#but i have no control over anything and i keep on making the same mistakes over and over

[the-irrelevant-trumpeter]

fuck

[heirofnight]

finally

pairing: azriel x reader

word count: 4.6k - this one's a doozy, buckle up.

based on this request: Hi hi can I get an angsty Azriel x fem!reader fic. Basically they’re mates but they don’t have the best relationship for whatever reason. Rhysand sends them on a mission somewhere and somehow Azriels mind gets taken over and he attacks reader. She doesn’t want to leave Azriel even though he begs her to before he lost control because despite everything she did love him. Reader ends up getting hurt but was thankfully able to reach out to Rhysand in time. Rhysand then clears Azriels mind from whatever was done to him. Azriel ofc beats himself up over it, but then they kiss and makeup.

content warnings: talk of death, reader gets attacked, choking

a/n: this was a TRIP to write. for all of you requesting angst, i'm serving it on a silver platter. i hope you love it! first time writing a fic based on a request, so i hope i did it justice. let me know what you think! as always, lightly edited. pls ignore any mistakes <3

"are you serious?", you spat out, scoffing in disbelief. you crossed your arms across your chest immediately, your body language depicting just how frustrated you were.

azriel stood next to you, keeping way too much distance for a male that was apparently, allegedly your mate.

some mate, you sneered within your swirling mind. you'd both still refused to accept the bond, and if anything, it had just made the already avoidant relationship between the both of you even worse.

you were convinced that this was some sort of divine mistake, there was simply no way that azriel was your mate. we have absolutely nothing in common, another brief thought that had you glancing at him from the corner of your peripheral - just to find him standing in the exact same stance that you currently held. arms crossed, body language defensive, expression stoic.

you cleared your throat and quickly dropped your arms to your sides, straightening your spine before meeting rhys' violet gaze once more. his eyes sparkled with amusement, knowing exactly what you were thinking. whether you were that transparent, or he had actually caught you with your mental shields down - you didn't know. the wards within your mind were the least of your concerns right now.

"i am absolutely serious, i'm afraid", rhys smirked, enjoying the entertainment of watching both you and azriel spiral towards an inevitable juvenile skirmish. especially at his own hand.

azriel huffed a frustrated breath, his shadows becoming more frenzied as they ebbed and flowed around his body. you glanced at him once more, noticed the way his wings had drooped in defeat. you found yourself beginning to admire his side profile, his sculpted, pretty features calling to you in a moment of weakness. you quickly averted your gaze.

you'd never claimed he wasn't attractive, that much about him was painfully obvious. and since he was - unfortunately - your mate, there were moments where it felt as though every fiber, cell, and atom of your body were screaming for his. you'd wondered if he ever felt the same.

"rhys, this is ridiculous. there is no reason for her to join me. i never have help on missions - i never need it," his words grew more strained as he spoke, his last words ending in a near-snarl.

you rolled your eyes at his arrogance, throwing your hands up in exasperation before letting them slap against your thighs. "oh, i'm so sorry, azriel. how could i possibly offer any significant knowledge or assistance with this job, when you're already the most wisest, skilled, and capable male ever gifted by the gods? how can any of us forget - we pale in comparison to the all-feared shadowsinger," your tone was mocking as you turned towards him, cheeks reddening in exasperation.

azriel met your gaze, eyes narrowed as he deadpanned, "most wise".

you narrowed your own gaze to match his, "what?", you scoffed out.

"you said most wisest. that makes no sense. i believe you meant most wise," he stated dryly, tone emotionless.

your cheeks reddened further, expression twisting into one of pure anger. it didn't help that you heard rhys struggling to hold back a bark of laughter.

"okay, honestly, fuck yo-", you began, ready to spit pure venom straight into his veins with your words.

"enough," rhys commanded, voice booming. you froze, huffing out a breath before looking over at the high lord - he was now standing, his hands braced against the surface of his desk. his eyes held no amusement, no laughter. he was fed up.

"you are to both deploy on this mission. you are to both work together to track down this rebel group of daemati, and you are to both report back here with your findings. you keep each other safe. you work together. and you stop this childish bickering," rhys stated, his tone taking on a quality of pure nobility.

he looked between both you and azriel with striking violet eyes. "you leave tomorrow. am i clear?", the high lord questioned, and you knew he required an answer.

"yes," you and your mate replied at the same time, in the same brooding tone. rhys quirked an eyebrow at that, smirking slyly.

"great. have fun, you two," he gave a swooping gesture with his arm in dismissal.

the next morning, you and azriel departed right after breakfast. it was a shared - albeit silent - meal, and you found yourself glancing up at him behind the rim of your glass every single time you took a sip. you didn't know it, but azriel was sparing you the same glances as he ate his porridge.

the rebel group of daemati were last known to be located near the northern edge of the day court's borders - nearing the court of nightmares. the plan was to teleport close to the border itself, and you and azriel both knew that you'd more than likely have to track them from that location to wherever they were now.

you'd left from the house of wind's balcony after eating - azriel reluctantly placing a large hand on your shoulder before teleporting you both in a blanket of darkness and swirling shadows.

once the shadows dissipated, you'd found yourselves in a chilled, heavily wooded patch of forest. you blinked a few times, gaining your bearings. before your eyes had even fully focused on where you were, azriel was stalking off to your left, already on the prowl.

you rolled your eyes, jogging after him in order to catch up. "is your plan to 'accidentally' lose me in the woods?", you sneered, your legs burning as you tried to keep up with his long strides. you crouched down hastily to avoid a low-hanging branch that almost collided with your cheek. you'd been too busy glaring at the side of azriel's head to notice it.

he huffed, his boots crunching against fallen leaves. "keep up, and you won't get lost," he offered, his shadows darting out ahead of him to scout the surrounding area for traces of your target.

you grumbled, eyeing his smoky tendrils as they swirled in different directions. "prick," you said under your breath, pushing another branch out of your path.

you could have sworn you saw the corner of his lips quirk upward at your comment, an action that you would have almost found endearing if it weren't for the current situation you found yourself in. as much as you didn't want to admit it to yourself, you were nervous. you'd never been on a mission, especially not one that felt as high stakes as this one. daemati were dangerous. able to enter, control - and if trained enough, completely shatter - minds without so much as blinking. sure, as a scholar, you'd had brief knowledge on how to handle their kind, but coming across one daemati was rare - much less an entire pissed off group of them.

this could end terribly. and you did not want to be the one to sabotage this outing.

one single coil of shadow darted back towards azriel, whispering against the shell of his ear. "this way," he pointed to your right with a scarred hand, and you adjusted your path accordingly. you found your gaze following his hand as he lowered it to his side once more, and azriel glanced down, noticing where your eyes had landed.

he felt his pulse quicken, not sure what to make of your sudden interest in his hands. it was already an insecurity of his, and he knew that you'd not be shy to prey on that fact.

he cleared his throat, running that same hand through his hair in order to break your gaze. you inhaled a sharp breath, realizing you'd been caught. you opted to stare straight ahead instead, the normal silence between the both of you now feeling awkward.

should you say something? you didn't want him to think you'd been looking at the skin of his hands in disgust. it was the furthest thing from the truth. and while you weren't the hugest fan of his, you would never think poorly of him in regards to his trauma.

"i -," you started, clearing your own throat now. he glanced over at you from the corner of his eye, not urging you to finish.

"i've always thought they were beautiful - your hands," you said sincerely, voice nothing more than a whisper that you were certain a gust of wind could carry away on a breeze - never to be heard.

he took a deep breath, blowing it out through his nose harshly.

"thank you," he said softly, nodding once.

a lifeline, that's what it felt like.

my mate, he thought to himself, trudging forward.

you'd both continued on in comfortable silence for the next few hours. the bundle of nerves in the pit of your stomach was beginning to unravel, and you had to admit: you felt safe with azriel. not that you'd assumed he'd leave you for dead at any point during this mission - at the very least, rhys had commanded he return you to velaris safely. even if azriel somehow personally wanted you dead, he wouldn't defy his high lord's orders.

regardless, you were beginning to feel safe alongside him on your own accord.

a few times, you'd attempted to speak. pointing out various birds that you'd seen perched in the high branches of trees, or remarking on types of flowers that you'd walk past - many of which weren't native to velaris. azriel would notice the way your voice perked up as you spoke of them, noticed a certain kind of wistful joy that crept into your eyes, widening your pupils.

his own gaze began to soften as he observed you, finding your wholesome awe endearing. he listened carefully as you passionately explained each finding. cute, he'd thought briefly, warming up to your company. your hair whipped around you on a stray breeze, a strand catching right across your nose. his hand twitched, the urge to effortlessly brush it from your face filling him to the brim. but before he was able to build up the courage to do so, you'd beat him to it, and his hand stilled.

you were just about to point out yet another bird flying across the dusk-dusted sky when a familiar tendril of shadow approached azriel's ear.

"silence," he whispered in a hushed tone, halting his steps. he tensed up alongside you, his wings pulling in tightly at his back.

you closed your mouth, swallowing what you'd meant to say. you froze in place slightly behind him, waiting with shallow breaths for his next order.

"up ahead," he whispered, nodding his chin towards what looked to be a plume of smoke rising into the chilled air. your eyes followed the path of his gaze, and you squinted to make out the scene before you.

azriel crouched next to your still-standing form as he attempted to get a better look from a different angle.

it appeared to be a campsite of some sort - whoever was stationed there had clearly decided to stop traveling for the evening. the sun was quickly lowering behind the mountain range in the distance, and the air was even more frigid than when you'd both begun your trek. you felt a shiver wrack through your body, and azriel glanced up at you, frowning slightly.

he watched as you studied the growing fire before the both of you, his gaze lingering for just a second too long. you looked down at him, your eyes meeting for the first time all day. your breath hitched at the eye contact, and you faltered for a moment.

"so do we-", you spoke quietly.

"let's just-", he spoke at the same time.

you smiled warmly, dropping your head and huffing out a laugh.

he smirked, grabbing your wrist gently to pull you down to his level. "my shadows picked up on a few daemati tracks. i'm assuming its a small group - they must have decided to stop here for the evening. i'm guessing it's four, maybe five of them," he explained in a hushed tone, his eyes finding the campsite once more.

you thought for a moment, observing him.

"so, what's the best way to go about this?", you asked, voice soft.

he was about to reply, but his body froze, mouth poised to speak but nothing emerged.

there was a momentary pause before his expression transformed into one of pain, pure agony. he grunted, bracing his arms against the ground beneath him. his eyes were screwed shut in pain.

you startled, falling back onto your butt as you took in the scene before you with wide eyes.

no, no no no.

you supposed your brain knew what was happening before your body could react.

and that's when you felt it, a stifling, world-ending level of pain - unrelenting pain that felt so real, so true. but it wasn't your own pain. it was azriel's, through the white-hot golden bond that tethered the two of you together. until this moment, azriel had made sure to keep his emotions sequestered from you - you had done the same. out of pure spite, disdain for the cauldron's decision to fuse the two of you together for eternity.

until this moment. when azriel opened the floodgates of his own mind, letting you in. warning you.

"az," you breathed out, moving to rest a hand on his shoulder in gut-wrenching fear.

he gritted his teeth, letting out a horrible groan of distress.

"leave," he gnashed out, his voice strained. he let out another roar of pain.

you shook your head, eyes wide and pained.

"no, azriel. no. i'm not," you said sternly, voice watery.

"y/n," he forced out, nails digging into the dirt beneath him as he fought the intrusion of the daemati.

"y/n," he repeated, groaning once more, "it has me. it's going to make me hurt you," he strained, "you have to go. contact rhys, and go," he fell onto his side, wings flaring in exertion.

you scrambled towards him, placing a hand on his forehead. your heart was beating so rapidly, you were half-expecting it to leap from your throat and join azriel's form on the dampened ground.

all you could do was shake your head, over and over and over.

"no, no, no," you whispered, eyes filling with tears. you felt a fear so absolute, wholly understanding right then the pure agony that crawled into every crevice when the person on the other end of that golden rope was in danger. you couldn't leave him, you refused. every fiber of your being rebuked the thought. you peered down at his writhing form, his face pinched in pain. he was still the most beautiful male you'd ever seen.

you let out a gutteral noise of distress. you wasted so much time - so much time resenting azriel. fighting with him. throwing jabs at him. hating the gods, the cauldron, for linking the two of you. for what?

all that time wasted, and now his mind was no longer his. you would never get to express your love for the male before you - never get to experience the love that the both of you so immensely deserved.

"azriel," you choked out, pressing your shaking hands to every part of his body you could possibly touch. you glanced up, surveying your surroundings quickly. that's when you saw him, the daemati.

he'd kept his distance, but you made out the shape of his dark form within the trees. you couldn't even see his face, but you could clearly see the way his head tilted to the right, unnaturally slow. he was using his powers to fully infiltrate azriel's mind.

but your mate was putting up a fight. your strong, powerful mate.

azriel was doing everything within his power to not succumb to the daemati's will, his body feeling like it was going to split in half. the pain, the unrelenting, bone crushing pain, was enough to make him wish he could somehow force himself completely unconscious.

and still, through it all, he could not tear his thoughts away from you. a dangerous game, as he was dealing with a species of fae that was literally able to break into the walls of his mind, utilizing his deepest fears against him.

and right now, his biggest fear was losing you. hurting you.

he roared out, blue siphons blazing, vibrating against his skin.

one singular mantra stamped itself through his mind as he attempted to fight off the daemati clawing at his iron-clad wards long enough to convince you to flee, to leave him there to suffer alone - just as he always had:

my mate, fight for your mate, keep her safe, fight for your mate, keep her safe, my mate

you froze, mesmerized by the form that was tearing azriel's mind apart chamber-by-chamber.

then, it happened, and it happened quickly: azriel, now fully under its control, lunged toward you. he tackled you backwards, into the dirt and leaves beneath the both of you.

you screamed, bracing your hands against his chest. you dared to look into his hazel eyes, orbs that were no longer his own.

what you saw terrified you. pupils blown wide.

death himself.

a large, scarred hand found its way to your throat, and you thrashed wildly beneath him. he was unphased by the fight you tried to give him - he was too strong, and you were too scared.

rhys, rhys please, you chanted into your mind, hoping somehow he'd be able to hear you. it was a long shot - you knew that. you'd never once communicated with rhys mind-to-mind, but it was your only chance.

you were going to die at the hands of your mate. and it all felt so ironic, since azriel hated you anyway.

rhys, please, your pleads grew frantic, and azriel's hand gripped tighter around your neck.

the edges of your vision began to go dark, and you grabbed azriel's chin, peering into his eyes with all of the strength that you could muster. "azriel. it's me. it's y/n - it's your mate. please, az. i'm so sorry for everything," you strained against his grip, throat tightening. you wouldn't be conscious for much longer. if there was any chance that he - the real him - could hear you, you had to try to get through.

"i'm so, so sorry, az," you spluttered out, eyes growing heavy.

you sent one more plead to rhys through your mind before everything went dark.

your eyes fluttered open slowly, a groan leaving your throat before you were even fully awake. your neck ached, the skin there burned. your whole body felt tense, tight, and stiff.

you blinked, eyes heavy, trying to take in your surroundings. you recognized the ceiling above you, knew that the soft sheets pulled up to your chin were the ones adorning your bed at the house of wind.

you were home. you were alive.

the events with azriel, the forest - the daemati - came rushing back at full-speed, leaving you breathless. you tried to sit up, but your entire body screamed with the sudden movement.

fuck.

"there she is," you heard a familiar silk-coated voice. rhys. you glanced over towards the sound, and found the high lord perched in an armchair next to your bed.

"rhys," you spoke hoarsely. he stood then, approaching your side with feline grace.

he smiled down at you, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

"quite a fan of the dramatics, aren't you, y/n," he teased soothingly, taking a seat on the side of your mattress gently. "you had all of us frightened half to death," he added, surveying your face as he took note of your current state.

you groaned quietly, raising a hand to feel at your throat. it was obviously bruised - you didn't need to see it to know that.

"azriel," you whispered hoarsely, shaking your head to yourself. you were safe, so surely azriel must be too ... right? the thought of anything otherwise had your stomach lurching. you felt for the bond, felt for azriel's presence, and were met with emptiness - just like you had been until the daemati attacked.

"azriel is just fine, y/n," rhys spoke gently, a knowing tone in his voice. "i heard you, that day in the forest. i arrived just in time. it took a few days, but...," he trailed off, moving a strand of hair from your face, "but i was able to completely heal az from the damage the daemati caused," he finished, letting out an exhale.

you felt tears springing to your eyes immediately, unable to control your reaction to the news. "i'm so sorry, rhys," you choked out, a shaky breath escaping through your nose.

"now, now," he soothed, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. "none of that, none of that at all," he continued, eyes softening as he met your broken gaze.

"you did nothing wrong, y/n. you stayed at the side of your mate, even in the face of lethal danger. you summoned me," he paused for a moment, watching you.

"you didn't allow him to experience that alone. and while you staying there may not have been the ... most wisest ... thing to do," rhys teased, referencing your last conversation amongst the two males, "i still commend you. i, myself, have not made the smartest decisions where feyre's safety is concerned," he wiped another tear threatening to cascade onto your sheets.

you let out a watery laugh at his teasing, shaking your head.

"he hates me, rhys," you whispered, eyes finding the ceiling once more.

rhys let out a dry chuckle at your statement, sighing to himself.

"on the contrary, y/n, i think you'll find that az feels the complete opposite," he whispered, voice lilting.

you met his gaze, eyes narrowing.

just then, there was a gentle knock on your bedroom door. one that was made with the intention to not disturb your sleeping, healing form.

the door opened, and azriel crept in, wings pulled together against his back in order to avoid jostling any of your shelved belongings. he was trying to be as silent as possible, not yet aware that you were awake.

"i brought a glass of water, rhys, just in case she wak-," his words caught in his throat once his eyes made their way to yours. your opened, very awake, eyes.

"i have some very important paperwork to attend to," rhys spoke. "numbers to run, high lord duties - things of that nature," he grinned slyly, removing himself from your beside and strutting towards the door. he turned back towards you before leaving, bowing his head once. "i'm glad that you're okay, y/n. please let me know if you need anything," he said gently, before making his exit.

azriel still stood off to the side, frozen. his eyes were fused to the bruise that spanned your throat - a bruise that was in the shape of his own hand.

"hi," you whispered hoarsely, clearing your throat.

"i'm so....- i am so fucking sorry, y/n," azriel whispered, stunned. his grip tightened around the glass of water in his hand, and you were momentarily concerned that it may splinter under the pressure.

"az," you began to speak, scooting your body up against the row of pillows propped behind you. "we both know that none of this is your fault. you fought it, i saw-," you pleaded, eyebrows cinched.

"no," he cut you off, voice stern, but quiet.

"no," he repeated, stepping towards you. "i should have never allowed rhysand to send you out on a mission this dangerous. there is no excuse. i could have killed...", he trailed off, approaching you almost hesitantly, as if he were scared to get too close. "i could have killed you," he finished, voice strained and full of regret.

you shook your head, reaching for him now, and he approached you. a moth to a flame. he set the glass of water down and allowed you to take his hand. the same one that was wrapped around your neck just days ago.

"this hand, a hand that i find so beautiful, this hand that belongs to you - my mate - would have never done this to me. and i know that," you whispered, tearing up once more.

he dropped his head, wings drooping - the very tips touching the floor.

he squeezed your hand once, sitting on your bedside dejectedly.

"i heard you," he whispered after a short pause. "i heard you begging me to stop. i just couldn't -,"

"i know," you cut him off, not wanting him to spiral into a pit of despair that would engulf him entirely.

his shadows began to lazily twirl around him, a few breaking away from his body in favor of worrying over you instead.

he loosed a deep breath, staring at the floor for awhile. you allowed him to ponder, think through all of the horrible events of the last few days. as awful as your attack was, you couldn't begin to imagine the toll it took on azriel. his mind was infiltrated, ripped apart, and his body was no longer his. you could not even fathom it.

"the daemati made me attack you because he knew we were mates. he sensed the bond. and ...-," he trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief, "he knew how important your safety was to me. he got into my head, and into my thoughts. he saw how important you are," he whispered, finding your eyes.

your eyes shut, a tear escaping from the corners. he reached out a hand, a sure hand.

he wouldn't allow another moment to pass where he wanted to touch you, but held himself back.

you felt him wipe the tears away, his touch so gentle, it made your chest ache.

"i am sorry, you know," you whispered, sniffling. "i'm sorry for all the shit i've given you. i truly never resented the mating bond as much as i let on. it was just-...", you shook your head, eyes fluttering open once more to find his honeyed gaze. "it was a defense mechanism, because i knew you didn't want the bond, didn't want me, and i didn't want to look stupid - pining after a male that was ashamed of me," you rushed out, cheeks tinting pink at the confession.

his brows furrowed, and he huffed out a breath as he shook his head slowly, "y/n," he started, letting out this dry ghost of a laugh - although it lacked any humor. "no, that's not it at all. i was ... elated, to learn that you were my mate. but i thought that you wouldn't want me. after all this time, i'd come to terms with the fact that i would never ... never find my mate. our paths wouldn't cross, or i'd somehow get myself killed before i could find her," he paused for a moment, shaking his head. "but, no. i was ecstatic. especially because it was you. so full of fire and strength. beautiful - agonizingly so. your excitement for life radiates from your very core. i was, and still am, so proud to have been paired with you. i couldn't have chosen anyone better," he admitted, his eyes soft and full of adoration.

you were absolutely crying now, and your grip on his hand tightened as you let out a soft sob.

