara.”

10191 // month 3 // 📍giedi prime

“On your birthday of all days. The Baron should know better than to jeopardize his soon to be Planetary Governor in such a public manner. You could’ve died.” 

“I would not have died.” Your husband fiddles with his blade.

“All slaves should be drugged, should they not?” You remind him. “It’d have taken only one swift slash of the Atreides’ blade and The Baron would’ve lost his heir. He’s insane.”

“Careful, wife.” He warns, “The Baron is flawed but his promises are rich.”

“What could he possibly promise you that’s more important than the entirety of this planet?”

He stares, his eyes scanning you up and down as a small smirk grows on his face. 

“The entirety of Arrakis.” 

Creases form on your forehead, your words coming out as stammers.

“…He promises you…Arrakis?”

“If I manage to control spice production.” He explains, reveling in your dumbfounded expression. 

Your mind immediately imagines your life on Arrakis, a fate you’ve never considered. The plan was to marry Feyd-Rautha, be by his side when he defeats his opponents, have your father kneel to him, and rule the Imperium from the planet of the Harkonnens. But now, thoughts of working from the dune covered planet makes the hair on the back of your neck rise. 

“But-“ You clear your throat, “Um - Is that not Rabban’s job?”

“Rabban failed.” He seethes. “He humiliates house Harkonnen with each Fremen attack he allows. With me ruling the mission, there will be no more.”

“What’s the plan? Once you’re on Arrakis who’s to say my father won’t order you out? What if he doesn’t like how you handle-“

“The Emperor has a set fate too, Harauna. If we were to expose what he did to the Atreides’, the houses would explode. A rise against the Emperor would ensue.” He nears you, looking down at your wide eyes as he bares his blackened mouth. “The throne would be ours to take.”

You don’t know if he meant to admit to what he’s admitted to. Though, you have no doubt he’d tell you his plans to kill your father to your face, indifferent to what you might think. But even Feyd-Rautha should have some sort of limit, shouldn’t he?

“Feyd…” You murmur, “What will happen to him? What will happen to my house? My Reverend Mother, my sisters? They’re innocent they don’t deserve-“

He rolls his eyes, turning away in the midst of your oration. “Princess Harauna asks too many questions.” He returns to his spot across the room. “If you want to sit next to me as Empress, I suggest you straighten out a bit, hm?”

10191 // month 3 // 📍giedi prime

14 hours later 

Feyd-Rautha’s room reeks of deceased Harkonnen bodies and dried blood as you storm in, a scowl on your face. 

Inside, you see your husband squatted by a dead servant, one that if you look too close you may realize is an acquaintance of yours. 

‘FEYD-RAUTHA RABBA HARKO-‘ He’s carved into her pale white skin, his letters bleeding into each other.

The Princess Harauna 3 months ago would scream at the sight. She’d turn and run, alerting her Reverend Mother and father that a cold blooded murderer has gotten into your home. Only…this is home. The man carving names into bodies isn’t a stranger, not an intruder, but the man you married. 

Though you’re not sure he knows it, seeing as you can practically taste the Bene Gesserit on him.

You shove, hard, knocking Feyd-Rautha off balance and onto the concrete floor.

“What the-“

“Seriously!?” You shout, watching his bewildered expression looking back at you. “You’ve not been of age for one whole day and you’ve already betrayed me!”

“You watch yourself, woman.” He warns you, spite in his eyes. 

“I can smell her on you.” You say, knowing all of the signs of a Bene Gesserit’s work, and a sexually vulnerable Feyd-Rautha. “She could be carrying your child!”

Your husband quickly calms himself, seemingly deciding not to waste energy on someone like you. On someone like his wife.

“Would you stop that yelling?” He mumbles, turning and beginning to smear the blood across the mutilated arm.

“How dare you.” You scoff. “I’m meant to be your princess. I’m meant to be your queen Feyd-Rautha! Not some girl who was on a mission. A Bene Gesserit who was here to test you and didn’t want you for more than one night-“

“You’re not any better!” He rises, his demeanor changing like night and day in a split second. 

The minute he gets angry, his energy dominates the room. “Don’t you ever think you’re a better woman for being a power hungry leech who called dibs on the heir before anyone else.” He jabs, lowering until he’s in your face. 

Your jaw hangs open, offense quickly overpowering the fear that you often feel in the presence of an angry Feyd-Rautha. Or any Feyd-Rautha, at that. 

“I don’t need you.” Your eyes pierce his, flames igniting in yours. “I’m the Emperor’s daughter, I was second in line for the throne. If anything, you needed me to get to where you-“

The wind is knocked out of you as your husband grabs your neck, instantly cutting off your words. He grins, nearly frothing at the mouth as he always does at the slightest hint of violence. He feeds off of violence, in the face of which most people quiver he greets it with a big smile, he yearns for violence, he is violence.

“I needed you, huh?” His face about brushes yours, his saliva dripping onto you. “I wasn’t at home being neglected by daddy, Harauna. I wasn’t the second choice. I didn’t need to marry to get power. I wasn’t worthless.” 

He’s entranced, his hand on your throat tightening with each sentence until you’re sure it’ll snap. You claw at his stained hands, collecting the blood of his servants under your nails.

“Husband-“ You croak, feeling the pressure in your head increase.

Feyd-Rautha only smiles, adrenaline rushing throughout him as he contemplates letting this be the end of you. Maybe he should rid himself of this royal burden before she sits with him at the top.

“Know your place, princess.” He whispers before letting you go with a shove. 

You drop to the floor, crashing into the bloody bodies on the ground and fighting for your pipes to reopen. You frantically heave as he looks down at you once more, evil in his eyes, before he leaves you where you are. 

Weeps escape you, feeling selfish as you cry in the presence of women who got it much worse. 

But you don’t dare complain. For you asked for this. Your sister warned you, your logic warned you. Nevertheless, in times like this, the possibility of being ruler of the Imperium outweighs the possibility of dying due to your attempts. 

“Be the worst position in the highest room.” Your father used to tell you, “For some never make it to the room.”

