#but these convos stood out

[codenamethebird]

Honestly, I'm kind of hoping we see Melinoe's relationships fall apart a bit. The Warsong update has given us some new dialouge that's quite interesting in this regard.

We actually have Melinoe questioning things a little bit, mostly in regards to Prometheus having a point. But the moment she admits this to Hecate, she gets swiftly shut down. Hecate tells herself to not even consider it and stay true to her beliefs. Which under different circumstances would be a pep talk, but considering the context of, 'are the gods wrong in their treatment of humanity', has kind of sinister implications.

Like don't get me wrong I don't think Hecate is some secret supervillian, but she's a Titan who is part of the order of the gods. When Mel asks her why she helped Athena punish Arachne, she doesn't really apologize and basically says Arachne deserved it. For all Hecate loves Melinoe, she raised her as living weapon (which oof when Ares calls Mel that, ahhhh). She can't have her weapon against Chronos having doubts about their mission. She can't risk the weapon turning against herself.

In a similar but different path, Odysseus has some new dialogue where he's acting funny and seeming to question things. And when Mel asks him about the whole the whole god mortal thing, he blatantly avoids the question like an extreme sport. It actually made me crack up how blatant he was. And when Mel presses him, he says a very non committal 'both gods and mortals are complicated", which says nothing and everything lol. The conversation ends with him promising that he would tell her if he thought she and Hecate were doing the wrong thing.

Which if we take him at his word, still is sooooo vague. He could very much be in my opinion that Chronos is bad and needs to be defeated, but also the gods suck and he's not lying to Mel.

There's also the other option that he's just lying lol. He is Odysseus. But even beyond that, his boss and literal titan is like 20 feet away. Said Titan, who I mentioned above, shuts down any bit of doubt in Mel. He's just a shade, he has very valid reasons to keep his mouth shut.

But yes, back to my first point of this post, Melinoe's relationships possibly falling apart. In a reversal of Zag's quest bringing him closer to his companions, Mels feels doomed to tear them apart.

The mortal (ish in some cases) characters in this story as possibly being dragged towards Prometheus and his ideology. Arachne and Heracles already have issues with the gods, [Pan]Dora was screwed over by them too + her connection to Prometheus, Odysseus seems to have his doubts, and even Icarus has some dialouge of him expressing confusion at Prometheus being their enemy.

On the other end, it looks like Mel is headed in a direction of also doubting her belief in the gods, which will put her in conflict with them and their allies. I don't know what Hecate will do if Melinoe tries to work with Prometheus.

But yeah, I think it would be very fun to have Melinoe's relationships start falling apart as she grows and changes throughout the story. Lots of angst potential, of course, but interesting story developments as well.

Also in a way to make this sort of plot work within the context of how Hades 2 is played, and a different fun reversal of Hades 1, Melinoe can start keeping secrets from the people in the crossroads. Like how Zag lied to the Olympians about why he was doing his runs (especially in the epilouge), Melinoe might have to start lying to Hecate/Moros/Nemesis/etc about the exact purpose of her runs.

But yeah that might me getting a little too crazy with plot ideas haha.

[fee-phy-fo-fum]

one part of a current wip. draft is 3 pages long. not sure i like the second or third page bc they don't flow particularly comic-y but we'll see how it goes.

[jils-things]

I love my uni so much you have no idea

[killjoy-prince]

Coworker I've never talked to before just asked me if I have a condition

[angelsdean]

i can't believe dean jr's name is stitched into his overalls and that's how the audience knows his name ???? i learn something new abt the finale every year

[novasters]

“are you really gonna leave?”

“yeah, i think i am. it’s probably for the best.”

something something what if two different interpretations of the word “leave”, what if ls!kab asked the question with a “leave” that meant not being friends and/or allies anymore and ls!zam heard the question with a “leave” that simply meant leaving/ending the conversation but maybe i’m. insane. and on something.

[revvethasmythh]

still genuinely think that shadowheart and gale (in that order) have the best parallels to the durge storyline. imo actually really sad we don't get, like, any durge specific dialogues for them because their parallels are so obvious and interesting

[cabeswaterdrowned]

Sleeping Beauty metaphors in TSC - Tessa - Clockwork Angel, Lucie - Chain of Gold, Julian - Lord of Shadows

[robinwannabee]

Hey hoes,

Going through another detransition crisis

HELP :((

[gayeddiejuice]

🚨🚨 boots on the ground reporting 🚨🚨

ok just got off the phone with my friend, she is the mvp called me as soon as she clocked out while she walked to the train.

ok. first things first i asked. we’re they nice? and she said YES she said they were probably the easiest table anyone had she felt bad for everyone else cause she kept seeing all the handlers running back and forth and she was just chilling pretty much. she said they dinner was pre ordered but they didn’t eat much of it cause they probably ate at the pre party event. she was also like “did you know oliver is vegan?” LOL anyways. as the main handler the job is to make sure the vips have everything they need, so for example she would take all their food orders and then send it to the kitchen and then there’s a team of waiters who bring the food, the handler never leaves the table you have to be there in case they need anything.

she said since their team preordered most of the food it made her job so much easier, she basically just stood by their table all night just in case they needed anything. she did order lots of drinks tho she said they drank A LOT 😂😂 but it was mostly for all the people that kept coming over to their table, apparently they were super popular people from other shows kept coming over to talk to them. also lots of the other guests which is mostly just the advertisers, that’s the whole point of the party abc/disney has all these celebs there to mingle with advertisers to get them to sell stuff on their network. and she said everyone wanted to come to the 911 table!!

after the dinner portion the actual party starts and that’s when things get hectic cause the vips always scatter and if you’re their handler you gotta know where they all are at all times. i do not miss this job btw it gave me major anxiety.

during the party they pretty much stuck together which made her job so much easier and she said they all remembered her name when she only told it to them once when she introduced herself. listen she doesn’t know anything about this cast she kept calling them the girl and the asian guy or the two hot guys. which. yall. she said they were all extremely beautiful she said she kept blushing cause ryan (she fell in love with him btw) kept calling her by her name and asking her questions and he kept organizing the plates and glasses on the table to make it easier for the wait staff to pick up.

other than that she said later in the night she kept losing track of them cause again they were so popular 😂😂 mostly aisha, she said she seemed to be friends with EVERYONE and she said, i repeat she knows nothing about rpf she didn’t know what her words would mean, she said ryan and oliver (the two hot guys) hung out together the whole night especially once kenny left, she said he left at like 8 right after dinner, and aisha kept going to talk to other people but ryan and oliver stuck together all night. I said oh im so sure. 🤭

that’s pretty much it, i asked if she could hear their convos and she could but she didn’t really pay attention cause she didn’t recognize any names. she did say that they were all cracking jokes all night and they laughed a lot which idk warms my heart 🥹🥹

btw ryan and oliver did leave together and i think they were going to either go somewhere else with other people or they were having like an after party at the hotel? cause they kept telling people yeah we’ll see you “after” she didn’t really catch where “after” was but when they said bye to aisha ryan said “see ya at the hotel” and oliver told her to not take too long 😂😂 so idk I guess they’re still partying.

[domm1etae]

Can’t Say It Out Loud

f!reader x friend yunho

oneshot | mdni

2.1k

What was supposed to be a chill night catching up with your friend from school you both used to go to Yunho turns into way more when a tipsy convo about a dream he had... gets real

nsfw tags under

f/m, vaginal sex, teasting, dirty talk, kissing, top yunho, bottom reader, friends to fucking?

author's note: long time no see my reader x idol lovers ♡♡

Knock, knock, knock.

You adjusted the hem of your oversized t-shirt, wiping your slightly damp palms on your thighs before walking to the front door. A rush of nervous excitement bloomed in your chest as you opened it—there he was.

Yunho stood on your welcome mat, his broad shoulders rising with each breath, a small grin tugging at his lips. His hair was styled in his usual laid-back way, and he carried a six-pack of beer in one hand, the other already outstretched for a hug.

“Hey, roomie-for-a-night,” he teased as he wrapped his arms around you tightly. “Damn, this your new place? You really out here adulting.”

You laughed into his shoulder, your nose brushing against the soft fabric of his hoodie. “It’s still a mess, but yeah, welcome to my semi-unpacked kingdom.”

He stepped inside, gaze flicking over the boxes stacked in the corners, the half-assembled bookshelf, the TV precariously perched on a makeshift stand. “I dig it. It already feels like you.” He kicked off his shoes and dropped onto your couch like he owned it, stretching his long legs across the cushions. “You didn’t lie about snacks either. You go hard.”

You rolled your eyes fondly and walked back to the kitchen. “I literally told you to bring the drinks and nothing else. I’m carrying this friendship on my back.”

He laughed, cracking open a can. “I bring the charm, though.”

“Oh God.” You snatched the drink from his hand with a mock glare and handed him another. “Shut up and drink.”

The two of you settled on the couch, the soft background noise of some random comedy show playing as the first sips of beer warmed your cheeks. It didn’t take long for the laughter to flow—easy, natural. Yunho had always been like that for you. A constant in your life, even when everything else felt like it was shifting beneath your feet.

A couple of beers in, you both were sprawled across the couch, bodies nearly tangled. Yunho’s thigh was pressed against yours, and your hand casually rested near his knee without even realizing it. The alcohol buzz blurred the lines between comfortable and something more.

“I missed this,” Yunho murmured, his voice softer now. “Hanging out. No schedules, no school deadlines, no bullshit.”

You turned your head to look at him, his cheek resting against the back cushion, eyes heavy-lidded. The golden warmth of the lamp softened the angles of his face, but it couldn’t hide the way he’d grown into himself since school ended—he looked older. Sharper. Handsomer.

“I missed you too,” you said quietly, and you meant it.

There was a pause, the kind that didn’t feel awkward but… charged. His gaze shifted, and you realized he was looking at you too. Really looking.

You blinked and looked away, flustered. “Don’t go getting all sentimental on me. I’m tipsy, I might cry.”

Yunho chuckled. “You always say that. One beer and you’re like a baby deer on ice.”

You reached out to playfully smack his arm, but your hand lingered for a second too long on his bicep. Solid. Warm.

The silence returned, only this time, it was heavier. Denser.

“Y/N,” he said, quieter now.

You glanced up, heart ticking faster at the tone in his voice.

“I, uh…” he scratched the back of his neck. “I had this weird dream the other night.”

That made you sit up slightly, curiosity piqued. “Okay, do tell.”

He looked sheepish but amused. “You were in it. And… it wasn’t exactly PG.”

Your eyebrows shot up.

You laughed, partly out of surprise and partly to shake the sudden wave of heat rushing through you. “Wait—like, sexy dream?”

Yunho bit his lip, chuckling into his drink. “Yeah. Didn’t mean for it to happen, but… I dunno. Ever since then I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

Your stomach flipped. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol, the way his voice dipped lower, or the fact that you had your own share of secret, blurry thoughts about him.

You leaned in slightly, teasing. “What happened in the dream?”

He gave you a look. “You really wanna know?”

“Only if you really want to tell me.”

He hesitated. Then, with a deep breath, he said, “You were on your knees in front of me. Touching me. Kissing me. And it felt… real. Like, really real.”

Your breath caught. You tried to swallow your nerves, but your mouth had gone dry. He wasn’t joking. His eyes were locked onto yours now, searching.

“I’ve thought about it a lot since then,” he murmured. “And honestly? I was hoping… maybe…”

He trailed off.

You didn’t let him finish.

Instead, you leaned forward and kissed him.

Soft. Hesitant. Testing.

He froze for half a second—then melted into it. One hand found your waist, the other cradled your face as he deepened the kiss. It was slow, unhurried. Not lust-filled—not yet. Just the overwhelming relief of finally crossing a line that had blurred for far too long.

You pulled back slightly, eyes wide, breath shallow. “I’ve wanted this too. I just didn’t think…”

Yunho pressed his forehead against yours, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “Then let me show you.”

He kissed you again, this time with more urgency, more heat. You gasped softly against his mouth as he slid a hand beneath your shirt, fingers brushing the skin of your lower back. The contact sent sparks racing up your spine.

“Bedroom?” he whispered, his voice strained with restraint.

You nodded.

In the quiet hush of your bedroom, the air was thick with anticipation, the silence only broken by the sound of your mingled breaths and the soft rustle of fabric as Yunho gently pressed you back against the bed. The light from the hallway spilled in faintly through the cracked door, casting shadows over his face—soft and golden, like candlelight flickering across skin.

He hovered over you, one knee sinking into the mattress, his fingers reaching to brush a loose strand of hair from your face. His hand lingered, cupping your cheek, thumb trailing over your bottom lip. You caught it between your lips and kissed it, eyes never leaving his.

“You’re sure?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper, like he was afraid any louder might shatter this fragile moment.

“Yunho,” you whispered back, lifting your hand to cup the side of his neck, “please. I want you.”

He leaned in, kissing you again—slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world. His lips were soft, a contrast to the way his hands began to explore, sliding from your face to your collarbone, down the sides of your torso as if he was trying to memorize you. The kiss deepened, breaths becoming heavier. His tongue licked softly into your mouth, coaxing a quiet moan from you.

Your hands fumbled at the hem of his sweatshirt, fingertips brushing warm skin as you pushed it up. He pulled back briefly, sitting up on his knees so you could tug it off completely. His toned stomach flexed as he moved, shadows outlining the soft dips and curves of muscle. Your palms slid up his chest, enjoying the feel of his warmth under your touch. His breath hitched when you leaned up to kiss along his sternum, your lips grazing the sensitive skin there.

He leaned down again, helping you out of your own shirt. His eyes flicked down your body reverently, mouth parted slightly as he took in the sight of you. He kissed your shoulder first, then lower—his lips brushing the tops of your breasts, hot and deliberate. His hands spanned your ribs, thumbs stroking slow, hypnotic circles into your skin.

Your bra was discarded next, and Yunho paused, as if needing a second just to process. “God, Y/N…” he murmured, trailing kisses over your chest, his tongue teasing one nipple before moving to the other. He groaned low in his throat at the way your body arched into him, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging gently when the sensation overwhelmed you.

His hands moved lower—along your waist, over your hips, fingertips skimming under the waistband of your shorts. You lifted your hips to help him slide them down, underwear with them. He kissed your thighs as he went, holding you open just slightly with his hands on your knees, eyes locked on yours. His lips ghosted over the inside of your thigh, hot breath sending goosebumps across your skin.