"we're such idiots," you croaked out, a hand coming up to cover your eyes.

he let out a soft laugh then, his own eyes becoming watery.

"perfect for each other. two idiot mates," he offered, a real, true smile spreading across his dimpled cheeks.

you laughed along with him, bringing his scarred knuckles up to your lips to nuzzle along them softly. the action made azriel still for a moment, and you felt an overwhelming wave of full, adoring emotions and bright, fizzling warmth hurdle directly into your chest. his emotions. he'd opened his side of the bond once more, but this time, for a very different reason. your wide eyes found his, and you returned the sentiment. you sent every ounce of love, unbridled and true, right into his chest. his breathing became ragged, his bottom lip quivering at the feeling. he was so loved, and gods, so were you.

you tugged on that golden string that was directly connected to the pit of his chest, tied right around his heart. he leaned towards you on instinct, and he knew at that moment that he would follow wherever you led him.

"my mate," he whispered, reaching down to press a soft kiss to the tip of your nose.

you tilted your head up slightly, your full lips finding his own.

"finally," you whispered against his mouth, pressing a chaste kiss to his waiting lips.

a/n: well, this one took 3 hours and cracked me in half along the way. if you made it this far, pls lmk what you thought! thanks for reading <3

[feral4daryl]

need a part 2 of sweet scent with pervy daryl trying to explain it to you but you couldn't get it cuz you'd never done anything like it so he says he's gonna show you how good it feels and has to muffle your screams so no one in the house hears you as his cock practically splits your tiny cunt in half and he uses his thumb to rub ur clit to try and make u relax.........

I'm crazy but I'm free

masterlist and other infos || MDNI

sweet scent pt2.

perv!daryl x innocent!fem!reader

summary: after getting caught sniffing your panties by you, daryl persuades you into giving your precious virginity away to him while your dad's just in the next room.

warnings: EXTREME AGE GAP (daryl's is in late 30s/early 40s and reader is 18 [or older, it's up to you]), 18+ smut, praising, dubcon? (reader lacks enthusiastic consent at first and daryl has to do some convincing), panty gagging, p-in-v, blowjobs, cunnilingus, masturbation, manipulation, petnames, daddy kink, orgasm denial, mentions of dumbification, mentions of degradation.

word count: 6.2k

a/n: the following content contains some extreme fetishes and kinks that some readers might find disturbing, so if you're not comfortable with any of those, please do not proceed. click here to read part 1.

<previous chapter>

[...] His movements got slower until they stopped and he let go of his now sensitive cock. He sighed after catching his breath. he was left with that afterglow and the feeling that he made a huge mistake. suddenly, he felt dirty like before. He opened his eyes slowly, removing your panties from his face and putting them in his pockets. yeah, he knew it was wrong, but he was still planning to keep them for later.

Then, when he averted his gaze to the mirror on his side, he saw...

You. Standing on the doorframe with a shocked look on your face.

"U-uncle Daryl?"

---

Shit.

You definitely weren't what Daryl expected to see when he opened his eyes, the remains of his freshly busted nut all over his hand and his cock out, fully on display. For a good 5 seconds, he just freezed, completely unsure of what to do. But then, it hit him. He freaked out.

His eyes got as big as they possibly could and he immediately pulled his cock in his pants back again, clumsily trying to regain his composure, taking a little longer than usual due to his nervousness. Meanwhile, you just stood there with an unreadable expression. You didn't look exactly shocked, or angry, or anything like it. You looked strangely curious, with your head slightly tilted to the side.

Daryl shook his hand to get rid of some of his essence that was still sticking to it and then rubbed it on the side of his pants, on the hip area. Still not capable of looking you in the eyes, he quickly glanced at your frame and finally broke the awkward silence.

“Y/N? W-What'r'ya doin' here?” Stuttering was very unusual for Daryl, considering that although he was a man of very few words, he was always very direct and precise with them. Maybe playing it cool as if you hadn't just caught him in the act was the way out of that unpleasant situation.

“Well...” You let out a small chuckle and took a step closer to him. “This is my room.” His awkward smile immediately faded away.

“Oh, uh... I was jus’...” He looked around the room, searching for anything to use as an excuse for being there. But before he could start, you interrupted him.

“I didn't leave with the others, daddy told me to stay here to take care of you. He's in his room.” Your sweet girly voice had a way of calming Daryl, making him a bit more relaxed despite the current scenario and the shame he was feeling. But at the same time, just hearing you enunciate that one little word 'daddy' had him taking a deep breath to control his urges and not have another erection right there and then. You said that so innocently, because, well, it was in fact innocent since you referred to your actual father Hershel, but still, Daryl's twisted mind made it sound suggestive in his head.

“Take care'a me?” He pondered. Daryl wondered why your reaction was so calm considering what you had just witnessed. Maybe you didn't see much.

“You know, somebody's gotta change your bandage.” You smiled and pointed to his head that still had the bandage around it. “Actually, can you step to the side a bit? So I can...” You gestured to the dressing table behind him. He didn't say anything and just did as you said, moving to the side a little so you could approach the piece of furniture. In that moment, Daryl was the definition of what they call a standoffish.

“I was expecting to find you in your bed, resting. As you should, uncle Daryl.” Your voice carried a hint of playfulness along with a sincere worry. But the way you called him uncle for the second time that day gave him mixed sensations. He wasn't sure if he was aroused or weirded out by it. Or both.

You extended your hand, meaning to pull the drawer open to collect the items needed to change his bandage, which included the gauze, antiseptic wipes, medical tapes, sterile dressing and other kinds of medical stuff your dad had taught you how to handle, but you had to stop your hand midway when you noticed a white slimy thing dripping down the furnishing.

He followed your eyes, noticing how stared at the liquid. The farmer's sweet young daughter had just noticed the results of Daryl's arousal while it coated the dressing table. His mind started rushing with apprehension, you could tell your dad and everyone else how much of a perverted old man Daryl actually was, and he could be kicked out of the group, being left alone in the woods to fend for himself. It's not that he wasn't capable to make it on his own, but his family was important to him, he didn't wanna lose them over that type of thing that could change the way they looked at him forever.

“What's this?” You bended your knees a little, leaning forward and squinting your eyes to take a better look at the unknown substance. Now, you had completely forgotten the reason why you came into that room that was changing his bandage. Daryl lifted one of his eyebrows out of confusion. Did you really not know what that was? If that was the case, it kind of made sense.

Of course. Living on a farm far from the city, you had a close-knit relationship with your family in a way that they were pretty much all the people you would interact with. You had never had boyfriends, or kissed, or anything remotely romantic like that due to your dad's overprotectiveness, after all, you were his youngest daughter. All you knew about the existence of sexual stuff had been taught by him, when he mainly warned you about the terrible consequences of that type of action and that you had to stay innocent.

You didn't really know what he meant by all that, since he was very vague in his descriptions about sex. Hershel just used to say that there were certain areas on your body that you should never let a boy get near and you knew better than to disobey your father's orders, being aware that he always knew what was best for you. Not even your own hands had ever darted down your body to meet those spots more than once or twice before quickly pulling away. You wanted to remain innocent, whatever that meant.

But Daryl was the observant type, and he quickly caught up that you knew nothing about that type of thing. He knew you had always lived in that farm, away from the perverted hands of boys your age (or older like him) so connecting the dots wasn't tricky at all.

Oh, the things he could show you. That thought alone brought a somewhat creepy smirk to Daryl's face as he stared into the wall, contemplating the opportunity he had in hands to finally have his way with you. He knew he still had to be careful though.

“Daryl?” Your voice snapped him out of his trance. You turned your head to look at him before turning your entire body to face him. Your gaze was curious.

“This?” He motioned with his chin towards the dripping substance on the piece of furniture, looking out of place. “Ya don'... know wha' it is?” He double checked, wanting to make sure you were actually unfamiliar erotic nature of what you saw him doing.

“Well, I saw where it came from.” You revealed, not sounding accusing at all, just simply stating a fact.

“...How long 've ya been watchin' me?” He asked with an almost audible gulp. Though he was considerably excited about teaching you all that new stuff, he was still unsure if he should or not. It'd been so long since his last sexual interaction with someone else that he could barely remember it. And doing it with the daughter of the man that gave him a roof to put over his head in times like these? That was risky.

“A while.” You stated. Now, Daryl could notice how you started staring at his crotch area with a renewed sense of interest. That meant you had definitely seen his dick despite his efforts to hide it when he first got caught just moments ago. He wondered if you knew what it was or its purpose.

You stepped even closer to him and he couldn't help but step back slightly. “I've never seen somebody pee like that. Are you... Sick?” You raise an eyebrow. “The bathroom's just in the next room, you know...” Your worried tone was awfully adorable to Daryl. And well, he was indeed sick, but not in the way you meant it. Nonetheless, the amusing way you mistook his semen for urine made him share a light chuckle.

“Nah, tha's... Tha's not piss.” He bluntly let out. You walked across your room and over to your bed, sitting on its edge. Daryl followed you until he was standing in front of you. He crossed his arms.

“How so?” You tilted your head to the side with a sincere curiosity displayed on your face. You had seen the way he rubbed that one thing of his that you weren't sure how it worked until that slimy liquid started oozing out of it, deeply stimulating your curiosity.

“Ya sure ya wanna know?” His tone sounded more dark and his voice turned hoarser, however, that didn't seem to faze you. You nodded frantically. “Aigh', i'll show ya.” Once again, a smirk creeped onto his face. Your eyes were all sparkly as you attentively listened to him. “Sometimes people touch themselves ta feel good, ya know?” You shrugged, not really sure of what he was talking about.

As he spoke, he took light and slow steps towards you, like a predator preparing to hunt its prey, until his knees was almost touching yours. “Ya ever touched yerself, darlin'?” Despite the raspiness in his voice, it was now rather calm, with a surge of some sweetness to it.

“Like how?” You asked.

“Like here...” He extended his hand with a gentle movement, his finger tracing a path from the valley between your breasts down to your bellybutton. The slightly ticklish sensation made you flinch a little. Then, his finger continued making its way down to your lower belly, stopping inches above your clothed pussy. “'N here...”

Your breath hissed, and you started remembering how your dad told you those parts were sacred and shouldn't be touched by anyone, no matter who. The uncertainty was obvious in your face as you discreetly pushed his hand away. “Uncle Daryl...”

“Ya can call me jus' Daryl, sweetheart. 'M yer friend, remember?” He tried his best to sound convincing.

“Yes, Daryl...” You corrected yourself with an awkward chuckle. “I... I think I shouldn't.” You avert your gaze from his.

“Why not? Dontcha wanna know wha' it's like?” He leaned in a little closer, resting his hands on your thighs. You made a motion to try to push him away again, but he insisted on his touch. “Don' be scared, doll. 'M not gunna hurt ya. Quite the opposite.” He smirked while practically whispering the last part, making sure to sound extra coaxing.

You weren't really sure what you were afraid of, exactly. You just knew that you wanted to make your father happy and proud of you, since he'd always been so caring towards you and your family. In the end, you just wanted daddy's approval.

“I'm... I'm not sure. I don't know, it doesn't feel right.” You confessed, your voice filled with worry. Daryl knew how to be intimidating when he wanted to.

“'S okay, doll.” He spoke the way one would speak to a puppy. And giving you no time to protest, he used one of his hands to tug at the hem of your white tank top and pulled it up in one go, revealing your bare tits to him. He bit his lips, noticing you weren't wearing a bra. As quick as he did so, you felt so ashamed of your sudden nudity that you lifted your arms up to try to cover yourself up from his hungry eyes. “D-Daryl...”

“Shhhh...” He shushed you against your ear, making shivers run down your spine. Although you were uncertain, the way he spoke to you made certain parts of your body warm up, an unusual sensation for you. “Ya got such pretty tits... Ya shouldn't hide 'em away from me.” As he said that, he gently grabbed one of your breasts, giving it the slightest squeeze not to startle you. You couldn't help but let out a small squeak at the unfamiliar sensation. Weirdly enough, it felt good in a way you had never felt before.

“Ya like tha'?” He whispered. “It's nice, but... Daddy wouldn't like that. I just wanna make daddy happy.” You just wanted to be a good girl. Perhaps, you could find a different way of doing that.

“Yeah?” He muttered practically to himself as he got an idea. “Well, I can be yer daddy for today. Like tha', ya could make yer daddy happy in a way. Yer jus' gotta lemme lead ya, aigh'?” He didn't feel guilty in the slightest for making you engage in one of his twisted fetishes while you were barely aware of it.

“H-huh?" You were uncertain about the reason behind his suggestion.

“Ya can pretend 'm yer daddy.” He continued playing her mind. You weren't really sure if you liked the idea to depict him as your old man, but you tried to convince yourself to play along.

“But... What will he think of me when he finds out?” You fidgeted with your fingers. Meanwhile his grip on your breast continued to intimidate you.

“He don' have ta know. C'mon, dontcha wanna make daddy happy?” He conveyed in a hush against your ear, his thumb now grazing your sensitive nipple, making you feel that one funny sensation again. You couldn't help but lean into his touch.

You closed your eyes, darting your tongue out to lick your lips. The nervousness in you due to the newness of it all made your lips dry. The way Daryl was making you feel was curious, and you just wanted more of it. He took your silence as a confirmation.

“Good girl.” He cooed before capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, very gently sucking on it. The feeling made you arch your back instantly.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

You just wanted to be a good girl. And if following Daryl's lead was a way to do it, you were all in for it. Your senses awakened as a cascade of unfamiliar yet electrifying sensations coursed through you, a dance of pleasure that tingled on your skin. In that moment, a subtle warmth enveloped you, as if you had discovered a secret realm of bliss previously unknown.

You reached for his head, the feeling of your delicate fingernails scratching against his scalp and pulling him closer sent tingling sensations all over his body. Instinctively, you slightly opened your legs at the pleasure and that drew a smirk onto Daryl's face.

“Eager fer daddy, huh?” The way he referred to himself like that made a faint blush spread across your cheeks, although you couldn't wrap your head around the reason why. It felt so wrong but so right at the same time.

“I need ya to trust me, 'kay?” He said as he pulled your shorts down and then tossed them aside, revealing your white cotton panties. Once again, you felt to urge to hide, not knowing how to deal with someone else seeing you naked for the first time. But before your legs could involuntarily close, his big hands groped your thighs, keeping them spread apart. “'S okay, sunshine.” He practically manhandled you, gently but firmly pushing your body downward so you rested you back on the mattress.

The new position made you feel strangely vulnerable, but it wasn't exactly a bad feeling. Your doe eyes had a mix of unsureness and curiosity as they meet his. Sensing the mixed sensations within you, Daryl leaned in to place a small peck on your plush lips, aiming to make you more comfortable. The feeling of his rough lips against your soft ones so suddenly almost made you flinch, but they felt rather inviting. As he pulled back, a confident smirk could be seen displayed on his face.

The archer's rugged fingers traveled their way down your body once again until they found the soft fabric of your panties, making your breath hiss. He brushed his index and middle fingers against your clothed pussy lips. Just with that, the dampness was so obvious that a small wet spot could be seen on the cotton fabric right where your slit would be. He dragged his fingers across it until they reached your clit.

“This lil spot righ' here...” He kept his hand there. “...is magical." For now, he just added a small pressure, testing the waters and watching close to your reaction, but that was enough to draw a whimper from you, the unknown sensation making you grasp his forearm. It indeed felt magical. You bit your lips and though you couldn't see it, Daryl shared a satisfied smile at the way he was able to get you all hot and bothered with just a simple touch.

Your legs squirmed a bit and he took that as a good sign, so he continued. Now, he started slowly rubbing your clit in circular motions over the fabric of your panties. Your back arched again, and you accidentally let out a dangerously loud moan.

“Nuh-uh.” He brought his other index finger to his lips, gesturing for you to be quiet. “Ya gotta be quiet, ya hear me?” His tone was mostly reprimanding, which strangely excited you. You nodded, enjoying the authority he guided you with through those new sensations. You had touched yourself there before, but never like that. The sensation always felt somewhat wrong, but with Daryl, it was totally different.

You were still kind of upset at yourself for disobeying your dad, but the way Daryl worked his fingers so skillfully had you seeing stars. You never thought you'd be handing out your innocence for some old redneck you met just a while ago, but there you were, completely given to him.

In the beginning, Daryl used to always kind of avoid you, despite your attempts of trying to get to know at least a little bit about the mysterious archer. He knew that deep down, those desires towards you were always there, since the very first time he saw you. At first, he tried to brush them off, but now, all he wanted was to be the one to feel your tight virgin cunt for the first time.

In a swift motion, his big hands tugged at the hem of your underwear. “Up.” He ordered, gesturing for you to lift your hips so he could pull them down. You didn't argue at all and promptly did as he said, reveling in the control he had over you. It was like he dominated your weak mind. “Good girl.” He cooed once again. Oh, if only he knew what that did to your little inexperienced pussy.

After tossing the piece of fabric aside, he reached for you knees, gently spreading them apart. The sight of your glistening bare cunt had his mind rushing through all the things he could do to it. He wondered if he would be able to hold himself back and be gentle or if he would end up losing control. After all, he hadn't done anything like that in such a long time that his whole body was aching for it. He stared at it in an almost scary way, you'd never seen his eyes so hungry.

If his cock hadn't awaken until that moment, now it was hard as a fucking rock. He had to really fight the urges to pull it out his pants and dick you down right there and then, but he knew he had to take it easy on you at least for now and get you nice and ready for him, even though you were already visibly dripping wet.

“Is this all fer me?” His tone was almost mocking. You weren't sure what he meant by that, not fully understanding the concept of natural lubrication, but you just nodded with your eyes closed. Something about being in that position felt so right, so freeing that it had you wondering why you never did that before, and why you were so afraid of trying it in the first place.

Daryl's hands sensually traced their way down your body, exploring your every contour until they reached the back of your thighs, pushing them back until your wet cunt was all over his face. He tried his best to control himself, but his own arousal was practically taking over his mind, so he buried his face on it like a starving man. As soon as his wet tongue made contact with your sensitive little clit and he lapped at your abundant juices, you immediately gasped, gaining a look of disapproval from Daryl.

“I warned ya.” That was all he mumbled before taking your panties he had just took off you and sticking them into your mouth almost aggressively. You could taste yourself on the white fabric, and although it felt strange, it turned you on even more. Now, your little sounds were muffled by the piece of clothing as he resumed eating you out, flicking his tongue on hour clit and burying it between your folds. You never thought a feeling like that could actually exist as you experienced that overwhelming rush of pleasure, a novel sensation coursing through you sending shivers down your spine as a delightful warmth enveloped your entire being. You tried your best to hold back your sounds since your dad was home and could hear you if you slipped, but Daryl's skilled tongue and lips made it an extremely difficult task, even with your panties stuck in your mouth.

He continued working your clit with his mouth, and maybe a little sooner than it should, a tingling sensation forming in your lower belly caught your attention. Daryl noticed the obvious shift in your demeanor and took the panties out of your mouth so you could speak. “D-daddy...” You experimented the honorific he had previously suggested. “I-I feel funny.” You whimpered, squirming a bit harder than before as it started feeling as if you were gonna burst at any moment. Daryl smirked against your skin and gave your pussy a last peck before pulling away, making you whine in disapproval. It had only been seconds but you immediately missed the sensation. You craved it.

“Not yet, sweetheart.” He said. Not yet what, you wondered. But you still wanted to be good for him, so you nodded as the good girl you were. You couldn't think of anything you wouldn't do for him in that moment, considering how desperate you were to feel that pleasure again.

Your curious eyes followed his hands as they reached to unbuckled his own belt, setting it aside. He undid his pants and pulled them down just enough to reveal his boxer briefs to you. There. There was the place where you saw that sticky white thing shooting out from. Now, the excitement in you was unbearable as you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch his movements closely. Your eyes visibly lighted up and that didn't go unnoticed by Daryl.

“Yer gunna love this, lil' girl.” He bit his lips. Something was very obviously bulging in his boxers, which you found odd since it didn't seem to look so obvious when it was in his pants even though now it looked so big. Either way, you were completely drawn to it. You glued your eyes to his crotch while he pulled his underwear down.

You had heard about it, but you had never actually seen one of those before. In the aftermath of the apocalypse, his pubic hair had grown wild and untamed, a reflection of the makeshift survival and the absence of the once routine grooming practices. Not that he used to care a lot about that kind of thing before the outbreak. In a way, you thought it looked charming, suiting his rugged looks and personality.

You could feel your mouth starting to water at the sight of his cock standing tall and proud in front of you. Since the archer had touched his mouth to your cunt, you wondered if you could do the same to him in that same area on his body. As if he could smell your thoughts, he brought a hand to your head, gently pulling you closer to his crotch while he held it by the base.

“Ya wanna have a taste?” He slyly suggested and chuckled at your frantic nodding. Leaning closer to it, you felt the musky and raw scent that emanated from it, which made you even more drawn to the possibilities that ran through your mind. But at the same time, you didn't know what to do or how to handle it.

Bringing his hand to his mouth, he collected some saliva from it and rubbed the wetness on the tip of his cock to lubricate it. “Gimme yer hand.” He reached out his hand, and instantly you complied, allowing him to direct it towards his cock. He enveloped your hand around it, keeping his atop yours, slowly starting to move it up and down. It felt warm and hard against your soft fingers, and the way he threw his head back and quietly groaned made your stomach churn with butterflies. “Fuck baby, tha' feels good.” He had to whisper due to the dangerous presence of your dad in the house threatening to put your little playtime to an end.

