#ghosts that broke my heart before i met you

[razorsadness]

still, i sometimes miss new relationship energy. especially those first flutters of a new crush, the flirtations, the time before you’ve kissed or slept together, wondering: will we? or even knowing that you will, but it hasn’t happened yet, & all the sexy anticipation of it.

but what i miss even more than that is specific people. one night stands, long-ago crushes, people i dated but only briefly, people who were in my life for a long time but who i had on-again off-again relationships with.

[from a journal entry, 9/14/21]

[crashandlivewrites]

Cherry Pie

A wondering happy birthday to my sweet Cherry @soapsgf who wanted some soft and sweet romantic smut with big dicked Simon. This one's for you, darling <33

Pairing: Simon Riley x fem!reader (Cherry)

Summary: It's been a while since you've been intimate with a partner, and Simon takes good care of you.

CW: MDNI 18+ content, NSFW, cunnilingus, fingering, consent checks, first time between partners, big dick Simon, unprotected piv, creampie

Word Count: 4.2k :))))

Simon was your first partner after a long, long stint of failed dates. You’d met him by chance, out one night with a group of friends when you’d bumped into a solid mass of muscle walking out of a bar. He’d caught you, set you right on your feet with a few words of being careful of your surroundings before seemingly melting into the shadows, despite his size. 

The next morning, you’d stopped by a local cafe. The barista called your name and you grabbed your drink, spinning around quickly only to have a heavy set of hands grip you tightly. Panicking for a moment, you looked up, ready to try and fight off your attacker, when you took in the strangely familiar face. 

“You’re… you…”

“That’s twice within twelve hours, sweetheart. Starting to think you’re making a habit of this.” His voice was accented, deep, and gravelly, making your hair stand on end. 

“I didn’t meant to— I’m sorry—” 

“It’s fine, doll. You couldn’t take me out even if you tried.” He huffed out a chortle at that and you felt your face shift into an expression of mild amusement. Then, with a surge of confidence you weren’t even aware you possessed, you met the heavy gaze of his dark eyes. 

“No, but I can give you my number, and then maybe you can take me out instead.” 

The man blinked, the smile still ghosting on his cheeks as he tilted his head, watching you. Suddenly, it felt like he was scrutinising every aspect of your appearance and you ducked your head, feeling your face heat. 

“Ah forget it, sorry, I just—” You’d moved to exit the cafe, but a firm arm wrapped around your waist. 

“I’ll take you up on that offer, if it’s still on the table.” Blinking in surprise, you looked up at him. One corner of his lips was twitched up into a smirk, his brow slightly raised and you couldn’t help but feel your lips pull into a grin as you nodded. 

“Name’s Simon.” He told you as you quickly scribbled your number on a piece of paper. As you handed it to him, he opened in and frowned slightly. “No name?” 

“Take me on that date, Simon, and you might be lucky enough to get it.” The smile that broke out on his face made your stomach flip, and somehow you knew this was the start of something. 

•

Several months down, you and Simon had settled into a steady routine. Whenever he was back from deployment, he slotted himself neatly into your life, as if he hadn’t missed a beat. It was refreshing, to have someone like him, someone who was willing to work through things, instead of ignoring them. 

Including sex. 

You’d first breached the topic with him a few months in. He’d come back from deployment and there was something about him in his gear, still sweaty and dirty from his time out. Simon had stood there, leaning against your doorframe as you’d opened the door and you felt your heart rate pick up. 

The look in your eyes had clearly sparked something in him, and he surged inside, kicking the door closed and pressing his mouth to yours. He steered you towards the couch pressing you against the back of it before one of his hands ran up the back of your leg roughly, hitching it around his waist. 

In a moment of panic, realising where this was going, you broke the kiss, a firm hand placed in the centre of his chest. Though his brows furrowed, he acknowledged the look on your eyes, and slowly let you down. Fear bubbled inside you at the thought of possibly upsetting him, but he placed a reassuring hand on your cheek. 

“It’s alright, doll. Just talk to me.”

“It’s… been a while.” 

“We don’t have to do anything,” He said gently, thumb stroking your cheekbone. “Not until you’re ready.” 

“But you want it—” A thumb pressed against your lips, stopping your words before you could finish your sentence.

“It doesn’t matter what I want, lovie. If you’re not feeling it, or you’re not ready, I’m not going to force it.”

Swallowing thickly, you looked up into his earnest eyes and realised that, yes, he’s different from the rest. 

“I still want to kiss you, though.” Your words were softly spoken, but were met with a chuckle as Simon tilted your head back, cupping your head. 

“Kissing I can definitely do for you.” 

•

The time came a month or so later. Simon had messaged in the early afternoon, telling you to get all dolled up and pretty because he was going to take you out for the evening. He turned up at your doorstep, dressed in cleanly pressed black pants with a black button-down shirt he’d rolled up to expose his thick forearms. You couldn’t help but let your mouth drop open slightly as he leaned against your bedroom door, watching you as you fiddled with your hair. 

Turning around, you got a better look at him, allowing your eyes to unabashedly trace over his broad, thick body. Chuckling, Simon stepped forward, making his way over to you. As he stood in front of you, the soothing scent of cologne wafted over towards you. Unable to stop the sound, you let out a breathy whine and he smirked.

“See something you like, doll?” His hands slid up and down your sides before leaning down to press a kiss against your cheek. “Come on, we’ll be late.” 

He’d made you feel spoiled, treating you to an exquisite dinner at some ridiculously fancy place. You were unable to stop your eyes flitting over to him and admiring just how damn attractive he was as the pair of you sat in the low ambient lighting of the restaurant. Finally as you were headed back home, you were struck with the idea that maybe, just maybe, you felt ready. Simon had always made you feel safe, why should this be any different?

When you arrived home, Simon knelt down, lifting one of your legs up gently to remove your shoes. Placing a soft kiss to your knee, he gently lowered it back down with a hand on the back of your calf. He repeated the process on the other leg before pushing himself up to press a kiss to your cheek. He made a move to walk away, but your hand on his wrist stopped him. 

Though you didn’t talk right away, Simon stood there patiently, waiting for you to find the words.

“Simon...” You murmured trailing off as the words evaded you, choosing to flutter your lashes up at him instead. He looked at you, eyes darkened, tilting his head slightly as he calculated his next words

“What’s on your mind, doll?” 

“I want you.” The words were soft, but firm. Simon, the tease that he was, lifted a brow in mock surprise. 

“You want me to do what?” He smirked, staring down at you expectantly. The grip you had on his wrist tightened. 

“I’m ready. And I want— no— need you to fuck me, Simon.” You could see the change in him, as if a switch had flicked over in his mind.  

“Are you sure?” His voice was rough, layered thickly with desire, but still present enough to look deep into your eyes. “Need to hear those words again, pretty girl.” 

“Yes, Simon,” You assured him, chest rising and falling as you breathed heavily, “I want you.” 

The words broke his resolve and he dove in to seal his lips against yours, moaning softly at the contact. He’d kissed you countless times before, but even you could feel the difference in this one. It was intense and heated, his hands sliding up and down your back and squeezing at your body before he quickly pulled back, panting. 

“Anything that’s too much— too quick— too rough, you tell me, promise?” The gruffness made your hair stand on end, and you shivered in his arms.

“I promise, Si.” Groaning, he pressed his face into the crook of your neck, one large hand cupping the back of your head as he nipped along the column of your throat. 

“I’m gonna make you feel so good lovie, I promise.” Letting out a soft whine, you ran your hands down his chest, squeezing the soft flesh around his waist as you pulled him closer to you, pressing your hips forward. Simon’s breath hitched before he let out a growl. 

“Bedroom. Now.” 

The pair of you hurriedly made your way to the bedroom, mouths never leaving each other’s as you finally felt the doorknob and pushed it open. Having barely stepped into your room, he broke the kiss, spinning you around so he could tug down the zipper of your dress. Moaning softly, he allowed his hands to caress your bare skin as he mouthed up your neck once more. The dress fell to the floor, leaving you almost bare compared to his mostly clothed body. 

He spun you around and, with frightening ease, Simon lifted you up, hooking your legs around his waist as he strode quickly over to the bed. Placing you down gently, he pushed you back so you hit the pillows. Nudging your legs apart with his thighs, he ran his hands over your legs, cupped your ass before sliding up your back. 

“So fucking pretty for me.” He whispered, eyes heady as they stared down at you, hair fanning over the pillow as your chest rose and fell rapidly. Unable to hold himself back, Simon threaded a hand through your hair, gently pinning you to the bed as he lowered his mouth to your neck once more.

Your hands moved to the buttons of his shirt, tugging them open so you could get your hands on the glorious expanse of his chest. His skin was rough, littered with lumps from old cuts and scars, and you wanted to map every bit of it. He seemed to be doing the same to you. His large, calloused hands tracing up and down your body, worshipping every inch of skin as his mouth kissed down your chest and stomach. 

“Lemme taste that pretty pussy of yours.”

Pulling up, he lifted your hips and tugged your underwear off, before pausing, eyes drawn down to the drenched fabric. Running a thumb over it, you watched as his face pulled into a smirk before he tucked the panties into the pocket of his slacks. 

“Still feeling alright, lovie?” A brow was raised in question as he looked at you, fingers tapping on your hip as he waited for a response. 

“Yeah. Please.” Reaching for his hands, you squeezed them gently, causing him to let out a chuckle. 

“Good girl.”

Settling down between your legs, he pushed them apart before dragging his tongue up your wet slit and moaning as he did so. It was wet, messy, and sloppy, but god it felt good to have someone tonguing your pussy like they knew how to. 

Drawing your lip between your teeth, you cut off a moan that was threatening to break free when Simon pulled away to stare up at you. 

“None of that now, doll. Let me hear you. All of you.” He grunted, sealing his mouth back over your cunt with determination. As he moaned, the vibrations ran through you, making you shiver and gasp. Hearing the sound of your breath hitching, he dug his fingers into your hips, pulling you harder against his mouth. That action made a moan break from you, hands threading through the short, blonde hair as he ravished you. 

It wasn’t long before you felt the familiar, toe-curling feeling you’d only been able to give yourself and your breathing change, morphing into soft pants and pleas as your fingers tightened in his hair. Instead of changing his rhythm like you’d had other partners do, Simon kept the same, allowing you to press and roll your hips over his mouth and you needed to find the right spot. 

When you did, your whole body twitched as you let out a moan, arching your back as your legs shook. Simon practically growled into your cunt, eyes flashing open to stare up at you, taking in every slight reaction you gave him. Looking down, you stared into his eyes, dark and hungry which caused your stomach to flip. 

Brows drawing together, your body shivered and you reached down to grip one of his hands as your mouth dropped open as you felt your orgasm wash over you with a cry of his name. Simon grunted, letting out a moan of his own and held you tight to his mouth as you climaxed. 

Breathing heavily, you groaned softly, pushing at his head, but he refused to move, mouth moving down so the ridge of his nose pressed against your clit as he tongued your cunt. He pressed a thumb to the hood of your clit, flicking over it as his other hand kept tight hold of your leg, pressing his tongue deep into you. 

Groaning at your taste, he didn’t stop until he felt your walls shaking around his tongue and your hands tugged more viciously at his hair as you moaned loudly. Managing to get your foot into his shoulder, you shoved him back, looking down to see his smug grin, chin wet and shining with your slick. 

“Still good, lovie?” Though his face was feral, his voice was soft and questioning. Choking out a laugh, you clapped a hand over your eyes. 

“Yeah… just… fuck.” He hummed in approval, pushing himself up to slide up next to you, his hand tracing lightly up your thigh. 

“Need a break?” The smug grin was back as he looked down at you, earning him a slap to the chest. 

“No, but I can help you—” Before you could even begin to reach down for his trousers, he gripped your hand and pinned it above your head. 

“No need, pretty girl. This is about you.” 

“But you—” He pressed his mouth to yours, kissing you deeply as you tasted yourself on his lips. Tracing a hand over your chin, he pulled away, looking down at you.

“This is about you.” He repeated, with more sincerity. “For you, at your pace. Do you want to keep going?” 

“Yes!” The reply was quick your mouth, barely before he’d even finished the question. A wolfish grin spread over his face and his hand gripped your hip. 

“Good fucking girl.” He groaned, hand moving to trail his fingers between your legs. Circling your clit slowly, he breathed soft words of praise into your ear as you whined for him, rolling your hips to meet his rough digits. 

“Look at you. So soft for me. So pliant. You’ve been desperate for it, haven’t you? Don’t worry, doll, I’m gonna make it so good for you.”