10191 // month 4 // 📍starship 

The low hum of the frigate gives the cold ambience some character. Rabban lounges across the kitchen table, his feet up on the marble. Your husband sits a few chairs down from you, sheathing and unsheathing his blade, creating a repetitive sound for the two of you to suffer through.

“Princess Harauna.” You hear as the grand doors within the starship open. A servant enters, seemingly a younger version of the Baron, with a thin metal tube in his hand. 

The big man hands it to you, bowing slightly before shuffling away.

“Say thanks to the piggy.” Feyd-Rautha teases, a devilish grin on his face.

Rabban slightly chuckles as you eye your husband, sighing before opening the letter.

“To my sister, Hara.” 

Your eyes gleam, seeming to scan faster and faster the more and more you read. The two men in the room with you don’t seem to notice, mindlessly engaging in their own boredom as the ship heats up in the weather of Arrakis. 

You shut the tube with a click, looking down at it as you weakly attempt to process what you’ve just read.  

“Paul Atreides…is coming.” You reveal, catching the attention of Rabban and Feyd-Rautha. “He makes his way from the south.”

“Paul Atreides is dead.” Rabban corrects you. 

“He didn’t die in the attack-“

“I know that, woman!” He abruptly shouts, banging the table. “I saw to it myself, him and his mother died in the-“

“Sandstorm.” You finish, much quieter than he began. “But he didn’t.”

Your husband has turned his body toward you, now intently listening.

“They live - And they challenge my father now.” You look up at the two of them, “Him. He must be this Maud’Dib, this Lisan-Al-Gaib. Who else would it be?”

“Wait,” Feyd speaks up, “Challenge your father for what, exactly?”

You meet his gaze before reopening the letter, searching for the Irulan’s line on the challenge:

Paul Atreides will arrive unannounced when we land in Arrakis in a challenge for the throne.

Rabban shakes his head. “There’s no longer a need for the Emperor on Arrakis.” He misses the point, “We’ve got the spice production under control. The old bastard can stay home.”

Feyd-Rautha leans his elbows in his knees, looking up at you with that same evil look he gets whenever a dangerous plan arises.

“Atreides’,” He thinks aloud, “They’re little rats. Insects that keep popping up no matter how many times you exterminate.”

“Should I alert the Baron?” Rabban asks, speaking quicker than his acute brain can think. 

“You will do no such thing.” Feyd demands, conjuring up his plan in his much more suitable brain. “Since the Emperor is deciding to pay us a visit despite the work l've done here…Maybe the Atreides' will do the bloody work for us. Keep us in the good graces of the Great Houses."

Bloody work, he says. The exposure and diminishing of your father’s name he means. 

“Brother.” Rabban counters, “The Atreides’ - The Fremen - They’ll have us outnumbered. Uncle should be aware-“

“You will do no such thing.” His brother orders, now loosely pointing his blade toward Rabban. “The throne is mine therefore the throne is yours. The Baron won’t make Harkonnen the greatest house, brother. I will.” He leers.

“Husband,” You voice reason, seeing all of the ways you could lose your promised spot to this scheme. “If it comes to a fight and Paul beats you-“

“He won’t beat me.”

“But if this challenge doesn’t go our way,” You hypothesize, “We could lose everything. Paul Atreides won’t let my father live, not after what he’s done. My family will hold no power, my sister will be-“

"I will remain unharmed, will I not? As will my brother.” He redirects. “Are we not your biggest concern anymore? Are we not your family, Harauna?" 

…

The ship gets hotter and hotter as you near Arrakeen. Feyd-Rautha meddles with his torso buttons on the opposite side of the room as you stare at the screen in your bedroom, broadcasting the sandy terrain of the new planet.

“What would your plans be as Emperor, Feyd-Rautha?” You query, eyes locked on the family owned land.

He sighs as he always does when you open your mouth, as if nothing his wife says is worthwhile. 

“Princess Harauna asks too many questions.” He repeats.

“Just answer me…Please.” You urge, the question having appeared in your mind minutes ago and hasn’t stopped nagging since. 

“What do you think my plans are, princess?” He turns toward you, his dark and threatening eyes seeming to dim the entire room. “I’m going to make the entire Imperium Harkonnen. Our family will be the most powerful spice harvesters anyone’s ever seen.” He begins, “I’ll give my Empress a child, grow our empire, and teach my princeling how to rule.”

You listen intently, trying your hardest to envision your life going from Princess of Kaitan, to wife of the heir, to Empress of the Imperium beside Feyd-Rautha, of all men.

Be the worst position in the highest room.

Your husband goes on. “Caladan will be a thing of the past. Atreides will be a thing of the past. Harkonnen will be the great house and any others will just be…Maud’Dib.” He chuckles.

“‘Your Empress’...” You point out, never having heard your name. You only wish to hear where you and your family stand in his master plan. “Would it be me?”

He gives you his undivided attention, letting go of his leather vest. “Why must you talk so much about things that don’t matter?” He asks, true indifference and apathy in his tone.

For some never make it to the room.

“…Is it me or no one?” You speak up, your voice frantically running before your mind can catch up. “Is it me or death, Feyd-Rautha?”

Your attitude shifts in the middle of your sentence as you realize where you’ve heard these exact words before.

“You or no one, Irulan.” Your father would say, stroking your sister’s hair while the rest of you sat and waited for nothing. 

Never in your life did you plan to sit in a Harkonnen’s bedroom and beg for his approval. For his confirmation that you were his. 

But here you are, begging the worst of men to love you the way The Emperor never did. The way he never will. 

“In two moons I will be Emperor.” Feyd-Rautha strides toward you, holding your hands in his as he bores. “Harauna Harkonnen will be next to me.”

A smile grows wide on your face; An odd, yet full, feeling of acceptance spiraling throughout you.

His eyes suddenly seem to get even darker as his grip on your hands morphs into a crushing clutch. “For as long as she knows her place, she will remain.”