You smiled proudly at yourself. You liked the way he sounded and you wished to draw more of those grunts from his lips. And Daryl, being just as eager as you, removed your hand from his length, holding it by the base. His other hand found its way to the back of your head, his touch almost feeling impatient as he pulled you closer to his cock. “Open yer mouth.” He didn't have to tell you twice. Therefore, he guided his swollen tip to your awaiting tongue, smearing his salty pre-cum all over it. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best to hold back any compromising sounds.

Your lips instinctively closed around his tip, trying to mimic the way he sucked on your clit, aiming to make him feel as good as he previously did to you. The act not only gave him pleasure, but it also brought you a deep sense of satisfaction, making you hum against his sensitive skin. The vibrations from your vocal chords sent a chill through his body and he couldn't hold back this time, the warm sensation of your mouth being so tempting and promising that he pushed his hips forward a bit too much, causing it to hit the back of your throat and you to gag on it.

He immediately retracted his body, removing his cock from the velvety confines of your mouth. Your eyes got a little watery but you smiled either way. “Sorry, princess.” He said with a hint of awkwardness in his voice.

“It's fine, I liked it.” You confess, looking up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, sitting at the edge of the bed while he stood in front of you. Your innocent expression contrasting with the dirty nature of your encounter made him impossibly hornier, and he didn't feel like waiting any longer. “Fuck” He almost whined. Eagerness to feel you wrapping around him filled his body, so he grabbed you by the arms, not too rough so he wouldn't hurt you, and put on your feet against the pink wall of your room.

He brought a hand to your head, pressing it against the wall. You gasped a little at his roughness but soon you felt him brushing the tip of his cock on your slicky slit and clit. “'S gunna feel good, I promise.” He mumbled against your ear, making your body hair stand on end. The sensation had you biting your lips to try and not make any sounds, but your efforts were proven useless as you felt the pressure of his tip carefully going in your cunt, causing a burning sensation and you accidentally let out a loud cry.

Daryl's hand went immediately to your mouth, forcefully pressing his palm against your lips to muffle your sounds, your dad shouldn't hear Daryl using his sweet daughter in his own home after all. “Shhh, shhh.” He shushed you, resting his chin on the top of your head for a moment. You wrapped around him so tight even though he only had his tip in yet that he couldn't restrain himself from pushing his hips forward a little more, intensifying the burning sensation while he stretched your virgin cunt out.

“'S okay, ya can take it.” In that moment, you were confused at why he was making you feel so good just a moment ago, and now he's ripping your little pussy apart. But even though it hurt, it was somewhat pleasant to feel so full in such a new way, so you stuck your ass towards him, inviting him in. While still keeping his hand pressed on your mouth, he brought his other one to your hips, gripping them a little too tight.

Without warnings, he buried his entire length in you in one swift motion, filling you up to the brim and worsening the burning to a whole new level. The only thing that kept you from letting out a scream at the sudden invasion was his hand muffling your pathetic sounds and the fact that you'd be in deep trouble if your dad found out about that, but even so, Daryl couldn't help but quietly grunt at the intense sensation. He didn't know he missed fucking a warm cunt so badly until he was completely inhumed inside you. “Good girl. Yer being so good fer daddy.” He praised you. His words had an immediate effect on you, making your pussy even wetter, if that was even possible.

You didn't even care if it hurt or not anymore, so you just stood there, caught in the paradox of sensation — a mix of pain and pleasure etched across your face. The twinge felt like a sweet ache, and yet, an irresistible allure pulled her deeper into the experience, as if the discomfort held a hidden charm that she couldn't resist exploring.

Despite the pain, you found herself oddly drawn to the sensation, craving more as if the discomfort carried an inexplicable appeal that kept you coming back for another taste. So you slightly wiggled your ass against Daryl's body, moving his cock a little inside you. The feeling of being stretched out had you desperate for more.

Daryl's warm breath hit your ear as he let out a light-hearted laugh at your reaction, sending delicious goosebumps all over your body. His hips started going back and forth to meet yours in a sensual dance. He tried to be gentle at first, but your virgin cunt was just so wet and warm that he couldn't help it but succumb to his primal desires. “Jus' like tha', princess. Take this fat cock.” He whispered loud enough so only you could hear, making you weak in the knees.

His calloused hand let go of your hips to find your clit, starting to rub it with just the right pressure to make you squirm under his touch. The mixed sensations of intense pleasure and pain confusing your brain, making you melt like putty in his hands. Overwhelming waves of pleasure surged through you, leaving your head blissfully empty as if every thought had been swept away by the sheer intensity of the sensation, which was exactly what Daryl wanted, to turn you into a brainless little fucktoy for him.

If a few months ago somebody told you that you'd be letting some perverted older man take advantage of you in your own room, you would've laughed right in their face. Giving your innocence away to anybody used to feel like such a distant reality, and now there you were, pressed against the wall by Daryl's sweaty body while he mercilessly pounded your no longer virgin cunt, making you experience the most pleasurable pain you could ever feel.

As he continued bucking his hips like a desperate animal, you drooled against his hand, your brain now reduced to putty due to the overpowering sensation that dominated your every sense. “Nngh...” Your muffled moans stirred an even deeper desire within Daryl, turning him as primal as one could be. Your body language made it obvious that you were close to your orgasm, and this time, he didn't plan to deny you of it.

But you had never experienced something like that. You didn't know pleasure could get so extreme that could made you burst, so as the sensation built and grew stronger, it also made you unsure about where it was taking you, and you tried to fight the feeling. Daryl's skilled fingers working your clit only threw you even closer to the edge and you felt like your legs could fail at any moment.

Noticing the shift in your demeanor, he muttered against your ear. “Jus' let it go, baby. Trust me, don' hold it.” His tone was strangely sweet considering what you were both up to, but his encouraging words relaxed you a little, and as he intensified the rubbing on your clit, you knew you wouldn't be able to hold it in not even if you wanted to, whatever it was.

Then, it hit you. An entirely unfamiliar and intense sensation washed over you, catching you off guard. It felt like uncharted emotional and physical territory, leaving you completely stunned, wide-eyed, and grappling with the unexpected intensity of the experience, something that almost made you mad at your dad from convincing you of staying away from it for so long.

Daryl had to intensify the pressure of his hand against your lips, but even so, he wasn't able to muffle your cries completely as your body convulsed and you were sure you lost consciousness for a few seconds. “Good girl, cum for me.” You didn't know what that word meant, but considering the situation, you understood that it probably had something to do with the new type of pleasure you just experienced.

As the orgasmic sensation slowly faded away, it was replaced with an even more overwhelming feeling of overstimulation. You squirmed even harder and you swore you could cry if he continued using your cunt like that, not giving you any breaks to catch your breath. You'd been turned into a whimpering and drooling mess, a total slut for his cock. You wanted him to have his way with you and you knew that if he wanted to, you'd let him fuck you all day without arguing.

The intense clenching of your tight pussy around his length initiated his own orgasm, and now it was his turn to experience the compelling feeling of being right on the edge of pleasure. “Fuck, turn 'round." He desperately voiced, but he didn't even waited for you before decisively grasping your shoulders, swiftly turning you to face him. As he did so, he removed his cock from inside you and stroked it hard and fast for a few seconds with just enough pressure to make himself burst.

Your mesmerized eyes watched as the pleasure took over his body. And now, it all made sense as he started shooting his load aiming right on your bare pussy, just as he was doing earlier today when you first caught him in your room. The warm sticky substance coated your cunt and it was so much that it felt like it would never end, leaving you astonished. You couldn't help but smile at the sight before you.

You two stared into each other's eyes while desperately trying to catch your breaths, sharing a small chuckle and satisfied smiles. He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead and now, you knew who to come up to when you feel that funny feeling in your lower belly again. You knew Daryl had what it took to take care of your needs.

Without saying anything else, he pulled his briefs and pants back up again, adjusting his clothes. Then, he reached for his pocket, pulling out those panties he had stolen earlier and putting them on you again, leaving his load smeary and sticking to your skin. “Leave it there.” He hoarsely voiced, ordering you to walk around with his cum inside your clothes while no one else knew of it except the both of you.

“And these...” He walked over to your bed and bended his knees a little so he could reach for the white cotton panties he had tossed aside right before railing you and put them in his pocket.

“...'M gunna keep these fer later.”

a/n: omg guys the first part of sweet scent got over 1.1k notes and that's like??? insane??? tysm for all ur support, that's crazy. it was so much fun to write both parts and i'm so thankful if you read it this far!! i hope y'all have a great and happy holidays xx

taglist: @imagininghim , @murdadixon , @epilepsywarrior8787 , @darklydixon

[agustdtown1]

FREE USE | JJK (hcs)

PAIRING: roommate!jungkook x roommate!fem!reader.

SUMMARY: headcanons of what it’d be like to let jungkook use you as much as he pleased.

WC: 1.2k

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol consumption, free use dynamics, friends/roommates with benefits, unprotected sex, masturbation, mentions of oral sex (male receiving), fucking while doing mundane things, reader and jungkook are very laid back in this one. Grammar mistakes as per usual.

A/N: idk where I was going with this, but I liked the idea so here it is, enjoy!

Masterlist

Your arrangement started as a simple roommates with benefits type of thing.

It sort of naturally happened.

After a long day of working at your nine to five job and Jungkook dealing with some unnecessary family drama, both of you were at your limit.

You two were in need of some good release.

At the time, alcohol looked like the better option. The best remedy for your miserable day; perfect to leave behind all your concerns and numb your mind for a few hours, until you wake up the next day with an unbearable headache.

Neither of you anticipated that what started as a peaceful drinking session, would end up with both of you fucking desperately to the point of almost breaking the sofa.

After Jungkook finally got a taste of you, however, it became an impossible task to keep his distance with you; despite both of you agreeing to that night being just a one-time thing, and never doing anything like that again.

And so his long nights of jacking off to the thought of you started.

Jungkook would make sure that you were peacefully sleeping before pulling his sweats down, slightly teasing himself by feeling his cock through his underwear.

It was so painfully hard and already leaking.

When his own teasing was too much to bear, Jungkook would pull down the last piece of clothing preventing him from feeling his fingers wrapped around his cock.

He’d start at a slow pace, taking his sweet time to build up his release. He knew the best way to tip himself over the edge, but it seemed like after your one night together nothing could make him cum. His avid fingers weren’t so avid on himself anymore. It didn’t give him the same sentiment that you did. His hand was significantly bigger than yours, on top of being rough and calloused due to all the weightlifting he did on the daily.

Jungkook could notice the stark contrast between you and himself.

He remembers so vividly the way your fingers wrapped around his base, squeezing lightly, before you started to pump his dick at a painfully slow pace. He didn’t mind at the time, but in the darkness and loneliness of his room, Jungkook could only beg for his hand to go faster. However, it wasn’t enough. And that’s how the mental image —the memory of your soft lips kissing his tip came to the very front of his mind. It was hard to forget it; the way your tongue wrapped around his dick, the way you swallowed all of him in one go, just to show him that he could be rougher with you, that it was okay for Jungkook to lose all his self control and fuck your throat only like he knew.

Sadly, those nights filled with the most filthy sounds and moans had to stay a secret for a few more weeks.

Before the unthinkable happened.

Truth be told, you were just as needy of Jungkook as he was of you. And maybe that’s the reason you didn’t think too much before suggesting that crazy idea to him.

“So… Friends with benefits?” His question sounded a bit unsure. “Well, should I say roommates with benefits?” You nodded, agreeing while taking a sip of your coffee. “Yeah, if that’s what you wanna call it. I don’t really care about the name, as long as we’re both on the same page and understand what all of this actually is.”

It was so pathetic how fast Jungkook wanted to agree and say yes to whatever deal you had for him, as long as that meant he could have you all the time he wanted.

And so, it became a recurrent occurrence to be found in the sheets of the one and only Jeon Jungkook whenever life became too stressful.

Surprisingly, the guy learned to read your body in a matter of a few days. His rough hands knew what path to follow; how soft or hard the touch of his fingers had to be to get the exact reaction he needed from you. His warm lips always found that perfect spot on your neck that would steal the sweetest of sounds from your mouth. And his dick would always move just the right way to make you see starts.

But no matter how much of your body you would give to Jungkook during the hardest of days, he would always crave more.

And that’s exactly how you found yourself in the current predicament you were in.

Your hands were acting clumsy due to Jungkook’s hard thrusts. The pencil placed in between your fingers was shaking so badly, and your handwriting was so illegible that not even someone with their 20-20 vision could understand what you wrote.

“Slow down a bit, it’s difficult to write while getting fucked.”

“Sorry, sweetheart.”

His pace was turned down a few notches, but it only served to feel him inside you ten times deeper.

You see, your initial arrangement got to the point of fucking at any moment, anywhere, any day. No matter what either of you were doing, if it was important or not, if you had time or were in a hurry; if your bodies were ready for it or got taken by surprise. It became normal for the both of you to use each other at any given moment.

Just like right now, you could be having a peaceful moment studying, cooking or even watching a movie and Jungkook would simply slide down whatever clothes you were wearing and slip inside, enjoying the warmth of your velvety walls.

You got so used to it that you no longer were surprised by his sudden actions. And just like you did, Jungkook also got used to your impromptu appearance in his room when he was playing video games with his friends, watching a movie, or even just listening to music.

There was one time when he was on the phone with his brother and you easily walked in his room, pulled down his pants and started to suck the life out of him. Surprisingly, Jungkook did good in suppressing his moans while speaking to his brother.

There were other times when he would be reading a manga on the couch, and without previous warning you would get on top of him and ride his cock as if it was your last wish. Even maintaining a conversation while fucking was the usual for you both.

“What are you reading?” Your airy voice rang through Jungkook’s ears, making him look up from the manga placed on his hands, before continuing reading. “Jujutsu Kaisen, the one I told you about the other day.”

“Is it the one with that Gojo guy?” Your movements got messier and faster, desperately trying to reach your high. “Is it— fuck, is it any good?”

“Mhm, it became one of my favorites.” He answered, but even if Jungkook tried to keep his voice steady you could tell he was getting there. “You should read it. I have a feeling you’d— fuck, just like that... I have a feeling you’d like it.” You nodded, not really finding your voice to answer due to your rapidly approaching orgasm. It was a matter of a few more thrusts before you were coming undone on top of him.

At any moment, any minute, any day and most importantly anywhere. That’s how it would usually go for you two.

Both of you fell into the routine so easily and neither were ready to let go of it anytime soon.

[majinbangus]

I NEED MORE FERAL 141 🙏 🙏 🙏

(when you are free and willing of course 🥺🥺)

》 18+ if you fail to keep one of them in check, another will do it for you (but the end result is still the same)

You choke on a moan, tears spilling from your waterline as another orgasm rips through you. It's violent and messy just like the man between your legs. He's got you pinned, one large hand holding down your wrist so you can't push his head away and the other leaving bruises along your hips and thighs, soft flesh already mottled with little indentations of his bite.

"G-Ghost..."

He doesn't acknowledge you like he's supposed to, getting a little mean with a nip to your swollen clit. You bite back a whine.

"Ghost... the, the others-"

They're waiting patiently for their turn. Like you trained them to be. But a glance at them tells you they're getting impatient. Ghost is going over his time. You need to get control of the beast between your legs. Decide who's next because that's your decision to make. But maybe it was a mistake to let Ghost go first.

You thought it would be fair. You always try to alternate the order, but clearly Ghost isn't in the mood to play nice today. That's on you. You knew he was a bit antsy today. Next time you'll do better.

"Ghost-"

The savage snarl he lets out reminds you to be careful of such a wild creature, but you can't do anything about it because he yanks you closer, and envelopes your aching core with his mouth. "I'm not done."

Muffling a cry, all you can do is throw your head back, squirming under your misbehaving brute.

"That's enough, Ghost."

You gasp in relief when the man is pulled off you. Your saving grace is the captain. He forces Ghost to kneel, restraining him so he can't overwhelm you anymore.

"Thank," you inhale deeply, "thank you, Price. You... You can go next."

Although, you're thinking maybe you should postpone the other three's turns until later. It doesn't seem fair, but you might not be able to handle them currently.

"Actually, I have another idea." Price tightens his grip on Ghost, a calculating glint in his eyes that Ghost returns with a glare. "If you don't mind that is."

Interest piqued, you wonder what he could want. "Sure? You deserve a little reward. What were you thinking?"

You thought maybe he would want extra time with you, or possibly something else of a similar nature, but you never expected Price to want this.

"How does she feel, lads?"

Gaz gives a lazy roll of his hips, teasing the back of your throat. "Warm, sir."

"And sloppy," Soap adds, thrusting up into your cunt with a groan. "But good. Really good, sir."

Price smirks from his place behind you, fucking into your ass while Ghost is forced to watch, tied to a chair how Price wanted him to be. "And all ours to share. Right, Ghost?"

The man stays silent, but you can see him strain against the rope that binds him to the chair. It doesn't matter to Price. He picks up his rhythm and the other two follow suit.

The pace is something fierce. Relentless. A torturous pleasure rips through you, but there's nowhere to go. You're pinned just like you were earlier.

This may be a lesson for Ghost, but you think they all need more practice in restraint.

-

a desire of mine is for price to cuck ghost✌️

[loganhowlettsmybf]

hated desire

pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader

warnings: almost smut, swearing, fighting, knives, mention of blood

summary: you hate logan howlett. especially when you can see his, sweaty and naked muscular upper body while you two are training.

word count: 500+

a/n: aghh i’m literally shaking, i hope you like it🫶🏻 also everyone here is so sweet and supportive😭 so thank y’all for encouraging me

[english isn’t my first language, so sorry if there’s any mistakes but i still hope it’s enjoyable<333]

(also my requests are open, so feel free to ask one-shots that comes to your mind or just message me anything🫶🏻)

you hated him.

you hated his arrogant attitude, his ego. just because he has a body of a god and he knew it, that doesn’t mean he has to be an ass.

but the thing you hate the most about him is how wet he makes you, when you two are training together and he doesn’t wear a shirt so you can see all his detailed muscles.

like in the exact. same. moment.

you snapped back into the reality, daydreaming is for later, right now you have to kick his ass.

“ready to lose again, howlett?” you taunted, flipping a knife effortlessly between your fingers.

logan snorted, a smirk curling his lips. “you wish, sweetheart. let’s see if you can keep up.”

you lunged at him with a swift, well-practiced strike, but logan blocked it with his claws.

"you fight like a little girl," logan smirked, feinting a strike.

"it is so much better than fighting like an old man," you shot back, while one of your knife is grazing his side, a little blood dropping out of him. but that was just for a moment, he healed immediately.

oh how much you hated his healing ability too.

“fuck,” logan grunted, more annoyed, than hurt. He spun, catching your wrist and twisting it just enough to make you drop the knives. the closeness of your bodies sent a shiver down your spine. you could feel his breath on your neck, his muscular frame pressing against you.

“is that all you got?” logan growled, his voice low and husky. he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. “i thought you were tougher than this.”

in a swift motion, you freed yourself, your knives flashing as you launched another attack while logan blocked you effortlessly.

you pushed back, using your agility to twist away, but not before grazing his side with your blade.

“did I just cut you? again? ohh, you're getting sloppy,” you say while trying to steady your racing heart.

logan’s eyes darkened. he advanced with a ferocity that matched your own. in a swift, fluid motion, logan disarmed you, pinning you against the wall with his claws dangerously close to your throat, your faces inches apart.

"you think you can keep me against the wall?" you breathed.

logan's lips curling into a dangerous smile. "i think you like it when i do," he murmured, his face so close you could feel his breath. “you think i don’t know how wet you’re everytime you see me. just like right now. and how this position with my claws, against your throat turns you on,” he whispered in your ear.

you started to panic. you didn’t know what his next action will be. the tension between you was growing, and before you could even say something he was kissing you, hard and demanding. at first you were surprised, but you responded with equal fervor, you hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed you even harder against the wall.

your kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more desperate. logan’s claws retracted, and he lifted you easily, your legs wrapping around his waist. you felt yourself melting against him. your hatred mixed with an undeniable hunger.

just as things were about to get out of control, logan pulled back, his breathing was heavy.

"this ain't the place," he growled, though his eyes were filled with the same desire that burned in you. he brushed his thumb across your swollen lips. “but don’t think even just for a minute, that this is over.”

[moonlitstoriess]

The Cost of Deception- Azriel x fem!reader (2/3)

Summary: After years of silence, Y/N and Azriel unknowingly track the same target, only to find themselves face-to-face once more. Betrayal runs deep, and neither is willing to forgive, but the mission must come first—if they don’t destroy each other first.

See masterlist

Part 1 Part 3

Warnings: not proofread, SMUT MINORS DNI (i will mention when it starts and ends), mentions of trauma, fighting, angst, mentions of SA, still kinda toxic Azriel, injuries

Azriel had been up for hours. Sleep had evaded him, the tangled sheets of the too-small bed serving as a bitter reminder of his lack of control. He hated himself for what had happened the night before—for how easily he had given in to her. She had been a firestorm in his arms, all heat and anger, a perfect storm of fury and passion. And he’d matched her, moment for moment, letting the simmering tension they’d carried for years erupt into something raw and primal.