Then he leaned back, tugging off his sweatpants, revealing the growing bulge in his boxers. You bit your lip as your eyes traced over him, watching the way his cock strained against the fabric. He caught your gaze and smiled, a little bashful, but mostly turned on by your reaction. He pulled off his boxers, and you watched as his length sprung free, thick and flushed.

You reached for him, your palm wrapping around his cock, stroking slowly. Yunho hissed at the contact, his hips stuttering forward into your hand.

“Fuck… Y/N,” he groaned, his hand reaching out to steady himself on the headboard. His head dipped, pressing kisses along your jawline and down your neck as your hand worked him, thumb swiping over his tip to collect the precum beading there.

He couldn’t take much more.

Yunho shifted over you, nudging your thighs open with his knees. His cock rested against your core, sliding through your slick folds. The pressure made your toes curl, and you grabbed at his arms, eyes fluttering shut.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he murmured, lining himself up at your entrance. “At any point.”

“I don’t,” you whispered, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I want you. Please, Yunho.”

He pushed in slowly, his thick cock stretching you open inch by inch. Your nails dug into his back, your breath catching in your throat as your body adjusted around him. He was big—so much bigger than you’d imagined—and every movement made your walls flutter.

“Oh my god…” you gasped, your arms slipping up around his neck, pulling him in closer. “Yunho…”

His head dropped to your shoulder as he groaned into your skin. “Fuck… you’re so tight… so warm.”

He stayed still for a moment, letting you both breathe, his cock buried to the hilt. Then, with a deep exhale, he pulled out halfway and rolled his hips back into you, slow and controlled.

Your fingers clawed at his shoulders as he began a steady rhythm, fucking you in smooth, deep strokes that made your back arch off the mattress. His hands grabbed your thighs, spreading you wider, pushing himself even deeper.

“You feel like heaven,” he grunted against your neck. “Better than anything I ever dreamed of.”

Your moans spilled freely now, mingling with the soft creak of the bed and the slick sounds of your bodies moving together. His kisses were feverish—along your throat, your collarbone, your mouth—like he couldn’t get enough. His hands never stopped touching you, sliding from your hips to your waist to your breasts, squeezing and exploring as if trying to learn every inch of you by heart.

When you felt your orgasm approaching, it was sharp and sudden, a heat pooling low in your belly.

“Yunho—God—Yunho, I’m close,” you cried out, hips rocking up to meet his.

He reached between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight, firm circles as he thrust harder. “That’s it, baby… come for me. Let me feel you.”

You shattered under him, body convulsing as your orgasm ripped through you, pulsing around his cock. You sobbed out his name, your legs locking around him as pleasure rolled through you in waves.

“Fuck, Y/N—” Yunho moaned, his hips stuttering as he chased his own release. “I’m gonna—fuck—”

You grabbed his face, kissing him hard as he came inside you, his cock twitching deep within. His hips rolled through it, drawing it out as his breath came in ragged gasps against your mouth.

For a long time, neither of you moved.

Then he gently pulled out, murmuring apologies when you whimpered from the overstimulation. He leaned down to press soft kisses across your chest, your shoulder, your cheeks, and finally your lips.

“You were… incredible,” he breathed, brushing your hair from your damp forehead. “You always are.”

You smiled, dazed and glowing. “That was more than I ever imagined.”

He pulled the blanket over your bodies, tucking you into his side. His fingers idly traced your arm as he whispered, “You were always more than just a friend to me. I just didn’t know how to say it.”

You cuddled into his chest, your heart still fluttering, your body sore in the most satisfying way.

“Maybe you don’t have to say it,” you whispered. “Just… stay tonight.”

He kissed the top of your head, pulling you tighter against him.

“I wasn’t planning on leaving.”

[shadyvoidhologram]

This is so true!

The loveliest memory I have is from my first new year's eve after coming out as trans, I was on my way to my grandma's by foot (it's not far from where I was staying) when a man as old as my old pops saw me and with a big smile went "Ooh! You youngs look so gorgeous these days! Reminds me of my good old days with the boys, go get them son!"

And I think abt it every day, it makes me smile.

you guys should really try talking to older people sometimes. like anyone over the age of forty. it would cure you i swear

[badbtssmut]

Reckless and sweet

What if you are equally in love with two guys and really can’t choose? You date them both. But when Taehyung and Jungkook find out about you playing them, they decide to dick you down together, you were the one greedily taking two dicks anyway, so what’s the problem?

Contains: attempt at porn with plot, implication that fortune tellers don’t work, reader will get caught so prepare for some feelings of anxiety, fear, etc, the guys tease reader when she’s caught, reader is dating them both without them knowing, text AU mixed with story writing, reader is a cute coquette girly, some angst, reader will have sex with both guys

Smut JK: Missionary, pussy licking and fingering, his face in her pussy

Smut Tae: riding, boobplay, from behind

Smut both: taking turns, blowjobs, missionary, reader is told she has a slutty face, dirty talk, they both cum in her, boobplay

Admin note: make sure to open the images, tumblr might crop some of the convos

“What brings you here, dear?”

"I can't choose between two guys. I… need help."

The fortune teller nodded knowingly, her fingers shuffling the tarot cards. "The cards will guide us," she said, spreading them out in a maze like pattern. "Let us see what the future holds for your heart."

You watched the fortune teller as she turned over the cards, one by one, the flickering lantern light illuminating each card. "There it is.” She tapped the card. “This card stands for “soulmate” and in combination with this card, it leads to…” Her hand inched closer to the two photos you had laid out. "I see, I see. This card shows that this young man is the one for you." She tapped on the photo. "The cards don't lie."

"Oh…” You slumped into your chair, a little disappointed.

“You seem disappointed, were you hoping for the other man?”

“No, that’s… not it. It’s nothing.”

Why tell her that this is your fifth attempt today to consult a fortune teller? And that everyone gave you a different story.

You stood up and paid her for her service. "Thank you for your help, Madam. I will take your words into consideration."

You weren’t a bad person, really. You didn't seek Taehyung and Jungkook out with the intention to cheat on them; all you desired was an unbiased answer, just a little something to ease your indecisiveness and help you decide. But… the results of all the tarot readings were inconclusive.

Your best friend told you to pick already and not lead them on any longer.

But that was easier said than done.

Your best friend wouldn’t understand, she isn’t you, she doesn’t experience the guys the same way you do— you were convinced if she had the same predicament that she would do the same thing you did.

But she didn’t have the same predicament, she had her soulmate already. So, you wouldn’t expect her to understand.

You stared at the phone in your hand, your thumb hovering over the texting app that will connect you to either Taehyung or Jungkook.

Which would it be?

You let out a sigh, putting the phone down.

Why did this have to be so difficult? You couldn’t recall the last time you had to make such a damned difficult decision.

Then, the doorbell rang, ripping you out of your focus. You got up and headed for the door, and once you opened the door, you were met by the delivery driver.

"Good evening, Miss. I have a package for you."

"Thank you.” You accepted the package and closed the door. You looked at the package and noted that the sender was Kim Taehyung.

“Gosh, he’s so sweet.” You smiled. He knew that you had been feeling blue lately and must’ve decided that he wanted to cheer you up a bit.

But if he knew the reason for why you were down, he would’ve probably smashed and broken this present in a thousand pieces.

You opened the package, carefully, not wanting to rip the packaging, and took out the present inside.

It didn’t take long for you and Jungkook to retreat to the bedroom after you arrived at his place, and you were soon lying naked on his bed, his tongue exploring every inch of your pussy, his fingers buried deep inside you. Your legs shook with anticipation, a soft moan slipping from your lips as your hands tangled in his hair, pushing his face deeper into your pussy.

“I love how wet you get for me. All soaked and ready to be fucked," Jungkook flicked your clit with his tongue, before he moved away and started to pump his errection. His fingers were still inside of you, his fingers curling and hitting that sensitive spot deep within.

"O-oh!” Your body curved along with his movements.

“Yeah? That’s a nice spot, hm? Like it right there, feels good there?”

You could only nod, your voice trapped in your throat.

Jungkook continued to finger you, his thumb circling your clit, and you felt your orgasm build up. However, before you could hit your climax, Jungkook pulled away, and replaced his fingers with something much better.

He slowly thrust into you, filling you up, and his head dropped into the crook of your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin. "Ah, fuck."

You were a moaning mess underneath him, your eyes closing as the pleasure intensified. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. The both of you didn’t speak; simply enjoying each other's bodies connecting.

Jungkook's thrusts increased in speed and power and you could feel the familiar coil tighten again, your body arching as you cried out.

"Close, close…” You panted.

"Come, baby. Let it all out," he whispered in your ear, leaving kisses on your neck.

That was all you needed, and your orgasm came crashing down, a loud moan slipping from your lips.

Jungkook wasn’t far behind, riding out your waves of orgasm until he, too, came.

After the sex, Jungkook went to the kitchen to prepare dinner and you stayed in bed for a few minutes, and decided to check your phone for any notifications, and you saw a message from your best friend.

You joined Jungkook in the kitchen, sitting at the kitchen island as you watched him cook. His broad shoulders and toned back faced you, and he was only wearing his joggers which he put on after the sex.

It was a nice distraction from the earlier chat you had with Ara. Part of you thought that you went too far, but another part of you felt like it was justified to respond the way that you did. She was constantly pushing you to choose already, but she failed to realize just how difficult it was for you to choose. Both men were absolutely perfect and there was zero fault in them… and that was the whole problem. You had waited for one of them to mess up; to start an argument with you, tell you they were an ex felon, kick a puppy, yell at a service worker, shove an old lady… ANYTHING. But their faults never came, not once have they slipped up and made you think that you wanted to break up with them.

Ara's words played over and over again in your mind.

You are doing this to protect both men's hearts. Yes, that's it.

“Babe?” Jungkook's voice interrupted your thoughts, and you realized that you were staring at the table. He had set the plate in front of you and sat opposite of you, but he noticed you neither acknowledged the food or him. “You okay?”

You blinked and looked up, seeing the concerned look on his face. You managed a smile, "Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry… I just was thinking of something.”

Jungkook was smart enough to know that something was bothering you, so he didn’t let go, and pressed; “What’s going on?”

You hesitated, looking down at your food, pushing the noodles around with the chopsticks.

Jungkook reached across the table and held your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Just... tell me what's wrong. Maybe I can help."

You looked up at him. Your expression softened, and you sighed, deciding that you needed to tell him what was going on.

"Well..." You started, your heart pounding against your chest. “I was speaking with my best friend and…” You took a deep breath, gathering the courage to tell him the truth. You were really going to do this, weren’t you? It felt somewhat… relieving to do this. No more sneaking, no more having two accounts, no lying or cheating anymore.

“She disapproves of our relationship because we are moving too fast.”

You couldn’t do it.

You were such a coward.

“Oh, I am sorry babe, what do you think? Are we moving too fast? I mean, we are in a good place right now, right?” Jungkook asked.

You felt a little bad for making him worry, so you shook your head and gave him a smile.

"We are in a good place. Don't worry about it, she's just worried and doesn't know you."

"Should I meet her?” Jungkook asked.

“Meet who?”

“Your friend, silly.”

Oh boy. If he was meeting her, there was no telling what could happen. What if Ara ran her mouth? What if she told him everything? What if she messed up? No… it was too risky.

“She’s… an exchange student abroad, but if she ever visits home, I’ll let you know, and we can meet up. How about that?"

The lies just kept piling up…

“I missed you.” You murmured against his lips.

“I missed you too.” Taehyung deepened the kiss, his hands slipping underneath your shirt. His touch made your skin tingle and your stomach flutter, his hands were warm and big and his fingers spread over your back, pressing you closer against his chest.

“Did you?” You asked, between kisses.

Taehyung smiled, his tongue caressing your lips, before it slipped into your mouth. You let out a moan, your hands running up his toned arms.

His hands trailed further up, cupping your breasts and you gasped, breaking the kiss, but he didn't give you time to breathe, his mouth capturing yours again. His tongue was dancing with yours and you were left breathless when he eventually broke the kiss, his hands kneading your breasts.

“Mhm, I did. A lot. You are always on my mind. When I wake up, when I go to sleep, during work, when I am working out, in the shower, even when I eat, you are always on my mind, y/n"

His confession made your heart explode, and you felt heat rush to your cheeks, you didn’t expect that answer.

Taehyung took your hand and placed it on his groin. "See what you do to me, hm?" He said with a smile.

Soon, you were riding his cock, his errection peeking through the open gap in his pants, and your panties dangled onto your ankles as you rode him. His hips on your waist and he was guiding your body, making you move the way he wanted.

"I love it when you fuck yourself on my cock," he grunted. “Keep going, love.”

And that you did, until you physically weren’t able to anymore, and Taehyung took over, laying you down onto the bed, and you laid on your stomach, your hips propped up with a pillow as he started to fuck you from behind.

You couldn’t help the cries escaping your mouth, as he pounded into you, his cock hitting your g-spot with precision. Your fingers gripped onto the sheets, your face buried into the mattress.

His hands were on your waist, holding you steady as he fucked you senseless, and you could hear his heavy breathing. Then, one last pump, and he came first, letting out a deep groan.

He slowed down for a moment, before riding out his orgasm in you, until you came. Your orgasm came crashing down on you, and you whimpered and cried around his cock, and as you laid there trembling, you asked yourself; how were you ever supposed to choose between them?

It didn’t matter.

You didn't want to choose between them.

You couldn’t choose between them.

And like that, time passed by. The two of them showered you with gifts, attention, love, and affection nonstop, every day. You were constantly on the fence, debating whether you should stop or not… but it all just felt too good, you couldn’t imagine life without either of them.

The snow crunched underneath your feet, the cold air brushing against your skin as you walked through the snow covered park, and it was getting colder by the minute. Your hands were shoved into the pockets of your coat to keep you warm.

“Are you cold?” Taehyung asked, at which you nodded. He took your hands and held them. “Do you want to go in the Gondola lift?” He nodded his head in the direction of the ski lifts, and you glanced over.

“Yes, that looks fun, let’s!” You followed him, holding his hand. You stood in the queue for a few minutes, wrapping your arms around Taehyung and resting your head against his chest as you snuggled up to him.

Soon, it was your turn and Taehyung held the door open and you scooted right next to the window, glancing out. The view wasn’t that noteworthy yet but you were sure that would change soon.

“There, now we are all together. The three of us."

Huh? You turned your head and looked at him. Taehyung stepped in, and sat next to you, and you noticed the other man standing in the doorway.

Jungkook.

A pang of happiness temporarily shot through your chest, you had missed him and you loved seeing him again, but then a realization dawned on you; they knew about each other.

