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dark-fics-4-you · 10 months ago

Note

Thinking about dark overprotective Rafe Cameron with pregnant clumsy reader 🥹💕

Love Plus One

A/N: i hope this lives up to your fantasies 😉

Warnings: noncon/forced sex, coercion, smut, forced pregnancy (but reader doesn’t know), pregnant sex, abusive relationship, guilt tripping, choking, slut shaming, slapping, controlling behavior, threats of violence, reader has some negative thoughts about her pregnant body

After the first time that you slipped in the shower without Rafe there to catch you, despite that fact that you had easily caught yourself before falling, Rafe had made you promise to not take any more showers without him. “If I had been there, you probably wouldn’t have slipped in the first place,” he grumbled.

Rafe suddenly became very involved in prepping and cooking meals for you. He gave you plenty of options, planning weekly menus for you and shopping accordingly, all to make sure that both you, and his baby, were getting all of the nutrients you needed. Rafe always did love your cooking, but now he chose to cook for you practically every night. “You shouldn’t have to be running around the kitchen when you’re pregnant, baby.”

You noticed one day that there was a location tracking app on your phone that you hadn’t downloaded, when you angrily asked Rafe about it, the look of worry on his face almost made you want to cry, “I just get anxious when you’re out sweetheart. The world is full of men that would love nothing more than to hurt you, and I did that to make sure you were staying safe, Y/N.” His eyes flicked between your eyes and your growing belly, which was now beginning to show much more. After that you apologized to him for getting mad about it, giving him a big hug.

Rafe would want to spend all of his time with you, which you found cute at first, but after a while, you started to feel a bit suffocated by him. Your boyfriend was so concerned about “keeping you safe” that he would barely allow you to leave your shared house.

Even walking around the neighborhood or, god forbid, running, was completely off limits.

You knew that it was because you were clumsy, he was right. You always had been, but now was not the time for being accident prone. Not when you had Rafe Cameron’s child growing inside of you.

However, you did feel like at times he could be overprotective of you. Even demeaning occasionally. Like he didn’t trust you to make your own decisions.

When you drove to the store at just 4 months pregnant, Rafe called you 5 times before you finally picked up. You had just wanted to get out of the house for a bit and enjoy the spring air while getting some chores done, but when you returned home one would have thought that you had been skiing on Mount Everest, given Rafe’s reaction. “Why would you leave without telling me? I would have gone to the store for you, Y/N! You shouldn’t have even been carrying those bags by yourself!” Pointing out how little you had actually ended up purchasing, just two plastic bags worth of things, was pointless. “You could have fallen or-or some guy could have kidnapped you!” He huffed, and you could feel the list of locations you could go alone, or even with Rafe, dwindling down to only one place, your apartment.

Rafe had always been incredibly touchy with you, one of the reasons you had gotten pregnant with his baby in the first place. It’s not that you didn’t want kids, you had just always imagined that it would have been different, you would be older and married, and living in a 2 story house with your husband of several years.

Instead, here you were, still in your early 20s, pregnant with your boyfriend of 3 years’ child. You loved Rafe and could see yourself marrying him one day, but you were both still so young! Getting pregnant this early had never been in the plans.

Despite using birth control and condoms, you had somehow gotten pregnant, a fact that took you a while to accept, and after Rafe urged you to not get an abortion, you begrudgingly accepted that you were going to be a mother a couple years sooner than expected.

Of course, you had no idea that this was no accident at all. Rafe had been swapping out your birth control pills for placebos and poking holes in every condom he put on. Of course one of his favorite things about you being pregnant was that he could finally fuck you raw now.

Pregnancy hormones had definitely upped your libido at the beginning of your pregnancy, a fact that thrilled Rafe. He had never felt so desired by you, and he was more than happy to oblige with all of your requests.

Anytime you were feeling under the weather or upset about something, Rafe would coax you into bed and eat you out for what felt like hours. He loved your changing body so much, always kissing and sucking on your full, sensitive breasts and rubbing your growing tummy. The blond would slowly delve between your plush thighs, gingerly kissing and nipping at your soft skin before turning his attention to your already slick pussy, eagerly lapping up your juices and teasing your clit.

Rafe loved to satisfy you, but he also loved to draw it out as long as possible, keeping you on the brink of coming for ten minutes before finally giving in to your begging whimpers. He loved the feeling of you coming on his tongue, the way you tasted and how you squirmed in his grasp, tears forming in your eyes when you whined that it was too much for you.

You would come again just from him teasing you with the tip of his cock, rubbing it along your messy slit and tapping it against your already tender clit.

When he pushed all of himself inside of you, you hissed in a wonderful mix of pleasure and pain, wrapping your legs around his waist and digging your nails into his broad shoulders.

Rafe loved watching your face as he fucked you, the way your eyes would unfocus as you looked up at him, your plump lips separating and the beautiful sound of your moans and whimpers was almost enough to make him bury his load in you immediately, but the feel of your tight cunt squeezing his cock was a sensation he didn’t want to give up just yet.

He plunged himself into your dripping pussy over and over again, filling you up in a way that made your eyes squeeze shut, toes curling as you clung to him.

After you came a third time, tensing around him and crying as you mindlessly babbled through whimpers, Rafe’s large hand covered your mouth, and the doe eyes you gave him as he frantically rutted into you made him spill all of his warm cum into your soaked cunt.

Every time he pulled out of you, he would reach for your sensitive pussy, spreading your lips and watching his cum begin to drip out of you before pushing it deeper inside your pussy with two fingers. God he wished he could get you pregnant again while you were already pregnant. Just one kid wasn’t enough for Rafe Cameron, and unbeknownst to you, he had plans for the two of you to have a large family.

Gradually, as your body changed, so did your sex drive. Rafe showered you with compliments as always, reminding you constantly how much he loved your body and the way it looked now, which made you a bit torn. Personally, you felt you were now less desirable, and it made you much more reluctant to give in to his high demands.

Rafe respected your boundaries at first, although he never failed to complain about his needs not being met, and even though you were sure of your decisions, you couldn’t help but feel guilty that you couldn’t satisfy him sexually every night.

After a full week of you denying him, Rafe was fed up with your ‘no’s’

“Maybe we shouldn’t have sex tonight Rafe,” you nervously stammered. “I’m just not feeling the best about my body right now.”

“So let me make you feel good baby,” Rafe purred in your ear, sensually rubbing your thighs, which you were squeezing together.

You still didn’t feel up to having sex tonight, and you told your boyfriend as much, but it was like he wasn’t listening to you.

His fingers creeped down your thighs, his strong arms slowly pried your legs apart and you flinched when he began rubbing you over the fabric of your shorts.

“Rafe, please.” You begged with him, anxiety building in your chest when he still didn’t stop.

“Please what?” He mocked you, slipping his fingers past your panties and teasing your clit. You squirmed in his grasp, a sick feeling settling in your gut when you realized Rafe was determined to get what he wanted.

When you tried to push his hand away, the other flew out, slapping you across the face, hard enough to shock you without leaving a mark.

“Stop fucking moving!” He shouted at you and you could feel tears welling behind your eyes. “You’re gonna hurt our baby.”

You tried to tell him that you didn’t want to have to fight off your boyfriend of 3 years, that you were only resisting in the first place because he hadn’t respected your ‘no,’ but when Rafe pushed all of himself inside of you with one thrust, your mind went blank and you froze beneath him.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, arms shaking slightly as he basked in the feeling of your unprepared cunt squeezing his cock. “I swear to god, you’ve only gotten tighter, baby. Y’feel so good.”

Hot tears were streaming down your cheeks, from both physical discomfort and distress at what your boyfriend was doing to you, the way he was violating you.

Every stroke of his cock was agonizing, and even after your body had adjusted and it began to feel good, the fact that you hadn’t wanted this at all tainted the entire experience. You felt ashamed by the delicious way his cock stretched you out and how your body reacted to his touch.

You had given up fighting back altogether, Rafe’s thinly veiled threat echoing in your ears every time you wanted to push him off of you, although his hands had yours gripped so tight, there was no chance you could have gotten away.

You were scared because Rafe was hurting you, but you were even more terrified at the thought of him hurting your baby.

When your release hit you unexpectedly, you felt utterly betrayed by your body. Your tear choked whimpers filled the room as you came around him, accompanied by the lewd sounds of Rafe plunging his cock into you repeatedly.

Rafe sneered down at you as he snapped his hips against yours, “I thought you didn’t want this, hm? So reluctant until I stuff my cock in you and then you can’t get enough.”

His words made your face burn with shame, and your stomach flipped in disgust at both him and yourself.

When his free hand wrapped around your throat, your eyes widened and you jerked against his touch, but his hold on you was unwavering and unforgiving.

“I’m not gonna let you walk all over me just because you’re pregnant.” Rafe seethed, his pace picking up as he chased his release. “You’ve got my kid growing inside you. Just means you belong to me now even more than you did before.”

His fingers tightened around your throat as he came, choking you so hard your vision started to grow fuzzy and black around the edges. The feeling of his sticky cum coating your walls made you want to throw up.

Rafe pulled out and you realized he was talking to you, but you couldn’t hear anything he said, you just nodded numbly, trying to come back to reality as your ears rang and his muffled voice filled the tense air that was permeating the room.

“-maybe now you’ll actually fucking listen to me,” he rambled on, and as you nervously laid in bed beside him, trying to doze off and forget everything that he had just done to you, you realized you were utterly terrified of your boyfriend.

#rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #dark rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron noncon #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfic #dark!rafe x reader #dark!rafe cameron x reader #love plus one

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mrfutureboy · 2 years ago

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skfkdkksksk

#original entry #cw vent #i am just...so frustrated all the time #not like constantly or 24/7 but every week or every other week(end) i just get refrustrated over the same thing #im in my head abt it rn bc my 1yr anniversary with my partner is coming up but our future just looks so...far away. unclear.#weve talked for a while abt moving in together. nothing happened. i put my foot down like 'lets actually work towards this' and we looked #at places and tried to schedule tours tho unfortunately were never able to bc most placed never got back to us (one place was straight up #and said they werent able to do tours rn which yanno fine)#this was really stressing me out but ultimately out of my control #after that they said they wanted to wait until they got a better job which is fine but its been several months and im not sure when they #even last applied anywhere #on one hand i know that its stressful job hunting and so i want to be patient #but on the other hand sometimes i feel like all i do is wait around for them and im fucking tired of waiting #ive lived at home since march 2020 and am now in a place financially where i could move out but i feel like im being held back #i do want to have a life w my partner but they dont always act like they want to despite saying they do #im fucking sick of spending weekends at their parents house (bc they r in a similar situation like me) and driving back and forth all the #time. i hate leaving bc i feel like i shouldnt have to leave bc we should just be living together #but then sometimes im not sure i do wanna live together #im so conflicted and stressed and i hate that i have to be frustrated over this so often bc i shouldnt have to fucking tell them over and #over i should just be listened to and acknowledged #i want the fucking truth i want their actions to reflect their words i want to actually feel like we can be adults and live together and #work towards a future but they cant even pick out fucking cereal to eat in the morning

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itsswritten · 9 months ago

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gone. | 2

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: Slight angst, unrequited love, fluff, reconciliation, kind of miscommunication.

Summary: Sometimes it take's heartbreak to move on.

<< Previous Part

The voice beckoned to him like a siren's call, pulling Azriel through the familiar halls of the house in a daze. His shadows moved with urgency, some darting ahead while others tugged at their master, urging him to quicken his pace.

There was a small part of him that knew why they were behaving in such a way, but there was a sinking feeling that came with that revelation.

Azriel felt as though he had forgotten how to breathe when he finally laid eyes on you.

Of course it was your melodic voice that had drawn him.

Caught in a bear hug by Cassian, you were lifted off the ground and spun around amidst the joyful chaos of your friends who had gathered in the foyer of the River House to greet you. You had returned at last. Your laughter rippled through the house, filling it with a warmth that had been dearly missed.

Six months had passed.

Six agonising months. 182 days.

Azriel had been counting every single one since the moment you departed after Solstice.

The day after your departure, Rhys had declared that you had been sent on an urgent undercover mission to the continent. It was a mission originally briefed for both you and Azriel, but in the span of mere hours since your last interaction with the Shadowsinger, the plan had shifted. To Azriel's dismay, Rhys had approved your solo assignment.

Azriel had argued vehemently with Rhys that day, his frustration boiling over until he was blue in the face. But Rhys remained steadfast, unwilling to change his decision or disclose your whereabouts. Azriel knew deep down that you had been sent alone because of him, that you had chosen a means to escape from the pain he had caused you, and the weight of that knowledge only added to his self-hatred.

After you left him in the library that night, Azriel had desperately searched for you, his heart heavy with regret. He wanted to speak with you, to mend the fractured pieces of your friendship. But despite his efforts, you remained elusive, slipping through his fingers like mist.

Even his shadows, loyal companions that they were, failed to locate you. Always returning empty-handed. It was as though you had vanished into the night, leaving Azriel to grapple with his own turmoil alone. He knew his shadows wouldn't divulge your whereabouts even if they found you; their allegiance to you had always been unwavering.

Their disobedience was a punishment he deserved. You didn’t owe him anything more than you had already shared. You had already revealed your heart to him.

And your heart wasn’t something he ever imagined being worthy of.

So he pleaded with his shadows then, if they wouldn’t tell him where you were that they must promise to keep you safe.

And with that several tendrils left him, not hesitating with their duty.

Though the end of your mission was anticipated, the exact date of your return remained uncertain. Due to the covert nature of your assignment, communication had been scarce. Yet, every now and then, a note bearing your unmistakable perfect handwriting would appear in the dining room.

Safe. It would reassure.

And for a brief moment your family would ease from their worries, Azriel though, remained on edge, his concerns never truly leaving.

Frozen in place, Azriel watched as tears of joy flowed freely from his family's eyes, overwhelmed by your homecoming. Despite the trials you had undoubtedly faced, you appeared radiant, a sun-kissed glow gracing your skin that perhaps spoke subtly of where you may have been stationed on your journey.

Azriel’s eyes slowly moved over your features, his gaze taking in every inch of you. Devouring this moment and saving it somewhere deep in his mind, because this version of you he didn’t deserve. He felt unworthy of the sight before him, fearing that you would never want to share this radiant version of yourself with him.

His throat tightened as your face turned to him, catching him lurking with his shadows in the corner. His companions that had accompanied you through your time away, quickly returned to their master, fluttering quickly to be amongst the others, seeking approval that they’d done their job. That they’d kept you safe.

But Azriel couldn’t even bask in their return as he stared at you. Azriel was terrified, terrified of what expression would bore your face when you saw him. He had caused you so much pain, surely you detested him? But instead your expression became bright and your smile spread wider at the sight of him.

Azriel dared not trust his heart to continue beating if your expression had reflected true hatred. It was a fear that had haunted his every dream since the day you departed, a relentless torment that gripped him. So when your expression softened into that smile that reached your eyes he felt himself slump in relief.

In the six months of your absence, something within him had changed. Your confession, with your absence, had lifted a veil that had clouded his vision for far too long.

With you no longer by his side, Azriel had felt the void you left behind keenly. He had always held you in the highest regard, placing you on a pedestal that he believed himself unworthy to approach. There were times he had even considered himself unworthy of your friendship, which was why he cherished you so dearly. But your confession to him, had shattered the barriers he had erected, revealing how the depth of his own self-worth had brought blindness to himself.

And in turn, caused you so much pain.

“Azriel.” You smiled softly, tilting your head as you took in your best friend. Despite the turmoil churning within him, he couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope stir in his chest at the sight of you.

You’re not sure you’d seen him look so broken in all your centuries of knowing him, and there was a twang of guilt that surged through your chest. With two quick strides you moved to him, knowing he was too respectful to cross that boundary himself.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him into a warm embrace.

For a moment, he simply allowed himself to bask in the comfort of your presence, the familiar scent of you filling his senses and calming the anxiety raging within him. It took a while for him to trust his movements, before he let his arms wrap around your back, fully sinking into your warmth and hold.

His heartbeat was loud, fast and fluttering. Concern filled the outer corners of your mind as you felt your friend's composure falter, how rare it was to see him this way.

Drawing back gently, you met the gaze of your friend. His eyes, a mesmerising hazel, held a sadness within them that made your heart ache. His long lashes fluttered with each blink, and his jaw was pulled tightly as if not trusting himself to speak.

You couldn’t help but indulge in his beauty for a moment, as sad as he may have looked. Azriel had always looked like he’d been carved by the gods, so painstakingly beautiful. It had been so easy to fall for this face, and you had to be careful to not do it again.

When you left, things had reached a breaking point. It felt less like a departure and more like an escape—a desperate bid to flee from the shattered remnants of your heart and friendship. True, the mission loomed ahead, a joint task that was supposed to be with Azriel, and was still a month away. But facing him, working side by side after his rejection, seemed an unimaginable task. So you made the choice to run, to seize control for yourself.

So you ran away that night. Stealing the reports from Rhys’s office was a risky move, but it felt like the only option. You had to do this alone. You had sent a mental message to Rhys of your choice, he didn’t once force you to return. Despite your actions being so unlike yourself, perhaps it was the raw vulnerability he had witnessed in the hallway that night that steered his hand in giving you this control. Instead, Rhys supported your decision, expecting you to stay in touch and made you promise you would let them know if you needed help.

But that time and space was exactly what you needed. Those six months became a transformation. At first, the weight of your heart was heavy. The bitterness of rejection, a constant companion, thoughts of Azriel and Elain often haunted your daydreaming and nights.

Yet, with time, you found comfort in solitude. You had learned to embrace the stillness, confront the pain and eventually allow yourself the space to heal. Your day-to-day tasks of stealth, stalking and slaughtering was also a welcomed distraction, but in the midst of some close encounters it really did give you a new perspective.

That even though your romantic feelings towards Azriel may have been rejected, you still refused to let that fracture your friendship. You realised you would much rather suffer a little, to ensure your friends happiness even if that wasn’t with you.

Sacrificing your own desires for Azriel felt like a small price to pay.

For Azriel deserved nothing less than that. Out of all your family, your brooding friend truly deserved the most. And if Elain was the key to his happiness, then you would embrace her presence in his life, even as it stirred heartbreak within you.

And instead you would be grateful for the parts of him you did get to have– his laughter, his counsel, his friendship.

Because a life without Azriel, wasn’t a life you wanted to live.