But it was a mistake. He knew that.

His shadows slithered around him, restless as his thoughts. The morning air was cool, biting against his skin as he packed their meager supplies with deliberate precision. Every movement was an effort to drown out the memory of her body, the feel of her beneath him, the taste of her curses and her lips all at once.

The soft rustle of sheets behind him told him she was waking. He didn’t turn. He couldn’t. Not yet.

“Already up?” her voice broke the quiet, low and husky from sleep.

Azriel didn’t pause, his tone colder than the air. “We leave in ten minutes.”

He heard her shift, the sound of her feet hitting the floor. She didn’t say anything for a moment, and in the silence, he allowed himself a glance.

She looked… different in the soft morning light. No less fierce, but there was something raw about her, a vulnerability he didn’t want to acknowledge. Her hair was tousled, her expression guarded, but her eyes—gods, those eyes. They betrayed her for a heartbeat, flashing with hurt before they iced over.

“Right,” she said flatly, turning away to gather her things. “Wouldn’t want to waste time.”

The words were casual, but he could feel the edge in them, sharp enough to cut. He deserved it. He’d known that last night would hurt her, and he’d done it anyway.

His jaw tightened as he turned back to his task, pretending not to notice the quickness with which she dressed, the stiffness in her movements. Pretending not to feel the weight of the silence between them.

Azriel’s thoughts churned, a chaotic mess he couldn’t untangle. He’d spent years keeping his distance, convincing himself it was better that way. Safer. For her. For him.

But he hadn’t truly stayed away. He’d watched from the shadows, making sure she didn’t stumble into trouble she couldn’t handle. It was obsession, maybe. Or guilt. Or something he couldn’t name.

And last night had only made it worse.

He shouldn’t have touched her. Shouldn’t have let her pull him under. But the moment her lips had met his, all his carefully constructed walls had crumbled. And now, standing here in the cold light of morning, he couldn’t escape the truth of it: he wanted her still.

Not just her body, though that was seared into his mind like a brand. He wanted her fire, her defiance, the way she challenged him like no one else dared.

And gods help him, he hated her for it.

Because she had ruined him, too.

The memory of her betrayal—her lies—burned like a fresh wound. Her false information had led to disaster, and he’d paid the price. They both had. He could still see the fallout, the chaos it had caused, the look on her face when the consequences had come crashing down.

He shoved the thought aside, his jaw clenched as he swung his pack over his shoulder.

“We’re late,” he said curtly, breaking the silence.

She glanced at him, her expression unreadable. “I’m ready.”

They left the room without another word, the door clicking shut behind them.

As they walked through the quiet streets, the tension between them was palpable. His shadows twitched, brushing against her arm as if they had a mind of their own. He saw her stiffen at the contact, her gaze snapping to his in annoyance.

“Can you control those things for once?” she muttered.

“Can you stop giving orders for once?” he shot back, his voice colder than he intended.

Her lips thinned, but she didn’t respond. Instead, she quickened her pace, as if putting distance between them would lessen the weight of the silence.

Azriel watched her, his thoughts a tangled mess of guilt, anger, and something he refused to name. She was infuriating. Stubborn. Beautiful.

And gods help him, he didn’t know how to let her go.

The trail they followed wound through dense woods, the kind that swallowed sound and sight in equal measure. Every step was accompanied by the crunch of leaves underfoot, though Y/N couldn’t bring herself to care about stealth. Her frustration at the male stalking behind her simmered too hotly for that. If Azriel wanted her to be quiet, he could damn well walk faster and take the lead. But no—he kept his distance, keeping to his shadows as if they were the only things he trusted.

And maybe they were.

Y/N’s grip on her weapon tightened as she stomped down the uneven path, the tension between them suffocating. She didn’t dare look back, not when the memory of last night still clung to her like a second skin. She’d woken up to find him already dressed and preparing, his expression shuttered, his voice clipped.

A mistake.

That word had cut deeper than any blade. She hated herself for the flash of hurt he must’ve seen in her eyes before she managed to lock it away. Hated him even more for the way he seemed so unbothered, as if it hadn’t meant anything to him.

She gritted her teeth, her mind replaying his cold tone as she finally muttered, “You know, if I’m such a liability, why don’t you just leave me behind?”

Azriel didn’t answer immediately, though she knew he’d heard her. His shadows slithered across the ground toward her, curling near her boots as if they, too, wanted to silence her.

His voice, when it came, was clipped and devoid of emotion. “We’ve been over this. I need you. You need me. We both have the same goal. Malrik’s loyalists won’t hand themselves over for interrogation.”

The mention of Malrik set her blood boiling, though she wasn’t sure if it was because of the danger he posed or the fact that Azriel’s words had come with such detachment—I need you, not I want you. Not I care about you.

“Right,” she muttered, rolling her eyes even though she knew he couldn’t see her face. “Because that worked so well last time.”

Her words hung in the air like a challenge, but Azriel didn’t take the bait. Of course he didn’t. He never rose to her provocations unless it served some purpose, and right now, his silence only made her anger burn hotter.

The tension between them had her so distracted that she nearly missed the sound. Nearly.

A twig snapped, sharp and sudden, slicing through the oppressive quiet of the forest.

Y/N froze instantly, her instincts kicking in as she gripped her weapon. Her heart raced, but her body stayed perfectly still. She didn’t need to look back to know Azriel had stopped, too. His shadows darted out like vipers, curling through the trees in search of the source.

“Move,” Azriel hissed, his voice low but urgent.

Before she could process his command, he shoved her behind a tree. The force of it knocked the air from her lungs, and she barely had time to steady herself before an arrow flew past, embedding itself in the bark where she’d been standing a second ago.

Her heart slammed against her ribs as she peered out from behind the tree. Figures emerged from the shadows—six of them, maybe more. Their movements were too calculated, too precise for common bandits. These were professionals.

“Well, well,” one of the mercenaries drawled, his scarred face splitting into a grin. “Looks like we caught ourselves a pretty bird and her handler.”

Y/N’s grip on her weapon tightened, her pulse thundering in her ears. She could feel Azriel’s presence behind her, could feel the shift in the air as his shadows slithered around them. The tension between them was nothing compared to the danger standing before them now.

Azriel stepped out from behind the tree, his wings partially spread, his blade gleaming in the dim light filtering through the canopy. He looked every bit the terrifying Illyrian warrior the stories warned of, his shadows curling around his feet like living smoke.

“Leave now,” he said, his voice cold and sharp as steel. “And you’ll live.”

The mercenary laughed, the sound rough and mocking. “Oh, I don’t think so, shadow boy. Malrik wants your heads, and he’s paying well for them.”

Y/N stepped out then, her own blade at the ready. Her pulse steadied as adrenaline took over, her focus sharpening. “If you think Malrik’s gold is worth your lives, be my guest.”

The mercenary’s grin widened. “Feisty. I like her.” He raised his hand, and the rest of the group moved as one, fanning out to surround them.

Azriel shot her a warning look. “Stay close,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.

She bristled at the command but didn’t argue. They could hash out their differences later—if they survived this.

The first mercenary lunged, his blade aimed at Azriel’s throat. Azriel moved like a shadow, his dagger flashing as he parried the attack and countered with brutal efficiency.

Y/N barely had time to take it in before another mercenary was on her, his blade slashing toward her midsection. She sidestepped, bringing her own weapon up in a fluid arc that caught him across the shoulder. He staggered but didn’t fall, and she had to duck as another mercenary came at her from the side.

The fight descended into chaos, the sounds of steel meeting steel echoing through the forest. Y/N moved with precision, her strikes landing with deadly accuracy. But the mercenaries were relentless, their coordination suggesting they’d fought together before.

At one point, she felt a presence at her back and whirled, only to see Azriel there, his blade slicing through the throat of a mercenary who’d gotten too close. His shadows curled protectively around her for a moment before he moved away, his attention snapping back to the fight.

Her breath hitched, but there was no time to dwell on it.

Another mercenary lunged at her, his strike aimed at her head. She ducked and retaliated, driving her blade into his side. He went down with a grunt, but she barely had time to catch her breath before another took his place.

The fight was brutal, and for a moment, it seemed like they might be overwhelmed. But then Azriel’s shadows surged, wrapping around two of the mercenaries and dragging them to the ground. He moved with lethal grace, his blade flashing as he finished them off.

The remaining mercenaries hesitated, their confidence wavering as they realized they were outmatched.

“Leave,” Azriel snarled, his voice low and deadly.

This time, they listened. The survivors turned and fled, disappearing into the trees.

Y/N lowered her blade, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her body ached, her muscles screaming in protest, but she forced herself to stand tall.

Azriel turned to her, his expression unreadable. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.

His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he turned away, cleaning his blade with practiced efficiency.

The tension between them hadn’t lessened. If anything, it had grown worse. But for now, there was silence, broken only by the distant sound of the mercenaries retreating.

Y/N stared after them, her thoughts a chaotic mess. She’d survived worse fights, but something about this one felt different—something about the way Azriel had looked at her, the way his shadows had curled around her like a shield.

She didn’t know what to make of it, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to.

After a couple of hours, the forest gave way to a clearing bathed in the glow of an early sunrise, the light slicing through the lingering mist. Y/N pushed past a dense tangle of branches, Azriel a step behind her, his shadows still coiling warily as if the mercenaries from earlier might reappear. Her muscles ached from the fight, and her patience was worn thin.

They had only just stepped into the clearing when Y/N froze.

Figures—at least five of them—stood gathered near the center, a flickering fire between them. They were armed and armored, their postures relaxed but alert. The glint of steel and polished leather caught the light, and though they looked at ease, the tension in the air was unmistakable.

“More of Malrik’s men?” Y/N muttered, her hand instinctively tightening around her blade.

Azriel’s shadows slithered forward, testing the air around the strangers. “No,” he said quietly. “Not mercenaries. But not friends, either.”

The figures turned as one, their conversation cutting off as they noticed the new arrivals. Y/N’s stomach twisted. They hadn’t been expecting anyone here, and whoever these people were, they looked like they could hold their own in a fight.

The leader of the group—a tall female with auburn hair braided down her back—stepped forward. Her eyes, sharp and assessing, flicked between Y/N and Azriel. “Well, isn’t this a surprise?” she said, her voice smooth but carrying an edge. “And here I thought this little corner of the forest was supposed to be quiet.”

Azriel stepped in front of Y/N, his shadows curling around his shoulders like a cloak. “We don’t want trouble,” he said evenly.

The female arched a brow. “Funny, considering you look like trouble incarnate.” Her gaze drifted to Y/N, lingering for a moment before returning to Azriel. “You don’t look like you’re from around here. What brings you to our woods?”

Before Azriel could respond, another figure stepped forward—a male. He was taller than the others, his dark hair curling slightly at the ends, a sword strapped to his back and a dagger at his hip. His eyes were a startling shade of green, sharp and unreadable, but there was a faint smirk tugging at his lips, as if he found the entire situation amusing.

“Raya,” the male drawled, addressing the woman. “Let’s not scare our guests off just yet. They’ve already had a rough night, judging by the state of them.” His gaze flicked over Y/N, lingering on the dried blood streaked across her cheek and the dirt smudged on her gear.

Y/N bristled under his scrutiny, raising her chin. “We didn’t realize we were trespassing,” she said coolly.

“Of course you didn’t,” the man said, his smirk widening. “That’s what makes it so much fun to catch fae like you off guard.”

“Enough, Cade,” Raya said sharply, shooting the man a warning look. He raised his hands in mock surrender, but the grin never left his face.

Raya turned her attention back to Y/N and Azriel. “These woods are dangerous, in case you hadn’t noticed. Fae like you don’t usually wander in without a reason.”

Y/N hesitated, weighing her options. She didn’t trust these people, but the group was clearly organized, well-armed, and familiar with the terrain. If they were looking for Malrik’s loyalists, these strangers might know something useful.

“We’re looking for someone,” she said finally, ignoring Azriel’s sharp look.

The group exchanged glances, a silent conversation passing between them. It was Cade who broke the silence, his smirk replaced by a more serious expression. “And who, exactly, are you looking for?”

“Malrik’s men,” Azriel said, his voice hard. “We’re tracking them.”

That got their attention. The tension in the clearing shifted, the casual postures of the group becoming more guarded.

“You’re hunting Malrik’s men?” Raya said, her tone skeptical. “Why?”

“Because they’re a threat,” Y/N said simply.

Cade laughed, the sound low and rough. “A threat? That’s putting it lightly. They’re practically crawling all over these woods. You’ll need more than the two of you to take them on.”

“Maybe we’re not the only ones who want them gone,” Y/N said, her tone sharp.

Raya tilted her head, studying her. “What are you suggesting?”

“I’m suggesting that if you know something, you share it,” Y/N said, stepping closer. “We’re after the same thing. Help us, or stay out of our way.”

The group went silent, their eyes darting between Raya and Cade. For a moment, it seemed like they might refuse. But then Cade stepped forward, his green eyes locking on Y/N’s.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said, his voice dropping into a low drawl. “We’ve got a camp not far from here. Come with us, and we’ll talk.”

Y/N hesitated, glancing at Azriel. His expression was unreadable, but his shadows were curling tighter around him, a sign of his unease.

“We’ll follow,” Azriel said at last, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Cade’s smirk returned. “Good. Try to keep up, shadow boy.”

As the group began to move, Y/N fell into step beside Azriel, her thoughts racing. She didn’t trust these people—especially not Cade, with his infuriating smirk and sharp eyes. But if they knew anything about Malrik’s men, they couldn’t afford to walk away.

Still, as they followed the group deeper into the woods, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d just stepped into something much bigger than a simple hunt for mercenaries.

The trek toward the camp stretched on, the forest around them dense and humming with the subtle sounds of life. Cade led the way, his steps light and confident, while the others moved in a loose formation, clearly comfortable navigating the terrain. Y/N kept her eyes sharp, scanning for any sign of danger, though the group’s relaxed demeanor suggested they weren’t worried about threats.

She felt Azriel's presence like a shadow at her back—silent, watchful, and brooding. It was a constant reminder of their earlier argument, and the weight of his frustration pressed against her like a physical thing.

“So,” Cade said, his voice cutting through the quiet. He glanced over his shoulder at her, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips. “What’s a girl like you doing running around with shadow boy over there?”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by his sudden question. “Excuse me?”

“You don’t exactly scream ‘spymaster lackey,’” Cade continued, ignoring Azriel entirely. “No offense, shadow boy.”

Azriel didn’t respond, but Y/N could feel the temperature drop as his shadows tightened, curling around him like restless smoke.

“I’m not his lackey,” she said coolly, stepping over a fallen branch.

“Could’ve fooled me.” Cade grinned, his green eyes glinting with amusement. “You’re a little too... fiery to be running around on a leash.”

Y/N raised a brow. “Fiery?”

“It’s a compliment,” he said with a wink. “Though, if we’re being honest, I’d peg you as more of a wildfire. Unpredictable. Dangerous. The kind that burns a man alive if he’s not careful.”

Despite herself, Y/N felt a flicker of amusement. “That’s a lot of assumptions for someone who doesn’t even know my name.”

“Oh, I don’t need your name to know you’re trouble,” Cade replied, his grin widening. “It’s written all over you.”

She shook her head, biting back a laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re deflecting.” Cade’s tone turned teasing, his gaze flicking over her with open curiosity. “So, what’s your story, wildfire? How’d you end up chasing mercenaries with a shadow-slinging brooder?”

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but a low, dangerous growl from behind her cut through the air. She glanced over her shoulder to find Azriel glaring at Cade, his shadows curling tighter, darker.

“Shouldn’t you be watching the path?” Azriel said, his voice cold and quiet, the kind that sent shivers down her spine.

Cade, to her surprise, didn’t so much as flinch. Instead, he shrugged, completely unfazed. “The path’s not going anywhere. Besides, I’d hate to miss the chance to get to know your lovely companion here.”

Azriel’s steps quickened, and suddenly he was at her side, his towering presence making it clear that Cade’s banter had crossed a line. Y/N felt the air between them shift, the tension so thick it was suffocating.

“Maybe focus on getting us to the camp,” Azriel said, his voice like steel.

Cade just smirked, his confidence unshaken. “Relax, shadow boy. No harm in a little conversation. Or are you afraid she might like me better?”

Y/N couldn’t help the startled laugh that escaped her, though she quickly masked it with a cough. Azriel shot her a sharp look, his jaw tightening.

Raya, walking a few steps ahead, sighed audibly. “Cade, shut up before I gag you. You’re giving me a headache.”

“Aw, Raya, don’t be jealous,” Cade said with a mock pout. “There’s plenty of me to go around.”

“Gods, you’re insufferable,” Raya muttered, shaking her head. Then, turning to Y/N, she added, “Don’t let him fool you. He talks a lot, but it’s mostly nonsense.”

“I’m starting to get that,” Y/N replied dryly, though her lips twitched.

Azriel said nothing, his sharp gaze fixed on Cade like a hawk watching its prey. Y/N could practically feel the restraint it was taking for him not to lash out. She nudged him with her elbow, whispering, “Relax. He’s harmless.”

Azriel didn’t look at her, but his voice was low and taut. “I don’t like him.”

“Shocking,” Y/N muttered under her breath, earning her a sidelong glare.

Finally, the trees parted, revealing a sprawling camp nestled in a natural hollow. Tents of various sizes dotted the area, their canvas sides fluttering in the breeze. A large fire burned in the center, and several figures moved about, their movements purposeful and efficient. Despite its rough appearance, the camp was well-organized, and Y/N couldn’t help but be impressed.

“Welcome to our humble abode,” Cade said with a dramatic flourish. “It’s not much, but it keeps us alive.”

“Barely,” Raya muttered, striding past him.

Cade ignored her, his attention once again fixed on Y/N. “Come on, wildfire. Let me give you the grand tour.”

Y/N raised a brow. “Grand tour of tents and dirt? Tempting.”

“You’d be surprised what secrets this place holds,” Cade said with a wink. “Stick with me, and I’ll show you all the best spots.”

Before Y/N could respond, Azriel stepped forward. “We’re not splitting up.”

Raya turned to him, her expression hardening. “You are. The elder wants to speak with you, shadow boy.”

Azriel’s jaw clenched. “I don’t answer to your elder.”

“You do if you want our help,” Raya shot back, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Y/N placed a hand on Azriel’s arm, meeting his icy stare. “It’s fine. Go with her. I’ll be fine with Cade.”

Azriel’s gaze darkened, his voice a low growl. “No.”

Y/N sighed, exhaustion creeping into her voice. “Some distance from you would be good, Azriel. I’m tired of seeing your face.”

From somewhere behind her, Cade’s amused voice whispered, “Ugly one at that.”

Azriel moved so fast she barely had time to react, but Raya was quicker. She stepped between him and Cade, her voice sharp and commanding. “Enough. You’re going with me, whether you like it or not.”

Azriel’s glare could have melted steel, but Raya didn’t flinch. With a frustrated growl, he finally turned away, his shadows writhing around him.

Cade grinned, holding out a hand toward Y/N. “Shall we?”

Y/N hesitated, glancing at Azriel’s retreating form. He didn’t look back, but she could feel the tension radiating off him like a storm.

Taking a steadying breath, she turned back to Cade. “Lead the way.”

Azriel followed Raya through the winding paths of the camp, his strides measured but laced with a tension he couldn’t shake. His shadows rippled restlessly around him, curling and unfurling like they too sensed the storm brewing inside him.

Cade’s smirking face lingered in his mind, every smug word replaying over and over like a taunt. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, the urge to turn back and rip the grin off that idiot’s face almost overwhelming. But it wasn’t Cade that truly haunted him—it was the way Y/N had looked at him.

Her faint amusement. The way she’d allowed Cade’s attention, even if she didn’t encourage it.

Why did that bother him so much?

Azriel ground his teeth, the questions cutting deep as he walked. Why did it matter if she found Cade’s banter entertaining? Or if she thought Cade was charming? Hell, she probably did. Cade was... Cade. Confident, carefree, and the type of male who wore his charm like a damn badge of honor.

Azriel’s steps faltered.

Maybe she’d be happier with someone like that. Someone who could smile easily and joke without shadows clouding every word. Someone who wasn’t... him.

No.

The thought sliced through his mind like a whip, swift and brutal. The idea of her with anyone else made his chest tighten painfully, his shadows darken dangerously. Cade. Any male. It didn’t matter. None of them deserved her.

She could only ever be—

Azriel froze mid-thought, his breath catching as the realization clawed at him. With me.

His mind reeled, the emotions swirling in a storm of jealousy, fury, and something he refused to name. How had it come to this? How had she embedded herself so deeply into him that even the thought of her entertaining another male made him want to burn the world to ash?

It wasn’t fair. He wasn’t supposed to feel like this—not again.

Azriel’s jaw tightened, guilt twisting in his gut. He didn’t deserve this—her. She deserved better. Someone who could offer her light and laughter, not shadows and scars. Not pain and betrayal.

And yet, despite knowing all of that, the selfish part of him—the foolish part of him—wanted her anyway.

“Trouble in paradise?” Raya’s voice cut through his spiraling thoughts, dry and laced with amusement.

Azriel blinked, his head snapping toward her. He hadn’t realized she’d been watching him.

“Not in the mood,” he muttered, his tone sharper than intended.

Raya snorted. “You’re walking around like someone stole your favorite dagger. Let me guess: it’s about your lovely companion and Cade’s endless charm.”