As if it were the easiest thing for him, he brought you closer to another orgasm. You could feel the heat coiling in your gut as he kept rubbing over the sensitive bud, pinning your legs apart with his. 

“Don’t hide from me, pretty girl. Let me see everything. Wanna know how good I’m making you feel, how wet you are for me.” 

“Simon…” Your back arched, hand reaching out to grip his body for support. He drew you into his chest, fingers unrelenting between your legs as he held you against the firmness of his chest, covered by a soft layer of fat. Tipping your head back on his shoulder, you gasped out another moan as you came yet again. 

“Fuck yes. My good girl. Look so pretty when you come for me like that. Gonna finger you now, yeah? Stretch that tight cunt out nice for me.”

Mewling in his arms, you turned your head, shaking it slightly. 

“Cock, Simon. Want your cock.”

“I know you do, greedy girl. But patience for me, yeah?” 

“No!” Whining, you pressed your hips back against his. Letting out a huff, Simon moved quickly. Pushing you down onto the bed, he nestled himself between your legs, dress shirt crumpled as your eyes trained down to the swelling bulge in his pants. Smirking, he raised a brow. 

“Yeah, pretty girl. That’s why. Gimme your hand.” Grabbing your wrist, he pulled it down so your palm was pressed against his crotch and he thrust his hips forward. Squeezing your hand around him, you took in the full weight and thickness of his cock, and swallowed thickly. 

“Fuck you’re big.” You blinked your eyes up to him, and the corner of his lips twitched into a wider smile. 

“Exactly, my pretty doll. Need to make sure you’re all nice and lax for me. Need to get that pretty cunt all soaked and messy before you even think about getting my cock.”

Releasing your wrist, he turned his attention back to your pussy, where one of his thick fingers circled your entrance, collecting your slick. Smirking darkly, he leaned down and spat directly on your cunt, making you jerk and moan at the feeling. Spreading his saliva, he plunged his finger into you, and the pair of you moaned in sync. 

He was a vision between your legs. Still mostly clothed, but looked debauched with his shirt pulled open and the sleeves rolled up. The black ink on his tattooed forearm rippled as he thrust his fingers into you. Grunting, his jaw clenched as his eyes were trained on your pussy, watching the wetness soak his finger. 

“Look at you, so fucking eager for it. Can feel you clenching around me. Think you can fit another finger?” Without much preamble, he slid in a second finger with a low breath. “Good girl. Good fucking girl. God, you feel so good. Can’t wait to feel this tight little pussy round my dick.” 

Squirming underneath him, you clung to the sheets, keeping your legs spread for him as your eyes rolled back into your head in pleasure. 

“Fuck, Simon… oh my god.” The erotic, slick sound of his fingers entering your cunt repeatedly filled your ears. Panting, you reached out a hand and gripped his shirt. 

“No no no, not done yet. You’re getting another in you. Come on, pretty thing. You can do it, you can do it, I know you can. Be good for me, yeah?” 

You couldn’t resist. Between the sound of his voice, the way he pinned you so easily against him, the way his fingers curled inside of you… 

A third finger pressed at your entrance and you sucked in a breath, eyes flashing open as you stared into his eyes. The fist you had clenched in his shirt tightened, pulling him down as you grit your teeth. Simon lowered his head, pressing his forehead against yours as the third finger slowly pressed in. 

A guttural moan broke from your throat at the burn of the stretch, but also from the orgasm that he pulled out of you. Swearing, Simon grunted, his fingers plunging into you a little faster as he took advantage of your climax. 

“Good girl. Fuck, look at you. Shit, the sounds you’re making…” His voice cracked as he moaned, breathing turning shaky as you writhed in his arms, pussy pulsing around his fingers. 

With a low growl, Simon pulled his fingers out of you with a wet sound as he yanked his belt off with one hand and pushed his pants down. Gathering yourself enough, you pushed yourself up onto your elbows to watch him. As his cock sprang out from his underwear, you let out a shocked gasp, eyes widening as you took in his cock. 

It was long and thick, with a ruddy head. His balls hung heavy, making you shift your legs wider in anticipation. The action wasn’t missed on Simon, and he grinned hungrily. Spitting on his hand, he used the combination of your slick and his saliva to pump his cock as he ripped at his shirt, pulling it open so you could admire his soft belly. 

The main that left your lips was whiny and pathetic as you stared between his gorgeous body and that glorious cock of his. 

“Simon please… fuck please don’t tease me.” 

“Believe me, doll. Couldn’t tease you right now even if I wanted to. Need to feel your pretty pussy wrapped around me now.” 

Shuffling forward onto the bed, he settled between your legs, tapping the flushed head of his cock on your sensitive clit, making you jerk. 

“You sure you want it, sweetheart? Last chance to back out before I’m filling your tight little cunt.” With your chest heaving, you looked up at him through your lashes. 

“Fuck me, Simon Riley. And don’t you dare pull out.” 

The look on his face turned feral as he hauled you closer, lining his cock up with your wet entrance before pressing in. Your mouth parted wide, but no sound came out as the burning stretch of his cock overtook your senses. Simon let out choked off grunts, fingers clutching into the sheets as he slowly pressed into you. 

Shallowly thrusting, he sunk deeper and his hand moved to cup the top of your head, rubbing affectionately before he finally managed to sink in all the way with a low groan. 

“I know it’s big, I know. Doing so well for me, takin’ it so nicely.” Resting his forehead against yours, Simon inhaled deeply before opening his eyes, staring down at your face. His expression softened as he reached down to wipe a stray tear with his thumb, caressing your cheekbone in the process

“Simon!” You mewled, rocking your hips as your walls clenched, the initial stretch of his cock slowly fading and the need for more slowly rose in you. However, before you could get a rhythm going, a firm hand pressed onto your hip, halting all movement and you blinked your eyes open. 

Above you, Simon’s eyes were squeezed shut with his brows pinched together. His breath was coming out in short pants as sweat beaded on his brow. Frowning, you went to push yourself up to talk to him, but the movement made him release a choked off moan and both of his hands clamped down on your hips, effectively pinning you to him. 

“Don’t— fuck— don’t fucking move.” His voice was rough, on edge as his fingertips dug into the soft flesh surrounding your hips. “Jesus fuck, you’re gripping me tight. Don’t— don’t think I’m gonna last.” 

Reaching out, you gripped his strong bicep and squeezed lightly. 

“It’s okay. Just fuck me Simon please!” 

He didn’t need any further prompting. Wrapping your legs around his waist, Simon began to shift his hips forward, dragging his cock in and out of you slowly. 

“I know, princess, I know.” His voice was hoarse as he ground himself deep into you, the rough hairs on the base of his cock brushing pleasurably against your clit as he circled his hips.

“My pretty girl,” His chest rumbled as he spoke, almost whispering the words to you, “Takin’ my cock so well. Feels so good, lovie. So tight around me.” 

Moaning your assent for him to continue and dragging your nails down his chest, nails that he’d paid for, he finally snapped. Lifting your hips, he angled you how he wanted, throwing one of your legs over his shoulders as he began to fuck into you. It felt like the wind was being punched out of your body with every thrust, but you couldn’t stop yourself crying out with every stretch of his cock. 

“Simon… god fuck! Please, need it.” 

“Fuck, baby I know. I know you do. Feel so fucking good. So fucking tight and wet around me.” Groaning, he pushed forward, placing a hand next to your head as he folded your body and thrust into you hard. You wrapped your hand around his wrist, using it to anchor yourself as you moved your hips to meet every single one of his thrusts, moaning like you were being paid for it. 

“Pretty girl… so pretty on my cock… feels like fucking heaven.” He grunted, panting as he kept his eyes fixed to your face, watching every subtle shift of pleasure that etched itself onto your expression. 

“Need to fill you. Make you mine.” His voice was becoming ragged and airy, signalling how close he was to his release. 

“I am yours, Simon. Only yours.” Whispering into his ear, you clenched your walls around his cock, making the pace of his thrusts stutter as you felt your final orgasm of the evening get pulled from your lax body, making you gasp breathlessly. 

“Oh shit.” Simon moaned, voice cracking as your walls fluttered around him. He grunted, hand gripping onto your hip as he slammed his cock deep into you once, twice before you felt his cock kick inside of you, and he came, his warmth filling you. Lowering his head, he rested it into the crook of your neck as his warm breath fanned over your skin. 

It took several minutes before either of you were coherent again. Simon was first, slowly pulling out of you, rolling you over so he could nestle behind you, holding you against his body. 

“My good girl. My sweet little cherry.” Soft kisses trailed down the back of your neck as he hummed softly, contentedly, his heart beating steadily against you. This was perfect, you thought, and you couldn’t be happier.

Happy Birthday to you xx

[evermore-fashion]

Did I make a mistake?

As you're all well aware of I said goodbye to my blogs and Tumblr thinking my decision was final. However after reading all your wonderful messages I started to have doubts about my decision. So for the last few weeks I've been trying to pinpoint why I thought I had fallen out of love with high end fashion as well as Tumblr itself and the answer has been in front of my face for the best part of four years. A broken down friendship that has been plaguing my mental health… until recently and I'm going to finally explain why. I had a best friend for the best part of 15 years that went downhill both slowly and unexpectedly. We met on a forum back in 2005 and hit it off instantly. We then met up and went on various holidays, attended concerts together, did mini weekend breaks away and got to know each other's families really well. More importantly they were the only person in my life who knew about this blog and shared my love for high end fashion. Like most friendships though it had its ups and downs but no matter what we always gravitated back towards one another, until March 2020. A week or so before COVID and lockdown took hold of our lives they told me they had met someone. I was genuinely happy for them, except for the fact they had let slip that I was the last person to know. This broke my heart and their trust as they continued to let slip more details that indicated that I was being pushed out in favour of a new crowd (aka university friends who they had told me they disliked a few months beforehand) alongside their new partner. They stayed with their partner on and off throughout COVID and I was either pushed out the door or let back in depending on their relationship status. The relationship came to an end for good towards the end of 2022 and as always I was let back into their life with plans for 2023 being made. However I held back knowing the hurt it would cause me if things suddenly changed again. This was also my breaking point with them as I wanted to protect my heart from anymore hurt, and I believe this is where my love for creativity began to faulter. Whilst I found my love for gaming I felt this mental block around Evermore-Fashion and Evermore-Grimoire which I thought was down to my passions changing. I was clearly wrong. The friendship was up and down for another six months, until last summer. They had got back in contact with me despite the fact they had started acting cold towards me which manifested in a crap Christmas and Birthday. Yet I was still willing to hear their side of the story, but it never came as they ghosted me and I haven't spoken to them since which hasn't been fun to deal with both mentally and emotionally. Although I now fully believe this is what was killing my spirit and everything I had loved for so long. Anyway fast forward to January 2024, I've said goodbye to my blogs and Tumblr when lo and behold I come across a social media post that changed everything. The ex friend had written something personal that contradicted everything they had told me (over their relationship break up) which not only angered me but it lit a fire under my butt to stop stewing in the "what ifs?" as well as holding on to a small bit of hope that they'd finally apologise for treating me like a piece of shit on the back of their shoe for so long. Not only that but I started to miss why I enjoyed being online in the first place. I checked out Vogue to see what was occurring during Paris Fashion Week and I yearned to share the Spring 2024 Couture collections on Tumblr (even though I still think it's still a toxic cesspit). Yes I could easily start this up on Wordpress or Instagram but let's face it, Tumblr is still the easiest place to start blogging creatively. So here I am. The fog surrounding my love for fashion has lifted alongside the mental and emotional baggage I've been holding on to for far too long. There's just one thing I'm still wondering though… do you guys forgive me (as I feel like I've messed you all around ) and is it okay to come back? 🥹

[dilf-docs]

X Si Volvemos

ex older bf!logan x younger fem!reader

summary: there are many things you and logan disagree in; but not when it comes to things in bed.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (phew), smut, ex!logan, exes to ????, p in v, creampie, reader's in her early to middle twenties so her frontal lobe hasn't developed yet; don't expect any reasonable thinking on her side, logan is on his middle to late 40s, angst (duh), this happens in an AU where mutants don't exist bc i don't wanna complicate myself with timelines lol hence time isn't really important but it's contemporary, the vibes i bring to the function are more sad than horny and i'm sorry, toxic too! may build a series around it?

word count: 1,925 words

side note: the incredible @bpmiranda's got me with a very bad case of ex!logan fever :( plus after listening to karol G's album mañana será bonito and seeing i may or may not be obssesed with romeo santos, i got the song in the title on loop: as you can see, it's all very fitting ++ don't forget to check out her stories, they're so good istg!!!!

