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lucysstoryworld · 6 months ago

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The Tormented & The Unforgiven | Azriel x Reader

Summary: What happens when one of Azriel's most trusted spies, someone he is beginning to care for, betrays him?

Warnings: This is dark and quite graphic. Abuse, torture, waterboarding, death. MDNI. Angst.

Word Count: 7,558

Masterlist

This wasn't happening... this was all just a sick nightmare. You'd wake up at any moment now, tangled in the sheets of your bed. The sun rising over a cool winter morning and trickling through your window would lull you from your slumber at any moment, you were certain. You tried to pinch yourself and were met with a tug. As if on cue, a dull yet deep ache permeated from your shoulders to your arms. A tingling feeling vibrated your fingertips, chained above your head. Oh... yes. Breaths rattled through your lungs, a crackling filling the dank space.

Definitely not happening... surely not.

Opening your eyes was a chore. They stung, the faelight from the hallway burned your retinas. A low hiss and another attempt later, your eyes remained open. The ache in your neck felt insignificant compared to that of those pulsing at random points in your body. The gorsian shackles choking your wrists and ankles ensured the pain would last. An low, agonised moan escaped your lips.

Definitely is happening. The agony that spread through every nerve of your body was all the proof you needed. Raising your head, you desperately tried to clear the fog. You were suspended from the ceiling with gorsian shackles, with matching chains gripping your ankles. The smell of damp and mould was almost as distracting as the cold that nipped at your body and heightened the ache of your injuries. There were small puddles on the floor beneath you, a leaking roof too - high risk of infection to the wounds that were littered across your body. Your mind was still lagging behind reality, your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. Breathe. Remember your training.

A deep breath in, you focused on filling your lungs to their capacity. Pursing your lips, you blew the breath out slowly. Your focus remained solely on controlling the exhalation, all the way until there was nothing left. You repeated this twice more, just as your boss had trained you. Our job can be terrifying at times, this technique can help you focus and bring your heart rate down. Make our decision making more rational, he had said. He was right, you had come to realise. The breathing exercise had allowed you to calm down on more than a handful of occasions. That being said, it did not make your current situation any easier to understand. You remembered how you got here now... and you still couldn't wrap your head around it.

***

It was a normal day, for you at least. Returning from a mission a day previous, you had today to report your findings to Azriel and to rest. Exhaustion laid heavy on your body, the mission had been a long one with little reward. Although every mission had been similar to that as of late. While Eris was to be somewhat trusted, as Azriel had put it, it would be unwise to not send his own spies to make sure the High Lord and Lady were not being blindsided. So that was your detail. Stake out the Autumn Court and High Lord Beron along with his family. Figure out what was occurring behind the curtains and try to discover Beron's motives... at least so Azriel didn't have to rely on the word of Eris Vanserra. Though your boss had warned you to keep as much distance as you could, with all the Autumn Court soldiers being bewitched he did not wish that fate on you or any of your colleagues... yet you couldn't help the flutter in your heart when he had expressed this concern while looking directly into your eyes. You allowed yourself the small comfort (or delusion) of believing he told you this because he cared about you.

You used to have a rendezvous point with the Spymaster. Yet, after a rough mission in which you were too incapacitated to move from your bed, it soon became the routine for you and Azriel to debrief at your home. Not that you were complaining. You lived a solitary life being in your line of work. There were no records of your existence anywhere, no family to remember you nor any friend to seek your company. A truly invisible female. Apart from Azriel of course, though you were sure he did not see you as a friend or even acquaintance, just his employee. Not even his second in command. Though it did not stop you from feeling excited by his visits. They reminded you that you were alive. That you, at least, had one person who knew of your existence. So, with the butterflies of a youth in your stomach, you prepared for your visitor. You had already written out your report and left it sitting on your living room table. You had dressed in your usual style, and waited for Azriel to come to your door. The rushing of the Sidra filled your living area through the open window. Your generous salary as a spy allowed you to build this house, along the youthful stage of the river where it raced downhill and eventually through Velaris. You had not yet laid your eyes on the city that was only a depiction in your mind from how Azriel had described it. You knew he trusted you at least that much, to allow you to know where he resided. He had once offered to bring you there. Then the war happened and it became the last thing on either of your minds.

A series of knocks pulled you from your wandering thoughts. The seemingly nondescript rhythm of taps on the door made sure you knew who was on the other side. You fought back the slight grin that threatened to widen. You chided yourself, you were acting no better than the human females in the tales of princesses and knights you had read as a teenager. Your teenaged years had been rough, you had travelled up and down Prythian five times over, stealing and tricking to get by. You knew you wouldn't live as long as other fae did back then, your way of life bound to end you sooner rather than later by means of starvation or by disgruntled merchants. The books you nicked from time to time allowed you to fall into a different reality for a short while where life was much simpler. Where life consisted of whether or not the stars would align and let the princess remain with her true love. A moment later, you opened the door with the signature smile stretching across your lips. As quick as your smile appeared, it disappeared. Azriel was not alone.

Standing beside your boss was another Illyrian male few inches shorter though no less intimidating. For every blue siphon Azriel possessed, this male had just as many red ones. This must be Cassian, the General. You glanced at your boss warily, feeling slightly betrayed by him as your privacy was breached. Though from the look of his amber gaze, you knew it was not a good time to tackle him on it.

"Come in," You mumbled confusedly and widened the door. They stepped in and you watched as Azriel guided the warlord to sit at the table you had just been daydreaming at moments ago. "Would you like anything to eat or drink?" Careful, you warned yourself. Something wasn't right about this situation. Instinct had you scrambling to gain control of the unfolding events.

"No. Sit down," Azriel ordered. This was not the male you were accustomed to. While one could never describe Azriel as flamboyant, he was also not usually this cold toward around you. Quiet yet caring, not cold and calculating.

"Yes, sir," was your reply and you settled in the seat opposite the two males. Your heart was beginning to thump in anticipation. Your tendencies had you wishing you at least had your dagger nearby. You trust him, you always have, the voice in your mind whispered. Reaching out to open the report between the three of you, you did not miss how the General tensed ever so slightly. It was a movement so slight that, to the untrained eye, it would have been unnoticeable. Meeting Azriel's eyes once again, you allowed the confusion to show on your face. "I assume you want the report of my previous mission in Autumn." You weren't sure if it was a question or a statement.

A few beats of silence passed and both males stared you down. You waited, staring back. If there was something amiss, you would not allow them to think it was something to do with you. "Go ahead." Azriel's tone was so... cruel. Like you were a mouse caught in the claws of a street cat. Like he was toying with you.

You would not bite. If there was an issue, they were more than capable of speaking plain to you. "As you know, this mission spanned a period of four months," You began. As you continued to debrief your mission, you felt as though you were speaking to brick walls. While both sets of eyes remained solely focused on you, they seemed to be looking through you. As though what you were saying was insignificant. You tried to make sense of it. There was no major outcomes of your mission, so perhaps that was the reason for their demeanour. "I observed a member of High Lord Beron's spy circle enter and leave fairly often. I could not get close enough to determine why or what was the reason for these visits. I dug as much as I could but could only ascertain that it had something to do with Eris. If he has been absent then it is likely because he is being watched closely." Closing the report, you slid it across the table to Azriel, "Anything I may have missed will be in my report like always." You never missed out on any detail, though you always said it to Azriel.

You sat back in your chair. There was usually some discussion after you finished your report. Azriel would question you on various parts of your account in order to try make a connection that you could have missed. When you were new to the world of being a spy, it annoyed you to no end. You did not enjoy being second guessed. Azriel had explained to you that all he wished to do was brainstorm with you, try to figure out the puzzles together. A problem shared is a problem halved. So the lack of conversation after only added to uncertainty and began to grate on your nerves.

"Anything else?" The General pressed. Your head shot to him. He looked ready to pounce on you at any moment.

Heckles raised, your brows furrowed, "No?"

"Are you sure?" Azriel bit. If Cassian looked ready to pounce, Azriel looked ready to kill.

"Yes, I'm sure," You snapped back, heart beginning to race. "Can you cut it out? Get to the point!"

You cursed yourself for slightly jumping when Azriel's fist slammed against your wooden table. Your mind ran in circles around itself trying to decipher what it was that you had done to have your boss so visibly angry. So visibly struggling to control his fury. "I am being more than patient with you. You have one final chance to reveal what you have done... I cannot and will not refrain from extrapolating it through any means necessary." His voice was a vicious growl that seemed to make your very bones tremble.

Your stomach felt weak, your cool and calm spy demeanour a thing of the past. Sweat accumulated along your brow as your eyes frantically darted between your boss and the General. "I-I..." You hesitated. You were drawing a blank and a curse quickly followed from your breath at just how guilty you looked, especially to one so keen as the Spymaster of Night himself. "I truly do not know what this is about... please I'm sure whatever has happened is some sort of miscommunication." You nearly fell over your chair as you stumbled out of it, trying to create some distance between yourself and the hulking Illyrians who were beginning to stalk towards you in a strange unison. They didn't appear to be doing it consciously though that did nothing to ease the terror snaking up your spine as they drew nearer. "Azriel please... you must believe me. I don't know what this is about. You know me!" It was true. Azriel was the only living soul on The Mother's land that knew you through and through.

A cruel snort from Azriel seemed to dash any hope from you. "I thought I did, though that was my mistake," Azriel replied. In an instant both males grabbed your arms and forced you to your knees. You hated to admit it, but the feeling of betrayal had tears beginning to line your eyes. You hated it even more when you began to plead with him, beg him to believe you. However neither Cassian nor Azriel replied. They only secured chains around your wrists and ankles and a charmed sack over your head. The sack blocked all sound and sight, not even a crack of light. Your panic created a lump in your through as the only noise to greet you was your own laboured breaths. The tears finally dribbled over when your felt the hands of Azriel and Cassian roughly push and shove you to and fro. You knew where you were headed. You had delivered a target or two to the dungeons of the Hewn City -- well you had delivered them to Azriel's second in command, or Azriel himself, to bring there.

You knew that those targets never left those dungeons either.

***

You remembered now. Some time had passed from then... a few days... a few weeks... you weren't sure. It was so desperately, desperately dark down here. You had been rendered unconscious a number of times. Whatever information Azriel believed you possessed translated to him using all manner of force to squeeze it out of you. He allowed other members of his spy circle... your spy circle to torture this mystery information out. He knew the betrayal would cut deeper than any blade or whip ever could. Despite the kindness within Azriel, he was a talented torturer. He seemed to know that mere flesh wounds wouldn't break someone like you. You had known cuts and bruises long before you ever came into Azriel's employ. And he knew that. Seeing the quiet rage in your former colleagues eyes, seeing your own betrayal reflected in their gazes, tore something in you. You had worked with each one of them on one mission or another. Now they were taking their pain out on you... traitor had been imbedded onto your torso by Alyia in her native tongue from the continent. Elijah had pulled out your molars, his knife tearing strips from your gums in the process. Oscar ripped three fingernails from you. You screamed and wailed that you knew nothing. That this was a mistake. Though your pleas had fallen on deaf ears.

So you hung there, despair your only company until the next barrage began. No one would believe you, that much was painfully obvious now. They would not allow you a quick nor painless death... so you stopped eating and drinking. You would at least keep your dignity in controlling your own death, even if your mouth had the consistency of sandpaper and hunger pains were a torture in their own right.

Footsteps began to echo toward your cell. They were light, but making themselves known. Azriel. He had not shown himself since you had been dragged here. A strategic move on his part. He was saving his presence until it was absolutely necessary, you were sure. He allowed your colleagues to begin chipping away at your presumed resolve. Allowed them to begin cracking you, so he could deliver the final blow and reveal all your secrets. You raised your head, waiting for him with half lidded eyes. Seeing him standing there, wings flared and a tray in hand, brought a rush of emotions. Anger, rage, despair, betrayal, injustice. You wanted to scream at him, to curse his name and his existence. The urge bubbled in your chest. However, when you laid your eyes upon him, it all died on your tongue. What use had screaming gotten you thus far. Thus, you dipped your chin once again.

You closed your eyes and listened as he passed through the door. Listened as he placed the tray on the table that had held pliers, daggers and whips in the prior hours. You felt his shadows snake and slither over your aching body. They seemed to bite and nip at each of your injuries. You twitched at their barrage, it felt like tiny needles poking at your mangled body. Even so, you would not raise your head. As silent as a mouse, Azriel moved to stand before you. His shiny boots were all you could see. A groan erupted from you when he grabbed your cheeks and forced your head upright. His amber eyes burned with hatred, though they wandered all over your faced. Lingered on the swelling on your left eye that would soon become too large for you to open and close.

"Hunger strike, really?" He questioned unimpressed, squeezing your cheeks so hard that the cuts inside your mouth reopened and dribbled out of your lips onto his gloved hand.

You stared through him, forcing your mind out of that dingy cell and back to your peaceful home. If you thought hard enough, you could hear the flowing Sidra over the noise of your own agony. If you thought hard enough, you could smell the breads you used to make more than the smell of your blood. If you thought hard enough, you could transport yourself to a reality where this wasn't happening.

A harsh slap reeled you back into the dungeon. Stars danced across your vision. The lack of food and water made that slap feel like a punch. When they cleared, you gazed upon the cruel beauty of Azriel Shadowsinger. It seemed like eons ago that this male set butterflies afloat in your stomach. Now all he did was set led weighing on your stomach. "Keep your eyes on me." You hated the way you obeyed. You were terrified of the horrors Azriel could release unto you. It was no secret to anyone in Prythian the creativity he possessed in the arts of torture. He raised a cup of water to your lips. No. You jerked back, clenching your teeth together. He struggled with you, holding the back of your head. Shaking your head, you dodged his attempt to hydrate you by any means necessary. His fingers curled around your blood-matted hair, and he yanked with all his might. You shrieked at the pain and Azriel used the excuse to pour the water in. You choked and sputtered until you expelled as much of it as you could.

