#Dense Fog Alert | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

headlines-headlines · 1 year ago

Text

NEVER-ENDING FOREST.

𝐆𝐢𝐲𝐮𝐮 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐤𝐚 𝐱 𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐫! 𝐟! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫.

★ 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲! Ubuyashiki sends you and Tomioka on an important mission. However, you both need to get... creative... to fulfill your task and make it back in one piece.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! female bodied reader, smut, intoxication (sex dust), fingering, pet name use (baby), rough + raw sex, creampie.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.3k words...

𝐚/𝐧: i had the bright idea of Tomioka turning into lowk a soft dom with the help of an aphrodisiac ;^). enjoy! (divider: @cafekitsune)

"Be well my children, please return to us safely," Master Ubuyashiki replied, dismissing the two Pillars in front of him to begin their journey down to the Garment District.

"Yes master, of course," You answered, both you and Tomioka rising from your deep bows.

Currently, at the Ubuyashiki estate, you, [L/n] [F/n], and Tomioka Giyuu, were summoned by Master Ubuyashiki due to a troubling alert from a village near the Demon Slayer headquarters. The threat entailed a demon who wiped out several smaller villages nearby, each in the span of a night, simply with the ability to reduce multitudes of people into a trance-like state. This time, it found its way to a larger village crucial to the garment supply for the Demon Slayer headquarters, already devastating a handful of other closely connected communities.

Many slayers were dispatched in earlier stages of the threat, but none have returned from their missions. The common result was dismembered slayers deep within the forest, or locals dropping dead to the ground from sheer exhaustion first, before being eaten unconsciously. Villages would report signs of a sweet-smelling scent and barely translucent fog emanating from deep in the forest, with even slight ingestion of it causing overwhelming heat and physical excitement. It was a tricky task, not only wiping out a notorious demon but fighting an invisible foe, its blood demon art.

It was decided that two Pillars, close in rank would go investigate the issue and dispose of the threat immediately before the demon made its appearance by nightfall. Knowing you were already acquainted with your fellow Pillar, Ubuyashiki decided Tomioka's calm and calculated attitude complimented your quick initiative and undying drive. Over the past few months, you had begun to bring him out of his isolated shell. By befriending him, it led him to open up more, having a noticeable effect on the other Pillars as well. Leave it to Light Pillar [F/n]'s radiating beauty, and soft, bubbly demeanor to finally melt his cold exterior.

This was not the first mission the two of you have gone on, however. A similar, and even longer tactical mission preceded this one, so naturally, you held no qualms about working with Tomioka once more. He was super thoughtful and charming, albeit a bit quiet, but never gave you any glaring issues to worry about. Despite you both bumping heads from time to time due to your more extroverted personality, Tomioka came to appreciate the friendly dynamic you shared.

Exiting the premises, your eyes pointed to the sky, watching both of your crows circle around each other before calling out to you, directing your path. At your side, Giyuu set a brisk pace while you matched him, turning back to wave a cheery "Goodbye!" to a few of the other Pillars gathered at the gate to send you off.

You were prepared to complete your duty as a Pillar, ending the incessant destruction of the Smoke demon that hid in the forest.

• • •

It was 30 minutes before midnight, the exact time when the first waves of translucent fog would start to seep into the village. After reserving temporary lodging, you and Tomioka had gone into the forest, listening for the hissing whispers that would urge locals and Slayers alike deeper into the looming trees and dense foliage. The demon would coax its victims into the darkness, promising their sweetest desires whilst intoxicating them with smoke. By the time they would reach the owner of the voice, it would be too late. The once straight path would become eternally long, with no discernible way out. One would have already lost control of their limbs and basic motor functions, unable to fight back, or even tear their eyes away from the horrifying sight of a ravenous demon.

The plan was to entrap the smoke demon during its preparations to disperse the poison. The safety of the villagers came first, so eliminating the demon's ability to use its blood art was key. After locating it, you were to disable and behead the demon without casualties and make it out of the supposed never-ending forest. You and Tomioka concealed your breathing techniques in order to mask your presence, diving straight into combat from the shadows. You watched as the figure of a woman morphed into a creature built from the forest terrain. It was a disfigured humanoid shape, with vines slithering up her body, full of flowers you assumed held the contents of that sweet-smelling fog. By catching it off guard, you were able to render quick slices with your blade along her limbs, severing not only the flowers but whatever body part was unlucky enough to be underneath.

Your attack proved to be effective, but not without consequences. Instead of regenerating a new limb, the gaping hole swole up with a giant flower, shooting its mist directly into your face, and throwing you several meters back. Breathing it in so densely almost paralyzed your lungs from shock. You coughed and sputtered, as you hit the ground. Driving your sword into the dirt, you steadied yourself to rise to your feet, keeping a faint eye out for any further strikes, but watched as Tomioka swooped in to sever the newly formed appendage. It caught on, sending a few puffs of smoke his way as he effortlessly weaved between them, closing the distance. Finally finding an opening, Tomioka drove his nichirin sword into the shoulder of the demon, using his water-breathing form to slice across, effectively taking its head off its shoulders. However, hoping to make a grand exit, the demon's fallen limbs burst into smoke, shrouding the area with airborne poison before vaporizing. Tomioka had already taken a heavy couple of breaths before slamming his haori to his nose, trying to prevent further smoke inhalation.

"Curse you Slayers... I would have torn apart your headquarters by now... if it weren't for your meddling swordsmen," The demon spat, choking bitterly from being beheaded.

Her body began to burn and vaporize underneath the bright moonlight, the poisonous secretions from her skin dispersing into the air. There was soon nothing left of her, not even the long, extravagant, robes she adorned herself with.

Tomioka's chest heaved from fatigue, drops of sweat running down his temple. He watched sternly as all traces of the demon disappeared, before releasing a long exhale. It was now eerily quiet, the long assault finally over. You both had succeeded, protecting a village from total annihilation once more.

Before getting a chance to celebrate, he felt a certain light-headedness seize him, forcing him to take a step back to regain his balance. The mist that was now vanishing had managed to up the temperature of the surrounding area by a few degrees. It was a little unnerving, but he realized you both would have to endure whatever effects may result from ingesting various amounts of the demon's blood art. It was non-lethal, with the worst side effect reported to be dropping unconscious. He would stay in close proximity to you for the rest of the night, deciding it was better to monitor your reaction since you took most of the damage.

Pulling himself together, he turned his attention to you in the distance.

You stood several feet away, hunched over, unable to move as the stiffening heat encased every fiber of your being.

Your knees buckled underneath you as you felt your body's heat intensify. There was a sinister warmth pooling between your legs and shooting up your spine. You knew it was too late to hope to reverse the demon's blood art, so you doubled down, deciding to bear it. You tried your best to steady your breath as you sank to the ground, your heartbeat hammering in your ribcage while the effects of the fog settled into your body.

"[F/N]!" Giyuu's strained voice called out to you, regardless if you could hear him or not. He had missed most of the demon's final smoke attack, but started to feel his chest tighten at the sight of you on your knees, breathing heavily. He was nearly exhausted making his way over to you, but after seeing you ingest so much smoke, there was nothing more important in this moment than making sure you were okay. He would get you out of here safely if it was the last thing he did. Protecting you was the final part of his mission.

It was then as if the temperature of the area skyrocketed. As Tomioka approached you, the air grew thick, and time slowed down as everything grew hazy around him. He could only really hear how hard he was breathing, and his focus was lasered in on your figure, wanting to make it to you as quickly as possible. As his footsteps grew closer, you hurriedly outstretched your arm towards him, aiming to halt his advances.

"No! Don't come any closer!" You cried out, panicking because you knew what was happening to you. This poison... resembled the effects of an aphrodisiac, however, almost hundreds of times more potent than a natural one. You didn't want to embarrass yourself in front of your fellow Pillar, the state you were in could put you both in a very compromising position. Regardless, Tomioka ignored your warning and pushed on, soon dropping to his knees with a 'thud' at your lefthand side.

"Are you alright?!" His sturdy hands came up to grip your shoulders, a worried expression all over his face. "Do you feel anything?" He questioned you.

Your body felt hot all over, and his touches were scalding, you needed him away from you before it was too late. You tried to turn away from him, avoiding his eyes, but his grip was unwavering, holding you in place.

"Get away from me. ...Please Giyuu," you quietly begged him, unable to explain what was making you so flustered. You brought a hand to his chest, slightly pushing him away to maintain your distance. A shade of pink dusted your cheeks as you felt his eyes scan your body, examining you so closely.

"Not until you tell me what's happening," he insisted, suddenly fixated on the way your chest heaved as you took in deep breaths.

"It's just, really, really hot," you half-lied. A light layer of sheen was starting to gather on your forehead, and you reached up to unbutton the first few buttons of your collar.

"Here, take this off," He insisted, quickly reaching over to slide off your haori, and placing your sword with it on the ground next to you. His haori joined yours as he too, tried to escape the heat creeping up his legs, spine, and into his face and chest.

You fanned yourself to no avail, closing your eyes to ignore the growing pulsating feeling of your nether regions. Taking off your haori proved to be useless, as you expected. You would do almost anything to relieve this maddening sensation all over your body and just prayed that Giyuu was in a better position than you right now. What good would it do if you were both like this? You couldn't help but let your mind wander, giving an inkling of attention to the idea of how you both could help each other out.

"I feel like... it's getting worse," Giyuu interrupted your thoughts, his breaths becoming more and more labored as seconds passed on. He scanned the area looking for any signs of life before it hit him that the never-ending forest path you two were stuck in must've been tied to the demon's blood art as well. Although the demon's life had been taken, and all effects should have ceased by now, it still persisted, locking the both of you in a trance-like state, still affecting your perception of your surroundings. Until it wore off, there was no escape for either of you.

His eyes darted back to you, still full of concern. If he was unable to get you both out of here, he could at least find some way to help you.

"[F/n]. You need to tell me what you're feeling, maybe there's a way to reverse this. But, I don't... I don't remember there being an antidote...," Giyuu was unable to piece any of his thoughts together. It was starting to become increasingly difficult to concentrate on anything at all. Anything other than how... how beautiful you looked right now. Your eyes were trained on the ground, but he still lingered on the way your lashes fluttered open and closed. And the way your pretty lips were agape, sucking in short breaths. Your quiet whimpers triggered something sleeping deep within him, with the sound of your voice making his dick twitch to life in his uniform.

'It can't be....,' a very suggestive thought flickered in Giyuu's mind as he started to vaguely grasp what he was feeling. If the effects of the poison turned out to be what he thought it was, it would be an embarrassingly long amount of hours before the two of you made it out of this forest.

"It's the blood demon art... it's supposed to make you...," You trailed off, unable to finish your sentence. You were starting to not trust your own voice. You didn't even know what to say. You couldn't bring yourself to tell him, 'by the way Tomioka, this might be sex dust. we're supposed to start fucking to get rid of it.' Poor dude probably thinks there's an antidote somewhere. Unbeknownst to you, it just clicked in his brain what he needed to do. And as the water Pillar, it was his duty to do what he must to protect others. Especially a friend like you, a beautiful swordswoman at his side.

"It's alright, we can figure this out. I just need you to trust me." He cut you off calmly, moving behind you and leaning against a tree a couple of inches away.

"Huh? What're you...," you started, squeaking as Giyuu pulled your back taught to his chest in a tight embrace, knees on either side, effectively trapping you. Reaching around to your front, he began indiscriminately popping open the rest of the buttons to your uniform jacket. You were only in your bindings underneath, which barely held up after the intense fight with the demon. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, the way he was glued to your backside. You knew the effects of the aphrodisiac had finally caught up to him, feeling him clench his teeth as his jaw was pressed to your temple. He slipped your jacket off, adding it to the pile of discarded clothes on the ground.

"Hold on!" You wailed, nervousness choking you up completely. What was he doing? There was no way the quiet, stone-cold Giyuu Tomioka would participate in such erotic acts, even if it meant failing to return from a mission. You honestly didn't even think he had it in him to be so boldly sexual. You underestimated the level of carnal lust he had been holding back, simply to not disturb the peace of your friendship.

"I know I can help you, [f/n]. Forgive me," He exhaled, propping a finger under your chin to tilt your head back up toward him. His eyes were a shade darker, but you could see the traces of concern and desperation etched into his features. He leaned forward to lock his lips with yours, snaking a hand behind your head to nestle in your hair. His lips were soft and warm as he kissed you. You hesitated but moved your lips in sync as his tongue licked your bottom lip. Your mouth parted almost immediately, allowing his tongue to enter, tangling with yours. His tongue pushed into your mouth, hotly sucking on yours as he lightly moaned into the kiss. Seconds later, he pulled away with a quiet exhale, drinking in the sight of you with your face flushed and lips now swollen and pink.

"These need to come off though," he sighed with disapproval, motioning towards your feet.

A hand slid down your leg, lifting it up to slip off your Geta sandal. Reaching over to your other leg, he popped off your remaining shoe.

"Are those...?" his breath was caught in his throat as he trailed his hands up your legs and lifted up your skirt, revealing the thigh-high socks you wore under your uniform.