And that realization quickly morphed into fear, and your heart began to pound.

You were caught.

You jumped up and tried to make a run for the door, but Taehyung grabbed your wrist and pulled you down, forcing you back down on the bench. “You’re staying right here.”

“N-no, I want to go, no!”

Your gaze flickered back and forth between them, and you felt like a trapped animal, your body frozen as your mind ran wild.

Jungkook locked the door behind him and sat down to your left, while Taehyung sat on your right; you were sandwiched in between them.

No, no, no, this couldn’t be happening.

“Why are you so shy all of a sudden, babe? Usually you are so talkative, aren’t you?" Jungkook mocked.

Your eyes filled with tears, and you lowered your gaze, ashamed. Afraid to look them in the eyes.

“Don’t you like our surprise? We prepared it all for you, love.” Taehyung placed a hand on the back of your neck, his touch causing you to flinch, and he forced you to look at him. “I thought you wanted us both, and now that we are here, you refuse to talk to us? Is that how it is?"

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t answer. You didn’t know what to say, what to do. "Answer him," Jungkook's tone was icy, and your body shook, you were petrified, unsure of what they would do to you. And just like that, you kept your gaze on your lap, and you managed to not say a word all the way back to the end point of the ski lift ride. At the end of the ride, Jungkook and Taehyung guided you back to the cabin, where things between the three of you would change forever.

“If you want two cocks so bad, then fucking take them both.”

You were on your knees, in between the two of them, as they took turns thrusting their dicks into your mouth, one after the other. Their moans filled the room, along with the occasional gagging sound that you made.

Your body was in overdrive; it was as if your brain couldn’t comprehend that your two favorite men in the world were face fucking you both right now.

You didn’t expect it but… you were soaking wet.

“That’s it, show Taehyung how we always do it when he’s not around, don’t be shy baby.”

Taehyung pulled his cock out, and now Jungkook was the one in your mouth. You drooled over his cock, and his hand rested on the back of your head, pushing himself further inside, his errection hitting the back of your throat.

Taehyung took your hand and wrapped it around his cock, and you started to rub him off as you continued to suck Jungkook off. The two men groaned as they hovered over you, and you didn’t think you could hold it any longer.

“I’m wet, really wet, need cock, please.”

At that, Taehyung pulled you onto your feet and picked you up, before laying you down on the bed.

“Wet? Show us then, babe.” Taehyung cooed, pulling your clothes off you, and now Jungkook was in the room as well. “Spread those legs, show us how wet you really are. Do you need cock?"

"Yes, yes, please!" You spread your legs wide, exposing yourself to them, and having both of their eyes set on your pussy made you even wetter.

"This pussy is so greedy, and so fucking needy, it's dripping. Look at that.” Taehyung’s finger lingered down your folds, teasing your entrance. “So wet for us.”

Jungkook got onto the bed, deciding he’d be the first to give you what you want; cock. He hovered above you and slipped his cock in, and you moaned as his length filled you up. You wrapped your arms around him, as he thrust in and out.

This must be a dream.

Taehyung placed a hand on your cheek and turned your face to the side, his hardened cock staring right back at you, and you opened your mouth, inviting him in.

Both men fucked you, and your mind was completely blank.

Taehyung chuckled. “Damn, that pussy really is wet huh, those sounds are something else."

You couldn’t reply, as your mouth was stuffed with his cock, but you knew exactly what he meant, the lewd sounds your pussy was making was embarrassing, but also turned you on more and more. Taehyung’s hands trailed to your chest, kneading your tits. “You love it, don’t you? When we both fuck you. That slutty face tells me everything I need to know, and I bet this greedy pussy is going to come all over his cock soon, won’t it?" He pulled out his cock out of your mouth.

“Yes.. love it.” You tilted your head back, your back arching as Jungkook started hitting you in a good spot. “O-oh…”

Taehyung moved next to Jungkook and his tip teased against your swollen clit, the head rubbing against it, and that nearly sent you over the edge.

“A-ah!” You gripped onto the sheets, as the knot in your lower belly tightened, and your body tensed up, your pussy walls clenching around Jungkook’s cock.

“That’s the spot?” Jungkook teased, gripping onto your thighs to keep you in place as he picked up the pace.

“That does seem to be the spot, look at her face, she loves that spot.” Taehyung started to smack your clit with his cock, and that sent you over the edge, the knot in your stomach exploding, and you came all over Jungkook's cock, a loud cry escaping your mouth. As you came, your pussy milked his cock, hard, and he couldn’t last much longer, his cum shooting deep inside of you, Jungkook rocked his hips back and forth and only stopped when he was sure that every seed was spilled inside of you.

Jungkook pulled out, making way for Taehyung, who eagerly lined his cock up to your entrance. Jungkook came to lay down next to you, pressing his lips against yours as Taehyung pushed every inch into you, filling you up again.

"That's it, take that cock, love, Jungkook really warmed up that pussy for me, hm? It's squeezing my cock, so tight."

Taehyung fucked you with fast and deep strokes, his cock sliding in and out with ease as you were soaking wet, drenching the sheets underneath you. Jungkook started to kiss your tits instead of your lips, his tongue swirling around your nipples.

Your body was completely overwhelmed by pleasure, your head thrown back, and your mouth hanging open, your cries filling the room. You felt Taehyung grab your leg and push it over his shoulder, and pull you closer, his cock hitting deeper and faster, and you didn't know how much longer you'd last.

"Please, more, don't stop, don't stop." You begged, your breathing becoming faster.

Jungkook kissed your neck, "Such a greedy pussy, and it loves being fucked, doesn't it?" He grabbed your hand, holding it as you gripped onto it.

"Mhm, it loves it." You whispered, glancing at both men. Oh they were so perfect, they were everything you ever dreamed of, and more.

"Tell him you love it, baby." Jungkook encouraged.

"L-love it, so much, ah, ah…” You whimpered as Taehyung picked up the pace, your body bouncing up and down the bed, your tits bouncing all over the place, and it was all too much. You reached your high, another orgasm rushing through your body, and you cried as your pussy clenched around his cock.

"Yes, yes, that’s it…” Taehyung grunted, his pace now slow and deep, wanting to feel your pussy massage his cock and then he finally released himself, his hot seeds filling you up, and he rode out his orgasm, until there was nothing left to give.

“Oh…” You whimpered, turning to your side, completely exhausted, closing your eyes for a moment.

In the end, you didn’t have to choose.

[vampzity]

can I request a scenario with san. his girlfriend sending him pictures of her grabbing boots in the mirror teasing her naughty gym outfit

ofcc anon!! <3 he’s a little short headcanon for you ^^

—

tease me | C.SN

pairing: bf! san x gf! reader

as much as you love taking photos at the gym, you just love teasing your boyfriend with them more.

[warnings]: teasing, nudes, mentions of masturbation, dirty talk?, pet names (baby, princess), san’s possessive over MC

word count: 796

You stood in the bathroom mirror, taking a couple of progress pictures to keep for yourself so you could track your journey. You admired your new gym outfit and how it hugged your curves. Your sports bra allowing your tits to spill out only slightly and your spandex hugging the roundness of your ass.

You smirked at your figure, leaning forward in the mirror. You held your phone up to take a quick picture. Your free hand grabbed onto your tit, pushing it up gently to squeeze them closer together. You went into your conversation with San, picking out the best ones and sending it straight to him as you finished freshening yourself up in the bathroom.

Ping

You grabbed your phone, unlocking it to see his delightful message toward you.

[3:47 PM] Sannie🍓: You think that’s funny?

You smiled, leaning against the bathroom counter as your thumbs worked to text him back.

[3:48 PM] You: what? you don’t like my outfit?

[3:49 PM] Sannie🍓: Don’t play dumb with me. You know exactly what you’re doing.

[3:50 PM] You: and what exactly are you gonna do about it?

San sat in his room, annoyed yet turned on by your boldness toward him. He shifted his position in his chair, his hand sitting atop his shorts as he felt his member rise in his pants.

You were so hot— he isn’t afraid to admit that, yet it made him overly possessive knowing other men could be eyeing a body like yours. Eyeing it the same way that he was. Craving it the same way that he was.

[3:53 PM] Sannie🍓: You tryna get my attention, or the attention of guys there?

You furrowed your eyebrows at his text, knowing that it was only his attention, his opinions that you truly cared for. You really didn’t pay much attention to others— especially men, around you.

[3:54 PM] You: why else would I send you a picture?

San brushed his palm over the bulge in his shorts, a soft groan escaping him as he rubbed his clothed member slowly. You were barely naked, yet such a picture of you had an immense effect on him.

[3:55 PM] Sannie🍓: Well you gonna send me anything else?

You tilted your head at his text, a smile tugging at your lips.

[3:55 PM] Sannie🍓: You know how I hate to ask you princess

You looked around for anyone else, quickly heading into a stall and locking the door. You held your phone out in front of you, taking a few pictures of your tits in the sports bra. You sent them to San, feeling your cunt leak slightly.

Ping. Ping.

San looked at your convo, his eyes widening at the pictures in front of him. He admired the way your chest sat perked in the bra, How he wished to hold them in his own hands like putty. His dick was practically hanging out at this point, hand slowly stroking around it.

[3:57 PM] Sannie🍓: Don’t tease me baby. Let me see you.

You giggled to yourself quietly, pulling your bra from above your head and setting it aside. Your free hand squished your tits together, the other hand taking a quick pic before sending it to San. You decided to take a few more poses from different angles for him to see.

Ping. Ping. Ping.

San was in heaven, his eyes practically in heart form at seeing your perky tits on the screen. Your nipples poked through your fingers, begging to be touched.

He let out a soft groan, his cock leaking onto his fingers as he stroked it quickly. He threw his head back and jerked the tip of his member, wishing it was your tits moving against it.

[4:01 PM] Sannie🍓: Look how pretty you are.

He put his phone down, hand pumping his cock with more pressure as he was desperate to get off to your sweet photos. His mind raced with dirty thoughts of you and of your body. He wanted so badly to rip those tight clothes off of you and showing you what will happen for wearing them.

[4:04 PM] Sannie🍓: You gonna keep showing off your outfits to others or come home and take it off for me?

Your face flushed red at his words, knowing his possessiveness was pushing through. He knew exactly what you were trying to achieve with such an outfit, and lucky for you, you might get it.

[4:06 PM] You: i’m already on my way sannie.

San smirked slightly, slowing his strokes as he tried to wait out your arrival. Wanting to give you everything he had for how needy you made him.

[4:08 PM] Sannie🍓: Good. You’ll see what that outfit gets you.

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[nayaesworld]

Rugged Whiskey

Warnings: Mentions of killing, smut, toxic behavior and situations

—

Terry Richmond X OC!Khia

Part 2

__

|Future Wifey: If you can find out where I’m at in the next hour this pussy is yours again daddy 😉

Terry sprung up from his couch and headed out his door, he had no time to waste and he had a lesson to teach. There was no telling where she was at the moment but Terry had a few places in mind he would look, Hide and go seek for pussy huh? She just knew he would come running, and here he was scrambling his brain like eggs neurons firing off with thought after thought of where to search first.

Her voice stuck inside his head like the call of a siren to a lonely pirate.The black ski mask and leather gloves inside his glove compartment would finally see the light of day again. Terry was flying around the city desperate to leave no stone unturned. The park,the grocery story, the bar, her favorite spa place. All places left him no closer to Khia than he was when he first left home and it was nearing nightfall. An annoyed growl left his lips as he slapped his steering wheel, he was frustrated and starting to feel anxious. His left eye began to twitch and his palms rubbed constantly on his black jeans trying to calm his bouncing leg. He already owed her one for blocking him, and now she was making it worse for herself not being easily accessible to him.

His phone vibrated in his console and he snatched it up to see a new text from her. She was taunting him.

|Future Wifey: Did you give up on me daddy? I don’t see you anywhere.

A picture attached to the text message made him lean up in his seat. A sliver of her face shown in a failed attempt at hiding her background from him. At first nothing about the tiny view of her surroundings looked familiar, until he noticed the orange neon sign in the background. Sensual, a popular lingerie store located in the mall, he now had her location and it was time for the real games to start.

By the time he had reached the parking lot of the mall the sun and moon had exchanged places in the sky, and only a bold white moon lit up the night. Ski mask rolled up on his forehead and leather gloves on he started the trek into the mall. She could be anywhere in there now. His all black attire had him gliding through thick crowds of people, like a scene straight out of Halloween he glided slowly through the mall. His eyes sliding slowly left to right surveying his surroundings carefully. He just needed one flash of her.

He rode the escalator up to the second floor of the mall and found the lingerie store, he had to check inside it first to be sure.

“Hi, welcome to Sensual. Is there anything I can assist you with today?” A chirpy voice greeted him from behind the counter and he glanced at the tall brunette.

“Good evening…I was looking for my wife. She was just here but I seemed to have lost her.” He pulled out his phone and showed the woman the photo Khia had just sent him.

“Oh yess I remember her, she bought a few items but left shortly after… she said she had an Uber to catch.” She drifted off the last few words as she glanced at the leather gloves on his hand, eyebrows scrunched with worry. Noticing her change in demeanor immediately, he knew it was time to cut the convo short.

“Ok thank you, have a good night.” He turned on his heels and headed for the escalators. He had to get back to the front of the mall asap and now he knew she didn't drive her own car there he needed to be quick on his feet. He was itching to touch and squeeze flesh..her flesh.

Reaching the entrance of the mall outside he finally saw her, and that was almost enough to make him nut just from relief alone. She stood waiting with her shopping bag faced away from him, mindlessly tugging on the necklace around her neck . The grey sweats and jacket hung off her in an oversized fashion and he couldn’t wait to tear them from her. Dark natural curls blowing slightly in the wind made her this picturesque beauty and he knew he couldn’t wait any longer to bring her home.

Gloves tight on his hands and ski mask pulled down, he approached the dark shaded area she stood in. It was perfect cover and no one would notice him dressed to the nines in full out burglar gear. Slow quiet paces made him invisible to her, and when he finally stood behind her he slid a hand over her mouth and wrapped his other arm around her waist. Anchoring her to him with nowhere to run. A gasp and a small scream exited her mouth as she thrashed around in his hold trying to get a look at the creep that had his hands on her.

“Stop all that screaming shit, save it for later. Now walk…and don’t try no funny shit. I won your little game fair and square.” When he finally let her go he saw her eyes were slightly damp and reached out to wipe them.

“Aww I scared you baby?… good don’t have me out here looking for your ass. I’m sad too but I’m not crying.”