"Fuck you!" You coughed out, your throat raw and breaths heaving.

An impatient snarl passed through Azriel's lips. He walked back to the small table to where the tray rested. You watched this time, and saw that the tray consisted of three jugs and some rags, along with the cup in his hand. One of the jugs slammed back onto the table, its contents spilling over the edged. "Let's try this again, agent," Azriel spoke steady. "You will drink and then you will eat. You will not get out of this the easy way. Is that clear?" His tone promised violence.

"No," You voice was low but defiant.

A humoured chuckle escaped the Spymaster as he returned to your front. "I was not requesting," Was all he said before he grabbed your head again and attempted to force the water down your neck. You thrashed and shook, though a couple drops managed their way past your protests. You detested that the cool water felt nice on your raw throat. The struggle continued until the remanets of the glass dribbled down the rags that covered your battered body.

Wordlessly, Azriel returned the table again. This time, he abandoned his cup and picked up the jug. And a rag. "I gave you two chances to drink properly," He began and immersed the rag into the jug. Your heart began to race like it had many times over the last while. Taking the rag out of the water, Azriel held it over your face. His hand slid to the back of your head and held your hair so tight that you couldn't move an inch. Before you had a chance to take a breath, Azriel began to pour the water slowly over the rag. You tried to gasp, though the water made you splutter and choke. Your mind went wild with panic, your chest heaving in attempt to draw in enough air. Trying to scream only resulted in weak groans and more choking. "This will go on for as long as you wish to protest," Azriel began. "I will have the water topped up regularly. You will not know more than a moments peace until you either confess what you have done or until you have decided to eat and drink." Dread swirled in your guts. You had enacted this very torture on a male before, it really could go on for hours. For as long as was necessary.

"I-I-" You tried to choke out. The water halted for a moment. "I don't know what I must confess! Azriel please-!"

"Don't. You. Dare!" Azriel roared. You body trembled and your head pounded from his grip on your hair. "Cut the shit!"

For the first time since you had been brought here, a loud sob ripped through your throat. You had screamed and wailed from the torture before, but you hadn't outright cried like this. Your pride had prevented it. Now, you couldn't control the sobs that shook your body. It had seemed to pause Azriel for the moment, for he did not move or speak. He just let you cry. Your eyes burned from the tears and your tears burned the gashes on your face. Your heart weighed heavy in your body, hopelessness withered your soul. Your jaw clenched as you heaved. "This is some sick joke," You whispered to yourself. "Please just tell me if it's a joke, I'll forgive everyone I promise."

"This is no joke," Azriel spoke softly. Softly like one would speak to a lover. You wished that were the case. But instead, the water began to trickle over your face again.

***

It had been a few days since Azriel had returned to Velaris. Your silence troubled him greatly. He must've waterboarded you for at least five hours, only stopping when you had passed out from hyperventilation. Troubled, yet impressed. He had never known another target to last that long. They either cracked, confessed or passed out much earlier. Azriel chalked it up to your hard upbringing. You had only revealed bits and pieces, more being divulged the longer he knew you... if those stories were even the truth anymore. Though you were beginning to crack, that much was certain. It had been about three weeks since Azriel and Cassian had dragged you into those dungeons. His spies reported the actions they took in order to extract the information from you. Some of it would make even the toughest males cringe. As much as Azriel loathed you for what you had done, the descriptions of your torture and the results of which he had seen decorated on your body was a tough pill for him to swallow. Especially when it stretched on so long with no result. Was all the pain and suffering worth it when it yielded nothing? Whatever information you possessed must be worth such a fate.

A knock on Azriel's door pulled him from his depressing stream of thoughts. He called for his visitor to enter and lifted his head from the paper on his desk, it was not like he was really reading it anyway. Rhys walked through the door and sat on a chair in front of his Spymaster. It seemed funny for his High Lord to be before him rather than the other way around. "What is it, brother?" Azriel questioned. Rhysand had been disappointed when it was revealed that one of Azriel's more trusted spies had turned traitor, or been a traitor all along. Especially when it had gone unnoticed by the Shadowsinger himself, only to be unveiled by said Shadowsinger's second in command. Rhysand had held his tongue then, seeing how blindsided and angered Azriel had been. He wasn't completely sure, but Rhysand suspected it could have had something to do with some feelings developing between his brother and the traitor.

"How has it been coming along? Do we have any idea how much intel has been passed onto Beron?" Rhysand asked carefully. It was a silly question really, Azriel would've come to him straight away with that kind of information. He just wanted to check on his brother.

With a grimace, Azriel answered. "She has been a tough one to crack. Not even a sliver of information that I can make anything of."

"Perhaps it is time for a change of strategy?" Rhysand suggested.

Azriel's eyes met his brother's. He knew what he was suggesting, the power swirling throughout his High Lord's gaze could extract the truth in a matter of moments. But the idea sickened Azriel. Not only because he knew it turned Rhys' stomach to do so, but also because he wanted to avoid that end for you if at all possible. It confused the Illyrian really. On one hand, he wanted to rip you to shreds for betraying his trust. On the other, he wished he could go back in time and relive those peaceful moments of your friendship and his blooming feelings for you. Azriel clenched and unclenched his jaw. "That is our last resort, brother. I wish to try one more thing, if that does not work, then..."

Rhysand dipped his chin. "Of course, Az." He would probe Azriel later for his true thoughts. The shadows twirled around Azriel in a frenzy. They were typically a good indicator of when was a good time to talk to him.

***

You had been lowered to the ground, your ankles remained chained. Lying on the cold damp floor, tears dripped steadily down your cheeks. You did not sob and you tried to stop the flow, but it did not halt. Maybe you were going mad because the tears did not reflect the emptiness you felt eating a hole into your soul. It was horrifying yet comforting. You did not feel like the host of your own body, you felt like an outsider. Your assailants stabbed and whipped, you screamed and groaned. Yet you felt nothing on the inside. You did not beg or plead. You no longer protested when they forced food and water down your neck. You did nothing. There was nothing left in you. The lack of reaction had gained you no mercy. Large, deep gashes scored your arms. So lethal that the healer had advised that you be lowered, or else the wounds would stretch and you would bleed to death. Of course you could not die yet. The news must have made it to the boss because he stood before your cell for the second time since you arrived. You expected your heart to race, for fear to rattle your bones once again. Yet you remained still. Unbothered. They truly had broken you beyond repair. In walked Azriel. Your eyes followed each of his movements. His slithering companions remained by his side, as though they were on a leash.

"What have they done to you?" Azriel's voice was so soft as he hunched down before you. He reached out with an un-gloved hand to take your own. Red-stained bandaging covered two gaps where fingers had been. The gorsian shackles had been doing their job, along with the drops of faebane in your water. The healing was slow... but still healing. Was this what it was like for the humans?

You remained mute, still staring at your former friend. He met your eyes once again, not holding back his troubled face. If Azriel was being honest with himself, your silence was jarring. That look on your face was scary. You were slipping away before him, before the job was done. He replaced his grip on your mangled hand to wipe the tears from your cheek. You did not so much as flinch. Instead, your eyes closed. This was the only soft touch you had received in what felt like forever, and with your end drawing near you would enjoy it. Even if the one that would order your execution was providing you with that warmth. For a moment, you slipped into a reality stars away. A reality in which you were lying beside this male, his hand not wiping tears but caressing gently. A world where you could open your eyes and see Azriel's loving expression. Not this world.

"Let's try this a different way, sweetness." The nickname startled you. It had been a joke between you and him before all this. He had teased you for the amount of sugar in your tea. "Can you sit up for me?" Azriel spoke to you like he had before this nightmare began. You shook your head. It was only now that Azriel realised that your hands were clutching your stomach... no guarding it. He lifted the rag-like shirt that covered your top-half. Another inscription had been cut there. No, burned there. The spymaster's own hands twitched at the sight. For how depraved he was, he had never been depraved enough to enact this specific torture on anyone.

"It means snake," Your voice cracked. Raw from both disuse and screaming, Azriel was sure. "Alyia promised for every day I do not reveal my treachery, she will brand me with names through different means. You would be proud of her," You chuckled. The chuckle soon turned into a mixture of groans and coughs that spattered blood into your hand.

"I am not proud of this." It was the truth. As much as it was necessary at times, Azriel did not delight in torture. Much less yours. "Why are you keeping the information then? Surely you do not wish for this to continue."

Another laugh filled the room, the tears still streaming from you. The laugh turned to a cackle this time, loud and crazed. It lasted a few moments and all Azriel could do was watch. He had seen this many times before. The emotions of a tortured soul were not to be understood. He waited until your giggles died down. When they died, your arm wiped the tears. "You must think me stronger than I really am! I would've confessed long ago if I was a traitor. I've even thought of fabricating a confession so it would mean I would be put out of my misery but you would see through that and you'd keep me alive even longer." Your words struck a cord in Azriel. It was a strange thing for an old friend to wish for death at his hands, particularly when he knew your guilt to be fact. A fantastic actress you were, your performance was weighing greatly on Azriel's moral compass.

"How can you possibly think I will believe that?" He demanded incredulously. "I have seen the facts with my own eyes, through the work of someone I trust more than you."

That meant that Elijah, his second in command had either framed you or been fed false information so strong that it could not be refuted. "I don't think you will believe me," You replied dryly. "You have shown me that. So how about you tell me what you know."

Azriel rolled his eyes. He had trained you very well, your performance had tugged on even his heartstrings. "I know you are feeding intel about this court and my actions to Autumn," He growled and stood. He began to pace back and forth in front of you. "I was wondering why you kept requesting missions to the Autumn Court. I stupidly thought it was because you wished to help me with the unfolding business and please me. Because I believed you cared! That was my mistake. So now all that remains is to find out exactly what you have fed to Beron. So please, sweetness, tell me what you know and I will gladly put you out of your misery!"

Another humourless cackle erupted from you. "Let's be real, Azriel. You won't believe the truth even if it slapped you in the face. You have been tricked, but not by me. The truth will reveal itself one day, old friend. Whether it is in a few days or a few years, it will come out. Just know that when it does and I am dead, I will never forgive you. You have done wrong by me more than anyone else in my life."

With that, Azriel left your dungeon. This was his last attempt at extracting the truth. He had hoped that showing you kindness would give you enough hope that the truth would come out. He was wrong. So as he winnowed home, he mentally called for a meeting with Rhysand. Azriel's heart thumped painfully in his chest at your words. They resonated with him for some reason, the hard look in your eyes would be something he would never forget.

***

Elijah kept your hands bolted to each arm of the chair with two knives. They pierced all the way though your palm and at least a few inches into the wooden armrests. The pain that came with it was among some of the less severe you had become accustomed to. It was downright trivial compared the burning agony of the large screw being slowly twisted into your foot. Out of anyone, his punishments were the most painful. Elijah held a crazed look in his eye, a corner of his lips quirking while he inflicted his torment. It made sense to you now. For him, it was a sick delight. He enjoyed making you scream, making you beg for death. He wasn't trying to extract any information from you, he was merely toying with his spoils.

"You," A series of deep, laboured breaths ensued. "You're sick. I know what you've done."

The Cheshire-grin that slinked across Elijah's face was terrifying. "Oh how clever of you. Unfortunately for you, it is your word against my own. You are a pawn in a game that was created long before you let the Shadowsinger into your home for the first time. However, a happy coincidence it has been, girl. I could've never imagined the enjoyment I could get out of this. A dull affair turned an excess of excitement." You bowed your head. He was right. No one would believe you now, not that Azriel had revealed who had damned you. How convenient it would be for you to reveal Elijah's treachery so soon after your former boss had told you he was involved in your capture. Not to mention that whatever evidence the second in command had procured was enough to convince your boss and colleagues of your unwavering guilt. A terrible hybrid of a groan and scream ripped through your already raw throat as Elijah twisted the screw another full turn into your foot. It wouldn't be long now. Your end was in sight, Azriel's patience would not stretch much further. The only things you had left to fear was the method that would kill you and The Mother's grace to allow you back into her arms.

As if on cue, a group of footsteps echoed down the halls. You had come to recognise Azriel's. The other two you weren't sure of, but you assumed The General was in tow. The final pair were a mystery. Elijah spun on his heel, ready to greet his boss. In an instant, he was down on one knee, bowing so low he looked as though he could kiss the bloodstained ground. "High Lord, it is an honour." Your blood ran ice cold. Your head shot up and beheld the three Illyrians, each one just as petrifying as the other. Though, the High Lord's power blanketed the cell, seeping into every crack and corner. High Lord Rhysand stared right into your fear-filled eyes. There was whispers and rumours as to exactly what this male had done. He could turn your brain to mush and leave you living. He could rip your mind to shreds, give you the most agonising death with little effort. The horrors of his victims had never been far from your ears. The male's stare promised the same fate for you. It had you scrambling to ensure your own mental shields were intact, as though you could resist the might of the most powerful High Lord in history.

Rhysand called you by your full name, full of authority and reflecting the power that lurked behind his eyes. Raising your head, you looked anxiously at Azriel. You did everything to portray your fear and terror into that look. "Eyes on me." Rhysand bit. With a heart beating loud enough that everyone in the room could hear it, you met the eyes of your High Lord.

"My lord, please. This is a mistake," You begged one last time. One last chance at freedom. He would see the truth in your mind, but there would be nothing left of you to save.