You groaned as you felt Giyuu's palms slide over the tops of your thighs and slip underneath your uniform skirt, hands finding their way to the cotton material of your socks.

"And definitely these too..." He sighed by your ear, his voice so deep it almost held a growl.

Your breath hitched as you felt two thumbs hook under your socks, intent on pushing them down your legs. Even in your hazy, lust-drunken state, you realized your socks were still connected to your panties by thin garter clips. By pulling your socks down, he could end up pulling your already-soaked panties down with them. Your resolve was already crumbling in this compromising position, but the risk of being exposed would shatter it completely. You were fighting off this 'poison' the best you could, but Tomioka's heated breath right next to your ear and slowly hardening length against the curve of your ass wasn't making it any easier.

"G-Giyuu! Enough! 'Hng... you- you can't!" You panted frantically. Your hands wrapped around and strained against both of his wrists, heart thumping wildly as you watched him struggle to inch your socks down.

"Just... Just let me take these off. You're overheating," Giyuu breathed, lowering his chin into the crook of your right shoulder. "It'll make you feel better... I can make you feel better."

Despite his nonchalant demeanor, Tomioka found himself somehow falling deeper and deeper into intoxication, the remnants of the perfumed poison wafting off of you in sickly sweet-smelling waves. He couldn't help but inhale your scent deeply, quickly becoming addicted to it. His eyes were low, clouded in a dark lust as he felt his self-control splintering the more you pressed up against him, trying to preserve your dignity and hide your embarrassment. His tongue snaked out from between his lips, dragging a small stripe from the crook of your neck to your ear. He felt you shudder harshly beneath him as he kitten-licked the shell of your ear.

"Please... you can't..," you whined, your pleas falling on deaf ears as the water Pillar had his way with you, already successfully dragging your socks down more than halfway. Your strength was no match for his, which had you biting your bottom lip frustratedly, feeling the effects of the poison diminish your motivation to resist. You watched as your garters moved down your legs from underneath your skirt, tightly fastened to your panties as they were pulled down with them.

"B-But my underwear-!" You helplessly stammered, as Giyuu lifted one of your legs after the other, slowly peeling the items of clothing off one by one. A patch of wetness could be seen dead in the center of your undergarment and caught his eye immediately as he watched it be pulled along. A trail of your slick coated your thighs, Giyuu's mouth watering at the sight.

"Oh. But you're already so wet down there... just let me help [f/n]... please," he softly groaned into your ear, his voice so desperate, full of need. You shivered as the air hit your barely covered cunt, and you snapped your knees together, trying to conceal yourself the best you could.

"Giyuu..." you started, feeling his large, rough hands slide back up underneath your skirt. Snaking his hand in between your thighs, he spread them open, allowing him more access. There was nothing to separate him from your bare pussy, and he let himself drag a hesitant finger up your quivering slit. A strangled moan escaped you as his fingers gathered your slick, and used it to rub smooth circles around your clit.

"Oh! Fuck...," you quietly cursed, feeling yourself jerk and twitch from sudden pleasure as Tomioka gave you attention exactly where you needed it the most. You couldn't hide how badly you needed him to touch you, knowing how embarrassingly quick it would be for you to come undone. You arched more into him, lolling your head to the side as his slow circles on your bud brought you deeper into madness. Against your wishes, your hips ground into his fingers and into his erection behind you, chasing your high.

"That's it [f/n], I got you," he purred, moving his other hand that he used to steady your hip to trace your slit once more. You felt a finger breach your entrance, and you grabbed his forearms to steady your jolting body.

"'Hng,... Ah!" you moaned loudly, gasping as he curled his finger inside your dripping heat, pushing it deeper until he found a spongy spot along your velvety walls. You almost leapt out of his arms, the way he prodded your g-spot so fiercely, your mind melting into a hazy goo, unable to think straight. You were practically immobilized with pleasure, letting out a whine when he added a second finger, and soon a third, stretching you out. His pace around your clit quickened, never faltering even with the added stimulation. Your pussy was drooling around his fingers, the squelching noises so vulgar to your ears. However, it was music to his.

Tomioka nipped and sucked at your exposed neck, shuddering as your sweet cries reached his ears. You were almost at your limit, he could feel you squeezing sporadically around him. It was almost devilish how much he enjoyed you falling apart in his hands. He just wanted to help you feel better, of course, so happy the way your swollen pussy clung to his fingers. With a few more rubs of your clit, you felt it. The pressure that was steadily building up in your abdomen was careening over the edge.

"W-Wait! Giyuu...! 'm cumming... gonna...!" You couldn't finish your sentence as the pressure exploded, sending you straight into the clouds. Your eyes rolled upwards, and your pussy spasmed and gushed around his fingers as you came hard. You shook in his arms, quietly cursing and moaning his name. Tomioka continued to finger-fuck you through your orgasm, relishing in the way you moaned his name as you came. He was rock hard, his cock straining painfully now against his uniform pants. He wanted nothing more than to feel himself inside you, hoping it could relieve the unbearable sexual frustration you were both suffering from.

As you panted, slowly coming down from your high, Giyuu slipped his hands away from your cunt to tear off his jacket, now allowing the both of you to be skin-to-skin. You still had your bindings halfway on, but you were soaking through your skirt, even creating a damp spot where the curve of your ass met his print. Giyuu had already slipped off his shoes, finding a place for his hands around your waist. You released a shaky breath as you felt his hands rub circles at your sides.

"Are...are you feeling better?" He asked lowly, peering over your shoulder at the bindings that were slowly unraveling around your tits. His hands mindlessly came up to grope them softly, palming them in slow circles.

"Y-Yes," you breathed, unable to wrap your head around how hard he just made you cum with his fingers. The heat momentarily dwindled, before returning with the stimulation at your chest. You had the shortest window of relief before being reminded that you needed more. It wasn't enough. You needed to help him too, the only way you knew how. His method was working after all.

"Giyuu... I think I need more," you mumbled, relaxing into his touches. His fingers came up to peel off your bindings, exposing your nipples to the air. He took each one in his index and thumb, lightly pulling and tweaking them. You jerked, shock and pleasure shooting through you.

He was at your earlobe licking, then sucking and kissing the soft skin down the side of your neck.

"I know baby, ...how much more? Tell me what you want," he sighed, drunken on how perfect and sexy you were like this. He almost wasn't sure how much of himself was being influenced by the aphrodisiac, you already drove him crazy internally. Eventually, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold himself back anymore. The way you regarded him so sweetly always, he found himself drawn to you, appreciating your friendship. He could only yearn for you, wanting to take you every time your touches lingered on his arm, or sparred with him, or was in his presence. He wanted to show you just how much he wanted you.

"I want you... to fuck me," you moaned, ignoring how desperate your request may have came out. You just couldn't bear it any longer, you needed him to make you feel good. You needed him inside you until you couldn't think straight.

Giyuu wasted no time and brought his legs in, lifting you into his lap with a strong arm. He turned your head to collide mouths, hastily deepening the kiss. His tongue was back inside your mouth fiercely, mixing your saliva with his, and pulling back a bit to run it over your puffy lips. With an arm still supporting your back, he placed you onto his outstretched haori on the ground, him now on top of you. He broke the kiss, a thin string of spit connecting your lips before snapping. Giyuu slid his hands up the back of your thighs, placing both of your legs over his shoulders. Reaching down, he popped open the buttons of his trousers and hooked his thumb underneath, pulling them down with his undergarments and freeing his cock. You glanced into the space between your bodies, watching as his dick, long and heavy with considerable girth, twitched to life. It slightly curved, and his tip was angrily flushed, precum dribbling from his slit. Your mouth watered a little at the sight. You could feel how big it was from his print, but seeing his dick in all its naked glory was a different story. You were calculating if it would even fit, unaware that Tomioka watched your expression morph into one of dumbfoundedness. He lowered himself, placing an arm next to your head, to press a chaste kiss to your cheek, and one on your lips.

"You can take it... right?" He whispered into your ear and gave a tentative roll of his hips, sliding his tip over your slick folds. His cock dipped lightly into and out of your entrance and slipped right over your clit.

"Ah...! Yes-!" You gasped, feeling the head of his cock breach your entrance. He pushed a few inches into you, your pussy already squeezing him tightly. You felt him groan, drawling out your name in a soft whisper.

"So fucking... tight...," Tomioka shuddered, tensing up to keep him from creaming inside your needy cunt so quickly. "How could you keep this from me..?" He closed his eyes, enjoying every second his cock slowly pushed an inch inside of you.

"Ohh...! Keep going p-please!" You babbled, needing him to hurry and fill you up, even if the pressure opening up your little hole was overwhelming. The effects of the poison still craved more and more, having no regard for logic, just urging you to be pounded into.

"Gods...," he breathed, with quick two thrusts fully splitting you open and seating him deeper than you could have imagined inside you. He stilled for a moment, letting you feel every twitch, as you throbbed around him. You were situated in a mating press, thighs to your chest, as Tomioka angled his hips to kiss his tip at your cervix. Your head reeled from total satisfaction, despite the painful stretch, and your voice was caught in your throat as you felt him, finally, filling up your aching pussy. You almost couldn't get enough of his body being on yours, wrapping your arms around his neck and screwing your eyes shut. Slowly dragging his full length from out your pussy, you felt every vein on his cock as he moved, already whining and nipping at his neck to be stuffed again. He couldn't bare to turn to show you how wide his pupils were blown, beads of sweat forming at his temple as his last strings of self-restraint started to snap.

"I'm gonna start moving now," Giyuu murmured lowly, almost as a warning to brace yourself.

"H-Hurry, Ngh-!" you cried as he snapped his hips forward, plunging into your velvety heat once more. With a firm grip on your calf, he set a brutal pace, pounding into you with every sharp roll of his pelvis. Your pussy drooled and creamed around him as he rearranged your insides, echoing obscene skin-slapping sounds when his heavy balls met the curve of your ass.

"Fuck... you keep sucking me in like that...," he hissed, losing himself in your pretty cunt.

His cock head continually prodded your cervix, constantly rubbing along your g-spot, sending you barreling towards your second release. His head rose to watch your face, long wisps of jet-black hair running awry. He loved watching your tits bounce as he roughly fucked you, the sight fulfilling his most carnal desires. He watched as quiet praises fell from your lips, barely coherent with how cock-drunk you became, and your eyes fluttered open and closed, unable to hold eye contact, your nerves firing off on every end. His eyes flickered to where your two bodies met, eyeing the creamy ring your pussy pushed down the base of his member the deeper he thrust into you. He let out staggered grunts feeling himself approach his high quickly with the way your cunt swallowed his dick relentlessly. He wanted you to cum again, all over his dick this time, and felt the urge to breed his seed deep into you, only if you would let him. His hand abandoned the back of your knee to snake down your abdomen and find its way to your puffy clit. After rubbing several quick circles on your nub, he felt the siren's call of your approaching orgasm, your cunt starting to spasm around his length. You peered up at him through teary eyes, mouth falling open.

"I-I think I'm... 'm cumming... 'm cumming... fuckk, " you braced yourself as your vision exploded with stars, your mind-numbing climax tearing through you with a strangled cry. Your pussy squirted your release, dripping down your ass and wetting him from his balls to the tops of his thighs. You called out Tomioka's name with a sob as he fucked you steadily through your orgasm. His resolve finally cracked as he knew he wasn't going to last much longer.

"Just like that baby... I'm almost... almost there," he stammered, clenching his teeth as he watched you come down exhaustedly, your doe eyes low and tired.

"Inside... n-need you to cum inside me...," you whispered up at him, using the last of your strength to urge him impossibly deeper. It was such a filthy request that he was more than happy to oblige, as his thrusts morphed into, deep, sultry rolls of his hips. He ground into your cunt a few more times before pushing inside you one last time, his tip spurting warm cum up against your cervix. His body shook, chest heaving hard as he breathed out a string of curses, drowning in the intensity of his climax. You both panted heavily for a moment, feeling the brain fog finally start to dissipate.

Sliding out of you with a quiet "damn," his eyes locked on your pussy as his own semen spilled from your hole, trailing down your sex. The two of you had just gone at it like rabbits, both sheepishly smiling as Tomioka lowered your aching legs. There were no words to describe how utterly satisfying it was to succumb to the urges of the aphrodisiac.

"I think," you said in between breaths, "We might have to just continue this later... indoors...," suddenly reminded of your place on the forest floor.

"Yeah, ... I agree."

® 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬-𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬. 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐃𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦. 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, & 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 <𝟑

#KNY #demon slayer #giyuu #Tomioka #tomioka x y/n #smut #demon slayer smut #kny x reader #x reader #kny smut #kimetsu no yaiba

2K notes · View notes

slytherizz · 1 year ago

Text

Bludgered - Sebastian Sallow x Female!MC/Reader

Summary: Sebastian never really knew what his friend saw in Isaac Cooper but he never questioned it - he made his friend happy. That is until a Quidditch match goes quickly awry and he realises his feelings for her may go far deeper than simple friendship.