He watched her scrunch up her face and roll her eyes. “I’m not crying, and I definitely wasn’t scared.” He didn't buy her little act, he knew a genuinely stunned face when he saw one.

“Mm yeah yeah, now walk. You know what I drive.” With a nudge he pushed her into the parking lot, taking her bag from her hands to carry it and toss in his truck.

__

The drive was silent and Khia had no idea where he was taking her. A slight downpour had covered the truck on their drive and the sounds of the windshield wipers against the glass was the only sound available. Terry was eerily quiet. She expected him to gloat and nag her but he was just silent, an unnerving silence.

“Are you gonna take off that mask?” The ski mask was still pulled over his face and she was getting hot from it.

His head glanced her way then back at the road before he answered her. “Why you scared..?”

“No, and where are we going, your apartment is in the city. We’re on the outskirts of town?” He put a finger to his lips signaling for her to shush and cut on his radio. She sat back in her seat and huffed loudly, maybe she should’ve just stayed her ass home and kept him blocked.

“You good… you got something you wanna share? Sit tight and chill out we almost there.”

“I don’t wanna chill out, I wanna know where we’re going, all this blowing up my phone and stalking me for nothing…I never should have texted you back.” She sat in the passenger seat face frowned up from pure impatience. He was annoying her and she wasn’t holding her tongue.

“Oh you just a mouthy little brat tonight ain’t you…if I tell you to close your mouth again trust me you won’t like what comes next.” A big hand laid on her thigh in warning and she finally sat back and stayed quiet.

Terry made a sharp left turn onto a rural back road. It was dark and the only thing she could see was miles and miles of field. She sat up in her seat trying to gauge where she was but nothing looked familiar and she’d never been this far out of the city, she had no reason to come way out here. He made another left turn and this street sign she caught a glimpse of. Stone Hill road? Was he being serious right now?

The eerie dark road had been the chosen spot for a link of murders. Each body made its way to Stone Hill road and was disposed of, only to be discovered months after they’d been killed and buried. The person was never caught but everyone knew to steer clear of the road. Yet Terry had just pulled to the side of the road, parked and turned off his truck.

“Terry, why are we here?”

He threw her a squinted look before answering. “Why do you think we here?”

“Haha very sarcastic, but did you pick THIS road specifically…don’t you know what happened here?”

“Yeah I know, that’s why it’s perfect. It fits the occasion…lil bit of serial killer dick never hurt nobody.” He mumbled the last part more so to himself but Khia swore she caught the tail end of it.

“What?… Terry what did you say?”

“I said a lil bit of scary dick never hurt nobody…what did you think i said?” His green eyes peered into hers in the dark cabin of his truck.

“I-I don’t know..just forget it. I think I’m just tired.” She gave him a small nervous smile and pushed a curl behind her ear.

He snatched her up by her jacket and pulled her in close, pressing his soft plump lips to her ear. “Don’t question me again, I’m in charge..you know that.”

Her chest rose and fell quickly. She was more and more turned on as the seconds flew by and her clothes began to feel completely uncomfortable on her hot skin.

He needed her in the worst ways right now. And more importantly he needed her out of those clothes and on his dick. He pulled off his ski mask and leather gloves and placed them in the armrest, long fingers reaching over and stroking her thick thigh.

“Dig in your panties and let daddy smell that pussy… mm mm don’t act shy now, do it.” He watched her breathe shakily as she slid the sweatpants past her ass and slid her hand into her pink panties, fingers moving slowly in her panties gathering her juices on her fingers. She lifted her fingers from her panties and put her index and middle finger under his nose.

He gripped her wrist and inhaled her sweet scent, nothing in his life smelled better than it. A smell so intoxicating and raw it made his most primal thoughts and feelings rise to the forefront. He wanted to own her and fill her head with his own thoughts, but she had to be somewhat willing. The tangy taste of her juices made his taste buds tingle and mouth fill up with water. Pussy definitely made the world go round and there was no denying that fact.

“Come sit on daddy’s lap, let me feel you.” He patted his thighs and used the automatic button next to his seat and pushed back along with reclining it a bit for more space. She kicked her shoes and sweats off and crossed the console to sit on his lap letting him pull off her jacket and t-shirt. He came out of his black denim jacket and tossed it on the dashboard along with her clothing, his urge to feel her made him feel like he’d absorb her into his skin. He gazed into her damp brown eyes as he rotated her hips in a circle on his bulge, his pants slowly finding their place down his ankles.

Their breathing picked up and they grinded against one another at a quicker pace. Her bare chest on his clothed one as he pulled her closer into him, his hips lifting up to meet her soaked center every time, loud grunts and growls jumping from his mouth. The dry humping had them drunk on lust. Mouths sliding hungrily against each other's faces in a rush to assert dominance over the other. His low moans had her pussy clenching around nothing in her panties and she was sure she would combust from the feeling beneath her. She slowed her hips and looped her fingers around the hem of her panties and threw them aside. She needed him badly.

“Baby I need you to touch me please…look how wet I am for you. Put your fingers inside me, make me cum.” She leaned back against the steering wheel to give him a view of the mess she was making in his lap, and watched him drag a lone finger down her slit before he slowly pushed into her.

“Tj you make me crazy… I thought about you everyday I had you blocked.” He let his finger speed up slowly adding a second and pushing in until only his knuckles showed.

“That’s because I’m daddy, and I told you that. You gonna block me again mama?”

“No Noo I promise, I’ll never do it again daddy..that’s my dick.”

She threw her head back and bounced slowly on his fingers. Her pussy had his lap wet with her arousal and his wrist was working overtime between giving her good penetration and clitoral stimulation.

“What you gonna do for this dick tho baby, tell daddy what you willing to do for it.” She leaned forward into him nuzzling her lips against his ears, sucking his earlobe into her mouth.

“I’ll catch a charge behind this dick, it’s mine and nobody else’s. I’ll beat you and any bitch that doesn’t get that.” Terry let his Hand come down on her ass cheek hard, and quickly pulled his shirt from his body.

Her tongue slithered across his chest and to his neck.

“Oh yeah, you fighting about this dick?..you gonna fight daddy in the backseat and ain’t no running back there.”

__

Terry's hand wrapped around Khia’s throat as he drove his hips into hers. He had her folded up in the backseat of his truck feeding her inch after inch of hard dick. She had nowhere to run.

“Daddy it’s in my stomach…mm fuckkk please just cum already I-ahh.”

Terry pressed his hand onto her belly watching his bulge form behind her skin in and out. “That's where I’m supposed to be..right mama. Mhmh fucking this pussy, my pussy!”

“Tj my pussy…my pussy is yours, and that dick is mine.” She reached between them and held onto his dick as he sped up splashing her cream onto his seats. He’d get it detailed sometime soon to cleanse his truck of their sex.

The windows in the truck held a slight fog as the temperature inside it kept rising. Body temperatures collectively turning their fuck session into a homemade sauna. He glanced down at Khia watching her whimper, a glazed film over her eyes as her breathing slowed. He took his hand from around her neck to slap her cheek lightly.

“You better breathe.. I can’t believe this dick got you about to pass out!” She breathed in a large gust of air and reached forward to pull him into her body.

“Because you’re fucking me daddy, you fuck me so well.” The helpless look on her face mixed in with the sentiment had him exploding internally, if she said one more thing like that he wouldn’t last any longer.

“Fuck..fuck say it again. Tell daddy what he’s doing to this sweet pussy.” Praise was one of his kinks and she was playing right into it. His head dropped to her chest to suck on a plump nipple and his hips rolled slowly trying to hold back his release.

“Tj you're such a good boy…you found me and brought me back with you..you did so good. And now I feel it coming, you about to nut daddy..please cum Tj.” Her honeyed tone weakened him and had him sucking breaths in quickly to make himself sane in the moment. But her pussy was constricting him. Her tight hot walls suctioning him in further resembling a racing heartbeat. He had to fight against it and pull out hot slimy coats of white jizz covering her belly and breast.

She dozed off quickly after he sat her back in his passenger seat. Spent body curled against the door using his jacket as a blanket. Terry was fatigued but pushed back towards the city to his apartment, they needed a hot shower and food. He woke her up and grabbed her stuff from his backseat, swiping his keycard to get into his building. She trudged behind him, yawning and stretching as they made it inside his apartment. Clothes stripped off again for the second time that night. The two stepped into the spacious shower together. She slid her hands around his waist locking her fingers as she held her head against his chest. A thudding heartbeat echoing in her ear. Warm shower water pouring onto them in gentle pulses.

“You ok mama..what’s on your mind?”

“You are, I loved tonight, and I love your body. You’re like an Adonis.” He felt the feather-like touches slithering all over his back and meeting together in the front to explore his large biceps and toned abdominal muscles.

“Mm thank you my baby I try, but have you seen you, you stacked lil mama. Really ain’t ever seen anything like it… that’s why I can’t let you out my sight.” They continued exchanging compliments and exchanged kisses as they washed each other's body from head to toe.

Freshly washed and moisturized, they chatted in his kitchen. Khia sat swiveling left to right on his bar chairs, body covered in a red and white polka dot slip watching Terry’s naked back as he cooked up a mini brunch for them. He placed a few crispy edge pancakes on a plate for her along with a fried egg and breakfast sausage. She drowned everything in syrup and sipped on her cold glass of orange juice tucking into the sweet and savory late night brunch. Conversation drifted onto the two of them discussing being hit on in the workplace and Terry let his resolve slip once more.

“So what would you do if you saw me flirting with another man, it’s just a little flirting can’t be that bad right?” He watched a sneaky smirk form on her face and enlightened her with a matching one.

“I’d kill him…simple, just to make sure you get the memo that is. You want his life taken from him, then go ahead and play in my face.” She laughed loudly and waved him off, hand in front of her mouth just cracking up at him.

“Terry you can’t say stuff like that, that’s crazy.” Hadn’t she caught on yet? That’s exactly what he was.

“Of course I can, and I can mean it too.” He stuffed the last piece of egg into his mouth before moving to wash out his plate.

“You would kill for me Tj?” Her voice came out low and sultry and he whipped around to stare at her, dark brown eyes low but expressive.

“Fuck of course you would… you’d do anything I asked you, right daddy?” She continued speaking to him in that tone, breaking him down further and placing her in the driver seat of his body. She leaned onto the island titties jiggling from the low cut of her slip.

“Good boys get all the pussy in the world when they listen…are you a good boy Tj?” Terry was under her spell lock and key. He shook his head quickly, he was a good boy and he would do anything she asked.

“Yes I’m a good boy mamas…haven’t I shown you that though?” He rounded the island to stare down at her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She pulled him down to her face by his ears, gripping and rubbing them. She placed chaste kisses behind his ear lobe.

“Yes you have baby but I want more, can you do something else for me…so I know it’s real? Can you do this one thing to solidify us…make us one?”

“Yes yes anything, name it now.. you got it I swear…I want us to be one. Tell me what I have to do to earn you?” She sucked a hickey onto his neck, a warm hand down his grey sweats stroking the head of his dick softly as he breathed harshly in her ear. Terry was putty in her hand, his brain on autopilot as he turned into a living breathing ventriloquist dummy right before his own eyes. Worshipping wasn’t enough for him, she was goddess-like. She could snap her fingers and like a dog he would do what she said when she said it.

“Can you make someone disappear for me…I want you to be the last person he lays eyes on before you take his life, plus you're a beautiful sight who wouldn’t wanna die to your face daddy.”

Terry fell apart from that alone, spongy tip and her hand covered in webs of cum. She played with it some more on her hand before she stuffed the sticky fingers into her mouth. Making a scene of the milky white slime sticking to her lips. He gripped her chin and sucked her tongue into his mouth, he didn’t give one fuck about her having a mouth full of his nut.

“Count him as dead already, give me his address and workplace..let me prove how badly I want and need you.”

__

A/N: And that praise kink? IMMA WRITE IT. I hope yall enjoy these cuckoo birds as much as I do🫶🏾 I tried to tag everyone but if I missed you my bad!

@venusincleo @grlsbstshot @yassbishimvintage @avoidthings @pocketsizedpanther @writingsbytee @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @simplyzeeka @zillasvilla @blowmymbackout @kimuzostar @playgurlxoxo @kumkaniudaku @megamindsecretlair @theereina @keyaho @brattyfics @hotgrlcece @henneseyhoe @starcrossedxwriter @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @uzumaki-rebellion @blackmoonchilee @invisiblegiurl @blackerthings @19jammmy

[illyrianbitch]

Death and His Reaper

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: After suffering a devastating injury in battle, Azriel finds himself on the brink of life and death where he meets you, The Mother's reaper.

Warnings: angsty fluff?, brief mentions of battle and injury, lil convos about life and its meaning, Azriel without his shadows, lowk love at first sight

Word Count: 13k

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

 Azriel could feel the hot, metallic taste of blood filling his mouth, the sharp sting of pain shooting through his body with each ragged breath. A pounding, almost unbearable, pain in his head consumed him, a relentless throb that pulsed with every beat of his heart– each pulse sending waves of nausea washing over him. He tried to move, to shift away from the agony, but his limbs felt like stone, heavy and unresponsive. His muscles screamed in protest with every attempt to shift position, every movement met with waves of agony that radiated through his battered form.

Dark spots filled his vision as the ringing in his ears grew louder. Everything was fuzzy, hazy, blurs of movement and moving color. Azriel could hear sounds around him. Loud sounds, piercing sounds. Distantly, he could make out what he assumed were screams. He wasn’t sure though, and wasn't able to think about it too hard. His shadows were whispering to him, louder and louder, but he couldn’t hear them. The sound rattled in his brain as he blinked. Once. Twice. His vision became more unfocussed.

With a final, shuddering breath, the world dissolved into darkness. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

There was a humming in his ear when Azriel came to, a light vibration he wasn’t familiar with. The ache in his body grew duller with every blink— his eyelids still heavy with pain, or exhaustion, he wasn’t quite sure. One of the same, he guessed. He let a moment pass, taking deep breaths as he oriented himself. He laid in a bed, soft white sheets placed upon him gingerly. Had Feyre tucked him in? He thought for a moment. Why would Feyre tuck him in? 

Another moment passed. Azriel became aware of his clothing, his body still strapped in his illyrian leathers— leathers that were eerily clean. No smudges, no stains. Pushing himself upright, Azriel glanced around the room, his movements slow and unsteady. There was no one else in sight, no familiar faces to provide him with answers. He frowned, his brows knitting together in a puzzled expression. With a hesitant sigh, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, his muscles protesting at the sudden movement. He wavered for a moment, grasping for balance, before taking a cautious step forward. 