Azriel’s shadows flared before he could stop them, and Raya laughed, shaking her head.

“Thought so,” she said. “Don’t worry, shadow boy. Cade’s an idiot, but he’s harmless. Mostly.”

“Mostly?” Azriel asked, his voice low, his shadows darkening further.

Raya waved a hand dismissively. “He talks a lot, but he’s not stupid. He knows when to back off... usually.” She glanced at him, her tone turning serious. “You should trust her. She doesn’t seem like the type to be easily swayed.”

Azriel said nothing, his jaw tightening as they continued walking. Trust her? He did. But that didn’t mean he trusted Cade—or any male, for that matter.

They reached a small hut near the center of the camp, its wooden structure weathered but sturdy. Smoke curled lazily from a small chimney, and the faint scent of herbs and earth lingered in the air.

Raya pushed open the door without hesitation, motioning for Azriel to follow.

Inside, the space was warm and dimly lit, the walls lined with shelves overflowing with jars, trinkets, and scrolls. A low table sat in the center, surrounded by cushions, and an elderly figure hunched over it, her hands moving deftly as she sorted through a collection of dried leaves.

The elder looked up as they entered, her eyes sharp and knowing despite the deep lines that etched her face. Her hair was a striking silver, braided down her back, and her presence filled the room like a force of nature.

Raya spoke first, her words flowing in a language Azriel didn’t recognize. The elder responded in kind, her voice steady and measured, though her eyes never left Azriel.

Finally, Raya turned to him. “The elder will speak with you now. Try to be polite.”

With that, she left, closing the door behind her.

Azriel inclined his head slightly, stepping further into the room.

“You are not what I expected,” the elder said, her voice soft but carrying an unmistakable weight.

Azriel raised a brow. “And what did you expect?”

The elder smiled faintly, gesturing for him to sit. “A male less... shrouded.”

He didn’t move. “We won’t be staying long. I only need information on Malrik.”

The elder chuckled, a low, knowing sound. “Always so impatient, your kind. Sit, shadow boy. I am older than your parents combined, and I don’t have time for your posturing.”

Azriel’s eyes narrowed, but he sat, his shadows shifting uneasily. “Why are you helping us?”

The elder leaned back, studying him with an intensity that made his skin prickle. “Because Malrik is dangerous, and you would not be here unless you had reason to stop him.”

Azriel hesitated, weighing his words carefully. Finally, he said, “He’s gathering forces, planning something larger.”

The elder nodded slowly. “You are right to be wary. Malrik has aligned himself with dark forces—forces that crave power and destruction. He is not a simple mercenary. He is a predator, and his sights are set on far more than this forest.”

“Where is he?” Azriel asked, his voice taut.

The elder’s expression darkened. “North of here, beyond the river. He has a stronghold hidden in the cliffs. But be warned—his forces are not easily overcome.”

Azriel nodded, his mind already calculating their next move. “Thank you for the information.”

The elder’s gaze softened slightly. “Be careful, shadow boy. The path you walk is treacherous, and the stakes are higher than you realize.”

Azriel didn’t respond, rising to his feet.

“You and your companion may stay here for the night,” the elder added. “But do not linger. The longer you stay, the more dangerous it becomes.”

With a curt nod, Azriel left the hut, his mind a whirlwind of plans and unresolved emotions.

He had left Y/N alone with Cade for far too long.

Y/n’s laughter had been constant throughout the tour, a sound she hadn’t realized she’d missed so much. Cade’s charisma was infectious, his humor weaving through the air like a gentle breeze, pushing aside the heavy thoughts that always loomed in her mind. For the first time in what felt like forever, there was no Azriel, no Malrik, no looming threats. There was just Cade, a bright presence, bringing lightness to her soul that she hadn’t known she needed.

Every joke Cade made felt like a small reprieve, each laugh an escape from the oppressive heaviness of her reality. His voice was like a soothing melody, lifting her spirits with every word he spoke, each playful comment distracting her from the constant weight of responsibility and turmoil. She had almost forgotten what it was like to simply be, to not be at war with herself or the world around her.

As the tour wound to its end, Cade finally turned to her with a grin, his hands brushing against his jacket as if closing a book.

"And that, my lady, is the grand tour," he declared, bowing dramatically. "Voila, your room, your kingdom."

Y/n’s laughter bubbled up again, and she felt a little lighter, a little freer. She didn’t even realize how deeply his presence had begun to impact her until this moment—until the joy had settled over her like a warm, comforting blanket.

But then, something shifted. Cade’s hand, warm and playful, slid around her waist. The movement was casual, natural, as if they had known each other for ages. Y/n stiffened for a brief moment—until the sharp chill of a shadow cut through the air.

Before she could even process the change, a blast of dark power pierced the moment, and Cade was forced to recoil. The sudden pain contorted his face as he jerked his hand back, clutching at it. Y/n's breath caught in her throat, her eyes flashing to the source.

Azriel.

He moved toward them with a deadly quiet, his presence like an icy storm sweeping over the area. His eyes locked onto Cade, and the space between them froze in an instant. Y/n felt the pulse of tension in the air as Azriel’s gaze bore through Cade, his jaw clenched, the coldness radiating from him sending a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature.

"Cade, are you alright?" Y/n found herself asking instinctively, her hand reaching for him, wanting to help.

Cade, ever the charmer, brushed off his injury with a smile, despite the clear wince of pain. "I’m fine. No need to worry, my lady. See? Hardly a scratch."

But Y/n was already turning, irritation bubbling under her skin as she faced Azriel. His expression was unreadable, his icy demeanor masking something far darker lurking underneath.

"Azriel," she began, her voice sharp with an edge of frustration, "why the hell would you—?"

Before she could finish, Azriel was already cutting her off, his voice low and controlled. "They gave us a room. Let’s go."

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat at his commanding tone. The words were like a cold slap to her face, a harsh reminder of who Azriel was—what he was capable of.

"No," she shot back, standing firm. "I’m staying here with Cade. He showed me to my room."

Azriel’s eyes darkened, his voice slipping into a low growl. "You’ll be coming with me." His gaze flickered to Cade, a clear challenge in his eyes, and it wasn’t long before Cade, seemingly unaffected, fired back.

"A room close to mine," he stated, his grin mischievous, as though taunting Azriel to escalate the situation.

Y/n’s heart twisted. She could feel the storm brewing between them, the undeniable pull of their conflict—a storm that had been building for far too long. And then, just like that, the tension snapped. Azriel didn’t wait. He lunged forward, a blur of motion, and before anyone could react, he had Cade pinned against the wall. The air crackled with the promise of violence, and Y/n’s pulse raced as she realized just how far things had already gone.

"Cade!" Y/n shouted, rushing forward, but it was Raya who managed to break them apart, her voice commanding as she barked orders.

"Get back, Y/n! Now!" Raya’s voice was like a whip, cutting through the chaos.

Y/n hesitated only for a moment before she grabbed Azriel’s arm, pulling him away with surprising strength as Raya moved to separate Cade from the mess. The citizens had gathered, whispering, eyes wide, watching the spectacle unfold, and Y/n could feel their stares on her as if she were the cause of all this madness.

"Get him away," Raya demanded, her voice cold and stern. Y/n’s own anger flared as she guided Azriel, pushing him towards the room that had been assigned to them.

When they finally reached the door, Y/n slammed it shut behind them, her breath heavy with a mix of anger and frustration. Azriel, ever the master of control, seemed unfazed on the surface, but she could see the simmering fury beneath his calm mask. He was coiled tight, ready to strike—at her, at anyone who dared to challenge him.

Y/n was silent for a moment, her back pressed against the door as she tried to steady herself. When she turned to face him, she saw the tension in his jaw, the tightening of his fists.

"Azriel," she started, her voice quieter than before, though the fury still laced her words. "You can’t just... you can’t keep doing this."

He met her gaze with the cold, deadly calm that he always wore, but she could see it in his eyes—the hunger, the need for control, the need to make her bend to him.

And it disgusted her.

"Sit down," she demanded, her tone sharp as she moved past him to find medical supplies. "You’re hurt."

Azriel didn’t argue, though there was a flicker of something dangerous in his eyes. He sat on the chair, his body tense, the only sign of his earlier aggression still visible in the way he held himself.

Y/n moved toward him, her hands working to gather the supplies. The silence between them stretched, heavy and thick with unspoken words. As she gently touched his wounds, applying the ointment with careful precision, the moment stretched out into something… more.

"You’re still the same," she whispered, barely audible, her hands hesitating as she met his gaze. "Nothing has changed."

Azriel's voice was low and edged with a dangerous kind of amusement. "What do you mean by that?"

Y/n leaned down to tend to the injury on his shoulder, her breath warm against his skin. As she reached to dab at the wound, her hand brushed across his lips. The world seemed to still, the air thick with tension. Azriel’s gaze locked on her, heat swirling in his dark eyes. He leaned forward, his lips brushing against her finger, and before she could react, his tongue darted out, catching the tip of her finger.

She gasped, her body freezing as the sensation of his touch ignited something inside her that she had thought long buried. Her thoughts scattered, and for a moment, she forgot herself.

"Divine," Azriel murmured, his voice thick, the word leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

Her breath caught in her throat. No. She would not fall for this again. Not after everything.

Y/n jerked back, pulling her hand away from him, her heart hammering in her chest. "Let me go," she whispered, her voice shaky with a mixture of rage and something darker.

Azriel reached for her again, but this time, she was quicker. "You’re not getting away from me that easily," he muttered, though the dark hunger in his eyes made her heart twist.

But she wouldn’t let him. She wouldn’t fall for it. She wouldn’t let herself believe that she could forgive him, not again, not after everything he had done.

"Why?" she spat suddenly, her voice low but raw. "Why did you care, Azriel? Why does it matter to you now?"

Azriel’s expression froze, his eyes narrowing. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Y/n's words spilled out, as if they had been building for years, for lifetimes, ready to erupt.

"Because of you," she hissed, the words cutting through the silence like a blade. "Because you banished me. You took everything from me, Azriel. It was because of you that I ended up in Malrik’s path. He raped me. Is that what you wanted to hear? You wanted to hear the truth, Azriel? There it is."

The room fell silent. Azriel’s body froze, his eyes wide with shock and something else—something almost darker than fury.

"Wh—what?" Azriel’s voice was cold, barely a whisper, and she could hear the tremble in it.

Y/n’s gaze hardened. She would not give him the satisfaction of her pain. Not again.

"You heard me," she said, her voice breaking only slightly. "Forget it, Azriel. I don’t need your pity. I never wanted it from you."

Azriel’s eyes burned, but she wasn’t looking for the comfort of his gaze. She was too far gone. Too broken.

"Do you care now, Azriel?" she mocked, laughing bitterly. "After everything? After you helped ruin my life?"

Azriel took a step toward her, his expression a mixture of confusion and anger.

"Don’t test me," he warned, his voice dangerously low. "What did you just say?"

Y/n didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. The damage was already done.

With one final, cold laugh, she turned on her heel, heading for the door. "You don’t deserve to know."

And with that, she left him standing in the silence of the room—his world slowly crumbling around him.

Azriel’s fists were clenched so tightly that his nails were digging into his palms, the pain a welcome distraction from the fury that churned through him. His mind raced, every thought tangled in a mess of rage, guilt, and self-loathing, each one more suffocating than the last. Malrik’s name burned through his veins like acid, every breath he took a reminder of the horror that had unfolded—the horror he had failed to stop. He could feel his body trembling with barely contained violence, a force ready to break free at the first opportunity. But it was not just Malrik’s face he saw when his mind closed in. It was hers.

Y/n.

He couldn’t escape the memory of her—her eyes wide, brimming with raw pain as she recounted the depths of what had happened to her. It was the sound of her voice, trembling, the way her hands had jerked away from him as though his touch had poisoned her. It was the coldness that had filled the space between them. It was the utter betrayal he had felt in her eyes, as though every part of her had been shattered by him. By him.

The realization gnawed at his insides like a feral beast. He had been so blind, so consumed by his own guilt and his obsession with keeping control, that he had failed her when she needed him the most. When she had needed him most.

And then, the worst part—the piece of his own tortured soul that he couldn't escape from. That night, when everything had gone wrong, when Y/n had needed someone to chase after her, someone to protect her, someone to care, he had stood there, frozen. Frozen.

His mind had screamed at him to go after her, to chase her down and hold her in his arms, to assure her that he would never let anyone hurt her again. But he hadn’t. He had stayed behind in that wretched room, wallowing in his guilt, knowing that he didn’t deserve to comfort her. He didn’t deserve her.

The thought was like a jagged knife in his heart. How could he, when he had failed her so utterly, so completely? He was the one who had let her down. He was the one who had failed to protect her, who had let the world hurt her.

His rage reached new heights as he thought of Malrik’s name again. The bastard. The monster. Malrik had taken something so precious from her, and Azriel had been too weak, too much of a coward to stop it.

Not again.

Azriel’s chest heaved as the thought surged forward, becoming his singular focus. He would make Malrik pay. He would make him suffer in ways that no man—no monster—could endure. The bastard would feel every single second of pain that Y/n had felt. And more. The thought of what Malrik had done to her filled him with a fury so overwhelming that it threatened to break the walls of control Azriel had built around himself.

Azriel didn’t sleep that night. His mind wouldn’t allow him to. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face again—the raw emotion in her eyes, the betrayal, the pain. The tears that had gathered there but never fell.

Instead, he planned. He planned every agonizing moment of Malrik’s downfall. Every strike, every word he would say to break him. He would make sure Malrik understood what it felt like to be stripped of everything, to have everything he had ever known taken from him in the most brutal of ways.

But even as he planned, even as he dreamed of tearing Malrik apart, a part of him knew—knew—he wasn’t doing it for vengeance. He wasn’t doing it to make the world right again. No. He was doing it for Y/n. He was doing it because she needed him, even if she couldn’t see that right now. Because she would need him again, whether she admitted it or not. He would be there, in the shadows, ready to protect her when she was ready to accept him.

That thought—her needing him again—kept him from completely losing himself. He would keep her safe, even from himself. Even if she never looked at him the same way again, even if she never forgave him, he would keep her safe. That was the only promise he could make.

Morning came slowly. The dim light of dawn crept through the window, casting long, slanted shadows across the room. Azriel felt the weight of the night’s torment lift, but only slightly. His chest still ached with the burden of guilt, but he knew there was work to be done. There was always work to be done.

He stood, stretching his arms above his head, the tension still lingering in his body as he gathered himself. His heart thundered in his chest as his eyes fell upon the door.

He had promised to keep her safe. He had failed her once, but not again.

With one last glance around the room, Azriel stepped otside, his footsteps silent as he moved down the road. The cool air of the early morning settled on his skin, the silence broken only by the distant sounds of the camp stirring to life.

He knew she would be out there. He could feel her. He could sense her presence in the air like a faint pull at his soul, the connection between them still there, even after everything. He would find her.

And as he rounded a big tree, he saw her.

Y/n.

Her back was to him, her posture stiff, her shoulders hunched in a way that made his stomach twist. She sat on a log near the fire pit, Raya beside her. Neither of them looked particularly happy. Azriel could see it—the tension in her shoulders, the way she barely seemed to move, the way her eyes flicked to the ground as if avoiding something. It was clear she wasn’t okay.

Raya spoke, her voice too soft to be heard from where Azriel stood, but Y/n didn’t answer. Not with words. She barely moved. Azriel’s heart clenched at the sight. She looked so fragile, so broken, and it was all his fault.

His anger flared again, but this time, it was directed inward. At himself.

He wasn’t enough for her. He had never been enough. He had always tried to push away his feelings, tried to convince himself that his duty to his people, his loyalty to the shadows, was enough to make up for the coldness he hid behind. But it hadn’t been. It had never been.

And now, here she was, sitting there, broken and lost, because of him.

But he couldn’t let this continue. He couldn’t let her be alone in this. No matter what she thought of him, no matter how much she hated him, he would not leave her like this.

She would never be alone again.

Stepping forward, he moved with the silence of the shadows that had always been his ally, coming up behind her.

Y/n didn’t notice him approach, and for a moment, he simply stood there, watching her. His heart twisted in his chest, but his gaze hardened. There would be no more hesitation. No more hiding behind his guilt.

"Y/n," he said, his voice low, barely a whisper.

Her shoulders stiffened, and she turned slowly to look at him. Her eyes, dull and filled with something he couldn’t place, met his, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop.

She said nothing, and yet everything in her screamed at him.

But Azriel didn’t look away. Not this time. Not when she needed him most.

"I swear to you," he said, his voice low and laced with a promise, "Malrik will pay. And no matter what you think of me, no matter how much you despise me, I will keep you safe."

She didn’t answer, but the faintest flicker in her eyes told him that she had heard him. It was a small step, but it was a step.

And it was enough.

Azriel stood there, resolute. He would make Malrik pay. He would make the bastard regret ever laying a finger on her.

And as the first rays of sunlight crept across the horizon, he knew—he would always fight for her.

No matter what.

Y/n’s steps were slow, measured, her body almost dragging behind the others. The forest around her seemed distant, even though it was right in front of her. The towering trees, the chirping birds, the rustle of leaves—they were just noises in the background, blending into the dullness of everything else. There was a weight in her chest, one that felt like it was pressing down on her lungs, suffocating her.

It was an unfamiliar kind of silence. The quiet between her and Azriel was thicker than it had ever been, and for once, she didn’t even have the energy to make some biting remark, to lash out. The fire that usually burned inside her, the defiance, the sharpness—it was gone.

Everything felt numb. Everything.

Azriel had been silent too, his usual stoic expression betraying a deep strain that had only grown worse over the hours. She could feel his gaze on her, though she didn’t dare look back at him. She couldn’t. The thought of meeting his eyes—of seeing that guilt, that sorrow written across his face—was almost too much.

She hadn’t said a word since they’d left camp. Neither of them had. The only sounds between them were their footsteps on the forest floor, the soft crackling of twigs underfoot. She was surprised she hadn’t heard Azriel speak, to ask her something, to break the silence. But he hadn’t. Instead, his presence lingered behind her like an invisible weight, an oppressive force that made every breath she took feel shallow.

Eventually, they reached a clearing. The sunlight filtered through the canopy above, casting dappled light over the soft grass. A small lake stretched out before them, its surface as still as the air around it. It was almost eerie, the quietness of it all, and Y/n found herself standing there for a moment longer than she intended, as if waiting for something—anything—to change.

Azriel, however, came to an abrupt stop, causing Y/n to halt as well. He turned to face her, his eyes flicking to the water briefly before meeting her gaze. His jaw tightened, the lines of his face hardening in that way they always did when he was deep in thought.

"We stop here," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "Malrik’s place is close. We need to make the final plan."

Y/n just nodded. She didn’t care. She didn’t feel anything. The words fell flat in her mind, the weight of the situation not even penetrating her numbness. Azriel’s gaze lingered on her for a moment, his brow furrowed, like he was waiting for something. But she didn’t offer anything. Not a word. Not a glance. Nothing.

Azriel sighed deeply. It was a sound full of weariness and frustration, and when she finally looked up at him, she saw something she hadn’t expected—guilt. A deep, gnawing kind of guilt that twisted at the corners of his eyes.

He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, running a hand through his dark hair in frustration. His eyes dropped to the ground, then flicked back to hers.

"Y/n," he began, his voice low, almost too quiet, "I know what I did… I can’t fix it, but I need you to understand." He paused, visibly gathering his thoughts, as though the weight of his words was more than he could bear.

She stood still, her arms crossed over her chest, her gaze fixed firmly on him. She was cold, distant—detached. It wasn’t that she wanted to ignore him. It was just… easier this way. It hurt too much to feel anything else.

"I made the choice to protect the rest of the team," Azriel continued, his voice hoarse with regret. "I didn’t believe you, but I did it to protect the network, the people we worked with. I… I spread the lie that you were a traitor to keep suspicion off of everyone else. To keep the integrity of the mission intact."

His words hung in the air between them, each one a sharp reminder of the betrayal. But Y/n wasn’t surprised. She didn’t even feel the sting anymore. She had lived with it for so long, she had become numb to the pain of it all.

Azriel’s voice faltered when he saw her reaction—or lack of one. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t react the way he had hoped. Instead, her eyes were flat, distant, as if the words didn’t matter anymore.

"That day…" Azriel’s breath caught in his throat. "I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for not believing you. I thought—"

Y/n’s eyes flicked to him, the coldness in her gaze sharper than any dagger. She cut him off before he could finish.

"Really?" she asked, her voice flat, a dull edge to the words that cut deeper than any shout. "That’s all you have to say? That’s how little you believed in me, after everything I did for you? After everything I gave you?"

Her words were like ice, and each syllable seemed to strike Azriel like a hammer against his chest. He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out at first. The guilt was so thick in his throat he couldn’t find the words. He had hurt her so deeply, and now, there was nothing he could do to make it right.

"You branded me a traitor," Y/n continued, her voice cold and cutting. "I was forced to flee, branded and cast out, with no home, no life to go back to. And do you know what happened then? Do you know what happened when you turned your back on me?" She paused, her eyes now dark and distant as if she were reliving the memories in that very moment.

Azriel’s chest tightened. He could see the pain there, in her eyes, even though her face remained an emotionless mask.

"Malrik," she said, her voice almost a whisper, the name like venom on her tongue. "He found me, in my weakest state, when I had nothing left. He took advantage of me, twisted me into something I wasn’t. And all of it—everything that happened—was because you couldn’t believe in me."