Prompt from @monismateos Quidditch Seb x Slytherin Seeker F!MC. Thank you for your patience with this one lovely!

Word Count: 8.3k

Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, 7th Year, explicit sexual content, smut, mild violence, love confessions, semi-public sex, first time

You can find all the tags on Ao3

Condensation fogging the inside of Sebastian’s goggles made it almost impossible to see his frozen fingers clasped around the handle of his broom; let alone the Quidditch match itself. His hair was slicked down his forehead and he could already feel a splinter working its way under the skin of his palm.

He’d have to ask her to help him squeeze that out later.

Rain lashed in oppressive sheets as Sebastian circled the pitch diligently. He rolled his shoulder as much to keep the blood circling as it was to keep pace with the veering gusts that would knock a smaller man from his broom.

Sebastian hadn’t even wanted to try out for the blasted Quidditch team he grumbled inwardly as he swerved out of the line of the chasers keeping an eye on the skies to ensure their path was free of a hurtling bludger.

He’d only intended to watch and support his friend try out for the Slytherin Seeker position. Reyes had taken one look at him stuffing himself into the narrow stalls beside Ominis and declared he had a ‘beaters build’. Before he could protest she’d manhandled him onto a broom, forced a bat in his hand and next thing he knew he was being dragged out at the crack of dawn every morning in the baltic Scottish winter.

Anne had always been the Quidditch player not him – slight and nimble she’d taken great pleasure in outpacing her brother in front of Madam Kagawa.

Merlin, he missed the library.

He could be warm and dry watching the game from a respectable distance inside, book in hand. The cold stiffness in his bones seemed to creak in mourning because at that moment they felt like he’d never be dry again.

But he hadn’t wanted to disappoint her.

She’d looked so pleased when Reyes had offered them both a spot on the team. She’d flung her arms around his neck crowing with delight while Sebastian’s stomach had dropped like a stone. But with how her wide eyes had shone at him, small hands squeezing into his biceps, smile so wide and crooked like a crack of lightning; excitedly waiting for him to return her jubilation he hadn’t the heart to tell her that the absolute last thing he wanted was to be on the Quidditch team.

He'd never been particularly good at saying no to her.

So with a coil of despair tightening in Sebastian’s stomach, he muttered a silent goodbye to his books and his bed and returned her smile praying he didn’t look like a man walking to the gallows.

With how often Anne had badgered him to help her practice during the holidays when she was a Chaser; Sebastian consoled himself with the knowledge that he was a fair flyer. Better than a lot of the Gryffindor team evidently with how their Keeper practically wept every time he saw Rayes’ raven hair streaking towards his goalposts and as a Beater he could at least help keep an eye on their troublesome Seeker.

She was scouting high above him, robes burdened and sopping with water – it was a marvel the weight of them hadn’t made her sluggish. In fact, she barely seemed to notice the cold or the rain at all. Just as alert as she was at the beginning of the match. Floating ominously overhead she kept her silent vigil; like a hawk waiting for a rustle of prey in a dense forest. As impressive as it may be, Sebastian’s constitution was not as robust, and he just hoped she would catch the bloody snitch soon so he could pack it in.

“That’s Reyes with another 10 Points to Slytherin – Puddlemere United will have their hands full with that one next year!” Lucan’s crackly amplified voice shouted over the howling wind.

The thumping of feet heavy enough to break the rickety rafters and a roar of approval from the emerald-cloaked stands answered the chorus of groans from the scarlet that surrounded the pitch.

Tapping his bat against his boot in an inaudible clap Sebastian looked smugly up towards the Gryffindor stands as they jeered at Imelda who seemed as unbothered by them as a speck of soot on her cauldron.

“Eyes on the game, hound!” Imelda barked as she streaked past. Sebastian rolled his eyes at the nickname his captain had bestowed upon him which to his dismay had caught on with the rest of their team.

As he began to turn his attention from the crowd a flash of black stood out against one of the scarlet banners. Obsidian and vibrating with its internal rage Sebastian caught sight of the bludger rocketing through the fog towards their Seekers. All other thoughts evaporated, and he pulled up the handle of his broom jolting up into its path.

He searched wildly through the dark skies for anything to redirect the screeching little devil away from her. His eyes landed on a scarlet figure with a bat in hand - Sebastian found his target. With all the strength his frozen joints would allow, Sebastian raised his arm and smacked the bludger with a resounding crack from his bat, sending it hurtling towards Isaac Cooper.

He’d apologise to his friend later if he put her boyfriend in the hospital wing.

A lopsided smile tugged at his lips. Sebastian leaned back slightly on his broom. Feeling rather pleased with himself he turned to grin at her hoping his quick reactions would break her concentration momentarily and earn him a flash of a smile no matter how fleeting; it was one of his few moments of pleasure in this infernal game – but she was gone.

“The Seekers have spotted the snitch!” Lucan shouted, “It’s Slytherin in the lead – come on Ogspire, knock her off her broom if you have to!”

“Lucan!”

“Sorry, Professor.”

Sure, enough like an arrow released from its quiver she was streaking towards the ground. Cutting through the rain, neck and neck with the bludger hand outstretched as she hurtled towards a flash of gold behind Cooper's left ear.

Nelly, the Gryffindor seeker had also spotted it from below. If she didn’t have such a sizable lead, Sebastian was sure there would be a head-on collision, a mess of broken bones and blood splattered across emerald and scarlet.

Sebastian’s head whipped around to the only other person not intently watching the seekers – Cooper. He’d seen or heard the bludger Sebastian had sent his way a split second before it was too late…for him.

Sebastian felt like he was watching in slow motion. Raindrops hovered in midair like glittering jewels, her emerald robes flapping in the wind like wings, bludger far too close to her head and Cooper poised to strike. A hunter with his gun ready to shoot her from the sky.

Cooper swivelled quickly on his Nimbus, strong arm reaching up above his head as he swung. Wood connected with iron as he followed through redirecting the angry bludger hurtling towards her.

Sebastian screamed her name.

So loud it clawed at his throat. A desperate plea for her to get out of the way, forget the bloody game - but his voice was silenced, stolen by the storm.

If it wasn’t for the clap of thunder and the hammering of rain, Sebastian knew he would have heard the sickening crunch as the bludger connected with bone.

Even if her hands had been tightly clutching her broom, she wouldn’t have been able to grip it after her head was bludgeoned to the side. Every muscle and tendon which had been coiled tight as she surged for victory slackened.

She wobbled and slid silently sideways off her broom.

***

Somewhere overhead even over the deep rumble of thunder, Sebastian could hear Imelda screeching out commands to their team, signalling desperately to Kogawa on the ground below. But Sebastian could barely register the words over the blood roaring in his ears.

Pressing hard on the handle of his broom Sebastian tore towards the ground, rain buffeting his face a harsh sting on freckled cheeks. His vision had tunnelled as he narrowed in on the spot she was falling. He could catch her. Stop her from hitting the ground, if only he could push himself faster. Harder.

She was falling like a star crashing to earth that never should have been stolen from the sky.

Bile was in Sebastian’s throat, harsh and sour. Twenty feet from the sodden earth. Faster. His stomach lurched. Ten feet. Just a little further. A futile hand outstretched.

Just as he was certain she was going to hit the ground limp limbs sprawled and broken in the grass like a rag doll she was suddenly buoyant – airborne once more.

Professor Ronan had his wand outstretched from the stands slowing her descent to Professor Weasley who had already been waiting on the ground. Her mouth pinched in a thin line as she surveyed the sickly parlour of the witch's face and the blood now matting her hair.

Sebastian was the first player to touchdown. Throwing his broom away, abandoning it like he would anything else as long as he could get to her. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could hear the other players circling down to earth but he was consumed. Soley with thoughts of her.

Professor Weasley flicked her wand, muttering a barrier charm shielding her from the unforgiving elements. Sebastian was hot on her heels to follow when Kagawa stepped in front of him putting a firm hand on his shoulder in warning to not interfere.

“She will be fine, Sallow!” said Kagawa sternly.

“You must be joking. She’s clearly not fine! I can help. Just let me go with her and-”

“Professor Weasley and I will accompany her to the hospital wing immediately. You will only get in the way. You can see her for yourself. Later. Be sure to relay that to the rest of the team,” she said with conviction but it did not ease the twisting in Sebastian’s stomach. Kagawa nodded tersely and strode briskly towards the castle.

Sebastian balled up his fists, jutting out his jaw as he took in a heavy breath through his nose.

He wasn’t cold any longer. Sebastian was burning. Burning from the inside out; with a white-hot rage…and fear. Letting it scorch at the shame he felt that he had let this happen, it had been his fault, he had not been enough to take care of her as he’d promised himself.

Mud splattered as he turned on his heels stomping towards Cooper. Channelling the last of his fraying self-control into not reaching for his wand and hexing him on the spot into his feet. Cooper’s face was pale, eyebrow knitted and mouth curling down with worry but it did little to quell Sebastian’s fury.

What right did Cooper have to be worried?

Cooper’s eyes found Sebastian, his grimace contorted into a glare. Narrowing his eyes, a sneer wrinkling his nose and the twitch in his jaw that seemed to be reserved especially for Sebastian. A face so unpleasant, that he had never been able to put his finger on why everyone in this school regarded him as so handsome. Being half-decent on a broom was hardly a reason to fawn after anyone.

Why someone as brilliant as her, with everything she had achieved, would fawn after him too had remained a mystery.

Sebastian never really knew what she saw in him, but he never questioned it - Cooper made his friend happy. Thought he’d made her happy. So the two young men largely ignored each other despite their significance to her unless an interaction was absolutely necessary.

But this betrayal was not something Sebastian could ignore.

“You could have killed her,” Sebastian shouted with such venom that not even a howl of wind could soften his tone. Sebastian shoved an accusatory finger into the other man's chest. Which was promptly smacked away in disgust.

“You heard Kogawa. She’ll be fine!”

Cooper pushed back his ash blonde hair sodden and hanging over his eyes. Averting his gaze to the direction Professor Weasley had whisked her out of the stands and towards the hospital wing. Sebastian clenched his teeth, his jaw twitching at his blatant disregard.

“What the hell were you playing at? Was killing your girlfriend really less important than losing a bloody game or has too many bludgers to the head rendered you a feckless moron?”

“Don’t think I didn’t see you hit a bludger at me. It’s part of the game, Sallow. She knew what she signed up for.”

“That’s bollocks and you know it.”

“Bludgers are an occupational hazard.”

“Couldn’t stand the fact she’s a better player than you - Is that it? Gryffindor chivalry my arse!”

“Unlike you, I'm not that insecure," Cooper blustered "I would have done the same to anyone else.”

“But she’s not just anyone else,” Sebastian shouted incredulously. Anger was pooling in his gut, ripping through him at the thought of Cooper or anyone daring to think so little of her. “She’s your girlfriend!”

Cooper scoffed and his eyes raked down Sebastian. Sizing him up for all he was worth. The two men stepped towards each other.

Never one to back down, Sebastian squared his shoulders to the challenge. Cooper wasn’t much taller than Sebastian and certainly not as broad but he used every last inch to stare down his nose at him with a mocking sneer.

“Exactly. She’s my girlfriend. Not yours.”

“I know that-”

“Do you?” he chortled. “Some of us were starting to think you were as thick as you are pathetic.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sebastian spoke through gritted teeth, acutely aware of the heat rising in his face staining his ears pink.

“It’s fucking embarrassing,” Cooper continued. “The way you carry on after her. Dragging her to the library every night, sending her owls - You don’t even like Quidditch! But you’re at her beck and call like a love-sick cruppy-”

“I’m her friend.”

“Her friend,” Cooper scoffed. “Give it a rest, Sallow. You think you have some sort of claim over her just because you’ve been following her around since fifth-year but never had the nerve to do anything about it.”

“I don’t have a claim on her-” he spluttered. His cheeks redden further and not just from the biting chill.

“No you don’t, because she’s mine-”

Crack.

Sebastian’s fist connected with Cooper’s jaw before he’d even realised he’d swung for the arsehole. Perhaps not as hard as a bludger but the cut it wrought would sting with far more malice than enchanted iron. Taken off guard expecting a wand drawn between his eyes long before a brawl, Cooper was sprawled out at Sebastian’s feet in the steeped grass.

Cooper stared up at him dumbfounded from the floor clutching his cheek. Sebastian’s breath came out angry and ragged, fogging the air in uneven pants. Cooper did not move to get up or reach for his wand. Despite his love for books and clever spell work, Sebastian in that moment was glad of the years of working the fields outside of Feldcroft that made him more physically intimidating than someone so scholarly rarely was. Because if Cooper had moved one inch, he wouldn’t have hesitated to hit him again. He wanted to hit him again. Partially for her, but mostly for himself because Cooper had made him feel small. Powerless. And he’d sworn to himself years ago that he'd never be powerless again.

Powerless as Cooper clearly felt. Crimson cheeked glaring up at him like the intensity of his gaze could set Sebastian on ablaze even in the torrential gail. The prickle of eyes gawping at them, making the heat rise in their cheeks and the hairs on the back of their necks stand to attention.