Ice replaces the once warm feeling in your veins. Your smile fades as his grows, watching the fear in you rise with each squeeze of your fingers. Tears form in your eyes as the reality of your situation sets in once more as it has over and over since you step foot on Giedi Prime.

But you don’t dare complain. For you asked for this. Your sister warned you, your logic warned you.

10191 // month 4 // 📍arrakeen

two days later

You all stand completely still, your heartbeat seeming to be louder than the atomics outside of the Emperor’s structure. Inside the ring of Sardukaur lies your family; Irulan hiding behind your father as Maud’Dib, in front of your eyes, holds a blade over the Baron.

You and Feyd-Rautha stand alone across the walkway, your husband seemingly hypnotized by Paul Atreides as he plunges it into his uncles neck. Your hand resting on Feyd’s lower back vibrates as his breathing heavies, being just as amazed by Paul as you are. 

The both of your mouths hang open, and for once, you and your husband seem to be on the same page. Paul begins barking orders at your father as you bring your lips to Feyd’s ear, speaking in a hushed whisper to not interfere with the daring Paul Maud’Dib.

“In the event of your death…” You begin. He slightly cocks his head toward you, listening. “Would you have me marry him?”

Paul gives one last daring look at the sea of people standing against him, though, he seems as fearless as your husband as his expression never wavers from stone. 

“Is he worthy?”

Feyd-Rautha doesn’t so much as flinch at your comment, new, for a man like him. You can’t help but believe it’s because you’re right. The na-Baron recognizes that the viciousness that is Paul Atreides, no matter how unexpected, is a perfect match for him. A perfect match for his wife. 

Is he wrong to admit that if not him, Paul may be the closest thing to fit to be Emperor of the universe?

…

You’ve never laid eyes on a fight so glorious. The two most powerful and ferocious men on Arrakis clinking their blades again and again in a battle for the throne. 

The room falls silent as your husband lodges his sword into Paul, holding him close as one of the two release an animalistic roar. His mother stands, his Fremen’s mouths hang agape, your husband just hardly smiles at you over his shoulder. 

You can’t help but feel a sense of dread boiling in your stomach. Yes - You want Feyd-Rautha to reign supreme. Yes, you want to be Empress. But as you watch the devilish sneer on his face fill out as Paul’s blood stains his pasty hand, your heart seems to be pulling you in another direction. You’ve always been quite talented at telling good from bad; But Maud’Dib, you can’t seem to figure out. He lays in the gray area in between the two, you determine. 

Your reflection is quickly halted as the squelching sound of an edge piercing skin fills the room. You sway to the side, eyes wide as you see Paul’s hand gripping the handle, the rest buried into your husband’s heart. 

A gasp escapes many in the room, you included as a hand flies to your mouth. You and your father very well may be the only people in the room who are rooting for Feyd-Rautha. Knowing this, the smiles that sprinkle themselves on attendants throughout the room quickly after the inhale isn’t unanticipated. 

“You…” His raspy voice is almost too quiet for you to catch as he fights for each breath. “You fought well…Atreides.”

He slowly turns his head just far enough to have you in his sight. Even in death, Feyd-Rautha remains as menacing as the day you first met him. 

He has no words for you. He only bares that stupid, prideful, blackened smile that got him stabbed in the first place. 

You seem in a trance as you watch his body thud to the floor, looking as lifeless as the women on his bedroom floor back home. 

“Lisan-Al-Gaib!” A Fremen leader calls, breaking the silence as his people repeat after him.

Paul Atreides, Feyd-Rautha’s murderer, rises. He limps toward you and your family, prompting your sister to swiftly grab your free hand as the other slowly lowers from your lips. 

You had no love for Feyd-Rautha, nothing real. For him you experienced nothing that you should feel for a husband. Nevertheless, the tears flow all the same. 

"The life debt has been paid.” Irulan blurts, squeezing your hand as Paul nears you. “Spare my father and I will be your willing bride. The throne will be yours."

Her words snap you out of your haze, throwing you into the face of reality as it strikes you in the heart. 

"I'll take the hand of your daughter. She will remain safe and we will rule together over the empire." Paul declared.

In the span of seconds you imagine the moment a trillion different ways. If only he had nodded toward you, not Irulan.

‘Where is integrity?’ You wonder. 

Where is honor in sacrifice when you've given all you know to give and you still don't win. You can never seem to come out on top. You can never seem to be first…But your sister can, as she always does.

You snatch your hand away from your Irulan’s; Your eyes glued to your father, now kneeling, as rage grows within you. The rage of all of the rejection you've faced, the rage of all you have given to get to where you are, the rage of now wishing Feyd-Rautha had stuck Paul Atreides' head on a spike for all of Arrakis to see.

The rage of a Harkonnen.

[cutecatlov3r]

my character ai bots:

jjk:

gojo satoru:

his eyes r funny looking- now, you were laughing your ass off due to the fact that he took off his blindfold during a mission with a curse. you couldn’t help but laugh because he looked so stupidly serious.

wardrobe malfunction- as you walked out he stifled a laugh. “what the hell are ya wearin’?”

he’s annoying- he is so annoying. even in highschool he was unbearable to be around. you hated his annoying ass. but he loved being around you.

vampire au- “oh? the little princess is out of her kingdom? wanted to see me huh?” he teased, looking at her as she hangs upside down.

can’t get enough of him- you and gojo have been on and off since highschool. it’s like everytime you both break up you both just can’t get enough of each other…

your affair- even if you were married he still didn’t care. his feelings for you are deep. he loves you. no matter how many times you tell him you have to stop the little affair going on between you two, he simply doesn’t care

geto suguru:

dad’s best friend- “gonna be quiet like a good girl? or show your dad that you’re just a very bad girl?” he whispered in your ear. his voice deep and quiet, sending chills down your spine.

nanami kento:

healing ur daddy issues- “how’s my baby girl doing today hm?” he pat his lap, gently. “come here, sit.”

yu haibara:

he’s gone- “i’ll be back! don’t miss me too much!” he cheekily smiled. that damn smile… that would be the last time you’d ever see it again.