Azriel found himself captivated by your gaze, drawn into the depths of your eyes after so long apart. There was a sadness etched into his features that caused your brows to furrow sympathetically. With a tender hand, you reached out, your hand finding its way to his cheek. The gentle pressure of your touch– something he had longed for so deeply in these months apart, made his eyes close briefly, a shaky exhale escaping his lips in response.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that” you whispered, pulling a soft smile onto your lips hoping your optimism in this would give him the reassurance he needed. It dawned on you then, the toll your abrupt departure and heartfelt confession might have taken on him. How you should have known he would spiral into self-blame.

Azriel's throat tightened with emotion as he struggled to find the right words to express his own feelings. "Gods, I have missed you," he finally whispered, his voice laced with a softness as he met your gaze, his hands were on your waist now and he was completely lost in you.

Lost in that beautiful glowing smile you had so kindly shared with him.

He needed to speak with you, needed to apologise, needed to try and repair the damage he had unknowingly caused. Explain to you how he was the foolish one, admit he had been blind not only to you but his own feelings. But before he could even phantom how he would express all that, Mor was quick to tug you away.

“How come he gets that kind of welcome? I want more of you!” Mor whined, her tone teasing as she looped her arm around yours.

It was clear Rhys had kept to your word on not sharing your true reason for a hasty escape. No, that was something between you and Azriel only.

And even though your family had noticed a shift with Azriel during your absence, they chalked it up to only missing you.

❊

Your reunion with your family was filled with laughter and chatter as they eagerly filled you in on everything you had missed during your absence. 6 months to Fae, in the grand scheme of things was such a small amount of time, but your life, your family dynamic was so different now that you felt as though you had missed so much. They seemed to take turns vying for your attention, each craving a moment in your company. Mor was the first to claim her spot, promptly sprawling across your lap, her hair cascading around her as she regaled you with tales of the latest gossip from Rita’s.

Next came Nyx, rousing from his nap to claim his turn on your lap. As you held him, a mixture of joy and sadness swirled within you, struck by how rapidly he was growing and how much you felt you had missed. Then it was Cassian's turn, settling on the floor between your legs with his wings spread awkwardly to either side of your chair. Apparently, you were the only one who could braid his hair gently enough, as Nesta was too harsh he had told you before sending his mate a glare which she ignored with an eye roll.

Your fingers moved with practised ease as they threaded through his locks, weaving them into two neat plaits while the voices of your family filled the room. Amidst the chatter, one name struck a chord within you, causing you to momentarily freeze.

“So yeah, Elain moved in with Lucien about four months ago,” Feyre continued, unaware of the effect her words had on you. “They’re living in Day Court now, but I’ll make sure to send word to her about your return. She’ll be so happy to know you’re back.”

Your gaze involuntarily drifted towards the Shadowsinger, who had been silent since your arrival but now fixed his intense stare on you. Confusion swirled within you. While you were aware of Lucien and Elain's bond, and you couldn't deny the strength of any mating bond, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more between her and Azriel.

Wasn’t there?

If there wasn’t, what had you walked in on all those months ago?

"I swear they’ll be tying the knot soon, absolutely besotted with each other," Feyre exclaimed with a radiant smile.

"That's wonderful news, Fey. I'm genuinely happy for them. Perhaps we should plan a trip to visit them in Day soon," you suggested.

"Oh, count me in!" Mor chimed in enthusiastically. "And a chance to see Helion again wouldn't hurt," she added with a playful purr, eliciting an eye roll from you as you finished braiding Cassian's hair.

“Get the chance to have any fun on your trip?” Mor continued, shooting you a teasing look.

“Trip?” You scoffed. “It was a high-stakes mission, not some holiday.”

“No time for any kind of fun at all then?” She pouted. You knew exactly what she was implying.

You hesitated for a moment, you could feel his eyes on you. As if anticipating your answer. Azriel’s gaze hadn’t left you since you’d arrived, and if you didn’t know him so well you might have considered it unsettling.

But you hadn't had any fun. As Mor liked to call it. Not that there hadn't been a few opportunities to seek the warmth of someones bed, but the calling to do so never came.

“No fun for me.” You ignored his gaze, tilting your head “Sadly.” you added.

“Shame, I was really hoping for some juicy insights of your escapades.” Mor sang.

The conversation veered toward planning a long-overdue night out at Rita’s, and you let your friends debate whether it should be exclusively a girls' night, with Cassian humorously advocating for his inclusion.

Seizing a moment while your friends were engrossed in their discussion, you quietly rose from your seat and made your way toward the Shadowsinger, who observed you with an unreadable expression. Offering him a gentle smile, you gestured for him to follow you out of the room.

Your departure went unnoticed by the rest of your family, a testament to your usual stealthy movements. There was a reason you and Azriel were usually paired together on missions, always so silent and unseen. But, you felt a sense of urgency in having this conversation with Azriel, especially after six long months.

Out in the garden, the setting sun bathed the surroundings in a golden hue, casting warm light over the grass and flowers. You noticed here Elain's absence more, the garden not as vibrant without her green-fingered touch.

You settled onto a bench, closing your eyes momentarily to bask in the sun's rays kissing your face. Azriel could have just stayed in that moment indefinitely, captured by the soft expression on your face that basked under the sunlight. He moved quietly beside you, the proximity of you was something he had missed and it was taking every control he had not to hug you again.

And was it only a hug he wanted?

Either way he still felt unworthy of your touch.

“I think we should probably talk…” you chuckled sheepishly, suddenly feeling slightly awkward but you faced him, and he replied with a nod.

There were words brewing inside Azriel, thoughts and feelings he had only recently come to terms with in your absence. But before he could find the courage to speak, you surprised him with an unexpected apology.

“I’m really sorry Az.”

Azriel began to shake his head. He was confused, you had nothing to be sorry for.

“Az, please, let me say my piece,” you insisted, your hands finding his on his lap. Your touch sent a shiver down his spine as your thumb traced over the scars on his hands. “It was unfair of me. I’ve realised that now. The position I put you in.”

Azriel shook his head gently, but you pressed on, your gaze drifting to the sky as you cringed a little when reflecting on your confession you had dramatically spilled to Azriel all those months ago. “The expectations I had for you, expecting you to return my feelings when I had never even made my affection clear—it was unfair.”

“Y/n…” Azriel murmured softly, disbelief colouring his voice.

“It’s my fault for not being honest,” you continued, a self-deprecating laugh escaping your lips. “How can I expect someone to return my feelings if I don’t make them known? So silly of me, really.”

You squeezed his hands gently, and Azriel felt a tug at his heart as he listened to your words. “And I realised when I was away that it was okay if you didn’t feel the same. If you wanted someone else. Whether that be Elain…” You trailed off, acknowledging that perhaps that wasn't to be Azriel's fate anymore. “Or someone else entirely. As long as they made you happy.”

“Because truly, that’s all I want. And it’s genuinely what you deserve.”

Azriel was at a loss for words, his mind racing. This wasn’t how he had expected this conversation to go. No, he thought it would be a chance for him to be honest, but as he looked at you, so radiant and at peace he couldn’t bring himself to selfishly express his deepest desires.

Didn’t dare to disrupt the healing you had clearly worked so hard on.

“You’re so wonderful, Azriel,” you beamed, holding his hands tightly. “So wonderful that I’m just grateful for a part of you. This part of you—the part where we’re best friends.”

“So what do you say Az, best friends again?”

He saw it then, the slight fear in your eyes that he might reject this too. So he buried whatever feelings had creeped up these past months, assuring himself too that even just a small part of you was all he needed.

“Always.” A smile spread on his lips gently, and he watched as the shaky breath you’d been keeping in left your lips. You laughed softly before pouncing on the Shadowsinger, hugging him tightly.

This would be enough, he told himself.

This was all you needed, you told yourself.

Who would have guessed you'd both become a pair of liars.

Final Part >>

a/n: oh wait sorry, was this the second part you wanted...wait no, you wanted them to get together??....hmmm you might just have to wait and see ;) but I promise I'll try give you the resolution you want! - Lottie

Forever tags: @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass@alittlelostalittlefound-blog@milswrites@amberlynn98@marscardigan @illyrianbitch

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #acotar fanfiction #angst #acotar series #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #azriel angst #azriel x y/n #azriel #azriel series #acosf

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daycourtofficial · 10 months ago

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Come back, be here

Azriel x reader

Summary: It’s the anniversary of your mating bond ceremony and despite his reassurances, Azriel is nowhere to be seen.

Author’s note: this is the end of my 1k celebration and ironically the first fic I finished for this week. I hope you guys enjoyed reading these fics as much as I enjoyed writing them

Word count: 2k

(1k celebration masterlist 🍾)

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Every second you sat in your kitchen felt like an eternity, the fabric of the dress you’re wearing growing heavier with each tick of the clock.

You had bought the clock for your mate for your mating anniversary years ago. A rare antique that you knew he would love - thousands of years old, and you got it for an absurdly low price due to the condition it was in.

You spent months with a restoration expert, cleaning the clock, repairing pieces as you dismantled it. It was a labor of love, one you thought Azriel was deserving of.

The months spent restoring it were nothing compared to the time you’ve been sitting here.

Now you sit, practically taunted by its song. Tonight was supposed to be about the two of you. Objectively five years in a mateship isn’t a long time, a blip in the lives of fae, and yet the both of you were looking forward to the evening.

Despite his intimidating demeanor, Azriel was meticulous about celebrating your anniversaries, oftentimes mentioning an event you didn’t realize he knew the date of. You imagined he had an internal index of the days you two spent together.

“I waited five hundred years to meet you,” he had told you when he wanted to take you out to celebrate the anniversary of your first date, “I want to remember everything we do together. I want to celebrate us every day that I can.”

His words were incredibly sweet, but sitting in the cold kitchen, the tempting aromas of the meal you made long gone, you wonder just how much of it was words.

He waited 500 years for you, and you waited several hours before packing up the dinner you had made for him, tears running down your face as you packaged it all up.

Perhaps his overeager celebration of anniversaries led to the intensity of the sting you feel deep in your chest.

The clock chimes twelve times - he’s four hours late and your anniversary is officially over. You have no indication from the bond what he’s doing, it’s golden hum having gone silent hours ago.

You blow out the candles littering the house, taking off the ridiculous party hat you were wearing and throwing it on the ground.

It feels silly, the brightly colored hat with a pompon on top. It’s bright demeanor heavily contrasting the loneliness you feel inside. You sigh, looking around the downstairs of your home, deciding to leave the rose petals you had scattered so perhaps he’ll feel at least a little guilty when he came home.

Whenever that would be.

Trudging up the stairs, each step growing heavier, you wonder what could have kept him away. Rhys certainly wouldn’t have asked him to go away - Azriel had mentioned earlier in the week he’d be unavailable for a few days to celebrate.

Besides, Rhys knew how anal Azriel was about your anniversaries, and Feyre would chew him out if he forced Azriel to do anything on a day as important as your mating ceremony anniversary.

He had left this morning, promising you he’d be home at 8 because he had some tasks to do. You knew he was going to help one of your neighbors with a fallen tree, something that had to be done as soon as possible.

You move silently, going through your nightly ritual, an early end to the night you didn’t see coming. You pull back the covers on your bed, slipping into its cold grasp, ready to cry yourself to sleep, when you hear the door open downstairs.

You can hear Azriel moving through the house, a swiftness to his step as you hear him climbing the stairs quickly, taking them two at a time.

You make your way to your shared bedroom door, that you had locked upon entering, and lean against it, unsure if you’re ready for his excuses.

He tries the handle, then begins knocking.

“Baby, baby please be awake.” He pauses for a moment, listening. “I’m so sorry, baby please I know you’re awake I can hear you breathing.”

One of his shadows snakes underneath your door, checking you over to see how you are. It lingers on your cheeks, tear tracks still fresh. The shadow doesn’t return to it’s master, instead opting to stay with you, providing you company.

“Please, baby, I lost track of time. I was working on a surprise for you and I fell asleep. Baby I’m-“

You push off the door and turn to crack open the door, taking in the sight of your mate. Despite your annoyance, the bond made it practically impossible to want to avoid him. Every piece of you begged to be near him, to open the door further letting him in.

“You were working on a surprise?” Your voice cracks from all the crying, and he doesn’t mention how his heart cracks in response.

He nods gently, his hair sticking up everywhere from his hands having ran through it, and likely also from the flight home.

You’re still upset, but the frost you feel starts thawing. You can make him grovel a bit, and you’re about to open the door more, when the smell hits you.

Elain.

He showed up late to your date for your mating anniversary with some lame excuse about falling asleep because he had spent the day with Elain.

Elain, who was mated to Lucien, but made her affections for your mate abundantly clear before your mateship. As far as you had known, Azriel had shut down her affections when the bond snapped for you both, but now you’re reconsidering everything that you know.

Had they been sneaking around? Is this the first time? Does Lucien know?

The questions swirl in your mind, and Azriel puts his foot in the door begore you can slam it on him, your emotions swirling inside of his chest.

“Baby-“

“You spent the day with Elain?” You spat, “you were late because of Elain? You reek of her, Az!”

You push against the door, trying to shut him out, but he doesn’t budge, he won’t pull his foot out of the way, no matter how much it hurts.

“Baby, no let me explain-“

You laugh, “what’s there to explain? You are covered in her scent.”

The tears start pouring again, and the shadow starts wiping them up, more of them coming through the door to console you.

He starts panicking. Things with Elain have been great the past few years - her distance from Azriel allowing any lingering feelings of lust or awkwardness to dissipate, allowing the two of them to have a cordial friendship. Despite this, he was aware of how insecure you were around her.

You could never grasp why he’d want to be with you when he could have been with her.

Panic laces his tone as he tells you, “baby, no, I went to Elain’s to bake you a cake! We’ve been working all week on a recipe for you!”

You stop pushing so hard against the door, your movements stilling. An invitation for him to continue talking, but to stay where he was and not try to come in further.

“We spent the day baking you a cake. I laid down on her couch, and you know how damning that thing is. Lucien was there all day. I fell asleep waiting for the cake to cool so I could frost it. They must have left because-“

He pauses, his words rushing from his mouth, afraid you’d shut him out before they made their way to you. “I-they had me promise not to tell anyone, but Elain’s pregnant and they left for an appointment with Madja. They got back not too long ago, waking me up. I came straight here, forgetting the cake and your gifts.”

You lift your eyes to look at him for the first time and you know he’s telling you the truth.

“Gifts? Plural?”

A laugh breaks out from him, your obvious attempt to diffuse the situation. He pushes his hair back with a hand, and you finally take in how messy it was. He clearly had rushed over here, if it’s wind-blown look was anything to go off of. “I got you these incredible books that I spent ages tracking down. I was in Day earlier this week to pick them up.”

You perk up at that, “but you hate going to Day alone because Helion begs you to-“

“Then I had to stop by the jeweler’s.”

You perk up at that, your love of jewelry rivaling Amren’s.

“The jeweler’s?”

He smiles faintly, hoping he’s slowly convincing you to let him in.

“I had Winston take part of one of my siphons to make you a necklace.”

You still at that.

“Your- your siphon?”

He smiles softly, “yeah, I’ve been talking with him for years on how to best remove a piece to make you a matching necklace.”

You narrow your eyes, “years?”

“Yes, my love. We’ve gone through probably dozens of unused syphons to figure out the best method, he finally figured it out a few months ago.”

His hand taps his chest, where one of his siphons usually sits.

“I had a bit chiseled off of the one that stays on my chest.”

Your resolve crumbles, seinging open the door and launching yourself into his arms. He holds you tightly, and the two of you just stand there, enjoying the embrace.

The clock chines downstairs, but this time it’s tune is one of love, not dread.

You smelled him again, and as prominent as Elain’s scent was, you also picked up strong hints of Lucien and a soft, delicate scent.

“So nothing happened?”

“Nothing happened. And nothing ever will happen.”

Your eyes are lined with tears, pulling back from him, you place your hands on his face, bringing his face level with yours.

“If anything did happen, or ever happens, I’ll skin you alive.”

“My love, I think if I were to ever do anything to break your heart, Nesta would put my heart on a platter.”

You giggle, and he hums out, “actually I’m not sure who’d get to me first - Cassian or Nesta.”

Your soft giggles soothe the erratic beating of Azriel’s heart, “Gwyn and Emerie might take a chunk out too.”

He pushes the strands of hair away from your face, guiding the two of you further into the toom so he can shut the door.

“Let’s assume that if I did anything to hurt you, there would be a long line of fae coming to hunt me down.”

He kisses you, quickly pecking your lips several times as he guided you backwards until your knees hit your bed.

“However I did leave my mate all alone on our anniversary.”

He crawls on top of you, kissing your neck as you close your eyes at the contact, “and I am very good at groveling.”

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #acotar writing #azriel x y/n #azriel angst

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serpentandlily · 9 months ago

Note

congratulations on 3k followers!

would love to request Azriel x Reader (Fem!Reader if that’s okay with you), some good ole’ angst ending in fluff please!

Az knows reader is his soulmate and doesn’t say anything, reader either finds out because someone in the IC told her or the bond snaps for her, and she thinks Az didn’t tell her because he’s ashamed of her but really he’s ashamed of himself and thought reader wouldn’t want him.

I know this has been done before but I love seeing different versions of it and know yours would be amazing!!

The Shadowsinger’s Secret

Summary: After years spent trying to befriend the shadowsinger to no avail, you are finally ready to give up after accidentally overhearing him speak poorly of you. But when a gossip session exposes a life-changing secret, you realize you can’t let go of Azriel just yet.

Warnings: some miscommunication, fluff

A/n: Hope you enjoy this! Thanks for sending in a request and for your kind words!

────────────

Meeting Mor at Rita’s during the time Velaris was warded and locked down had completely changed your life.

A close friendship had bloomed between the two of you. She introduced you to her two other friends, Cassian and Azriel, when she invited you to a dinner at the townhouse they all shared. After getting over the shock of meeting the fae so close to the High Lord, you were quick to make friends with them—or well, with Cassian at least.

Although Azriel didn’t seem like much of a talker in the first place, you began to notice the extra ways he would go about avoiding you. Quickly leaving a room with lousy excuses when you entered, avoiding eye contact when he did address you—like when he’d ask you to pass the potatoes since that was really the only time he talked to you, or pretending not to notice you when you would see him out and about in the city.

At first, you chalked it up to him being severely introverted and shy. Not to mention, all three of them were struggling with the fact that their brother and friend was stuck under the rule of Amarantha. It hurt your feelings, but you brushed it off, figuring he would open up to you over time. But that time never seemed to come even after Rhysand returned.