“Stay away from her. She’s not yours anymore. Not anyone’s. And if I catch you in a broomstick’s length of her again after what you did today - I swear on Salazar’s grave, you will be the one sleeping in the hospital wing next time.”

Cooper’s only acknowledgement of his threat was a glob of scarlet blood spat onto the grass. But he didn’t try to rise to his feet and continued to glare at Sebastian. The tips of his ears were as scarlet as his cloak in rage or embarrassment to be laid out in front of Merlin knows how many students that were still packed into the stands. Circling vultures who would undoubtedly, pick apart his humiliation and spread it through the castle letting it grow more outlandish with each retelling.

Let them say what they want, about Cooper or himself, let them pick them apart - they could make themselves sick on it for all he cared. He only cared about one thing at that moment.

He turned to head for the castle, ignoring the route for the changing rooms where his dry robes waited intent on striding straight for the hospital wing.

“Sallow! What the fuck do you think you're doing?” Imelda shouted barging past the group of quidditch players standing well back from the scuffle. Her black hair was sodden and her ponytail limp, her signature scowl she wore when addressing just about anyone looked forced with the corners of her eyes creased with concern.

“Finish the match without me Imelda-” he grumbled. She stepped into his path blocking him as he attempted to push past her.

“It’s already over. Ogspire caught the snitch and had the good sense to look sheepish about it when she realised what happened. Or the crowd would have seen two seekers knocked off their broom when I was through with her – but that doesn’t matter.”

“No, it doesn’t matter! Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to see to the only thing that does.”

Reyes placed her hands on her hips and looked him up and down, assessing him with an amused quirk on her brow - Sebastian wondered how such a tiny thing as Reyes could be as terrifying as a Hungarian Horntail like she could strip the flesh of your bones with a look.

"Do you know why the rest of the team calls you ‘the hound’?"

"I assume it's because you told them to treat me like some sort of dog. Now if you’ll excuse-"

"You're not a good quidditch player, Seb."

"Cheers Reyes."

"Luckily Carrow is a decent enough beater to look after the rest of the team. But we keep you for one thing. You're the hound. Her guard dog. On and off the pitch. That's why she went down like a sack of shit,” she grimaced. Reyes despite her callousness, Sebastian could see how her shoulder stiffened with suppressed anxiety for one of her few close friends and it settled the anger that was still threatening to spill over. “She's potentially the only seeker in history to never be hit by a bludger. She doesn't even look for them anymore. As I said - you’re not a good quidditch player, Sebastian. But while she’s my Seeker and Carrow doing the heavy lifting…I’ll happily take a bloody guard dog over a half-decent beater. Just don't beat yourself or Cooper up about it."

“No promises about the last bit,” he griped. Averting his eyes, hoping Imelda thought the flush creeping over his cheeks was from the chill and not from the knowledge that even his own teammates shared the opinions of Cooper and his friends when it came to Sebastian’s feelings for her - which felt jumbled with both worry and speculation.

“Go check on her. Blainey will have a fit if the whole team shows up,” Imelda said softly. She negated her uncharacteristic kindness with a firm punch to Sebastian’s arm. Her eyes glinted viciously as she looked past him to Cooper who had pushed himself off the ground dusting off his robes. “Besides…I want to have a little word with Cooper myself.”

***

A puddle had formed under Sebastian’s chair as it had dripped from his sodden robes until Madam Blainey had ushered him into the lavatory. Sebastian hurriedly stripped, cast a drying charm on his clothes and pulled them back on. Forgoing his shoes as he hopped lopsidedly out the door. Hastily pulling up the breeches which stuck against the wet hairs on his legs. Blainey wrinkled her nose at his display but left him to his vigil, being far too familiar with the pair and how persistent they could be when it came to remaining by the other's hospital bed.

On more than one occasion she’d sent the other packing only to be greeted cheerily the next morning by a smug-faced teenager who’d tampered with her locks and wards to sneak back inside to keep the other company. After almost three years of this, she left them, albeit reluctantly, to it.

She was curled up under white starchy sheets; a draped knit blanket barely covering her knees was sliding to the floor where she’d squirmed. No longer chilled to her bones, the colour had returned to her cheeks. Sebastian rested his head on his palm, elbow braced against his knee. He’d been in this position far too many times than was preferable but it had become familiar to him; the twinge in his neck, the ache in his arms as the hours of the vigil dragged on. Not that he minded, being beside each other was second nature.

She shifted; eyes blinking sleepily back into focus as she rolled onto her side. Sebastian stretched rubbing the back of his neck smiling at the softness of her sleepy gaze.

“Seb?” she sighed dreamily, her voice thick and curdled with potions Blainey had more than likely forced down her neck.

“Who else,” he grinned. Blainey had long since satisfied her need to poke and prod at her ward and headed up to bed. And he doubted anyone had the bollocks to go against Imelda if they’d forbidden them from seeing her tonight. “You gave me a bit of a fright there, pet.”

“It’ll take more than that for you to get rid of me…” she said sitting up more jovial than he expected. “But…whoever came up with the idea of bludgers is a sadist.”

“Or a masochist. Some of us are gluttons for punishment,” Sebastian argued, pulling at the collar of his Quidditch jersey exposing the jagged scar on his shoulder.

Faded white, the remnants of one of their summer duels. With no Blainey to patch him up in seconds, the skin had puckered and scared but he was rather fond of how it cut through the freckles.

“If you recall, you were the one who insisted we practice severing charms after five pints in the Broomsticks.”

“In my defence, with the amount of practice you get, I thought you had better aim when you were drunk,” he chuckled. “How are you feeling? You seem to be fairing better than I was that morning.”

“I’m made of sterner stuff. No hungover wailing over a little scratch for me,” she jabbed before grimacing rubbing the side of her head where it had struck. “Not going to say it was pleasant - nasty little buggers aren’t they. But Blainey patched me up. Made me drink that foul grey sludge for the concussion but a couple of spells for the wound and I was good as new. Honestly, the sleeping draught seemed like overkill but I think she’s just sick of catching me roaming the halls at night.”

“If she thinks that’d stop you! Don’t think I’ve ever seen you sit still for this long, you menace.”

“Or you for that matter,” she grinned, patting his hand affectionately. Moonlight spilled in from the ornate windows over the vacant hospital wing, she peered past him down the rows of empty beds. “Where’s Isaac? I thought he’d want to see me-”

Sebastian bristled, her disappointed frown souring his cheerful mood. He brushed the bruised swelling on his knuckles from where they’d connected with Cooper’s jaw.

“What you’d rather see your ‘brave’ Gryffindor boyfriend - than me? Who’s been here.”

Who’s always been here.

Maybe Cooper was right. Perhaps they all were and Sebastian really was pathetic. Pathetic for assuming she’d still want to wake to Sebastian at her bedside now that she had Cooper in her life. That their friendship could compare to what he could offer her.

“No, I’m glad you’re here,” she said crossly. “But…I thought he’d want to at least check I was alright.”

“You shouldn’t want to see him after the stunt he pulled today! He’s the reason you’re in the hospital at all, might I add. Decided you were less important than a stupid game. I told him to stay the hell away from you for good.”

She blinked at him incredulously for a moment before the heat began to rise in her cheeks and she clenched her jaw.

“How dare you! Who do you think you are deciding what I do? You have a lot of nerve, Sebastian.”

“I thought I was saving you the trouble but if you want to scurry back to him, be my guest!” Standing so abruptly his chair screeched across the floor. “Keep doing everything for everyone else when they wouldn’t give a fraction back. No matter the cost to yourself, like you always do. You can be so bloody naive!”

“I know you don’t like Isaac - you don’t even try to hide it. But you can’t dictate who I see. And I hoped you thought more highly of me to think I’d stay with him after the shit he pulled today. But, if that’s what you really think of me, you can bloody join him” she snarled.��I tell everyone they don’t know you like I do, but maybe I am naive. Seems I’m surrounded by tossers trying to knock me down. Why do you even care, as clearly you think so little of me?”

“Of course, I care! Even though you’re seemingly incapable of caring about yourself. You barely even let me. You’re infuriating! What’s more ridiculous is what someone like you would see in him. He’s not good enough for you, he never has been! You give yourself over to people who couldn’t give too shits about you and now look at you-”

“Oh, so what? My boyfriend turning out to be a complete and utter prat is somehow my fault?”

“No! Of course not,” he flustered, carding his fingers through his hair. All the words in his head felt jumbled and he could tell by the dangerous look in her eyes he’d let his temper dig himself into a hole once again.

“Don’t hold back, Sebastian,” she spat through gritted teeth. “Did you just come here to insult me or is there something you’re trying to say?”

“What I’m trying to say is you should you should be with someone who fucking cares. If it was me, I wouldn’t be risking your safety to win a stupid game! Merlin, if I was your boyfriend I wouldn’t risk you for anything. I thought I lost you once and it was one of the worst days of my life. If someone had tried to take you away from me I would have fought back. Fought for you. If we were together-”

His voice died abruptly in his throat when she was no longer fixing him with a deadly eye but staring at him. Wide-eyed her mouth hung slightly a jar. He'd built up a barrier around himself and as close as he was to her, probably closer than anyone he’d still kept her at arm's length. Once again he let his temper get the better of him but instead of solidifying those walls, he’d exposed a little too much. Exposed something he’d vehemently denied to even himself.

Shone a light on a corridor in the labyrinth of their friendship and feelings he had for her he’d never explored. One he perhaps always knew was there but until now had dutifully tried to ignore lest he lose his way and not be able to make it back to the well-travelled paths of simple friendship.

“But we’re not together…” she said cautiously. As if she could tell Sebastian was a startled animal, and once the shock of his confession wore off he’d bolt. Which quite frankly he was considering.

“No. We’re not," he responded voice clipped. Sebastian was more surprised it even worked at all with how tight his chest felt.

“But if we were…” she said it like she was stepping out onto thin ice wondering if it would hold or she’d plunge into the unforgiving water below. “What would you do for me?”

There was no use hiding it any longer. He sighed, looking into her eyes resigning himself to that first step into the unknown.

“Anything.”

Her breath caught and Sebastian knew she could see the truth they’d danced around painted across his face and laid bare between them. Feel the finality of his words like Pandora opening the box and swarming the carefully curated distance between them with truth never to be recaptured.

Sebastian reached for her, fingers entwining in her hair tilting her chin up so she could see him. Perhaps truly for the first time, exposed and raw. Her soft lips parted as if to protest his confession but as she searched his face for the lie she found none. Sebastian was done with hiding, with pretending. The realisation that his feelings went beyond that of a companion and he didn’t care if anyone thought it pathetic. In truth, it was liberating to drop the charade he played with his own heart.

He kissed her.

Claiming her lips firm, not holding back the wave of desire that ignited any semblance of decorum and dignity he had left. Any whisper of a reason he’d concocted in his mind for why they couldn’t - shouldn’t be together going up in smoke. Pulling her towards by the nape of her neck, like he hadn’t realised he’d been starving until he tasted her.

There was a desperation in the way he cupped her chin, tangled in her hair longing for acceptance. He brushed his tongue lightly against her bottom lip.

Just like that barrier between them crumbled for her too and she was kissing him back. Mouth moving against his with such a fiery intensity he thought he might catch alight. Like she too had stifled any spark she’d felt between them; kept it bottled away for so long with no chance to grow that now it was fed it devoured her.

It was not soft, nor tender – perhaps it was because neither were they.

His tongue delved into her mouth hungrily, exploring brushing against hers. He stifled a wanton moan into her mouth.

“I think I need to break up with my boyfriend,” she said breathlessly between kisses.

“I already took care of that for you.”

For a moment, Sebastian thought she might break off their kiss and start shouting again. But she nipped at his lip satisfied with his answer. Her hand was in his hair, wrapping around his neck. Pushing up on her knees to press her chest against his. Muffled moans slipped from her lips which made Sebastian’s head spin dizzy with desire. His own strangled, desperate groan when she slid her tongue past his lips to brush tentatively against his own. Every flick of her tongue drove him further into the heady fog of desire.

The overwhelming need to be closer. To drown in her embrace. Sebastian's knee found purchase on the bed between her parted legs. His hand ghosted down her back settling on the small of her back. She groaned as her spine curved towards him as he impressed down upon her. Still clinging to him as she fell backwards. Sebastian tumbled after her. Not caring about how his weight rested heavily upon her. She seemed to revel in the closeness, in the way Sebastian bore down on her. Desperate to be closer to her. Cocoon himself around her. Be the barrier to shield her from harm.

But she wanted no barriers. At least not between her and the sanctuary that was Sebastian. She tugged up the hem of his jersey, eager fingers stumbling. He let his lips briefly leave hers, sitting back to pull it roughly over his head discarding it carelessly to the side.

It wasn't as if she hadn't seen him shirtless before when they'd spent sun-drenched summer afternoons swimming in the river by Feldcroft or when errant spells had ripped or burnt the clothes from his back. But never had she looked at him like she was now - or if she had he hadn't noticed. Eyes darkened with desire raked over him hungrily as if she wanted to tear into his flesh.