he’s sick- he coughs and pouts as he lays in his dorm room bed. he was squirming around, sweating and throwing his covers off him. he was currently sick, he was missing a mission that he wanted to go on so badly

he admires you- you disliked him because he followed you around like a lost puppy… he admired you, an upperclassman.

yuji itadori:

he’s delulu- meeting Itadori you didn’t expect him to be so clingy and so sweet to you. little did you know he has a huge crush on you, he is a bit obsessive but he doesn’t let you know that.

your parents hate him- the thing about him is that he is sometimes a bit dumb? he just doesn’t seem like a professional person so when your parents met him, they didn’t like him at all. but that never stopped you from loving him or the other way around

dorky best friend- currently though the two of you were on a mission, sharing a hotel room. he was in a white robe, swirling a glass of wine being dramatic. it was his first time wearing a robe and he wanted to be fancy, be in the moment like a dork.

shibuya arc- “im nothing but a murderer! i can’t forgive myself!” he cried. you stood there looking down at him. sukuna only took over his body for a minute and a lot things happened.

best boyfriend- currently, he was resting between your thighs as you both watch a movie, he used his arms to squish himself against his face some more. “i wouldn’t mind dying from suffocation if it’s with these”

gossiping w him- “HUH?! i need to hear about this, spill everything.” he said in a dramatic tone, joking.

captain of the football team-“hey, you comin’ to my game tonight? last one of the season, I need my lucky charm there to cheer for me.” he giggled, turning you around to face him, your back pressed against your locker.

older brother’s best friend- you were drunk off your ass at some party. yuji spotted you and immediately got on his feet to help you as you stumbled around. “are you okay? megumi is gonna kill you… I’ll get you home”

your his mentor- haibara and yuji had so many similarities. it hurt you to just look at yuji’s smile, being reminded of haibara who died back in your teenage years

he’s in love w you but you already have a boyfriend- yuji is no homewrecker but… currently you’ve stumbled on top of him while training him… he can’t help but think about how Yuta doesn’t deserve you. how Yuta is connected to the woman you used to be.

megumi fushiguro:

step brother- “tch. what the hell are you looking at?” he asked, scaring a guy that had his eyes on you.

yuta okkotsu:

he chose geto’s side- the day he met Geto he was nervous. Geto explained why he wants to kill everyone who isn’t a sorcerer. at the time he declined the offer to join him but later on he rethought his decision. he thought about his past. he left with Geto.

he likes when you hurt him- the two of you brawled for a bit, ending up with your knee on his back, pinning him down. one hand gripping his hair, the other hand pinning down his hand.

your a fan- gojo-sensei took you with him to greet the sorcerer that you’ve heard so much about. he was coming back from training abroad in Africa. you were excited.

helping the newbie- “hey not to be rude but do you not like me…? i feel the tension between us…” he mumbled, frowning slightly.

your other half- right now you both were walking together. he had something important to tell you, he was gonna be training in Africa in a few weeks. gojo-sensei told him he should tell you but he’s just been nervous

inumaki toge:

hajime kashimo:

noritoshi kamo:

guys I will be adding more soon, please leave some suggestions tho ! <3

[athenamikaelson]

Klaus Mikaelson x Soulmate!reader x Elijah Mikaelson Part 12

Warnings- 4.2k

Word Count- Swearing, violence, mentions of sex

“Is he my father or not,” My voice seems to echo throughout our family's little living room as I glare at my mother. 

“It’s not that simple, Y/N,” My mother raises her hands in surrender as she begins to take a step closer to me. The dark glare on my face seems to halt her movements and she closes her eyes and sighs.

“He’s the man that raised you, he-”

“You. Know. What. I. Mean,” I cut her off, biting out each of my words, “I want the truthful answer. Is Y/F/N Y/L/N my biological father?”

I seem to lose all the air in my chest as I watch my mother drop down onto the couch and look up at me with tears running down her face. And that’s all I need to have my answer.

“Oh my god,” I cover my mouth as my chest starts concaving on itself. Tears cloud my vision as I stare at my mother. Her tears mimicked my own. And a wave of anger flows through my body. She was crying as if she was the victim here. She was crying in front of her emotionally and physically wounded daughter as if this wasn’t her fault. 

I sit on the dark coffee table in front of my mother, our knees touching as I stare at her, “You’re going to tell me everything. And don’t even try lying to me.”

My mother looks up at me and nods as she puts her head in her hands, “Eighteen years ago your father and I were having problems. We’d been married 3 years and still couldn’t conceive. It took a toll on both of us. I got depressed and well… you know how your father gets when he is upset,” She looks up at me and I slightly nod as a wave of nausea passes over me, “Your father was out of town for the night and so I thought I would go down to a little bar outside of town. I was there for about an hour before I thought of leaving. But right when I was about to,” she pauses in thought for a moment then continues, “The most beautiful man I’d ever seen approached me. We talked throughout the night and then,” She looks at me to see if I understand where she was going and I nod disgusted.

“After I did what I had done I had never felt more disgusted with myself in my entire life. You have to believe me Y/N,” She reaches out to take my hand but I flinch away from her.

“Does Dad…or your husband know,” I ask but a part of me already knows the answer.

“When I fell pregnant with you soon after, you have to understand how happy your father was, I had never seen him that in love with something in the time I’d known him. You saved our marriage, Y/N. But… as you got older and you developed more of your own features and personality, neither of which were like me or him… I think your father realized or suspected that you weren’t his.”

My eyebrows furrow as I try to hold back my tears and sobs, “Is that why he…am I the reason he left?”

My question has my mother quickly shaking her head, “Your father and I had our own problems and even if it was because of that, it still isn’t your fault. He is still your father, he is the one who raised you.”

I stand up quickly, making sure not to move too much to upset my wounded arm, which is currently in a sling, and I huff out an angry laugh, “Raised me! Raised me?! I saw that man maybe once or twice a month for 16 years and in those few moments, all he caused was torture and heartbreak in my life. That man didn’t raise me! And looking at you now… I realize that you barely raised me too… I raised myself. Just like I’ve raised Theo,” I walk backward out of the living room as I shake my head at my mother, “I’ll never forgive you for this. Never.”