The first few months after Rhysand finally came home, you were quick to form a friendship with him despite him being your High Lord. You two shared similar traumas. You both had terrible fathers growing up. He had lost his sister, you had lost your brother—the reason you’d moved away from home to live here. But perhaps the best and most silly reason you got along so well was the fact that the two of you loved to gossip.

Even after making friends with both his brothers and Mor, Azriel did not warm up to you. He still avoided you. Still made sure to always sit at the other end of the table from you. Made sure to never be left in a room alone with you. And he would never be the one to offer to fly you up to the House of Wind, even when it would’ve been more convenient.

You were beginning to think maybe he just didn’t like you. And then those feelings were confirmed with the appearance of the Archeron sisters.

You had seen the way Azriel treated Elain, always offering to keep her company or escort her to places. He sat with her at dinners, listened to her talk about her hobbies, and even defended her when a bad word was said about her. Elain was easy to get along with, sure, but so were you. At least, you had thought you were. But Azriel was making you question everything you had ever thought of yourself.

He even became friends with Nesta, who had been nothing short of a viper when she first arrived in Velaris. That was when you finally let go of the notion of ever being his friend, ever getting him to even so much as look your way. He didn’t like you. For whatever reason, a reason you were too scared to ask the others about, he didn’t like you.

You had gone to such great lengths to be his friend. Gave him presents on Winter Solstice, brought his favorite treats from the bakery to leave in the kitchen for him every sunday, tried to converse with him during dinners, included him whenever you invited the group out for drinks. You had tried your hardest and it had been met with pure apathy. You eventually found out that he wouldn’t even eat any of the treats you brought, leaving them all for Cassian.

That really drove the nail into the coffin. He didn’t even want to touch something because it had been from you. It hurt more than you’d like to admit.

You were currently making your way to Rhys’s office for a meeting about how your mentorship with Madja was going but more importantly, to share the hot gossip you’d heard when two voices caught your attention.

You paused in your tracks when you heard your name mentioned, glancing at the closed door to Rhys’s personal library.

“You should at least try and talk to her, Azriel.”

“You don’t understand, Elain.” You heard Azriel respond. “I can’t.”

“It’s not fair that you're making judgements without even knowing her. She’s pretty, she’s kind—Y/n is a great girl!”

Your heart was wildly beating in your chest, both panic and nausea turning over your stomach.

“I do know her and she’s not. She's not pretty or kind. She’s not a great girl, she’s—”

You fled before you could hear the rest of Azriel’s response, tears burning in your eyes, chest tight.

So none of it had been in your head. Azriel truly disliked you. You didn’t know what you did to offend him or make him hate you.

You swallowed, thickly, wiping away the tears that had slid down your cheeks, trying to compose yourself before you entered Rhys’s office. The last thing you wanted was for him to ask you why you were upset.

But you could do nothing about the nausea in your stomach, or the hoarse feeling in your throat that made it hard to swallow. Maybe you’d just drop off the report and scurry home before anyone noticed something was wrong.

You pushed open the door to his office, keeping your eyes on the floor as you entered and shut it behind you.

“Ah, Y/n, just the person I was waiting for! You will not believe what I heard Nesta telling—” You looked up when Rhys paused to see him staring at you with concern. “Y/n, what’s the matter? Why do you look so upset?”

“N-nothing,” you choked out, striding forward and setting your report on his desk. “I’m just a bit tired today. Think I’m going to head home and take a nap.”

Rhysand stared down at the folder on his desk with a frown before leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “Bullshit.”

“Excuse me?!”

“I’m calling bullshit, Y/n,” Rhys said, looking at you with a stern expression that was normally reserved for when Nyx acted up. “You stay out all night long with Mor all the time and you’ve never skipped out on our talks! What happened? Did someone hurt you? Who do we have to beat up?”

You shook your head with a small laugh that sounded as hollow as you felt. “Seriously, Rhys, I’m fine. Nothing happened. I really am just tired.”

He studied you before nodding at the chair in front of his desk with his chin. “Sit.”

You bristled at him using his High Lord’s voice to get you to obey, reluctantly taking a seat in the armchair. He didn’t seem bothered by the glare you were sending his way.

“This is hardly necessary,” you argued.

“You’re not leaving this room until you tell me why you walked into my office looking like a little, downtrodden puppy.”

“Gee, thanks,” you scoffed at his comparison. “Like I said, nothing is wrong!”

Rhys only quirked an eyebrow at you and you let out a noise of frustration. “Fine! Look, I just overheard some people talking about me and not all of it was…

pleasant, okay? That’s all.”

“Who?” Rhys barked out. “What were they even saying? You’re the most harmless person I know.”

You rolled your eyes at his remark.

“No one important and besides, people are allowed to have negative feelings about me,” you sniffed. “Even if it hurts to hear.”

“If it was no one important then you wouldn’t be upset. And no one is allowed to have negative opinions about any of my friends except for me,” Rhys leaned back in his chair and kicked up his feet on his desk before giving you a very feline smile.

You snorted. “Yeah, well, what if it was one of your friends I overheard?”

You regretted those words as soon as they came out of your mouth.

Rhys perked up. “If it was Cassian, don’t pay him any mind. He’s just mad you beat him at poker last week.”

“It wasn’t Cassian. It was Azriel,” you sighed.

Rhys was silent for a moment before he burst into laughter. Your mouth dropped open at his audacity.

“It’s not funny! I’ve spent years trying to be his friend! I don’t know why he hates me so much.”

“It’s funny because I know Azriel would never talk shit about you. He doesn’t even talk shit about the people he does hate and he most certainly does not hate you,” he chuckled. “I don’t know what you overheard but it must be a misunderstanding.”

“It wasn’t!”

“Alright, show me.”

You felt dark claws tap on your mental shield and you let him in after some slight hesitation, letting him view your most recent memory.

“Hm,” Rhys mused when he was done. “I’m not convinced. You should’ve stuck around to hear what he said.”

Hearing Azriel’s words in your head again caused a new round of tears. You tried to hold them back, sniffling but it was no use. Rhys sat up straight when he realized just how upset you were.

“Y/n, please don’t cry. I promise you Azriel does not hate you. I know how awful that sounded but I really think—”

“He does! He’s never liked me! I’ve tried so hard to be his friend, Rhys, and he always ignores me or pretends I’m not there. Every time I try to talk to him he gives me one word answers and runs away with any excuse like he can’t even stand to be around me! I don’t know what I did to make him hate me so much or think I’m an awful person.”

You wiped away the tears on your cheeks, bitterly.

“Azriel’s just…shy,” Rhys said, weakly. “Give him some time to warm up to you.”

“I’ve known him for over fifty years now, Rhys! Hell, he’s already friends with Elain and Nesta and they’ve barely been living here for two years. I think if he wanted to be my friend, it would’ve happened already. He just doesn’t like me!”

The door to Rhys’s office opened right after you finished talking and you stiffened as Cassian strode in.

“Oh, hey, Y/n, I didn’t know you were in here,” Cassian greeted as he shut the door behind him. He stopped in his tracks once he noticed your tears and Rhys’s grimace. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

You groaned, dropping your face into your hands with embarrassment.

“Y/n is under the impression that Azriel hates her.”

“No, I know he hates me,” you said, voice muffled.

Cassian’s booming laughter filled the office, making you sink further down in the chair. What the hell was so funny about this?

“You think Azriel hates you?” Cassian asked in between his laugh. “Y/n, that is ridiculous! He could never hate you. You’re his mate—”

“Cassian!” Rhys rose, slamming his hands down on his desk.

Your head sprung up.

“What…what did you just say?”

Rhys let out a sigh, pinging the bridge of his nose. “Gods damn it, Cassian. Y/n…you weren’t supposed to find out this way. I’m so sorry—”

“Azriel is my mate and he knows? He told you guys but not me? Why…”

Why? Of course you knew why! He never told you because he didn’t want you as his mate. All the air in the room was sucked out, your face turned hot, your ears started ringing. Your mate didn’t want you. Your Mother-blessed mate didn’t want you. You shot up out of your seat, rushing to the door.

“Y/n, wait!”

But you didn’t stop.

────────────

“It’s better this way,” Azriel sighed. “She deserves better than me. She deserves someone as good as her as a mate. She could never want someone like me—I’m not good enough for her.”

“You should at least try and talk to her, Azriel,” Elain replied.

“You don’t understand, Elain. I can’t.”

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair. He couldn’t talk to you because the mating bond might snap in place and then you’d be chained to him forever and that was just not fair to you. You deserved so much more.

“It’s not fair that you're making judgements without even knowing her. She’s pretty, she’s kind—Y/n is a great girl!”

“I do know her and she’s not. She's not pretty or kind. She’s not a great girl, she’s a saint. She’s not just pretty, she is the most beautiful girl in the world and she’s so much more than just kind. She’s good unlike me. I’ve…I’ve done so many bad things. I’m tainted and if I allow myself to be with her, I’ll ruin her.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself, Azriel,” Elain sighed. “Besides, shouldn’t Y/n be the one to decide for herself if you’re good enough for her? Me and Lucien didn’t get off to a great start but at least he was honest with me.”

Azriel’s wings drooped to the floor. “You’re…right. It’s not fair to her that I’ve been keeping this a secret all these years. But I don’t want her to feel forced to be with me.”

“She is smart, Azriel, and can handle herself. If she doesn’t want you, I’m sure she’ll be honest about that. But you won’t know until you try. And as much as I love listening to you talk about her—I think I can speak for all of us when I say that you should stop saying this stuff to us and start saying it to her! She probably thinks you hate her with how much you avoid her!”

Azriel’s chest ached at that thought. The last thing he wanted to do was upset you which is why he stayed away.

“But—”

“No more buts, Azriel,” Elain said, sternly. “Tell her before she finds out some other way like Feyre did. You know how much that upset her. Rhys is lucky my sister is so forgiving.”

Azriel swallowed thickly, but rose to his feet. It was about time he faced this, about time he stopped trying to hold his mate at arms length. Even if he felt like he didn’t deserve you, you deserved to know the truth.

“Okay. You’re right. You’ve all been right and I’ve been a coward. She deserves the truth.”

Elain smiled, nodding her head. “Good luck, Azriel. Just remember if she seems reluctant at first, don’t take it to heart. It took all of us some time before we warmed up to our mates.”

He gave her a dip of his head before leaving the library to start his search for his mate. What he didn’t expect was you to come barreling down the hallway with tears pouring from your eyes. His stomach turned over at the sight and he quickly stopped you in her path, grabbing you by the shoulders.

“Y/n, what’s wrong—”

Your eyes widened as you stared up at him.

“D-don’t,” you cried out, shrugging out of his grip. “Please, don’t touch me.”

And then you were off again, disappearing around the corner. He stood frozen in place, debating if he should run after you. But you clearly didn’t want to talk to him. And it was all his fault—the distance he had put between the two of you.

He made his way to Rhys’s office, pushing aside the urge to run after his mate and find out why you were so upset and who he needed to hurt for causing your tears.

When he entered, he immediately knew something was wrong. Cassian was staring at him with pure guilt in his eyes while Rhys stood behind his desk, frowning.

“Azriel, I’m so sorry,” Cassian choked out.

“Sorry about what?”

Cassian rubbed the back of his neck, looking like he wanted to ground to swallow him whole. “I might’ve told Y/n that you're her mate.”

“You what,” Azriel growled.

Cassian glanced at Rhys who decided to jump in before a war broke out in his office. “Honestly, Azriel, it’s your fault for keeping it from her. She was in here crying because she thinks you hate her. I was trying to convince her you don’t when Cassian walked in and let it slip.”

“You’re one to talk,” Azriel spat out. “You hid your mating bond from Feyre too.”

“Not for over fifty years! I would’ve told her if she hadn’t found out. I withheld that information for a few months and look how that turned out. How do you think Y/n will feel knowing you hid it from her for over fifty years!”

Azriel’s wings slumped, his shadows whirling around him in distress. Just the idea of you being hurt by him was enough to make him want to bash his head into the wall. “She deserves better.”

“You’re right. She deserves you,” Cassian said, gently, nudging him with his shoulder. “Maybe this was the push you needed, Az, to finally talk to her.”

Azriel sighed, bowing his head in shame. “I know, I know. And I will—I will go talk to her.”

“I recommend starting with an apology,” Rhys joked but Azriel was hardly paying attention, already sending out his shadows to find his upset mate.

────────────

You were sitting on a hill that overlooked Velaris, running your fingers through the grass. This day had gone from bad to absolutely dreadful in the matter of a few minutes and now you were left reeling with the information that Azriel was your mate. A mate that had kept the bond secret from you. A mate that obviously didn’t want you.

He had said so to Elain. He didn’t think you were pretty or kind or great. It all made sense now, how much he had avoided you in the past. He didn’t want you to figure it out, didn’t want the bond to snap for you. You let out a sigh, drawing your knees up to your chest and resting your chin on them.

A light breeze of wind ruffled your hair forward as someone appeared behind you. You didn’t bother turning around, already recognizing that familiar smell of cedar and night-chilled mist. Cassian must’ve let him know that the cat was out of the bag and now Azriel was likely here to beg you to reject him.

“You know, I’ve lived in Velaris nearly my whole life but I’ve never been up here before today.” Azriel’s deep voice broke the silence. “That’s a beautiful view of the city.”

“I know,” you answered, quietly, your voice hoarse from crying. “It’s why I come up here.”

“Do you come here often?” His voice was closer this time and his shadows began to whisk through your hair and under your arms, much like they always did when in your presence.

“Only when I’m upset,” you sighed, blinking away more tears.

There was a moment of silence before Azriel spoke again. “I’m really sorry, Y/n. I did not intend for you to find out about the bond that way.”

“It’s alright,” you said, weakly. “It must’ve been hard finding out your mate is someone you don’t want. I know you’re here to ask me to reject it. I will do as you ask so you can continue on with your life.”

“No,” Azriel spit out quickly, stumbling closer to you. “No, I’m not here to ask you to reject it. I’m here to explain myself…I hate that this has made you so upset.”

He sat down next to you, mimicking your position. You kept your gaze forward, scared to see what you might find if you looked at him. “You don’t have to explain yourself, Azriel. I get it. I, um, I overheard you talking about me to Elain.”

“Rhys showed me what you overheard,” Azriel said, his wings flexing before the one closest to you curled around your form to block the wind. “I wish you had stayed just a second longer, Y/n, because I truly was not saying anything bad about you. I would never—”

“If that’s true then what were you doing? What did you mean when you said I wasn’t pretty or kind or great? What could that possibly mean other than what it seems to?”

“I said that because it’s true. You’re not pretty or kind or great, Y/n. You are beautiful, the most beautiful girl to ever step foot in this world. And you’re not just kind, you’re so much more than that. You are good. You have the heart of a true angel. You are so much more than those three words can describe. I never kept the bond from you because I didn’t want you. I kept it a secret because you deserve someone better,” Azriel confessed.

“And you don’t think you can be that someone for me, Azriel? You’re my Mother-given mate! You want to know something? I’ve always dreamt about finding my mate one day. Hoped that I would get to experience a love like that in my lifetime. And to find out—”

Your voice cracked, tears sliding down your cheeks.

“Please, don’t cry,” Azriel pleaded, taking your chin in his grasp, and turning your head to face him. He cupped your cheeks, his thumbs brushing away the tears. “I longed for the day I would find my mate. But when I finally found you after all these years, I…I didn’t know how to wrap my head around the fact that the Mother blessed me with you. You are so much more than I ever dreamed of. You are all that is good in this world. You bring happiness to every room you walk in. You’re smart. You’re beautiful. The last thing I wanted was to drag you down by shackling you to me.”

“What if it is you that I want? What if I want you to be that person? Did you ever consider that might be a possibility? Because let me tell you something, Azriel. You say I’m more than you ever dreamed of, but you are exactly who I’ve been dreaming of all these years. Someone calm, someone patient, someone good of heart. Someone I can feel safe around. Someone I can call home. What would you say to that?”

“Then I might say you’re an idiot for wanting me,” Azriel chuckled, still stroking your cheeks with his thumbs, staring down at you with those beautiful hazel eyes. “But then I’d probably get down on my knees and beg you for a second chance. To let me prove to you that you have my heart and soul. You have since the day I laid eyes on you.”

You stared up at him, eyes wide with your vulnerability. “And if I agreed to give you a second chance, what would you say?”

“I would say be ready by seven tonight so I can take you out and show you what a girl like you deserves,” Azriel breathed out. “What would you say to that?”

You laughed, the ache in your chest finally soothed. “I would say yes.”

Azriel smiled, a rare and breathtaking sight, before he stood and reached out a hand to help you off the ground. “Good. I was hoping you’d say that.”

You smiled back at him before finally taking his hand.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #azriel angst #azriel fluff #reader requests

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azen13 · 4 months ago

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CW: Yandere Themes

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Yandere!Alhaitham x Endangered Animal Hybrid!Reader...

It starts off innocently enough. After escaping a group of Treasure Hoarders looking to sell you off to whoever would pay the most, you find yourself lost in Gandharva Ville for several days until Tighnari finds you. Knowing that you're at risk of being poached due to your rarity, but also knowing that keeping you—a feral, dangerous, and intelligent being—in close proximity to Collei is a bad idea, the Forest Ranger writes to Alhaitham asking him to house you and keep an eye on you.

After several letters sent back and forth over the course of days, it only takes a little bit of begging on Tighnari's part to convince Alhaitham to look after you for a month. Soon enough, you're moving in and sulking around the confines of your new "home", a pout on your face at the fact that you can't escape. After all, for all your strength and agility, Alhaitham possesses a vision and a powerful intellect. You're outmatched.

Despite your attitude, Alhaitham pays you little mind. He makes sure you're fed, hydrated, and healthy, but rarely speaks more than one or two sentences at a time when talking to you. Over the days, the two of you warm up to one another a little, but nothing noticeable changes in the Scribe's demeanor.

Until he comes home one day to you sitting on a sofa, a book plucked from his personal collection spread on your lap. An Introductory Guide to Zoology, the title reads. After a moment, your ears perk up, registering the door creaking. In a flash, you turn to face him, shock painted bright red across your face.

For a few seconds, all you can hear is the battering ram that is your heartbeat smashing against your mind, chastising you for being so stupid. Now you'd be thrown out and defenseless, with plenty of dangerous people who'd jump at the chance to earn a pretty penny by pawning off a rare hybrid such as yourself.

"S-sorry," you say, shaky hands shutting the cover. But before you can, Alhaitham is quick to grab hold of the book, keeping it open.