She explored the breadth of him that was now exposed to her. The sparse hair on his chest, the marred skin on his shoulder the scar she’d left; a claim she’d staked on his skin long before he knew every inch of it was hers.

His hands explored her in turn. Running along her ribs, the curve of her hips, and the dip of her waist. Committing this side of her to memory. Unbound, lustful. Still every bit the wild thing he knew her to be but with an endearing nervousness to her inquisitive touch.

A side of her that until now had remained a mystery to him. A restricted section of a library he’d been too afraid to read from lest he be thrown from its doors entirely; on he intended to consume entirely.

“I didn't know you wanted this - Merlin, I didn't know I wanted this," he murmured between kisses.

"A life-threatening blow to the head can really knock things into perspective."

He tilted her chin to access her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin below her jaw. She let out a startled little yelp as her body jolted in surprise. Sebastian chuckled and pressed his lips more softly against her quivering pulse, letting the tension ebb from her tightly coiled muscles before sucking a brand into the delicate skin. She groaned as her back arched towards him, breast brushing against his chest through her thin nightdress. The sweet trembling whimpers as he soothed the ache so intoxicating he felt drunk on her cries. Kneading the flesh of her breast in his palm, coaxing more delightful sounds from her lips as he tweaked the bud between his fingers.

"I'll have to thank Isaac for-"

"Don't say his name-" Sebastian pleaded. Disliking the way any name sounded in the breathless quiver of her voice besides his own. "From now on - No one else's. Only-"

She cut him off cupping his face, prying him away from his ministrations on her jaw. She touched her lips to his gentler than the last had been, understanding the desire in his incoherent rambling.

"Sebastian."

And she said it was the only name that mattered. He groaned deeply, burying his face in her hair. Breathing in the faint lingering scent of mallowsweet not even the storm could wash away entirely. Sebastian grasped her hip through her thin nightdress dress so he could roll his own against her core. He knew she would feel the growing need hardening in his between his legs.

Slipping under her skirt he slid a hand purposefully up the inside of her thigh. Her fists balled in the sheets as he brushed against the soaked fabric of her knickers. She shivered and certainly not from the cold, as he tentatively traced her folds.

“Say my name again.”

She complied and he pressed his thumb against the bundle of nerves. She whined at the contact and it called to something primal within him. That doggedness, that impulsivity a part of him he tried to damper, and contain lest it consume him completely as it had done in the past - perhaps this was why he'd built a wall between her and his heart. Because once he surrendered this part of himself to her, anything he had done in the past would pale in comparison to the everything he would do for her.

Shifting the fabric to the side and dragging a finger through the slick coating her folds to press against her clit. Coaxing out mewls of pleasure with every tantalising circle of the nub. Her breath was hot against his neck and a flush had spread from her cheeks down her chest. She writhed in search of more friction as he teased her open with his fingers. Sebastian emitted a low throaty groan when he felt how silky and keen she was for him. Her breath caught in her throat and his own became more ragged as he pumped and curled his fingers inside of her. Working her open, pliant to his touch.

His cock was strained against his Quidditch breeches twitching eagerly against her stomach with every muttered curse and keening mewl she released. Her whine into his mouth, a plea for Sebastian to give her more than just a tentative caress. Her hands which until now had been stroking along his spine and tangling in chestnut curls ran along the curve of his ribs and down his stomach. She palmed his hard length and began pulling the laces to free him from his trousers.

Rumoured dalliances were one thing and those were bountiful. Gossip spread like wildfire whether there was truth to it or not. But if it were to be discovered Sebastian had had her completely - it could damn her. There would be no going back, no changing her mind about their feelings for each other. Not that there would be any going back for him. Not now the floodgates had opened try as he might he would not be able to close them.

He’d submitted to it. To be hers. And he knew his stubborn heart could not be turned.

A crease formed between his eyebrows and he pulled back from their kiss. Sebastian had burned for her for longer than he knew and now his heart had begun to splutter with nerves. She smoothed the lines etched on his brow, tilting her chin up to kiss him with a soft longing. A silent affirmation that this was not a moment of madness or revenge.

“This really isn't the place, pet," he tried to reason but he made no motion to move away from her embrace. Instead, he peeled the silken nightgown over her head which she wriggled out of gratefully. Bare and laidf out below him his mouth felt dry, as she looked at him through her lashes. Chest heaving, his friend transformed into a goddess under the soft lamp light.

"You don't think the hospital wing is romantic?"

"We could get caught?"

"We're both rather adept at getting out of trouble."

"You're sure?"

“About you?” He nodded nervously. Her eyes softened and the words came to her easily as if somehow she'd always known it would be him. "Since the day I met you.”

Sebastian heart rattled as she undid the laces, and helped her shuck the material down his hips. He kissed her and he wondered why he tried to evade the inevitability that was her. She wrapped a hand around his cock and he bucked almost embarassingly into her grip.

He helped her guided his cock towards her entrance, shivering as he dragged the head against her slick folds. He kissed her deeply. Passionately. In reverence to her and all she meant to him; even when he'd been too blind to see it.

He sank into her tight heat. The noise rumbling from deep in his chest was more akin to a growl than anything human as his girth stretched her inch by inch.

Muscles tightly coiled with nerves but a tremor of pleasure electrified her as Sebastian pressed his thumb gently to her clit soothing her delicate whimpering. Fingernails etching grooves into his shoulders he knew should sting but gods - his mind had been completely overcome in the bliss of her warmth.

"Ah- Fuck."

Sebastian wasn't sure which one of them had uttered it the moment he bottomed out inside her. Dropping to press his forehead against hers. Hot breath disturbed her unruly hair which he had tangled, a blush staining her cheeks and lips swollen, Sebastian didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone more beautiful.

The last thread of his control was dwindling with how tight her walls fluttered around his cock, how perfectly he fit inside her; like he belonged buried in her. But he stilled himself. Letting her adjust despite how desperately he craved the claim her to make her scream his name until she could speak no other.

Sebastian wasn't known for his exercises in control, but he tried. For her.

Moving his hips working himself into her with tentative shallow thrusts. Her appreciating shallow panting like blissful music. He stole a look down to where their bodies were connected. Almost coming undone completely at the sight.

"It's like you were fucking made for me," he rasped. Still circling her swollen nub admiring how each stroke strained her breathing into short needy pants. Coaxing more of her slick to coat his shaft.

"Funny," she choked a devilish smile spreading over her face. Her eyes flicked up to his from they too had been trained on their union. "I was going to say the same thing about you."

He dared a deeper thrust. Pulling back before pushing back in with a languid roll of his hips that made her groan, wanton and needy. Her back arching skyward he slid his free arm under the space she left. Wrapping around her waist to embrace her tighter.

Her hips bucked towards him, with every deep steady thrust. Cursing a string of profanities and praise the new angle allowed the head of his cock to stroke along her sweet spot. Filthy things that would have made even him blush but if it was possible they only made him rut into her more possessively. Mouthing brainless at the curve of her jaw, as she accepted him deeper.

There was a familiarity in the unfamiliar. The way the scent of mallowsweet wrapped around him had never smelt so intoxicating. The lilt to her voice when she said his name never sounded so reedy and desperate.

He'd been trapped outside the gates of Elysium and now indulged fully in its pleasures. Sebastian groaned, peppering kissed into the crook of her neck, spreading her knees open to take him deeper. His thumb still teased her clit with every thrust making her legs tremble. The hair on his chest and freckles across his skin did little to hide the flush of colour on his skin. Sebastian clung to her desperately, her skin soft and plush in ways he’d never let himself imagine.

He felt her climax building around his cock. Clawing at his back as she whined, teetered on the edge of ecstasy. Desperately clinging to him, to prolong the moment neither of them wanted to end. But his own release was impressing on him fast. Coiling tightly in his gut as he began to pound into her harder his pace becoming erratic with every deliberate thrust into her tight heat.

“Fuck. Fuck- Please, darling. Come for me,” he pleaded. Barely recognising the desperate gravelly rumble of his voice.

“Seb- Sebastian, I’m so close!”

“I can feel you. Fucking incredible. You’re incredible, taking me so well. I can’t- I can’t hold back anymore.”

Her climax broke, with a shuddering cry of his name. Spasming and contracting as she sucked him in impossibly deeper into her cunt. Sebastian doubted there was any greater pleasure in this world than the feeling of her completely unravelling, pulsing around him.

She was calling out to him breathless, like his name was the answer to a question her soul had been asking and he was filling in the gaps of what she never knew was missing.

His vision narrowed, until she was all there was. Blushing, dishevelled a fucking exquisite mess writhing against him - because of him. With a final uneven snap of his hips, he buried himself inside of her to the hilt. Groaning her name over and over like a mantra as he came, hard. Harder than he ever had. Hips spluttering as he spilt inside of her grinding out his release deep in her channel.

He loosened the arm coiled around her waist allowing her to slump boneless onto the mattress. He kissed her, capturing her sweet dulcet whimpers as he coaxed her slowly down from her bliss. Letting her ride out the last of her shaking climax with gentle circles on her clit, still buried inside of her.

They stayed like that for a while, his head pressed into the crook of her neck, whispering sweet nothings in her ear. Humming contentedly as rocked into her. A little gasped when he at last pulled his softening cock from inside of her. Mourning the loss of being intertwined with him completely.

Hardly big enough for two, he pulled her half draping her soft body over him so they both fit. Head resting on his chest she hummed contentedly as he pressed his lips to the crown of her head. They were silent, the only sounds were their laboured breathing and the occasional satiated sigh.

"I love you," Sebastian’s voice broke the silence.

And it felt too big and too small all at once; like it didn't capture the enormity of what he was feeling but now that he did he could never love anyone else. Never feel the warmth of another and for it to feel like home. “I just- I want you to know in case it wasn’t obvious. You don’t have to say it back-”

“I love you too. In fact, I think I’ve loved you for a long time.”

She tilted her chin up to kiss him and the world seemed to tip on its axis. Sebastian resigned to the knowledge he would fly through a thousand more storms just so he could bask in her warmth.

***

Luxuriating in the afterglow of a perfect evening rarely lasted forever. However, Sebastian didn't anticipate his to end quite so abruptly or by being shoved out of bed by the witch he loved. Landing clumsily on the tiled floor he glared up at her disorientated. If she wasn't roughly pulling her nightdress over her head to cover her bare breasts he may have thought last night was a rather vivid wet dream.

"Blainey's coming. You need to hide," she hissed. “Quickly. Under the bed.”

"So? She's used to it. We always stay here together-" Sebastian yawned in protest. Reaching up to fix her dishevelled hair brushing his thumb against her cheek. If possible, she blushed even more wildly than she did last night when he’d been buried between her legs. As if the affectionate hand from the man who loved her was somehow more intimate.

"Yes- but usually fully clothed! Oh for Merlin's sake-"

She snatched her wand up off the table, pointing it dead between Sebastian's eyes she muttered a disillusionment charm. Sebastian felt it trickle over him and just as his hands disappeared from view the door to Blainey’s chambers swung open. The matron shuffled into the hospital wing bee-lining for her solitary ward’s bed who was quickly stashing her wand under her pillow. Sebastian despite being little more than a trick of the light, scooted further under her cot to avoid discovery.

"Good morning, dear! How are you feeling?” she greeted her cheerily. Stopping at the foot of her bed her sensible shoes the only thing visible to Sebastian. “...You look a little flushed."

"Much better, Miss. Truly-”

"Look at the state of your sheets. Tossing and turning all night, I’ll bet," Blainey tutted. Sebastian clapped his hand over his mouth to stifle a snort of laughter. "Glad I kept you in. I knew you needed a good night's rest."

“Ah. yes- slept better than I have in years,” her voice wavered unconvincingly. Terrible liar. The bed springs straining as she squirmed uncomfortably.

"You have a visitor,” Blainey said, fussing with her pillow. Sebastian tucked his feet in tighter into the cramped space. “Your boyfriend, Mr Cooper."

Sebastian stilled, his jaw tensing as he resisted the urge to charge out of the hospital wing in all his naked glory and tell the Gryffindor to piss off.

"I think Isaac is mistaken, Miss. He is certainly not my boyfriend any longer.”

Sebastian may be naked, tailbone throbbing and hunched under a hospital bed in the most undignified position anyone could possibly be discovered in - but Sebastian felt far from pathetic. Smug was probably a better word with the grin that had stretched over his face.

The blow to the face may have hurt Cooper’s pride but it would be nothing compared to the gut punch awaiting him when he discovered how their roles had reversed. When he saw what he squandered had been entirely to Sebastian's gain.

"Or perhaps he has taken too many bludgers to the head or he would have gleaned from his conversation with Sebastian that I don't have a boyfriend,” she said loudly enough for Cooper's prying ears likely eavesdropping on the other side of the door.

Sebastian frowned. Snaking his hand up quickly to deliver a hard pinch to the soft flesh of her arse. She squeaked in surprise, swatting into thin air as she searched blindly for his invisible hand. He knew she’d be blushing madly and he’d probably get an earful about that later. Although he now had a lot more creative fantasies about making it up to her.