I hear my mother call out to me as I grab my keys and run out of the house. Rain pours down on me, dampening my clothes as I throw open my car door and turn it on. 

I drive around trying to decide my next move, and somehow I end up in the Salvatore’s driveway. 

I’m practically on auto-pilot as I walk up the stairs to the front door, I bring my hand up and knock, and within a moment it slams open and Damon stares down at me.

“What the hell do you…Y/N,” He pauses as he stares at my tear-filled eyes, “What happened? Are you hurt?”

I just stare at him and he takes a step forward and brings a hand to my arm. His touch seems to bring me out of my stupor and tears explode from my eyes as I throw myself into Damon’s arms. He doesn’t react for a moment as I cry into his shirt, but after a moment I feel his arms come and wrap around me.

“You want to…um, talk about it,” Damon asks quietly as if he’s not really sure how to comfort a teenage girl.

“My dad,” I hiccup out a sob, “Isn’t my dad!”

I feel Damon nod and he hums, “Um, sure, ok. Not entirely sure what that means,” He says the last part under his breath.

“I can’t go home. I can’t see my mom,” I pull away from Damon and I wipe the tears away from my face with my t-shirt sleeve.

Damon looks down at me for a moment before he turns sideways and gestures to the living room, “Then you’re going to stay here. For as long as needed.”

—

-2 months later-

“Hurry up hoe! This party isn’t going to decorate itself,” Caroline’s cheery voice calls up to me as I leave my bedroom at the Salvatore’s. 

“I’m coming Caroline, chill out,” I laugh to myself as I descend the stairs to where Caroline is standing. She shoots me a bright smile that rivals the sun when she sees me. 

“I can’t believe you’re still living here,” Caroline says as she grabs my hand and pulls me down the hall. 

I laugh awkwardly, “Ya, I guess I just like the bed here better than the one at my house.”

“And your mother really doesn’t care,” Caroline asks and I flinch at the mention of the woman I haven’t talked to in two months. 

“Um, ya. Theo’s away at some football camp until school starts and my mom’s always working so she doesn’t care.”

“You’re so lucky that you’re mom is so chill,” I laugh at the irony of that. My mom being “too chill” is the reason I’m not living at home right now. Caroline doesn’t know that though so she shoots me an odd look as she must’ve heard me laughing to myself.

After finding out about my paternal issues and moving in with Damon I made up a lie to all my friends that the reason I was living with him was that I needed a little vacation from my life, and not that I’m pissed off at my mom and scared to go home because it means I’ll have to face the reality of my life now. 

Damon is currently the only one who knows of my new “bastard” status. Even though sometimes I feel like strangling him, he has honestly been kind of a great friend these past two months. He’s gone along with my lie, not even telling Elena, who he is totally in love with. Damon and I have even started our own movie nights. Right now we’re bingeing the TV show Supernatural. He and I both like Dean, but our reasonings are a little different. God, I love Jensen Ackles. 

We’re postponing our movie night tonight because Caroline and I, mostly Caroline,  are throwing Elena her 18th birthday party. Elena told me to promise her that we wouldn’t make the party too big, but I kind of had to cross my fingers behind my back when I made that promise because when it comes to Caroline Forbes, no one will get in the way of her party making plans. 

“Good morning,” I look over to see the birthday girl smiling up at me as Caroline and I enter the living room. She and Tyler, who nods hello at me, are going through boxes upon boxes of party supplies.

“It’s 1 pm,” I say back to her and she frowns and checks her watch.

“Oh… Good afternoon then,” She laughs sheepishly.

I walk down the steps and bring her into a hug, “Happy birthday, Elena!”

I can hear Elena sigh and she pulls away from me, “Thank you,” Her vision goes from me to the boxes surrounding us, “I thought you said this was going to be lowkey?”

It’s my turn to smile sheepishly at her as I gesture towards Caroline, who is currently bitching to Tyler about hanging a streamer wrong, “You try getting in the way of her planning something. I love you Elena, but I’m more scared of her.”

Elena turns to look at Caroline as well and we both cringe when she hits Tyler over the head with a hard plastic plate.

“Good point,” Elena whispers out. 

—

“I feel like I have to fight Damon every single time we get a lead on Stefan,” Elena’s complaints have me side-eyeing both Caroline and her. I try to busy myself with unraveling some string lights, trying not to seem suspicious in any manner. I’m the only one here who knows really just how much Damon knows about Stefan’s “activities” this summer. 

About 3 weeks ago I found the articles about Stefan and he who shall not be named in Damon’s closet when I was going through Damon’s things. He’d gone through my things so I thought I’d return the favor. 

When Damon found out I knew he made me promise to keep it to myself. Only he, myself, and Ric could know. Damon didn’t want to worry Elena about all the killing Stefan had been doing. So “The Squad,” as I like to call us, have been researching different “animal killings” around the US this summer. Unfortunately, Damon and Ric won’t let me go on any of the road trips with them so I’ve been stuck at the Salvatore house this summer. 

“Maybe he doesn’t wanna find him,” Tyler’s comment makes me cringe slightly at the irony.

“Tyler!”

“What? He’s into you. Isn’t he” He asks Elena.

“The only reason Stefan left with Klaus was so that he could save Damon’s life,” Elena explains as she takes the supplies Tyler handed her, “I mean, trust me Damon wants to find him.”

You have no idea.

“But…you kissed him. Probably screwed with his head,” Tyler says and Caroline and Elena whip around to look at him while I hover a hand over my mouth to keep me from giggling. I’ve made fun of both Elena and Damon on multiple occasions this summer about the “kiss of death,’’ as I like to call it. 

“Tyler,” Caroline exclaims and Elena shoots her an “Are you serious” look. 

“I’m sorry,” Caroline apologies wholeheartedly. 