You shouldn't call.

"Logan" you speak. His name burns in the tip of your tongue, like a secret you're not supposed to tell.

He shouldn't answer.

It's quiet at first on the other line, until a rough voice says I'm here, appearing to be distant, but who is he trying to fool? As soon as he saw the number pop on the screen, his fingers moved with a learned urgency.

You shouldn't keep calling.

"I need you" three words to cover those you actually mean; hanging in the spaces between the silence.

I miss you. I love you.

Your hear a heavy sigh on the other end.

He shouldn't keep answering.

"Princess..." Logan pleads, "don't do this"

You know better than that, he wants to say, but keeps his mouth shut. Just to hear your voice, just to-

"Please, Lo" you whine out. Logan grabs his jeans with force, the fabric strained under his white-knuckled grip. It takes him a lot not to run to you right there and now.

"Don't" but his voice cracks as much as his resistance.

"I've got the house" you whisper the prayer; a routine so sacred none of you seem to break it, "just for us"

"Y/n" even saying your name is painful; like the most addicting and damaging drug to ever exist, "stop"

Logan loved your stubborn heart, but there are times where he wishes you weren't like this.

"I'm sorry" and then he hangs up.

I'm sorry for not being who you needed. I'm sorry I pushed you away. I'm sorry I keep on coming back after I said I would leave you alone. I'm sorry I can't keep my promises.

You feel it around your neck―bruises in the vocals your voice has failed to scream; it chokes you with rage.

"Are you stupid?" you ask yourself in the mirror.

What are you doing? Why are you doing this to yourself? Do you love him more than you love you?

You dial again, but this time, it's a girl who picks up.

"Yeah?"

"Hi. Wanna go out?"

Logan feels so out of place, but this used to be your favorite bar, and he's desperate for a drink.

Listening to your voice has always made him weak, but after you broke up, it drives him crazy.

He empties another glass, feeling pathetic. This is how bad it's gotten: you've got him scouring the places you used to go, chasing your ghost, trying to get a glimpse of your silhouette or a whiff of the phantom of your scent, the lavender haunting him; getting under his skin.

A song beggins playing, and it's the same vinyl set from two years ago. The night he met you: a pretty young thing so out of place in an old bar like that, playing hard to get, only to end the night moaning over him, fogging his car's windows, saying his name in a way no one else had before. He still remembers the way your legs trembled but he held you, beads of sweat confusing themselves with the glitter on your skin. Logan doesn't know what that is, but he's marveled, so in awe of you, everything of you: young, new, exciting.

But every new thing wears out, and the gap he swore wouldn't matter came crashing in years that built a distance between him and you.

So he did what he did best: ruin it. Deny the feelings bubbling inside; let them consume his reasoning, pushing you like he had done with everyone who cared about him before.

When he broke your heart, he took a part with him. So you keep coming back, looking for it; trying to piece yourself together. And he let's you: because God knows you have a part of himself too.

He's so drunk he probably imagines the hint of lavender in the whiskey tinted air. He's so desperate to see you again, he's seeing your face among the crowd. He's definitely gone insane: hearing that laugh he misses every day.

"Y/n..."

The music pauses: all you can hear is your name being said in that way like it belongs to him.

"...Logan"

He walks in autopilot over to the table you and a group of girls are sitting. They're all beautiful―beautiful people attract beautiful people, but he's only got eyes for you.

"What are you doing here?"

He raises a glass he didn't know he was carrying, "having a drink".

Your lips purse, and Logan doesn't know if it's because you're laughing at him or sad.

"I see" but you divert your gaze, looking at your outfit's neck. The outfit you chose: a black dress that pushes your tits on top. They are on display, and Logan feels played by you―his eyes trained on the strained fabric, tongue watering like it did when he would lick your sensitive nipples.

"I see too" he says in automatic, and one of your friends laughs. He looks away, thanking the low lights, or you'd see the red embarrassment on his face.

You stand up and walk over to him, and your friends sense it's time to leave the two of you alone.

"Why did you hang up?" you throw the question so casually; the nerve you have.

"What do you mean?" it's the only thing that comes to his mind. Very stupid, indeed.

You scoff, "delete my number, then"

"You keep on calling" he bites back.

"And you keep answering"

You never shut up. He hates that.

"I may have to stop"

You get closer, way too closer. So much, your hot breathe clouds his judgment.

"Try to" you dare.

And he tries, he really tries. But not today.

Not today when he takes you home, finally looking complete with you in it again. You had moved out after your last discussion, saying you'll never be back.

"You haven't changed a thing" you murmur in between kisses, and he can sense a bit of melodrama in his voice that makes him roll his eyes despite the dull ache on his chest.

He picks up your body swiftly, carrying you up to the bedroom.

"Why would I?" he asks, voice so low and small you almost miss it.

"Because you hate me" you avoid his eyes, even if your faces are too close, loosing all that corageous character of yours, "said you would get rid of it; of everything that reminded you of me"

But when he drops you softly on the matress, there's still that lamp you got him in the night table.

"I couldn't" he confesses.

I couldn't, he means, because I couldn't let you go.

But you both know it won't work out, something you knew right from the start: because toxic loves only fulfill basic needs. This isn't healthy, but he forgets it all as soon as you're moaning his name. Still, he promises himself he will say goodbye to you this time, even if it's inside of you.

"Shut up and kiss me, then" you're always pushing him around, making him do the things he desires to but doesn't want to do.

So he obliges, leaning in, the lavender so strong all over your sweet skin, poisoning his mouth on every kiss he leaves. He feels you squirm under him, goosebumps along your skin, prickling against his, so visible he can see and feel it even in the dim lit room.

"Take it" Logan doesn't look at you, but when he does, you feel him stare deep into your soul, "I know you want it"

He's sliding his dick inside you as soon as the sentence is over, the permission to take you and use you implicit. He robs a drawn-out groan out of you.

"So tight for me" he murmurs against your shoulder, sharp breaths and soft groans flooding your ears. His cock hits deep within you, hard thrust no one has ever been able to replicate, making you gasp for air, burying your face in the plush pillows now drenched in your sweat.

"You're so deep" you hiss, hot and overwhelmed, waves of pleasure hitting like water against cliffside rocks. "So big, Lo" you whine, dizzy at the way your pussy stretches for him.

"Just for you" he grunts out, and it's the truth. No matter how dark the room is or how many faces he avoids, he always looks into the eyes of the other women he fucks, his heart sinking when he can no longer pretend it's you, "fuck, squeeze a bit more".

Hearing his deep voice, rough when you fuck, always making you soak, coating his dick in your juices. You grip tight, as tight as the nails that hold onto his shoulders, making him moan at the pain.

"Like that, princess. Good girl" you moan at the praise, "I know you could take me, all of me"

He grunts and pants, holding you tighter as his cock pumps faster, in sync with your now closer to happening orgasm.

Before it, he slows down his thrusts, "where do you want me to cum, princess?"

He wants to, inside of you, but he can't do so, not when he promised he wouldn't ruin your life. But making you his, marking you as only his, makes his dick inside you twitch. Fuck, he's so balls deep inside you all he can think is filling you up silly.

"Inside me, Lo" like you read his thoughts, and it always amazes and scares him; how deep inside his mind you are. Never happened, not in his four decades of life. And that's part of the problem: he's closer to death than you are but it's only with you, young―blossoming with life, that he feels truly alive.

So how can he say no, when you plead and beg with those pretty doe eyes of yours? Who could imagine such a sweet thing to be so needy. He feels like you could ask for his heart, and he'd carve a hole in his body for you―bleeding out of love; dying with a smile.

"Such a greedy little thing, princess" he mocks, but his tone betrays him―dripping in adoration, "want me to fill you up all nice?"

A broken wail is what he takes as your answer, your mind in blank.

He finds himself letting go, way faster than he should; he just misses you and your needy dripping pussy that much. You can't hold back longer either, rush flowing through your veins, much more satisfying than the alcohol you had drank an hour ago.

Logan paints your insides with layers of his hot cum, mumbling a soft:

"Anything for my princess" he keeps going, panting as he's milked entirely dry, "anything you want, my girl"

Your vision is still spotty, mind fogged: you're sure that's the reason the hurt hasn't settled in your heart yet.

Then the silence comes, like it always does now.

"Y/n" you always love when he calls you by your name, but you hate the way he's saying it now. Like a goodbye.

"Don't-" you plead, begging he shuts up. But he pulls out, and says:

"It's for the best"

You don't want what's best. You want him.

"Can't believe you wore this dress" he traces the pattern of the tight clothes, damped in sweat, "you know it's my favorite. Why?"

You fail to supress a smile, even if it's tired and almost sad, "I knew you couldn't say no".

The truth is, you know many things: like how this is never going to stop until it's destroyed you both.

[barefoothighlander]

Hi luv! Can you please do some headcanons of ghost having a civilian wife who is an absolute RAY of sunshine, but he keeps the fact that he’s married a secret even from 141. And when they do find out they’re just like??? How??? She’s like so cute???

yes ugh, soft!ghost has my heart, he'd be such a cutie obsessed with his wife, I love this, also obsessed with gossipy Soap and Gaz, they'd be so invested in Ghost's life

warnings: none just fluff

You and Simon had been married 3 years, meeting 5 years ago while he was on leave back home and you were visiting family

You bumped into him on accident after losing all sense of direction on a back street.

He was intrigued because most people are frightened by his outward appearance, but you just smiled at him apologizing profusely.

He had awkwardly asked for your number and you gave it to him, going on a few dates before he fell madly in love with you. Completely enamoured with your smile and personality, always giggling and happy, a stark contrast to how he usually was.

You made him see things in a softer light, constantly dragging him to farmer’s markets and gardens, he followed your every whim, just happy to spend time with you.

He had proposed a year after the two of you became official, deciding he couldn’t go another day without being married to you.

A week after the proposal he had to deploy, it broke his heart to leave you but it made him even more eager to come back to you.

You knew most of what his job consisted of, he spared you the more gory parts as they always made you squeamish. The two of you making it a rule to keep your relationship secret, even from the rest of the team.

After you married he made a point of calling you every day from base just to check in, even though he’d see you right as soon as he got home.

On a particularly difficult mission, Simon had gotten hit in the head, his helmet knocked off and thrown to the dirt, a small piece of paper falling out.

Soap rushed over to him to make sure he was okay, noticing the small paper and grabbing at it as Simon reached to tear it from his hands. It was a photo of you, hair messy from the wind, skin glowing from the sun outside, bright smile plastered on your face as you smiled at your husband behind the camera.

“Lt have’ya a lass,” Soap asked, dodging Ghost’s attempts to retrieve the photo. “Tell me and I’ll give it back”. Sick of Soaps games Ghost submits. “She’s my wife”

Word spread quickly through the team on behalf of Soap’s loudmouth, all the men rushing to question Ghost about his secret relationship.

“No shot you married her, she’s so.. Cute? Smiley? And you’re so” Gaz is cut off by Simon’s dark stare.

All the men pestered Ghost about meeting you as he continued to decline, Price offering a simple ‘congratulations son’

One day you came to base to drop off some gear that Simon forgot at home, immediately greeted by Soap. “No way” he says, stepping towards you with open arms, pulling you into a hug. You hug him back confused. “Sorry, have we met” “No but I’ve heard a lot about you lass”

Simon rushes out of the base practically tearing Soap off you, giving him a warning with a quiet stare as you tug on his jacket, reaching on your toes to lift his mask slightly, planting a kiss to his lips and smiling before handing him the bag of gear which he takes before running a hand softly over your back.

“This is so strange” Soap responds taken aback by the sight of you two, one tall and brooding, face covered by a skull mask and the other a practical ray of sunshine, wearing a long flowing dress that leaves the top of your chest open to the breeze.

“I will say, you’re much prettier in person, the picture doesn’t do justice” “That’ll do” Simon warns as you giggle.

Against Simon’s wishes you invite the team over for a dinner, the weather was too nice to not eat outside as you got to meet each member, learning more about them than Simon would ever tell you.

“I’m sorry it just makes no sense,” Gaz says as you quirk an eyebrow in question. “I just mean you’re so nice, and the Lieutenant is so daunting” you laugh, “trust me, he’s not so scary with the mask off,” He bows his head in embarrassment as you break down his strict facade.

“So what do you two even do? Gasp does Lt cuddle?” Soap asks almost giggling, Simon swears that he could kill Johnny right there. You spare a glance at your husband before meekly nodding in Soap’s direction as he and Gaz are taken in a fit of laughter, you shrug your shoulders in a silent sorry to Simon.

