These are the chains of yesterday
I tried so hard to numb the pain
Wipe the tears away
It's too much to take
But I...
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ok girls who are wizards isofficially my favorite song evr now
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Ayel 1
Summary: A day of you socializing has left Ayel more than a little needy. Asking was too much for him, instead he…presented himself in a way that said what he wanted.
(His name shall be Ayel. Also a little reminder that I am asexual, so my way of writing smut will be different. And yaaaay I’m sharing my smut writing!)
You truly are an admirable sight to him. No matter the envious eyes, no matter venom that spills from the glossy lips of others, you continue to stand tall. A brilliant sun, unable to be ignored, who’s presence fills the room the minute you walk into it.
What Ayel loves most is that your smiles, the ones that show in moments of calm and peace, are reserved for him. The ones you give to others, to these strangers that know not of close relations other than what can benefit them, were more a show of confidence. Ayel knows you were aware of your status as someone untouchable. Unbreakable even.
That strength, Ayel shamefully admits to himself how much he wants it to pin him down.
“Ayel?” You called, not turning. You didn’t have to.
Ayel felt his mouth quiver as he stuffs a yearning breath down. He was right by your side within moments. He placed a hand over his heart as he bows below your gaze. If he meets your eyes, Ayel knows his face will flush.
“Yes?” The group you were talking to went silent. They stared at him, at his clothes, at his face. Ayel was quite used to this, but they weren’t your eyes.
“We’re leaving.” Ah, this conversation of platitudes has come to an end. So abruptly too. Have they insulted you in some manner? Or perhaps you were bored?
“Of course.” And Ayel made the mistake of looking at you. He couldn’t help himself, having your visage within his sight never failed to fill his heart with soft, tender feelings. Never failed to make heat crawl up his back.
Ayel made sure to haul up the fastest carriage possible. When he closed the door behind him, Ayel untucked his shirt, grabbed your hand, and slide it up his stomach.
Ayel tightly gripped your back, wrinkling your clothes as he shoved his face into your shoulder. A pathetic, whimpering moan slipped past his lips as he shuffled closer to you, pressing his leaking cock right against your thighs. He doesn’t move. He can’t. You won’t let him, not with the way your holding him.
Your palm massages the meat of his hips, holding him back while you skimmed your fingers over his outer thighs. Ayel shivered and twitched. He bit down on your clothing when you shifted in your seat. You pulled him in, forcing him to press tight against your stomach.
“No,” Ayel whispered out, almost mumbling as he feels himself leave a slick trail on your shirt, “I’ll—your clothes.”
He’ll dirty them and yet he still clung to you.
You let go of his hips. Ayel practically sang when you dragged your nails down his thighs.
“Come on,” you hummed into his flushed ear, popping a kiss over his sweaty cheek, “you’re more important than my clothing. Let me take care of you, alright?”
How could Ayel say no?
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