Azriel winced, his entire body recoiling from the harshness of her words, the weight of her truth. He had never wanted to see her like this, to hear her speak of everything he had done to her. He had thought, all this time, that his actions were justified. That they were for the greater good. But now, standing in front of her, all he saw was the destruction he had wrought.

"I didn’t mean for any of it to happen," Azriel whispered, his voice breaking. "I never wanted you to go through that. I was wrong. I failed you, Y/n, and I can’t—I can’t fix it. I just want you to know… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry."

Y/n stared at him for a long moment, her eyes cold, unyielding. Her lips pressed into a thin line. She said nothing for a moment, letting the silence hang heavy in the air.

And then, in a voice that was quiet, but somehow colder than anything Azriel had ever heard, she spoke again.

"Sorry doesn’t change anything, Azriel," she said, her words cutting through the silence. "Sorry doesn’t fix what you did. Sorry doesn’t give me back the life you took from me."

Her gaze flicked to the ground, and Azriel’s heart shattered at the hollow emptiness in her voice.

"I don’t need your apologies," she whispered, more to herself than to him. "I needed you to believe in me. I needed you to trust me. But you didn’t."

And with that, she turned away, walking toward the edge of the lake, her steps distant, her posture rigid with that coldness that now seemed to define her.

Azriel stood there, motionless, the weight of her words sinking into him like a thousand blades. He had never felt such crushing guilt in his life. He had never felt so utterly lost.

But Y/n didn’t look back. Not even once.

(SMUT STARTS HERE)

Suddenly, she sighed before saying, "I hate you but I also need you."

And the next thing she knew, she was taking her clothes off, feeling his gaze behind her as she lazily entered the water. She hated how even after all of this, she wanted his gaze on her and only her.

She was still not looking at him, turned away so her back was facing him in the water as she stared into the other side of the lake. "Let's make the mistake of last night once more. After all, we won't be seeing each other once this mission's done. I don't need your useless pity. All I need is to use you now, just like you used me then."

It meant nothing, it would cut him deep and she didn't care.

Suddenly, she felt his naked chest pressing against her as he lened in to whisper in her ear, "Use me then."

Y/n's breath hitched, a tinge of surprise fluttering inside her despite the cold, calculated mask she had been wearing. She hadn’t expected him to move, to be this close again. But Azriel, ever the shadow, was right there—his presence like a storm against the stillness of the lake. His voice, a low rasp, sent a shiver down her spine. She didn't want to acknowledge it, but she couldn't ignore the way her body reacted to his proximity. She hated it. She hated that even in this mess, even in the aftermath of betrayal, her mind still wanted him, still needed him.

"Use me then," Azriel repeated, his words a dark promise that neither comforted nor threatened. It was like he was daring her, pushing her to go further, to test the boundaries of the agony between them. He knew this was all she had left—the anger, the coldness. The way she lashed out, using her words like blades, trying to push him further away.

Her pulse quickened, but Y/n kept her face impassive, her gaze hard as she stared across the lake. The water rippled lazily around her, reflecting the overcast sky, the light barely reaching through the trees. It was all so calm—so still. And yet, inside her chest, the storm raged.

He moved then, his hand sliding around her waist, pulling her against him with a gentleness that contrasted the tension in his body. His lips brushed the back of her neck, a fleeting, tender touch that nearly broke her. But Y/n stayed still, her pulse pounding in her ears.

"I’m not leaving you," Azriel murmured, his voice soft but fierce. "Not like before. Not this time."

The words hit her harder than she’d expected, and for the briefest moment, the coldness in her heart cracked open.

But she wouldn’t let it. Not now. Not ever.

"Let’s make that mistake," she said again, her voice flat, unfeeling. "But don’t think it’ll change anything."

Azriel’s arms tightened around her, his lips brushing against her ear one last time. "I never thought it would."

And before she knew it, his hand went lower, reaching her core, causing a small gasp to leave her lips as her hand came over his arm, gripping it.

He lazily massaged her clit and she suddenly felt aware of his largee cock teasing her from behind too. And as if on cue, he entered her from the back at the same time as his finger entered her from the front.

Y/n couldn't hold the moan that escaped her lips after that, her grip tightening on his arm as azriel began thrusting into her from behind while his mouth started sucking and kissing on her neck.

Then, she felt a second finger dip into her as he began fucking her faster, his pace quickening as her moans grew louder.

"Fuck, just like that, keep moaning," Azriel said through his own growls as she leaned her head back on him for support and thats when he took the chance to capture and mark her lips.

The kiss was brutal, it was as if he wanted nothing more than to eat her alive, to forever be joined with her, to imprint himself on her. The water was rippling wildly with their movements and when he felt her clenching around his cock and fingers, he knew she was close.

But then-- then she did the unthinkable.

Azriel suddenly felt his mind go blank when Y/N reached her hand out and touched that part of his wings. Just the right area of his nerves to make him weak in the knees. With a loud groan he couldn't stop himself and released inside her, Y/N following right after him.

Their ragged breaths were all that could be heard as Y/N fell back on to his strong hold for support.

(SMUT ENDS HERE)

An hour later, the silence between them felt heavier than ever after what had transpired. The air was thick with unspoken words, emotions both raw and tumultuous swirling around them.

Y/N lay back on the soft earth beside the water’s edge, her breath still shallow from the intensity. She stared up at the sky, the clouds slowly floating away. But it wasn’t the sky that had her attention—her mind was clouded with thoughts of what had just happened. The distance between them, once so palpable, had blurred. And now, in the aftermath, she felt more lost than ever.

Azriel sat beside her, his posture tense, but there was something else—something softer in the way he looked at her, though he remained silent. He didn’t touch her, didn’t speak. But she could feel him there, present, his very presence suffocating her thoughts.

She wanted to speak. To scream, to confront him, to demand answers. But the words wouldn't come. The anger and frustration she’d been holding inside for so long—since before everything had spiraled—felt heavier now. But it wasn’t just the anger. It was confusion. Confusion about herself, about him. About what they had just shared.

He finally broke the silence, his voice low and rough. "Y/N…" he whispered her name, and she flinched slightly, though she didn’t look at him. "I—"

"Don’t," she interrupted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t want your apology. I don’t want your explanations."

There was a long pause, the kind that felt like an eternity. Her words hung in the air between them, but she didn’t regret them. She couldn’t. Not after everything.

He remained silent, his gaze fixed somewhere in the distance. She could feel the weight of his stare, but she refused to meet it. She didn’t trust herself to look at him without feeling something she wasn’t ready to face.

After what felt like hours, he spoke again. "You can hate me all you want," he said quietly, his voice strained. "But I’ll never stop trying to protect you. Even if you don’t want it."

Y/N sat up, her gaze flickering over to him, though her heart twisted at the sincerity in his tone. "Why?" she asked softly, her voice trembling slightly despite herself. "Why now? After everything?"

He turned to her, his expression unreadable, though the shadows in his eyes seemed to deepen. "I don’t know. I don’t have all the answers. But I do know that I can’t walk away. Not from you."

Her heart pounded in her chest, and for a moment, she thought she might fall apart. Instead, she swallowed, her walls—barely held up to begin with—beginning to crack.

"You think that changes anything?" she said, her voice strong, though her chest felt tight with emotion. "It doesn’t. We can’t undo what’s been done."

Azriel’s eyes flickered, his jaw tightening. "I never expected you to forgive me," he said, voice low. "But I’ll make sure you’re never alone again. Even if that means staying out of your way."

Y/N turned away, her emotions swirling. She wasn’t ready for this conversation. Not yet. Not when everything still felt so fresh, so painful.

But in that moment, something shifted—something she couldn't name or understand. A part of her knew that this... whatever this was between them... would never be simple. But for the first time in a long while, she wasn’t sure she wanted it to be.

"Let’s finish this mission," she said quietly, her voice shaking slightly. "And then... we'll figure out where we stand."

Azriel nodded, but she could feel the weight of his gaze on her, even as she stood up, brushing the dirt from her clothes. The mission. The chaos. It all still loomed ahead of them, and neither of them was ready to face it just yet.

But as they walked away from the lake, side by side, something unspoken had changed. They hadn’t fixed everything. Far from it. But they’d come closer to understanding each other, to acknowledging that whatever had happened between them—it wasn’t over.

Not yet.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @darkbloodsly @moonfawnx @clementine111002 @galaxystern08

[leth-writes]

yandere silco x reader who betrayed him

“Shit, get out!” You screeched, shoving the enforcer forward and away from you as you spotted Sevika’s harsh snarl from across the crowded, dimly lit bar. He booked it, running for the backdoor. You were so fucked. You tried to follow him, but were stopped by Sevika’s strong grasp on your forearm.

“What the fuck are you doing?” She growled, spitting mad, in your face.

“N-nothing! I was just telling him to leave me alone,” you stammered, feeling the blood drain from your face and the adrenaline pour down your spine. It felt like your head was going to explode from the pressure of your thoughts racing, trying to create an excuse. 

“Bullshit,” she huffed, dragging you through the back exit after the enforcer. When the two of you entered the alleyway, the enforcer was nowhere to be seen, not even a hint of him to be found. “Shit,” she cursed, spitting. She whipped you around and slammed you to the brick wall, hand holding you up solely by your throat.

“You better tell the truth, you little rat, Silco isn’t here to save you…” She punched the wall by your head and you startled even further, letting out a little whimper of fear. “Please, please Sevika! I promise, I swear on my soul, I wasn’t doing anything!” You cried, fingers clutching and scrabbling at her thick, coiled forearm.

She huffed once again, face turned to look out the entrance of the alley in contemplation. “Ple-” you began, but her free hand shifted to cover your mouth, hand reaching from your nose down your chin. Fuck, you couldn’t breathe! You didn’t want to die in this dingy little alley, never having escaped your captivity. You scrabbled against the brick walls, fingernails breaking under the force, then scratched at her forearm, leaving long, deep grooves that soon welled up with blood.

You tried to gasp, to get even a breath of air through the tight grip of her fingers, but it was futile. Slowly, ever so slowly, your world began to darken, the ringing in your ears drowning out Sevika’s harsh panting. Then, everything went dark.

It was cold, so cold you couldn’t feel your fingers. That was the first thing you noticed as you bolted awake. You were in the chair in Silco’s back room, strapped down with thick leather ropes and wearing an undershirt and your thin, cloth pants. How did you get here?

“I imagine I’ve been keeping your chain a little too long, little one,” You jumped at Silco’s voice, head craning to see him without any luck. He was standing behind you. The room was dingy and dark, a complete lack of visibility for your groggy, grimy eyes. You blinked fiercely, trying to clear them.

It was then you noticed the thick leather strap clamping your mouth closed, tongue brushing against the rough, grime-coated material. It was then the memory hit you, as your head throbbed; Sevika had caught you, and she had knocked you out. Fuck, were you going to die in this chair, was he going to inject you with shimmer, contort and change your body beyond your control until you were unrecognizable?

You whimpered once again, arms straining against the thick straps as you tried to break even a single hand free. You failed. “Hush now, there’s no use in struggling. I won’t be making the same mistake again,” Silco said, the soft hint of a threat in his voice. He sauntered closer, hand trailing along your shoulder as he crossed in front of you. Silco leaned in until his lips barely brushed the material of the leather gag. “It’s not your fault, poor thing, I forgot you needed extra… guidance. A stupid little thing, aren’t you, unable to learn not to bite your owner even as he feeds you,” he continued, hand reaching up to grasp at your chin gently.

“Well, no use fretting now, it’s too late. We’ll have to start over, right from the beginning.”

Your muffled pleas went unheeded as Silco reached for the thin metal shock collar on his desk.

[oceansblvds]

closer ; coriolanus snow

pairing ; coriolanus snow x reader

words ; 3.4k

about ; you and coriolanus have never exactly gotten along, and all of that boils over at a party you're hosting. based off of this request.

warning(s) ; smut, fingering, p in v sex, not edited, mentions of choking someone out (lol)

authors note ; please feel free to request fics or headcanons or blurbs! i hope u enjoy :) kinda got carried away with this one.

Coriolanus was, for lack of a better word, obsessive. 

He was obsessive in the things that he did, the people he saw, the way he dressed, he was obsessive to the point that anyone who had even a glance as to what he was thinking would think that he was insane. It was no way to live, but the spiny, tingly feeling that rose up his spine when he felt the obsession for yet another thing growing was enough to keep him tethered in his ways. He’s a reserved, meticulous man who never let himself be seen as anything other than such, no one had ever seen him make one mistake, not since he was a young child. He was erratic, cold and calculated all at the same time. He didn’t like when things didn’t go his way, and he certainly didn’t like when he felt that someone was trying to best him. 

And that’s what you seemed to do, try to best him. All the time, you would walk into a room and all eyes would turn to you instead of him. You always had a way with your words, speaking to the hearts of people and reminding them that you were the Academy’s darling. It made him sick to his stomach, the knot twisting into a more convoluted mess within his gut until he wanted to throw up what little he had to eat that day. He had never felt this way about someone before, whatever it was, and he didn’t like it, not one bit. With you, he felt as if he had no control. With you, people didn’t fall under his spell. 

The party bustled all around, the lavish hall that it was situated in being filled with the noises of mentors and peers alike, all in celebration for the next Hunger Games. It was at your house, which pained Coriolanus, but made sense. You were always looking to help out, and it seemed to be the perfect opportunity for the Dean to ask if you and your family would host this gathering. You considered it done the moment it was asked of you, all you had to do was ask your parents for the money and for the time and you organized the whole thing. It was going perfectly. Many people came up to you, chiding about how wonderful the party was, how they hoped that they would get some of the appetizing leftovers from the snack table. You gave smiles, your laughter filling up the space that Coriolanus could hear, wanting nothing more than to smack you silly, to prove that you were not better than him. 

It was stupid, really, considering you had done nothing to prove that you were trying to humiliate him. It was all twisted in his mind. And he was determined to make things right, whatever that meant. 

He made his way to you, dressed in a pressed white dress shirt and black slacks, accenting his long legs, his usually curled hair pressed back only a bit in a styled fashion. He was handsome, there was no denying it. Your eyes met his blue ones, almost being enveloped in the sea of them as he made his way further. 

“Well then, if it isn’t the Academy’s darling,” Coriolanus said, his tone nothing but authoritative, as if he was trying to make you feel uncomfortable. You were used to his slight jabs, the way that he always seemed to want to push your buttons. You paid it no mind, not letting him have the satisfaction. “How much of daddy’s money did you have to spend to pull this off?” 

You rolled your eyes, pearled white teeth biting your tongue as you chose your words carefully. “Coriolanus, do tell me, is it your mission in life to be a thorn in my side?” A playful jab, something that you could easily spin out as being a tease if the wrong person was to hear. After all, you wouldn’t want your reputation to tank over one encounter. That was the thing about the Academy, always somewhere there was someone watching, listening. You were never alone. 

Thorns. They reminded him of his Grandma’am’s roses, how the things would get caught in your skin if you weren’t careful enough. There had been many times where he had cut himself on the barbs, the tip digging into the thin layer of his hand and drawing blood when he had gone to cut one for his outfit. He thought to himself how he wanted to be a thorn in your side, how he wanted to poke and prod at you until he drew blood, to see your perfect image falter under his touch. He chuckled at your words, the crease lines of his smile oh so evident as you looked at his stupid, perfect face. He leaned in, the smell of roses enveloping the two of you, his face almost disastrously close to your own. 

“Do you want me to be?” 

You scoffed. “Being crass now?” 

Of course, of course you dealt your hand in the same way that you always did. He would put himself out there, trying to get a rouse out of you, and you wouldn’t bite at the bait. You would simply leave him there, to play with himself, and it was so infuriating. For once, just once, he wished that he would see that perfectness in your stature falter. He wanted to see you ruined, whether or not he was the person to do it. But as soon as the thought crossed his mind, he knew that he had to be the one to ruin you. You were his, whether you knew it or not. 

You walked away from him, spinning on your perfect heels and making your way to a door, opening it and closing. It was the bathroom, one of many in your house but the one that was most accessible to the party. You needed a moment alone, to freshen up, to get Coriolanus out of your mind. This was your party, he wasn’t just going to ruin it like this by using all of his stupid words. Your hand went to your forehead, pushing some of the strands that had fallen from your perfectly styled hair back to their place, leaning in and scanning your face in the mirror for any other mistakes on your clear skin. Just as you were about to turn and make your way out, you watched as the door opened and closed just as quickly, Coriolanus standing there with his back to the door. You heard the familiar click of the lock, and the way that he looked at you made you shiver. He looked like he wanted to eat you alive. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” You asked him, moving to grab the handle but was quickly swatted away by his hand. You looked up at him, the height difference palpable, despite the heels you had on. He was so much bigger than you, he could easily overpower any move that you tried to make. “Let me through, Snow, this isn’t funny.” 

“No.” 

Your eyes squinted. “No?” 

“You know, for someone who spends hours in front of the mirror, you’re not fooling anyone,” Coriolanus said. He took a step forward, which didn’t really make such a difference in the long run. This was a big bathroom, if you really wanted you could've had a party in here with a sizable guest list. Still, you took a step backwards, wanting to keep the distance between the two of you. 

“What’s your problem, Coriolanus?” 

“You’re my problem,” He breathed out. “Always pretending to be so damn perfect.” 

You laughed. “Well, not everyone can embrace mediocrity as effortlessly as you do.” A low blow, something you knew would get under his skin and rile him up. And it seemed to do just that, because you could see his jaw clench, perfect facade that he had seemed to falter. You had caught him off guard, he hadn’t expected you to bite back with such a fiery attitude. But maybe you had just had enough of all his button pushing, of all his mindless teasing and hating on you for what seemed like no reason. You wanted to make him uncomfortable, make him know how much you loathed him. So you continued, “Jealous much? Can’t handle the fact that I outshine you without even trying?” 

Coriolanus was walking towards you before you even had a chance to move out of the way, his large body caging you in between himself and the marble counter. His hand went to your jaw, the contact of his fingertip on your skin making you heat up, a small fire burning in your chest. His grip was so hard that you were sure that it would leave a bruise. Your eyes widened, pupils blown out from the contact. You hadn’t expected for him to do this, you hated how much you liked it. How you wondered if he was this rough when he was doing other things. 

He didn’t say anything for a moment, seemingly liking the way that your doe eyes widened and looked at him, like you were a deer caught in the headlights. But his mouth opened, “You don’t know anything about me.” 

Which was, for the record, very true. You didn’t know anything about Coriolanus Snow because he seemed so keen on keeping things a secret. You didn’t know about his home life, the only thing you knew about him was what he was showing to you now, that he had a dark side that was starting to leak out of the cracks of his perfected persona. You gave a smile, a vile, venomous one that was meant to catch him off guard. “Yeah? So tell me, Coriolanus Snow, what don’t I know? Please, enlighten me.” 

He wished that you would just shut the fuck up. He wanted to put his hand around your throat and choke you until you lost consciousness, so that he could feel like he would be rid of all the sickening thoughts about you for just one moment. He thought about leaving right now, leaving while he still had some dignity left. But Coriolanus was not one to back down from a challenge, and he certainly wasn’t one to lose the upper hand. He was in control, he had to keep his control. There was no way in hell that he would let you think differently. 

The way he kissed you was bruising, like he was trying to make a mark on you forever. His teeth grazed against your lips, biting and nipping enough to almost draw blood. Coriolanus was all consuming, His one hand staying on your jaw while the other one came to wrap around your throat, disregarding his earlier thoughts and instead only squeezing a little bit, pulling you closer to him. His hips pushed into your own, you could feel his bulge through his trousers, a smirk fell on your face before he was quick to wipe it off by pushing you so much into the counter that you jumped on top of it, opening your legs and allowing him to slot in between them. 

Your hands came and wrapped in his hair, pulling on the locks of goldenness that you had only fantasized before in your dreams. They were soft, just like you imagined, and the way that you pulled on them had him groaning into your mouth, his lips leaving yours to kiss harshly against your jawline, down your neck, and onto the part of your collarbone that was exposed from your dress shirt. Teeth pressing against the soft skin that connected your jaw to your neck. You sighed out, hands moving down to his torso and surrendering into his touch as if saying do anything to me, anything you’d like.

And he did, because the second he heard that sigh come from your pretty pink lips he was determined to explore every part that he could of your body. He paid extra attention to your neck, sucking just under your chin, earning a soft moan on your part at the feeling. Your hips pressed against his and each of you breathed out, liking that feeling more than anything in the world. You hated how pliant you were in his hands, something you never thought would happen in a million years with Coriolanus Snow. And yet, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, instead pulling his head closer to your body and allowing for one of his hands to slip under your dress shirt, palm pressing against your left breast. He liked you like this, so perfectly obedient and compliant. He was going to enjoy ruining you. 

His hands pushed your pants down along with your panties, leaving you completely bare in front of him. You felt insecure, instinctually closing your legs away from him. He tutted, shaking his head and taking both of his hands to spread your legs open in front of him. He stood there looking at the curve of your hips and the apex of your thighs, eyes landing on your wet center. you looked down at him while he did nothing, only staring at you. You were completely vulnerable, insides screaming for him to just touch you. He seemed to want to take his time, from the way that his hand came and rested on the inside of your thigh while his eyes looked at your face gauging for a reaction. 