The team made it a tradition to now show up at your home at least once a week to have dinner and some drinks, or just play some board games, intent on getting to know you better, almost punishing Ghost for keeping you a secret.

Cleaning up dinner Simon slides behind you wrapping you in a hug, a small show of affection he had been holding off on while the team was in view. “You’re telling them too much” As he kisses the base of your neck, you turn your body to him, “It’s nice to get to know them, I like seeing you around your friends” he scoffs as the term, then thinks about it shit maybe we are friends.

The time spent after at work Simon was constantly pestered about when he’d make Price and Soap uncles while Gaz had proclaimed himself as your future child’s fairy godmother.

Simon grew tired of the constant interrogation but felt like a weight was off his chest finally being able to be open about your relationship, though he’d never let the team hear the pet names you call him in private, nor would he let them in on the more tender moments of your time spent together.

The team always telling him that he was nicer when you visited or called him, always nagging to see pictures of the two of you (there were barely any, maybe one where he didn't have his mask on but it was kept secure in the house), and wanting to know when you'd visit.

Ghost was relieved that the team was so nice to you, he'd kill them for even saying a bad word, but he wasn't surprised given your ability to get along with almost everyone, always stopping to say good morning to people on the streets.

They teased him for days after you dropped him off some lunch one time, he had acted angry but he loved the domesticity of your lives, he loved seeing you in his office, a bright figure in such a beige world, he couldn't help the smile that crept on his face at the mere thought of you.

So the two of you welcomed the team into your lives, enjoying the company after living rather solitary. Spilling secrets with Soap and Gaz as Price and Simon looked on, Price with a small smirk on his face, happy that Simon finally found the love he deserved, while Simon sat unamused at Soap's jokes.

[cutiecusp]

I just had this idea come to me, so I had to scribble it down, so it's unedited, and written in 30 mins. It's non canon, has some inaccuracies, mention of war, death, mention of erasing memories. and a little angst. HEA.

What if reader was an angel, sent to protect John, but the payment for saving his life, and keeping her species safe was she had to erase his memories of her, every time?

And what if this time he says no.

He knew this was it.

His team were safely out, and he could hear the evac team coming for them, but John, as stubborn as he was, made a sacrifice to save the others.

The heavy wooden beam finally broke, the fire too hot to escape through, so he found his last cigar, lighting it from the flame blocking the door, took his tactical vest off, and sent a silent prayer to the universe.

Unbeknownst to him, you were already on your way.

The rooms temperature dipped, startling Price awake. The flames had gone, leaving behind burnt debris everywhere.

Completely unharmed, Price stood up, shaking his head in confusion.

"You are awake." A soft voice calls out, echoing around the room.

His gaze snaps to you, a fellow soldier in uniform, a black mask not unlike Ghosts covering the lower half of your face.

He grabs his pistol from the table.

"Who are you?" He asks, caution in his tone.

"I guess you could call me an angel." You shrug, your emotions masked by your face covering.

He scoffs, an eyebrow raised.

"There isn't such a thing."

You sigh, and unfurl your wings, a little singed along the bottom and the very top. Almost bat like, you stretch and sigh in relief.

His face drops, his eyes unable to look away.

"You..."

You smile, a little sadly, reaching for him.

"John. I need you to listen."

He stills. He knows that tone. That's the tone he uses to break it to the team that a mission is going sour.

"How do you know my name?" He asks, his brow furrowing in confusion.

Your hand reaches and gently brushes his forearm.

"John, this isn't the first time we've met." You admit, your tone serious.

"What do you mean?" He asks, stepping away from you, and reaching for his vest.

"John. I need you to understand, I did what I had to." You explain.

"I'm listening." Came the cool, even tone.

"I've saved you and your team multiple times over the years. Simon in the Alps? Johnny in London, even Gaz from a bloody rope."

His gaze landed on yours, searching for a lie.

"That was you? Why didn't you show yourself?"

You look at him solemnly before turning away.

"John. Humans can't know about us. We've been hunted for thousands of years. Our wings pulled off, tortured, beaten. So now we erase the memories from the human we save. It's safer for us that way."

You face him again, and step forward, standing toe to toe. His broad chest is almost as large as your wings, and you feel your heart pull.

You press a finger to his temple. You show him in his mind every time you've saved him and his team.

"You forget me every time." You say sadly.

His eyes widen as he sees everything in his mind, every time you saved him and his team... he watches the memories, the moments when you appeared out of nowhere and saved them, just to disappear again without a trace...

He feels a mix of anger, shock, and even a hint of sadness as he sees these memories, and as you say the words "You forget me every time", he feels something break within him...

He stands there, his mind racing as he tries to process everything he just saw... He looks at you, his expression softening slightly as he speaks in a quiet, almost pained tone...

"You... You've been there all along... Saving us, looking out for us, and we just forgot about you...?"

"That's the deal, John. Keeps us all safe. Keeps you safe."

He takes a deep breath, his expression conflicted as he gazes down at you. He feels a mixture of anger, sadness, and guilt...

He speaks quietly, his voice low and filled with emotion...

"And you just expect me to forget about you again...? Just act like you don't exist...? How can I do that...?"

"I've been saving you for years, John." You reply, your voice quiet and soft, almost as of you were going to cry at any moment.

He lets out a low, frustrated sigh as he hears your words... Years. You've been saving him for years, and he never knew...

*He shakes his head, his expression still conflicted and pained...*

"Years... And I never knew... I never knew that an angel was watching over me i had you... Protecting me..."

He stands there in silent contemplation, his mind filled with the memories you showed him, the knowledge that you've been saving him for years...

He glances at you, his eyes dark and conflicted... He wants to say something, anything, but he can't find the right words....

"You know, Ghost was the hardest one. Those demons almost had him. But I brought back to you."

He nods,remembering when Ghost was brought back to base after everyone was convinced he had died.

"I have a question." He states, tugging his vest on.

"What if I say no."

"No?" You prompt, frowning.

"Don't erase my memories, love." He asks, a pleading tone to his deep voice.

"Don't make me forget you." He continues.

He leans in, close enough for you to smell the musk of his cigar on his collar.

He brings a hooked finger under your chin, making your eyes lock to his.

"I can keep you safe. My team can keep you safe. Don't do this." He begs, his eyes searching yours for an a answer.

You close your eyes, pulling out of his grasp.

"I have-"

"You don't! Think about this, love." He says quietly, as if he's about to detonate an emotional bomb. Raising his hands, he closes the gap between you.

"Why me, love?" He asks gruffly.

"Why not you, John?" You reply easily.

At his frown, you sigh, your shoulders relaxing a little.

"Russia." You admit.

His body stilled. The mission in Russia was the worst one of John's career. He went through every torture method possible, and still came home.

"I heard you praying. But you weren't praying for yourself, you were praying for your team, for Ghost, for Gaz, even for Soap." You chuckle.

"So I saved you. This amazing man who in the last flutters of life, was selfless and wanted nothing more than his team to be okay."

"I grew attached to you, and the team. The relief I felt when I found each one of you alive. It's started because they were all important to you. Then they became family."

"Then why erase our memories, we can help you." John asks again.

"I trust you boys like family, but it's the rest of the human world we can't trust." You explain.

John steps forward, his broad shoulders almost as wide as your wings. His voice rumbles in his chest as he trails a finger over the edge of your wings.

"Give me a day. If you feel anything that threatens your life, I give you permission to erase my memories of you."

"This is unheard of." You caution, concern marring your features.

"Then let's make history together." He says, his hand on your shoulder.

You nod, and you soon find yourself in a room back on base, with three very shocked faces.

"Steamin' Jesus! An Angel?" You hear a thick Scottish brogue exclaim.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

I MAY HAVE TO DO A PART TWO!

@kaeyasfuturewife @xoxunhinged @muneca-lemon-steppa @gardenof-venus @misshugs @soraya-daydreams @frudoo @renpodz @yesornowaitidontknow @thevoiceinyourheadx @shadowdark00 @rynbeerose @lunamoonbby @incredible-walker @identity2212 @pukbadger @urbimom @corvid007 @wordsfromshona @shadows-empress @m00xy @canyonmooncreations @oniraki @evie-119 @havoc973 @kylies-love-letter @ishipdabands @cmbghost @heckinspooks @midwesternwitchery @eggy-yoke @redzluvvesage @masterclassofescapism @s-a-v-a-n-a-34

[bluesidez]

GymRat!Miguel Part 3

content warning: small food mentions, a little suggestive at parts so MINORS BEWARE, sexual tension?? 😗, insecure thoughts about a plus size body (may or may not be triggering for some), a few mean girls, college party, alcohol, drugs, mentions of throw up like once, a bad look for sororities (sorry, y'all are probably very wonderful people)

word count: 3.2k (NOT A DRABBLE WTF 😭) not proofread, if you see a mistake lmk

GymRat!Miguel's workout playlist is here! I had to stop myself from adding more songs because it’s already so long lol. I didn't even include any cool down songs.

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel who wakes up without having to hobble to the bathroom for once. No morning wood because his dream of you was soft this time. You two were cuddled up on a couch with the world’s most fluffy blanket. He smiles to himself as he drags his feet to the bathroom. It was if dancing clouds and bubbles were floating around his head.

GymRat!Miguel who’s able to sit and chat with Ms. Beatrice longer today because his class doesn’t start until that after noon. He compliments her on the egg sandwich from the other day and she squeezes his cheeks when she thanks him as if he were a baby.

GymRat!Miguel who tinkers in the engineering building as he waits for lunch. He joined the small but mighty robotics team as soon as he found out there was one. There was a fighting robot division, and he needed to figure out the problems with his team’s robot sooner rather than later.

GymRat!Miguel who spots you at the student center having your lunch. He wastes no time to grab his food and book it to your table. He calls your name before he gets there, not wanting to startle you. You smile when you look up surprised to see him there.

"Can I join you?" he says, trying not to seem out of breath with how fast his heart is beating.

"Yeah," you say, arranging your things around. You push your computer to the side as he places his burito bowl on the table. "I'm finally getting to see you outside of lab."

In his mind, he takes a note of you being in the student center at this time. He wants to make eating with you a routine thing.

"What were you watching?" he asks, trying to curb the rush that your presence has on him. He opened up his bowl and started to mix his food, waiting patiently for your answer.

"This is a little embarrassing but," you pause to dump one of your nuggets in sauce. "I was watching someone explain the downfall of Chuck E. Cheese." Your voice gets softer as you finish your sentence, eyes avoiding his gaze.

You were so cute. And it's almost as if you've never met him, the ultimate nerd.

"Nothing wrong with wanting to know why more and more locations went from five animatronics to one. Or how they started to sell their pizzas under ghost kitchens," he says, taking a bite from his bowl.

You looked at him and your smile grew. Miguel could only think 'there she is. there's my girl.'

The two of you chatted about everything from malfunctioning Chuck E's to your classes to your food. Miguel was through the roof.

GymRat!Miguel who offers to carry your art portfolio case for you to the art building. Anything to extend your time together. Plus, why should you have to hold it when he's here? He holds the doors for you and presses the elevator buttons before you can even think to.

GymRat!Miguel who really loves when the elevator door closes and he can look down at as you talk away. Just for those few seconds, the outside world is quiet and it's just you two. In another world, he'd kiss you before the doors open. In another world, he'd tilt your head up and have you look at him when you speak, he wanted to read your eyes too.

You're staring at him expectantly, eyes reminding him of baby deers. He tilts his head at you, wondering why you're staring at him.

"Miguel the door is open. We have to leave before it closes," you say.

He's instantly broke back to reality.

"Right! Sorry," he says, heat rising on the back of his neck. He steps out and holds his hand in front of the opening so that the door doesn't close you.

"Thank you," you say, a giggle under your breath.

Miguel has done some pretty embarrassing things when it comes to you, but he didn't think it would bleed into when he was actually in front of you.

In this world, he needed to not give you the creeps. Get it together.

GymRat!Miguel who is ecstatic that you still want to come work out with him. You all plan to meet that Friday. You don't know what you want to work out, but you say you're excited. Miguel has tonight, Wednesday, and Thursday to plan the perfect workout for you.

Should he go buy a bottle so he can make you a smoothie? Or should he offer to buy you a smoothie afterwards? Do you even like smoothies? Maybe he should invite you to breakfast. Would you want to eat right after you worked out? You needed to eat to make sure you can speed up the healing process though....

GymRat!Miguel who waves you goodbye when it's almost time for your studio class to start, mind filled with so many questions.

Your friend turns to you immediately when Miguel is gone.