"Something wrong, dear?" Blainey turned to her concerned.

"Nothing!"

But, something was much indeed wrong.

'I don't have a boyfriend' he almost gave himself away with an audible scoff.

Sebastian would have to do something about that immediately.

#sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x f!mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian x mc #sebastian sallow fanfic #Sebastian sallow x female reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader #Sebastian Sallow x Slytherin reader #Beater Sebastian #Seeker MC

608 notes · View notes

laxmiree · 7 months ago

Text

[CN] MLQC Lucien's new SSR karma + Accursed Date blurbs

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

This post contains a detailed spoiler for a story that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

"Everyone is accompanied by puzzles, it's just that some are ignorant, and some are fearless."

Date blurbs under the cut!

[Accursed Date]

The terrifying barking echoed through the dense fog, and the bloody crime scene presented a horrifying welcome to us.

Under the clear and sunny sky, murderous intent lurks within the manor. Beneath layers of schemes, who will have the last laugh?

[Trivia: His story is very likely to be inspired by "Hound of the Baskervilles"]

"The charm of thinking lies in that you will eventually come close to someone similar to you."

#SHERLOCK HOLMES COLLAB IS HEREEE #ik they're cooking #mlqc lucien #mr love queen's choice #mlqc cn #mlqc spoiler #mlqc #mlqc translation #mr. love queen's choice #mr love lucien #mlqc xu mo #mlqc spoilers

56 notes · View notes

umangharyana · 2 hours ago

Text

दक्षिण भारत में भारी बारिश, उत्तर भारत में घना कोहरा: IMD ने जारी किया अलर्ट

नई दिल्ली: भारत मौसम विज्ञान विभाग (IMD) ने आगामी दिनों में देश के विभिन्न हिस्सों में मौसम के बदलते मिजाज को लेकर चेतावनी जारी की है। दक्षिण भारत के तटीय इलाकों में भारी बारिश की संभावना है, जबकि उत्तर भारत में घने कोहरे का प्रकोप बढ़ने वाला है। दक्षिण भारत में भारी बारिश का अलर्ट IMD के अनुसार, 26 से 29 नवंबर के बीच दक्षिण तटीय आंध्र प्रदेश और रायलसीमा में हल्की से मध्यम बारिश के साथ बिजली…

#Bihar Temperature Today #bihar weather news #bihar weather today #cold #delhi weather #Dense Fog in Uttar Pradesh #Heavy Rainfall Tamil Nadu #IMD Alert Today #Khabar Junction Hindi News #Khabar Junction News in Hindi #rain #snowfall #temperature #uttar pradesh weather #Weather #Weather News #Weather Update

0 notes

painterofhorizons · 2 months ago

Text

gone

(aka the one time I made a joke about eggs and it turned into Angst.)

Shepard remembers something good among all the bad, but then she doesn't. James was fast to say: It’s okay. Don’t worry. It’s fine – but it wasn’t. He had told her too many times, and it upset her. So he stopped and just lay there with her, enduring it, patiently, quietly, arms wrapped around her.

1k, post-war, Reda Shepard/James Vega, also on AO3

~ ~ ~

There’s no winning in a war. No glory in survival. No words in the shadow – and sometimes not even in the light.

“You made eggs”, Reda says, startling James from sleep.

Years after the war against the Reapers ended it is still an instinctive reaction for him, being alert in a split second at the slightest noise. But years of war have also left a mark on him and it’s not so easy anymore coming back from sleep to reality. It takes him a moment to add the smell of their apartment and the weight of the blanket covering them like a nest and the lack of the constant low hum that had surrounded them in space to the picture, forming a whole thing, reality slowly dripping in to years of conditioning under a constant state of galactic emergency.

“What?”, he mutters, mind still half where between sleep and awake.

“Eggs”, Reda repeats quietly.

He realizes by the tone of her voice that she is sleep drunken-tired, not exhaustion-tired, and his body slowly relaxes. His arms wrap around her just a little tighter, as to make sure she is really here, in front of him, under the same blanket, in the same apartment, down on Earth – not on some cold spaceship or under a pile of blood and dirt and rubble.

Eggs.

“When?”

“At the…”

The slow movement in his arms stops. Freezes.

“On the…”

Another instinct kicks in as James hands gently lay on Reda’s bare skin, seeking connection, applying soft pressure, trying to be an anchor in what is to follow.

“When we were–“

The warm, indistinct feeling that her dream had carried is gone in a heartbeat, leaving nothing but grey and soul crushing emptiness in Reda’s chest.

Eggs.

There had been something in her mind that had whispered: it wasn’t all bad. Remember me, not them. But it is gone and instead, there is a dread lingering somewhere deep down inside of her. Tenacious. Relentless. Erratic.

Inevitable.

“I’m here”, James whispers, words getting lost in the dense fog inside Reda’s head.

James was fast to say:

It’s okay.

Don’t worry.

It’s fine.

– but it wasn’t.

On a good day Reda had gotten angry on him, yelled at him (though it wasn’t proper yelling, it wasn’t even raising her voice, it was trying at best but her body refused, and it made her just angrier), blamed him he was basically telling her to just give up, they all did, everyone told her that it was okay when it wasn’t, she wasn’t, her brain wasn’t–

So he stopped.

It killed him to see her fight like that. To see her in a constant war with herself, with her brain, with her body that was broken beyond repair, and he didn’t know if it would be easier if she would just accept it or if that was giving up. Giving in. Admitting defeat. But what did giving up even mean? Was it the end or a beginning? A necessary step on the way to recovery or just closing the door to whatever could be coming?

Whatever it was, it was okay. They were still here, after all. Alive. Whole enough for it to count.

But he didn’t say it’s okay, or don’t worry, or it’s fine.

He lay with her in bed, in their apartment, under the blanket that covered them like a nest, without the constant hum of a space ship, feeling the battle she fought in her tense shoulders, in the heaviness of her breath, in the movement of the blanket under her fists, while she was desperately searching for words and thoughts and memories that had been there just a second ago but were gone now that she was aware of them. She knew they’d been there, but they weren’t.

He didn’t tell her it was okay because for her it wasn’t. And he didn’t tell her that by now he knew what she meant because he did remember, even if she didn’t. Because telling her would just upset her, even more so, because it was her battle, not his, and all he could offer was enduring it with her and not leaving her side.

Not giving up.

He wanted to tell her it was okay, because it was. It was okay that the words weren’t there. The memories. It was okay that she was upset about it. And that while none of it was good, they were still here, alive, and the goddamn war was over, so it was okay.

– but he didn’t. He had told her too many times, and it upset her. So he stopped and just lay there with her, enduring it, patiently, quietly, arms wrapped around her, waiting for her to dictate the terms of war, not him, nor the world. Because it was her war after all.

“Help me”, she whispers, because it’s a battle she can’t win, just like the war, no matter how hard she tries.

“We had a party on the Citadel on shore leave”, he calmly says, “and I made eggs for breakfast. You told me it was the best eggs you ever had in your whole life.”

Reda half sniffs, half snorts. “I did not.”

James smirks against the back of her head, face nuzzled into her hair, his breath warm and damp on her skin. “Who knows? You should try my eggs and prove me wrong.”

Some of the tension in her body eases up again and James draws her a little closer.

“I don’t want eggs”, she mumbles and closes her eyes.

She’s bloody tired.

Exhausted.

How can hunting down words make her so God awfully tired?

“I know”, James repeats quietly.

I’m sorry, he adds in his thoughts, but doesn’t say it.

There’s no winning in this war.

(also on AO3)

#mass effect #reda shepard #james vega #post war fic #brain damage #ptsd #painterofhorizons writes #this is giving me feels for years now so you have to feel them too

24 notes · View notes

enigmaticexplorer · 1 month ago

Text

Let Me Love You - Part IV

Masterlist | Previous Part | Next Part

General Summary. An opportunity to expand your grandmother’s business brings you to Coruscant and a chance-encounter with Commander Fox. Friendship is your intent. But feelings grow, and with them, renewed fears.

Pairing. Commander Fox x female!OC

General Warnings. Self-esteem issues; intimacy issues; trust issues; explicit sexual content.

Fic Rating. E (explicit)/18+/Minors DNI.

Word Count. 3.4K

9 Kelona, Zhellday

Early morning sunlight greeted you, playful and eager. It was the same each morning. A monotony fitting Coruscant’s metallic environment.

The planet’s controlled climate lacked the inspiration of a heavy rainstorm as the skies blackened and sheets of rain pummeled the fields.

It lacked the novelty of a spring snowstorm as a dense fog captured the hills in its uncanny embrace and snow blanketed the landscape for kilometers.

It lacked the natural yet unpredictable change among autumn’s maple leaves and the joy of a harvest nearing completion.

Perched on the edge of your bed, you glared out the window at the cityscape beyond. Already the walkways bustled with life. Air traffic crowded the sky.

A planet with more than a trillion beings and you were more alone than ever.

A result of your actions, you were well aware of this fact.

As solitude consoled you with its quiet, independence-encouraged embrace, so too did self-sabotage comfort: a self-preserving shadow that protected you from the unknowns of the future.

Both solitude and self-sabotage were formerly lurking forces that, over many years, became your closest allies.

They looked out for you.

They wanted what was best for you.

They cared about you.

They were voices of reason. They maintained an organized list of your flaws, and reminded you of them often. Not to humiliate or shame you. Rather, to protect you from the inevitable hurt of abandonment.

You couldn’t be hurt if you never opened yourself to the vulnerability of being—

Your feet lurched to a stop outside the stained-glass windows of the gallery. The panes of purples, blues, greens, and yellows glowed beneath the morning sunlight. They weren’t the attention of your focus, though.

It was the man with a shoulder resting against the door and armored arms crossed over his chest. A man who was seven hours early.

You ground your teeth. Clenched and unclenched your hands at your sides. Smoothed a nonexistent wrinkle from your pencil skirt. Unease coiled tight with foreboding as you forced yourself to move forward.

Fox lifted his head. Straightening, he removed his helmet, his expression carefully blank.

You kept your face equally blank. “What are you doing here?”

“We received a security alert.” The answer was unexpected. Your relief must’ve shown because Fox frowned. “The cams on this street went out an hour ago. A malfunction. I need to check the gallery.”

Understanding the wordless intent in his response, you keyed in the code. The door swished open and you stepped inside. The overhead lights flickered on in welcome. Depositing your bag atop the counter, you motioned for Fox to continue into the backroom and then logged into your computer, pulling up today’s schedule. A moment later and Fox returned.

“I’ll need your security footage for the last twenty-four hours,” he said.

“I’ll get a copy made.” Your gaze remained planted on your computer screen. “It’ll be ready tomorrow.”

Silence, swollen with tension, thickened throughout the gallery.

Opening a file, you prepared notes for your first two client meetings, waiting for the door to announce Fox’s departure—

“Are we gonna talk about it?”

You stiffened. It took far too much effort to meet his stare, and once you did, you wanted to look away. His gaze was too familiar. Too intense. Too intimate.

“I’m not sure what there’s to talk about,” you said calmly. “We kissed. That was it. It was a lapse in judgement—”

“A lapse in judgement?” His low chuckle was anything but humorous.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” Your arms wrapped around your stomach. “I won’t apologize for not inviting you—”

“Let’s start with you putting words in my mouth.” There was a rigid set to Fox’s shoulders: defiant, defensive. “I never said you were a hookup.”

“And I said that I don’t do them.”

Fox exhaled a sharp breath and then braced his hands against the counter. “You ran away from me. Without an explanation. Nothing. We could’ve talked, like the adults that we are, but you fucking ran.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” You offered an exasperated smile. “It was just a kiss—”

“It meant nothing to you.”

“It was just—”

“A kiss.” Ire narrowed his eyes. “Yeah. I got that.” Releasing the counter, Fox scrubbed his jaw, eyeing you with an unfamiliar hostility that made you tense. “When I told you that I wanted you, what did you—”

“You don’t want me.” Your voice was inflectionless, dismissive. “You don’t even know me.”

Fox considered you for a long time. Then, scoffing with disbelief, he turned on his heel and started toward the door. However, halfway there, he paused. He looked over his shoulder.

“I pity you.” His voice was low and yet it carried in the silence: deafening. “You say that you want to be known—you’re a liar. You don’t want to be known. That means letting someone get close. Letting them see you. But you don’t let anyone in.” Steely anger hardened once-soft eyes. “You’re too fucking scared to give someone a chance.”

Before you could react, before you could respond, Fox strode through the door and disappeared down the walkway.

The next day, Coruscant’s afternoon shone as usual: unordinary, temperate. You were filing notes from your recent meeting with a donor when the front door swished open. The unfamiliar cadence in the visitor’s stroll informed you that it wasn’t Fox. The differences in armor—white accented with red, no kama—further confirmed it.

The Guard introduced himself as Commander Thire. You led him into the backroom where he checked the sword. He left with a perfunctory nod.