He's so close to you, to the point where you can see the rise and fall of his chest, the sheen of sweat on his forehead from walking home in the warm weather, the pure intrigue in his eyes at this new discovery.

You intrigue him.

His eyes narrow slightly. "I didn't know you could read?" He glances at the text, discerning what exactly you're studying—if you are studying at all, that is.

You nod. "I learned when I was very young," you say, your own eyes slowly falling to the floor, willing this conversation to be over. Luckily, the divine seem to answer your prayer and Alhaitham simply shrugs and walks away.

Little do you know, the spark of curiosity he allowed you to see had already grown into a roaring fire, burning with the desire to know you. He could hardly call his interest rational, though he does his best to find justifications and act like he believes them.

The month flies by, and you continue to believe that all is well in the world. You've just begun looking through your few belongings, trying to decide what to keep and what to get rid of before you move out, when Alhaitham enters the doorway. "Tighnari told me that you plan to leave in less than a week."

Looking up from the knick-knacks you own, you turn to Alhaitham. "Yeah. I was planning to go back to Gandharva Ville and live there for a few months," you say, your attention beginning to shift back to your possessions. Conversations with Alhaitham mostly ended after one or two sentences, and you had no reason to believe that this conversation would be any different.

"About that." Alhaitham's voice breaks through your focus like glass. "There have been reports from the Matra of increased poaching in the areas around Gandharva Ville. I'm not forcing you to stay, and neither is Tighnari, but we won't be able to protect you there as well as we can here," he says.

You frown. You had been looking forward to leaving for so long now, tired of being cooped up inside Alhaitham's home with only brief walks outside—under the Acting Grand Sage's supervision, of course—to break up the boredom, only to learn that it would be dangerous to leave the city.

"I...I suppose if it's okay, I'd like to stay," you say after a moment of mental debate.

For a moment, you swear you can see the corners of Alhaitham's lips quirk upwards.

"I'll inform Tighnari of your decision as soon as possible." As per usual, after a moment of silence, Alhaitham walks away.

Time seems to fly by in increasingly rapid intervals. One week becomes two. Two weeks becomes four. Four weeks becomes eight, and so on and so forth. You slowly find yourself ensnared by Alhaitham's careful, subtle manipulation. Gandharva Ville really isn't overrun with poachers, but with how sheltered you are, you don't know that.

And week by week, day by day, you don't realize it but Alhaitham is slowly working to decode you. What about you fascinates him so deeply? As he studies you like he would one of his projects, he only finds himself falling deeper and deeper into obsession, an inescapable loop of positive feedback.

The realization comes to him one night, as dreams of you dance in his head as he sleeps. Your hand brushing against his for only a moment. The empty space on the other side of his bed filled by you, his arms holding you close every night. The tender press of your lips against his. The kind of love that transcends human nature. The kind of love that is divine.

Alhaitham is in love.

And now that he knows it, he can't let you go. Luckily for him though, you'll never escape. After all, he's already domesticated you. It's only a matter of time before you learn to love him, too.

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55sturn · 1 month ago

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✮ RUNNING INTO EX!CHRIS STURNIOLO AT A PARTY

inspired by + creds to: everyone that has written the ex!triplet au!

disclaimers: swearing, angst, mentions of drugs + alcohol, allusions of cheating [ no cheating ever happened ], chris is so in love with reader

you didn’t wanna be here in some dingy kitchen, complete with a slightly (severely) outdated interior, mismatched furniture in heinous colours that didn’t pair well, tacky printed wallpaper that mirrored the weird carpeting from the hotel in the shining, every surface in the house sticky with various spilt liquids, crushed cans and solo cups crunching beneath the platform of your doc martens with every step you took, and drug paraphernalia laying around everywhere you looked. you could even spot the cocaine straws and leftover residue of the white powder on the brown countertops. truthfully, in hindsight, it was not the best setting for two kids that just got scouted and eventually contracted for some of the best college hockey teams in the state.

but still, you plastered a smile on your face and showed up, for matt and chris, despite that you and chris had broken up a couple months ago. you know and witnessed firsthand how hard they worked to get this far in their hockey careers. and this party was being thrown to celebrate and commemorate their shared dreams coming to fruition.

the air was thick with weed and cigarette smoke as you made your way through the house, your eyes and throat burning with each blink and breath. the smell of skunky ass weed alone could give anyone in attendance the worst case of cotton mouth. you fought the urge to gag at the sight of couples and people who were obviously seeing one another shotgunning smoke into each other’s mouths or even just straight up swapping spit and dry humping one another.

you knew you were being a hypocrite and a bit condescending, considering that you were in those girls’ places less than six months ago. you and chris constantly put on a heavy show of pda, not caring who was around. but as you kept pushing through the crowd of people, your best friend stopped in her tracks, turning to face you so fast you’re shocked she doesn’t get whiplash.

“chris is head of the drink table tonight.” she hums right against the shell of your ear, and you’re quick to stiffen. this is the first time you’re going to see him since the breakup, and it’s not going to be easy considering how harsh the breakup was.

“fuck, i need a drink.” you groan, trying to come up with some way to get a drink without your ex seeing you.

“i’ll get a drink for you, wait here.” she smiles, turning and walking away just as fast as before, and you didn’t even have a chance to tell her that when chris is head of the drink table, he’s quick to limit a person.

you wandered aimlessly around the equally dingy living room, the soft LED lights making your head throb slightly, and you swore could feel the thump of the bass bumping in your blood stream. you knew you needed a drink if you were going to tolerate this any longer, so you took a deep breath before turning around and pushing toward the drink table. you felt your hands begin to tremble as you got closer to seeing chris with each step. you weren’t ready, and you didn’t think you were ever going to be. the fight had been a clash of angry words and deep cutting insults thrown at one another, most of them directed at you.

you stand on the side of the drink table, opposite of chris as he talked to one his buddies, contemplating turning around and pretending you were never there, but his friend taps him on the shoulder and nods toward you, and before you could leave, chris turns around, his eyes meeting yours for a brief second before looking away, only for him to look at you again.

“yo jason grab me a fruit punch truly.” chris calls over his shoulder, and the fact that he stills know what your go to drink has your stomach churning with nostalgia and something a bit more heartbreaking.

you’re quick to take the drink from him and walk away, but he’s quicker, much quicker to tap his friend into their shift and tag along after you, he’s one step ahead of you figuratively, always has been, it’s almost as if he could tell what you were thinking before the thought fully formed in your mind. and he’s quick to catch up to you, to gently grab your arm, pulling you back to face him.

“can we talk?” the words slip out of his mouth before he can even really think about them, and your body goes rigid as you look at him, the question you wanted to avoid had finally settled into the air, thick as the smoke that hung amidst the crowd of partygoers. and you go against your internal wishes as you nod, walking behind him as he pulls you to one of the bathrooms on the top floor, and you don’t question him as he sits on the counter across from the wall you’re leaning against partially to respect his space, mostly because his cologne is intoxicating and you fear that if you sit next to him, you’ll make rash decisions that wouldn’t be fair to either if you.

after a pregnant pause coupled with him watching your face intently, he hums a simple question that hurts more than it should.

“how ya been kid?”

“i’ve been okay, just trying to push through the rest of the semester, you?” you whisper, scared to break the rather agonizing and bittersweet tenderness that clings to the atmosphere.

“i’ve been, well, if i’m being honest, i’ve been a wreck. i miss you, y/n. more than i know i should given what led to us fighting and breaking up, but i don’t want to lie to you. but it’s fuckin’ with my head, you fuck with my head.” he sighs, fiddling with the silver bracelet dangling off his wrist.

“what do you mean?”

“i’ve been benched more these last few weeks than i have in my entire life playing sports, i’ve gotten enough penalties to be threatened with suspension because i’m angry and i hurt every day and i just want to believe that this is just some fucked up dream and that it’ll finally end and i’ll wake up next to you, but it’s like i’m stuck in a loop that started the day you walked out.”

“you mean the day you told me that i’m too much for you? the day you said that you could get with any girl you want, that you almost cheated on me?” you spit, not meaning to sound so angry, but the fact of the matter is, his words killed you. they hung over you like a dark grey cloud, repeating on an infinite loop in the depths of your mind every time you doubted yourself.

“yes. and i regret those words every single second. i’m not trying to justify it, but i could feel myself cracking under the pressure from my coach, under the self inflicted pressure of wanting to prove myself to you, to prove i was still worthy of your love. i wish i had asked for space that night, it would’ve given me a chance to take a deep breath and collect my thoughts instead of spewing hateful lies your way.” he murmurs, his eyes glossing over with tears as you watch him, your own eyes stinging ever so slightly.

“chris-“

“i don’t want to be one of those pathetic guys that begs a girl for another chance after doggin’ on them but god kid, i am so in love with you, you’re the girl i wanna marry, and if i don’t sit here and beg for one more chance, i’ll hate myself until the end of time. i don’t want us to end because i fucked up when i should’ve just taken a step back, i want us to end together, in rocking chairs on our deck when we’re eighty, with grey hair and wrinkly skin.” he pleads, climbing off the counter and dropping to his knees in front of you, his arms wrapping around your hips as he presses his forehead to your stomach, and as mad as you were and as much as his words hurt, the idea of not being able to love chris or feel his love again hurt just that tiny bit more.

the idea hurt enough to make you drop down to his level, your hands cradling his face as you promise him one more chance, but on the condition that he starts communicating with you, because you don’t want to lose him permanently to something that could’ve been so easily resolved, but you also don’t want to go through another night of hearing such painful insults thrown at you by the person that’s meant to love and cherish you. so you let him in again, because you love him, and you know him, you know his heart. because sometimes loving someone, means giving them another chance to prove themselves, it means forgiving their mistakes but not excusing them, and giving them an opportunity to heal and grow from them.

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scarletssienna · 10 months ago

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Beggin' for Footnotes

Summary - Some things aren’t meant to last forever. And despite you and Wanda loving each other you’re not sure if it’s going to work out anymore. 4.0k word count

Warnings - Hurt (not much comfort), heavy angst, swearing, mommy Wanda, oral, fingering, face slapping, sub!reader, degradation, praise, begging, dom/sub dynamics, aftercare, hair pulling, mean Wanda, edging, face-sitting, thigh riding

AN - This is my first post on here! I’ve done writings in the past but I thought I’d try a new format and space to post it! :)) I plan on continuing this if I can find the energy lol!

Part 2

18+, minors + men dni

Not every love was supposed to last. No matter how great, how wonderful, sometimes things still end. You knew Wanda like the back of your hand. And she knows you all the same. So when one of her vices came up after one of your worst fights, you could only watch. Wanda stood out on the back porch. Cigarette between her two fingers as she stared off into the darkness. There was this empty sickening in both of your stomachs that this may be the end. At this point, all options and solutions had been exhausted. You knew it was time. You watched out the kitchen window, unable to tear your eyes away as she slowly inhaled before a large cloud of smoke dissipated into the air, the cold temperatures enhancing it. Your fingers squeezed the sponge from the sink as soapy water flooded between your fingers. The dishes had been long forgotten lately as neither of you had had the energy to wash them. This was unusual for Wanda as she liked to keep the house showroom ready at all times. You forcefully ripped your eyes away from her as you began to wash the dishes, trying to make up for anything you could. To fix what you could in this messy situation.

The house that had once been so loud with laughter and joy now lingered in empty silence. Your playlist of every song you two had loved played softly over the speakers around the house. If it had been several months ago you would have pulled her closely in your arms, dancing around the kitchen despite her laughs and teases about how cheesy it was. Her nose would crinkle as you sang along in Sokovian to one of her favorite songs. You butchered the pronunciation, but you would try, she could tell. She would have given in eventually and threaded her hands in your hair as she rested her forehead against yours. You would have kissed her, kissed her as if she was going to leave the second you let go. In this reality, she very well might.

You watched out the window again for a moment before getting distracted by the dish you were washing. The knife in your hands harshly tore against your flesh and you quickly dropped the knife into the sink, a soft yelp leaving your lips. You backed away quickly as blood began to drip down your hand. It was a quick scramble for the kitchen towel as you tried to stop the bleeding. Wanda had always been there to comfort you when you were injured in the past. You bit the inside of your cheek trying to stop it as tears quickly began to fall on your face. You let off a soft sob as you abandoned the dishes, heading upstairs to your shared bedroom. Hurrying into the bathroom you discarded the bloodied towel onto the sink countertops and washed the wound before messily bandaging it up. You had never been very good at doing it yourself so Wanda had always insisted on caring for you but you didn't think that was very well an option at this point.

Tears flooded down your face as the events from the night tore your heart into shreds. You were no longer crying due to the injury. It was a different kind of pain. You stumbled over to the bed and threw your pants onto the floor before climbing into your side of the bed. The sheets were quickly pulled up to your chin as your hand covered your mouth in an attempt to muffle the sobs. Quickly, you drifted off into a tired and pained sleep.

When Wanda returned inside she hadn't expected to see dishes washed especially as she investigated further and saw the drops of blood on the floor and a bloody knife in the sink. Despite the fight, she still cared and loved you. She quickly rushed upstairs in an attempt to find you. When she noticed the door slightly ajar and silence in the room she quietly peaked her head in. She sighed relieved when she saw you asleep in bed, seemingly uninjured from her view. The smell of cigarettes covered her and she wandered quietly off to the bathroom to take a shower, shutting the bathroom door behind her. For everyone but you her walls were high. She hardly let anyone in. and when she did, it felt as if it always ended this way. The feeling of being cursed towards relationships had set in. She washed her hair, going over the fight in her head as she wondered what could have gone differently, how she could save it. If it was even worth it at this point.

Tensions had been rising over the past couple of weeks. You both had been working too much recently and had hardly had time for one another. It seemed as if every day was the same. Wake up, go to work, sleep, repeat. It had been killing you both. The littlest things set you both off. It would end up in screaming matches and sleeping alone every time. What set you both over the edge this time was not so little. Natasha, your mutual friend, had begun flirting with you. While she respected your relationship, she had always believed you two were not good for each other. So when you fought last week and you ended up at her house she had done nothing but comfort you. You thought nothing of Natashas' intentions but Wanda knew otherwise. This had sent her into a fit of rage when Natasha dropped you off this morning and kissed your cheek goodbye.

You both fought for hours, arguing about anything that came to mind, but mainly Natasha. Had you understood and been able to read her mind as well, you would have understood her intentions and sided with Wanda, not seeing Natasha anymore. But you couldn't and this frustrated Wanda. When she attempted to control your mind you quickly noticed and this sent you two further down the line of fighting. You hated it when she used her powers on you. When you thought to yourself that you wished you could just forget everything that had happened Wanda broke. She had misunderstood. Thinking you had meant forgetting her. Silence fell over the fight and she went outside to have a cigarette. Her thoughts consumed her as her heart hurt.

With how often the fights had been recently as well as how busy you've been, you'd not been intimate in weeks. The tension begins to tear you both apart. When she finished her shower she pulled on an old t-shirt and shorts before popping her head out the bathroom door to check if you were still sleeping. When she saw you, she had to determine what to do. Did she sleep with you? Or did she go to the guest room? She decided that you wouldn't want her in bed and quietly tip-toed to the guest room based on what she had misunderstood. That night she cried herself to sleep as well.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

When you woke up the next morning you sat up groggily and sighed to yourself as you didn't see Wanda in bed, the memories of the night prior sinking in. Despite your anger you went to see where she had slept for the night, mostly just wanting to make sure she hadn't ended up locked out on the porch freezing to death. You saw her asleep in the guest room, her makeup smudged and muddled from tears, and her shower. You sighed and went back to your room to get ready for the day. It was unusual for you to be up first and you made use of it, quietly leaving for work before she awoke.

You returned home late that night, having gone to the bar after work with a few co-workers to unwind and relax. All you could think about was Wanda and the ache between your legs grew. You were mad, but maybe you needed that. You quietly entered the house, making a note to lock the door behind you before heading to find Wanda. You weren't extremely intoxicated, but the anger, lack of quality sleep, stress, and tequila were having a bit of an impact. You could tell she had been home for a couple of hours, the discarded takeout garbage by the trash. Suddenly she caught your eye outside on the back porch. Of course, she was smoking again. You thought to yourself before acting on impulse. You went to the door and harshly pulled the sliding door open. She let out a startled gasp that didn't happen often as she always seemed aware of your presence.

“Get inside.” You said firmly in a tone that had been unusual for you to take on with her. You had always been the more submissive in the relationship. The words shocked you both a little. She obliged anyway, out of more surprise than anything. She put the cigarette out before coming inside. You shut the door behind her, looking into her eyes before quickly pressing her against the door in a bruising kiss. She yelped out of surprise before kissing back, her hands tangling into your hair. She ignored the taste of tequila on your lips as she knew she tasted like cigarettes and couldn't defend herself for that.

You made quick work of snaking your hand underneath her shirt, groping her chest as your tongues began to fight. She had never seen this level of dominance out of you. While it surprised and intrigued her, she couldn't have it. You both knew you were just trying to get a reaction out of her as it had been entirely too long since you two had done anything together. Her hand tightened with a grip of your hair as she roughly pulled your head back, quickly beginning to kiss and nip at your neck. You let out a moan as she tugged at your hair, stumbling backward slightly as she pushed you off of her.

“Upstairs. “ She muttered firmly. You could see the darkness in her eyes and did not question it, quickly moving upstairs to your room. The past few weeks your dynamic had been shallow and lacking. You both needed rules in life. You need a guideline to follow, and she needs an outlet of control. When you got upstairs you looked around the room, taking several deep breaths before going to crack a window to get some airflow. Your jaw clenched as you took a few deep breaths trying to focus on relaxing. You closed the curtains forcefully, a little too forcefully perhaps as they, along with the curtain rod came tumbling down. Your heart sank as tears filled your eyes, threatening to fall as you knew Wanda would be mad. As you heard her footsteps approach you quickly tugged off your shirt, tossing it in a pile alongside your discarded pants. You had already dug your grave and it was getting deeper. Thoughts raced through your head about what punishment would come. The more you thought the more your legs pressed together for any kind of release you could gain. Just as you sat down on the bed the door swung open. “What the hell was that?” She asked. Her voice was angry and her accent began to peak through her words as she spoke. Her head quickly turned and noticed the window. “Did you do this?” she asked in almost a patronizing tone. She knew you did it, the guilt on your face was obvious.