"And who was that?" she says, eyes shocked.

"He's a guy from my lab. His name is Miguel," you say, grinning in your hands. You felt like kicking your feet in the air, but alas, no time.

"He's super hot. Like, seriously," your friend says, moving her taboret next to her workspace. "I would hit it. Constantly."

"Please stop talking," you say, laughing along. "I'm not even sure if he goes for girls like me. I'd rather not get my hopes up." You wanted to keep yourself in reality and falling for Miguel might put you too close to the land of delusion. You figured that Miguel was just super nice, especially after you two worked so hard for that lab project.

Your friend stops and looks at you, she slams the liquin tin on the table and puts her hand on her hip.

"First of all, those "types of guys" love big girls, so don't give me that. Second of all, are you not seeing how he looks at you. He's giving you the biggest puppy dog eyes, like, ever." She picks the liquin tin back up and starts scooping aggressively at the sides. "You gotta be more confident! You're gorgeous, anyone with a functioning brain can see that."

You stand there stunned, shocked at your friend's outburst. "I am confident!" Partially true. "I just...don't want to be hurt."

"I understand that, but have you even asked if he likes you or not?"

You shake your head no.

"Exactly. The night is still young," your friend says, pointing her palette knife at you. "And if you don't go for it, I will."

"Oh my god, shut up," you say, throwing a crumbled shop towel at her. You still kept her words in the back of your mind, storing it for later.

GymRat!Miguel who paces in front of the campus gym, waiting for your arrival. He got up extra early and gave himself a pep talk in the mirror. It wasn't a date, per se, but he felt that it could lead to one if he played his cards right. He decided to just invite you out to eat, figuring you would bring your stickered-water bottle.

GymRat!Miguel who spots you before you even call his name. He waves, smile taking over his features. You wave back, and it isn't until you're ten steps away that he finally takes in your full outfit. Another two-piece that was going to be the death of him, the only thing was that this was in the flesh. He cursed under his breath before you got closer, brain short-circuiting at the fabric hugging your skin.

"Ready to go?" he asks, forcing himself to not look at your body and to look at your face.

"Yeah! I'm a little nervous but I'm ready to work," you say, following him to the door.

He opens the doors for you, "Nothing to be nervous about. You're in good hands."

He brings you to his locker so you can put your bag in there, not wanting anyone to snag your belongings.

You guys start at the track, walking a lap as a warm up. Usually Miguel would do a lap or two of jogging, and as much as he wanted to watch you bounce, especially on him, this was a beginner workout. He didn't want to scare you with how intense he can get. While walking, you guys chatted about little things. Miguel tells you how wasn't nearly this big four years ago, ensuring you that the path to get here can be hard. You tell him that you just want be healthy, not caring if you lost weight or gained muscle. Miguel was secretly happy to hear this because he liked your body the way it was, but he would roll with whatever you were feeling.

GymRat!Miguel who helps you stretch. You both sit on the floor and face each other with your feet touching. Miguel saw how much smaller your feet were compared to his and his heart fluttered. His mind was filled with a million voices rambling off new things about you.

"She's focusing so hard"

"How can a gym outfit be so hot"

"She's so close to me when we do this stretch"

"Her hands are so warm"

"Maybe I should have stretched her from behind too"

That last thought gets Miguel to move you guys to the next part of the routine. How is his head always in the gutter?

GymRat!Miguel who starts you off with dumbbells, giving you the 5 lb weights to start. He starts you off with a few shoulder and arm exercises, giving you tips and praise along the way. His touches linger on your arms as he corrects your form, watching your body intensely. His constant "good"s, "one more''s, and "uh huh"s hit you right in your core. You're thankful that you're out of breath and heated from the workout, otherwise you would have melted before him.

GymRat!Miguel who pulls out all of the stops, using the heavier weights for his sets. He screams on the inside when you cheer him on. You clap at the end of one of his harder sets, happy that he pushed himself. He bows in silly way, sweat dripping down his face and laughing at your actions.

GymRat!Miguel who spots you while you use a heavier weight to do squats. You wanted to go for the 15 lb weight even though it was your first time doing weighted squats. He didn't want you to fall over, so he stood behind you and held his hands in the air by your waist as you went down. He knew that he was supposed to be focused, but he couldn't help but to glance at your ass a few times. God.

GymRat!Miguel who ends off your workout with the bikes, you guys making it a small competition. He stands and cycles, watching as your jaw dropped. You started to stand but got a little scared and gave up quick. Miguel couldn't have that. He stopped moving and got up to be by your side.

"You got it! Don't be scared," he says, watching you work.

"I literally can't do that," you say, cycling a little faster.

"Sure you can! Try it, I'm right here," he says, encouraging you.

You fight your fear and stand up and cycle. "Oh my god," you say, breaths coming out hard.

"That's it, that's it," Miguel says, voice warm as he praises you. "You're doing so good. Keep going."

You push until you can't anymore, Miguel cheering at your side.

GymRat!Miguel who guides you to the showers after your workout. It sucks that he can't be in there with you. His imagination can only get him so far.

GymRat!Miguel who waits for you to come out of the bathroom, ready to ask you to go for smoothies and breakfast. He hopes you say yes.

GymRat!Miguel who is in awe again at how you look. How many two-piece sets did you have? How does he survive them every single time? He mutters up the courage to ask you if you wanted to go get smoothies, adding on that he would pay. You glow and say yes, stating that you love smoothies. He's soaring.

GymRat!Miguel who brings your food to the table, two wraps and two smoothies. A protein shake for him and a fruit smoothie for you.

"That was a really good workout today. You definitely put me to work," you say, unwrapping the straw to stab it through the top. You hum at the flavor as you take a sip.

"Good?" Miguel asks, and you nod your head with your thumb up. "I'm glad you liked the workout. I was excited to have a partner."

"A partner? Why didn't you invite us to join?"

You both look up to see a few girls standing by the checkout counter. Miguel notices them as the sorority girls from his literature class. They walk over to your table, eyes twinkling as they take in Miguel.

Miguel chuckles awkwardly, not knowing what to say. He didn't think he had to deal with them outside of class too.

One of the girls look at you and goes, "Oo are you a personal trainer?"

You're taken aback, eyes scanning between the girls. You're about to open your mouth to respond but Miguel gets to them first.

"No, we're workout partners," he says, snapping at the girl. "And we're kind of having a conversation right now so is there anything else that you guys want to say?"

The girl cowers a bit at Miguel's words, laughing as if he told a joke and twirling her hair. The leader of the pack turns to Miguel, "Sorry about that. We wanted to see if you could come to our party tomorrow night. It'll be super fun and we would love to see you there."

A party? Miguel hadn't gone to one since he moved on campus. He always wanted to experience a college one. He turned to you and saw that you just tapped at your phone, not looking to the girls.

"I'll go if I can bring her," Miguel says, tapping his foot against yours. You look up, shock in your eyes,

Some of the girls slump, and the leader tightens her smile, "Fine! That's cool. I'll send you the details later."

The girls walk off and you stare at them, eyes squinting.

"They're an interesting bunch aren't they?" you say, continuing to eat your wrap.

"Right?" Miguel says, turning back to you.

GymRat!Miguel who comes to your dorm, ready to walk you to the party. He knocks on your door, a little nervous. He had on a nice top, the top open a little bit and a thin chain around his neck. After a while, you opened the door and gobsmacked him again with your outfit.

"Wow," he says, standing in the door like an idiot.

"Is it bad?" you ask, body glowing.

"No, you look amazing," Miguel says. "Ready to go?" He holds his arm out, softly smiling at you.

You nod and intertwine your arm through his.

GymRat!Miguel who takes in the atmosphere, frat guys yelling by a pool table, a few girls dancing with red solo cups, some people making out on the couch.

For Miguel, it was a lot.

He turned to you, yelling to ask if you wanted a drink. You say yes and you both make your way to the kitchen.

There, you both are met with the sorority girls crowding the kitchen. Some of them are passing some pills around and others are chatting by the island. One of them looks up and sees you guys lingering by the entrance.

"Miguel! You made it! Come on have a drink," she pulls him closer in the room. "Want a xannie?"

"I'm good," he says, handing you a cup of Pink Whitney. You take a sip and turn your nose a little bit. You might have to suck it up to get through the night.

"I'm so glad you made it. I have something that I've been meaning to show you," she says, batting her eyes. She convinces him to follow her up the stairs.

Miguel yells over his shoulder that he'll be right back.

You stand in the kitchen, fingers tapping against your cup. You felt a little silly and out of place. You didn't know anyone else here and the people were cliquey.

You joined a few games of beer pong, trying to enjoy yourself, but you couldn't help but to think about Miguel.

You dance a little, joining some random girls in the middle of the room. The music is ok, but you were just trying to have a good time. After an hour or so, you get nervous. Miguel hasn't been back in a while.

You head back to the kitchen, thinking maybe he could be in there.

"If you're looking for Miguel, he's probably deep in a bed right now," one girl giggles as she comes up beside you, grabbing another drink.

"What?" you say, eyebrows furrowed.

"Yeah girl, why else would he be gone so long? I tried to go up there and the doors were locked. Just text him tomorrow."

Your hand grips your cup tighter, watching as the girl goes back into the thick of the crowd.

You decide to wait a little longer, scrolling on the same three apps back to back for another hour. You look at the time again and the 3 am stares back at you mockingly.

You figure that he's really not coming back down and open your Instagram to give him a text.

“Hey Miguel! I’m gonna go ahead and go back to my dorm. It's getting pretty late."

You walk back to your dorm, arms wrapped around yourself to brace from the cold.

GymRat!Miguel who finally makes it to a bathroom that's not occupied with some one hovering over the toilet. He feels out of it. Throwing back a few too many shots. He was trying to get back downstairs but there was always someone there to pull him back, offering something.

A shot? Sure.

A pill? No.

A game? Maybe.

The girl who brought him up there tried her best to get in his pants, but if he was being honest, he didn't even remember her name. Or any of the names of the girls that came in afterwards. He declined every one of them, just wanting to get some air.

He was able to check his phone.

3:35 am.

He sees your message and feels sick. He runs downstairs and out the door, the cool air sobering him up a bit.

"Fuck," he says hands to his head. He squats and texts you back.

"I am so sorry. I got caught up. Did you make it back safely?"

It was so late, there was no way you would respond. He fucked up.

He texted Gabriel, maybe his drunk mind pushing him to seek help from his little brother.

"So if I invite a girl to a party and leave her what are the chances that she will text me back? :((("

"Dude. It's almost 4am. And where is this so-called game that you have? Ik you're not asking me about anything"

"Gabri :(((("

"I'll be honest, she's probably blocking your number. IF she even has it lol"

Yeah. He fucked up.

dividers by: @yeribbon 🩵

a/n: Miguel's gym playlist is such a jarring difference from my own gym playlist. 😭 I left you guys with an extra long addition today because I have soooo much hw that's piling up and it's tearing me apart.

As always, leave a like and reblog. Leave comments please. 🥺 I want to see your reactions! Let me know how you feel. 🩵

taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @slushycoookie @emelie-s-h @lake-lili @obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting @flordelalunas @froggygal @vmpz8sauceee @famouscattale @nixinluv02 @jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies @samjinxx @sleeklyalisha @the-pan-liquid @prongs-lover @kikaaauu @urlocallocachica @wanderlustingcastaway @peachey-pie @ch3rry-bl1ss @girl-of-multi-fandoms @love-kha1 @manlikemilesmyguy @sillysillygoofygoose @monticellohoe

[charlotteking23]

The Lion's Lamb - Chapter 4 - MV1/33

Max Verstappen x reader

The Lion's Lamb Series: Aesthetics, Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.5, Ch.6, Ch.7

The Dutch and American couldn't keep each other out of their thoughts for the next few days.

Max found himself wanting to be around you more often. He found something other than racing, that he felt joy to be around.

You found herself drawn to the dark and mysterious aura that the Dutchman unmistakably had. Something about him made you feel something you never felt before.

In the days since they last saw each other, Max made good use of your number. Within an hour of leaving the coffee shop, he texted you.

Since then, they've been communicating nonstop. If they weren't busy with work, they were either texting or calling each other.

It wasn't until the upcoming Thursday that you felt like Max was becoming distant with you.

You were saddened by the thought. You rarely put Yourself out there, especially towards men, but something about Max made you want to try it.

By Sunday afternoon, Max had called you, extremely excited after winning the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix. It was a close race between Ferrari and Redbull, but Max ultimately won in the end.