Elena raises her hand and shakes it, “I…Don’t worry about it. Look, yes, I kissed him, but it was a…”

“Kiss of death,” I say under my breath, but Elena still hears me and shoots me a glare.

“It was a goodbye kiss. I thought he was gonna die,” She tries to explain herself but Tyler shoots me a look and I have to fight off a laugh.

Elena fishes her phone out of her pocket, “I just missed a call from Bonnie,” She says.

At the mention of my witch friend, I perk up, “Tell her I say hi!”

Elena nods in agreement as she leaves the room. As soon as she goes, Caroline groans and whips around to stare at the werewolf.

“Just because I tell you things, doesn’t mean you’re allowed to know them,” She exclaims at him to which he apologizes. 

“I gotta run if I’m gonna change and pick up Sophie in time,” He says as he waves goodbye to me.

“Wait, you’re bringing a date? Slutty Sophie is your date,” Caroline asks and I frown at the nickname she gave her.

“Hey,” Tyler turns around, “It’s been kinda slow in that department. And… I’m horny all the time now.”

“Ya, tell me about it. Sometimes I feel like I’m gonna explode” Caroline agrees and I gag out loud.

“Ok, has no one here ever heard of too much information,” I say as I make a show of covering my ears. I go back to decorating trying to block out the obvious sexual tension between the vampire and wolf as they talk about their sex lives, or lack of. 

“Bye Y/N,” Tyler’s voice calls out to me and I just wave him off, which makes him laugh.

I turn around and watch Tyler walk out of the room and then I turn to my blonde friend, “Well, that was painful to watch…and hear.”

Caroline groans and throws the cups she has in her hands back onto the table in front of us, “Tell me about it. I just…ugh, I don’t know,” She groans in annoyance again as she picks up some streamers and tape.

“Can we talk about something else, please?”

I laugh slightly at her pleading tone and nod, “Sure, what about?”

Caroline thinks for a moment before turning to me and smirking, “About the guy you’re bringing tonight.”

I roll my eyes at the insinuation in her voice, “It’s not like that at all. Alastair is a work friend. He’s new to town and I thought he could use some more friends.”

“Is he cute,” She raises her eyebrows suggestively and I shoot her a look.

“Some might say that but I’m not into him like that, and he’s definitely not into me like that either,” I respond.

“And how would you know that,” She questions.

I think back to all the times I’ve seen him ogling the male customers at work and smile to myself, “Just a hunch.”

“When did you meet the guy again?”

“Around the start of the summer when I started working at The Grill. He got a job right after me and we’ve been put on the same schedules at pretty much the same times, oddly enough. He moved from Louisana, I believe.”

Caroline nods, “And he doesn’t know about…you know what?”

I shake my head, “As far as I can tell he’s a perfectly normal NON-supernatural guy.”

“Unlike Elijah right,” I glare at Caroline because of her comment which only makes the smirk on her face deepen.

“And unlike Tyler, right,” I smirk back at her and we both drop the subject on both of those men. Caroline got the jist about my little “friendship” or whatever it was with Elijah when she, Elena, and I, accidentally got into Jenna’s wine supply a few weeks ago. He also told me about her confusing feelings about Tyler. 

“Okay fine, changing the subject again,” She thinks to herself before frowning and looking at me, “Wait…when did you say your birthday was again?”

I frown at the question, “I didn’t say it.”

Caroline shoots her hands up in the air like a mad woman, “Well then tell me, hoe!”

I fight back a groan at her question and I don't want to answer but knowing Caroline she won’t stop bringing it up unless I tell her, “It was a few weeks ago.”

Caroline stares at me in shock as she drops the streams she currently holding. A wee bit dramatic might I add. 

“Excuse me! Why didn’t you tell anyone,” She practically screeches at me.

I shrug as I go back to untangling the lights I’ve been working on, “Elena has asked but I always just brush it off. Damon also knows, but he doesn’t celebrate birthdays either so I didn’t have to worry about him throwing me a party.”

Caroline’s eyes practically fall out of her head at my words, “So you did absolutely nothing for your birthday!?”

I just shake my head as if it’s nothing, “I don’t ever celebrate my birthday, Care. I haven't in years… I mean Damon and I had a pizza night, but other than that, no not really.”

Caroline continues to stare at me in shock as she comes over to me and throws her hands onto my shoulders, “Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N I solemnly swear I will be throwing you a huge 18th birthday party very soon. And it will make you change your mind about not celebrating.”

I go to argue but she puts a finger to my lips, “Hush hoe. I’ve already started planning in my head.”

Someone kill me now.

—

“Well, don't you just look Darling,” Damon's sarcastic voice sounds from behind me as I flatten out my dark blue dress. 

I turn around and see him wearing the same color top, “We’re matching!”

Damon looks at his top and then the color of my dress and groans, “You really need to move out. We’re starting to become the same person.”

I frown slightly at his comment and I think he notices because he clears his throat, “That was a joke, Pukey. You practically have already made this entire place yours I doubt you’re moving out anytime soon.”

“And yet you still won’t let me paint the walls,” I gesture to the wooden walls of my bedroom. 

Damon shoots me a glare as he raises his arm for me to take, “The wood on these walls costs more than some of the houses in this town. I’d rather die than let you paint them.”

I walk over and grab his arm and he leads me out of my room and down the hall where I can hear dozens of people yelling and music blaring.

“Did you find anything about-” Damon shushes me before I can finish my sentence.

“No talk about that tonight. Only happy drunk thoughts tonight,” I want to argue but I notice the tension in his shoulders and drop the topic for a later time. 

“Where’s the birthday girl?”

Damon slightly glares at the young teens that surround us, “With Blondey. Somewhere.”

“Y/N!”

The sound of someone calling my name has me turning around. I smile once I’ve found the caller. Alastair’s bright smile shines at me as he pushes through the hordes of people. His dark skin contrasts beautifully with the white button-up shirt he’s wearing. Dark slacks cover his long legs and I have to fight back a laugh at how put together he looks compared to the rest of the people around us who look like they picked out the first piece of clothing they could find in their closets.  