"You have one final chance to reveal what you fed to Beron. Otherwise I will rip your mind apart until I find it myself," He promised viciously. You felt a razor-sharp claw make a long, uncomfortable pass over your mental shield.

You flickered your eyes to Elijah, who looked pale. This was it, your chance at justice. Even if you wouldn't be alive to witness it. Then you slid your gaze back to your old friend... your old love interest. Azriel scanned your body, holding on the knives in your hands and the screw in your foot. Cassian watched the exchange, though he had a harder time at hiding his expressions at the various horrors littering your body. "Remember what I told you," You spoke as you held the stare of Azriel. "I know nothing, High Lord. I have not fed any information to Beron or anyone from the Autumn Court."

Rhysand breathed a deep sigh when your eyes met once again. "Very well. May the Mother punish you justly for your sins." The feeling the followed was unlike anything you suffered before. You could not move, you could not scream. He was right there, in your mind. You could feel his essence cleaving your consciousness apart. Through each memory he watched, he destroyed it as he went. It felt like time had been slowed to a fraction of what it had been. The last few weeks of your torture felt inconsequential to these moments passing at a snail's pace. The blood that began to ooze from your nose, eyes and ears trickled slowly and took your mind with it. Everything you had ever been, would be and could've been was dribbling into a puddle in your lap.

You tried to push him out, tried to reinstate the shields and get him out. Give it up, his voice was a ripple of night. It was the voice of the High Lord, but also something more. Something demonic and beastly. It demanded you, and your mind conceded. The end was drawing near, you found yourself trying to remember your life and were met with nothingness. There was nothing left of you, only this pain and suffering. Why was this happening? You could not recall. Just let it end, you willed it. You repeated it like a mantra, begging whatever demon was inhabiting you to just kill you. The blood tickled your face as it now poured from you, but you could do nothing about it. Not as you heard ringing in your ears and your world fade to black.

Azriel watched in horror, having never witnessed this side of his brother's power in person. Dread weighed on him as your mouth hung open in silent horror, blood and drool pooling into your lap. Your fingers had curled and eyes clenched shut. Despite what you had done, Azriel would never wish this fate on his worst enemy. The image before him was something that even the most graphic horror novel could not depict. Azriel watched as the life drained from your body. Your hands relaxed first, then your expression relaxed and lastly, your upper body drooped and slumped over itself.. It was strange, you looked like you were sleeping peacefully despite the carnage you experienced. Rhysand's eyes focused once again and he quickly whipped around. Azriel jumped forward putting his hands on his brother's shoulders. "What's going on?" Cassian shouted.

"Where is he?!" Rhys bellowed, ripping from Azriel's grip.

"Who? Where's who?! Talk to me!" Azriel snapped.

"Elijah!" Both remaining brothers whirled around to where the spy was previously. An empty corner was all the remained.

Azriel's heckles raised, nothing was making sense. Cassian seemed to catch on partially. "Why do you want him?"

Rhysand looked solemnly at Azriel and Cassian. "It wasn't her, Elijah set her up."

Azriel froze, his heart pumped loudly in his ears. This couldn't be happening. A cold sweat broke out across his forehead, his hands shook by his side. Carefully, he looked at where you were slumped in the chair. "No..." He barely whispered. Azriel's words seemed jumpstart Rhys and Cassian into action. Cassian ripped from the room, his feet stomping down the hall in pursuit of the real traitor.

Azriel approached you slowly, hoping there was some of you left to save. To save so he could repent. Tentatively and more gently than anyone had been with you in weeks, the Shadowsinger raised his fingers to your neck and waited. Waited for something, anything. "She's gone brother, I made sure of it," Rhysand stated, shame and regret thick in his tone. The Spymaster collapsed to his knees beside you, his mind replaying all the times you had begged for him to believe you. Replaying all the times his gut had told him there was something amiss. Sobs began to rack through his body, his heart had cleaved in two. In that moment, Azriel felt no better than his step brothers. An innocent female, an innocent and amazing female dead by torment he had ordered.

***

Azriel took charge of arranging your funeral himself. Guilt and shame had plagued him in the days since your death... no your murder. You laid on the pyre outside the home you had made for yourself. The Sidra rushed aggressively, as though it had been angered by your demise. The healers had cleaned your body as best they could, covered you with the finest silk Azriel could buy. But, he could still see the characters engraved on your skin. The holes in your hands where Elijah's knives had been were visible as they laid criss-crossed over your heart. Your cheekbones jut out in a sickly manner from your face. You looked clean, but nothing like the female Azriel had fallen in love with. He knew that now, that he had fallen in love with you. And he had destroyed you. A shell of the female you used to be laid dead on the pyre, all because of him. Azriel wished he could awake from this hell. Awake and see your face full and happy. Instead, he saw the eternal rest before him. Despite the peace on your face, all he could see was the image of your freshly dead body; mouth hung open with blood spilling from it, tears still trickling down your cheeks. With a flaming torch, Azriel set the pyre ablaze. He had attended this on his own, despite the protests of his family. He would attend this alone. Though Azriel was sure that the thought of him being the only attendee at the ceremony of your untimely demise would disgust you.

As your body burned, along with your most prized possessions, Azriel vowed to never forget what he had done to you, his friend and lost love. He would walk every day with the thought of you whispering in the back of his mind. For everyday he would remember what he did to you with the most crushing guilt, it would never account nor excuse the turmoil he put you through. Would never amount of the betrayal and injustice he unleashed unto you. Azriel Shadowsinger would never allow himself a moments peace again. Because you had never gotten yours. You had never even gotten so much of a chance at peace. Azriel knew it was a fitting punishment, he even smiled dryly at your burning body as he recalled your final words to him.

I will never forgive you. You have done wrong by me more than anyone else in my life.

I would appreciate any feedback that you have! Let me know what you think! :)

#acotar azriel #azriel x reader #acotar #azriel angst #azriel x you #a court of thorns and roses #azriel shadowsinger #cassian acotar #rhys acotar #azriel x reader angst #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader

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fakescenariosbeforesleepblog · 8 months ago

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Indelible kiss.

König x Fem reader.

König insists he wants to keep your relationship in secret, what a surprise when someone catches a glimpse of your lipstick on his neck.

Warning: grammatical and spelling errors. Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

It was supposed both were training at the same hours, just a coincidence, no one would dare to think about something else, after all, König is your Colonel, he's so serious and professional all the time and he never showed any kind of affection or favoritism for you. He treats you in the same way he treats the rest of the team.

So, why would someone suspect you and him? No one would imagine what happens in those late hours of the night, the gym is actually empty, no one is exercising at these hours.

In fact, no one was awake, except for you and him.

- Don't leave König, stay here.

Both are in your dorm, the door is closed and locked, you prefer to prevent, he doesn't want to be caught.

König leaves every night, just in case someone goes to his dorm and doesn't find him there.

- You know I can't stay Meine Liebling...

He's laying on the bed while your body rests over his. His bare chest is warm and always smells good, you love his perfume, it is addictive, you're looking at him with pleading eyes.

- Soon or later someone will know about this, please just for tonight my love!

- Nein, mein kleiner Engel (my angel) we can't let them know, not yet.

He caressed your body with his big hands, you love to feel his hands on you.

You would like to let everybody know about what happens between you and König, but he insists he prefers to keep it in secret, he thinks it's better when no one poke up the nose, he always has the feeling that people will try to separate you from him because he's probably not good for you.

On the other hand, you think it's better and more enjoyable if everybody knows about it, they will be happy for both of you, your team is like your family, you think it is unfair to hide your relationship from them but since König refuses you've been thinking about other ways to let them know love is in the air.

You already tried, you accidentally forgot a shirt in his dorm, you also left your underwear mixed in his dirty laundry, you put your perfume in his clothes, you even gave him innocent compliments in front of the team, you stole some of his clothes and wore them around the base. You don't know if some of those ideas have worked because no one has tried to ask you.

So this time you will try something else, everybody knows you always have lipstick on, wine or cherry, those are your colours. You're sure everyone knows it.

One of the things König loves the most about you, is that too, your beautiful lips always with those pretty colours.

- Ahhh... Okay, but before you leave can I show you something?

- Of course you can, go on.

You stood up and walked to your desk, you took the lipstick and went to the bathroom, then you went back to the bed and turned on the lamp of your nightstand.

- Do you like it?

- Schatz, you look beautiful, is it new?

You nodded in silence, the way he stares at your lips causes you something hard to explain in words but the feeling between your legs and the butterflies in your stomach are proof enough of how much you enjoy this moment.

You started to plant kisses over his chest, escalating to his neck and face.

- Schatz, I love when you kiss me like this but I really have to go back.

*a kiss on his lips* - okay, go *another kiss* - sleep well baby *another kiss* - I love you...

He kissed you once more and he got out of your bed and dressed up quickly, then he left.

König always gets up early and runs to the shower, this time he was really tired, he woke up a little bit later than usual, he tried to be quick but then, he had a problem, your lipstick is hard to clean.

He tried hard, his skin was irritated.

- Scheisse (shit)

He muttered while looking at himself in the mirror of his bathroom when a familiar voice calls him out of his dorm.

- König, Man, are you ok? We're late... Can I come in?

Horangi always goes to knock at his door and both go to the common area together.

König ran to put his shirt on and unlocked the door.

- Ja, come in.

Horangi opened the door and closed it, König is pretending to be busy fixing his hair and his belt, until he remembered he doesn't have his hood on.

Horangi already noticed the absence of the hood and handed it to König

- Where's your head today colonel?

- I don't know, I got up at the wrong side of the bed.

Before he could put the hood on Horangi noticed a red spot on his friend's neck, that's not a mosquito or spider bite, it's a kiss, a red kiss, the lipstick colour looks familiar to him but he can't remember where he has seen it before.

- What the...? (He muttered)

- What?

- No, nothing, are you ready?

- Ja, let's go.

Both left the room. You were in the common area talking with Roze and other people who were there, nothing special or interesting, you were thinking about how silly you were, you planted kisses all over and forgot that König is always hiding his face and always wears long sleeve shirts.

König and Horangi appeared a few minutes later, you noticed Horangi was observing you a lot, König was giving some instructions for the day when Horangi went to your side and spoke almost in a whisper.

- I know what you did last night.

- What are you talking about?

- I saw your lipstick on König's neck.

You blushed, you really weren't expecting it could work, you looked at him as if you saw a ghost, you obviously couldn't see his face but Horangi is smiling with mischief, you didn't say a word and neither did him, the day continued normally, it was until the meal time, as soon as you appeared in the dining hall's door, all eyes were on you. You sat at the usual table with Horangi, moments later König arrived too, all eyes on him, you feel guilty you know his anxiety will increase thanks to you and your mulishness. Poor könig, he sat and instantly asked why everyone was observing him.

- What's going on?

- Nothing colonel, I think everyone wonders why you have a very familiar red lipstick on you.

You hit horangi down the table, König didn't say nothing, but you can see his eyes, he's shocked.

- Sorry Man, perhaps I mentioned it to the wrong person, now everyone knows about you and y/n.

König sighed and continued eating a piece of apple under the mask. At night you weren't expecting him, you supposed he would be angry, but then he opened your door.

You were looking for your pajama pants, you felt too guilty, you didn't want to see him angry. Then a pair of hands were placed around your waist, warm kisses were placed on your shoulder then your neck.

- Are you not angry?

- Nein, I can't be upset, it was an intelligent move, you knew someone would notice it.

- I'm sorry König, In my defense I never expected it worked.

He laughed, you love when he does it, for you It's a reminder of how happy he is when you're around.

- It was also my fault, I forgot to put my hood on.

Did he... what? You looked at him, you can't believe what he said.

- How is that possible?

- Meine Liebling, you left me exhausted last night... I admit I like the fact that now everybody knows you're mine.

You're blushing, your face looks like a red apple, he doesn't say anything else and kisses you. This man will be the death of you.

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marsattaxk · 2 months ago

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「Swan Song」 / KATSUKI BAKUGO

── .✦ ENCOUNTER. 1 The only thing I got were wounds

SYNOPSIS: KATSUKI BAKUGO has gotten used to the monotonous routine of his physical and quirk therapy. Going over the same sign-in chart, same exercises to bring back feeling in his arm, and slowly introducing his quirk back. That all changed when one day, during one of his usual session times a teen around his age showed up. Wearing two ankle braces.

MY HERO ACADEMIA ✦ KATSUKI BAKUGO × BALLERINA!GN!READER ✦ ©marsattaxk 2024

NOTE + WARNINGS: Reader will and is a ballerina in the story and will be described as tall no other reference to their appearance, reader has a quirk called Swan Song, due to their quirk reader is very emotionally unstable after their quirk is used (be used in later chapters), reader is also a Shiketsu student, poor description of physical therapy, katsuki is curious and intrigued as hell by reader, poor description of ballet (I haven't done it in YEARS), description of injuries, teenagers being teens so swearing (we'll get to dialogue eventually just let me cook)

WORD COUNT: 4.6k

KATSUKI BAKUGO HAD ALWAYS BEEN ONE FOR ROUTINES. His daily life, ever since middle school consisted of one: waking up early, going for a morning run, having breakfast, going to school, homework, study, more training, dinner, shower, and go to bed at the latest of 9pm. A cut and dry routine that he, himself, had created. He was a creature of habit and never liked change. That of course changed when he entered U.A.

His life, the one he knew, changed when his childhood best friend suddenly and out of nowhere got a quirk. His quirkless childhood best friend had a strong quirk and was improving fast. Way too fast for his liking. The ideal life and routine he had in his head changed to now include his goal of surpassing and still being better than IZUKU. And his immense growth his first year at U.A was proof of that.