He casted a casual glance towards the bed, rubbing his hands across his face in exhaustion as made a move towards the door, his thoughts scattered and disjointed. But then he stilled, his head quickly snapping back. Instead of an empty bed, Azriel's gaze fell upon his own body, lying prone and unmoving— paled, almost colorless, wings hanging limply at his sides. He blinked, a flicker of confusion and fear knitting his brows as he registered the scene before him. 

“Quite strange, isn’t it?”

Azriel whipped his head around, his hand instinctively reaching for a dagger at his hip that he failed to find. His wings flared out angrily, fully extended with curled ends, each single claw at the apex poised and ready to strike. His eyes were wide as they focused on you. 

You let out a quiet laugh, a gentle sound that caressed him like a comforting hand. He felt himself falter, a sense of confusion washing over him. Yet, within that confusion was a warmth that spread through him at your presence, at your voice— soft, like a faint ray of sunlight breaking through a storm cloud.

He fought the sudden urge to stand down, an odd sense of safety wrapping around him, unnerving him with the ease in which it filled him. He struggled back, pushing the feeling away. Stay guarded, stay ready, you are a threat. Yet even in his attempts, he recognized a slight release in the tension surrounding his shoulders, a small release in the stance of his wings– decisions he hadn’t consciously made. With his eyes still trained on you, his hand searched the side of his thigh, his hip, the backside of his waistband. He patted frantically, fingers itching to find a form of protection. When his search came up empty once more, he settled for holding his other hand out towards you in warning, his palm facing you as his body fell into a defensive stance. The blue siphon on his hand glowed aggressively. 

The corners of your mouth tilted into a small smile.  “You do that everytime.”

Azriel didn’t return the gesture. Instead, he narrowed his eyes as he properly took you in. He scanned your body; the way you stood comfortably in front of him, your hands clasped together, placed delicately in front of your waist. It almost hurt to look at you, he observed. He had to squint to make out your features. And when he did, he was hit with one thought: you were beautiful. 

He cursed himself for recognizing it, for letting the thought echo in his head. You were a threat, he reminded himself, a stranger in his home. He was confused, disoriented, and yet you stood in front of him, presence dripping in a calm ease. You stared at him with a look he couldn’t discern, not when his mind was a muddled, confused, blurry mess. But the way you were looking, so expectant, so patient– it made him slightly nauseated. 

 “Who are you?” Azriel’s voice was loud and rough. He felt his heart pounding in his chest, a twitch in his wings, still extended wide. “What the hell are you talking about?”  

Azriel scrambled for words, his head aching as he searched it for answers, for explanations. His confusion exposed him in a way that made him feel naked— at risk.  None of it was right, not him standing over his own body, not him conversing with, what might possibly be, the most gorgeous female he’d ever seen, not the empty room around him. Was he dreaming? Was he being tortured?

You slowly lifted your hands in defense, remaining careful of how fast your movements were. “I’m not here to cause you any harm.”

A skeptical expression crossed his face. “Then why are you here?” He eyed you intently, his gaze scanning you as if sizing up a potential threat. His outstretched hand stayed unmoving, still on the defense. But you recognized a subtle shift in his posture, a slight calm flickering in his moving eyes.

Azriel was always the more difficult of the three to soothe. You had noticed this the last time, his wings shredded with ash arrows, his blood coating the floors beneath him. Even then, even through the exhaustion that bled into his unconscious mind– into his soul– he had fought you, acknowledged you with apprehension and distrust. You never blamed him, though. You understood. You would be fearful, confused, and defensive, too. 

“I’m here to help you.” 

Your voice was lower now than it was before. A soft murmur. He recognized the cadence, the words. It felt like a voice he’d heard before but couldn’t quite place. 

"Who are you?" Azriel demanded as he frantically looked between his own body and you. He felt a sense of fear he wasn't accustomed to, a worry that either body would vanish were he to take his eyes away for too long. "What the hell is going on?"

You took a step forward as he turned to look upon his body, reaching an arm out to touch him, to begin to explain, when his head swiftly turned back to you. Azriel recoiled, taking a step away from you, his eyes scanning you again— wide and wild. There was a rustle as his wings mirrored his actions, still extended aggressively, unmoving. You quickly stilled, realizing your mistake of initiating contact too soon. Your brows furrowed as you gave him an apologetic smile. You took a step back, settling to stand a bit further from him than you were before. 

Hazel eyes watched your every movement, his body tense as you fixed yourself into place, standing in front of him with the small smile still on your face– it reeked of pity, he thought. It didn’t feel right. No matter where he was, or who you were, he wasn’t supposed to be this off guard, this jumpy. 

His face fell as the realization hit him: he couldn't feel them. His companions, his protectors, his shadows– there were no whisperings in his ear, no cool trail as they snaked around his body. He hadn’t noticed before, too distracted by you, by his lifeless form. The absence of his shadows explained this sudden vulnerability– he was receiving no information on you. No intel about who you were, what weapons you may have, who was around to witness. As quick as the realization settled into his stomach, Azriel called out to them. He dropped one of his hands lower as if to make it easier for them to find him, to reach him, but nothing came. No cool touch on his body, no whispers. Instead, silence enveloped him as he took notice of motion around him, black wisps of smoke scattered throughout the room. 

You watched his movements, watched as he examined himself, as he craned his head to scan his body. "They can sense you," you explained, gesturing towards the shadows that seemed to be bouncing around, slithering on the ground like they were blind and confused. Some rested on his unmoving body, some around his feet, but not quite on him. His wings began to retract and slump as Azriel’s face slightly fell, his mouth open and brows furrowed. 

He looked down, observing his hands tentatively. “Why aren’t they with me?” Azriel asked. His voice was slightly strained. He didn’t look up at you, his vision trained to his scarred hands, to the floor below him where shadows circled aimlessly. He felt an ache in his heart,  a longing to be covered again, to be with them, to be protected. He felt too naked, stripped of every layer that protected him— no shadows, no intel, bare before you.

“Your shadows are sentient,” you explained, “they don’t die with you.”

His head snapped up, hazel eyes meeting yours instantly, widened with disbelief. "Die?" he repeated, his eyes scanning yours. "What do you mean die?"

In a slight moment of shock, Azriel took an unconscious step forward. His body tensed, and you watched as the rest of his frame followed suit, the muscles in his jaw clenching. There was an evident unease in his face, tension etched into his features.

You maintained a stillness, a deliberate choice not to intrude further, to remain respectful of his boundaries. Your gaze held a mixture of understanding and patience, offering him a moment to process the information without feeling overwhelmed. Then, you softly asked, “Where do you think you are, Azriel?”

His name sounded foreign on your tongue but he didn’t have the space to acknowledge it, instead rummaging through his other thoughts. He blinked, taking in your question.  A dull ache in his head creeped up on him, but your voice soothed it instantly— soft, comforting. 

"I... I don't know," he stammered, voice low and quiet, void of any assertion it held moments prior. His eyes darted back and forth, attempting to piece together fragments of memory. His wings now mirrored his defeated state–  limp and listless, curled in, the membrane hanging dejectedly.

Sensing his growing distress, you adjusted your approach. "What is the last thing you remember?" 

Your voice, smooth like honey and warm like tea, flowed through him. For a moment, he allowed it to sit, allowed it to spread, letting it calm him in a way that he was fighting before.  

"I…" Azriel muttered to himself. Slowly, fragments of memory began to resurface, faint but discernible. He looked back at his body, examining it as if trying to find the missing pieces, memories popping up like distant echoes, flashing in the corners of his brain. The ache was back, slowly spreading throughout his head. “I was fighting.”

He looked back over his shoulder, twisting his body to peer at where his physical body lay in the bed, the colors of the room now registering with a strange clarity. Tandem disembodied flashbacks surged through his mind—flashes of fighting, the metallic taste of blood on his tongue, and the cacophony of clashing weapons. Each image hit him like a sudden jolt, disjointed and chaotic.

In one fragment, he could almost feel the weight of a blade in his hand, the strain of muscles as he swung it in a frenzied dance. Another flash brought back the distant echoes of shouted commands, the clash of metal on metal, and the acrid scent of sweat and blood lingering in the air. The blurry memories continued, each scene disconnected yet vivid in its brutality. He shivered as the ghost of each sensation trailed his body, a twitch in his wings as he recalled the injuries they had sustained. 

Then, a searing pain in his head, a sharp and sudden ache that brought him to his knees in his mind's eye. The pain lingered in his skull like a phantom sensation, and with it, a realization began to form. His eyes met yours with a cold, distant understanding. A wave of sadness hit you. 

"I'm dead,” he stated, his voice quiet, “Aren't I?"

A sympathetic smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Not yet," you clarified, taking a step to move closer, the movement slow and deliberate. "You're in between."

"In between? In between where?"

You took a moment to look at him, your gaze lingering on his face. His eyes were darker now, troubled, as he stared back at you. “Your body,” You started, gesturing towards his sleeping form to guide his attention back to where it lay, “It's still fighting.”

Azriel nodded slowly, taking in each of your words, digesting them, letting them sit. There was a shift in his expression—a solemn understanding replacing the earlier confusion he once held. You continued. 

 "Madja, she's a brilliant healer. She has brought back many from this same brink."  

When Azriel looked back at you, you shifted your focus to his head, motioning with a gentle sweep of your hand, then directed your fingers towards your own temple. "And your mind," You said, "it's fighting too." 

Azriel frowned. He was a soldier. He sustained many injuries before, had fought in battles that left him with gaping wounds, with his organs rearranged. This was nothing new— so why was this different? Had he always been out this long? 

You watched him intently, observing the way his thoughts seemed to churn beneath the surface, how he began to blink rapidly, how his brow furrowed. He was still confused– you could feel it. You let out a small sigh, running your eyes across his face. 

"The injury you sustained was worse than any you've ever had," you explained, your voice steady. Flashes of his memories interjected—him fighting, soaring into the air only to be shot down, engaging in combat once again, his head colliding with something hard, the sickening sound of a crunch. "Not only to your body but to your head. You cracked your skull open completely, Azriel. The trauma of the infliction itself… well, let's say it damaged your brain. Heavily."

As Azriel looked directly at you, his hazel eyes glazed over with deep contemplation. He nodded absentmindedly, "Okay.” He said. He looked over to his unmoving form again. 

With his attention fixated on his proper body, you took the time to observe him more closely, scanning his face and his body, taking in the details of his fighting leathers. Azriel was a vision— your favorite male to visit, your favorite soul to see. You can’t remember the first time you saw him, the first time he laid on a bed, a grasp away from death. You suppose it was centuries ago, when he first became a soldier. But even then, time escaped you. 

Your gaze wandered to the wings adorning his back, now freed from their earlier alarmed nature, not fully extended but not fully kept back. You thought back to their wide and impressive extended form, the membrane between each robust wing bearing a faint sheen, casting a subtle shimmer in the ambient light. Even now they were mesmerizing–  the leathery texture, the powerful structure, the way they naturally framed his form. The tips of the expansive wings curved slightly, giving Azriel an imposing yet graceful appearance, even among current circumstances. Azriel's voice brought you back to attention. 

"So I'm stuck here?" 

"For now."  You responded, your voice carrying a gentle reassurance. The look on his face, only beginning to finally process his reality, pushed you to postpone any further explanations. Time was not an issue, not now. 

"And you are..." Azriel's voice trailed off.

"Y/n," you answered. 

He let the name sink in, repeating it with a slow, deliberate pace, "Y/n." 

“Yes.” You nodded.

“And you’re here to help me.”

Another nod. “Yes.”

He rolled his shoulders as something that resembled a skeptical scowl slowly made its way through his face. Then, Azriel squinted his eyes at you.  “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

You couldn't help it—a small laugh escaped you, echoing softly in the room. The sound made Azriel jolt back slightly, caught off guard. Dying it down with a small, genuine smile on your face, you caught Azriel’s uncomfortable gaze, his wings now extended slightly, the corners of his lips downturned in confusion.

"I’m- I’m sorry,” You said, clearing your throat. “It's just... you are curious this time around.” 

Azriel's hazel eyes widened in shock, his brows furrowing in confusion. "This– this time around?” His eyes rapidly scanned your face with a deep intensity. Faintly, he recalled your earlier comment, the laugh when you said that he reacted the same way every time. “Have we met before?"

You offered him a small smile as you said, "Many times.”

Azriel let out a deep breath. Here he stood, suspended between life and something else entirely, facing someone who knew him in a way that he couldn’t even remember. A sense of anxiety filled his chest. He wished for his shadows now, for them to wrap themselves around his arms, around his neck, to offer some calm. He searched you for any sign of deception, looked at the way your eyes followed him, the stance that you held. But all he found was a sense of sincerity and tenderness. 

“Your family tends to face death a lot more than others in Prythian,” you explained, “You and your brothers especially." 

At the mention of his brothers, Azriel's heart dropped, a heaviness settling in his chest. Thoughts of his family rushed in—wondering who had found him, the worry that surely gripped them. He straightened up, a sense of urgency urging him to survey his surroundings. His family… His gaze moved beyond you, taking in the details of the room. It was his guest suite in the River House, the room he’d stay in when he came to visit Rhysand and Feyre, the room they would drag him into when he needed to rest or heal. It was his room. Yet, there were no sounds of people, no familiar voices—just the quiet emptiness that surrounded him, surrounded you both. Surely they would be near him, Azriel thought, Madja at the least.

"Where is everyone?" He asked, still scanning the room. He walked towards the large windows, taking in the nighttime view, gorgeous and still— mountains covered in snow, a city lit by moonlight. 

“Here, it's just you," you said gently.

Azriel turned to face you once more, a flicker of sadness crossing his features. He didn’t ask for any further explanation, a sense of exhaustion heavily weighing on him. His eyes bore into yours. "And you. You exist here too.” 

“I do.”

He took a step towards you, wings rustling in their position behind his back. Azriel scanned your face, hazel eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and weariness. He wasn’t afraid of you, didn’t believe you were a threat– not anymore, at least. But you were still here, in this state of existence that only he was in. 

“Why?”

The question was pure curiosity, not a hint of distrust or malice within it. You observed him, noting how he seemed to have settled, the tension in his frame easing. Instead, a subtle sadness lingered, a reflection of longing. Azriel loved his family, this much you knew. He was a devoted male, devoted to serving those he loved, devoted to his position, to his duties. Of course he was missing his family. Your heart ached. 