Alastair slightly grabs me out of Damon’s arms and brings me into a hug, “You look beautiful.” 

His compliment makes a warm feeling coat my cheeks as I look at him. “You don't look so bad yourself,” And I’m not lying either. He’s shaved down his hair again since the last time I saw him so he’s rocking a buzz cut that makes him appear even more striking and his dark brown eyes sparkle against the bright lights that Caroline and I had previously hung up around the house. 

“I fear I might’ve overdone it a bit. It has been awhile since I’ve been to a highschool party” He jokes as he gestures toward his attire.

“You think,” Damon’s sarcastic tone has me turning to glare at him.

“Alastair this is Damon,” I gesture to the man beside me.

Alastair who is usually all smiles seems to glare at the vampire next to me for a moment before brightly smiling at him, “Pleasure to meet you, Damon.”

Damon just stares at him for a moment, “Y/N lives here with me. So if I find you in her room later I will kill you,” He threatens and then shoots him a fake smile, “Other than that, enjoy the party.”

My eyes practically fly out of my head as I watch Damon’s retreating figure leave the room and I quickly turn back to Alastair to apologize.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s good he’s protective over you,” He smiles at me and reaches out his hand for me to take, “Want to get a drink?”

“Oh definitely,” I sigh dramatically as I put my hand in his. 

We start walking but I catch Alastair and a blonde guy staring at each other as we walk by him. I smirk to myself and then look up to my friend with a raised eyebrow.

“Not a word,” He laughs out.

“I didn’t say anything!”

Alastair rolls his eyes as we approach the refreshments table and he hands me a bottle of water and I shoot him a questioning look.

“We’re so not drinking whatever is in that punch. Who knows if someone spiked it with something? Water is a safe choice,” I begin to laugh thinking he’s joking but at the serious look on my friend’s face I stop.

“A little worried are you?”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a little cautious,” He opens up my bottle of water for me and smiles, “Also what’s with the text I got from your blonde friend this afternoon about you having a birthday party?”

I groan loudly and I can hear Alastair laugh, “How did she even get your number?”

He shrugs his shoulders, “I’d like to know as well,” He looks down at me for a moment then frowns, “You really didn’t tell anyone about your birthday?”

I just shrug, “I told Damon. But other than that no. I don’t celebrate it, and whatever Caroline is planning you definitely don’t have to come.”

Alastair shakes his head defiantly, “Oh you bet your ass I’ll be there. Going to get you a pretty present with a bow and everything.”

I put my head in my hands and sighed, “I hate you.”

Alastair laughs and takes my hands away from my face, “You love me and now you’re going to dance with me.”

I’m surprised at the strength of my friend as he leads me to the dance floor that's filled with teens dancing and grinding together.

“You sure you don’t want to go and find that blonde guy,” I yell to him over the music and he rolls his eyes.

“You’re stuck with me, babe. I’m not going anywhere” 

—-

“Call me if you need anything alright,” Alastair says to me as I walk him to his car. After dancing for about an hour the party started to die down when people couldn’t find the hostess or the birthday girl. 

“I’m going to see you tomorrow at work. I think I’ll be fine until then,” I smile at him as he gets into his car.

“I know, just making sure you know you can call me for anything,” He says through his open window as he starts his car.

“I know.”

“Ok, I’ll wait for you to get back inside before leaving,” He nods towards the front door.

“Ok, bye,” I wave to him and start walking to the front door, I turn to look over my shoulder and find that he hasn’t taken his focus off me for a second it makes me unnerved but I shake it off and open the front door. 

As soon as I step a foot inside I hear the squealing of tires and I turn to see Alastair peeling out of the driveway. Guess someone’s in a rush.

I walk into the living room and sigh as I see the damage that was done by the hordes of kids. Bottles and trash line the walls as streamers and the decorations we had worked so hard to put up are lying all around the floor. I start to walk down the steps to start picking up when a loud bang comes from upstairs. 

I frown as I start walking towards the stairs, but as soon as I hear another loud bang I start running. I find myself in front of Damon’s bedroom as I watch the vampire throw and break anything he can get his hands on. I call out to him but he seems to be in his own world of destruction right now. I start to approach him like someone would a rabid animal and I freeze as he turns to look at me. Dark veins appear under his eyes as he glares at me. He starts walking towards me and I put up my hands.

“Damon, what’s wrong? What happened,” He gets closer and I’m about to run off but he grabs me. I shriek escapes my mouth before I realize what he's doing. He's hugging me.

“Damon? What’s wrong,” I slowly wrap my hands around his waist as he holds me tighter. Almost tight enough to bruise, “What happened?”Damon is quiet for a moment before he whispers out a growl, “Stefan.”

[jenscx]

ATTENTION 60 — attention (half-written)

the other girls had gone to get ice cream, leaving just you and minji on the sandy beach. the outing was suggested by danielle and somehow you were dragged into it as well. you wiped your clammy hands on the mat below you, leaning your head onto minji’s shoulder. the girl softened at your touch and placed her head onto yours.

slowly, your hand reached for hers, intertwining your fingers together as you watched the sunset. you were sufficiently tired out. hyein had managed to make you chase her around the beach the whole day, draining your energy. even after chasing hyein, you were forced to swim with hanni and danielle, discussing the newest idol drama shows. and after that, you had an intense debate with haerin about dogs and cats. safe to say, you were ready to pass out. minji had brought you to the shore, laying a mat out and bringing fruit juice to you.

“yn unnie, are you sleepy?” minji mumbles. your eyelids fluttered open, eyes crinkling into a smile and nodding.

“yeah, hyein tired me out so much.”

minji scoffs, laughing, “it’s not too late to back out.”

you frown, pinching her arm, “don’t say that, jinnie. i won’t leave you so easily.”

“why won’t you?”

“because i love you, minji. what type of question is that?” you ask, suddenly straightening up. minji winces, sighing and untangling your fingers from hers.