You had spent your Sunday painting, trying to keep your thoughts clear of a certain Dutchman. You wouldn't allow herself to think about it more than you should.

You had put yourself out there and was ghosted. You wouldn't wallow in self-pity for a man You had only met once. At least that's what you told herself.

In front of you lay a painting of piercing blue eyes that stared right back at you. You stared back, getting lost in the familiar gaze before the sound of your phone ringing broke your thoughts.

Quickly grabbing the phone without looking at who was calling, you answered, "Hello?"

"Hey," you heard the rough voice of the man who has been haunting your thoughts recently.

"Max?"

"Why do you sound surprised to get my call?"

"I didn't think you would call me," You said lightly, your heart racing just from his voice. "You seemed to not want to talk to me recently."

"I'm sorry, little lamb," You heard him sigh through the phone. "I was away for work and things got busy."

"Oh," You blushed at the pet name he said, "So you weren't done with me?"

"Little lamb, you can't get rid of me that easy," you giggled at his answer before responding.

"How was the work trip then?"

"It went well, but I can't wait to come back and see you again."

"When do you come back?"

"Tonight. I'd love to see you again sometime this week."

"I would love to see you too," you bit your lip nervously. "You have to tell me all about your trip."

"I will little lamb," he chuckled.

The Redbull driver couldn't keep the smile off his face. His little lamb wanted to be around him when he came back.

He was upset that you believed him to be ignoring you when that wasn't his intention at all. Max didn't tell you that he had gone away for work. He's used to people knowing who he is.

The name Max Verstappen has become a household name overnight it seemed. After winning his World Championship title last year, especially under the circumstances, he had built a name for himself. Good and bad.

So for him, you were a breath of fresh air. Being around someone that did know him, or what he does for a living, made him feel normal. As an F1 driver, normal is hard to come by.

Daniel Ricardo, the McLaren driver, and Max's closest friend, watched him on the phone from a distance. He had never seen his friend's face light up as much as it did when speaking to whoever was on the other end.

Daniel was there for the Dutchman since the beginning of his career at Redbull. Max was his younger brother in his head and he wouldn't have it any other way.

The McLaren driver knew that the Dutchman past, knowing he hadn't had the easiest life and his life revolved around racing. After watching the Redbull driver win his first title, the Aussie watched him slowly start to become a recluse.

Riccardo knew the young driver had been struggling since his world championship title came with a lot of controversy. Max wanted to prove to everyone, including himself, that he was a great driver.

Seeing the Aussie walking towards him, the Dutchman quickly told his little lamb goodbye and that he'd call back when he got the chance.

He didn't want anyone to know about you just yet. You were his escape from reality and he refused to share that escape with anyone else in fear of losing it.

"You all good mate?" The Australian driver asked once he got closer to the other driver, noticing the small smile on his face.

"Yeah," he responded shortly, letting the smile drop from his face.

"Who were you just on the phone with?" The driver smirks at his old teammate. He couldn't help but be nosey.

Especially after noticing how quickly he got off the phone when he approached. He wouldn't be Daniel Riccardo if he didn't know any drama.

"No one," Max shook his head quickly, refusing to fall for the other man's antics.

"Did our little Dutchman find a girl?"

"No," Max deadpanned. If he told the Aussie, it wouldn't be long before Lando, the other McLaren driver knew. And the younger driver couldn't keep a secret to save his life.

"You don't smile, especially on the phone, for just anyone."

"Daniel," the younger driver sighed, knowing the smile on his friend's face meant he wasn't going to stop pushing him. "If I tell you something you will drop the subject?"

The Aussie nodded his head vigorously, his classic grin plastered on his face. He just wanted to know what was going on with his friend.

If a girl is making him this happy, he'd like to know about you.

"You can't tell anyone about her okay? I don't need this getting out especially since it just started."

"I promise I won't say anything."

"She's amazing. She's gorgeous and absolutely the most innocent human being out there," he smiles thinking about you he hopes to see tomorrow. "The best part is, she doesn't know who I am."

"She doesn't?" That surprised Daniel, seeming how almost everyone knew who he was. "I don't want to say this, but is she faking this personality to get close to you?"

"No," the Dutchman shakes his head, not even entertaining the thought, "this girl can't lie to save her life. You can see it in her eyes that she has nothing but good intentions."

"Alright," the Aussie nods, choosing to believe his friend. "Where'd you meet her?"

"Coffee shop in Monaco."

"She's from Monaco and doesn't know who you are?"

"She's American, she only moved to Monaco for work."

"An American? Should have just started with that," the McLaren driver grins, "you know how much I love Americans."

Max shakes his head at his friend's comment. Thinking to himself how right his friend is.

The McLaren driver does love Americans, everyone on the grid is pretty positive that the man is a secret American pretending to be Australian.

"Look man," Daniel says while grabbing the Redbull driver's shoulder, "if she's making you this happy, who am I to say shit."

The Dutchman gives the Aussie a slight smile, thinking about you. He can't see you fitting into his lifestyle, yet at the same time, he can't seem to want anyone but you here.

"I want to be the first one to meet her," Daniel slowly gets a mischievous look in his eyes, "I can't promise that she won't choose me instead of you once she sees this beautiful face."

Taglist: @shelbyteller, @smithieandy, @fangirlforever2000, @herexpertcollector, @vip-access

[sxddekarios]

pleasures of the self

it's gale's turn to cum. on his back, in his tent, next to tav.

mainly: masturbation, handjob

3.2k words

read on ao3

“What about you?” Tav asked.

“What about me?” Gale asked back, confused.

Tav nudged her head against Gale’s shoulder. “Don’t you… want something?”

Gale looked down at her with a frown. “If you’re referring to the cock pressing against you… no. I just want to hold you. It’ll go away, don’t worry.”

He was seriously happy to cuddle with her. He knew he’d get tired soon enough and be able to sleep without worrying about his erection.

Tav returned his frown. “But,” she paused, “I want to do something for you.” She didn’t know exactly what, just that it was expected to reciprocate.

“You’re in no state to, sweetheart.” Gale said, knowing she was still sore from being finger fucked earlier. He was gentle, but she was tighter than an arcane lock. “I don’t want you moving.”

Tav was touched by how considerate he was. He seemed so content to just please her and snuggle, which made her heart swell.

She asked, “Can I watch you then?”

“What?” Gale asked, caught completely off guard.

Tav met his gaze as she clarified, “Can I watch you make yourself come? Please?”

She really wanted to see it, although it would probably (definitely) make her want to come again. It could be a never-ending cycle… but Gale deserved to feel pleasure.

Gale was somehow caught even more off guard. “I — you want to?” He stammered out the question, confused and shocked by the thought of her wanting to see him do that.

“Yes,” Tav replied without a moment of hesitation. “I do.”

Embarrassed as he was, Gale couldn’t deny the throbbing below his waist as he thought of her watching him pleasure himself. Her deep brown eyes on his. Would she like how he looked? Had she even seen a cock before?

He couldn’t let the thought go now that it was in his head. “Then,” he said, “yes.” The orb in his chest began to glow as his heart raced.

Gale leaned in to kiss her soft lips again. He drank her in, savoring the sweet cherry taste of the oil she always used. His palm came up from between her legs to cup her jaw.

Tav sighed into the kiss as Gale moved his thumb over her skin. She missed the coldness covering her pain, but Gale’s mouth was doing a good job at distracting her. She leaned further into him, hooking a leg over his hips for comfort.

A deep moan escaped Gale as Tav’s bare leg brushed against the growing hardness in his trousers. Just a moment of kissing her and he was rearing to go.

He reluctantly broke away from her lips to re-situate himself. It hadn’t been long since he’s self-indulged, but he’d never done it with someone else near him, let alone lying half on him. The intimacy of the situation made him blush harder. And he didn’t even have his cock out yet.

Tav pouted at the loss of contact. Despite the darkness in the tent, she tried to keep her eyes on Gale’s right hand as it left her face and moved down, under the blanket towards Gale’s waist. She wondered what it felt like.

Gale’s hand paused its journey underneath the blanket, fingers trailing above his waistband. He was lying on his back now, his left arm still propped behind Tav’s head.

“Do you want to see,” he paused as he considered his word choice, “everything?” Meaning my cock, he thought. She said she wanted to see him touch himself, but she may’ve just meant his face. Either way, he was more than happy to oblige.

Tav shifted so her right arm could snake around Gale’s head, ghosting her fingers against his skin. He shivered at her touch. “Yes,” she whispered. “Could we maybe have a little light?” She asked shyly — she felt guilty for wanting to see him but not wanting him to see her.

“Of course,” Gale replied as he casted a flame cantrip behind their heads. His breath caught when he realized that Tav’s left hand had come up to stroke his chest. He watched her hand with awe as she traced over the lines of the orb.

She lifted her eyes up to his and smiled when she saw how enraptured he was with the simple movement. Tav moved her hand downward, eliciting a groan from Gale when her finger grazed his nipple.

“Tav,” he moaned, finally meeting her eyes. She grinned at the attention. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

Tav giggled and moved her hand down even further until she gestured towards his blanket-covered waist. “I think I have a pretty good idea, actually.”

Gale rolled his eyes at her response with a smirk. He loved her cheekiness, so much so that he could never truly be displeased at her teasing him. “Touché,” he conceded.

With his attention refocused on his desire for her, he took in the scene before him with the added light. Tav’s tan fingers tracing up and down his navel, occasionally brushing against his own hand that was still lying before the blanket.

Her flushed face, dark hair fanning out beautifully. He couldn’t be luckier.

“Is this light satisfactory?” Gale asked. “I can dim it, brighten it, whatever’s best for you.” He frankly had no preference, no ability or need to form an opinion on the light level while Tav was lying next to him, pressing against him, and her hand was mere inches away from his throbbing cock.

Tav couldn’t help but smile at Gale’s ever-present thoughtfulness. “It’s perfect,” she assured him.

“Good,” he replied, smiling softly back at her.

“Now,” Tav drew out the word, diverting his attention back down as she poked his knuckle. “I believe you were about to show me something.”

She was nervous, but she was excited. Given how perfect Gale was in every other way… it’d most likely be enjoyable.

She shifted downwards for a more comfortable viewing experience, now resting her cheek upon his warm chest.

“Right,” Gale said, moving his hand once again. He brushed the blanket back so he could unbutton his trousers and push down the fly. He did the same with his underwear, allowing his hard member to spring free. He slowly ran his hand up the length, delighting in the contact.

Tav’s mouth opened in a small O as she looked at Gale’s cock. He had a light dusting of hair carrying down from his happy trail, but that was it. In its fully unimpeded glory, Gale’s cock was exactly how she expected it — better, actually — the perfect size to wrap her hand around, complete with a few faint veins and a reddish pink head glistening with pre-cum.

Beautiful. That’s the only word she could think of to describe it. She imagined playing with his cock — more for her enjoyment, really — while he read to her. It sounded absolutely divine.

Gale’s left hand cradled the back of Tav’s head, gently scratching her scalp in a soothing manner. He tried to gauge her reaction, praying that she liked it. Liked him.

Tav finally spoke. “It’s so pretty,” she whispered. Her own hand inched closer to his as she marveled at his member. Pre-cum continued to leak out of the tip, and she watched it travel down his shaft.

A smile took over Gale’s face at Tav’s reverence. He kept his hand loosely around the base of his cock, not completely sure of his next move.

“Can I touch you?” Tav whispered.

Gale raised his eyebrows at her question. No amount of divination lessons could’ve made him expect that. It felt too good to be real. Still, he breathlessly answered. “Yes.”

Tav moved her hand slowly, first going to meet Gale’s hand. She traced soft lines around his knuckles and fingers. She’d always loved his hands, and she wasn’t going to pass up this opportunity to touch them.

She blushed when she remembered that these fingers had brought her to orgasm earlier.

The orb in Gale’s chest glowed lightly underneath Tav’s cheek, releasing a pleasant warmth. She paused to turn her head back to look up at Gale. As best as she could from this angle, anyways.

“Is this alright?” she asked. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” Gale sighed, “it doesn’t hurt. The orb gets a bit antsy when I’m excited but, I still feel safe.” The corner of his lips tilted up as he stared down at her. “It’s amazing.”

“Okay,” She murmured. “Good. You’ll let me know if that changes?”

“I promise,” Gale replied.

Satisfied, Tav smiled and returned her gaze back down to his waist. She moved her hand up over his, then finally, rested against his shaft.

Gale whimpered softly at the contact. He hadn’t been touched by another in so long — and to be touched by someone so beautiful, so kind, so unaware of her perfection? Her hand felt better than the Weave itself, it felt like tiny waves of warm electricity pulsing around his cock.