You pulled your bottom lip into your mouth as she spoke, gnawing on it nervously as you considered your options. Slowly, you shook your head, the hesitation clear as tears brimmed your eyes. She walked over to you, one eyebrow raised in a way that she knew made you weak in the knees. She raised her hand before a loud echoing slap hit your cheek. You let out a moan and pressed your legs together harder as tears finally fell. “Lying gets you nowhere. I'll ask you again, Detka.” she paused, faining tenderness as she wiped a tear away from your face. “Did you do this?” every word she spoke was drawn out and stern as she raised her eyebrow and held your chin in place, forcing you to look into her eyes. Slowly you began to nod, bracing yourself for the slap you knew was about to come. When she raised her hand a slap did not come. Instead, she giggled at your flinch and reached down, snapping your bra snap on your shoulder. “This is what happens when little girls try to do things that are too big for them,” she spoke slowly, making sure each word sunk in. “You didn't even have time to fully undress for Mommy.” she shook her head and snapped your bra strap once again before pushing you to lay back on the bed. She climbed on top of you, straddling one of your thighs as she ground her hips, working herself up.

“Please Mommy,” you whined out softly as your hips raised into her, begging for any amount of pleasure you could get. Another slap fell hard across your cheek and you felt your thoughts slowly drift further into a fuzzy headspace. You moaned at the feeling. Her hand was wet from the tears that had fallen down your face and she made it a point to wipe her hand on your bare stomach.

“I didn’t permit you to speak. Did I?” She asked firmly as she leaned down, kissing and nipping at your neck. You shook your head frantically as you struggled to keep your hands by your sides. She slid her hands back up your stomach and muttered under her breath. “Good girl.” Before pulling your bra down to reveal your breasts. She wasted no time as she quickly kissed down towards your chest, taking the small bud into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around your nipple as her hand snaked down into your panties, finally touching you where you needed it most. She gasped dramatically and pulled her head up, locking eyes with you when she felt your wetness. Your face turned a deep shade of red as she proceeded to tease and taunt you for how wet you had been at her from only just slapping and teasing you. All of your thoughts were consumed by her in a fuzzy bliss.

Without warning she slipped two fingers inside of you easily. Her fingers made quick work of pumping in and out, stretching and curling them just where you needed it most. You moaned loudly and wrapped your arms around her back, pulling her body closer to you as you hid your face in her shoulder, biting down softly on the tender flesh. This depicted a soft moan from Wanda as her hips jerked slowly against your thigh. She pulled her body back with a grin as she began to bite softly across your jaw.

“Let me see your pretty face baby. I want to see you while I fuck you.” She said her fingers worked faster, her thumb reaching up to touch your throbbing clit. You blushed red as you looked into her eyes. The moon was shining through the window casting a moonlit glow across her face, a smirk forming across it. Just as quickly as she worked you up to an orgasm, she stopped. She pulled her hand away quickly and you found yourself frantically reaching for her wrist as your hips jerked underneath her.

“No! Mommy!” You yelled out exasperated as tears fell quickly from your eyes at the loss of sensation. She smirked down at you, her tongue slowly licking her lips.

“You didn't think I'd let you cum that quickly after what a brat you've been the past few weeks little girl?” She asked in a patronizing manner as she pulled her hand out of your panties and brought her fingers to her lips. You moaned at the sight, her tongue licking her fingers clean, making a show of the process. Her fingers then slid into your mouth and you groaned at the taste of your arousal mixed with her. Your tongue swirled around her fingers as you proceeded to suck her fingers.

“Please Mommy.” was all you could seem to muster out after she pulled her fingers out of your mouth. Your mind was clouded and fogged and just where Wanda wanted it.

“Silly me,” she smiled as she looked down. “Mommy has been giving you all the pleasure, she completely forgot to undress.” she motioned towards her clothes before standing up. You groaned and reached for her when she stood, no longer touching you. You let out a soft murmur as your hands grabbed at her shirt, pressing your legs together. She stripped before walking back towards you. She tugged your panties down your legs and tossed them towards the pile of clothes before doing the same with your bra. You couldn't help but notice the wetness that had soaked Wanda's panties and now glistened her thighs. Your mouth watered at the sight as all you wanted to do was taste her.

You knew how often you had fought lately and how the arguments left you due for punishment. You just weren't exactly sure what form it would take. Anticipation flooded through your body as you looked up into her eyes, your eyes wide and innocent.

“You're going to eat me out until I cum, maybe then I'll give you what you want,” she stated firmly as she squeezed at your hips. Her touches were not gentle. Her fingers dug into your tender flesh, all of her anger, stress, and tension coming out onto you. You moaned at the touch, more sensitive and aware with each touch and mark she left across your body. She let go with a slap to your thigh and you groaned at the loss of her. You sat up and watched as she moved around the room, sitting on the bed in the middle, spreading her legs for you as she watched with dark eyes. “Come make Mommy feel good.” Her voice dripped with arousal as her words of encouragement enticed you further, not that it took much at this point though.

Quickly you moved and settled yourself between her legs. You slowly began kissing up her thighs, licking the path of arousal she had left for you. She grumbled impatiently above you, clearly already ready for attention where she needed it. Her hand snaked through your hair, gently at first as it stroked your scalp. She then grabbed a fistful, tugging your hair harshly as she forced you up higher, pushing your head between her legs. At the tug, you let out a loud moan as you cursed under your breath. You got the hint and stuck out your tongue quickly getting work between her legs. Your tongue licked up her slit before it brought fast attention to her clit. You brought your fingers up and slipped two fingers inside of her. You were kinder than Wanda had been to you, moving your fingers less harshly and aggressively. It worked nonetheless as she quickly rose to an orgasm with the combination of both your fingers and tongue. Her grip on your hair did not loosen as her hips began to jerk against your face. As she reached her peak she let out a loud moan, her hips moving frantically as she tugged harshly at your hair. The taste that hit your tongue made you moan as you quickly lapped up as much as she would allow before pulling your head away.

Her chest rose and fell heavily as she caught her breath, a gentler hand moving to your neck. You leaned up her body as you kissed her passionately. When her tongue slid across your bottom lip and your mouth you eagerly allowed it entrance. A smile grew across her face as she pulled away. You whined at the loss but it was quickly relieved when she pressed a singular finger to your lips.

“Mommy.” You moaned out as your hips began to grind against her stomach. Her hand snaked down her stomach to touch you, her fingers ghosting over your clit.

“Come sit on my face Detka.” She said firmly as she adjusted her positioning, letting your thighs rest next to her head. You were hesitant yet eager as you slowly lowered yourself down, moaning loudly as her tongue finally made contact. Your hips jerked against her face as you ground against her tongue. You were worked up quickly, faster than ever as she seemed to know exactly where you needed it. She mumbled out from underneath you as she worked you up towards an orgasm. “Beg for it, Malyshka.”

Quickly words began to tumble out of your mouth as desperation to cum was needed. “Please, Mommy. Please!” You practically yelled as your hips jerked more, her nails digging into your thighs. “Please let me cum.” You begged. She complied with a grin.

“Cum for Mommy, Detka.” She said as her tongue moved rapidly beneath you. Instantly you reached your peak, reaching for the bead frame in front of you to steady yourself as you moaned loudly. When Wanda felt you had settled enough she gently pulled you down next to her and into her arms. You shook a little in Wanda's arms as she held you for the first time in weeks. Her fingers tangled in your hair as she slowly combed through the mess she had made, taking time to massage your scalp. All the thoughts of your fights had completely melted away and you were consumed by her and her embrace.

“Mommy.” You murmured as tears began to fall on your cheeks again, your face nuzzling closely in the crook of her neck.

“You did so good baby, so good.” She praised quietly as she kissed behind your ear. Her fingertips found a gentle pattern of scratching up and down your back with one hand while the other massaged where she pulled your hair. Praise was whispered into your ear as she held you closely, not wanting to let go. Never wanting to let go. Slowly your sobs calmed and you settled into her embrace, slowly lifting your head to leave soft kisses across her jaw and neck.

“I love you, Wanda.” The words left your mouth for the first time in weeks and a soft smile crept across your lips. Wandas' face glimmered with love as she pulled you into a kiss.

“I love you too, Detka.” She whispered through kisses as she could only hold you closer. After a while of the silent embraces Wanda's thoughts of the fights crept back into memory. “We’re going to be okay.” She hesitated and looked towards you. “Right?” She spoke softly, her voice filled with fear at the thought of losing you. You nodded and kissed her softly, your mind foggy and cloudy as all you wanted was to be close to her. That night you slept close, tangled up in each other's love, neither wanting to pull away.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

The next morning when you woke up snuggled up in Wanda's arms felt different. The bliss that usually followed had dissipated and all you could think about was the pain of being with her. You gained a sinking pit in your stomach as guilt and fear coursed through your body. The flight response kicked in. You couldn't be with her, not now. Tears began to fall as you quickly but carefully left the bed and Wanda's embrace. Hurriedly you moved for some clothes as you threw on the closest things you could find without waking her. You reached for the door handle but paused. One glance back to Wanda confirmed it. You couldn't be here. So where did you go? Who greeted you with open arms? Natasha.

#wanda maximoff #wanda marvel #marvel #wanda #mommy wanda #smut #hurt/comfort #angst #wanda x reader #wandavision #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wandanat #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #wanda maxmoff x y/n

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lloydskywalkers · 2 months ago

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drywall

went to go work on raising hell and ended up missing Skylor, so!! I will always have so many emotions about s8/9 and the aftermath of it, here's another gallon of them.

Two months after they’ve taken back the city and the street lights are finally starting to work again, Lloyd shows up at the restaurant an hour past closing time, sporting a spectacular bruise and enough blood across his gi to make the Ninjago City Blood Drive team’s day.

“Hi, Sky.” Lloyd waltzes — or attempts to, it’s more of a stumbling collapse — right in as if nothing’s amiss in the slightest. “Sorry, I’m, uh. Was in the neighborhood and I wasn’ sure…where else t’ go.”

Skylor, still frozen over a stained tabletop with her dishtowel in hand, stares at him.

All things considered, she should be fully prepared for something like this. It should practically be in her restaurant’s training manual, that at some point you’ll end up confronted with a bloody, half-dead ninja in your door. But given how slow the past few weeks have been, coupled with the sheer exhaustion of dealing with the lunch rush and the dinner rush and the late-night somewhat-inebriated people rush, her guard is apparently down enough to leave her reacting with a simple, useless, “Oh god.”

“Tha’s my grandfather,” Lloyd says. There’s blood at the corner of his mouth — coupled with the bruising, Skylor thinks (hopes) it’s simply from split skin or a bitten cheek, instead of crippling internal bleeding.

Crippling internal bleeding is enough of a concern to finally spur her into action, dropping her towel and rushing over to help Lloyd finish stumbling through the door. She spares a moment of thanks, that there’s even a door at all — repairs in the city have been slow, since Harumi’s brief reign of terror, and the insurance provider is still holding out on her.

But the door was a good thing to prioritize, she thinks, bolting it firmly behind them.

“Sorry, again,” Lloyd murmurs. His jaw is working in the tight way it does when he’s biting back pain, his bottom lip bruised and bleeding. Skylor’s stomach twists.

You’d think, after all she’s been through, she’d be more accustomed to seeing the people she cares about in pain. That she’d be desensitized enough, to fight back the aching nausea and the gnawing desire to look away.

Or maybe she’s just a coward. That would track, she thinks.

“Shush,” she says instead, maneuvering Lloyd further into one of the nicer booths, careful of the blood that’s…everywhere. “What did you do to yourself this time, huh?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Lloyd grumbles, his voice steadier now that he’s sitting down. Unfortunately, he’s only paler under the yellowy restaurant lights, and the blood looks about ten times worse. “I just…slipped. A bit.”

Slipped. Skylor could smack him, if he wasn’t already hurt.

“Lemme see, then.” She bends down to where she can tug the folds of his gi back, trying to trace the blood to a source. She finally finds it — an ugly wound in his left shoulder, several long gashes across his forearm. A knife, maybe. Possibly a sword, but it looks close-up and quick. It’d need to have been quick, for whoever was wielding it to land this many hits.

Or Lloyd would have to be sloppy.

Lloyd gives a stifled, shuddery exhale, a dangerous preamble to tears. Skylor pauses, just for a moment, and deliberates.

She’s got Nya’s number, carefully keyed into her phone ever since she and Kai started visiting the noodle house. There’s no doubt in her mind that she’d want to know about this — and there’s less doubt that Kai would want to know. if anything, she’s surprised he hasn’t burst through the restaurant doors already, summoned by whatever sixth sense he has that goes off when Lloyd’s in danger.

But Skylor also knows there’s got to be a reason that Lloyd came here, despite his claims. Just as there’s probably a reason he didn’t call Kai or Nya, or any of the others.

And perhaps she feels just a little proud, that Lloyd’s chosen her to come to.

It’s quickly lost in the blood that coats her hands as she begins patching the wound in his shoulder, but the feeling’s there nonetheless.

It’s a nice feeling, being relied on. Being trusted.

“Who got you this bad?”

She speaks up mostly to break the quiet. Lloyd isn’t quite like Kai, who likes talking simply to fill a space, but she knows he isn’t fond of silence, either. It’s one of the things they share in common.

“No one.” Lloyd sucks in a breath as she draws the bandage tight across his shoulder, wrapping it beneath his arm and back over. His eyes close briefly as she ties it off, forehead scrunching up, before he lets out another shuddery exhale. “Some guy, uh — guy on the way home, near the subway. I had answered a call earlier, and I guess — ow, hey—”

“Sorry,” Skylor winces, as she finishes dumping antiseptic across the slashes on his arm. “It hurts less if you aren’t expecting it.”

“That’s a lie,” Lloyd says, pointedly.

She shrugs. “So, random subway mugger?”

Lloyd looks away, his cheeks darkening. It’s a relief, to see any color in his face at all. “Sort of.”

He leaves it at that, lapsing back into silence. Skylor looks down, focusing on the butterfly stitches she’s placing across his arm. Were it anyone else, she’d have panicked for actual stitches, but Lloyd heals with an uncanny quickness. She remembers Nya complaining about it, back during the Resistance — how Lloyd threw a fit when his skin healed over the stitches, and they’d had to cut him open all over again.

She’d probably throw a fit of her own, to be fair.

“Well, if you see him,” she says, reaching for the roll of bandages. “Point him out. I could use a punching bag.”

Lloyd’s lips quirk, a ghost of a smile.

“Thank you.”

It’s quiet enough she might’ve missed it, if they were any further apart. Skylor doesn’t miss the meaning, either. She simply shakes her head, wrapping another layer around his arm.

“I’m just glad you came to someone,” she says. “Instead of half-assing it yourself.”

Lloyd’s fingers twitch. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Uh-huh.”

She can’t pretend she doesn’t understand. Her childhood is filled with fun little memories of patching herself together, hiding wounds from Clouse or her father in an attempt to convince them she was better than she was.

Not that the people Lloyd is hiding from are anything remotely like her father, of course, but there’s an overlap between people you fear and people you love, and trying to convince them you’re stronger than you are.

“That should do it,” she nods to herself, surveying her work. She feels unusually proud of herself — Skylor’s never really stayed with a team long enough to have many chances to patch people up. It’s rarer that people are so open to her touching them, once they’ve learned what her power is. The ninja are an exceedingly kind exception, but it still makes her feel warm, being given this kind of trust.

She glances up, eyeing her patient. Lloyd’s still pale, but it’s far better than the ashy color from earlier anymore. “Anywhere else?”

“No.” Lloyd stares at the strip of bandages across his arms, shoulders hunched over on himself.

“I have Nya on speed dial, you know—”

“Its just a few scrapes,” Lloyd rolls his eyes. “It’s nothing.”

Skylor sighs. “Lemme see.”

Lloyd grumbles, but he lets her grab his arm again, wincing as she dabs antiseptic over the smaller cuts. There’s nothing serious — just a few nicks and scratches, the kind you get from eating the ground mid-fight. He’s got one uglier scrape, but it’s about as nasty as a skinned knee, and easily eclipsed by the scar it bleeds through.

Her fingers falter. She knows this scar — she was there when Kai struggled to patch the wound it once was, back on her father’s island. It’s an ugly, jagged scar, a testament to how Kai’s hands had shook as he’d tried to be gentle.

In hindsight, it had been a terrible moment. Kai wasn’t sure if Lloyd had picked up the wound from the underground tunnels, Chen’s cultists, or his own brief slip into the madness of the staff. Lloyd wouldn’t say where it was from, even if either of them had been much for talking. And Skylor had been an awkward, purple-scaled fixture next to them, holding the medical kit while the others planned how to kill her father.

And yet, it was the lightest she’d ever felt.

Skylor bites her lip.

She’s never told Lloyd, what exactly he’d meant to her. He likely has no idea, what he’d represented when she’d first met him.

The son of one of Ninjago’s greatest villains — and people loved him.

Kai loved him.

If Lloyd could overcome the hurdle of his parentage and choose to live the way he wanted, if people could look past the dark stain of his legacy and love him anyways, then maybe—

He’d been hope, when she needed it most. And Kai had lived up to that hope, taking Skylor’s half-formed, frail dream and fueling it into a blaze.

Her eyes close, briefly, and she shivers.

“Are you okay?”

Blinking her eyes back open, she comes face to face with Lloyd’s concerned expression. She shakes her head, looking away.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Embarrassment pulls at her. “Just a bit of…aftershocks. You know.”

Lloyd frowns, clearly not knowing. “Aftershocks,” he repeats. “From…”

His eyes go wide, only for his expression to immediately crumple. “Oh.”

Skylor waves her hands. “It’s not bad,” she reassures him. “I can barely feel him — his power — anymore. Just pins and needles in my hands sometimes, that’s all. Totally…totally normal.”

She hopes. Garmadon’s power had burned, in the way bitter cold feels against your skin, so a bit of numbness is pretty decent tradeoff, if she says so herself.

Lloyd looks down, expression shadowed and hidden. Skylor could curse herself — she knows better, than to bring up—

“Here.” Lloyd’s suddenly holding his hand out, looking at her earnestly. It’s an almost childish expression of sincerity, one that makes him look much younger — a little more like the Lloyd she met on her father’s island, who beamed when his father ruffled his hair.

Her chest aches fiercely, and Skylor holds out her hand before she can hesitate. Lloyd takes it carefully in his own, and she watches in fascination as the low shimmer of green engulfs her fingers. Lloyd’s power is as gentle as he is — nothing like the ravaging purple storm that was his father’s.

“Oh,” she says. “That’s nice.”