"I'm here to help," you assured, "I’m to stay while you heal, or until–"

“Until I stop…” Azriel finished the sentence, a quiet acceptance in his voice. "And then you guide me."

You were taken aback as Azriel's hazel eyes locked onto yours, a moment of realization passing between you. Usually, it was you who revealed your purpose to those you reaped, explaining the meaning of your duties, easing their worries. You blinked, your head tilting back slightly as you clasped your hands together. Azriel continued, stating with a quiet certainty, "You're a reaper."

You nodded, titling your head as you took in his face, his brows slightly knitted. “I am.” 

You weren’t supposed to be doing this. In situations like these, where they were stuck between the life before and the life after, you were to leave them in peace– wait until they decided or their body decided for them. It was never intended for you to stay with them during the waiting period, to keep them company. No, this was something you felt inclined to do. You couldn’t leave Azriel if you wanted to, it felt wrong— and you didn’t want to. Not one bit. 

"You weren't what I expected," Azriel admitted.

Azriel had a faint idea of your kind, of your duties. He heard accounts of near-death experiences, tales of encountering a radiant light, foggy memories and beliefs of meeting a beautiful entity—whatever that meant. He always wrote them off as distant narratives, existing in the realms of folklore and imagination. He would have never imagined something like you – something so… delicate. 

Curiosity lingered in your gaze as you asked, "What did you expect?" 

"I don't know," Azriel replied honestly, his head beginning to throb and ache again. A hand instinctively rose to the back of his scalp, fingers rubbing at the tension that surfaced. The ache radiated through his skull as he massaged his hairline. You recognized the discomfort with a small frown, playing with your hands as you observed him for a moment. 

 "Azriel,” You spoke, drawing his attention back to you, “I'm going to give you some time to process everything. Explore, think. When you're ready, and if you want to, you can find me then."

Azriel looked at you, uncertainty drawn across his features. "How will I know where you are?”

"You’ll know.” A soft smile played on your lips as you reassured him. “Trust me.”

As you left, Azriel took a deep breath and closed his eyes, letting the quiet expanse embrace him.  

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

You were right. Azriel knew exactly where to find you. How we knew, he didn’t know. He wasn’t even aware of how he got to you, how he managed to move. One moment he was wandering, taking in the quiet halls of the house, the next he was thinking of you, seeking you out— and then he was here, watching you. 

It was dark out still, a fresh night breeze in the air. Azriel stood for a moment, taking in his surroundings—a small clearing nestled between two towering mountains covered in snow. The landscape was rugged, the terrain too harsh to be in the vicinity of Velaris. Somewhere beyond the borders of Illyria, he concluded. He turned his focus back to you. Draped in a simple cream-colored dress, you stood at the edge of the clearing, your silhouette softly illuminated by the glow of the full moon that hung in the sky. The moonlight painted the terrain around you with a soft, silvery hue, casting long shadows that danced across the uneven ground. 

“Hi, Azriel.” The words left your mouth before you turned your head to look at him. When your eyes met his, you gave him a smile. He faltered for a moment.

“Hello… Y/n.” He said your name quietly, adding it onto his greeting tentatively, as if he was testing how it felt on his tongue. He liked it, he decided. It tasted sweet. 

You turned your head back to the view in front of you, and Azriel took it as an unspoken invitation. Slowly, he found himself walking towards you, the snow crunching beneath his boots. You both stood in silence, and Azriel found a sense of calm rolling through him. Taking a deep breath, he let his wings unfurl slightly, not having noticed the tension they had been carrying, tucked tightly behind him.

Azriel turned to gaze at you. You stood still, eyes trained forward on the view before you. Your focus prompted him to take in the sight once more, bringing his attention back to the vast expanse ahead.

"Where are we?" he asked, his voice low and steady.

It was now your turn to look at him, to observe the side of his face as he looked forward. The faint glow of the moonlight casted shadows on the contours of his face. He looked almost holy, something devout and ethereal. "You don’t recognize it?”

Your question led to a contemplative frown creasing his brow and he turned his head, taking in the soft smile on your face. “Should I?”

You turned your body fully to face him, craning your head to look up at him. There was a subtle shift in his expression as your eyes met. You nodded toward the view, a gentle encouragement.

“Look again.” 

And he did. 

Then, his gaze softened, a hint of recognition flickering in his eyes. Azriel's shoulders fell, a subtle release of tension, and his wings shuddered softly. "I used to come here," he said quietly, "A long time ago… I used to come here."

His eyes shifted between you and the view. You met his gaze, nodding in silent understanding, leaving a space of silence that invited him to continue talking if he desired to— if he was comfortable. 

"I found it flying one night," he continued. His memories now seemed to dance in his mind, distant yet vivid, a time before Amarantha, before Koshei. A faint smile ghosted his lips. “I'd find time between missions to come here and just breathe. Now I could never validate wasting time to be here, doing nothing."

You let out a small hum. “Taking time to breathe is never a waste.”

Azriel turned to look at you. "How did you..." 

"Know about this?" you finished for him. He nodded.

You smiled, the expression warm and animated. Holding your arms in front, one hand cradling each elbow, you continued, "I could feel it. Part of our duty," your voice carried a gentle honesty. "The Mother helps us to find your peace."

Azriel's gaze scanned you again, a subtle curiosity in his eyes. His attention shifted to your arms, and then to the snow-covered surroundings. "Are you cold?" he asked, concern lacing his words. Instinctively, he placed a hand on your bicep, but quickly retracted it when he registered the movement. 

You kept your gaze locked with his, unfazed. "No," you replied calmly, and then added, "Neither are you."

Azriel blinked, and then he looked down at himself, his eyes scanning his own body, his arms. He wasn’t cold. He thought back to every time he had visited this place, this lookout. Being so high up made the air nippy, made the breeze cold–  he always wore an extra layer.  But here he stood, alongside you, and all he could feel was a sense of warmth. Interesting. It was all so interesting to him. 

Azriel nodded to himself, turning to face forward again. He traced the tops of the snow-covered mountains, the valley below. You remained sideways for a moment, watching him as he processed the image before him. Another moment passed and then you, too, turned to face forward, mirroring his contemplative posture. 

“So, what does it all mean?” He asked, his voice a low murmur. 

You stilled, rubbing your lips together as you took in his question. You glanced to the side, his eyes still trained before him. It wasn’t the view he was talking about, you knew this. He was asking the question many before him had, wondering about the purpose of life, the answer to their troubles. You thought for a moment, pondering on what to tell him. There were no right responses here— at least, none that you thought would satisfy him. So, you answered from your heart.

“Does it have to mean something?”

Azriel’s head turned to you. “Yes,” He said, all too fast. It had to mean something. His entire existence, his suffering, every life he had taken— it had to mean something. He needed it to mean something. The agony he had lived with, the anger he wore as second skin, it was all for something… for some reason. He needed it to be. So he continued, “It has to.”

You studied him, watching the subtle shifts in his demeanor, the weight of his gaze lingering on you— there was something in his eyes, a sense of desperation, of fear. You took a deep breath, and then you offered an understanding smile.

“Then it means whatever you need it to mean.”

Azriel frowned.

“That isn’t an answer.”

You tilted your head slightly, looking at him for a moment before you responded. “Well,” You said, "Perhaps you asked the wrong question.”

“What do you mean?” His brows knitted together, forming a furrowed line of confusion on his forehead. Faintly, in the back of his head, an ache gnawed at him. 

Facing each other now, you maintained eye contact as he looked at you intently.  “Ask me what you really want to, Azriel.”

”I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” There was a tinge of frustration in his voice, delicately mixed into the confusion that laced it. 

You simply shrugged, giving him a close-mouthed smile. “You will.”

In normal circumstances, your elusive answers would have driven him crazy—  he would be suspicious of you, find a sense of guilt in your failure to give proper, concrete responses. But he wasn’t in a normal circumstance, and you weren’t a threat. These were two things he knew, now, for sure. So he took your answers, as ambiguous as they were, and let them sit with him in the comfortable, cool, silence. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Azriel found you again by the Sidra, walking along the cobblestone streets of Velaris. It was the same again, him being able to find you without so much as a second guess. It was daytime now, he noticed. The sun shone brightly, casting a warm glow onto the city streets, filling his body with a comfortable, familiar, warmth. A few steps ahead of him, you stilled, turning around gracefully to face him. 

“Hello Azriel.” 

He stopped, making a motion to look around as if he were to find someone else, another person you might be referring to. Quickly he remembered that it was just you and him in this plane, in this form of his existence. He cleared his throat.

“Y/n,” He greeted, with a small nod of his head. 

He walked towards you, stopping into place in front of you, a few feet ahead. The sunlight hit your back, creating a soft, radiant glow around your silhouette– it outlined your figure, forming a subtle halo around your head that seemed to blend with the warmth of the sun. It almost looked as if the sunlight itself was embracing you, framing your presence with a touch of radiance. Azriel took a moment to admire it. 

He realized seconds later that he’d stared for too long, that you were now gazing up at him expectantly, eyes scanning his face. 

Azriel wasn’t much of a talker, not around strangers, and sometimes not even his own family. It was never that he didn’t have things to say— quite the opposite, really. Az thought about everything, and he thought about it all very deeply. He had too much to say, too much that he’d observed. But now, in front of you, his mind was drawing blanks. He thought back to how, not long ago, you both stood on a snowy mountain, looking into the comfortable darkness of the night. How time worked here, with you, he didn’t know. It didn’t bother him, however, not like it did when he first woke up. In fact, he had begun to enjoy it. To enjoy how free it was, how there were no rules, no expectations, no missions. 

Azriel paused, his thoughts swirling, and then, almost as if caught off guard by his own words, he blurted out, "I would like to show you something." 

You blinked in surprise, your mouth parting slightly as your heart seemed to skip a beat, carefully falling back into a rhythmic melody. A smile spread across your features– a broad, teeth-revealing smile. The corners of Azriel’s lips turned up in response. If you didn’t know any better, you would have described the smile as almost awkward in its delivery. Though modest, it still held a certain beauty as it graced his face. The lines that had once etched across his features seemed to smooth out, replaced by silent calm evident in the softening of his gaze, the subtle curve of that smile. Your own smile settled into a close-lipped one, and you gently pulled your bottom lip with your teeth before nodding your head.  

“Lead the way, Azriel," you said, and he began walking, but not without a quick glance back at you, ensuring you were following his lead. As you walked beside him at a comfortable pace, his wings fanned out comfortably. Their immense size allowed them to extend behind you, and even though you walked at his pace, you could feel their presence above you.

The streets of Velaris unfolded before you as you walked alongside Azriel. You took it all in– the beauty of the city, its intricate architecture and vibrant atmosphere. It was always a pleasure to experience it, to breathe in its life. Even amidst the circumstances that brought you here, there was a sense of appreciation for the privilege of experiencing such a place. A sense of jealousy welled up within you. Envy for those who could lead a normal life here— those who could wake up, take a walk by the Sidra, greet their friends in the morning light. It all seemed so mundane, so easy. You pushed the thought away, not wanting to give it the air to breathe, the space to fester. You looked towards Azriel.

“Where are we going?” You asked, as you both rounded a corner into a small alleyway. The space was narrow, causing you to fall into line behind him, your vision focusing on his wings. They were beautiful before, in the nighttime glow, but seeing them in such close proximity, with the sun casting through their membranes, it was a different experience. Such beautiful, beautiful things, you thought. You ached to run your fingertips across them. 

He responded over his shoulder, "Aren't you supposed to know everything?"

You sensed a slight playful tone in his voice, letting out a small laugh at his question. 

"That's not how it works," you replied, "I'm not The Mother."

Azriel stopped for a moment, causing you to skitter to a stop as well. He looked back, a puzzled expression crossing his face as he uttered a simple "huh." 

You suddenly felt a vulnerability settling in, an awkward awareness of yourself and your proximity to him. Before it could fully take hold, Azriel resumed walking and you followed. The alleyway began to open up to a bigger road, allowing the space for you both to begin walking side by side once more. 

"Azriel,” You said, casting a glance up at him, “If you're leading me to some private area to kill me, I hate to tell you that it won't work."

He stopped, and then craned his head down to look at you. A nervous flutter danced in your chest as a sense of self-consciousness crept in. What a stupid joke to make, you thought. What if he believed you were making a crude reference to his duties as a spymaster– assuming the worst of him and his abilities?  Had you inadvertently touched on a sensitive subject in an attempt at humor? You weren't friends, you reminded yourself,  there was still an expectation of professionalism to uphold. Azriel looked at you for a moment. And then another.

And then, he laughed. The sound, small and amused, radiated through your chest. You awkwardly joined in, unsure if your joke had landed or if it was something else entirely.

"Why would I kill the one who will bring me peace?" he asked, his words delivered with a touch of sincerity. 

You let out a breath, taking in his face, the hazel of his eyes as he stared down at you. You smiled back at him, letting out another laugh, this time more certain and lighthearted. "Right, that would be foolish of you.”

You knew that Azriel was talking about your duties, about the job of a Reaper, not you specifically. But for a moment, you let yourself live in a fantasy, one where you weren't simply The Mother’s hand, where you didn’t only exist here, in a space where no one remembered you. 

Azriel beckoned you to walk into the bigger street. It was only a few more steps before you stopped, taking in the sight of a quaint shop before you, adorned with small tables and chairs, surrounded by hanging plants and flowers. The window boasted a delicately hand-painted logo: Fillings & Emulsions.

Azriel took notice of the silence surrounding you both, no hum of the usual Velaris life, no laughter, no murmured distant conversations. Yet, the shop still smelled like its usual self— a sweet, buttery aroma of delicate treats and pastries. Azriel breathed it in with a smile. He opened the door, a small jingle sounding above him where a tiny bell rang. He held it open for you to enter.

Your gaze swept across the interior, taking in the small tables and the glass display filled with pastries of various shapes and colors. Behind the counter, loaves of bread sat neatly on wooden shelves.

"I like coming here, when I have the time." 

Wandering around and exploring the cozy pastry shop, your gaze casually shifted towards Azriel, who remained by the doorway. "You're a dessert person?" you asked as you continued to meander through the charming space. 

“Sometimes,” Azriel replied, walking further into the store. He looked around, taking in the familiar environment, the comforting decor. “But they have these sour candies that I love. They come in this little gold box-”

“You mean these?”

Now behind the counter, you turned around to face him, a small delicate gold box in your hand. The plastic cover revealed 12 small square gummies nestled inside, each in their own white wrapper. You looked up at him for confirmation. Azriel met your eyes before his gaze traveled down to your hands.