On top of that, he felt a sweet and nerve-racking affection filling his heart. He felt special to have her attention at anymoment, but especially like this.

Tav gently ran her fingers up Gale’s length. She reveled in the delicious sounds she elicited from him. His cock felt warm and smooth in her hand.

Gale gasped when Tav brought her thumb under the head of his cock and pushed upwards. “Fuck,” he let out.

Tav smirked and traced her thumb across his slit to gather some of his pre-cum, garnering another groan. She could see the muscles in his stomach contract with every small move she made.

She brought her moistened thumb back down to the soft, sensitive spot underneath the head. She stroked small circles as Gale pressed his head back into the pillow and closed his eyes.

She loved seeing him like this, loved knowing that she was his undoing.

Meanwhile, Gale loved the way she giggled when his cock twitched in her hand. He opened his eyes to peek at her, smiling and shaking his head. Only Tav could seem so innocent when she was stroking his cock.

Stroking may not be the right term though, he thought, because it was more like she was playing with him. Which he also loved. He knew that she was just having fun exploring and getting reactions out of him — she wasn’t doing this out of some internalized pressure she had to please him.

He’d be perfectly happy to get himself off, though he was still nervous at doing it in front of her, but he also didn’t think he’d last much longer with her touching him like this.

Some might describe her movements as teasing, but the fact that Tav was touching his cock after he’d been pining over her for weeks, and the fact that he hadn’t been intimate in over a year (even longer since someone had put their hands on his cock, and never like this)… He was already close to bursting. He could never complain about her soft, sweet touches.

And there Tav was, watching pre-cum leak out of his slit as she switched between running her hand up and down his shaft, and tracing three fingers and her thumb upwards on the tip like she was gently lifting it up. Blissfully unaware that Gale was hyper-focused on trying not to cum on her.

“Tav,” he moaned, “you feel amazing.”

She grinned at his praise, noticing that he sounded nothing short of desperate. “Good,” she said, rubbing her thumb over his slit and giggling when he twitched again. More clear liquid dribbled out. “This is actually fun.”

Gale smiled down at her. He was relieved that she was enjoying herself.

“Though I should probably let you,” Tav paused when she looked up at Gale. She stared at him in pure amazement. He looked like an utter, beautiful mess.

He was gazing down at her with his eyebrows pinched in pleasure and desire for release. His cheeks were flushed, lips parted, hair sticking to his temple with sweat.

Tav took a breath to compose herself. She finally finished her sentence, “do your thing…” She stroked her thumb across his shaft for emphasis and gave it a soft squeeze.

She was stunned at how pretty he looked when he moaned for her.

“Right,” Gale replied, his voice deep with want. Tav felt a warmth between her thighs.

She moved her hand away from his cock, bringing it back up to rest on his stomach.

Gale’s cock twitched towards her hand, as if begging it to come back. Gale brought his right hand back to his cock, gripping his shaft to replace her warmth.

He was more aware of his hand now — how it was larger, rougher, not as delicate and soft as Tav’s. Still, the contact felt good. Especially when Tav was sweetly looking up at him, stroking her hand across his abdomen.

One oil spell later and Gale’s hand was slick against his cock. He began to slowly pump his hand up and down his shaft. He groaned softly, all the while holding Tav’s gaze.

Tav shifted her body a bit to the side so she could more easily turn her head. Her gaze moved to his cock — for the first time since his gorgeous hand fell upon it — and she immediately felt more heat pulse to her core.

She instinctively squeezed her legs together, which meant the leg she had draped over Gale’s legs squeezed against him.

He moaned at this show of her arousal. She’s aroused from watching me masturbate, he marveled. He stroked his left hand down her hair and to her shoulder, now accessible with her new position, causing Tav to whimper softly.

Gods, he could not be any more aroused. His cock throbbed at her sounds, her movements, her eyes gazing attentively at his cock or lovingly at his face.

“It’s so pretty,” Tav whispered as she watched Gale touch himself. “You’re so pretty.”

Gale smiled as heat rose to his cheeks. “Thank you,” he replied softly. No one had ever said that about him. He was used to being called handsome, or sexy, but never pretty. And certainly not about his cock. Yet it sounded so sweet, so genuine, so pure, so perfect coming from her.

He couldn’t leave the compliment unreturned though. “You’re absolutely beautiful, you know that?”

That got a smile out of her. “I’ve heard,” she said cheekily. She gave his navel a playful poke before pouting.

“I don’t know what to look at,” she complained. “Your face or your cock.”

Gale’s cock throbbed again at her words. He wondered if this was the first time she’d said that word. He felt even more heat flooding to his erection, though he didn’t know how that was possible.

“Wherever you like,” he replied, knowing this answer was of no help to her. He continued stroking his cock, moving a little faster, gripping a little more firmly. “I guess it depends on what you’d rather see when I come, which is going to happen rather soon,” he admitted, a little embarrassed.

“Hm,” Tav pondered. She tensed her leg against him again at the thought of him finishing. She wanted to see both, but this position was best for looking at his cock. Besides, she thought, maybe we can try this in another position sometime. Maybe I can sit across from him so I can see his face and his cock while he comes.

She smiled at the thought. “I’ll keep my eyes here, then.” She bit her lip as she watched Gale’s deft fingers moving up and down his slick length. “But next time I want to see both,” she added quietly.

Gale’s heart skipped a beat. “Okay,” he chucked. He was getting closer, heat pulsing through his shaft. “You might want to move your hand further up,” he warned her. “So you don’t …. get messy.” His face flushed. So I don’t get my come all over your pretty little hand.

Tav nudged her head against his chest as she pressed her palm more firmly to his stomach. She teasingly said, “I’m good where I am, thanks.” She knew exactly what he meant, and she wanted to be in the splash zone.

Plus, she thought, getting a bit on her hand was a good excuse to get a little taste. Just for future reference, if she was ever going to taste his cock.

Gale continued his strokes, trying not to moan too loudly. He watched Tav watch his hand moving, felt her warm skin against his, and remembered how amazing she tasted.

Tav was still absent-mindedly tracing circles on his abdomen when she decided to go in for the kill. She spoke softly, “I want to see you make yourself come, Gale.”

With those words, with his name coming out of her mouth, Gale was done for. His grip on her shoulder tightened while his other hand brought him to orgasm. He moaned her name as he came.

Warm cum spurted out of his cock and over his fist as he pumped himself. As he slowed down, cum was still squirting out onto his navel, onto Tav’s fingers. He continued whimpering and groaning until he was finished and he moved his hand away from his cock, allowing it to flop towards his stomach.

Tav was unbelievably horny after watching that. She brought her a finger up to her lips, giving it a little lick. It tasted a bit like the glaze on a cinnamon roll, she thought. Is that what his enchanted underwear does?

She was relieved that is was sweet rather than salty, and decided that she would indeed like to taste him some time. After how sweet he’s been to her, she felt it was reasonable for him to let her run her tongue over his length, wrap her lips around his tip and suck, without expecting or forcing her to fully take him in her mouth.

Gale groaned as he watched Tav lick his cum off of her finger. She truly couldn’t seem to stop making him aroused. He used a drying spell to clean off his crotch and stomach so he could tuck his softening cock back into his underwear.

“Your cum tastes nice,” Tav said before turning back up to gaze at his face. He looked even more like a mess now, and it just made her want to come again.

“Gods, Tav,” Gale moaned as his face heated. “You’re obscene.” Hopefully his teasing would cover up for how excruciatingly turned on he was from her so-called obscenity. He was just glad that the orb hadn’t painfully interrupted them, although he was eager to taste her again to satisfy both the orb’s and his own desire.

She stuck her tongue out at him in response, which poked against his chest and brought out a tiny whimper. She smiled as he rolled his eyes and wrapped her in his arms, pulling her close.

“Stay with me?” He murmured into her hair.

“Always,” Tav said as she closed her eyes, snuggling into Gale’s warm chest.

[nonstoplover]

she broke my heart ~ daniel ricciardo (dr3)

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

song inspiration: she broke my heart ~ noah schnacky

summary: the story of how daniel met that someone just because a girl broke his heart

words: 2.6K

warnings: the title is deceiving a bit, i know, but it is pure fluff really

a/n: visa rb kicked danny out and didn't give him the respect and the goodbye he deserved, so i had to write something to help with the pain and kinda make myself forget about what is going on with him at the moment. and what is a better cure than a short fic with some heartwarming fluff?

please, don't be a ghost reader, leave a comment or rb!

His friends invited him to go to a bar with them, but drowning in his misery, he felt like staying in. Well, that's what he thought at 6pm. A few hours later, feeling more bitter than he's done in a very long time, he realises he could do with the distraction.

He doesn't want to admit it to his friends, though, because first of all, it was him who was unpersuadable about going out, and secondly, they would just joke around, trying to find him a girl to make up for the void her girlfriend – well, ex-girlfriend now – left behind. And he definitely doesn't want that. It's been a week already, but the pain hasn't subsided. And to be honest, he doesn't want the pain to go, not just yet. It's a great reminder of what he's lost, of what he's done wrong. He takes the free time her absence means to reflect on what could've gone differently, if he'd just paid a bit more attention, if he was there more.

Or maybe there's nothing he could've done otherwise. Maybe it wasn't his fault in the end, but hers.

Deep down, he knows it was most probably both of them, but he would've tried. He wanted to fight, in order to keep what they still had, fight for them. She didn't, it seems like.

It was a phone call, a simple, short, goddamn phone call. He was just about to board the flight home from a long race weekend when it happened. Didn't even know what to say. He was exhausted, all he wanted was some sleep and then landing in his girlfriend's arms when he woke up, many hours later. He couldn't find the words, so when she finished describing what wasn't working in their relationship, he just hummed.

And right when he opened his lips finally to say something actually coherent, she just swiftly said, "there's no need to make it harder than it needs to be. I'll be out of here before you get ho- before you get back", like it's no big deal. Like it didn't feel like a twist of the knife on his chest how she corrected herself before she could've said home. The place they shared for two and a half years. Now it's not her home anymore, so it seems.

She really did move out by the time he arrived at his front door. All her belongings were gone like they have never been there in the first place. Like she never existed. Even though she was the centre of the universe for him, or so he thought. Now he's starting to see everything in a new light.

His whole life changed in twenty seconds. That's how long the phone call lasted.

And now, a week later, he can still hear her words in his ear, on repeat, echoing around, making him want to shout, punch the wall, kick the trash can, anything, just to make it disappear.

So he gets dressed, and goes to a bar – one that he knows his friends most definitely aren't going to be at –, and sits down at the counter, ordering something strong, something that will burn its way down to his stomach, melting away the painful knots in his throat and chest along the way.

After one drink, it only feels worse. He's looking at the happy couples dancing away on this lovely Friday night, holding each other, looking like they aren't aware of anyone else in the bar, like they're the only two people left on the planet. It used to be like that for him and her as well. But not anymore.

After two drinks, the echo of her words seems to quieten a bit. Some words missing from the sentences she said, and the blissful memories of their time together fading from the front of his mind that have been playing on repeat until then.

After three drinks, the welcomed distraction finally comes. He's not thinking about her any longer, he's not watching the couples dancing sorrowfully, he's just nodding his head to the rhythm of the music playing, his feet also tapping the beat on the foot-rest of the bar stool he's perching on.

After four drinks, he finally gets up, the fifth in his hands, though it's not the same thing anymore, he's changed his order to something more fun, something more unique.

What he doesn't notice though, too focused on the way the fancy little drink swirls in the glass, reflecting the lights of the dance floor, creating a tiny rainbow in their wake, is the person trying to move behind him

Daniel swiftly turns around, eager to get on the floor as a song he loves starts playing, and with that same movement, crashes into that person, all his drink spilling out from the glass, right onto the girl.

"Oh my god, I'm so terribly sorry!" he slurs, a blush creeping on his already pink coloured cheeks, just as she lets out a gasp.

The girl looks down, trying to see the damage, as if she's in slow motion, still recovering from the surprise of their crash. Her mind is just as slow to catch up to what happened, her lips widening into the shape of an O, when it finally does.

"Shoot," she mumbles – at least, that's what Daniel can read from her lips, as the music is way too loud for him to hear her.

"I truly am sorry," he repeats, and as if she only notices him in that very moment, she looks up at him.

"It's okay," she says, and suddenly a bright, warm smile spreads on her face, one that Daniel didn't expect. Not at all. He's figured there will be a long string of curses, an annoyed glance his way, eyebrows furrowed, a huff of anger maybe, then her storming off, maybe to the bathroom, to save what can be saved of her outfit. Instead, he got that smile, one that spreads warmth in his chest, one that makes his heart skip a beat, and one that he can't help but mirror.