Lloyd makes a humming noise. “I’ve been practicing. H-his power doesn’t get along with mine, that much. So it kinda…makes room. For whoever’s stronger, at the moment.”

Skylor fights back a shudder. Realistically, she knows she shouldn’t feel ashamed, that Garmadon overpowered her — he’s Garmadon. The reminder of how his power felt still stings, though.

It’s a reassurance, that Lloyd’s power is stronger now. His element, if you can even call it that, is probably the one she’s the least familiar with — she’s never tried to copy Lloyd’s power. She isn’t entirely sure if she could, or if she should. Dipping into Garmadon’s power was dangerous enough. Skylor isn’t stupid enough to pretend she has the willpower to meddle with the power of the FSM’s family much more than that.

“It feels like cheating, kinda,” she finally says. “That fighting fuels his power. How are you supposed to fight back?”

Lloyd shrugs, letting her hand go. “You don’t. You get really good at dodging.”

Skylor leans forward, propping her chin up in her palms. “That’s stupid.”

“Well,” Lloyd’s lips twitch, just the slightest bit. “That’s Garmadon, so.”

His expression immediately fractures, and Skylor can spot the battle in his eyes as he tries to grasp for composure. Her teeth worry at her lip.

She should really call Nya, now. Or try to track down Kai’s number. Or anyone else — it’s nearly two hours past closing, the kitchen’s still a mess, and Lloyd’s blood is all over her dishrags. Lloyd himself is hardly in better shape, the ghostly pale of his skin reminding her horribly of when she first saved them from the Sons of Garmadon, and Skylor is—

Not enough.

She ought to know that, by now.

But the fact still stands, that Lloyd came to her. A part of her clings to that, and another selfish, awful part of her, the part that festered on her father’s island for so many years, the part that still flinches beneath the weight of her last name — well.

Misery loves company, is probably the best way to put it.

“I should…I should probably get going,” Lloyd says, uncertainly. He doesn’t make any move to get up, though, still small and weary where he’s hunched up in her booth.

Skylor stares at him, and thinks of sitting for hours on the edge of her father’s island, staring at the sun on the water until her eyes ached.

“Hey,” she says, a bit breathless, twisting her fingers together. “Wanna go skip rocks?”

Quite fairly, Lloyd stares at her like she’s lost her mind.

They end up on the rickety end of one of Ninjago City’s abandoned docks anyways, a mismatched selection of somewhat flat rocks spilling out of a Chen’s to-go bag. Lloyd’s left arm is tied up in a mangled sort of sling they fashioned from Skylor’s old sweatshirt, leaving him to turn a rock over in his right hand awkwardly.

“So, funny thing,” he says. “I don’t, uh. I’m not very good at this.”

“That’s okay,” Skylor says, sifting through the rocks they’ve gathered. “I’m not, either.”

“Yeah?” Lloyd sounds hopeful. “I mean, you at least know the trick to it, right?”

“I don’t,” she shrugs. “I’ve never…I’ve never skipped rocks before.”

Lloyd stares at her.

“It’s not that weird,” she huffs, fighting back the urge to hide. “I mean, I never really had the chance, but I aways thought — I grew up near the ocean, and all these lakes, so I always thought it’d be fun to, y’know, skip rocks, since I didn’t really have…anyone else, to…”

The rest of the sentence is about to turn even more humiliating, so it’s a relief when Lloyd interrupts her.

“I haven’t either.”

He immediately flushes. “That’s why I’m not good at it.’Cause I’ve never actually skipped rocks.”

“Oh.” Skylor looks at their bag, then back up at him. “Well, cool. We’ll both suck, then.”

“How hard can it be, anyways?” Lloyd says, sorting through their rocks. “You just find a flat one, right?”

“Yeah,” Skylor says. “Then you sort of just, frisbee it. I think.”

“Hm.”

“You haven’t thrown a frisbee either, have you.”

“Oh, like you have.”

Skylor presses her lips together, snorting. “Was wondering when your snark was gonna show back up.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Do you not remember half the stuff that came out of your mouth, back at the tournament?”

“You would’ve been out of your mind too, if you had to herd the guys around then — also, bold words coming from you, ooh, how dare you call me a traitor, even though it’s totally dead-on—”

“That wasn’t even close to what I said, and also—” Skylor snatches a smooth rock before Lloyd can, hefting it up. “It’s not like I was gonna admit to you all I was a traitor. That defeats the whole purpose of betraying. Lying my way out of a corner was the smart choice.”

“You’d be surprised,” Lloyd mutters, as Skylor flings her rock across the water.

They both watch as it splashes sadly, sinking instantly like, well. A rock.

“Okay,” Skylor cringes. “That was a warm-up.”

Several warm-ups later, neither of them have made any progress whatsoever, save to torment whatever fish are hanging out on this side of Ninjago City’s harbor with relentless rock barrages.

“This is ridiculous,” Lloyd huffs, watching as his rock all but torpedoes into the water. “What’s wrong with us, that we can’t get one stupid rock to skip?”

“Maybe it’s in the wrist?” Skylor flexes her hand, angling it one way then another. She winds ups, throws the rock out, and — nope.

“I think we’re getting worse,” Lloyd remarks as Skylor sputters, wiping the seawater that splashed up from her face.

She can’t help but agree. They’re down to a few rocks left, and neither of them have made any progress, much less skipped a single rock. At some point, they give up altogether, seeing who can throw their rock out the furthest instead.

“This one’s going…” Lloyd raises his arm, closing one eye and squinting as he angles higher. He finally pauses with his hand pointing upwards toward Ninjago City. “Right through that weird oval thing on Borg Tower.”

“Don’t hit it too hard,” Skylor says. “They just got it back up last week.”

“I’m not hitting it, it’s going through it, weren’t you listening?”

“To you? Nah. I’ve heard you suck at public speaking.”

“Wow, after you forced me into the live broadcast and everything—”

As if to emphasize his distress, Lloyd takes a running start, hurling the rock forward. They watch as it arcs across the skyline, before plummeting somewhere in the harbor.

“So close,” Skylor murmurs.

Lloyd flops on the ground with a dull thump, legs sprawling in front of him as he leans back on his elbows. Skylor’s makeshift sling isn’t doing much at all anymore, though it looks like he doesn’t need it to.

That, or he’s hiding pain stupidly well. Which wouldn’t be surprising, if disappointing.

“Defeated,” he mourns. “Overthrown by rocks.”

Skylor dusts gingerly at the ground before sitting next to him. “They sure got the best of us, this time.”

“Maybe it’s a learning curve,” he says. “That or we missed, like, the optimal rock-skipping development time.”

“Mmh. Maybe we need to recruit a teacher who actually had a decent childhood.”

“If you find someone, lemme know.”

They both laugh, breathless and hollow, because they’re not much else they can say, to that.

Lloyd sits up suddenly, pulling his knees to his chest. His arms wrap tightly around them, eyes glued forward. Instead of asking, Skylor follows his gaze to the skyline of Ninjago City, the darkened scars left behind by Garmadon and Harumi painfully pronounced this late at night.

It couldn’t have been longer than two weeks, could it? Their rule over the city?

It feels like years.

She can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for the others — can’t imagine what it was like, ending it.

It pains her, but Skylor doesn’t remember much of Garmadon’s defeat. She’d thrown everything she had into controlling his power, and when it had snapped back on her, ravaging through her like a cloying poison, everything had gone dark and hazy.

It kind of sucks, because she’d done all that just to miss the most important parts, but…it is what it is.

What she does remember, besides Nya’s steady voice and Dareth’s panicked yelling, is the blazing warmth that was Lloyd carrying her.

That and his painfully bony shoulder digging into her stomach.

“I was trying not to get us crushed,” Lloyd mutters, cheeks turning pink. “Sorry my shoulder wasn’t up to cushion-y standards.”

“And I’m trying to say thank you,” Skylor sighs. “But seriously. Put something on those bones.”

“Meh meh meh,” Lloyd mocks. There’s a lack of his usual energy in the action, the dullness to his eyes only made worse by the bruise-like circles beneath them. But it’s still very Lloyd — a flash of the friend she knows.

“I really do mean it,” she says. “Thank you. For carrying me out of there. For saving me.”

Lloyd stares at her with dark eyes. Not as dark as they were, back when he’d lost his power, but the glow is almost entirely absent.

“You shouldn’t—” he bites off, frustrated. He tosses the rock he’s holding, up and down. “It was never a question.”

He glances at her. “Besides,” and there’s the closest she’s seen to a real smile. “You saved us first.”

Not nearly soon enough, she thinks.

She should’ve told him, should have asked — should have let him know how it felt to watch her father fall deeper into madness, told him what it felt like to lose hope — what it meant, to move on.

To cut ties, before they strangled you.

“How are you,” she says, as gently as she can. Then, because gentle doesn’t always get you through the walls they build— “For real. Not how people want to hear you’re doing, or the answer you think they want. How are you.”

Lloyd stiffens. There’s a flicker of fear in his expression, his mouth moving on instinct.

“I’m doing okay.”

Tremors lace through his hand where he holds the rock, shuddering fingers tracing over the rough surface.

“Okay as I can be.” He looks down, the rock slipping from his fingers as his arms wrap around himself. “I know that isn’t the answer you want, but I don’t…”

He looks back up, the lights of Ninjago City misty in his eyes.

“I don’t know what people want me to say,” he whispers.

Skylor wishes he’d screamed it. Wishes he’d snap, wishes he’d find the anger where it simmers inside him and turn it outwards against the world, rather than violently projecting it inwards like a masochistic missile all the time. Anything at all, instead of this hollow brokenness.

It reminds Skylor a bit too much of—

Well.

“I know I — things are—” Lloyd swallows. He pauses, raising his hand to scrub at an already-bloodshot eye. “Everything happened so fast. It was like — like getting hit with a bus, then another bus, then she — put the bus in reverse and ran me back over, and I never really had the chance to…to…”

“To get back up?”

Lloyd nods. He picks absently at a bloodstained patch on the leg of his gi. “And I know that’s just a stupid metaphor, but getting back up is…it’s really—”

Lloyd’s pulling threads loose now, tugging hard enough that he’s likely to start unraveling holes in his gi.

“Can I tell you something? Something that’s not…not so good.”

“Hey, you know me.” Skylor elbows him. “I’m an expert at not-good.”

Lloyd’s eyes are a little too knowing. “You’re really not.”

And she’d turn a mirror on him, if she could. “What is it, then?”

Lloyd looks away, one unusually-sharp tooth gnawing at his lip.

“I know my dad — my dad I used to have — he loved me. I know he did.” Lloyd sounds, rather devastatingly, like he’s trying to convince himself. “But now that he’s…now that he’s like this, and after everything that happened, I almost wish — I almost—”

He cuts off, covering his face with his hands. “Never mind.”

Skylor stays still, her gaze fixed ahead on a dark spot in the city skyline. If it were her, she’d want—

Lloyd’s voice is a muffled whisper. “I wish he’d never loved me at all.”

Skylor lets out a long, shaky breath.

Lloyd gives a dry, horrible kind of laugh. “That’s terrible, isn’t it? It’s so selfish, it’s — I’m a horrible person, for thinking that way. But it — it hurts now, to think that — that maybe, now that I’m different — and her — that even my dad—”

“It hurts,” she murmurs. “To lose it. To think that it’s your fault.”

Lloyd brings his arms over his head, the bandages on his left arm a stark white in the dimness as he buries his face in his knees. Curling up, as if he can make himself small enough the world will finally forget he exists.

Skylor’s…familiar.

But then again, is she?

She swallows. Her father was one thing, but if — if he came back now, after she’s worked so hard to move on — at the height of his madness, what would she do?

She’s out of her depth, as she’s always been.

But there was a reason she answered the call so fervently, a reason she followed Lloyd without hesitation. Skylor doesn’t put much stock in the Green Ninja, doesn’t put much in any kind of prophecy. But she does care, very much, about Lloyd, and she thinks that’ll take her a bit farther.

“You know.” She looks down, running her finger over their last rock. “You were one of the first people that gave me any hope that I could change. That, uh, someone could love me.”

Lloyd startles, emerging just enough that she can see the green of an eye. “Huh? Me?”

She nods. “Back on my father’s island, during the tournament. I was convinced that…that after everything I’d done, with who I was, there wasn’t a chance I’d find someone who loved me.”

Lloyd frowns, lowering his arms so he can look at her fully. “But I didn’t — Kai was the one who reached out to you. He was the one that saw you. I didn’t…I didn’t really do anything.”

“Yeah. He did. But he reached out to you, first.”

Lloyd stares at her, eyes wide. Skylor smiles at him. “You were good. No matter how bad your family had been. And it…it had been okay, for you.”

The mistiness returns to Lloyd’s eyes as he looks back to the skyline, his lip caught tightly between his teeth.

“We’re doing okay, right?” Skylor pulls her own knees up to her chest. “You and me. I mean, we helped, a lot. We fought back for the city. You did a lot more than me, obviously, but—”

“Don’t say that,” Lloyd sounds pained. “Don’t compare it, like I’m — I do a lot more harm than good, sometimes.”

“You don’t say that,” Skylor snaps.

Lloyd flinches. She bows her head, staring down at her feet.

“We’re good,” she says, hating the way her voice wobbles. “We’re different.”

It’s occurring to her, how cold it is out here on the water. She hopes Lloyd doesn’t get home with a cold, on top of everything else.

“We’re different,” Lloyd echoes.

“Yeah.” Skylor swallows. “That has to count for something, right?”

Lloyd makes a small noise, but it isn’t one of disagreement. There’s a rustling as he reaches for the bag, then holds out their final, sad rock.

“Wanna give it the last try?” He gives her a crooked, half smile. “Make it count?”

Her fingers close over the rough surface, cold against the warmth of his hand.

The brightness of the sun against water on her father’s island in her eyes, Skylor flings the rock as hard as she can, far enough that it’s swallowed entirely by the harbor darkness.

If she tries, she can imagine it skipping, just once, across the freezing waters.

She tells herself, it counts anyways.

#ninjago #lloyd garmadon #skylor chen #my fic #skylor come back i miss u sm...please skylor...#anyways this was the result. of too much paris paloma.#lloyd should get to be more messed up after sog i think. that's all

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myun-saidthoughts · 11 months ago

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8th House Synastry Observations

🍄 These types of connections (romantic or platonic) can't be lighthearted; if there is genuine care within the dynamic intensity is very likely.

🍄 You have to consciously tell yourself to "not react" in moments when the other person fails to meet your expectations.

🍄 Emotions flood within you before your brain can logically calm you down.

🍄 Upset facial expressions/elongated eye glances/staring oftentimes can occur when the other person is again *failing to meet expectations.*

🍄 You always will compare how *they* make you feel vs how other people make you feel.

🍄 With other intense synastry aspects (such as more 4h/12h, nodal, or vertex synastry) or genuine care, reading each other just by their eyes alone is extremely easy. Just by a look, you will know how they feel.

🍄 In these connections you may know what not to do, you logically will know that the long period of stares, the obvious dissatisfaction you feel is not really justified usually because of outside factors, the lack of foundation within the connection, or just by the fact there's been little to no communication on either end, and yet that doesn't change or minimize the pain or feelings you have towards them from their actions.

🍄 Even if one person doesn't have natal scorpio/pluto/8th house placements/aspects in their chart, if they care about the other person; they will also have intense expectations on the other person.

🍄 In a platonic opposite-gender connection where one party has a romantic partner, you might understand that their actions towards you should lessen, especially in respect towards their partner but despite that rational understanding, the pull of your connection with them often overrides. Even if a part of you wants to respect their relationship logically and consciously, the underlying need for their attention or care persists.

🍄 In romantic connections (especially with moon/venus in another's 8th house) their eyes (the planet person) tells you it's okay to let that vulnerable side of you that you've shunned out, and without words; that emotional closeness that you've always wished to feel is suddenly fulfilled and with ease.

🍄 8th house connections undertake more Plutonian energy. If you are un-healed, then their actions or lack thereof can ignite parts of your character that you don't even recognize.

🍄 If you struggle with BPD/BPD tendencies then connections that take on more 8th house/pluto synastry will feel enticing and familiar, you are more likely to be drawn to the intense high and lows that this connection brings.

🍄 The deep rooted attraction with these connections mainly lies in the fact that you can allow yourself to feel emotionally close and vulnerable to someone else, the more you crave expressing emotional vulnerability the more attractive they become to you. (especially with objective/attraction synastry aspects)

🍄 Once their actions or once certain consist factors/situations creates a severe emotional blockage between you and them; the less desirable they will feel to you (especially so if you struggle with polarizing emotions)

🍄 It could be months since you've spoken to them, months since their eyes have met yours and if you still struggle with emotional acceptance/self love/self worth/self value; then a longing for them might ignite in any abrupt moment (whether it be from a photo of them, running into a mutual friend, from reading a cathartic quote that reminds you of them) a spark that once persisted for so long will make it's self known, and the part of you that you thought you said good-bye too, might reappear again.

🍄 8th house connections consist of cycles and loops, it's a dilemma of letting go to longing, it's understandable to sometimes have these waves of wanting even if you logically know you shouldn't.

🍄 Longing for one another on both ends (all that needs to be present is sincere care) can occur.

🍄 The longing you feel if they do leave your presence is the part of you that craves emotional closeness and serenity.

🍄 Logically you may know and have objective expectations of how they should treat you because of other factors and yet certain expectations or desires you have within will persist.

🍄 Even if nothing substantial or foundational ever occurred between the two of you, the reactions within you might reenact as if the two of you dated for months, years even.

🍄 There could be an emotional block between you two and the desire for them may diminish but If they look at you for one second the way they used too, the desire for them will arise as if the feeling never left.

🍄 The intensity of this connection swings between unspoken loyalty and complete avoidance—one extreme is driven by the fear of showing disinterest, and the other is driven by the fear of being a burden. If you’re not preoccupied with displaying your loyalty to them in a room full of people, you find yourself avoiding eye contact or minimizing conversation to maintain a facade of “normalcy”—a normalcy that doesn’t truly exist in this connection.

🍄 In romantic/attraction based relationships, and if you share 12th/South Node synastry/conjunctions with them; then you might feel this underlying tension to stay loyal to them.

Example:

For the more anxious type or with natal 12th/8th influence: At a party you focus on not giving another person too much attention because you feel they might get jealous or upset, even if there's nothing foundational. You only focus on their eyes in the room, and you make sure to showcase that your undivided attention is on them; even if they don't do or say anything to receive that loyal behavior. You can't help it.