His loud, explosive, and angry personality had consistently mild down throughout the year and the events that he and his classmates were and had experienced. Of course it is no secret that a war would change a person fundamentally, especially him considering he had died for a moment of time during it. Thankfully, he was able to be brought back and see the end of it, marking the end to one of Japan’s darkest times and even witnessing his childhood best friend become the greatest hero of all time. Finally allowing for the reform their hero society needed to begin.

However, surviving a war didn’t mean he got out scot-free. Katsuki was left with some gnarly scars and a heart that had to be monitored, reminders of what he went through. But those were the last of his worries when it came to his dream and goals of becoming the best hero of all time. His worries came with his arm. During the war his arm had received a lot of damage, profusely messing it up. He could no longer fully move his hand, and his quirk, which relied on his sweat, was practically unusable in its current state. After waking up in the hospital, getting time to get used to being awake he was told that he had two options.

One: get his arm amputated and get a prosthetic, or two: go the long route and go through physical and quirk therapy.

Katsuki knew one thing at that moment and that was if he wanted to even fully use his quirk and achieve his dream, he’d have to have both his arms. So his choice was pretty clear, he was going to go through the long process of physical and quirk therapy. He not only had the support of his parents but of his friends as well, so the road ahead didn’t seem too rough to him.

With the defeat of Shigaraki and All for One, society was slowly but surely starting to recover which meant that physical therapy clinics were finally and fully opening back up. Plus with most school’s needing to be rebuilt or fixed, summer came early for students all around the country. And so Katsuki’s routine changed once again for the third time. His training had now been replaced with physical and quirk therapy at 5pm every Monday, Wednesday and Friday.

From the moment he got discharged from the hospital, he was immediately required to go to his first session on a Wednesday. And just like that Katsuki had a new routine. Being a month into rehab, Katsuki had gotten used to the monotonous routine of his physical and quirk therapy. Going over the same sign-in chart, same exercises to bring back feeling in his arm, and slowly introducing his quirk back. That all changed one random Wednesday when he showed up.

Katsuki always liked showing up a little bit earlier than his scheduled time, just so that he could get the sign-in chart quickly over with and not have it take up time from his appointment. He, like usual, had been dropped off by his mother at the clinic, her promising she’d be back in an hour, with him responding in a disinterested tone that he knew and understood. He’d then watch her drive away, a byproduct of his senses always on edge, before finally walking into the building. He expected it to be empty as it had always been but to his surprise there was someone there before him.

The person that from what he could see was around his age. They sat there with their head low, the cap on their head covering most of their face except for their lips and chin. The cap wasn’t what caught Katsuki’s attention as he went and sat down in one of the uncomfortable chairs in the waiting area. What caught his attention was the two ankle braces they were wearing on each ankle. The sight genuinely intrigued him, making questions fill his head. Why two braces? How did they injure themselves? Did they hurt one ankle first and then the other? Or did they hurt the two at the same time? Were some of the few that filled his head.

The waiting room was mostly silent, with the only noise being the typing of the receptionist and the low humming noise of the A.C unit. Katsuki had genuinely expected the teen to at least maybe look in his direction and acknowledge him or even attempt to make conversation. But no, all he got was silence on their end. The silence didn’t help his curiosity at all, with him taking peeks at them as they both sat in the waiting area.

Every time he’d expect them to at least have slightly moved, but no, they continued to sit in the same position he had seen them since he had entered. Their elbows resting on the arm rests, their head hanging low, body slightly slouched as if they were ashamed, and their feet firmly planted against the floor. And god, those damn ankle braces didn’t help in want of knowing what happened. But Katsuki was never one to initiate a conversation, and if the teen didn’t want to say anything then he wouldn’t either.

It genuinely felt like an eternity in the waiting room, with the silence so deafening that Katsuki began to contemplate if he should speak up just to get rid of it. But before he could decide whether or not he should, his name got called out making him turn his head in the direction. It was time for him to start the usual routine he mentally created for himself. As he stood up and made his way over to the nurse that had called out to him, Katsuki glanced one final time at the teen, before heading to the back to get started.

Katuski believed that when he’d get out of his session the teen would be gone but to much of his surprise, they were still there. He guessed that their session ended before his since they were at the receptionist desk setting up their next appointment for Wednesday at the same time as he would be right after they left. From where he stood he could catch a glimpse of their face, seeing their clearly tired eyes, and the frown on their face. He could tell that they didn’t want to be there, and that just added more fuel to the fire, wondering what happened to them for them to land here, just like him.

Their frown wasn’t just the only thing that intrigued Katsuki, but their height as well. Katsuki was tall, clearly. He stood, proudly, at five’ eight and used his height as an advantage over villains. But from what he could see this teen a few feet away from him was taller than him, only by a few inches. They towered over the receptionist, with her having to crane her neck to look up. Normally something about that would infuriate him but with them it was different. Their height added to the curiosity that he held for them and maybe even some attraction, but Katsuki would never admit that.

He watched them only nod in response to the woman's words, giving her one last nod before walking and out of the clinic, clearly they wanted to get the hell out. And honestly Katsuki didn’t blame them for it, he also just wanted to be done with his therapy sessions and go back to his regular life, going back to doing hero work. Standing there he listens to the receptionist talk about his next appointment and the upcoming ones he had next, watching as their silhouette walked away from the building and got into a car.

✦

[Y/N] HAD ALWAYS HAD ONE DREAM SINCE THEY WERE A CHILD. From the moment they had seen them gracefully glide across their screen, twirling, dipping, and jumping, they knew that was what they wanted to do. Seeing a Prima Ballerina perform Tchaikovsky Swan Lake, they knew they wanted to be the white swan. They knew they needed to be a ballerina.

They still remembered going up to their mother and telling her how they wanted to do ballet, how it didn’t matter to them if they got a quirk or not, they just wanted to perform Swan Lake. They remember the begging they did, trying to convince their pro-hero parents to allow them to do ballet, begging to break the family tradition of being heroes. They knew how important it was for their parents for them to follow in the tradition, it was the legacy their great grand-parents had started. But, even as a small child they knew that wasn’t what they wanted and what they did they saw dancing on their screen.

Their mother was more skeptical, not seeing the appeal of it, that maybe there was another activity that they could do related to hero work. Their father was the one who fully listened to them. Maybe it was because this was his only child wanting to do something they wanted, or maybe it was because that spark they had for the dance was the same spark he had when seeing his father be a hero. He made them make him a promise. He made them promise that if they ever stopped or showed disinterest in the dance style, they would start hero training.

And ever since that day, they have never broken their promise. Everyday from that day forward they spent their life going to dance classes, practices, going to rehearsals, performances, doing pointe shoe fittings and getting lead roles in productions. Even when their quirk came in, aptly named ‘Swan Song’ they continued to dance no matter what. Their entire elementary and middle school years were spent perfecting their craft, hoping and dreaming that in a couple years their dreams of becoming a Prima Ballerina would become true. And it was during the 8th grade, that it finally happened.

That lifelong dream came in the form of a letter from the official National Ballet of Japan, with them offering them the position of their brand new prima ballerina. To say that [Y/N] was excited would be an understatement. They were ecstatic over the fact that they would be finally able to fulfill their childhood and lifelong dream. Of course their dream opportunity came with an exception, that being that they would have to move to Japan and attend one of the country's prestigious high schools.

[Y/N] was used to going overseas and going to performances all over the country, but moving to a completely different country by themselves? Without their parent’s? Now that was a whole new experience. The thought of being thousands of miles away from their parent’s, their family was daunting, scary. This was their dream, their once in a lifetime opportunity, but doing it without their parent’s? That was something they weren’t prepared for. Talking and telling their parents about this life changing opportunity was one of the hardest things they had to do.

They remember their mom telling them another opportunity like that could at some point present itself again, that they didn’t have to commit to this in a completely different country, that they should stick with their current dance company. Their dad on their other hand had only one question for them. ‘Have you fallen out of love with the dance?’ The moment that question left his mouth, [Y/N] knew what they had to do. And that was mailing their acceptance of the offer back to The National Ballet of Japan and looking into what school they would go to.

After hours of research, enrolling, transferring their grades and transcript, packing, mailing their stuff over to their new school dorm rooms, heading over to Japan, [Y/N] was finally able to step foot into their room in Shiketsu’s dorms. With their overseas move, The National Ballet of Japan welcomed their new and first foreign Prima Ballerina. But, as things would have it, their first year at Shiketsu and as Prima Ballerina did not go as planned. Every student in Japan's lives were put on hold right after the Paranormal Liberation War and with the fight to stop Shigaraki. While [Y/N] had good control over their quirk, they didn’t play a role in fighting in the war, they mostly helped in the sheltering of civilians.

With the war over and life slowly but surely beginning to go to a sense of normalcy, [Y/N] was finally able to go back to what they loved doing the most, ballet. As much as [Y/N] had become accustomed to the constant Piles, Pirouettes, first, second, and third positions, it was hard for them to get back into the rhythm of things. Their dance instructor never blamed them for making simple mistakes, or slightly tripping when making moves, he knew that with the war and the lack of practice their body wasn’t used to going back to the constant practice and rehearsals.

Even if their ballet instructor wasn’t frustrated with them, [Y/N] was frustrated with themselves. This was their craft, their lifelong career and dream, the fact they couldn’t land a simple saut de chat was infuriating to them. How was it that in a couple months they were able to just forget everything they had been doing since they were four years old? When did they regress in their abilities?

Everyday at practice and rehearsals for their company’s production of Notre-Dame de Paris, they kept pushing themselves to get back to where they were originally. It was a constant push and push and push to dance at the level they had been used to, pushing their muscles, feet, legs, and arms to keep up to remember what they knew. Of course dancing with frustration and having tightness in their muscles was never a good sign, because during one rehearsal practice they took a tumble and ended up landing weirdly on both of their ankles after a jump.

Their instructor told them the same thing he had been telling them the past month, ‘take it easy. You are getting back into the rhythm of things. Take care of your ankles’. The same speech and lecture they had been hearing since the start of the new season. Did they listen? No, [Y/N] was a teenager who thought they could improve by sheer force and will. And that unfortunately backfired on them greatly. On opening night of the first performance on Notre-Dame de Paris, and their first performance back on the stage, in front of their parents, during their Esmeralda variation that [Y/N] took a fall after the finishing jump, absolutely decimating their ankles.

The ride to the hospital felt like an eternity to [Y/N], their hearing muffled as the only thing they could look at was their ankles. Bruised beyond belief, showing the damage their fall had done to them, the harm that their frustration and push to dance had caused them. They couldn’t hear the words of their mother or of the paramedics as they talked to them or around them. The only thing they could hear was the screaming thoughts in their head telling them their career was over.

The arrival to the hospital was a blur. The morphine that the nurses had injected into them made them tired, before everything went black after having anesthesia for their urgent surgery. Due to their untreated ankle twist and the fact that they had been applying pressure on both of them, [Y/N]’s ankles were messed up beyond a point. Their ligaments and tendons had been worn down, making them require surgery to fix them. Thankfully everything went well, but that meant that [Y/N] would have to undergo physical therapy to even get their ankles back to their full health and back to what they were if they wanted to go back to dancing.

The lecture they had gotten from their parents was justified. It was reckless of them to not take care of themselves, to allow themselves to become so frustrated they were willing to hurt themselves just to improve. But of course, they could understand the frustration. They were hero’s after all, their careers hanged on the thread of them getting better quickly. In their hospital room, [Y/N] and their parents discussed what would happen now, fully talking about itf they’d go back to dancing or if they’d finally stop. But they weren’t gonna stop, this was their dream. Plus they had a promise to uphold.

So they made their first appointment at the Musutafu Physical and Quirk Therapy Clinic. And all they hoped for was that they got better quickly so that they could go back to dancing.

They arrived an hour early, due to living on the complete other side of the city, since Shiketsu was on the west side they had a long commute to even consider arriving on time. The train ride over was as peaceful as you could call a subway cart. As well as the cab over. When they arrived it was empty, allowing for the receptionist to take the time to explain the charts, documents, and sign-in sheet they had to fill out, that taking up most of their time before their appointment.

Sitting there in one of the chairs of the waiting room was embarrassing to [Y/N]. Not because they had physical therapy but because of how they could have prevented this if they had just listened. If they had taken the time to rest their weirdly twisted ankles they would have been able to do the full Notre-Dame of Paris show and wouldn't have had to have surgery on their ankles. And so they sat there, with their head hanging low with their cap on their head, their braces on full display, they waited for their appointment time to arrive.

At some point from what they could tell someone new had arrived. They genuinely had no interest in who this person was or even if they were there to have a session like they would, all they wanted was to get it over with and get out as quickly as possible. However, maybe it was their imagination or maybe it really was happening, but as they sat there, looking down at their shoes, they could feel as if someone was glancing at them. Very continuous glances. They had no idea if it was the person who had just entered or if they were making it up. And so they ignored it, continuing to look down at their shoes.

The feeling stopped when the person who had, in fact, arrived went to what they assumed was one of the rooms to have their own session, and soon enough it was their turn as well when their name got called out. [Y/N] had no idea what to expect for their first therapy session and thankfully it was something simple to start. Just some ankle pointing, circling, and some resistance band pulls, some simple exercises to get them used to the motion of using their ankles once again.

Their session ended early, they chalked it up to needing to start off simple so that they wouldn’t hurt themselves again. Going back to the waiting area, they stood at the reception desk, listening to the nurse at the desk explain how their session would go on from then on, and of course setting up their next appointment Wednesday at the same time. This time, however, they were able to get a glance at the person who had entered the clinic. It was a boy, clearly around their age, with blonde hair and scars. Something about him looked familiar to them, but they could figure out why.