That night, huddled in a tight ball on one side of your bed, you gritted your teeth as tears puddled on your pillow. It didn’t matter that you were staring blankly out your window. They trickled down the planes of your face, as persistent as autumn’s drizzle pattering against red and gold leaves.

You were alone.

You would always be alone.

The next day, Commander Thire visited your gallery at the same time with the same professional indifference.

That night, you sat on your couch and watched hours of entertainment on the holo. It was mind-numbing. An endless relay of drama that kept you from thinking about him.

On the third day without Fox, you selected an elaborate recipe for dinner, purchased ingredients after work, and then spent four hours deliberating over your meal.

Finely chopped vegetables, each measured to an exact length.

A pretentious sauce requiring varied times of simmering, boiling, and cooling.

Stew, slow-cooked and mandating both counterclockwise and clockwise stirring.

Bread dough left to rise to an exact second, and then kneaded for a set number of rolls.

Thinly sliced citruses, marinating in a simple syrup and then muddled.

Once finished, you sipped the vegetable stew, savored the spices of the sautéed salad’s sauce, munched on the toasted bread, sipped your citrus-infused, nonalcoholic drink.

Throughout your silent dinner, you defended your actions and decision from a jury of mental critics. Not only were you protecting yourself, but you were saving Fox from eventual disappointment. He deserved better.

On the fourth day, while Commander Thire made his departure, you called after him: “How much longer of this?”

He paused. “ ‘Til Commander Fox deems the issue resolved.”

Your eyes narrowed. “It’s been four months. Do you really think the daily visits are necessary?”

“Commander Fox believes they are.” Commander Thire extended his chin in your direction. “He oversees this specific case. And he’s relentless with the things he wants.”

The fifth day without Fox’s presence, the 14th of Kelona, Zhellday, you were still mulling Commander Thire’s farewell from the previous day. For some reason, it was stuck in your mind. Snagged on an obstinate thorn.

And he’s relentless with the things he wants.

As you strolled out of the gallery and down a darkening walkway, you rolled your eyes. Fox was relentless. Persistent in his objectives. Consistent in his doggedness. His relentlessness went beyond his career—it was obvious in your last conversation. The demand for an explanation. And the harshness in his parting words.

I pity you.

Gods, you hated those three words. You hated the disdain on his face. You hated the way his judgement speared your chest and stripped you bare.

Your pace quickened with your anger.

How dare he judge you?

How dare he pity you?

The mere arrogance was fucking unbelievable.

For five days, you’d let his words exist without argument. Without debate. But he couldn’t have the last word, especially when his judgement was so inaccurate and uncalled for.

A sharp turn took you in the opposite direction of your apartment.

Twenty minutes later, you strode into the former military base, now headquarters for various military and security departments. A lift ride spat you out on the Department of Security’s floor. Three Guards, dressed in armor, were chuckling about something.

You strode toward the front desk. “Where’s Commander Fox’s office?”

One of the men—a dyed mohawk slicing across his head—rubbed the back of his neck. “Commander Fox doesn’t have any available appointments this late in the evening.”

“That’s fine.” You leaned against the desk’s counter. “I’ll wait for him to leave.”

Before the Guard with the mohawk could argue, a Guard with a cybernetic eye strode out of an adjacent office. Unlike the others, he didn’t wear any armor. He glanced you over. “Down the hall,” he said. The beginning of a smirk curled his lips. “Last door on the right.”

With a curt nod, you made your way down the hall. At the last door, you rapped the metal. The door immediately opened.

“You had—”

Your voice faltered as you took in the two men seated across from Fox. Commander Thire and another Guard.

“Sorry.” Embarrassment flushed through your upper body, and you retreated a step. “I’ll wait—”

“They were just leaving.” Fox rose to his feet, levelling a pointed look at the two men. “We’ll continue this later.”

Commander Thire and the other Guard stood, the latter muttering under his breath, “We just got here.” Commander Thire thwacked the back of his head.

As they made to leave, you scanned Fox’s office, taking in the stiff, gray couch pushed against an adjacent wall and a single holophoto mounted on the opposite wall. There were five men in the photo; they all wore different colored armor. You recognized Fox and Cody, and to your surprise, the Guard with the cybernetic. The two other men you weren’t familiar with.

The swoosh of the door announced Commander Thire and the other Guard’s departure.

You faced Fox. He’d rounded his desk and was leaning against its front edge: relaxed, unflappable. It annoyed you.

“You had no right to say that you pity me,” you snapped. “You don’t know me—”

“I do.” Fox tucked his hands into his pockets. His gaze was steady on yours. “I’ve spent the last four months getting to know you. I know you better than you think.”

“Is that so?” He remained quietly composed, and you shook your head. He didn’t know the real you; the realization hollowed a wan smile on your mouth. “I’m opinionated and self-righteous.”

He merely arched a brow.

“I’m a perfectionist,” you said calmly. There was a desperation unspooling within you—a desperate need for him to see your flaws, your issues, and reject you. So you could finally move on. “To the point of being overly critical of both myself and those around me. I prefer things to be a certain way.”

Fox nodded solemnly.

“I’m self-preserving.” Your eyes narrowed at his unaffected demeanor. He needed to understand; you needed to make him see to understand. “I’m cold. Some probably consider me heartless.”

“I’m well aware of your flaws.” Fox spoke with an equanimity that made you stiffen. His eyes swept across your face. “I have them, too. I can be controlling when stressed. Dismissive of others’ feelings. Blunt and apathetic—so much so, it comes across as condescending.”

“We’re not talking about you.” He started to chuckle. “I’m not having kids.”

The statement cut through his chuckle and he sobered.

A knowing smirk sliced across your face. “I’m selfish when it comes to my physical and mental health, and I know myself. I know that I won’t make a good mother. But I do know that most men want kids—”

“Some of my brothers have kids. You know that.” Fox turned a smug smirk on you. “But I never imagined children in my future. I like being an uncle. That’s it.”

You gritted your teeth. “I don’t do blow jobs.”

Fox released a choked noise, and he brought a hand to his mouth, running his thumb along his lower lip. He looked…the bastard looked amused.

He was supposed to be disillusioned by these revelations. Suddenly uninterested, disgruntled. Not fucking amused.

“I don’t like being choked or roughly used or humiliated.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “I refuse to be used.”

Fox nodded thoughtfully. “All right.”

His blasé response was simultaneously shocking and irksome. You frowned. “I’m being serious.”

“I know.” He shrugged at your bemused glower. “I don’t care how you touch me. And I can be satisfied with just your hands. You learned that a few nights ago.”

“I don’t believe you—”

“I almost came in my trousers that night. All because you fucking touched me.” He chuckled humorlessly. “Don’t question the effect you have on my body.”

Your lips pressed in a thin line.

Fox tapped the edge of his desk. “Would you suck my cock if I didn’t fuck your mouth? If I let you…do whatever you wanted?”

“I…” You pressed a palm to your chest, massaging it.

The thought of tasting him—running your tongue along his shaft, sucking on the tip, exploring his body with slow licks—without the fear of expectation or being used was…appealing. You wanted to listen to his moans, and feel him tremble beneath your touches, and watch him come apart.

You wanted to be with him; you wanted to experience the physical intimacy.

But, even if he didn’t fuck your mouth, it didn’t matter.

“I’m not good at sex.” You stared at him, weary, drained. “I’m slow, and I struggle to orgasm, even on my own, and penetration can hurt. It’s a waste of time—”

“I fucking hate when you say that.” Annoyance hardened the consonants of his words as Fox scowled at you. He exhaled a long breath and then pierced you with an exasperated stare. “A man won’t give a shit how long you take. So long as he gets to see you naked—so long as he gets to touch you—he’ll take whatever time is necessary.”

“You’re ignoring the part about penetration—”

“There are other ways to find pleasure.”

“Sure, but sex is—”

“A learning curve.” Fox mimicked your stance, arms crossing his chest. “I don’t care if it takes months. I don’t care if it takes years. I don’t care if I spend the rest of my fucking life learning. All that matters to me is being honest with one another. And being willing to learn.”

You dug your fingernails into your biceps. “I don’t have the body type that men want.”

“You’re generalizing men’s wants,” Fox said sharply. “But you don’t know what I want. You’ve never asked.”

You clenched and unclenched your jaw. “What do you want?”

“You.” Fox straightened to his full height and stepped forward. “I’ve already told you this—”

“You don’t want me, Fox.” Your voice was quiet, as hollow as you felt. “You may want me temporarily, but it won’t last.”

“Yeah? How do you know that?”

As he closed the distance between your bodies, you backed into the door, eyeing him.

“You’ll be disappointed with me,” you said. “Or you’ll grow bored.”

Fox braced his hands on opposite sides of your head. Trapping you.

“I don’t think you’re taking my points about sex seriously—”

“Sex is only one part of a relationship. And I fell in—” He swallowed. “I want to be with you because I like you. I like being around you. I’ve had four months to get to know you—flaws and all—and I’m still here.”

The intensity of his gaze was too much to bear, so you lowered your eyes to a point on his chest. This close, you could see the failed attempt to remove a scorch mark just above his heart.

“You said you pity me,” you whispered.

“I…was angry,” he said quietly, regretfully. “At you. With myself. I shouldn’t have said it. I’m sorry.”

A combination of sweat and something woody—cedar—enveloped you. As tangible as the arms caging you against the door.

“I can’t promise that I’ll be the perfect man,” Fox murmured. “But I’ll hold myself accountable for my mistakes. And I’ll strive to be a good man.”

Emotion flared within your chest, tightening your lungs, constricting the back of your throat.

This was supposed to be easy. Simple. He was supposed to dismiss you—see your issues and turn the other way.

“You aren’t perfect.” Your eyes were trained on his chest plate, but you could feel the heat of his gaze on your face. He lowered his face a smidge. Your eyes met his. “I don’t expect you to be perfect. We’re human. We fuck up. We get angry. We disagree. It’s our nature.”

“But there are better options,” you said hoarsely. “Better women—”

“I don’t want them.” His hands flexed against the door. “I want you.”

You shook your head.

There were other flaws, you were certain of it, that would deter him. Make him realize he deserved the best this galaxy had to offer.

You searched the crevasses and chasms of your mind, seeking out the organized list. But you’d already named the worst offenders. Would your preference to go to bed early qualify as a disqualifier?

“I’m going back home.” You were trembling. “In three years. I’m leaving, and I’m not coming back.”

“I’d like to see the stars.”

“Don’t—” You looked away, swallowing the emotion threatening to release. It churned hot and volatile within you. “Don’t do this. Please.”

“Let me in—”

“You could hurt me.” Your back flattened against the door; your fingers scraped the metal. “You could really hurt me.”

Silence, and then: “Look at me.”

You ground your teeth.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes lifted to his and, against your will, it happened. A single tear leaked onto your cheek, slowly drifting downwards, leaving an unmistakable trail.

Quickly, you went to wipe it away. But just as swiftly, Fox grabbed your wrist, pressing it against the door. His eyes wandered along the tear’s trail to its conclusive end at the drop off of your chin, and then returned to yours.

“Let me love you,” he said quietly.

Undeserving.

Unlovable.

Never enough.

Another tear splashed from the corner of your eye.

“I’m scared,” you whispered.

“I know.” Fox released your wrist and flattened both hands against the door once more. “You’re gonna have to trust me.”

“I don’t know how to.”

“Let me in, and I’ll show you.”

A part of you wanted to close your eyes, press your palms to your ears, curl inwards on yourself until it all disappeared. Fox. The last four months. That damned tiny hand pounding against your ribcage, insistent for him. You wanted to ignore it all. Pretend none of it had happened.

A greater part of you—a part tired of being alone, tired of the hollowness within you—silenced your two closest allies and their lurking whispers.

“I need space.” You felt empty, worn. “I need space to think about…everything.”

Fox surveyed you for a moment, tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and then gave a short nod. “I’ll walk you back to your place.”

The first day after your conversation, Commander Thire reappeared for the daily visit. His now-familiar face was a relief. You were grateful for Fox’s consideration.

On the evening of the second day, you slipped into your sequined dress and creamy heels, treated yourself to a private dinner, and then returned to the Museum. You spent four hours perusing levels five, four, and three.

Another three days elapsed without Fox and you went to the transport center, purchasing tickets to Lefaepa for the 1st of Yelona. No matter what happened, you were resolved to return home for the Harvest Festival.

After six days, on the evening of the 20th of Kelona, you retrieved your comm and messaged Fox: 0525.

The code to your apartment building.

Masterlist | Part III - Part V

A/N: I feel like I owe an explanation.

For an embarrassingly long time in my life, I thought blowjobs were supposed to be rough. I blame it on the media I consumed. Books and fanfic, alike, always portrayed them as a very rough activity. It became ingrained in me. Blowjobs were rough. And you simply had to take it.

I wasn't interested in rough. And I thought that because I lacked that interest, then there was something wrong with me. Eventually, just the thought of sex nauseated me. If a guy showed interest in me, I immediately cut him out because I was scared of the possibility of sex and blowjobs.