For the more avoidant type or without natal 12th/8th influence (or no attraction even): You might overcompensate and try to talk/give attention to other people in front of them to showcase how "little" you care; so you may try to act like they are unimportant. This behavior could be out of insecurity, especially if this occurs when you feel jealous/or if they didn't exceed an expectation you had. It also could stem from the fact you feel fearful that you care and it feels uncomfortable that you dislike when they receive attention from others. (another note is if you're avoidant and when you get too much attention from someone else, you may realize how little you care about the 'distraction' you asked for and you'll start to wish the person in front of you was person you share 8th house synastry with)

The loops!! Cycles!! Staring! Longing! You want them then you don't, then you do, then you don't.

💞 In these observations each individual has to be emotionally prepared and open to emotional closeness, if someone is emotionally and spiritually un-evolved then no matter how "open" you naturally feel with them, that should never justify reoccurring pain or abuse that the other party causes 💞

#astrology #astro notes #astro observations #12th house synastry #8th house synastry #8h synastry #12h synastry #8th house #astrology notes #pluto synastry #8th house astrology #astrologers #astrology thoughts #moon conjunct pluto #venus conjunct pluto #moon square pluto #neptune

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kannouo · 3 months ago

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Bennett Dupe

fandom: obey me pairing: demon brothers & dateables x gn!reader warnings: none summary: the brothers and dateables with an extremely unlucky mc. prompt by @snoogeewoogee: as a contrast to super lucky MC, an MC who’s super UNLUCKY like Mammon refuses to take them gambling- like on their first day of R.A.D, when they come through the portal and they just immediately face plant 😭 (Could this include the brothers and the dateables if that’s ok? If it’s easier for you you can only just do the brothers!! Sorry if my request isn’t clear it’s my first time trying it-) A/N: your request was perfectly clear, don't worry about it! and i included all of the characters you asked for. forgive me for the title. also, i literally just looked up "bad luck superstitions" and tried to incorporate some into these hcs, so if some things seem random thats why lol.

LUCIFER

• From the moment you first stumbled through the portal to the Devildom and landed face-first on the solid ground, nearly breaking your nose in the process, Lucifer knew you were going to be a headache.

• At first, he thought you were just clumsy. You'd bang your knee on the dinner table almost every time you stood up, tripped over yourself more times than he could count, and managed to break several vases and plates within the first month of your stay that you had to replace.

• He quickly noticed that it wasn't just carelessness, however. No — bad omens and misfortune seemed to follow you everywhere you went.

• As strangely excited you appeared to be when a magpie flew into your room through an open window, Lucifer couldn't help but be suspicious when as soon as he shooed the bird out of the house, it was immediately followed by some of the heaviest rain he's seen in years despite the forecast having predicted clear skies.

• Lucifer learned very quickly that you essentially required a bodyguard to protect you from... yourself.

• All windows are shut, locked and covered during a lightning storm, and you are to stay within his sight at all times just in case. He or one of his brothers are to escort you to and from RAD as well as between classes to prevent you from accidentally walking out in the middle of a brawl between two demons. He scours the halls and every classroom you've been in after every school day because you somehow always leave something behind. He baby-proofs most sharp edges and corners in the house because you just keep hitting your head against them.

• But despite the grey hairs you give him, he finds you've clumsily made yourself at home in his heart anyways.

• Life has truly dealt you a bad hand — but you still carry on, and with so much enthusiasm. Perhaps it's how upbeat you are, even when you come home soaking wet as it suddenly started raining the moment you stepped one foot out of RAD. Perhaps it's how willing you are to offer your help, and even when it blows up in your face as it so often does, you don't give in until you're able to complete what you set out to do.

• You've helped him and his family an indescribable amount, all while it seemed like fate itself was working against you. He respects and — dare I say — admires you for it.

• He tries to sprinkle in some good omens throughout your day-to-day life. Even if they go unnoticed, he hopes they will help, even if it just means you won't end up getting hit by a stray baseball that day. Ouch.

"MC," you jump as you hear Lucifer's voice sound from behind you. You spin around, almost tripping over yourself as you do so and having to steady yourself against the wall. "Uh— yeah?" He just stares at you for a moment, expression unreadable. Then he lets out a sigh and walks closer, pulling a folder out from his jacket. Your eyes widen as you recognise it — that's where your Seductive Speechcraft work went! You take it from his hands and excitedly hop towards him, wrapping your arms around him in a hug, which he simply accepts. "Thank you! Ah, I can't believe you found it!" "Yes, well, be more careful in the future." He warns as you back away again. You nod and give him a smile, but he doesn't seem particularly convinced. Then he looks down. "...Your shoes are untied, by the way." Oh.

MAMMON

• Not only did you almost trip multiple times and step in every possible puddle on your way to the House of Lamentation with him, but you also managed to get your clothes stuck in the gate leading into the front lawn, causing your RAD uniform to rip.

• Geez human, did you open an umbrella indoors before you came here or somethi— Did you just hit yourself in the face with the front door? How did you do that?

• You're so unlucky it actually astounds him for a moment, and then that astonishment quickly morphs into annoyance. He's meant to be responsible for your safety while you're here, which was enough of an inconvenience, but now it looks like you have the entire world out to get you. How is he supposed to keep you safe from yourself?

• As a result of you constantly getting hurt, put in harm's way or losing important items, Mammon gets in trouble with Lucifer a lot at the beginning. Lucifer isn't buying his excuses that you're just "really, really unlucky," so he ends up being subjected to multiple of his older brother's lectures within the first couple weeks of your arrival.

• As a result of this... he kind of resents you at first. You being here only serves to make his life harder. Don't worry though, this doesn't last long.

• Hearing a series of bangs and shouts coming from the kitchen that sounded suspiciously like you, he rolls his eyes and makes his way over with a scowl on his face. Standing in the doorway, he could see the absolute mess you'd made. Ingredients knocked over and spilling all over the counters and floor, the burnt countertop, and the damp cloth hastily put over the top of the frying pan, suggesting it'd caught on fire.

• "The hell happened?"

• "I was... I was trying to cook a meal for you," you explain sheepishly. "You've been looking after me since I first came here, and I wanted to thank you, but... well..."

• "...Really? Aw... Uh... hey, it's okay, just clean this up, alright? Actually— no. Don't touch anythin'. I'll just do it for ya."

• After that incident, he starts to realise just how hard you try. Yes, your bad luck streak causes issues for him too, but it never fully clicked in his mind just how out of your control it was. He switches from being annoyed by you to feeling really sorry for you in an instant.

• Instead of treating it like a chore, he now willingly stays by your side almost 24/7. Unless he's going gambling. He took you to a casino with him once and nearly lost his entire life savings in record time. Lesson learned.

• Mammon will also look into good omens that are supposed to boost luck. He usually uses them for himself, but he can only take so much of seeing you somehow bruise or scrape your knees every single time you go outside.

"I'm tellin' ya, it's genius! Dont'cha think so too, human? I'll be rich— practically drownin' in grimm!" "Uh, Mammon—" "—Of course that dumb stick-in-the-mud Lucifer 'forbade' me from doin' it, but whatever, I'll prove him wrong!" "—Mammon?" You tap his shoulder to get his attention and he finally stops, turning his head to look at you. "I, uh... My wallet's gone." He blinks at you and then glances around. The streets of the Devildom get fairly busy every evening, and the crowd is a perfect cover for a pickpocket. Mammon of all people would know. "...Dammit."

LEVIATHAN

• He first notices when you two were executing that plan to force Mammon into a pact with you.

• You managed to get the information out of Lucifer, sure, after it seemed like every demon in RAD was going the opposite direction as you all at once, causing you to get lost a couple times before you found your classroom again. But when the both of you met up in the kitchen to find Mammon's precious credit card... you just kept dropping the damn thing.

• He knows the ice it's stuck in is slippery, but at least hold it for a few seconds! And how the hell did you manage to jam your finger in the freezer door?!

• The human's cursed LOLOLOL. He has enough misfortune in his daily life already, especially these days when it seems like all the most promising anime get cancelled or abandoned after the first season. He won't go anywhere near you at first.

• However, when you're one of the only people to show genuine interest in his rants about various tv shows, anime and manga, he starts to feel bad for avoiding you. I mean, it's not like you're trying to have so much go wrong in your daily life...

• He slowly warms up to you and even invites you into his room to play games and watch anime with him! Though, he kind of had to learn his lesson the hard way after the first time he had you watch you an unfinished show, because the moment you started getting really into it, its cancellation was announced the next day. At least you had him to share the pain with.

• Levi tries his absolute best to show you the ropes when he plays video games with you, but even if you know the controls like the back of your hand, you just cannot win. Not even if you're teamed up with him.

• You accidentally caused him to lose his minecraft bedwars win streak once and you're still not entirely sure he's over it.

• Don't get me wrong, he really enjoys hanging out with you. Even if the controller he gave you keeps somehow running out of battery even though it was fine a moment ago, even if he's unable to finish any co-op game with you because you just cannot get past the first stage, and even if you once gave him the fright of his life by accidentally breaking the glass to Henry 2.0's tank...

• You're still his Henry, his player 2. He'll deal with all of the fallout of your bad luck if it means he gets to spend more time with you.

"Left! Left! MC, you're going the wrong way!" "I'm pressing left! It's not working!" You argue, and Levi quickly grabs the controller from you. He fiddles with it a bit, then huffs. "It's broken," he whines. "Hooow?! I give you a charger so it won't die on us again, and it breaks instead?" He flops down onto his back, covering his face with his hands. Before you can apologise, he peeks at you through his fingers and speaks up again. "I— uh— just to be clear, it's not your fault, normie. I mean, you didn't do anything, so... W—whatever, it's not a big deal. I'll just buy a new controller, and... you can... watch me play for now, I guess."

SATAN

• I mean, you would have to be pretty extraordinarily unlucky to be the one human picked to come to literal hell.

• When he first saw you stumble out of the portal and unceremoniously faceplant on the ground, he couldn't help but laugh. He quickly hid it behind his hand and his brothers quietly scolded him, but even Asmo's slaps to his shoulder didn't stop him from finding your misfortune very amusing at first.

• Before he forms much of a connection to you, he essentially uses your unlucky nature as a form of entertainment.

• He feels bad looking back on it — but come on, watching someone trip, fall directly into a puddle and then somehow drop their DDD down a drain is pretty funny in a messed up kind of way. It was like everything in your daily life was orchestrated to go wrong in the most comically elaborate ways.

• Sometimes he handed you random fragile items from around the house to observe how long it'd take for you to break it. It pissed off Lucifer, which only encouraged him to do it more.

• Eventually, he came to the same realisation the others did. After observing how your luck affected you for a while, he noticed just how much of a victim to your own misfortune you are, and started to feel very bad for you.

• He treats you much better now and no longer treats your luck as a source of comedy, but that doesn't mean he can't still find joy in it. Like when black cats just happen to cross your path almost every time you go outside. A "bad omen"? Maybe for you.

• You have to question his decision making skills when he declared you a part of the Anti-Lucifer League with him and Belphie. He insisted over and over again that it was fine, that they both want to include you in their plots. And as sweet as that is, you can't help but notice how miserably all of their schemes fail if you even happen to be close by.

• Lucifer doesn't even have to do anything. Your participation guarantees his safety. Any curses they try to use backfire on them. When they try to slip something disgusting into his food or drinks, the plate or cup always somehow gets mixed up with their own. If they're planning some kind of stealth mission, they always, always get caught, because Lucifer or one of the other brothers just happen to be in the right place at exactly the right time to catch them.

• As absolutely infuriating this is to Satan, he just grins and bears it, because he loves you and would feel terrible about excluding you now.

• He'll absolutely go looking for rare spells or enchanted objects meant to act as good luck charms and gift them to you.

Satan stares into space, his face red from both embarrassment and seething rage. You remain a cautious distance away from the net he managed to get caught in, prepared for him to turn into his demon form at any moment, but he doesn't. He just sits there, stuck in his own trap. You cringe. "...Maybe I really shouldn't participate next time." Satan looks down at you and you can see the fury in his eyes that he tries to quell with a deep breath and a forced smile. "No, it's alright. We want you here," he says, and it's the same line you heard the last time his prank against Lucifer backfired on him too. "Get me down now." Despite the fact he's trying his hardest to stay calm for your sake... you get the feeling he can't do so for much longer. You nod and advance, hoping you'll be able to get him down without making the situation even worse.

ASMODEUS

• Gasp! Oh, dear, are you alright?! Your beautiful face—!! Satan, stop laughing!

• He might have scolded the fourth-born for laughing at you, but to be honest, he was biting his tongue to keep from giggling as well. He didn't mean anything by it, it was just so comical the way you fell out of the portal. He'd never seen such a terrible landing.

• Makes a joke about how you should be careful not to break any mirrors around the House of Lamentation — it's seven years of bad luck, you know — but it isn't a joke anymore when the first time you set foot in his room, you accidentally break one of his prized full-length mirrors. An angry Asmodeus is a force to be reckoned with.

• He was pissed at first, yes, but when you apologise later on, he sighs and tells you it isn't your fault. It was just a silly little mistake. But you're not allowed inside of his room again, sorry.

• As he gets to know you better, he soon comes to the conclusion (entirely on his own) that all of these dilemmas will surely be solved with a little bit of Asmo in your life!

• He thinks of himself as a good luck charm and will try to cling right to your side whenever he can. It doesn't necessarily work, you still end up accidentally breaking most things you touch and tripping over nothing, but Asmo being with you 24/7 just means that you have another pair of eyes looking out for you. So even if it doesn't have the effect he thinks it does, it's still a huge help.

• He clashes with Mammon even more as a result of this, however, which is not so good.

• "MC don't need ya constantly hoverin' around them! They already got me — I'm the one supposed to be lookin' out for them!" "Well you clearly haven't been doing a very good job! You should've seen the bruises on their legs—" "Uh, guys? My shoe is stuck in this mud..."

• Asmo also doesn't appreciate how most of his... "quality time" with you tends to get interrupted before it even begins. One day he's going to absolutely lose it at whoever next barges into his room while he's trying to get it on with you.

• He's the perfect person to go to whenever your clothes somehow get ruined. No matter if they rip or just have a stain that won't come out, he'll either fix it or give you a brand-new outfit.

"How did your uniform get ruined again already? Didn't I just fix it for you the other day?" Asmo asks as he holds the ripped fabric up in front of him. You look down at your feet bashfully. "Sorry..." Asmo clicks his tongue and gives you a smile. "Don't apologise, honey," he pats your cheek affectionately and you tilt your head back up to face him. "I'll sew it right up again. I'll even add a cute pattern. That'll encourage you to be a little more careful next time, right? ♡"

BEELZEBUB

• He was too distracted by his hunger to notice how you fell down the moment you stepped out of the portal at first. He only realised when everyone else stirred up a commotion about it, otherwise he would have made an effort to catch you.

• Similarly to the lucky!MC headcanons, Beel likely won't piece all of the unfortunate events that seem to surround you together. He notices that you always come home soaking wet, he notices that you always seem to forget to bring something to RAD with you, and he notices that whenever you sit at the dining table, everyone becomes strangely prone to dropping and spilling their salt. But he separates these moments in his head and doesn't realise they're all connected.

• Again, it will have to be pointed out to him. After that, he'll put it all together and become doubly protective of you.

• He's pretty good at pointing out and putting a stop to unlucky situations before they even happen.

• "Watch out, your shoes are untied again." "Those stairs look slippery, take my hand." "Your jacket is stuck in the gate — don't move, I'll get it for you."

• Of course, your unluckiness effects him too, but he isn't really bothered by it. He's so unbothered that you aren't even sure he realises you're the reason why you both keep getting served the wrong dishes whenever you go out to eat together.

• Also, this man is a tank. He'll just catch you whenever you're about to slip, but he won't ever fall down himself. Not even fate can cause Beelzebub to topple over.

• Also, due to his protective nature, he tends to act as a literal meat shield. Any stray rocks that would have hit you now just pelt him on the arm and somehow get broken in half. Any cyclists who would have crashed into you are forced to an abrupt stop as Beel stands in front of you. You're even protected from sudden spells of rain because he'll hover beside you and cover your head with his huge jacket.

• Gets really sad on your behalf whenever you drop your ice cream cone. He even tries to offer you his sometimes, which you can never bring yourself to accept because you know how hungry he is.

"Oops," you hear him utter as he swiftly catches you in his arms before you can fall to the ground. He picks you up and places you back down on your feet like a doll. "Are you okay?" "Uh..." A little stunned from the sudden adrenaline rush of almost falling flat on your face, you take a moment to respond. "Yeah, I'm okay. Thank you." He shakes his head. "It's fine," he says and roughly pats your head. "I'll walk you home. It just started raining a couple minutes ago, even though Lucifer said there wouldn't be any... Weird." "...Yeah, weird."

BELPHEGOR

• He could probably hear you trip up and down the stairs to the attic multiple times as you made your way to and fro pre-lesson 16.

• Back then, he either didn't care or found it annoying. Now, it's a mix of concerning and amusing.

• He was never a believer in superstitions, but he has to wonder, did you do something that pissed off fate itself? Did you commit an act that's supposed to be bad luck, like walking under a ladder or something? Were you born on the 13th?

• Belphie has to admit that, sometimes, your misfortune presents itself in hilarious ways. He snickers whenever you seemingly trip over nothing and makes fun of you when you somehow forget to bring your backpack to RAD. But the danger your luck lands you in is far less amusing.

• If he's awake enough by the time you return home from RAD, the first thing he does is ask if you got hurt. Whether it was by taking a particularly nasty fall or by being in the wrong place at the wrong time and getting involved in a dispute between demons, he doesn't care. He just wants to know, otherwise he'll be unable to stop worrying over it.

• As much as he loves using you as a pillow, all nearby alarm clocks need to be put away or they'll, for some reason, malfunction and keep going off every 5-10 minutes. It drives him insane.

• Also, about having you in the Anti-Lucifer League... he really does like having you at their group meetings, but he's been trying to convince Satan to let you go for a while now. He knows you mean well, but, I mean... literally nothing is getting done.

• It's the Anti-Lucifer League and they haven't managed to pull off a single Anti-Lucifer scheme in a year. He doesn't want to exclude you entirely, but maybe just... reserve the really good prank ideas for days when you're already busy?

• It's not like he brings that up often though. It makes Satan mad and Belphie would also feel just as guilty about bringing it up to you.