And so they just chalked it up to probably seeing someone similar to him somewhere and left the clinic to get to the cab waiting for them outside. Having no idea how just their presence at the therapy clinic had impacted the blonde teen.

✦

TO SAY THAT KATSUKI WAS INTRIGUED WAS NOT FAR FROM THE TRUTH. Getting into his mom’s car as he answered the usual questions she asked him after his sessions all he could think about was the teen who had been there as well. Never in his life had he cared so much about someone else, excluding Izuku and All Might, that this was jarring to him. And the fact that he told his own mother about it was even more jarring. He never told the old hag anything like this before.

To say that his mom wasn’t curious about this person who had captured her son’s attention was a blatant lie. She was intrigued and needed to know who had captured her son’s attention immediately. Katsuki being Katsuki he refused to tell his mom anything. The hag, in his opinion, didn’t need to know anything and telling her was clearly a mistake considering she couldn’t let it go the entire car ride. And couldn’t let it go the next two weeks after she picked him up from his therapy sessions.

During the course of those two weeks and the sessions Katsuki had, his curiosity for this teen had severely increased as weeks went by. He wanted, no, he needed to know about them. He needed to know why they were even in physical therapy. To say this was just morbid curiosity would be a bold face lie. This kid had an obsession with a person he had no single piece of knowledge about. This was a complete stranger, for christ sake. How was it possible that a random teen was able to capture his intrigue more than any other person he had ever met could.

Going to his therapy sessions had been something he had started to look forward to, honestly. And that was information no one would be able to get out of him, no matter what. His annoying friends didn’t need to know, his parents didn’t need to question him about this person, and Izuku and All Might clearly didn’t need any form of indication that he was obsessing over a total stranger. And genuinely, he knew just telling them about his ‘obsession’ would either make them make them try and help him or raise concern in their heads. And it was probably the latter.

Every time he’d show up and he’d see them his mind would go wild. It’d go racing with thoughts and guesses on who they were, what they did to land in physical therapy, what their quirk was, were they a hero in training just like him, did they go to U.A just like him. And apparently the receptionist at the front desk had picked up on it as well, much to his chagrin.

It was like how he had found them the first time he had seen them when his session had ended. They were at the reception desk, clearly setting up their next appointment, when the receptionist did something. And by that something, he meant, making up a made up policy that required her to look at patient’s faces to make sure it matched their ID. Telling them they had to take off their cap to be able to look. Katsuki knew that was a lie. From the moment he had started there had never been a rule or policy that enforced that at all, but he knew the receptionist was doing this for him by the way she glanced at him.

Their response of a nonchalant, almost disinterested ‘yeah, sure’ were the first words Katsuki had heard them say in the two weeks he had seen them. He watched as they removed their cap, finally getting a good glimpse at them. Something about seeing their face that made an unknown feeling bloom in Katsuki’s chest. This unknown warmth that he had never felt before. It wasn’t the usual warmth he felt from his quirk, it was different and he couldn’t explain why it was. And so once again, he watched them walk out.

Standing up at desk, Katsuki listened to the receptionist tell him that since they couldn’t give out any information on them, the most she could do was tell him to look up a website. That website being The National Ballet of Japan’s page. Telling him he'd get the information and answers he had been looking for by searching through it and the dancers in had under its company.

To say that Katuski went home and didn’t look up what the receptionist had told him would be a lie. In the comfort of his room, he went onto his laptop and looked up the National Ballet of Japan. He scoured the page looking through performances, articles, awards, seasonal tickets, class registration forms, information about the company before stumbling up on the dancers. He scrolled through hundreds of dancers, all of them stemming from the past and the present until he reached a face he clearly recognized. And a face that made that warmth he had felt back at the clinic, spread through his chest once again.

✦

THIS WOULD MARK THE FOURTH WEEK OF [Y/N] PHYSICAL THERAPY SESSIONS. Apparently their plea of wanting these sessions to go by quickly had been heard. Every day for the past week had become the same for them, going to therapy, doing the exercises, and going home to do them once again, all in hopes to better than ankles quicker. This appointment would mark if they would be able to start going back to practice once again. A light practice, as their instructor had told them, a small step into the swimming pool before even attempting to go back on pointe shoes.

They had thought this session would be normal. Showing up an hour early, doing the sign-in chart and just sitting in silence as they wait for the teen boy to show up and for their appointment to start. But something in their head told them today would be different. And clearly it was. The blonde boy was there before them. Which was odd. What was even more odd was where he was sitting this time.

Usually when they sat in the waiting area, there was a space in between them, the two always leaving an empty chair. However this time, the boy was sitting in that chair. They didn’t want to seem rude and just move one seat over, then again they really didn’t care where he sat, so they just sat down, and didn’t say a word. The waiting area was quiet like it had always been but, once again, today was going to be different.

“Hey,” a gruff, almost raspy voice called out to them, making them turn their head in the direction it came from. And for the first time since the two of them started attending physical therapy at the same time, [Y/N] AND KATSUKI MADE EYE CONTACT WITH ONE ANOTHER.

AUTHORS NOTE: hello hi! welcome to my first ever ‘x reader’ fanfic that I have fully committed to and actually have written. This is the first ever fic that I have posted to tumblr, more like the first ever piece of content I have ever posted to tumblr and I’m both nervous and cautiously excited about this. this isn’t my first rodeo posting fic's on the internet (we don’t talk about wattpad) but it is the first one I’m actually proud of since I’m no longer writing like how middle school me did back then. all I ask is that y’all don’t burn me at the stake for however long it takes me to put out chapters. I am a college student so my grades come first than this silly little fic. I hope that y’all enjoy this piece of fiction that I’ve written and I’ll be back whenever chapter two is ready. buh-bye!

P.S: it was while editing and talking to friends that I decided to make this a ‘universe’/ connected story series. whenever this series is over and fully completed (re-edited at some point because i’m never happy with end products) i’ll announce the next one. so stay tuned for that.

TAGLIST: @oddball08

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the-doomed-witch · 1 year ago

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BAD IDEA, RIGHT?

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Yeah, she’s your ex. But can’t two people reconnect? // based on bad idea, right? by Olivia Rodrigo

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY; MINORS + MEN DNI. exes with benefits?, very little to no plot, dom!reader sub!nat, oral (r giving), fingering (r giving), use of names (whore, angel), ig that’s all lmao

Author’s Note: well i wasn’t going to write this but i did it in like 30 minutes with no proof reading so if this is horrible kindly pardon 🙏

(gif credits to creator)

MASTERLIST // NAVIGATION // READ ON AO3 // REQUESTS CLOSED

— ✦ —

You stare blankly at the notification as soon as your phone lights up. Why are you smiling at it? You don’t even want Wanda to know about the reason. “Uh, Wanda, could you excuse me for a minute? I need to get this one.” You feel rude interrupting her, but maybe it’ll put you in the best place.

Leaving your friend perplexed at the table, you get up and walk to a corner of the café. Soon as privacy is ensured, you dial her number, “What’s up?”

“Fuck. Your voice, Y/N.”

“God, Natasha. Why are you like this?”

“Are we still meeting tonight?”

“You think I’ll not turn up? After the night on Tuesday, seriously?”

“That was so hot, I’ll have to admit.”

“Shut up. I’ll see you later, bye.” You hang up the call and immediately scurry back towards Wanda, face adorned by a radiance of excitement.

“Now, what’s that smile about?” She rests her chin on her right palm, “Something I should be knowing about? Or rather, someone?”

“Oh it’s nothing. I just, um, got some shit sorted out.”

“I think you’re hiding this person from me. Tell me about them.” She gives you a typical wink to accompany her curiosity. You couldn’t dare tell her about Natasha, Wanda would most certainly throw you into the lake without a second thought.

It felt bad, it really did, but Natasha was just so good. Who was to know about it anyway? There were no feelings left anymore, both of you knew that this arrangement was only meant for casual sex.

Your break up wasn’t amicable, and Wanda had to give whatnot to try to at least avoid violence of any kind. It was more tedious for her than the job usually would have been, because she decided not to exercise her powers. Of course, brainwashing and manipulating two people into breaking up nicely was obviously the easiest option, but not the most righteous one.

“Y/N I swear if it’s-”

“Stop! We just want to keep it a secret. Jeez, let me have some privacy!” you blurt out, face flustered at the thought of being caught. You lowkey regret it, knowing well that your words hurt Wanda.

“Fine. Do whatever the hell you want.”

— ✦ —

You ring the doorbell, waiting outside Natasha’s apartment. She doesn’t take more than a second to swing the door open and pull you inside. As soon as you’re inside, she pins your back against the door.

“You’re right on time, baby.” She says before clashing her lips against yours in the dense heat between you two. Suddenly, your entire body is on fire, and her hands are trying to tame it.

You’re quick to throw her t-shirt off to the floor, making yourself room to bite on her skin without a care.

Neither Nat, nor do you realise when the two of you are naked. Maybe it happened on the way to the bedroom, maybe inside it - you couldn’t care less. All your mind can think of is fucking the woman to soreness.

“Gonna be a whore for me tonight again, aren’t you?” You slowly trace your fingers down to her pelvic arch, practically combusting her insides.

“Yes. Yes I am. Fuck-”

“Mind your language. Or you know what punishment you get for that.”

She groans, writhing beneath you. Her body was worth worshipping, you could never admire Nat enough. The scars across her abs were even sexier. You start by gently tugging on her nipples, in awe of her perfect arch - the way her chest rose and fell, the sound of her hissing at your pinching.

“Y/N, please. Please, please, please.”

“Please, what? Use your words angel.”

Her thighs get into a tightening clasp against each other. There is no way she can hold herself back for another minute. “Please Y/N, touch me. Fuck, ruin me. I need you.”

“You are irresistible.”

Satisfied with her pleas, you decide to go down on her. Each of your hands spread her thighs apart, giving yourself complete access to taste her. Your tongue moves along her folds, often teasing her lightly.

Nat’s hands entwine themselves in your hair, pulling you as deep inside her as she could. A tiny breathy whisper against her cunt jerks her entire body, “So wet, so perfectly wet, baby.”

She moans your name over and over till it echoes inside your head. “Oh my God Y/N. There, ah- right there-” Her grip on your head intensifies. The pain is of no significance to you when you can wholly gorge yourself on her pussy.

It doesn’t take her long to get close to her climax. “Ca- can I come?” she asks you between heavy breaths and difficulty. You immediately pull yourself back, ceasing all your tongue movements. Her undeniably agonised scream makes you smirk. “You think you could get off so easily, angel?”

“B- but I-”

“B- but I-” you mockingly repeat her thwarted stammering. You softly push a tress of her fierce red hair from her neck and bend down to nibble on it. Her chest heaves against your own torso, so you place a hand on her to calm her down. Her heartbeat is almost in your hands, as you feel it against your palm.

Nat’s hips slowly buckle and she begins to rub her intimacy against your thigh between her legs to relieve the burning sensation inside of her.

“You’re so pretty when you’re needy. I love it.” You plant another kiss below her ear before stopping her hips in place. Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, you penetrate her hole with your fingers. “Fuck. I love it when you’re so tight for me.”

Your fingers pump in and out of her quickly, as you feel her clench and get closer to an orgasm again.

You don’t let Natasha get a chance to ask for permission, her words are drunk down by you in another kiss.

A little more stimulation on her clitoris does it. She gushes white onto your palm, rolling her eyes with pleasure. You let her have some time to bring herself back to reality.

Her sweat is still fresh and her breath is still heavy when she says, “Tell me more of it Y/N.”

“More of what, angel?”

“What else that I do that you love.”

You meet her eyes for the first time in the past few hours. They’re greener, more vibrant than you’d last truly seen them. “I love it when you come, I love it when you lose your breath because of it. I love it when you beg for me. I love it when you repeat my name again and again and again. I love it when-”

“Fucking goodness.” she says before pulling you down for another kiss. A sigh is elicited from her when she tastes herself on your tongue, as your hand reaches down to grab her ass tightly.

“Let me return the favour, would you now?”

“You don’t really have to…”

She doesn’t listen.

— ✦ —

“Y/N, you fucking never listen!” Wanda screams at you when you reach back to your apartment the next morning. You give her a confused and perplexed expression, unsure of what she meant.

“Don’t give me that look, I know you slept with someone and it’s Natasha!”

“Dude, it’s like 8 in the morning, and I literally never even said whose bed I was in. Could you calm down?”

“It was her, wasn’t it?”

“What if I tell you it’s not her? Would you leave me the fuck alone? I want to sleep right now.”

Wanda gives up and sighs. It was never in her power to make you understand anyways. Was it really difficult for her to comprehend that two people can just reconnect?

Your phone lights up with another text message.

Are we seeing each other tonight?