“i treated you like shit, unnie. i still don’t understand why you forgave me. seriously, if i were you, i would have never gave myself a second chance,” minji says, running her fingers through her hair, “i guess, i’m still unsure why you still want me.”

your gaze softens. to be frank, you had no idea why you forgave her either. if it was anyone else that came back begging, you would have gotten a restraining order and more.

“do i need a reason?” minji nods. “because you’re kim minji,” you place a hand on her cheek, caressing it softly, “we all make mistakes, especially since it’s our first. you’ve already apologised, why should i delay my happiness any longer?”

“but… unnie, i admitted to wanting to hurt you.”

you smile, “i know. and i still forgive you, because i’ve had those same thoughts before. when you came to talk things out, i was tempted to make you chase after me. but i don’t gain anything out of that.”

minji still looks unsure, uncertainty filling her eyes as she continues, “how could you have trusted me so easily?”

“can it be called love if there aren’t any risks? i was willing to risk my feelings and security to be with you, minji. in every universe, i’ll do the same. i gave you the benefit of doubt then, to enjoy every day after with you. i have no idea why i forgive you either, maybe it’s because you’re minji. maybe it was fate that brought you back to me. but do the reasons matter, when i have you in my arms again?”

the soft sounds of the waves crashing at the shore fade into the back. there’s no distinct chatter anymore. it’s just you and minji, staring at each other. her hair swirls in the wind, eyebrows furrowed as she takes in your every word. it’s moments like this that you gave up your guard for. you think about all the memories you shared with minji. it was all worth it.

“i can’t say that i’ve given myself to you completely, but just know i’m halfway there. let me be your other half for now,” you whisper, “to complete you.”

minji groans, “you can’t say these type of things. it makes me feel… i don’t know, feelings?”

“i make you feel feelings?” you grin, admiring the blush that slowly spreads across minji’s cheeks.

“yes?”

“that’s good,” you take minji’s hands into yours, “since you make me feel feelings too.”

your girlfriend smiles, one filled with affection. she brings your hands to her lips, placing one single kiss on them.

“i won’t let you regret your choice, ever.”

you feel warmth bubble inside you. your heart feels full. full of love and adoration.

“i’ll never make you feel that way ever again.” another kiss.

“i’ll give you my everything. my love, my patience, my body, soul, my heart. i’ll give you all my attention.” she leaves one more kiss on your hands, staring up at you with hooded eyes. you receive her signal, smirking and pulling her in for minji to place a final kiss on your lips.

masterlist | next

TAGS ! @ky-yk @urmom2314 @nasyu-kookies @limbforalimb @yoontoonwhs @be0mluver @lesleepyyy @eunhhh @edamboon @sewiouslyz @haerinfangs @impossiblesharkcashrebel @mightymyo @dexthzone @pandafuriosa60 @dmndtears @awkwardtoafault @hyehae @haerinkisser @chaerybae @yukianism @urwyf3 @manooffline @yerisdumbass @jeindall777 @jiwoneiric @justme-idle @imthisclosetokms

[wlwprker]

please don’t leave s.r. x gn! reader [2]

part 1

a/n: as promised, part 2 is here! u hope you guys enjoyed <3

warnings: some light swearing, brief mentions of injuries + a case minimal proofreading, apologize for spelling + grammar mistakes!

summary: after a rough case, you were rushed to the hospital and spencer is upset but it runs deeper than just a worried friend…

wc: 624

“can you stay a little longer?” you asked quietly.

spencer was upset with you because you put yourself in danger, but when you’re looking at him with those pleading eyes and apologetic smile with bandages all over you, he visibly softens, and he can’t say no.

he doesn’t think he can ever say no to you.

“i’ll stay for as long as you need”, spencer said softly as he began to sit in a chair, but you grabbed his wrist.

spencer is lost in thought as he stares at you and thinks back to how you got injured and he wasn’t with you. you could have faced a worse fate if he wasn’t there. the sound of metal hitting skin and the sound of a thud keep him up at night.

when he thinks back to how he found you in a dark room on the floor, unconscious, his heart nearly sank, and your unconscious body lying on the floor, it’s enough to drive him into insanity.

your soft voice tears him away from his thoughts. he blinks them away and looks back at you.

“why are you so upset with me?”you questioned softly, and spencer knew he couldn’t avoid the topic any longer. he sighed before he held your hand and looked into your eyes.

“you put yourself in danger and the thought of possibly losing you… was driving me fucking crazy”, spencer said and your eyes softened, a sense of understanding passing over you.

“i’m sorry i didn’t mean to scare you like that…” you trailed off but spencer shook his head.

“i just worry about you alot, and if there was more i could have done and if i lost you, i would never forgive myself”, spencer said and you looked him in the eyes trying to get him to understand that it’s okay.

you were alive and well but there was something else he wasn’t saying, you know spencer and you know when there’s something he’s hiding or not saying.

“spill”, you said and he looked at you with furrowed brows but when you shot him a look that said “c’mon” he knew that nothing gets past you.

“i love you and..”

you cut him off with a smile. “i love you too what is this..”

“no, i am in love with you. hopelessly in love with you, that’s why losing you scared the shit out of me, you don’t need to answer me…” spencer admitted searching your eyes for any discontentment but he found no trace of it, just the same soft look that you only look at him with.

“i’m in love with you, too, spence”, you admitted and his eyes lit up as he gently grabbed your face, basking in the moment of your admission and just seeing you alive.

“when i’m back on my feet and we aren’t chasing a killer, do you want to go on a date?”, you asked and spencer brushed his thumbs against your cheek in a soft circular motion.

“i would love to but you have to promise me one thing.”

you nodded encouraging him to continue as you saw the serious look on his face.

“please don’t leave me; i cannot bear losing you.”

you grabbed his face and pecked his lips.

“i promise, i’m not going anywhere,"  you said. 

he sighed in relief, and the tension had left the hospital room in a flash, as if it were never there.

promises of the both of you never leaving each other and the feeling of spencer’s arms around you as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear until you drifted off to sleep were the only sounds heard in your hospital room. 

it was the best you’ve slept in months.