“Yes,” he breathed, a small smile forming on his lips, “Those.”

You smiled at the response, slowly making your way back around the counter, a few feet away from where he stood. You surveyed the store, eyes bouncing to the different tables and mismatched chairs. “Where do you usually sit?” 

 “I, uh, I don’t.” Azriel cleared his throat. “I never have the time. And when I do, I usually just head home.” 

Azriel didn’t explain further, didn’t tell you his real reasons. It was true, he usually didn’t have time to sit and leisurely enjoy a box of candies. But when he did, he was often too afraid to stay in the store itself. 

Azriel knew he called attention, that his wings stuck out in stark contrast against the gentle streets of the city, the quiet hum of life. He’d conditioned himself to appear smaller when walking around, to avoid direct eye contact so as to not intimidate those he passed. But even then, his presence was offputting– he’d catch citizens avoiding him, creating more distance between them or switching to the opposite side of the street.  It was part of the job, he told himself. He was a large male, fully aware of how terrifying his stature could be, how frightening his own wings could be— especially when fully extended. Not even to mention his scarred hands, ones that he was sure fae could imagine easily drenched in the blood of his enemies. He wore gloves when he could. He wasn’t ashamed of them– his hands– not as much as before, but he was always acutely aware. Aware that they weren’t normal, that they drew attention, that for the comfort of others, he hid them away. 

He came to, his thoughts slowly dissipating as he registered his surroundings once more, his gaze landing on you. You looked at him with a small curiosity in your eyes.

“Well,” You said, taking a glance around, “Would you like to sit now?”

“I would.” He nodded, offering a small smile that carried a touch of timidity. It wasn't like before, no uncertainty or awkwardness, but rather a gentle expression that hinted at a reserved warmth. 

“Inside or outside?”

Azriel looked over his shoulder, towards the small door and the seating outside. 

“Outside,” he replied.

A hum of agreement escaped your lips as you gave him a smile, taking a step to the side in order to walk around him, leading the way. The gentle jingle of the little doorbell echoed delicately as you stepped outside.

 Azriel followed you, watching as you approached a small steel table. The white paint was chipped, flaking off at certain areas of the legs, but you didn’t seem to mind. The air felt crisp and clean, rays of sunshine peeking through alleyways and the tips of the stores that lined the street. Azriel took a moment to breathe it in, savoring the clarity that hung in the atmosphere, the silence. You pulled out your chair, the movement emitting a small screech as it slid against the cobblestones. Azriel walked to the table, standing opposite of you, and carefully took a seat. 

As you slowly opened the box, Azriel adjusted himself in the seat. It was small, the steel back stiff and straight, making it hard for him to sit comfortably with his wings. After a small struggle, he settled into a position sitting up right, wings draping across each side of the chair. The frustration melted away as he took in his surroundings once more. He felt a certain peace he’d never felt before. A lightness in his movements, in his touch. The fresh air kissed his skin, a soft breeze whispered into his ears, threading itself through his hair. 

“Is it always like this?” He asked. 

You pulled the lid off the box, casting a glance up at him. Azriel’s head was turned sideways, his gaze following the curve of the streets.

“Like what?”

He looked at you, catching your eye. His face held a graceful calmness, brows slightly furrowed, and the corners of his lips turned up ever so slightly. With a soft, velvety tone, he replied, "This peaceful." 

Turning to the side, you quickly scanned over the streets, registering the simple beauty that surrounded you both. Turning back to him, a tender smile played on your lips.

“Yes,” you replied, “It is.”

Azriel's response was a simple silent contemplation. Leaning back with a subtle adjustment for comfort, his wings gently folded and his gaze fixed on the table. Azriel loved Velaris. But he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the peace of an empty city that graced him now. Sitting with you now, at a small table by the streets, was something he was never able to do— not truly, not to this extent. He held the feeling close. 

 "Which are your favorites?" 

Your voice pulled Azriel back to reality. He blinked, and then he looked at you. 

"The green ones.”

You picked up one of the green candies nestled in white wrapping and offered it to him. Your hands briefly touched as he gently accepted the candy from you. You felt the texture of his skin against yours, the small ridges formed by the scarred tissue that extended to his fingers. 

Azriel waited for it– the expected recoil from unintended contact, his body having been naturally accustomed to jump at the slightest of touches. However, this time, there was no involuntary withdrawal, no rush of icy embarrassment. 

He was always so careful of his touch with Elain, acutely aware of how his hands looked against her immaculate skin. Although he refused to admit it, it bothered him deeply, how obvious it made his differences appear. Yet, that caution wasn’t found now, in his movements with you. Instead, a sense of certainty filled him, a gentle nudge to his heart, a contentedness with himself and his presence. You were beautiful, graceful, kind– and he didn’t feel guilt when touching you, didn’t feel as if he were about to taint something too beautiful for his hands.

You observed him as he stared at his hands, now resting on the table, the candy still in between his fingers. With a small movement, you gently cupped the side of one of them with your palm. 

“Azriel,” You softly said, pulling his attention to you. “They didn’t feel this type of peace— didn’t feel peace at all, actually.”

Azriel stayed quiet, his gaze now trained on where your hand touched his. You pulled your hand back, and Azriel's gaze followed. Then, almost imperceptibly, the hazel of his eyes brightened. There was something about the way you spoke to him, about how kind your voice was. They didn’t feel peace. Your words rang in his head, a wave of relief passing through his body. It healed a part of him that he swore was broken, warmed his body like a summer's eve. He gave you a small smile. 

You worried for a moment that you had forced thoughts onto him, ones that harbored pain and loneliness. But you felt it in your gut, a need to tell him, to let him know that they had suffered the way they deserved— that his hands were solely a part of him, a body part, natural. And from his response, it seemed as if he understood what you were saying, and most importantly, that it resonated with him the way you wished it to. You returned your attention to the sour candies before you.

"Can I ask why you like these so much?"

Azriel looked at you, a close-mouthed smile forming. His eyes crinkled a bit, and then he explained, "My mother used to give me candies just like this when I was able to see her. I never figured out how she got them. She..." He trailed off, readjusting how he was sitting. His gaze met yours as he finished, "That's why."

You could sense the sadness now evident in his face, his wings rolling in closer to his body. You let out a small breath as a sudden pang of sympathy hit you. 

"Let's talk about something else," you suggested, subtly shifting the focus as you played with the edges of the candy box

Azriel leaned forward quickly, his hand reaching out to gently rest on yours before either of you had the chance to register the movement. "It's alright,” he said softly. “I'd like to talk about this. I don't talk about her much.”

Your gaze lingered on his hand touching yours, on the warmth that spread through your skin at the contact. Be professional, you reminded yourself. This is not real. 

With a genuine smile, you nodded, careful not to move a muscle, not wanting to disrupt the moment, to risk the chance of him retracting his hand.  "Then please, I'd love to hear.”

And so he did. Azriel spoke of his mother, of growing up admiring her long hair and the way she smelled of pine and snow. He realized that he had never talked so much about himself, never shared such intimate details about his life. He realized, too, that he quite liked it. He liked talking to you. He liked you. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Days and nights had passed, Azriel was sure of it, but he was never tired, never slept. Time worked so differently here– he wasn’t aware of it passing, wasn’t aware of what he’d done the day before or even hours prior. All he was aware of was the peace in his heart, how it radiated throughout his body, relieving him of centuries worth of tension. Amidst it all was you, a companion Azriel had grown to enjoy— to adore, if he was being honest with himself.

You were kind and patient, welcoming in a way that had him opening up to you, telling you stories that he’d never dared to share with anyone else. There was no fear of being vulnerable here, with you, no threat he had to worry about, no anxiety regarding a new enemy or an evil to defeat. It was all so easy. 

Azriel walked through the hallways of the House of Wind, taking in the familiar sense of home that filled it, the beauty of the sun-warmed stone. He found himself outside of his own room, staring in at the space. It was strange to think that his body, his real body, lay in another bedroom, in another home— in a form of existence that he no longer held. It was all so very strange. But he didn’t mind, not anymore.

He felt you before he heard you, a gentle breeze fanning over him, a smell of sweetness filling his nose. He turned to face you, taking in your presence, the cream dress that adorned your figure. It was there again, the subtle halo around your head, framed by faint rays of sunlight. 

“Hello, Azriel.” You greeted with a large smile. He mirrored the gesture almost instantly. 

“Hello, y/n.” 

You took a few steps forward, craning your head to peer into the room behind him, past the doorway he stood under. 

“Is this your room?” 

“Yes,” He said, taking a step aside to allow for you to pass him as you entered. “One of many. My family, they have many places to call home.”

“Do you miss them?” You asked, casting a glance over your shoulder as you moved around his room, “Your family, I mean.”

Azriel stilled for a moment. He hadn’t thought of them as much as he would have expected, a part of him felt guilty for not being as heartbroken. He did miss his family– he was worried about them, about how they were doing, if his help was needed. But he didn’t feel a rush to return to his life, no nauseating need to fix his current situation, to be healed and awake. 

“Yes.” He replied. He watched as you walked around, carefully taking in your surroundings. His room wasn’t very interesting— simple decorations that had already been placed before he took residence, various random books. 

“Where do you disappear to?” Azriel asked. 

You turned to look at him, taking him in for the first time since you entered. It was still there, you noticed, the sense of calm on his face, the evidence of a serene ease. His eyes held a lightness that you’d seen grow since he first came to you. His shoulders were relaxed, his wings comfortably fanned out behind him in an open and unhurried sprawl.

To do your job, you thought. The duties of a Reaper. Visiting souls in distress, leading them to their peace swiftly– efficiently. Not staying with them, not keeping them company. No, those were things you’d reserved for Azriel. You only hoped that The Mother wasn’t angry, that your affinity for him didn’t disrupt a delicate balance. 

“As much as I enjoy our time together, I still have duties to fulfill,” You replied. “Did you miss me?”

You intended for it to be a joke, a lighthearted comment that would make him laugh– a melodic sound you had gotten used to recently, one that you savored and replayed in your mind. Yet Azriel’s eyes met yours with a serious gaze. 

“Yes,” He answered, his voice sincere. “I did.”

Something in your chest fluttered and your mouth parted, a pleasant shiver rolling through your body. There was a small heat that rose to your cheeks. For a moment, you looked at the floor, composing yourself before meeting his gaze again. A genuine smile graced your lips as you softly admitted, "I missed you, too." 

A few moments later, you walked along Azriel as he shared stories about his home, his brothers, and the various experiences he'd had, absorbing each narrative with hungry ears. It was a beautiful thing to see, Azriel open and laughing, the smile on his lips as he recalled favorite memories. This house, The House of Wind as Azriel had called it, was filled with life– his life. You could feel it everywhere as you walked. There was a small tug at your heart. He had a life. A beautiful, real life. 

Eventually, you both stopped at a large window, the outside world spread before you in a breathtaking view. Azriel found his gaze dropping to the streets below, devoid of the usual bustling life he was used to. Faintly, a small ache hit the back of his head. He blinked it away. Then, he frowned slightly, a realization hitting him that he didn’t enjoy seeing the streets empty– that something felt missing. He turned to look at you, brows furrowed. 

"Do you ever get lonely?" 

The question lingered in the air for a moment, stealing the air from your lungs. Why it seemed to strike, you couldn’t tell, but it left a burn in its wake. You let out a deep breath as you looked up at Azriel.

“The Mother blessed me with a duty that is fulfilling.”

Azriel looked at you, studying your response. A sense of sadness filled him, a gentle ache in his heart at the idea, at the image of you alone, wandering the empty streets. Softly, he spoke, "That's not what I asked." 

A wave of emotion washed over you. There was a sanctity to your duties, to the job that you held. You were honored to help The Mother, to be the one that granted such peace. You never knew that you could feel such longing, such a desire to be someone else, something else, until you met Azriel the first time he crossed. And then the time after. And now. 

 "Yes, Azriel,” you admitted, “I do.”

As you both stood in the quiet moment, the stunning view from the window still visible in your peripheral vision, you looked at Azriel. You took in his details—the tousle of his hair, the gleam in his eyes—committing the scene to memory. This was an image you wanted to save forever, one of him so close, so connected. 

Azriel broke the silence with another question, "Why do you do that? Say my name so often?"

You didn’t realize that the frequency in which you used his name was noticeable. It rolled off your tongue so easily, so naturally. You thought about it for a moment, thought about the feeling you got before you said it. 

"Would you prefer me to call you by something else?" you asked, tilting your head slightly as you observed Azriel's expressions. "Shadowsinger, or Spymaster?"

His response was immediate and he took a step forward as he spoke. "No," Azriel said, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability. "I-I like it."

You smiled at him. "I suppose I do it to make sure you feel seen." 

A flicker of confusion crossed Azriel's face, his brows knitting together. "Seen?"

"To show you that you're not just what you do," you explained, your voice carrying a quiet sincerity. Your words trailed off softly. A beat passed, and then you added, "At least not to me." 

In his hundreds of years of life, Azriel was never seen. He had been perceived, observed, even known, but never truly seen. Not like the way you looked at him, the way you allowed him to breathe, allowed him to exist as nothing more than simply Azriel. 

Your gaze held seemed to see beyond the layers he had meticulously built around himself for so long, beyond the titles and responsibilities that often defined him. For the first time, he felt a sense of vulnerability mingled with relief—a feeling of being understood in a way he hadn't experienced before, in a way he never felt he deserved. A warmth spread through his body, starting from the pit of his stomach and radiating outward, enveloping him in a comforting embrace. 

Without even realizing it, his hand moved towards you, lifting a strand of your hair and gently holding it between his scarred fingers. In the past, he would have hesitated to touch another person so intimately, but in this moment, there was no hesitation, no sense of reluctance, only a pull to you and you only. Was this part of what it meant to be a Reaper? He wondered, to cause such comfort in those you kept company? To make them feel like this? 

He watched the way the strand of hair caught the light, twirling it between his fingers with a tenderness he had never known himself capable of. He met your eyes, slightly widened, observing him intently. With a soft smile, Azriel spoke, "I see you too, Y/n.”

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

His view was filled with rolling hills, vibrant in green hues, a gentle afternoon sun in the sky. In the distance, he could hear the faint sounds of babbling brooks and streams, a soothing melody that seemed to blend seamlessly with the rustle of the wind through the grass, through the leaves of the trees that surrounded you. Azriel understood why Mor was so fond of her estate, why she ran off to it when she could. If it was surrounded with views like this, with such quiet life, beautiful life, he would escape to it, too. Beside him, you lay on the soft grass, your hair spread out around you like a halo. 