You reply: Sounds like a bad idea, I’m in. You should probably not. But whatever, fuck it, it’s fine.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff smut #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x you #black widow x y/n #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha x y/n #natasha smut

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bisexualiteaa · 1 month ago

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No Life Queen

Alucard X Fem Reader

SMUT! MDNI

CW: vampires, established relationship, secrecy, reader is a vampire, reader has hair, brief mentions of canon typical violence/gore, cursing, pet names, praise, biting, brief mention of alcohol, bl00d drinking, mentions of bl00d, p in v, unprotected seggs, cream 🥧, mention of 0ral (fem receiving), reader works for Hellsing Organization, slight ooc Alucard, smut with fluffy ending, p0rn w/o plot, p0rn with feelings, possible grammar or spelling errors, HEAVILY proof read

A/N: I know this will likely be for a niche audience, but in my opinion there isn’t enough about this lovely man on this app I don’t think. In the spirit of Halloween (and for being down bad for him for an entire decade) I felt it was appropriate! I hope you all enjoy. Happy spooky season to you all! ♥️

The sounds of your joyous laughter and sweet voice could be heard from the dimly lit lair, resonating from deep within the winding depths of the vast Hellsing estate as you laid next to your vampiric lover. Your body lay bare, save for the silk red sheets wrapped around you to afford you a semblance of decency and warmth from the bitterly cold air. He had no need for a bed, he spent so long sleeping in the dank, dark depths of the basement which he calls home, or within the confines of his well built, ornate coffin but it was a luxury you loved, so without hesitation he had one placed there for you. All under the guise of him simply “being curious” as to how modern beds feel. He knew well how they felt, he’d taken on his fair share of lovers in the past, and those nights where he would sneak into your room to be with you during the fleeting beginning stages of your budding romance. So he wasn’t ignorant to how they felt, but he felt it was a good enough excuse to give should anyone dare ask why. Your hair sat pooled against the well-decorated pillowcases for the pillows he only kept around for you, freed from its usual ties whilst on duty. You hummed lightly and happily as your hand rested against his broad chest, looking up at him with all the love in the world as a smile danced across your sweet, kiss swollen lips. You regarded Alucard with your whole heart, and never anything less. You knew well that your lover was a man that possessed unfathomable amounts of power, and harnessed the capabilities to slaughter those whom he wished in the mere blink of an eye. Yet with you, he was anything but those terrible things that others knew him for. With you, the vampire king was no longer the monster others claimed him to be. With you, he was no longer a creature to be feared, no longer a servant to exercise his master’s bidding. With you, it was the closest he’s ever felt to being human again in centuries because in your presence, he was nothing more than a man who was so emphatically in love with the woman that was lying before him. And in your eyes, you could never see him as anything less than perfection, for he’s never afforded you anything less.

He delighted in the sensation of your soft, gentle touch that only you could offer him in such a pleasurable way. Longing to feel your much smaller hands pressed against his cold, pale, and unblemished skin. Yearning for the way your fingers stroked through his long, raven black locks with such affection that left him like putty in your very hands. He enjoyed how your hand, despite its now cold nature compared to the warmth you once held when you were human, would cup his cheek with such gentle serenity. How you would handle him as if he were made of porcelain, as if he was the one that was easy to shatter. No one had ever held him in such a gentle way before, touched his skin with such feather-light placidity, knowing only what it’s like to have held others in such a fashion but never had the sentiment been returned to him in kind until he’d met you. He was downright addicted to the tender caress of your thumb stroking his jaw, as if tracing his edges like he was chiseled from the finest but most fragile stone. You looked upon him like a work of art, as if he were crafted skillfully by the hands of a master artisan then given the gift of life. He was breathtaking, and to think that you were the one lucky enough to have enthralled him, to have captured his heart, was truly remarkable. He would argue however that he was the one truly fortunate enough to have earned your respect, to have earned your love and praise. He needed it from no one else aside from you, anyone else’s thoughts or opinions be damned. His servitude may be to Integra, but his true fealty was to you.

Your crimson eyes stared into his vermillion ones as if he were the man who hung the very stars that freckled the night sky. He cherished you, adored you, worshipped you even. You with your undying love and most pure of affections. You were unreal to him, ethereal almost. Like a goddess who descended the heavens and was somehow captivated by such a pitiful creature such as himself. Granting him such unwavering kindness, such unrelenting generosity that he felt as if he did not deserve. He could hardly believe at times that someone as kind, someone as gentle as you existed in a world that had always proven so cruel, let alone that you could ever fall in love with a fiend like him. Someone who held so much bitterness towards the world, someone with such an affinity for danger, violence and gore. You were polar opposites, yet strikingly similar all the same. He would never take it for granted however, because even on his worst days, you were always there. You were always the comforting light at the end of a long, dark tunnel. The grounding anchor to his ship that sailed an unrelentingly raging sea. You were his peace, his serenity, sitting with your arms outstretched for him to rest between, and ever ready to listen and share in his burdens whatever they may be.

No one knew of the romance you and the vampire king shared, not even Sir Integra herself knew about it. It was a well guarded secret that lay only within the confines of his room, and the rare but fleeting moments you were granted when you were alone and away from any prying eyes or ears. Your meetings always started out the same, and even remained the same to this day. A routine of you sneaking off from your room and into the halls at night, under the guise of delivering to him his meal. No one ever suspected it to be a rouse. Much less an act to allow you to get closer to your lover, using the sanguine nectar as a means to spend time with him where you would have the utmost privacy. In fact, the guards who were normally placed on that duty thanked you for taking their place, unable to bring themselves to make the cold, unsettling trek down to the depths where he resided. Therefore you had no one to send you questioning glances, or overhear any suspicious whispers. To them, you were a vampire who simply wasn’t afraid of him or his capabilities. No one else dared get close to his chambers however, some even going as far to tell tales of those who never made it back alive from the treacherous journey, or of his ravenous hunger to scare anyone who may be new to the estate and don’t quite know of him yet. Many complained that they felt as if there were eyes in the very walls surrounding them, watching as they made their descent into the darkness that was his place of rest, or even just through out the day during their shifts and as they would wander around through the vast hallways. He struck fear into the hearts of many, especially into those of mortal kind, but to you, he was just Alucard.

“You are a most delicious sight like this, Draga mea” he praised as the sheet you lay beneath began to slide down just a tad, revealing some of your bare frame to the frigid air of his den. His eyes raked across your body each time as if it was the first time he was seeing you, making you hum appreciatively at the compliment and the term of endearment spoken in his native tongue. You felt as his large hand began to glide along the curvature of your hip and the dip of your waist with a feather light touch, sending goose flesh to raise along your skin. “If you wish to feed from me, you know you need only ask” you teased with a grin, knowing his compliment came from a genuine place, but your romance was built on humor and trust. He knew better than to think you’d only regard his words in a manipulative manner. “Well if my queen is offering herself to me, how could I say no to such kindness?” He quipped in return, making you chuckle as he placed strategic, searing kisses along the column of your neck, being sure to strum each sensitive spot before kissing down your shoulder and trailing down your arm. You giggled softly as he made his descent, grabbing your hand in his much larger one before turning it over and placing a soft kiss to your wrist just above your pulse point. “Is a whole bottle no longer enough to sate you, my dear? I can have them procure more for you, you need only say the word” You asked, half teasing, half genuine. Your tone filled with concern and playfulness in a harmony that only could ever come so blissfully from you. A melodic language only spoken between the two of you and the two of you alone. “Shall I frighten them with the tales of your insatiable appetite? Perhaps that would persuade them to donate more” you volunteered, making him give a hearty laugh in reply. “How I cherish the thought of you frightening them with such a tale” he responded, making you giggle as you pictured the horrified facial expressions and terrified trembles you would receive in reply. “But in truth, bottle proves nowhere near as appetizing to me when compared to the taste of you at the height of euphoria. The adrenaline coursing through you, the sweetness of its taste is better than any wine could ever offer. Even the most decadent ambrosia pales in comparison to you, Draga mea” He continued, sweet talking you in that deep, baritone voice that always left your heart racing and a fire dwelling within the depths of your core. He always knew just the right words to say, both a blessing and a curse in its own right. His response earned a hum of amusement from you. “I was too caught up in the fire that was in your gaze to have gotten a taste of you. I was afraid should my attention falter, the beast within you would relinquish” he added, his lips finding their way to the column of your neck, his nose brushing against the sensitive spots there to rise gooseflesh to your skin, his lips just barely ghosting where your pulse would typically reside. You tilted your head to the side to allow him better access, allowing him free rein of your throat to do as he pleased. “Suffice to say, our shared feast left me quite…distracted” he finished, laying more searing kisses to your neck, making you hum and moan softly in approval, telling you all of his reasons why you should allow him to feed from you. His eagerness made you giggle as you recalled the way you were seated on his lap just moments ago, warming his cock and soon riding him as you both shared in feeding one another glasses of the sanguine liquid that once filled the now empty bottle. Your hands found their way to the back of his head and neck, keeping him in place as a show to continue his ministrations as your eyes fluttered shut with bliss. “Perhaps I should speak of your insatiable hunger” you teased, making him groan and chuckle into the crook of your neck as he kept himself pressed tightly against you.

“Have you another problem needing resolved already, my dear? We’ve hardly had enough time to enjoy the afterglow yet” you teased, making him grin as he detached himself from you to defend himself. “I hadn’t heard you complaining whilst you were seated on my tongue, or how quickly things carried on from there after I brought you to such dizzying climax twice from it” he bit back playfully, his fangs peaking from his wide, cocky grin. “And why ever would I? There certainly isn’t anything to complain about” you replied, flashing your fangs in a grin that mirrored his own making him hum in reply, satisfied with your response but amused all the same. How cute those fangs looked nestled into your already gorgeous smile. Something so perfectly wicked entwined with someone so preciously sweet. How it brought him such joy that you now carried a piece of him with you wherever you went, and would for the rest of eternity. Knowing that anyone who dare step to you with harmful intentions, would see a bit of him in you. That they would see his power radiate from you, feel his threatening aura travel along side you like an omniscient deity. He couldn’t help the pride that swelled within him to know that he was not only your lover, but your protector. How it pained him to know that you would have to share in his agony of having to watch those around you that you cared about parish while you remain the same, that you would outlive those who held no super natural persuasion to stop the onward marching of time. Yet a slightly twisted, much darker side that resided deep within him, felt almost prideful in the way that his dark corruption snuck within you, tainting the otherwise pristine purity you usually carried. Like a white dress being stained red from the scarlet shades of blood pooling beneath its fabric, one could argue you were tainted, besmirched, ruined even. He would argue that you were even more beautiful than you were before. His perfect little love.

His no life queen

“You may indulge in me, but only if you ask nicely” you replied playfully, making him grin at your response but he would always heed your word for he never wished to displease you. He was a gentleman after all, where were his manners? “Would you kindly allow me to have my fill of you, dearest?” He asked, making you hum as if you had to actually give it any thought. You never did. The answer would *forever* be yes. “You may” you responded kindly, a giggle leaving you as you leaned closer to him, your noses brushing together before turning your head to allow your lips to intertwine once more. Your hand came to cup his cheek tenderly, in that oh-so-loving manner you always did. He could truly never get enough of you. Your lips danced upon each others with sensual warmth, tongues tangling together, fangs nicking lips with playful bites. Before long, his mouth descended upon your throat once again, his nose ghosting the sensitive skin and catching whiff of your intoxicating aroma before his tongue glided along his favorite spot. You tilted your head back to allow him more access, your eyes falling shut blissfully as you felt his tongue circle the junction between your neck and shoulder. The sheet by now had slipped from you fully, revealing your bare chest to the gelid temperature of his chambers, feeling your pebbled nipples pressed against his bare chest as your hands weaved into his hair. You waited for that moment with bated breath, for the icy prick of his fangs to pierce your skin, but instead were greeted by the distraction of his fingers diving down to your aching cunt. The pad of his finger worked slow, rhythmic circles against your clit, making your eyes roll to the back of your head as a sweet sigh left your lips. “Alucard…” you moaned, making him groan deeply in response, the sound almost feral as it rumbled within his chest. He found himself salivating at the prospect of your flavor, at the overwhelming scent of your arousal mixed with his distinct musk. His hunger was hitting a fever pitch, finding it harder as the moments passed to contain himself and play with you to the full extent he wished to. You are his most delectable treat after all.

He groaned as your nimble fingers tangled within his long black hair, moaning and squirming from the pleasure being brought to you by just one of his fingers alone. It was pathetic almost, the way you were rendered to such madness, such utter hedonism with so little being offered to you, but it was nearly overwhelming all the same. “My precious queen, how deliciously sensitive you are for me” he remarked, a deep chuckle and a grin following his words as you gasped from the feeling of his fingers dipping inside of you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head once more, mouth agape in a silent wail as the tips of his fingers located your most vulnerable spots with practiced precision. “Alucard…” you sighed blissfully as he leaned down to capture your lips in a sweet, intimate kiss. You moaned into it, your fingers dragging along the sinew of his back leaving behind angry, red marks that you knew would only remain for a very short period of time. He groaned into your shared kiss, working his fingers into you with practiced expertise, being sure to tease that bundle of nerves deep inside of you with the pads of his long, nimble fingers. As his fingers would curl against your walls, his thumb was rubbing tight, methodical circles along your clit to bring you even closer to your release. “Fuck…” you moaned into the kiss, feeling that knot in the pit of your stomach begin to grow tighter with each stroke. Your hips began to buck against his fingers, riding them, chasing the euphoric friction that sent shock waves of pleasure through you. “Doing so well for me, fucking yourself on my fingers” he praised, looking down at the sight of you spread on his digits, listening to the sinful sounds of your slick granting him access to your very core. “Feels…s’ good” you managed to get out, making him chuckle at your pathetic reply. It didn’t take much to reduce you to near delirium, whether it be from his fingers, his tongue, his teeth or his cock, he was quite skilled in the many areas of your pleasure. “Cum for me, Draga mea. Sing for me” he encouraged, his lips once again finding that spot on your neck that always sent you reeling, waiting for the perfect moment to sink his teeth into you. Waiting for the telling signs that bliss was just around the corner for you.