“What do you want, an instruction book?” You asked him, the brattiness and defiance in your tone that should’ve made him angry instead made him chuckle. His hand continued to reach further until his thumb pressed against your clit, making you groan at the feeling, your legs wrapping around his clothed waist. He was still completely clothed while you were completely pantsless. The bastard. He slid a singular finger into you, knowing that it would be enough to satisfy you for now, but it wasn’t enough. 

“Coriola-” 

A knock on the door made you both stop what you were doing. A voice was heard on the other end, it was your friend, wondering if you were okay since you had been in there for a while. “Y-yes! It’s fine,” You lied. “I’m just not feeling very well, I’ll be out soon!” You heard footsteps receding, and you turned your attention back to Coriolanus, who was looking down at you with a smirk. His finger was still buried in you, your pussy squeezing around his finger, wishing that he would move it. He seemed to understand what you wanted, his finger beginning to pump in and out, his thumb still pressed against your clit. The feeling was searing, something you weren’t even sure could just be described by words. 

His finger curled up in a come here motion and you almost screamed, biting your lip so that you wouldn’t give him the pleasure of knowing he had such an effect over you. He could see through your bullshit quite clearly, pushing another two fingers into you and not moving. Coriolanus had three fingers in you that he wasn’t moving, watching you squirm against his hand to create some kind of pleasure. but with his other hand he held your hips down, keeping you from moving at all. 

“I want to hear you beg for it.”

“For fucks sake, Coriolanus,” you said, eyes opening to look at him. 

His chest pressed against your own as he leaned in, “Beg. or I’ll leave you to finger fuck yourself.”

For a moment you thought that you weren’t going to do it, mostly because of your pride and ego. the pleasure that awaited you took over though and you opened your mouth to say, “please, Coriolanus. Fuck me with your fingers. Stretch me out. I need you.” your cheeks burned in embarrassment at your words, knowing that he would never let you live that down. 

“Good girl.”

He spared not a moment more, fingers setting at an unbelievably fast pace as they pumped in and out of you. His thumb massaged figure eights on your clit and you knew that you weren’t going to last long. Your head arched back, feeling him hit your g spot every single time his fingers fucked into you. Soon enough you were cumming, opening your eyes and seeing blurry vision. He kept pumping his fingers, mouth finding home on your neck to give you more marks, perfect petals like a perfect rose. You didn’t know how you were going to be able to hide all of them.

You took a minute to catch your breath and for that moment he wasn’t touching you at all made you miss his touch more than you were willing to admit. You heard the sound of pants unzipping and soon enough Coriolanus was in between your legs, this time his cock in his hands as he pumped lazily. He was big, you thought to yourself. Of course he was, considering all he had done with you so far, he was just preparing for you to be almost speared open by his cock. Incoherent words spilled from your lips, all different forms of begging for him to just push it in, and he finally gave you the satisfaction, the tip of his cock pressing into your entrance. Coriolanus pushed all the way in, inch by agonizingly slow inch, his own eyes falling shut at the feeling of your warmth around him. 

Once he bottomed out, he pulled out, pushing back in. You hissed at the feeling, not all the way used to the feeling of him stretching you out but loving it anyways. He buried himself into you like he owned you and you loved it. His hands came to your hips and thrusted in and out with such force that your whole body moved with every single rut into you. He shed no mercy, hitting that one spot every single time mercilessly. 

Your hands fumbled to touch him, anywhere you possibly could. Eventually you made your way to his back, fingernails digging into his skin enough to probably draw blood from underneath the white button up that he was wearing. You scratched up and down, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. Your breasts bounced up and down with every thrust from underneath your shirt, your mouth opened slack. The heat in the room was almost unbearable, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

He grabbed your thigh and hoisted it up, moaning at the new angle that he hit within you. Your eyes teared up with the pleasure that coursed through you, once again about to hit that brink once again. You were already pretty sensitive from the previous orgasm. His name sounded so pornographic coming from you that he tried his best to remember how it sounded. It was unlike anything he had ever felt in his life. You looked so fucking good taking him like this. He felt as if he had everything he ever wanted in the palm of his hands. And he was making you feel good, better than anyone ever had before. 

This drove his pride, thrusting animal like into you to take you to that peak again. He wanted to make you cum again. And you did, after about three thrusts from him, each one pulling out all the way and pushing in with force. his hand slipped down to rub your clit in figure eights and you came with a yell of his name into his shoulder, biting down on the fabric to try and muffle some of it so that passersby wouldn’t hear what was going on inside the bathroom. Not even two thrusts after, he was cumming, a low groan eliciting from his lips while his body stalled slightly on top of you. Each of your skins were drenched with sweat that you two almost stuck to each other. He pulled your face to meet his own and gave you a quick peck, and continued this all the way down your neck then stopping to bury his face into the crook of your neck, composing himself. 

He didn’t pull out, not right away, thinking that he had gotten all that he wanted. 

And there was no way that he could let you go now. 

taglist ;

@obaewankenobis ; @slyhersophia ; @narcissistic-siren ; lmk if you want to be added.

[elllisaaa]

no nut november - lee minho (winner)

-> pairing : minho x fem!reader

-> words count : 2.1k

-> genre : smut, etablished relation

-> warnings : dom!minho, dirty talk, praising, unprotected sex, oral (f. and m. receiving), fingering, use of 'good girl', 'kitten" and 'slut' (lovingly), overstimulation, spanking

+ the way i'm depicting minho does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction.

-> 18+ content bellow, minors dni

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> masterlist | skz masterlist | no nut november

To say Minho was confident about his chances was an understatement. Honestly, he knew he wouldn’t have much competition, except maybe from Seungmin. Still, he followed the loss of all his members like the best show he had ever seen, teasing them endlessly. Some surprises came with the bet, like Jeongin being one of the last still going after the third week of November. But overall, they were all so predictable that Minho could have guessed how it would end. 

So when he received a message from Seungmin the 30th, saying that he was out, Minho knew that he had finally won. Just two days, and he could finally do all the things he was constantly thinking about for these past weeks to you. It hadn’t been an easy win, he must say. He almost lost just once, when he was making out with you on your couch during a movie night. But he managed - God knows how - to contain himself and stay strong. 

Even though he didn’t lose control doesn’t mean that he didn’t get crazy over you for the smallest things. Like this one time when you were applying your gloss, getting ready for the date Minho had planned for the two of you. The act was innocent, no ulterior motives - of course, you were so sweet, didn’t do anything to try and make him lose - but he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering to other places. He couldn’t stop thinking about those same glossy lips wrapped around his cock, couldn’t stop thinking about those same glossy lips covered in his cum, as well as your perfect face. But these fantasies were all he would authorize himself, or else, he would have gone mad by now. 

On your side, even if this challenge was frustrating too, it was also very amusing : seeing your spoiled boyfriend, who used to get what he wanted from you immediately, struggling to keep the last pieces of his sanity together was funny. Very funny. But you knew that you wouldn’t be laughing at the end of the month, most likely screaming and crying underneath Minho. But you knew that as soon as his primal needs and yours would be fulfilled, he was gonna be the sweetest boyfriend ever. And you couldn’t wait to hold him and fall asleep in his arms.  

Therefore you weren’t surprised when you heard someone knocking at your door at midnight precisely. Minho hadn’t tell you anything but you were sure that as soon as he could, he would come and fuck you. That’s exactly why you decided to stay awake, watching your favorite film and patiently waiting for him to show up at your door. You couldn’t help the little smirk that tugged at the corner of your lips as you unlocked the door of your apartment to reveal the well-known silhouette of your boyfriend, leaning on the wall and wearing the same smile as you. 

“- Have you missed me, kitten ?

- Well, come and find out.”

It didn’t take more than that for him to grab your waist, pushing your body against his already rock hard member, and to kiss you like he needed you to breathe, like you were his oxygen. And in a sense, it was true. This month without you, without feeling your skin under his hands, without feeling your touch. This month was really what he had pictured when he imagined hell. 

“- You’re not gonna be able to walk tomorrow kitten…

- Good, because I want you to ruin me.”

You didn’t even notice that Minho closed the door until he pushed you against it, his tongue playing with yours like he wanted to win a fight he had already won anyway. He always won. And if he didn’t, it was only a moment of peace before he took the lead again. But honestly, you weren’t complaining right now : you had missed him too much to care, just like he had missed you. From the way he was groping every part of your body as he was undressing you from your shorts and hoodie, to the way he grunted when you ran your fingers through his hair. He clearly missed you as much as you did. 

“- Minho… Please, don’t tease…”

No answer came to your ears as he helped you get out of your last piece of clothing and got down on his knees. That was enough of an answer for you. You were already breathing heavily, anticipating Minho’s next move. One of his fingers ran along your clit, making you shiver and whine for more. You needed him. You needed to feel him. 

“- Already so wet for me… You missed me that much ?

- Yes, I missed you so much Min… Please, I need you….”

Your pleas were enough to convince him apparently because he immediately dived into your cunt, eating you out as if he was a man starved. A sigh left his lips when your taste engulfed him. Fuck. He missed your taste, missed your moans, missed your hands tugging at his roots, missed the way you were grinding against his face. He missed it all even if it was worth it. 

But what was even more worth it was to relieve all this pent up frustration of the past month. Yes, it was torture most of the time, but Minho must admit that getting to touch you again after so long made him want to appreciate it even more, savoring every drop of your juices as if it was the most expensive champagne he ever got to taste, and taking his sweet time, listening to your moans like his favourite song. 

You quickly felt close to the edge, wanting nothing more than cumming on his tongues. And Minho knew the tale-tell signs of your orgasm by heart : how your thighs began to shake, how you lost the rhythm of your hips, how you tugged harder on his strands of hair. And after all you did for him this month, he was more than happy to offer it to you, sucking one last time on your clit and coaxing your first orgasm out of you. By the time he got to his feets, you were almost back to reality, your chest still heaving to your hitched breathe. 

“- You okay ?”

His fingers brushed softly against your cheek, a rough contrast with how messily he was eating your pussy just minutes ago, your arousal still coating his chin and lips. 

“- Yeah… You’re just too good at this.

- Wanna see all the other things I’m good at ?”

And he did show you. He put you on your knees for him, pushing his rock hard cock until it hit the back of your throat, grinning when you gagged around him. He fucked your mouth roughly, releasing all his annoyance of the past month until you milked him dry. Then, he played with you again, his fingers plunged as deeply as possible into your cunt, hitting your sweet every time he curled them in the right angle, making you cum for the second time before he got you on all fours. 

“- Gonna be a good girl and give me one more kitten ?”

You simply moaned by way of answer, but that didn’t seem to satisfy him as all you earned was a slap that made your ass jiggle, the sound echoing through your bedroom. You couldn’t see Minho’s face, but you could easily imagine the smirk playing on his lips. 

“- Use your words.

- Yes, yes I can… Please, fuck me…

- That’s better.”

Both of you knew that the act he was putting on would drop as soon as he slid in between your wet walls. His moans were almost louder than yours, his iron grip on your hips that will certainly leave marks holding you in place. It’s been too long. Too long since he tasted you, kissed you, touched you, fucked you. And now, finally buried deep inside of you, he found himself unable to move. Every now and then, your pussy fluttered around his shaft and he groaned while tightening his grip on your waist.

“- I’m sorry, I’m not gonna last long.”

His voice was already airy, cut out by little high-pitched moans every time he thrusted back into you. And that was one of the hottest things you’ve ever heard. It was a shame you couldn’t see his face right now, but the feeling of his heavy length pounding in and out of your cunt was already enough to bring you closer to your relief. You weren’t going to last long either, having missed being fucked by him too much.

“- Don’t care… S-So good Min…”

At this point, you were fucking yourself on his cock, and Minho stared down at your ass coliding with his abs everytime you moved backwards, moaning loudly everytime he hitted your sweet spot. It really was a sight to behold, and he didn’t miss a bit of it, his gaze lingering on your cunt swallowing him whole. 

“- You’re so fucking nasty baby, bet you fantasized about that every day, didn’t you ?”

You were so out of it that you couldn’t form any coherent word, and even less sentences, only whimpers leaving your lips. Minho chuckled from behind you, picking up on his pace and holding your hips still while he rammed into you at a much quicker rhythm. 

“- I am fucking you so good you can’t talk ? Is that it little slut ?”

You moaned in approuval, reliveing in the way his body now pressed into yours in the mattress, his lips brushing against your ear everytime he talked dirty to you. Minho knew how excited that got you. He wanted you to come before him, he wanted to feel the delicious ache of you getting impossibly tight around him before cumming too. 

“- Answer, or you’re not getting what you want.

- Y-Yeah ! 

- Yeah to what ? That’s not a proper response baby.”

The sweet name paired with his hand slapping your ass was degrading, borderline humiliating, but it felt so fucking good, tightening the knot in your stomach and bringing you so much closer to your climax.

“- You’re fucking me s-so good I can’t… Ah… I can’t talk.

- Good girl. Now you can cum.”

As if you only needed his permission to do so, you reached your breaking point, screaming in pleasure and your pussy contracting so hard around him he came almost immediately, moaning your name loudly as he spilled his load deep inside of you. Both of your orgasms were so intense your visions became white, tears almost spilling out of your eyes. For a moment, the only sound breaking the silence of your bedroom was one of your heavy breathing, trying to regain some strength to move from the position you were currently in, which was becoming quite uncomfortable. 

Minho rolled off from your body, laying on your side and bringing you close to him, not wanting to leave the warmth radiating from you. You immediately cuddled against him, settling your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his intoxicating scent with an audible sigh of relief. 

“- That was undoubtedly the most powerful orgasm of my whole life.”

You giggled at his words, but you could only agree with him : it indeed was, and even if you weren’t certain that an entiere month of frustration was the better way of getting it, you were still glad for it.

“- Yeah, it was amazing but I’m gonna need a good shower.

- Does this mean round two ?”

You hit his toned chest playfully, rolling your eyes, but you didn’t miss his teasing smirk and he didn’t miss the way the corner of your lips were threatening to stretch out. 

“- That means we’re not doing that ever again. I missed you too much, it wasn’t really fun.”

Feeling you snuggle even more against him, Minho tightens his hold on you, one of his hands coming to caress your shoulders, his gaze softening. He lowered his head enough to be able to kiss the crown of your hair, burying his face inside just after, the perfume of your shampoo feeling familiar enough to totally relax him.

“- I missed you a lot too. But it was worth it seeing them losing one after another.”

You hit him again, but it only made him chuckle softly. You knew your boyfriend was very competitive, and maybe it wasn’t a bad thing after all, you thought, when you felt his hands sliding from your shoulder to your ass, squeezing them roughly. 

“- So… Round two ?”

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my works.

taglist - @bangchans-angel @its-hannjisung @3rachasninja @boi-bi-ahaha @supergoopjudgepsychich @jaiuneamesolitaiire @starsandrqindrops @iwannabangchan69 @b3tOxic @fawnpeaks @lxrii @channiesgoodgirl @imsotiredandalsonineteen @bbchangbinnie24 @chrishak @cscsi @stayconnecteed @miserya99 @puppy-minnie @binwons @yoongles2025 @thicccurls @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @linosssss @channiesbedbug @whosanaanyway @coastalmaine @soobywiththebooty (if your pseudo is crossed out, it's because i can't tag you and you'll have to change your settings)

[mattsnight]

Elevator - Chris Sturniolo

Summary: elevator sex with chris as you guys are in a hurry.

Warnings: elevator sex, oral female!receiving (i love chris giving his girl all the pleasure😣), fingering, sucking titties and all that !

A/N: my third kinktober fanfic! Make sure to check out my other fics

English is not my first language, also not proofread!

///

“Chris hurry up we’re late!” You yell at your boyfriend as you quickly put on your heels. Today you and Chris are going to look for houses around the city, which was so exciting for the both of you. Ever since you and Chris started dating you’ve been dreaming about living together. It’s not that you didn’t want to live with Nick and Matt, you just wanted to have your own little space with your boyfriend.

You rush out of your shared bedroom to be met with Chris who can’t seem to get his tie on right. A chuckle escapes your lips before you start helping him. “This is so confusing, can’t seem to do it right.” He says, completely frustrated with the fact that he couldn’t do it after watching millions of tutorials. Not even a second later you fixed it for him.

“There you go, you ready?” You say as you grab your purse. Chris nods before following.

As you enter the elevator you feel 2 hands land on your hips. Chris now notices how amazing you look in that dress. He looks up at you with puppy eyes, gently pulling at the ends of your skirt. Of course you decided to wear a short dress today. It’s black and it perfectly hugs your curves. You didn’t think for a second how hard Chris would get from even seeing you in it and now that you do realize it was a stupid mistake.

“Ma.. fuck you look so good.” He says, letting out a deep breath. He’s painfully hard now and his hands are everywhere on your body. You feel yourself getting wet too, but you gotta keep control because remember, you are looking for houses.

“Chris we cant, not right now.” You say, fixing your posture. Chris whines, not stopping with touching you. “I need you s’bad.. please.” He begs as he pulls at your hand.

Suddenly the elevator stops and you feel your stomach drop. Panic immediately fills your body as your breathing speeds up. “Fuck-“ you hear chris say as he looks for an emergency button, which he finds. He notices the change in your behavior, fingers rubbing your temple gently. “Calm down, ma.”

He presses the emergency button, silence filling the room. Chris’ hand is still on yours. You squeeze your thighs together, not only in fear, but also because you’re turned on. Chris notices, i mean how could he not? His hands move from your hand to your sides, pulling you close.

“Guess this was a sign, don’t you think?” He says, pulling up your dress at the back. His big hands gently squeeze your ass. After he pulls off your dress quickly. A loud gasp escapes your lips as he takes off your bra, his tongue swirling around your nipple already. Your hand flies into his hair, gripping tightly.

He takes off his belt, revealing his hard cock through his boxers. He takes it out as he pulls your panties to the side. Not even a second later he fully fills you up. Oh and fuck that felt amazing. He pounds into you, losing everything inside of him. Your tits bounce up and down. The grip you had on his hair moves to his shoulder, nails digging into his skin as you already feel yourself getting close. Matt notices and speeds up just a bit.

Both of you cum at the same time, not moving or anything remotely close to that. Everything feels right. As both of you recovered he pulls out of you, still panting.

He moves down to his knees, giving gentle kisses all over your body before reaching your lower stomach. His eyes move up to meet yours, asking for permission silently. You nod, starting to get desperate again. The tips of his fingers slide over your folds, earning a gasp from you.

“Chris- we need to hurry.” You choke out.

With that Chris buries his face between your thighs as he holds you tightly against the wall. And even though you’re in a hurry, it still feels so fucking good. Moans you cannot stop leave your mouth as your hands run through his hair. Chris pushes a finger inside of you, adding another one quickly after. Wet sounds and groans are the only thing you hear as you get closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck Chris im gonna cum.” You warn him.

“Cumf fforf meff.” He manages to say as his face is still buried in your pussy.

You cry out as waves of pleasure wash over you, leaving you breathless. Chris pulls away, helping you get your clothes back on.

“I think we’re good living with your brothers.”

////

Taglist: empty..

A/N: Yall i lowkey love this😭 give me ideas what to do next and of who !!

[obeymematches]

...mc biting the brothers..?

as a serial biter myself, i had the time of my life writing your request, thankyou for sending an ask ily!! sry it took me some time, i had quite a lot going on irl

GN MC, suggestive but sfw, no beta

🫦Bite him🫦

Lucifer:

You take his hand in yours and with a gentle motion you lift his hand to your mouth. You give a peck on the back of his hand and then teasingly bite him. Now you have all of his attention as he quickly turns his head in your direction.

Mc?! What is it you are trying to tell me? If you are in such a playful mood I'd rather have you for myself now.

Mammon:

You were at war. The aim was to tickle each other until one of you laughs; the loser must go and buy snacks for your movie night later that day. Then you saw an oppprtunity and took it; lightly biting his ear caught him off guard. He tilted his head and let out a laugh.

Agggh MC ya cheater!! It's not fair!! Now it's my turn to bite ya, c'me here-

Leviathan:

You live in an established relatuonship with him; the road was rocky and long but you are here. At this point he isn't afraid to kiss your lips without asking. However, this time you gently bite his lips, with a teasing look in your eyes, inviting him to your little challenge. The sudden sensation cathes him off guard, causing him to pull away.

MC- my heart almost stopped- why would you do this to me!!!!

Satan:

You and him are cuddling under a heavy and warm blanket. Very cozy, very romantic. That's when you decided to break the silence; leaning over to him and quickly licking his neck; before he could react you already bit him! Just a gentle bite, no hickey or anything like that. You saw his face turn red; he is still not the best at controlling his emotions, although he makes progress day by day.

What the- that was ticklish MC- are you hinting at something now?

Asmodeus:

As you must spend most of your time cuddling you are already familiar with his weak points, as he is with yours. He was laying on his back and you got up to grab some snacks. You lightly lifted his shirt and bit him on the side of his lower abdomen.

Ahahah MC!! How did you know I was sensitive there?! Want to do it again?

Beelzebub:

You are taking a stroll around town with him. He always makes sure to touch you if you are outside; it's a way of showing you off but protecting you at the same time. Very practical if you ask me! He sometimes puts his hand over your waist, sometimes rests it on your shoulder. This was his first mistake. As his hand was hanging on your shoulder, you folded your fingers together with his; with a swift motion you pulled his index finger to your mouth and bit him. It was a quick, playful bite!

What was that? Was it you? Is this a human habit? Do you want me to bite you too?