It's taken me a lot of years to process and deconstruct this belief. It's something I still struggle with; I find it hard to believe, at times, that there are men who can be content without rough blowjobs. One of the ways I'm trying to "normalize" non-rough sex for me is through writing. It's why I've avoided writing explicit blowjob scenes for my most recent stories, and why there's been an emphasis on my MMCs being gentle when it's been explored. I know that I neglect male pleasure and prioritize female pleasure in my writing; so I wanted to explain why that is.

Also, this is NOT to shame people who enjoy certain types of sex. This is simply for me to see my personal wants/boundaries normalized and represented in fic. Thank you for understanding.

#Let Me Love You #commander fox x fem!reader #commander fox x reader

20 notes · View notes

cheynovak · 3 months ago

Text

The shadowsinger - Part 1

Characters: Azriel x F/Reader: Y/N

Summary: Y/N, the niece of Lucien, has fled an arranged marriage, only to find herself hunted by her cruel uncle, Beron. Lost in the cold woods, she is discovered by Azriel, who is reminded of his own painful past. He brings her back to Velaris, but the journey is only beginning.

Warnings: Slow burn

English is not my first language

*This story is my own original story, please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated*

The icy wind cut through Y/N's thin cloak, searing her skin as she stumbled through the dense forest. The once vibrant colors of autumn had turned into a bleak winter, with snow starting to fall, slowly covering the trail of blood she left behind. Her legs trembled from exhaustion, but she couldn't stop, wouldn't stop. Not with Beron's men behind her, their footsteps echoing in the distance.

Y/N was Lucien's niece, a daughter of Autumn, but that title had brought her nothing but pain. Her father had struck a deal with Beron, promising her hand in marriage to some brute from a distant court in exchange for power. She had refused, and when her objections were ignored, she had done the only thing she could think of—she ran.

But running from the Autumn Court wasn't easy. Not when your own blood hunted you down, intending to drag you back to a life of misery. A life where she'd be bound, broken, and used as a pawn in their games.

Her breath came in ragged gasps, her vision blurring as the cold seeped into her bones. She had been so close to Velaris, so close to safety, to Lucien. But now, it seemed that her journey would end in these woods, frozen and alone.

A sharp pain shot through her leg as she tripped over a hidden root, crashing into the snow-covered ground. She cried out, but the sound was swallowed by the howling wind. Y/N's body refused to move, her strength completely spent.

She didn't even have the energy to be afraid anymore. As her vision faded, she thought of Lucien the one person who had always shown her kindness despite the darkness of their court. She had wanted to reach him, to tell him everything, but now…

Darkness crept in, and she was too tired to fight it.

But just as she began to surrender to the cold embrace of death, she felt something, a weird fog surrounding her, the smell of night-chilled mist and cedar filled her nose. Is this what dead feel like, she wondered. The shadow, wrapped around her, as if shielding her from the cold.

"Hold on," a deep voice murmured, filled with a kind of pain she understood all too well. "I’ve got you."

Azriel had been patrolling the borders of Velaris when he sensed it—a faint pulse of life in the woods, so weak it was nearly indistinguishable from the falling snow. His shadows had led him to her, and the sight of her had nearly stopped his heart.

She was so small, so fragile, her body marred with cuts and bruises. Blood stained the snow around her, and her skin was pale as death. But it was her face, her broken expression, that struck a chord deep within him. It reminded him of Mor, of how he had found her centuries ago, broken and discarded.

Without hesitation, Azriel scooped her up, his shadows curling around them to provide warmth. He could feel her faint heartbeat, a fluttering thing that was growing weaker by the second. He needed to get her to Velaris, to the House of Wind. She would be safe there, far from the reach of Beron and the Autumn Court.

His wings beat against the wind as he took off, cradling her close to his chest. The journey was swift, but every second felt like an eternity. He couldn't lose her—not when he had the power to save her. Not when he had failed so many before.

By the time they reached the House of Wind, Y/N was barely conscious, her body limp in his arms. Azriel moved quickly, alerting the healers and settling her into one of the largest, most comfortable bedrooms, but she was slipping away.

"Stay with me," he whispered, his voice hoarse as he watched over her, his shadows swirling anxiously. "You’re safe now. You’re in Velaris."

But she didn't respond. Her breathing was shallow, her skin cold despite the fire roaring in the hearth. He couldn't leave her like this—not even for a moment.

Azriel stayed by her side, shadows comforting her as best they could, until finally, she let out a small sigh and drifted into unconsciousness. He didn’t move, not even when the healers came, knowing that if he let her out of his sight, he might lose her.

When Y/N woke again, alone, it was to the sight of a large, unfamiliar room. The bed she lay in was soft, the blankets thick and warm, but it did nothing to quell the fear that gripped her heart. Where was she? Had Beron's men taken her back to the Autumn Court? Was this some new prison they had locked her in?

She tried to sit up, but her body protested, every muscle aching. Panic rose in her chest, and she looked around frantically, searching for a way out. The room was luxurious, the walls adorned with beautiful art, and the furniture carved from rich wood. It didn't look like a prison, but she knew better than to trust appearances. She noticed a shadowy smoke retrieve out of the room.

She jumped out of bed running out the door afraid didn't look where she was going.

The hallways were wide and grand, with tall ceilings and sunlight streaming through large windows. But she didn't notice the beauty around her, too consumed by the fear that had her heart pounding in her chest. Every step sent a fresh wave of pain through her battered body, but she ignored it, the adrenaline urging her to keep moving.

She glanced over her shoulder, expecting to see the smoke curling toward her like a predator. But instead, she ran straight into something solid—a wall of muscle that nearly sent her sprawling backward.

Y/N gasped, looking up into the eyes of the man she had seen before she blacked out. He was real? And he was taller than she remembered, more imposing. His face was a picture of calm, but there was an intensity in his hazel eyes that made her stomach twist with a mix of fear and something else—something she couldn't quite name.

Her eyes widened when she noticed the broad wings that flared slightly behind him, the dark, powerful wings of an Illyrian warrior. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, drowning out any words he might have said. Was this another trick? Another means to control her? Beron had always despised the Illyrians, but perhaps that had changed… perhaps he had found a way to use them against her.

The man was speaking, his deep voice low and steady, but the sound was muffled as if she were underwater. She stumbled back, trying to escape, but his strong hands caught her arms, holding her in place—not painfully, but firmly enough to keep her from falling.

He was saying something, his voice cutting through the noise in her head as he gently squeezed her arm, trying to ground her.

“Hey,” he said, his voice clear now, but still laced with concern. “You’re safe. You’re in Velaris.”

Y/N flinched at his touch, her entire body tensing as if she expected him to hurt her. But he didn’t. His grip was steady, his hands warm, and despite her fear, she could feel a strange sense of calm trying to break through the panic.

“Velaris,” he repeated, more gently this time, his eyes never leaving hers. “No one will hurt you here. You’re safe.”

Safe. The word echoed in her mind, battling against the terror that had consumed her since she fled the Autumn Court. Safe.

But it was hard to believe. Hard to trust after everything she had been through. She searched his eyes, looking for any sign of deceit, any hint that this was another cruel game. But all she saw was sincerity, a quiet strength that promised he was telling the truth.

“I… I saw shadows,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“They’re mine,” he said, his tone softening even more. “They won’t harm you. They were just watching over you, keeping you safe.”

His words were a balm to her frayed nerves, and slowly, the panic began to recede. The man—this Illyrian warrior—he had saved her, hadn’t he? The memories were fuzzy, but she remembered the warmth of his presence, the way his shadows had wrapped around her in the cold, protecting her from the death that had been so close.

“I’m Azriel,” he said, his grip on her arms loosening now that he saw some of the fear leaving her eyes. “You’re in the House of Wind. No one can reach you here. Not Beron, not anyone.”

Y/N’s knees felt weak, the fight draining out of her as the reality of his words settled in. Velaris. She had made it. She was in Velaris. And this male, Azriel, had been the one to bring her here, to save her from freezing to death in the woods.

“Lucien…” she breathed, the name of her uncle a desperate plea. “Is he here? I need to find him.”

Azriel nodded, his expression softening at the mention of Lucien. “He’ll be here soon,” he assured her. “We sent word to him as soon as we found you.”

Relief flooded through Y/N, but with it came a bone-deep exhaustion. Her body sagged against Azriel’s as the adrenaline faded, leaving her trembling with fatigue.

“Easy,” Azriel murmured, gently lifting her up and guiding her back toward the room she had fled from. “You need to rest. I promise, you’re safe here.” She heard him say while she fought her eyes to stay open.

“Rest now. I’ll be nearby if you need anything.”

Y/N watched as he quietly left the room, closing the door behind him. The last thing she saw before sleep claimed her was the shadows that lingered in the corners, no longer a source of fear, but a silent promise of protection.

For a week, Y/N drifted in and out of consciousness, her body too weak to do anything more than rest and heal. Every time she awoke, she found herself in the same soft bed, the same comforting warmth surrounding her, but she never stayed awake long enough to gather her thoughts. It was as if her body demanded the sleep, pulling her back under before she could fully wake.

But then, one morning, she heard a familiar voice—a voice that cut through the haze of sleep and pulled her fully awake for the first time since her escape.

“Lucien?” she whispered, sitting up in bed.

The room was quiet, the early morning light filtering through the curtains. Her body no longer ached as it had before, and for the first time, she felt a semblance of strength return to her limbs. Pushing back the blankets, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, surprised at how steady she felt. The soft fabric of her borrowed pajamas brushed against her skin as she stood, and she took a moment to steady herself before following the sound of voices down the hallway.

The House of Wind was vast, its halls echoing with the distant sound of conversation. As Y/N made her way toward the source of the voices, she noticed how quiet the house was, as if it were still asleep. But the closer she got to the kitchen, the more clearly she could hear them—Lucien’s voice, familiar and comforting, and Azriel’s, deep and calm.

When she reached the doorway, she paused, taking in the scene before her. Lucien was standing near the counter, his back to her, but she would recognize him anywhere. Relief and emotion swelled in her chest at the sight of him, but she held back, not wanting to interrupt.

Azriel was there too, leaning casually against the wall, his wings tucked neatly behind him. But they weren’t alone. Another Illyrian warrior stood nearby, his presence commanding and intense. A woman with golden-brown hair, elegant and poised, stood beside him, her eyes kind but sharp. And then, seated at the head of the table, were two figures that made Y/N’s breath catch in her throat.

The High Lord and Lady of the Night Court—Rhysand and Feyre.

Rhysand’s dark hair framed a face that was as beautiful as it was powerful, his violet eyes watching her with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. Feyre, beside him, was no less striking, her beauty softened by an air of quiet strength. Together, they were a force, a power that Y/N had only ever heard whispers of.

Her instincts kicked in, and she bowed quickly, feeling a flush of embarrassment as she realized she was still in her pajamas. What kind of impression must she be making, stumbling in like this?

“Y/N,” Lucien’s voice was warm and full of relief as he turned to her. But before he could say more, Rhysand’s voice cut through the air.

“There’s no need for bows here,” Rhysand said, his tone gentle but firm. “You’re among friends.”

Y/N straightened slowly, her heart still pounding. The High Lord’s presence was overwhelming, but his words were kind, putting her slightly at ease.

Feyre stepped forward, her expression softening as she looked at Y/N. “Are you feeling better?” she asked, her voice laced with concern. “Azriel told us what happened, but we wanted to hear it from you, if you’re ready to talk.”

Y/N’s gaze flicked to Azriel, who was watching her with that same soft smile she had seen before, his eyes holding a warmth she hadn’t expected. It gave her the courage to speak, to explain.

As she spoke, the memories of her escape came flooding back— the terror, the desperation, the cold that had nearly claimed her life. She glanced at Lucien, who was listening intently, his face filled with anger and concern.

“I tried to make it to Velaris,” Y/N continued, her voice trembling slightly. “But I didn’t know where to go. I got lost in the woods, and the cold… I thought I was going to die out there.”

At that, Elain, who had been standing quietly beside Lucien, gasped softly, her eyes wide with sympathy. Y/N hadn’t even noticed her until now, but there was something gentle and understanding in her gaze that made Y/N feel a little less alone.

“It was Azriel who found me,” Y/N said, turning her gaze back to him. “He saved me. Brought me here.”

Azriel’s smile remained, though his eyes were somber. “You were brave to make it as far as you did,” he said softly. “We’re glad you made it.”

Rhysand nodded, his expression serious. “You can stay here as long as you need,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Beron has no reach in Velaris. You’re safe here.”

Y/N felt a wave of relief wash over her at his words, the tension in her body finally beginning to ease. She had made it. She was safe. And for the first time in what felt like forever, she believed it. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude as she looked around the room, at the people who had taken her in, who had offered her a place to heal.

Azriel walked over to her, inclined his head, his expression softening as he said:

“Welcome to the Night Court.”

Please like, share or comment when you liked the story. If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

If you want to be updated on this story or other ACOTAR fanfics, let me know and I'll gladly start a taglist.

#acotar #acosf #fanfic #azriel #the shadowsinger #acotar fanfic #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fandom

46 notes · View notes