Once his sharp fangs finally sank into the tender flesh of your neck, it was electric, sending you toppling over the edge into the most intense, nearly all-consuming orgasm. Pain and pleasure melded together in a wonderful memory of what it had felt like the first time his fangs pierced your skin, gulping down your sweet essence as he turned you. Electric pulses soared down through your spine, lighting your every nerve ending on fire in a sadistically sensual way that you only craved to feel from him. His eyes rolled beneath shut lids at the taste of you, gulping down your dulcet ichor yet remaining mindful enough to savor its flavor. He groaned into you at the taste, feeling the ache between his legs throb with vigor as your orgasm pulsed through your body. How he craved you so desperately in this moment. To be intertwined with you, lost in you and the woes of passion that entwines you. It appeared that he could wait no longer.

In the blink of an eye, the sheets were ripped from your grasp, exposing your body to his view once more. He needed you, and it was evident by the ever growing wetness in your core that you needed him too.

Once he’d had his fill he released his jaws from you, cleaning up the mess of your shoulder, and his lips, the best that he could with his tongue alone. You watched as his long, almost pointed tongue cleaned the remnants of your blood from his lips, but what he hadn’t noticed was the small trickle that cascaded from the corner of his mouth. Your fingers grasped his chin softly, allowing you to tilt and move his face as you needed. You smiled at him before you leaned up to collect the trail of crimson that dripped from the corner of his mouth onto your tongue. You hummed pleasantly before pulling him into a passionate kiss, wishing to taste more of your sweet decadence from his lips. You felt the grin rise to the corners of his mouth before you could see it, but upon drawing back, you saw the smeared red mess left behind. “How succulent you are” he stated, breaking the silence between you. “Only the finest for you, my king. Would you grant me an indulgence of you in return, dearest?” You asked, lying on your back beneath him now, making him laugh at such a meek question being asked in such a seductive tone. “As if I could ever deny you, my love” he replied, lining himself up to your entrance before slipping in slowly, allowing you to acclimate to his size. He watched your face twist with both pain and pleasure as he sheathed himself within you. It didn’t matter how many times you would share intimacy with him, his sheer size alone always left you with that bittersweet stretch as if it were your first time taking him in. He adored how your hair fell around the pillow beneath your head like a halo, how your chest rose and fell with each labored breath brought about by the pleasure he brought you once a pace was set. You were ethereal. He swore it. Perfect in ways he thought were impossible. Yet here you lay before him, scarlet eyes gazing up at him with wonder and lust but above all else;

Love.

His hips pistoned into you as he lowered himself to hover just above you, his large hands splayed out by the sides of your head. He watched you litter his skin with feather light kisses as you ascended up his arm to his neck, soon hovering over the same spot that he enjoyed feeding from you so often. His hips seemed to roll on their own, almost desperate, accord as your tongue dragged along the favored spot, leaving him to shiver with anticipation of when you would take from him. Much like Alucard, you had a tendency towards playfulness, enjoying the delightful shivers, and hedonistic groans as you would tease him, working him up to the blissful moment. One might say you like to play with your food. Your eyes flit to his own that rest behind shut lids, basking in the tightness and wet feel of your cunt wrapped so snuggly around him. You gave a grin before finally you sank your teeth into him, feeling his girth twitch and throb within you at the sounds you made as you fed from him. “That’s it, take from me. Take from me everything you need, my love. I am yours as you are mine” he rambled through his groans of pleasure, rutting into you deeply and reaching those spots within you that left your head spinning. He groaned at the mix or your moans that lay in harmony with the feral sounds of you feeding from him only working to further turn him on. The searing pain of your sharp fangs buried into his neck, mixing with the pleasure of your delicious cunt wrapped around him so perfectly left him nearly delirious.

Once you had finally detached yourself from him, he understood the appeal of the sight he had graced you with before, finding himself following your previous actions. His tongue traced the small stream of his blood that leaked from the corner of your lips, collecting it all before tangling his tongue with your own in a frenzied kiss. His hand grabbed at your thigh, propping your leg up against his hip to reach deeper within you. As if he wasn’t deep enough already, his tip bullying the apex of your cervix with each thrust. Had you a fertile human womb still, you’d worry about leaving his chambers pregnant from just how often you found yourselves tangled together within his sheets. “Draga mea…” he whispered lovingly against your lips as you gasped and moaned, your mind hazed and nearly blank as the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the depths of his chambers. He watched as you writhed beneath him in ecstasy, how your breasts bounced in time with his thrusts. He simply couldn’t get enough of you. “You are perfection, my sweet” he praised, making you whimper as the familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach began to grow tight, already so sensitive and worked up from him playing with you before. “Cum for me, my love. Delight me with your ecstasy” he cooed, watching you bite your lip and your face contort as you reached closer and closer to your breaking point. It was as his fingers reached down to toy with your clit, rubbing circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves that pushed you over the edge. Your body arched against his, a cry of bliss leaving your lips as your climax washed over you mercilessly. Your every nerve ending wrecked and body alight from the pleasure as you dug your nails into his back with a cry of his name. “How delicious you are” he replied, watching as your breaths grew labored, your chest rising and falling in tandem with each deep inhale then exhale as you made your descent from cloud nine. His movements began to lose their rhythm, signaling to you that his release was just around the corner. You smiled up at him, hand resting delicately on his cheek as he looked down upon you. “I love you” you whispered in declaration, earning a smile from him before causing him to lean down and take your lips in a heated kiss. He groaned into it as his seed painted your walls with each thrust, his hips moving with much more softness now than they had before, much slower, as he worked to bury every last drop within you, effectively marking you his. “I love you too, my queen” he replied, making you giggle happily as you shared in the intimate moment and passion filled kiss. You wrapped your arms around your vampiric lover, keeping him as close to you as possible, wishing to revel in the sacchar of your still conjoined bodies.

You couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled from deep within you as he collapsed on top of you, his full weight baring down on you. You wriggled and fought to free yourself of his weight, yet try as you might, you also couldn’t help but find comfort in it. Peace in knowing that he felt safe with you to be this way, that he could be vulnerable and playful with you in ways he has never shared with anyone else. You ran your delicate fingers up and down the expanse of his back, effectively granting him a moment of much welcomed tranquility in your arms. If there was one thing in this entire world that he wished for most, he wished only to spend the rest of eternity this way, with love in his heart, and you to share it all with. With you, forever no longer felt so bleak. With you, eternal life felt as vivacious as mortal life, and he wouldn’t dare to dream of it any other way now that he had you beside him.

#hellsing #hellsing ultimate #Alucard #Alucard X reader #Alucard smut #smut #fluff #Alucard imagine #vampires #Halloween #Halloween smut #vampire smut

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autlantic · 3 days ago

Text

BREAK (PART 2)

iwaizumi x reader , oikawa x reader

1.3k words

this is NOT proof read my bad guys.

and i’ll break for you baby, cause you make it feel so good

Snow fell over the next few days.

The thick white blanket was a blessing, trapping you in the warmth and comfort of home- and away from the situation you soon had to face. Eventually, the roads were dug up and coated in salt, your perfectly timed refuge coming to an end.

You could hear Tooru calling your name, knocking impatiently at your front door. Usually the sound filled you with excitement, but today his preening voice just brought you closer to facing school- to facing Hajime.

You pulled the front door open, plastering a smile on your face. Tooru tutted at your appearance, pulling at the thick scarf wrapped round your neck with his brows furrowed.

“You’re supposed to be making it up to me, you know.“ He pouted, shovelling the soft material into your bag.

You attempted to enjoy the walk, listening to Tooru’s usual rambles as Aoba Josai began to emerge in the distance. You shivered, heart beating faster as the two of you approached the gate. Snow coated the ground and greenery, twinkling under the morning sun like little fragments of diamond.

“You’ll meet me after practice later yes?” The brown eyed boy questions, gazing down at you expectantly.

“Yeah, sure. See you then Tooru.”

—

Tennis practice is exhausting. The whole team are practicing in matching blue and white tracksuits, refusing to be affected by the weather when winter matches are so close. Towards the end, a second year with short blonde hair and flushed cheeks approaches you.

“Good work out there! Are you alright?” You question kindly, noticing the way her eyes dart around nervously.

“I was just wondering..” The girl starts off, still avoiding eye contact. “Seeing as you’re Oikawa’s girlfriend and all…”

You freeze at that. Were you Oikawa’s girlfriend? The two of you had made up, yes, but the dynamic felt different this time. The topic of labels hadn’t been brought up yet, which you felt surprisingly thankful for.

“Does- does Iwaizumi san have a girlfriend?”

The second year looks hopeful, pink now trailing down her neck and up to the tips of her ears. She was cute. She made an angry feeling build up in your throat.

It’s not like you had any right to care- you’d had your chance with the short haired ace, and completely thrown it back into his face.

“Oh… I don’t think he does no.” You forced out, suppressing the green monster as the younger girl grinned, thanked you and ran off in a fit of giggles.

You hovered nervously outside the volleyball gym, waiting for Tooru, when the door slammed open.

Iwaizumi was slightly damp with sweat, sports bag slung lazily over his shoulder as he eyed you with surprise. He looked handsome, tanned skin flushed red from the exercise, athletic jacket left half zipped as if he was in a hurry to leave.

“Oikawa’s getting changed. He’ll be out soon.” Hajime spoke, voice monotone and eyes burning into yours. Usually you’d reel back at the intensity of the eye contact, but something about him still felt safe and comforting.

“See you around.” He added on, walking away before you had a chance to respond. You winced at the interaction, something sharp digging around in your chest.

hold me down, and maybe i’ll quit if you stick around

The winter tennis league had crept up quickly. Your nails were bitten red raw with nervousness, your future in the sport reliant on the few hours that lay ahead. Tooru had rang that morning, reminding you that he would ‘try his best to come’, but that exams and volleyball had him busy. You weren’t that disappointed at this, it wouldn’t be the first time he hadn’t made the time to come and watch you.

Walking onto the court, you refused to look towards the crowd and risk ruining your focus. The match was intense, but after a final hit you emerged victorious, the rest of the tennis club running to embrace you and screech out excited congratulations.

“Your friend came to watch, you should go find him!” One of your beloved friends mentions.

You see him by the water fountain, broad shoulders leant against the wall as he watched you approach.

“You came!”

Iwaizumi nods, a softness lingering in his hazel eyes. “Yeah, I told you I would. You’re still my friend.”

For some reason the corner of your eyes sting. You blink the sensation away.

“I’m really sorry, Hajime.” You offer genuinely, trying to read his usual stoic expression. “I miss you. A lot.”

He smiles softly. “I know, and I forgive you.” Iwaizumi couldn’t stay angry when you look like that; all soft and sweet and pretty. God he loved you. You looked even more perfect when you gazed at him with that curious hopeful look in your eyes. He couldn’t quite place it, but it made him feel good.

You had made such a mistake. You didn’t know how to tell him.

keep quiet, it’s the only place i know but it’s my favourite.

You’d seen Hajime every day since the match. Staying up late studying, eating lunch together, discussing what you wanted to study university. Your friends began to pick up on it, asking why you weren’t with Tooru- the captain in question always had an excuse of plans or exhaustion that meant you barely saw him.

Whilst you were at practice, Iwaizumi and Oikawa were catching up in the boys locker rooms.

“Can I let you in on a secret, Iwa-chan?” Tooru grinned, head cocked to one side. “If you wanna be successful with girls, you should at least read their confession letters before rejecting them.”

Iwaizumi grimaced, recalling his possibly too harsh rejection of a blonde second year earlier that day. He wasn’t interested in reading the letter, as he knew he wasn’t interested in anyone other than you- as painful as that was.

“Suki wrote me a real cute letter. And bakes me things. That’s why I keep her around more than all the others.” Oikawa grinned, waving a little package of cookies wrapped in a pink ribbon.

“What?” Hajime stared blankly at the friend he’d had for years. “You can’t seriously still be seeing other girls?”

“Of course I am. It’s not like i’m tied down. No labels, no loyalty.” Oikawa smirked.

Hajime lost it.

Without thinking, his calloused fist made contact with the merciless smirk on his friend’s face, the bang echoing as Oikawa stumbled into the metal lockers behind him.

Tooru lifted a hand to his face, bringing it back down to see the smear of red blood from his now split lip.

“Coming to her rescue isn’t gonna make her want you.” The bleeding boy sneered.

Iwaizumi stormed out.

After practice, you wandered off towards the school gates. It was late, and you doubted Tooru or Hajime were still around at this time. However, to your surprise, you could hear voices coming from the open window at the back of the volleyball gym.

“It’s not like i’m tied down. No labels, no loyalty.”

You weren’t surprised at the whose voice was speaking. It still hurt though, your first relationship coming to such a failure of an end right in front of your eyes. What was more surprising was the loud and unmistakable bang of your ex boyfriend being punched in his charming face.

The next words spoke by Tooru broke your heart more than his disloyalty.

Hajime stormed out of the gym, and you chased after him hurriedly.

“Hajime!”

“Haji, wait, please-“

He span round, fists still screwed up so tight his knuckles had gone pale.

“Not now, y/n, please. I’ve had enough of this little game you two are playing with me.”

“He’s wrong.” You pleaded, grabbing his shoulder as he went to turn away. “Tooru, he’s wrong. I do want you. More than anything.”

He stared at you. Your heart was beating in your mouth.

Hajime’s arms reached for you, pulling you against his firm chest and smearing his lips against yours. The kiss was warm, his large hand at the back of your neck to hold you close, tongue running against your lower lip. You gripped at his shirt, panting as he pulled away, foreheads touching. Iwaizumi felt right.

and i’m sick for you baby, and it’s never gonna go away

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #hq angst #hq x reader #iwazumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #oikawa x reader #oikawa #🍀.works

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searenbound · 7 months ago

Text

Ha, exercising endorphins are crazy effective motivators apparently. Anyway, here's some yandere Dabi.