Despite the open air, Azriel felt groggy, his eyelids heavier than they’d felt in a while. Something felt strange, a trickling sense of anxiety within his body. The wind in his hair and the air on his arms, on his wings, didn’t feel the same— it wasn’t as lively, wasn’t as strong. There was a sharp throb in the back of his head, sending a sudden wave of pain crashing over him. He grimaced and let out a low groan.

Instinctively, you jumped up at the sound, angling your body to face him, concern painting your features. Your heart dropped as you watched him bring a hand to the back of his head, brows furrowed in discomfort.

Amidst pained groans, Azriel turned to you with a frown. "I’m sorry. I just- I keep having these horrible headaches.”

You let out a small breath.

"It's because you're healing," you murmured softly, your voice tinged with sorrow. Your gaze lingered on him, sadness flickering across your features. When Azriel’s eyes met yours, you quickly blinked away any evidence of it, calling forward a gentle, unassuming, face. 

His hand dropped slowly from the back of his head. "I am?" he echoed.

You extended your hand, hovering it gently over the back of his head where his hand had been moments ago. "This is where you damaged your skull," you explained softly,. "The injury that got you... Well, here. With me." Your gaze swept around the tranquil surroundings, a small, bittersweet smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Any progress in your physical body, you feel here too," you continued, your voice tender yet matter-of-fact. "The ache is calling you back."

"Back to my life," Azriel murmured, the words barely audible as they slipped from his lips, softening and fading before they fully formed.

You nodded, a lump in the back of your throat. 

Azriel's expression shifted abruptly, a flash of tension replacing the settled calmness that had graced his face for quite some time now.  "I don't want to go back," he said. It was a tone of voice you’d never heard from him before, a sense of desperation that didn’t fit him. 

 You shook your head gently. "You don't mean that.”

But Azriel remained resolute. Moving closer, he reached out, his hand coming to rest atop yours on your thigh. "I do," he insisted, his tone unwavering. “Y/n, I do.”

“Azriel,” You said sternly. “You have a life waiting for you, a long life.”

“But I’m so tired. All the time,Y/n” he admitted, his voice heavy with weariness. “And this,” he gestured around him, his eyes lingering on the rolling green hills, "this is the most at peace I’ve ever felt."

You felt a selfish impulse, a desire to indulge in his fantasy, to urge him to stay, to fight against the inevitable pull back to reality. But you knew it wasn't fair, that it wasn’t right. If you truly cared for someone, you had to be fair to them. And you cared for Azriel– cared for him in a way you’d never felt before. 

“But it’s not real,” you interjected softly, leaning in, your brows furrowed, your forehead creased with concern. "This isn’t a life.This isn’t a reality— this is an in-between. Sooner or later, you will find yourself on one end.”

Azriel couldn’t understand. His heart hurt. Why weren’t you agreeing with him? Why weren’t you telling him to stay, convincing him it was worth it? This peace he felt with you, this quiet life you lived, he could stay. He would stay. 

“You’re real,” he whispered, his voice tinged with desperation. “And right now, this...” he trailed off, his gaze sweeping over your face, "this feels real to me.”

You took a deep breath, feeling knots tightening in your stomach, a lump forming in your throat. You swallowed down the words you wanted to say, replacing the ones on your tongue with those he needed to hear. 

"I'm a Reaper," you said, reminding him of the inevitable separation it entailed. His eyes, a dark, almost sad brown, met yours. “Reapers aren’t meant to stay.”

The knots in your stomach were twisting now, weaving themselves through your ribs. It was hard for you to breathe, hard for you to look at Azriel as he stared at you with such clear hurt on his face. He couldn’t stay. It wasn’t natural. It wasn’t the plan. Azriel was going to return to a life where he would not remember you, a life in which you didn’t exist. And you would remain here, waiting in a form of existence that had no time. 

"Your family misses you," you continued, your gaze unwavering as you locked eyes with him. The knots now wrapped around your heart, squeezing.  "You still have things to do. They need you. You need them."

Surely your heart was about to burst, the pressure in your chest now overwhelming– crushing you, your heartbeat erratic. 

“Come with me.” Azriel said.

You let out a small breath, a soft laugh escaping your lips at the absurdity of his suggestion. It sounded so simple, so easy, but you knew better. It wasn't that simple, life was never that easy. You were a Reaper. He was a soul. Before you could respond, Azriel continued, his voice still gentle but earnest.

"You'll love them. And you'll love Velaris when it is filled with people. With life."

His eyes bore into you, seemingly searching for something, trying to memorize every contour of your face, every flicker of emotion that danced across your features. 

"I can't," you replied softly, your heart heavy with the weight of your duty. You shook your head again as you tightened your lips for a moment. "That's not how this works.”

Azriel's demeanor softened, a small breath of defeat escaping him as his wings drooped slightly. He took in everything you said, his gaze flickering down to where his hand still rested atop yours before meeting your eyes again.

"I don’t want to leave you here," he said quietly.

Here, alone, he thought. It was true, everything was so beautiful in this form of existence. It was quiet, serene, and calm. The nights were beautiful, the days were glorious. But without you, it would have been empty. Void of life. He didn’t want that for you, he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you in such a vast space. It felt wrong. 

You recognized the concern in his eyes, realizing that his desperation stemmed from a place of caring– caring for you.  It struck a chord within you, stirring a bittersweet pang in your chest, right beside your rapidly beating, tied up heart. Somehow, knowing that he cared for you only made you care for him more, deepening the sorrow that lingered in you, the feeling that now coursed through your veins. 

Tilting your head, you offered him a soft smile, a gesture of reassurance, you hoped. "Azriel," you said gently, your voice tinged with a warmth he had grown to love,  "I'll be alright. I'm happy here. It's where I belong."

It wasn’t all a lie. This was where you belonged, and you would be alright. But you weren’t sure if you’d be happy. Happiness wasn’t something you used to think of. You had a duty, a sacred, important duty, nothing else really mattered— not yourself, not your desires, not your heart. 

Azriel took in your answer, swallowing the urge to fight it, to convince you further.  But the pleading in your eyes, coupled with the ache in his chest and the heaviness in his stomach, left him feeling defeated. With a resigned nod, he looked at you, his voice soft but determined.

"I'll find you," he whispered.

You blinked, caught off guard by the soft declaration.

"I'll find you," Azriel said again, his tone firmer, as if he were making a promise that he intended to keep.

You understood the sentiment behind his words, recognizing the determination in his eyes. You knew, without needing to discuss it, that as a skilled spymaster, he possessed the ability to find people. Yet, deep down, you also understood the inevitable truth—that soon, he would forget you, forget the time you spent together. The thought caused a sharp ache in your heart, one you preferred not to dwell on.

So, with a heavy heart, you simply nodded and murmured, "Okay." And offered him a smile. 

You sat there in silence, the weight of his words hanging in the air around you. Breathing in the crisp, fresh air, you let the sounds of nature wash over you, grounding you in the present moment. Your gaze lingered on his face, committing every detail to memory, as if carving it into your very being. You wanted to remember this. Remember him, his touch, his care for you. 

Azriel—the shadowsinger, the spymaster, a skilled killer. And then there was you—the servant of the Mother, a guide for souls, bound by duty and devotion. Death and his Reaper. What a poetic pair you made.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

It was time. 

You had been right, when you talked him down before, sitting on the beautiful green hill.  Azriel had a life to return to, a family he missed– a family that missed him. He didn’t belong here, no matter how much he wished he could. He could feel it, nestled within his ribs, a deep pull to his body. 

Azriel stood in the familiar confines of the River house, his gaze fixed on the bed where his physical form lay peacefully. He took in the sight of his body, now filled with color, vibrant and alive, a stark contrast to the pale, lifeless form he had been when he first awoke. 

A sense of disorientation washed over him as he realized he was back here, in this room, though he couldn't recall making the conscious decision to return. From behind him, he felt your presence, a familiar energy that always seemed to embrace him with a comfortable warmth, the sweet smell in his nose.

 "I didn't even realize I was coming here.” Azriel said. 

Without turning, he heard your soft voice. "You never do," you replied simply, “Your body calls and you answer.”

Azriel nodded slowly, the lump in his throat making it difficult to speak. He breathed out heavily. He longed to turn and look at you, to embrace your presence, trace the features of your face. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Not yet. He wasn't ready. He wasn't ready to confront the truth that lay before him—that he wanted to go back, back to the land of the living, to his family, to embrace his life once more. But he wasn't ready for what he needed to do in order to return– wasn’t ready to say goodbye to you.

“Azriel,” You said, as you gently placed your hand on his arm. He turned to look at you, his heart skipping a beat.The faelight cast a soft glow on your body, illuminating the delicate features of your face, dancing through your hair like shimmering strands of moonlight. And there it was—the small, reassuring smile that you had offered him so many times before. The smile you had given to him when he first woke up, afraid and alarmed, in the same place he stood now. 

He couldn't help but feel a flicker of happiness at the sight of your gentle smile, but just as quickly as the feeling washed over him, it was replaced by a bittersweet pang of realization. The reality of why you were here, why you were looking at him with such tender affection, why he could barely feel your touch— and why his head throbbed with searing pain. He glanced over his shoulder at his sleeping form, and then looked at you again. 

“Y/n, I-”

You gently shook your head, a soft shushing sound escaping your lips as you reached out to calm him. "It's okay," you reassured him, your voice gentle but firm. "You won’t feel a thing."

But Azriel shook his head too, his expression filled with concern as he took your hands in his. "That's not what I'm worried about," he admitted quietly.

You met his gaze, taking in every detail of his face, breathing in his scent. Your gaze drifted towards his wings, so beautiful, so powerful. And then you looked back at him.

"I'll be okay." 

It was a promise, not just to him, but to yourself.

Azriel's senses dulled and the pain intensified, a sense of desperation washed over him. He thought back to your conversations earlier. He never figured out how time worked here, perhaps the conversation had been days ago, even weeks. But, to him, it felt like hours prior. Maybe a day, if he was being generous. Still, his mind raced with thoughts, with things he wanted to tell you, to ask of you, things that hadn’t been there before. Ask me what you really want to, Azriel, you had said, so he did.

“Am I worthy?” His voice rang out, unsure, afraid— of the answer, of what the question meant. “Am I worthy of this life? Is… is it worth it?”

You smiled. A broad, bright, and kind smile. 

You felt Azriel's hands tremble slightly in yours, guiding them to your lips. With tender reverence, you pressed a small, tender kiss upon his scarred flesh. “Yes,” you whispered, “If only you knew.”

You understood now, why The Mother always urged for a swift journey. You weren’t supposed to spend such intimate times with your souls, you weren’t supposed to grow comfortable in their presence, to learn about their favorite candies and the way their mothers smelled. You weren’t supposed to because it distracted you from your duty– and more importantly, you weren’t supposed to because it prevented you from the heartache you felt now. A piercing pain in your chest, a heaviness in your stomach. 

You lifted a hand and gently placed it on his cheek. The warmth of your touch radiated through his body, sending a wave of indescribable sensation coursing through him. The world seemed to blur around him, the ringing in his ears drowning out all other sound. He squinted against the growing brightness, his head throbbing with a relentless ache. He heard your voice, soft like honey, sweet like tea, whispering in his ear in perfect clarity. 

“Goodbye, Azriel.”

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Azriel jolted upright, his body propelled by a surge of adrenaline that left him momentarily breathless. With a deep inhale, he struggled to steady his racing heart, his surroundings swimming into focus with agonizing slowness.

Each detail of the room seemed to materialize before him in excruciating detail, from the soft glow of the morning light filtering through the window to the faint murmur of voices drifting from the doorway. His hand instinctively went to the back of his head, a gesture born of instinct rather than any physical discomfort. Confusion furrowed his brow as he tried to recall why he had woken with such a start, where he currently was, why he laid on a bare bed, but the memory seemed frustratingly out of reach– blurry and unfocused. 

As Azriel's eyes adjusted to the soft light filtering through the room, the door creaked open, a distant sound barely registering in his slow mind. Before he could fully comprehend what was happening, a blur of motion filled his vision and Cassian was upon him, bounding forward with a crushing embrace. "There's my boy!" 

With a startled gasp, Azriel felt the air rush out of his lungs as Cassian's hug engulfed him, the force of the impact momentarily disorienting him further than he already was. A small, involuntary sound—a mixture of surprise and amusement—escaped his lips as he tried to regain his bearings. Azriel's gaze flickered past Cassian’s broad shoulders, to where Rhysand stood in the doorway, his expression a mix of concern and amusement.

"Okay, Cass," Rhysand said, walking towards the bed. "Let him breathe. We don’t want to give him another head injury."

Cassian released Azriel from his enthusiastic embrace, though a joyous gleam danced in his eyes as he stepped back, offering Azriel a sheepish grin. "My bad," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of embarrassment, “I just missed ya.” 

Rhysand stood casually, a playful smirk dancing across his lips. "If you were seeking attention, Az, you could've simply asked," he said with a wave of his hand. "No need to resort to dying for it."

The comment elicited a shocked blink from Azriel, his brows furrowing in confusion. "I- What?" he echoed. A few of his shadows slithered up his arms, wrapping themselves across his shoulders, the cool trail of them relieving tension in his upper body. 

Rhysand let out a small laugh as he clapped him on the shoulder with a reassuring grin. "You have a lot of catching up to do, brother," Rhysand remarked, “Let's get you back to the land of the living.”

Azriel offered a small, uncertain laugh in response, the corners of his lips curling upwards into a hesitant smile, his mind still cloudy, disoriented. Rhysand and Cassian began talking, referring to him, attempting to fill Azriel in, but he wasn’t paying attention, their voices blending into a distant hum.

Instead, Azriel's attention was drawn to an inexplicable warmth on his cheek. Instinctively, he lifted his hand and gently touched the spot, feeling the comforting heat beneath his fingertips. He frowned, trying to make sense of the sensation, but the warmth seemed to soothe his lingering disorientation, grounding him in the present moment with a sense of…ease. 

Azriel's attention shifted towards the corner of the room, where a soft beam of sunlight filtered through the window. A handful of his shadows floated and twirled, their graceful movements dancing within the warm glow. He smiled, tilting his head at the sight, his hand still on his cheek. What a beautiful sight, Azriel thought. And then he was turning his attention back to his brothers, a wide smile now on his cheeks. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

y'all... imagine meeting ur soulmate but u can only see her when ur dead and cant remember her otherwise lol sucks for azriel.