Belphegor:

Another easy target. As you cuddle him you lay facing him, your head in line with his. He is already closing his eyes despite you wanting to keep him awake just a bit longer. Here is your plan; playfully biting the tip of his nose. This mf though; he doesn't even open his eyes, he only smirks and pulls you even closer to him.

What are you doing MC? Gosh you are cute.

[yandere-sins]

Yan-Poll #16

Your stalker has a severe problem.

That's the conclusion you came to as you opened the door for the fifth time that day to another mailman handing you three more packages. Your living room had become unlivable, a space cluttered with cartons and the unopened remains of packages. At some point, you stopped opening them, but now they were collecting dust and destroying the comfort in your own home.

At first, curiosity had gotten the better of you. Amongst inappropriate gifts like underwear and... toys, there had actually been some useful presents. You secretly kept all the gifts that had been on your to-buy for a while and openly threw away the disgusting ones. You knew better than to accept the stalker's gifts, but since they were valuable, you couldn't help but hold on to some of them.

That was your mistake.

But looking at the neatly stacked packages, spreading from wall to wall, floor to ceiling, you realized your stalker had lost all control. You noticed brand names on the brown packages that you had only glanced at briefly while scrolling through your phone—expensive ones, too. At this point, you feared you couldn't look at anything anymore without it inevitably being sent to your home. You thought you had this situation under control, but apparently, you hadn't.

>> did you like the new necklace?

Heaving a deep sigh you looked at the countless messages, a new one popping up right on time of the delivery. Whoever he was, he was always watching. Though you ignored his constant string of texts—asking about your day, how you were feeling, confessing his love to you, wondering if you would wear his latest gifts—you knew this couldn't go on for much longer.

<< please stop

>> you finally responded :)

<< this needs to stop, I don't need all this junk!

>> but do you like it? i know you kept some of them

Biting your lip, you cursed yourself. Of course he'd notice that you didn't discard everything. That probably only encouraged your stalker to keep sending you more and more, wherever he got the money to afford it. Part of you thought, "Whatever! If he wants to blast through all that money, so be it! Might as well enjoy it!" but what about your morals?

You've been fighting so hard to live a normal life despite having this stalker. The police had given up since he was just too good at hiding his tracks, but he seemed to know everything and always be present in your life. If you let him continue like this, who knows what kind of trouble—legally and morally—you'd get into. What if this was his way of making you dependent and comfortable? This person had no qualms about intruding on your life, but what if he finally snapped? What would happen then? How much worse could this situation get?

<< anyway this needs to stop NOW

>> fine. let's make a deal: i'll send you one more gift >> if you hate it, i'll stop. but if you like it...

<< then what?

>> you'll see ;)

Your finger hovering over the keyboard of your phone, you thought about what your stalker could possibly mean. There was a good chance it would be a gift you liked, and he'd feel confident in the choices he made regarding you. But at the same time, what if it was a god-awful present? What if it was downright horrible? How far would he go, and could you possibly stomach the consequences of his actions because you allowed him to?

<< what if I refuse?

There was no answer this time. It was strange. You were starting to really get paranoid that he was plotting something terrible.

(Reasoning and discussions welcome! ♥)

[lxvsiick]

CRUSH ON HIS TUTOR | KIM WOONHAK X READER

PAIRING: younger! tutee! kim woonhak x two years older! tutor! fem! reader

SUMMARY: Woonhak has a cute crush on his two years older tutor, Y/n.

GENRE: fluff, crush, imagine

WORDCOUNT: 1.4k

A/N: just a cute short imagine about woonhak having a crush on someone who is older -- i’m still on campus and i really want to go home ( ￣＾￣) i am writing notes but at the same time thinking about story ideas so at one point i wrote down my story idea into my notes 🧍🏻‍♀️welp, enjoy!

✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧✮

Laughter echoed around the small dorm room as Leehan and the rest of the group were in the middle of a chaotic video game session. The air was light, filled with jokes and playful banter, but Woonhak barely noticed any of it.

He was sitting on the couch, controller in hand, staring blankly at the screen. His thoughts, however, were nowhere near the game. They were on her—Y/n, his tutor, and Leehan’s friend. His mind kept replaying little moments with her: the way her lips quirked up when she caught him making a mistake during their study sessions, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was concentrating.

"Why do I keep thinking about her?" he wondered, frustrated at how easily she occupied his thoughts. "She’s two years older... She probably doesn’t even think of me that way."

“Yo, Woonbaby!” Jaehyun called out, waving a hand in front of his face. “You alive over there?”

He blinked, startled, and realized all five of his friends were now staring at him. He hadn't said a word in the last ten minutes, and clearly, they’d noticed.

“Seriously, man,” Riwoo laughed, “you’ve been completely zoned out. What’s up?”

“Did you even hear anything we said?” Leehan added, raising an eyebrow as he smirked.

The tips of Woonhak's ears turned red. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to shrug off the attention. “I—I’m fine. Just... thinking about stuff.”

“Ohhh, thinking about stuff?” Taesan said with a teasing grin. “Does this stuff happen to be a girl?”

The room immediately erupted in laughter and catcalls. Woonhak's face heated up even more as he tried to wave them off, but his friends weren’t having it.

“Look at him! His ears are red!” Riwoo pointed out, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Come on, dude, who is it?”

“Yeah, spill it,” Taesan chimed in. “You got a crush or something?”

“No, I don’t!” Woonhak blurted, his voice a bit higher than usual. He knew denying it only made them more suspicious, but he couldn’t help it. His flustered reaction only fueled their teasing.

Leehan leaned back, smirking knowingly. “You know, Y/n mentioned something the other day. She said you’ve been spacing out a lot during your tutoring sessions.”

At the mention of her name, Woonhak stiffened. “She—she said that?” he stammered, his heart racing.

“Oh yeah,” Leehan continued, clearly enjoying the situation. “She said she’ll ask you a question and you’ll just sit there, staring at your notes like you’ve never seen them before.”

His friends burst into laughter again, and Woonhak wanted to sink into the couch and disappear. He could feel his face burning as he tried to play it cool. “That’s—she’s exaggerating...”

Jaehyun wasn’t letting it go, though. “Yeah? Then why’re you turning red just hearing her name?”

Before he could stop himself, Woonhak blurted out, “Did she say anything else about me?”

That made the room go silent for a split second, and then all hell broke loose.

“Aha! So there is someone!” Sungho shouted triumphantly, slapping Jaehyun on the back. “I knew it!”

Leehan grinned, crossing his arms as he gave Woonhak a teasing look. “So you’re interested in what she thinks, huh?”

“I’m not—I mean—” Woonhak sputtered, feeling more flustered by the second. His mind was racing with possibilities, wondering if Y/n had noticed him the way he’d started to notice her. He thought about the way she’d laugh softly when she caught him spacing out during their tutoring sessions, how she’d patiently explain things again even though she must have been annoyed.

“Dude, you’re so obvious,” Riwoo teased. “You’ve got it bad for her, huh?”

Woonhak threw his hands up in defeat. “Okay, fine, whatever. Yes, maybe I’ve been... thinking about her. A little.”

The room exploded into cheers and shouts of “I knew it!” and “Finally!” Woonhak sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to live this down anytime soon.

But underneath all the teasing, a small part of him wondered—What did she think of him?

✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧✮

The library was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of pages and the distant hum of air conditioning. Woonhak sat across from Y/n, his books spread out in front of him, but his attention was far from the math problem she was explaining. Instead, his gaze kept drifting back to her—how her lips moved as she spoke, the way her hair fell over her shoulder, and how effortlessly confident she always seemed.

“Are you even listening?” Y/n asked, her voice cutting through his thoughts.

Woonhak blinked, realizing he hadn’t heard a word. She was now waving a hand in front of his face, her brows furrowed in slight concern.

“Uh, yeah—sorry,” he stammered, sitting up straighter and pretending to refocus on his notes. “I’m listening.”

She wasn’t convinced. Leaning back in her chair, Y/n crossed her arms and gave him a knowing look. “You’ve been spacing out a lot today. What’s on your mind?”

His heart raced at her question. What’s on my mind? You. Always you. But there was no way he was going to admit that. Instead, he quickly waved it off, trying to sound casual. “It’s nothing, just... tired, I guess.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, clearly not buying it but deciding to drop the subject. “Alright, fine. Let’s move on to the next topic.”

As she began flipping through her textbook, Woonhak felt a surge of boldness. His mind raced with possibilities. Maybe now was the time. They were alone—or at least he thought they were. Taking a deep breath, he decided to go for it.

“Hey,” he started, his voice a bit too casual, “just out of curiosity... what do you think about younger guys?”

Y/n paused, her pen hovering over the page. Slowly, she looked up, her eyes narrowing in amusement as she caught on to his line of questioning. “Younger guys?” she repeated, a teasing smile forming on her lips.

He nodded, trying to appear nonchalant, though his heart was pounding. “Yeah, like... would you ever date someone younger?”

Her smile widened, clearly enjoying his attempt at subtlety. “Hmm,” she said, tapping her chin as though giving it serious thought. “I don’t mind younger guys—younger guys who can pass their exams, that is.”

Woonhak felt a spark of hope. His confidence surged, and before he could think twice, the words were out of his mouth. “Okay, so... if I ace my next exam, will you go on a date with me?”

The question hung in the air between them, and for a moment, time seemed to slow. Y/n blinked in surprise, and then, to his relief, she giggled softly, shaking her head.

“You’re cute,” she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Alright, Woonhak. You ace your exam, and I’ll go on a date with you.”

His heart leaped. He couldn’t believe it. A date. With her. He tried to play it cool, but his grin betrayed him. “Deal. I’ll study harder than ever.”

Just as he was about to bask in his newfound confidence, a chorus of whispers and stifled laughter erupted from behind a nearby shelf. Before he could react, five familiar faces popped out from behind the bookshelves—his group of friends, who had clearly been eavesdropping the entire time.

“Whoa, Woonbaby! I didn’t know you had it in you!” Jaehyun teased, clapping him on the back.

“Did you really just ask her out right here in the library?” Taesan added, grinning from ear to ear.

Woonhak's face turned bright red as his friends swarmed around the table, throwing in playful jabs and comments. “Shut up, guys!” he hissed, trying to wave them away. “Go away, you weren’t supposed to hear that!”

But they weren’t about to let it go. “Woonhakie's got a date! He’s in love!” Riwoo sang in a mocking tone, while Sungho pretended to swoon dramatically.

Meanwhile, Y/n watched the scene unfold with an amused expression, trying—and failing—to hide her laughter. She looked at Woonhak with a teasing smile, her eyes dancing with amusement. “Looks like you’ve got a fan club.”

Mortified, Woonhak buried his face in his hands. “I can’t believe this...”

Leehan leaned in, smirking. “You’re really going to have to ace that exam now, Woonhakie. No pressure.”

Still blushing, Woonhak groaned. “Can you guys just leave?”

His friends finally relented, walking away while still snickering among themselves. Woonhak let out a sigh of relief, but the embarrassment still burned on his face.

Y/n, clearly entertained by the whole situation, leaned forward and gave him an encouraging smile. “You’ll be fine. Just focus on passing, okay?”

He nodded, still flustered but more determined than ever. “Yeah... I’ll do my best.”

And as they returned to studying, Woonhak couldn’t help but feel that, despite his friends’ teasing, the day had turned out pretty well.

✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧✮

MASTERLIST

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, lxvsiick, 2024

[akaneoxo]

Breaking Dishes

Summary: You send your boyfriend Sukuna a text you instantly regret.

MDNI

WC: 1355

You bite your lip nervously eyeing the door to the shared apartment for probably the fifth time in the last fifthteen minutes. You fucked up. You fucked up badly. Half of you wishes you had a time machine to correct your mistakes. Like really wished. There are no sorries when it comes to your boyfriend. He believes strongly that whenever someone says something they mean it. He isn't wrong. You meant it in the moment, but certainly not now. You only said it to get him angry. The bratty part of you is still relishing in the fact you got a rise out of your usually level headed man. Your level headed man that was definitely on his way to fuck your shit up. 

You check your phone again to see no new notifications. Just the last message he sent before you squealed and tossed your phone on the bed. Standing up and walking into the kitchen you shakily pour a glass of water just to give yourself something to do. It was a petty argument. Of all the things. The fucking dishwasher is what you decide to argue about. Not barely seeing each other for the last two weeks (only in passing), not the endless late nights out, not the lack of phone calls and communication. The fucking dishwasher.

You've reminded him time and time again just to unload the dishes, He remembers to do everything except that. Cooks you dinner before heading out to work, stuffs your messenger bag with your favorite snacks before you head to your classes, takes out the trash and even folds your laundry from time to time. You probably shouldn't have even got as angry as you were in the first place.

Is it that fucking hard to unload the dishwasher Sukuna?

You watch as within the minute your message is marked as seen and within that same minute three dots jump rhythmically as he types his response.

On my way to fix that rn.

You know he's not talking about the dishwasher. 

He's talking about your attitude.

You nearly jump out of your skin when the lock on the front door turns. You suddenly hate the open layout of your apartment, Wishing there was a wall that blocked out the living room. You make eye contact with him as he locks the door behind him before stalking into the kitchen. Clearing your throat you push back some of the flyaways from your messy bun suddenly feeling cold in your pink slip nightgown. You try to damage control as he clears the living room in long unhurried strides.

“Uhm im sorry. S-shouldnt have lashed out like that. I-”

You think he's reaching for the dishwasher but he grabs you by your hips and pins you over it. The cool granite makes you shiver as he rests his weight against  you. You squeak when he pushes your legs together tightly. You try again.

“Kuna i'm really sorr”

“I dont give a shit how sorry you are” He sighs out boredly before pushing your short nightgown over your plush rear. You gasp when he squats down without warning. Warm palms on your ass spread you so far your nether lips separate and your pussy is on full display for him. “I wanna know how sorry she is about that fucking attitude.” 

You moan loudly when a familiar pierced tongue finds your clit. Tracing it lightly before he presses a wet smooch against your folds. Instead of giving your clit the attention it so desperately needs he turns his head and kisses your left thigh. You try to spread your legs and he chuckles “Mmm keep your legs closed baby” he speaks into your pussy before turning away again and kissing your right thigh. You feel him smile when you shuffle your legs a little closer. You can't help but be a little fidgetly. He has your pussy spread and hes just-

“Fuck”

Tongue fucking you. 

You try to reach for anything to keep grounded as he groans into your slick. Moving his head with tongue. Alternating between burying his tongue into your cunt and placing wet open mouth kisses around your entrance. Rising on your tiptoes and whimpering when an arm locks around the front of your thighs pulling you more fully into his face. Moving his tongue in and out your hole at a fast pace. And there's still no stimulation on your clit but it's okay. If he keeps this up you can cum like this. One of his hands is sliding up between your thighs. You barely pay mind to it too busy grinding your ass into him finding a rhythm where your practically fucking his face. He pulls away from you watching your hole clench around nothing. Desperate to be filled. His eyes drop down to your clit. Swollen and almost pulsing with need. 

Smirking he slides the hand in between your thigh higher watching you pathetically rub your clit against it. It's not really enough to get you off but it's still entertaining to watch you try. You let out a frustrated groan before stomping your foot and he checks that fast by unexpectedly sliding two fingers into your cunt and just as quickly they're gone. He thinks he knows exactly what you need when you let out a frustrated huff. 

“Quiet the temper tantrum for such a needy fucking pussy sweetheart.”

There's a loud smack on your ass before he pulls back spitting on pussy before standing. You whine when you hear him unzip his jeans and there's another smack on the opposite cheek. The pierced head of his cock finds your entrance and you feel tears spring from your eyes as a hand settles on to the back of your neck.

Your cheek is pressed into the cold granite with a squeeze. Mouth hanging open in a silent moan as he sinks into you in one fluid stroke and stills. Trembling you reach a hand behind to rest on his stomach. Freshly manicured french tips curl into his black shirt and pull him into you  because forget the trash-dishes you just missed him and his dick. You really didnt give a fuck about the dishwasher. Leaning over you Sukuna chuckles at your senseless tears. 

“Your such a fucking brat you know that?” He murmurs into your ear as you still try to adjust to him. You can barely hear him over the sound of your own heart beating so loudly. You can feel the blood rushing to your cheeks because he's not moving. He's just watching you struggle to take him. Sukuna kisses your ear before his tongue traces your upper ear. Bringing it into his mouth and sucking it loudly- exactly how you wished for him to do with your clit that's still pleading for this kind of attention despite being so full. He straightens back to his full height. “Texting me bitching about dishes when all you really want is some fucking dick.” He's pulling back slowly, dragging his cock out of your cunt before snapping back into you. Your entire body jerks when he repeats it over and over again. Continuing his pace until you can feel yourself climbing right back to that peak he so rudely denied you a few minutes ago.

A hand tangles itself into your messy bun before dragging you up so that you make eye contact with the ceiling. “My poor little girlfriend huh?” he makes an exaggerated pout at you before grabbing the hand that is still tangled in his shirt. “No one to fill her little pussy for a few days and starts acting bitchy instead telling me she misses me.” 

As loving as your boyfriend is, it's times like this that he reminds you of how mean he can be. 

Confused, you let him guide your hand down to your clit before rubbing slow circles around the bud.

“Gonna make you wish you played with this pussy tonight instead of me princess.”

Likes, comments, & reblogs appreciated 🩵 TY for reading ^.^

[eelclaw]

the protagonists of the broken code. who's rootspring

i am tbc's number 1 hater! negative thoughts below

shadowsight: other characters sometimes acknowledge that he was manipulated by ashfur, but the narrative puts all of the blame for the ashfur situation on him, neglecting that (a) he did exactly what he was supposed to do as a healer (obey and take messages from a starclan cat), and (b) the codebreaker hysteria was far more a product of clan culture than the actions of a single apprentice. he isn't treated like the victim that he is, and it is frustrating and not cathartic.

bristlefrost: what the hell does she even do. what does her spy arc accomplish or contribute (like mother, like daughter). she finds out that bramblestar isn't bramblestar far too early. she's so perfect and she has no flaws and she's so empty. i want her to be worse. how much more interesting would she be if she was sneaky and selfish? if she was loyal to the imposter because she truly believed in what he was saying? not to mention how she reciprocates rootspring's feelings with literally zero warning, and ceases to have what little character she'd had to begin with. i genuinely don't care that she dies, they did nothing to make her an engaging character. miss bristlefrost, i'm sorry they did you so bad.

rootspring: first rootpaw thinks he's weird because of his father. i hate this because i hate tree. later, rootpaw thinks he's weird because he can see ghosts. so they give him this "i just want to be normal" deal, and the clans suddenly pretend that ghosts are silly and not real. sure, rootspring and tree are the first clan cats with this specific power. and i get that the clans have very rigid beliefs, and they are afraid of anything that contradicts those beliefs, and that's interesting! but ghosts have been appearing to clan cats all the way back to tpb. fireheart tries to kill clawface at one point and he senses spottedleaf's spirit beside him, there to avenge her death. so rootspring's issue is stupid and he's nothingburger to me.

bramblestar: the arc really depends on me giving a shit about what happens to him. which i don't.

i think bramblestar is unintentionally a bad person and a great character. he proves himself by rejecting tigerstar, but he's still deeply insecure. he makes mistake after mistake (conspiring with tigerstar; hesitating to save firestar from the fox trap; forsaking his children after finding out they're not biologically his; using his power over squirrelflight as a warrior, deputy, and leader to control her), and for none of these mistakes is he held accountable (no thunderclan cat except leafpool learns that he plotted with tigerstar; he is allowed to remain deputy; his children think he was the best father ever; in every situation, squirrelflight seems to bear the consequences of his actions).

in other words, bramblestar gets chance after chance to redeem himself, and he keeps fucking it up. again, that's interesting! there is a story here about how difficult childhoods affect adults, and how powerful men are not held responsible for hurting people. except that's not how he's written. he's written as a completely good person, a brave and noble leader, and all of the clans respect him and they need to get him back.

there's a crazy amount of bramblestar worship in this arc. even rootspring, a brand new skyclan apprentice, thinks about how important bramblestar, the thunderclan leader, is, and how all the clans wouldn't be the same without him. i can't take it seriously.

graystripe: graystripe also got a crazy amount of worship. i couldn't stand reading every few paragraphs about how great he is.

side note: shadowsight, bristlefrost, and rootspring all want the same thing. they advocate against killing bramblestar's body. wouldn't it be more interesting if the protagonists had different perspectives and opinions? if they wanted different things? for example, it makes sense that shadowsight wouldn't want bramblestar dead. he feels like the only way to make up for his mistake is to recover bramblestar alive. but bristlefrost could be in favor of killing bramblestar, because the only way to make up for her mistake (supporting the imposter) is to get rid of him. putting our protagonists at odds would generate some interesting conflict.

conclusion: i also have problems with ashfur (why does ashfur try to stir up trouble with codebreaking which will certainly get him caught when he could just take over bramblestar's body and live quietly with squirrelflight), tigerheartstar, mothwing, starclan, the dark forest insta-death water, firestar possessing rootspring, the pacing (oh my god! they were debating whether to kill bramblestar for like three books! and for three more books they were running in circles in the dark forest!), etc. but i've already written a lot and i'm out of steam lol.

let me finish by saying these are kids books, and i'm not expecting them to be the cream of the crop, but there are a lot of writing choices which are incredibly misogynistic and/or completely baffling from a narrative standpoint. i still have a soft spot for this series though. dammit. okay bye