Warnings: yandere, homestock syndrome, codependency, implied abuse/a romanticized view of one's abuse, dubcon/noncon, implied breeding kink, cliffhanger ending

Pairing: Dabi (Touya Todoroki) x reader

Codependency, what a horrid drug that was.

Toxic and lethal, disgustingly sweet and impossible to give up. What a fucked way to say ‘I love you, I need you’, it's the only way they knew how to though.

And what a fucking mess that was too.

For her to love him, to need him as desperately as they needed air to live. A man who couldn't possibly know the meaning of, or reason why he loved her.

To love a monster who kept her under lock and key, who stole her from everything she once knew and loved.

What a mess.

She thinks she should hate him.

He's littered her flesh with marks, bruises and burns, evidence that he's touched her. Evidence that he's far too rough, too unstable to love as gently and sweetly as she deserves. She still runs her fingers along fresh marks as if they were trophies. Proof he loved her, just a touch too passionately.

She thinks she should run the next chance she gets, but she never takes it. What would she do if she left? He needs her to keep him sane, he's said so, told her over and over again. She needs to stay, she can't leave him!

She should say no, should hold her legs tightly together, but she couldn't help the way her body and heart betrayed her.

Couldn't help the stuttering gasps as long slender fingers entered her.

“Say it Doll, you know what I want to hear”

His voice is low with an almost pleading tone like he was the one begging for the pleasure of sweet release. Fingers moving painfully slow as he stared down at her withering form.

“Please T-Touya, l-love you!”

She pleads in response, desperate for him to believe her, that she wants to stay by him because she is just as in love with him.

His fingers speed up for a moment, hurtling her toward her orgasm only to stop abruptly. Pulling a whine from her and a confused look.

“Do you?”

He’s unreadable. Flat-toned and blank gaze as she struggled to sit up only to be pinned down by too-hot hands that threatened to burn her again.

“I do! I-I love you! I—”

“You'll make me a father then?”

Her eyes widened, he wants kids? He couldn't be a father, could he? She shouldn't let him, but, maybe a baby would be nice. Maybe it'll give her a real reason to stay maybe it'll make him better.

“P-please! Give me a baby!”

She pleads and he's quick to respond and push into her wait entrance.

Groaning at the warmth enveloping his cock and savoring it for a moment before starting a ruthless pace, only truly chasing his own pleasure, toying with her clit almost as if it was an afterthought.

#dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki x reader smut #todoroki touya x reader #todoroki touya x reader smut #touya x reader #touya x reader smut #tw yandere #tw abuse #tw dubious consent #tw non con

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deblklesb · 2 years ago

Text

[Let's get physical! Pt. 1 — Abby x Reader]

[established relationship, fem!reader, fluffy but gets kinda nsfw by the end, jocker!abby, modern!au, MDNI]

cw: flirty times, nsfw memories, hip trusts

a/n: this was a request sent by @cottagecheese340! thanks for the request, i had the most fun writing this. i plan to post part2 as soon as i can! hope you enjoy it! (ps.: not me projecting on the reader about the social awkwardness)

not proof read (eng is not my first language, if something is wrong y'all can let me know!)

reblogs are highly appreciated!

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You almost didn't enter your apartment as your leg keeps pulsating with pain. Not only because of the physical difficulty, but also because you could already imagine your girlfriend's reaction: concern, and then she would help you carefully and spoil you for the rest of the night because you're hurt.

It didn't sound bad - it didn't feel either -, but you couldn't help but feel embarrassed anyway. Embarrassment got you there, in the first place.

Being a socially awkward person wasn't easy like some people think. Actually, it's hard to find ways to escape social situations just to feel a little more comfortable. Gym was an example of that: you've always had a hard time concealing with that environment because of the amount of people and the state of mind you'd have to get into - which was harder precisely because of the people around. So you didn't know much about gym exercises, despite needing to go there and do them.

But, hey, it could be easier since your girlfriend is a major gym goer, right?

Absolut, fuckingly wrong.

Asking her to help you was a hard time on its own. Abby was the most caring, sweet person with you, but… You're embarrassed. And not that you never announce your needs and wants, but that specific topic was difficult.

Well, that sore leg would do the work, uh?

Breathing deeply, you unlocked the door and carefully entered the illuminated apartment, trying your best to walk properly and not limp.

"Babe?" Her voice came from the kitchen, she was probably making dinner.

"Hi, love", you tried to sound chill and super not painful. "What are you doing?"

"Just some pasta and beef, thought we could use a proper dinner since I got out of work earlier today", her tall figure appeared on the hallway, reaching you in a second to kiss you once, twice. A small smile adorned her lips as she looked at you. "How you doing?"

"I'm fine", you smiled too, kinda using the hug to not lean on the sore leg. "And you?"

"Better now", her tone was so caring and flirty, it took a chuckle from you. "Were you at the gym?"

"Ah, I-...", you couldn't deny when wearing the same clothes from earlier, but you looked away and your brain malfunctioned for a second. "Uh- yeah! Guess I could try some gym time, y'know?"

"Oh, how was it?" Abby parted the hug, grabbing your bag to help you to the room.

"It was… Interesting", yeah, getting hurt it's very interesting.

You both started to walk to your shared bedroom, and as much as you tried not to look at her with guilt and walk properly, Abby stopped on her tracks and made your heart skip a beat. Fuck her sharp eyes.

"Babe, are you okay? Why are you limping?" Her hand rested on your shoulder, warm and careful as she was with you.

You hissed with pain when learning on the right leg to prove her wrong, ruining all the effort to hide the situation. Then you sighed, finally looking directly at her and supporting yourself on the wall.

"I kinda may have hurted my leg a little", her eyes widened at that, your bag being left on the table as Abby came closer to help you stand properly. "doing some movement. I think it wasn't exactly well done…"

"Shit, babe, come here", you leaned on her until reaching the couch, where you sat with your back against the arm of the furniture, stretching the leg. "I'll turn off the stove, be right back", she patted your thigh, running to the kitchen.

The seconds she was away were used for you to sigh again, trying not to feel too anxious. You didn't like to think that you were disturbing or something, even though you knew that was a crazy idea - the intrusive thoughts were troublesome sometimes.

"Now tell me how this happened", she held an ointment whilst sitting with your leg on her lap.

Abby didn't seem annoyed or anything, obviously. She just started to spread the mint-smell substance on the place you pointed when she asked.

"I was… trying to work my leg on one of those machines and then it started to hurt, I don't know exactly where I messed up." Your breath were a little bit short with nervousness.

"It's okay, it's normal. Especially since you aren't accustomed to gym props", her voice was so calm while the strong hands massaged the sore muscle. "Why didn't you ask me to help you?"

"Because I was kinda embarrassed", you revealed after some seconds, face blushing a little since you still had a hard time opening up. Well, if someone were there to support you and listen to you without judgment, that would be your girlfriend, right? Her and your closest friends were those people. "I don't like going to the gym, but I need to. And it's frustrating enough, I didn't want to feel like I was asking too much, or something, especially because… I have absolutely no idea of what I'm doing and it's even more embarrassing"

"Okay", Abby nodded carefully, locking eyes with you while her hands kept working. She remained calm, not wanting to alarm you in any way. "Well, I want you to know you wouldn't be asking too much. And that I will tell you if I can't help you with something, but I'll be here supporting you regardless and I'll do my best. Alright?"

The feeling of her palms on your leg were starting to relax you, as you nodded and breathed deeply for once.

"And look, I'm a grown woman. I think I can handle helping you and establishing my limits. What do you think?" She smiled to reassure you.

"I think you're right, grown woman", you both chuckled as she finished the massage. You held a hand of hers and kissed the back of it, caressing her skin as you rested the head on the furniture then. Your heart was calming itself gradually. "Thank you. I love you"

"Love you too, kitty cat." The nickname made you laugh. She started to call you that way after finding a picture of you dressed as a human-size cat for your cousin's birthday. The costume had orange fur and your face was painted and all. You felt funny but your cousin loved it.

"Will you ever let go of this?"

"Never", the honey-blonde stood up and rested your leg on the couch again, kissing you on the lips briefly, her braid falling to the side when she leaned over. "Now let me finish the dinner. We'll eat and then go bath"

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

A week later you both decided to go to the gym together. Abby said that it would be empty on earlier hours, and so you got out of bed with difficulty due to the diminished sleeping time.

It started to be a routine: three times a week Abby helped you choose the machines to work on and then she'd indicate the right way to use it. The woman would supervise and then go to work on her own series, still watching you carefully from where she stood.

You had to admit, with that silence around and just the two of you there, the environment didn't seem that bad. The rays of sunshine would start to enter the place more brightly, as the morning advanced. Only you, Abby and the receptionist were at that entire gym.

But, on top of that, there was another thing that kept you coming to the gym all those days.

The vision of Abby concentrated, pulling weights in different positions and machines, made you quiver. And even more: her care and delicacy while teaching you the movements and explaining the machines… That was something else.

You were a major simp for your girlfriend talking about stuff she liked and was dedicated to, but it didn't help how she looked and behaved inside the gym. Knowing how your body comfort was in her hands created a responsibility, a commitment to lay all the information necessary in the most clear way.

First, she'd show you the machine in general. Explain how it worked and the purpose, show you the gadgets, all of that constantly looking back at you to be sure of your understanding. Then, Abby would have you positioned on the machine and would instruct how to work on it, slowly and attentive to your posture.

"Your back needs to be straight, babe. Yes, just like that"

After her blue eyes crossed over your body to catch in every detail she could, while you did a series, Abby would smile and say "that's it, you're ready to go, pretty girl"

And you didn't wanna say how absolutely sexy that was.

How you needed extra effort to concentrate on her words, because the overall situation threw you off so easily. How her gestures and indications with her hands made you hold back enamored sighs. Or how her light touches on your body, to guide you through the first few movements, or just get your attention to the correct position, created little heat spaces on your skin.

That whole situation unlocked a new amazing thing to notice about your girlfriend, and you felt like a blessing fell into you. The sore muscle was worth it.

"Understood?" Her voice called you back from a daydream.

Putting to the side the thoughts that came from her so eloquent speech, you nodded and thanked Abby, before the woman went to carry some weights.

Looking from afar, you tried to concentrate on your series, working your legs. The image of Abby pushing up with the arms on her sides, going up and down next to her head, biceps flexing and abdomen and chest moving with breath. Skin getting flushed red and sweaty with effort.

You tried so hard not to notice too much, not to make your sights explicit, but then the minutes passed and Abby finished her series. And the blue eyes rested on you, a fact you took longer to understand than you were proud of.

Looking away and finishing your own series, you tried not to blush under her attention and cleared your throat, grabbing the bottle of water. Your legs hurt a bit, heavy muscles.

"Okay, what now?" You asked, resting a hand on the hip.

"Now rest a little", the blonde suggested with a smirk while using the shirt to dry her sweaty face, your heart skipped a beat or two at the vision of her abs. Damn her for still getting you on your feelings. "Wanna help me out?"

"M'kay. Let's see what you got", she chuckled, going to a horizontal bench now.

You put the bottle to the side, and when you looked at her again she was seated on the floor.

"What you want me to do?" Abby looked up when you stood next to her, propping herself with her back against the bench, hips out of the ground and legs separated.

"Sit on me"

You blinked once and twice, gulping. Phrasing like that you might as well do it anyways.

"Excuse me?"

"Sit on my hip, babe. Rest your feet on my thighs", she kept instructing you, but your mind wasn't really caring about the indications. The implications were on stake here, as you straddled as she told and felt your face getting hotter. "You can put your hands on my shoulders to balance", and you did so, her warm hands holding yours carefully. "Ready?"

Before you could nod, Abby lowered her hips and then trusted up.

You couldn't remember a time when you got that flustered around her, trying not to think about what that looked like, what would happen if someone got in the room, how fucking hot was the fact that your girlfriend could sustain your weight on her hips. Without permission, your cunt throbbed.

For sure you had an unbelieved expression, staring at Abby's face in order to avoid the sight of where your bodies met lower.

"Keep still, okay? You're doing good", you couldn't talk. Any words were thrown away from your mind right now, at least the adequate ones.

She kept doing that and you kept trying not to pathetically moan over that situation alone.

Her body was so firm and hot.

What the fuck was happening?

Abby rested, sitting on the floor for some seconds with you still on her lap, hands gripping her shoulders. "That was awesome", her voice was excited but also with a hint of something else as she tenderly touched your hips and continued. "We should try it more frequently"

"Yeah", your voice cracked, demanding you to clear your throat. "Absolutely"

And then the silence was too loud and consuming, just the two of you there in that position.

Her features caught your attention; blue eyes and freckled skin, beautiful lips and nose, cheeks and chin you loved to kiss. All of her seemed to call for you.

"Babe", her voice, the velvety tone that could take you to the stars, drew you back again. "Ready for another one?"

"Go for it", you smiled with effort to not fall into more fantasies right now, in a public space. "Let's see how much you can take it"

Abby's smug sent chills through your spine as she adjusted and then trusted the hips again, eyes locked on your with the most consuming determination. You held back a whine, breathing deeply with her.

"Fuck…", you whispered at another trust, moisturing your lips.

"What, babe?"

And just like that you mind flew to that time when she fucked you with her strap. When you cried her name and let out incomprehensible words under your moans, having Abby asking "what, babe? I didn't catch that" as the silicone object were pushed and pulled into your wet cunt. You remembered her panting and smirking as your tits bounced in front of her, as you tried to move your hips along because you were getting more and more heated.

"Abby…", your hips moved once without you noticing and then you froze, the foggy memory fading as she trusted again and you recalled where you both were.

"Yes?" A shit-eating grin denounced all. She knew exactly what she was doing.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

[divider by @froopis]

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