• If your bad luck happens to cause you nightmares, Belphie is the best person to go to. He can influence people's dreams, so as long as you agree to cuddle with him, he'll be there to make sure you dream of nice things.

"Uuuugh..." You blink your eyes open to the sound of a relentlessly beeping alarm clock and Belphie's frustrated groan from where he lay on your chest. Tired and disoriented, you've barely had any time to remember what day it is and where you are when you see Belphie's tail wrap around the offending alarm clock and pick it up. Then... CRASH. You watch as the alarm clock barrels towards the closed window and breaks right through the glass. Then, silence. Sweet, sweet silence, but... "Lucifer's gonna kill you." "At least there won't be any malfunctioning alarm clocks when I die," Belphie huffed and buries his face back into your chest. You're unsure how he can even breathe like that. "Go back to sleep."

DIAVOLO

• Very startled when you fall flat on your face through the portal.

• Did he somehow summon you incorrectly, or in a bad position? No? You just... happened to collapse like that? Oh.

• After making sure that initial fall didn't do any serious damage, he, like Lucifer, assumed you were just a clumsy person. Because of this, he asked Mammon to keep an extra-close eye on you — something he knew you were going to need but didn't yet realise just how vital it would become.

• He was very glad he gave that order when he was informed of an incident in which you nearly walked out right in the middle of a brawl between two students at RAD. If Mammon hadn't been there to pull you back in the nick of time, your head probably would've been taken right off your shoulders. He enforces an even stricter no-violence policy in RAD after that.

• Of course, demons are demons and even if they have respect for their King, a rule against fights isn't going to stop them from breaking out. So the best he can do is try and aid the brothers in keeping an eye out for you. Mostly with the help of Barbatos.

• Despite taking your safety very seriously, it might not seem like he does considering his amusement at many of the unfortunate situations you seem to land yourself and the people around you in. Even if your bad luck ends up impacting him, he's more likely to find the inconvenience funny rather than frustrating.

• You have accidentally planted a curse on yourself more than a couple times during an enchantments and spells class that Diavolo has had to help in removing. Because of your tendency to do this — and the strange phenomenon of the spells that are afflicting you being somehow too strong to be removed by the brothers — he altered your schedule to make it so you don't attend classes where transformation spells or potions are involved.

• It's probably for the best, to be frank. If you did attend those classes you'd somehow end up as a block of cheese before long.

• Diavolo is another one who will look into good-luck charms and omens to help you with. He actually probably knows a few, he just never had to use them until now, and they work splendidly.

You blankly stare up at the skies of the Devildom as if to glare at whatever being decided it should start pouring with rain the moment you set foot out of RAD's main building. You sigh, pulling your jacket over your head as you prepare to make a run for it, when you suddenly hear a voice behind you. "How strange," Diavolo booms, and you can't help but jump a little. He holds his hand out into the rain as if to test it, even though it's visibly teeming it down. "It was clear skies just a moment ago. I assume you don't have an umbrella?" "...No. Do you?" "No, I seem to have left mine behind as well. I suppose we'll both have to hurry, then." He smiles, and you get the feeling he's enjoying this far more than you.

BARBATOS

• "The second human exchange student is going to make quite an entrance. It's best you be prepared for it, Young Master."

• I mean, he did try to warn him. Vaguely. Kind of.

• He's stated himself that he doesn't use his powers of future-sight constantly because it would make life boring. So although he does sometimes predict your misfortune before it happens and takes steps to prevent it, he can't always be there in time to stop unlucky situations in advance. Still, he's good at noticing and pointing things out himself without the use of his powers.

• Somehow manages to be very graceful about it. Like, you'll just be walking alongside him and in one swift movement he catches a stray pebble headed your way in his palm, tosses it to the side and encourages you to keep on walking. It's like, weirdly attractive?

• Other than that, he keeps a close eye on you, but you won't even know most of the time. He's literally one with the shadows.

• You'll be walking around the Devildom, blissfully unaware, when suddenly some random hell-beast ends up charging at you down the street. Before you can even react, Barbatos just... appears and seems to immediately have the creature tamed. His glare frightens even the most terrifying of predators.

• He'll then turn his head to look back at you, smile, and tell you to continue on your way. Yes, he was following you the whole time. No, he will not tell you that. To your knowledge, he simply knew it was going to happen thanks to his ability of foresight, and teleported to your location right in the nick of time.

• Barbatos has literally no concerns about your luck affecting him because it just won't happen. Fate can try as hard as it can, the impeccable butler will not be caught off-guard or inconvenienced in his duties.

• He does have a specific fear about letting you around him while he's in the kitchen cooking or baking, however. You're generally barred from that area while he's there.

• You're still somehow safer company than Solomon, however.

• Is one of the best people to go to if you sustain an injury as a result of a bad fall or anything else, really. He's also usually the first person to show up when that happens, considering he shadows you for most of the day. If a demon is behind you getting hurt, he'll reassure you that the offender will be dealt with appropriately, but you don't actually know what that means and you're not sure if you want to.

"And then he—" You cut yourself off with a frightened yelp as a strong hand suddenly pulls you backwards, away from the road as a speeding car whizzes by your vision. Disoriented, it takes you a moment to realise you nearly got hit, and you watch in shock as the car continues barrelling down the road until it's out of sight. "Are you quite alright?" Barbatos asks and snaps you out of your frightened daze. Suddenly your legs feel weak, and your hands are visibly trembling from the adrenaline. "I did not mean to grab you so harshly. My apologies." "No, it... it's fine, you saved my life there..." Your voice shakes. "I, um..." He extends his arm as an offer for you to lean on him, and you gladly take it, needing the support. "...I'd... like to go back home now, I think..."

SIMEON

• Very, very concerned for your well-being. He wasn't there when you were first summoned, but he was told of the incident where you face-planted right after stepping through the portal and has also been witness to a few other unlucky incidents of yours.

• Once insisted on re-tying your shoelaces himself because they kept getting undone, only for you to trip over thin air a few seconds later, at which point he concluded the shoes weren't the problem.

• While he's still an angel, he's quick to give you a blessing. I imagine, even if it won't necessarily increase your luck, it helps protect you from specific dangers — like coming into contact with certain curses or attacks by lesser demons.

• As a human, he obviously can't bless you anymore, and he instead turns to Solomon in the hopes he can apply some sort of protection magic onto you. That, and he still has Luke's blessing to rely on — the young angel had insisted on giving you a blessing as well after he'd seen Simeon do it — that might not be quite as strong as his used to be, but is still potent enough to manage lighter threats.

• You once accidentally spilled an ink pot onto a page of a new story he was writing and he nearly cried. Don't worry, he forgave you right away when he saw just how guilty you felt, but the pain...

• Next to Barbatos, Simeon is also a very good person to come to if you get hurt. He may scold you a little, but he's damn good at pampering.

• If you really sell it, you can even convince him to "kiss you better", or just lay your head down on his lap as he strokes your hair. Even if he knows you're playing it up for his attention, he thinks it's endearing enough to go along with your antics anyway.

• Absolutely holds your hand like a chaperone whenever you two go out together. It's nice, but you getting lost is a genuine concern, so you also understand the reason behind why he does it. The last time he looked away from you for two seconds you got suddenly dragged into a crowd and he lost you for what may have been the most terrifying 5 minutes of his long, long life.

• He also likes to think holding onto you will help him catch you if you start to trip, when 9 times out of 10 it just means that when you go down, he's coming with you.

"I thought it was your knee that's hurting." "Mhm." "So, how exactly is me stroking your head going to help?" Simeon asks, a soft chuckle on his lips. Despite his questions, he's already lovingly threading his fingers through your hair anyway, which tells you he doesn't really mind. "Emotional support." "Mmmhm. Alright then."

SOLOMON

• Solomon... isn't going to be of much help.

• He finds your misfortune funny and, as your teacher, would much prefer you learn how to cast luck-enhancing enchantments yourself than do it for you. So, he doesn't really do anything to help with your bad luck. At least, that's what you think.

• In actuality, he absolutely does help, but he goes about it in a similar (but even more discreet) way than Barbatos. Not only does he shadow you and follow you around whenever he has the chance, but thanks to his prowess in magic, he doesn't even need to step in to save you. He'll have some kind of spell at the ready that will do it for him.

• Of course, sometimes it's more obvious than not when he's helping you. Like when you nearly fell face-first into the very edge of a table and suddenly started floating, you could probably come to the conclusion that it was Solomon's doing all on your own. But when it comes to subtler things, like a pebble under your foot suddenly disappearing or moving away on its own or a pencil you couldn't find re-appearing on your desk, you're unlikely to even notice.

• That being said, he does still find the unfortunate scenarios you land yourself in somewhat entertaining. He especially finds it funny when you're always somehow the one to get caught in Thirteen's traps meant for him.

• "Ahaha! Good thing you opened the door before me, huh?" He laughs as you rub your aching head where the bucket collapsed on you.

• "Solomon, I'm fucking soaked."

• Also, sometimes he'll just walk up to you, give you a bunch of ingredients and a vial and tell you to make a potion. It'll be a very simple potion and he'll give you basic instructions throughout, and you may be confused as to why he does this at first until you realise that no matter how perfectly you seem to follow the recipe, the potions always turn out wrong.

• By some miracle (reverse-miracle?), the concoctions you make always have an undesired finish or effect. Sometimes it's because your horrific luck caused something else to get in by accident, other times it's completely unexplainable. It's some kind of fascinating phenomenon to him and he will continue to experiment with just how extraordinarily unlucky you can get.

"Are you two alright?" You turn your head at the sound of a voice behind you. Satan does the same, but you can see the rage he's biting back become much greater at the sight of Solomon's face. The sorcerer looks up at the two of you, both caught in nets. "How did you manage to do this?" "He got caught, and when I tried to cut him out..." You fiddle with your sleeve, a little embarrassed. "...The back-up trap activated." "Get us out." Satan demands with a hiss, and Solomon meets him with a smile. "Alright. As long as there's no back-up, back-up trap."

#obey me #obey me x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me shall we date #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #omswd #obey me! shall we date?#obey me nightbringer

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tightjeansjavi · 4 months ago

Text

And They Were Roommates | drabble

“Lavender Haze”

A/N: I have no explanation for this other than the fact that I’m severely touch deprived and want to take a bath with Joel and Logan 😔 thank you to @syd-djarin for the beautiful moodboard and thank u @sinsofsummers for betaing 😩

word count: 1.6k

Summary: A three-way in the bath OR Joel complains that his back hurts and you and Logan take care of him ;)

Pairing | Joel Miller x Logan Howlett x f!reader

Warnings: mature, smut, mentions of alcohol, throuple, Joel and Logan are your boyfriends who are also boyfriends, language, +18 minors dni!

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The days are growing increasingly shorter and colder, and the winter months are steadfast on the horizon. But despite the chill in the air, and the dull ache in his lower back muscles and shoulders, Joel is content; satisfied. He knows that you and Logan are at home, anticipating his arrival. Joel can’t help but wonder what compromising situation he’ll find you and the Wolverine in today.

Just last week he stumbled upon quite the erotic scene, finding you sprawled out on the kitchen table beneath the sheer mass of Logan and his claws leaving long, jagged marks in the once pristine furnished wood. It was Joel’s favorite table, one of his first furnished pieces that he carved by hand. Logan apologized profusely—on his knees for the extensive damage he caused.

Today, however, the house was quiet—sans the familiar comforting crackles emitting from the fireplace in the living room.

There’s no sign of you, or Logan, till Joel’s good ear picks up on the distinct rumble of a low grunt, followed by a soft giggle coming from upstairs.

He let out a disgruntled sound from the back of his throat as he bent down to unlace his boots and immediately felt that familiar strain in his lower back from being on patrol all day.

“Gettin’ too fuckin’ old for this shit.” He muttered under his breath, kicking his boots to the side of the worn down welcome mat and hung the strap of his rifle along the hook in the wall.

His good ear perks up at the sound of your soft, desperate, little moans coming from up the stairs. He lets out a huff, subtly glancing down at the noticeable strain in his stiff, worn down jeans. There’s an endearing patch of mix-matched fabric stitched lovingly right along the thigh where a large, and obvious rip used to exist.

He shakes his head, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth and looks towards the top of the staircase with an amused grin. His favorite spot, the leather recliner near the fireplace is calling his name, beckoning him to sit down and rest his aching muscles, but his hardening cock has a mind of its own, and he misses his two lovers that he fondly calls home.

As he ascends up the stairs, he discovers articles of yours and Logan’s clothing scattered about, and he bends down, looping one of his fingers through the delicate hem of your discarded panties.

He slowly brings them up to his face, inspecting them with a twitch of his lips and the scent of your arousal permeating in the air. He inhales deeply, burying the bridge of his nose against the damp patch of fabric with a content sigh.

He stuffs your panties into the back pocket of his jeans and gathers up the rest of yours and Logan’s clothing on his way up. “Fuckin’ animals.” He chuckles to himself and makes a pit stop to the laundry basket in the hallway, first.

That’s when a new scent invades his senses; lavender.

His footsteps are undetected by either you and Logan, as you’re far too consumed with one another to hear Joel’s arrival.

You were surprised to hear that Logan was eager to take your offer up on having a relaxing afternoon soak in the tub, but you came to learn that the Wolverine did in fact enjoy a bit of pampering every now and then.

It started off innocent, with you giving Logan a well deserved scalp massage, lathering his hair in homemade lavender shampoo, but then he kissed you—and well, you couldn’t say no, not when he was whispering absolute filth between heated kisses, and guiding your hips to straddle his own. He didn’t give two fucks that you warned him about the risks of getting soap in his eyes, not when you were nestled so warmly around his aching cock.

“Don’t stop—please.” Joel hears the desperation in Logan’s throaty voice, and his jeans grow even tighter as he quietly pushes open the ajar bathroom door to find you and the Wolverine tangled together in the sudsy water surrounded by the soft glow of flickering candles.

And despite the way that his skin prickles with jealousy when he finds you nestled in the Wolverine’s lap, his arms wound around your waist, holding you flush, strong hands gripping the soft swell of your ass, blunt fingernails latching on like hooks. He doesn’t want his presence to be known, not yet, not while he can watch the way your breath mingles, hitches with want, and the languid roll of your hips—a constant rhythm being met with the sheer force of the Wolverine’s desperate thrusts causing ripples along the surface of the tub.

He crosses his arms against his chest, resting his exhausted back against the wall, watching the hidden desperation in a chaste kiss between you and Logan. He can feel your body buzzing with need—and the Wolverine can sense it, too.

“Thas’ it, sweet girl. Doin’ so good for me.” Logan purrs against your lips, a smirk appearing when he feels your nails digging into shoulder blades. His eyes roll back from the sensation of pain blurring into intoxicating pleasure. “Takin’ my cock so well, jus’ like you always do.”

Joel pushes himself off from the wall, padding over to the toilet and quietly flips the seat up before he undoes the buckle on his belt, followed by the metallic scritch of the zipper being yanked down.

The movement in the tub finally stills, and Logan briefly detaches his lips from yours, swollen with your kisses and a translucent thread of saliva hangs between you and him.

“That you, bub?” He rasps.

“Don’t stop on my account, Logan. Don’t wanna leave our girl hangin’, do we?” Joel answers back with a grin. “By the way, it reeks like a Bath and Body Works threw up in here.”

The other man laughs, loosening his grip around you slightly when you begin to pepper little kisses and nips at the base of his throat. “We would have waited for you, baby. But Logan has a way with his words.”

“His words, huh?” Joel teases and eases his cock out from its confines so he can finally piss. “Sure it was his words, and not his cock buried inside of you that did it?”

“He’s very persuasive.”

“Don’t I know it.” He grunts in reply.

“It was her magic hands that did it. You ever gotten a scalp massage from this one? I’m sure you have—but christ, she had me practically purring in her lap.”

“Mhm.” Joel hums and re-zips his jeans, closes the lid to the toilet seat and then flushes. “She does have magic fingers, that’s for damn sure.”

“Why don’t you join us, baby? The water is still warm.” You suggest with a coy smile, slipping out of Logan’s loose grasp so you can rest your elbows along the side of the tub.

“Mmm…but you know I hate baths, darlin.’”

“He does hate baths.” You said with a sigh, leaning back against Logan’s strong chest when his arms wrap around you once more, and his chin comes to rest along your shoulder.

“‘Sides, my back is fuckin’ killin’ me after patrol. Think im jus’ gonna crash out downstairs for a bit.” He reassures you both, pivoting on his heel to leave.

You and Logan share a knowing look and he brushes his lips against the shell of your ear, hot breath fanning the sensitive skin.

“Work too hard out there, Miller. Let us take care of you.” His voice rumbles against your ear as you lean further into him.

Joel’s lips twitch upwards as if he’s going to grin. “I see what you two shit stirrers are doin’, and it ain’t gonna work on me.” He softly scoffs, but his words don’t mirror his actions, and he feels that invisible, magnetic pull guiding him towards the tub.

“How about a kiss instead, baby? We’ve missed you.” You cooed.

“Alright.” He concedes, “one kiss for each of ya, and then I’m outta here.” He insists, but even he knows he can’t resist you or Logan in the end.

“One kiss, bub.” Logan rasps, and is already tilting his head upwards when Joel leans down, resting his hands along the side of the tub. Their lips brush just as you grab Joel’s hand and Logan reaches for the hem of his shirt. Together, you manage to pull Joel into the tub, sending watering sloshing over the rim and creating an even bigger puddle than before.

Joel’s not even the least bit angry, even though his scowl says otherwise. He laughs, deeply, right from his belly when he feels two pairs of lips along the side of his face.

“‘Coulda let me take my clothes off first.” He chuckles, turning his head to the side so that he can meet your lips, first.

“You wouldn’t have gotten in otherwise, bub.” Logan says teasingly, reaching for his belt under the water and undoes it swiftly.

“Touché, Howlett. Touché.” Joel sighs into your mouth, jaw going slack under the Wolverines touch when he pulls his cock free, finally.

The candles surrounding the tub have almost completely melted down by the time that you, Joel, and Logan pull yourselves out of the now lukewarm water.

The ache in Joel’s back is duller, now, and he can’t really complain much, especially after you and Logan took care of him devotedly. He still ends up lounged out on his favorite recliner, fireside with his clothes drying. A glass of whiskey sits perched in his palm as he relaxes, listening to the soft chatter between you and Logan in the kitchen.

A hidden smile appears over the rim of his glass, and he lets out a content sigh, warmth flooding his heart, all the way down to the tips of his toes.

So, this is what it feels like.

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