With lips curving into his signature smile, he places the now mostly empty glass back on the counter. "Can I do anything to repay you for the mess I've caused?" he asks, turning his eyes back towards her.

"No, thanks, it's all fine. I was just about to go soon, anyway."

"I feel awful, though," he presses on, not really understanding why all of a sudden he feels scared about that plan – the one where she leaves soon. Maybe it's because if she leaves, she'll take that bright smile away from him, along with the warmth in his chest, and he will fall back into his depressed, desperate state of mind, drowning in sorrow. "Let me at least buy a drink, maybe a coffee, some other time, if you don't wanna stay here any longer."

She ponders about his offer for a second or two, weighing the options. Her friend has just called an Uber for the two of them, but she doesn't have to go with her, does she? She can stay a bit longer, it's not her that has to attend a wedding tomorrow, but her friend, so she can just go ahead, and she can stay with this handsome stranger. Maybe her top is drenched in something alcoholic, something that makes her skin sticky, she can already feel it, but it's not every day she meets a cute man, offering to buy her a drink. This might be her little meet cute, the one she's been dreaming about for as long as she's seen The Holiday, oh so many years ago.

"Give me a sec," she says in the end, turning on her heels, and making her way through the crowd towards her friend waiting at the entrance.

Daniel looks after her dumbfounded, not sure what's happening, and as the crowd closes behind her, he wonders if she'll ever come back.

She does, a couple minutes later – just enough time to make Daniel feel foolish for still standing around waiting in the exact same position she's left him in, but not enough time to make him actually do something about this awkward feeling.

His eyes light up at the sight of her, curiosity peaking in his whole body in the shape of electricity, or so it feels, about what she's going to say to his offer. Joyous, excited disbelief is still written on her face from what she's about to do, and in the next moment, she leans in closer to his ear. "I don't have to go, not really, so what was that you said about a drink?"

A mischievous sparkle in her eyes, and relief filling up his brain like fog. His much awaited, proper distraction, finally.

One drink turns into two, with the conversation just flowing. They soon move to a booth, to have a bit more privacy and comfort, and though they're sitting opposite each other, their feet are touching under the table, and they're both leaning in to be closer to each other. Neither can deny this magnetic attraction they feel, pulling them like one of them is a planet while the other is a meteor that can't fight the gravitational pull, both of them just awaiting that unavoidable crash.

Her fingers play with the empty glass, spinning it around, or circling the rim. He can't help but think about how much he wishes that he could touch those fingers. That he could be the one to stop their nervous – or excited? – fiddling. That he can wrap his much larger hand around hers, and see how it feels to have skin on skin contact with her. But it's only a wish.

He tells her about all the funny stories he can remember at the top of his head from the past couple years of his life, and revels in the sound of her laughter, ringing loud and clear even above all the noise and thumping beat. Tears form in her eyes from all the laughing, and she's clutching her sides, asking him to stop because she just can't breathe.

Daniel ends the story, and watches her with a smile on his face as she catches her breath, trying to calm the butterflies in his stomach. He doesn't recognise himself. Who is this person, and where's the heartbroken, pathetic remains of a human being that he's been this past week? He can't find that version of him anymore. A few hours spent in her company, and it's like she changed the person he was.

"Wanna dance?" she asks when she's regained her composure, nodding towards the dance floor.

Daniel raises an eyebrow, thinking of the question as more of a challenge, then nods eagerly, already moving to get up from his seat. She follows suit, and they join the people still dancing, sing-shouting the lyrics of a song he didn't even think he knows the words to.

He lets go of all inhibitions, and just enjoys being in this feeling. Who knows what tomorrow brings? Maybe he'll go back to his sorrow, pitifully sitting in his house, looking at the empty walls – well, empty except the nails that used to hold their shared pictures with his ex-girlfriend. That's really all that's left of her.

He's brought back to reality with her fingers gently touching his arm as she doubles over in laughter, and when he looks at her with a questioning look in his eyes, she just pants out "your dancing", pointing at him. He glances down, as if he could see exactly what she means, and though he's not sure what she found so funny, he just accepts gracefully that he's made her laugh, again, even if he did so unintentionally.

Hoping to be imperceptible in his motives, he moves closer to the girl with the help of his dance moves, wondering what might happen if he brushed his fingers against hers. In an act of who cares bravery, he just goes for it. She stayed with him for a reason, it's not like she doesn't want him to be there. And holding hands isn't that big of a leap to take, he's not trying to kiss her or something.

So his fingers move, and weave their way around hers until he's finally found a proper hold on them. She gives him a reassuring squeeze only a moment later, and her smile gets even wider, if that's possible. Daniel feels happiness fill his chest, a kind that he hasn't felt in a long time, not in his career, not in his personal life. Maybe there's a way to move past his ex and the past few years. Maybe all he needs is her.

And looking into those gorgeous, sparkling eyes, he feels like he's right. For once in his life, he's finally going to make the right decision.

Close to their third anniversary Daniel finds a little souvenir that he once got for his previous girlfriend, and the memories come flooding back. This time though, he's not filled with misery, thinking of all those months, and with a small grin on his face, he realises that his current relationship has already lasted more than the one he had with that girl did. For some inexplicable reason, he finds this reassuring. Exciting. Happy.

He slides down to the rug beneath his feet, pressing his back against the side of the sofa – the one he got quite fond of in the past few months, something that he won't ever admit to her, as she had to spend weeks to convince him to let her buy it –, and though his eyes are open, he doesn't really see what's in front of him.

His fingers play with the little figurine, and lets his mind travel back in time to that very day when he met the love of his life. All thanks to another girl he once loved. There's quite a bit of irony in that, he has to admit.

If he wasn't deep in sadness that day, being left by a girl, he wouldn't have gone to that bar. If he was still in a relationship, he would've been at home, enjoying time with his girlfriend of the time. Hell, he almost stayed at home anyway, in his sorrow, all alone. It feels like he won the lottery by that small decision that he eventually got up and went out on that fateful Friday night. He would've missed out on the almost exactly 1100 days of happiness he got just by knowing the girl who he spilled his drink on.

If there was still a her back then, and he wasn't single, there definitely wouldn't have been a them now. It's crazy to think, and makes him ponder if in an other universe, it all played out differently. He feels pity for the version of him in those other lives. This is definitely the best variety of how his life could have gone.

Then he hears keys jingling at the front door, signalling that this wonder of a woman he gets to call his own is just about to walk through and flash a smile worth a million diamonds at him.

"Well, thank God she broke my heart," he mumbles to no one in particular, as he pushes himself up from the floor, eager to see her as soon as possible.

a/n: i'm back from the dead again! gosh, can't believe how insane and busy this year has been for me, i'm so determined to write more now though, hopefully i can actually do it. until then, here we go with another short fic for all your reading pleasure! xx

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

taglist: @formulapierre

[lilyarchived]

behind closed doors [simon "ghost" riley]

a/n: URGH this idea literally came from a silly twitter picture, PLEASE SEND ASKS YOU CAN SEE HOW DESPERATE I AM FOR IDEAS!! Also thank you for the love on my first post, you guys are awesome!

warnings: gn! reader, reader has a breakdown, jealousy, cursing, angst (to fluff), 0.7k words.

summary: you overheard a conversation that included you, and it wasn't a positive talk.

"Ghost, please. leave me alone." you whimper as you walk away from your lieutenant just following behind you. “Not until you tell me why you’ve been avoiding me.” he replies in that same old gruff voice since the day you met. 

You were wandering through the base, having done all the tasks Price had assigned ya. Hearing a familiar deep voice in one of the rooms, you were about to enter but a flash of hesitation hit you once you heard your name. “[mumbled] and what [scrambled] about [scrambled] [Y/N]?” muttered soap, his voice an unserious tone. You gulp, wondering if the context was negative or positive. “What about them?” your heart drops, did he really think nothing of you? Of course not, you were overthinking, you assure yourself this was just ghost being ghost. “I don’t mean to pry ya, lad. Don’t you and [mumbled] have something going on?” your smile reappears after soap’s suspicion. You were about to burst in, smiling, before hearing ghost’s voice once more. “What? No. There was never ‘anything’ between us.”

 Oh. Tears blur your vision before hearing soap say “Ah. So you’re pretty serious about this one you’ve been talking to, huh?” You run away before your heart shatters even more.

“Don’t bullshit me Simon. I heard you in there with Johnny.” You finally turn around once you’re out in the training field, only this time it was empty. You’ve never seen it this empty. What a strange sight. You bring your hands up to your head, fuzzying your hair as you scoff and fold your arms, waiting for ghost to respond. He just looks at you with those same deadpanned eyes, only this time it was laced with a confused look. “What?” he voices in a hushed manner.

 You could only fall to the rough ground as you broke down in an out-of-breath manner. Hearing Simon's footstep’s rummage through and leveling with you to hold you in his arms, his grasp tight as he hushes your cries.

“[Y/N], did you get those files i asked yo-” he barely got to finish his sentence before you dropped them at his hands and began to make your way out. “Gotta go, I'll see you later, Kyle.” you utter, quickly shutting the door behind you. “What’s up with them?” Simon asked Kyle, eyes wide with how the normally-clingy [Y/N] was now being avoidant. “You cannot be that fucking stupid, LT.” Kyle remarked. “What?” ghost asked, voice slightly raised now. Gaz scoffs, “You shit talked them to Soap, you think they wouldn’t find out?” he added. “I never said anythi- fuck. I wasn’t-” Kyle just raised an eyebrow, letting his lieutenant explain himself. “I was telling Johnny how much i like them.” Kyle drops his pen whilst smirking, clearly intrigued now. “Go after them, idiot!” he yells, as Simon bolts outside, in search of you.

And now here you were, in his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. ‘How pathetic.’ you think. “Do I mean nothing to you? All those nights, those- stupid breaks I spent with you, getting to know you, nothing?” Simon’s heart aches as he hears your broken voice, feeling immense guilt creep up. “[Y/N], I was telling Johnny how I wanted to be with you.” your sobs quiet down, trying to process what he just said. “There’s no one else?” you whisper, silent cries slipping.

“Really? And what about that gyal you were talking to, Sarah? still want [Y/N]?” – “I don’t mean to pry ya, lad. Don’t you and Sarah have something going on?”

He was denying ever having ‘something’ with a different girl. It all seems foolishly funny now. You laugh through your tear stained cheeks as you punch Ghost on the chest playfully. "i hate you." your voice softer than before, if that were even possible. “It’s you, it’s always been you.” he explained, in that same old gruff voice since the day you met. Only this time, it held more emotion than ever.

[razorsadness]

i think of all the ghosts we all bring into every room with us. i may have more than most; or at least, i’m more sensitive to their presence. when i’m particularly haunted, it’s not that i’m wishing i were with them, it’s that they’re already there, & if you’re fucking me you’re also fucking my ghosts.

[September 14, 2021]

[withahappyrefrain]

opening the door for them or pulling their seat out before they sit down with bob would be delightful!

You had only been at the bar for ten minutes and already regretted all the decisions you made that led to this moment.

Why did you agree to a blind date?

First of all, it was with your friend's coworker. And no matter how much Natasha said it was fine, you couldn't help but be nervous.

You had heard stories of the squad Nat worked with, some good, some…not so good.

"It's not the Hangman guy, right?" You asked her when she first brought it up.

Nat pretended to gag, "You're my friend, not enemy. It's my WSO."

So there you were, awkwardly shifting in the chair at the bar as you looked towards the entrance for the sixth time, anxiety building up in your stomach and threatening to come out like bile any moment.

This was a horrible idea.

You tried dating, you really did. Various dating apps, going to different bars and strike up a conversation, but nothing seemed to work out. Sometimes you'd get ghosted, other times it would end with you curled up in a ball on your couch with a pint of ice cream while some stupid romantic comedy played in the background. You quickly learned that it didn't matter how great the first or second date went, folks will change their mind about you at the drop of a hat.

At least with Hinge or Tinder, you could see a picture of the person and speak before meeting them. With a blind date, you didn't have that, only the information your matchmaker had given you.

He went by Bob. He was a WSO. From the Midwest, specifically Montana ("Don't refer to his accent as Southern, he will go on a spield '' Nat warned you). Very sweet, but shy at first, which was why he supposedly had trouble finding someone.

He sounded nice. Potentially lovely. But you knew better by now, after years of failed attempts and broken hearts.

Sounding nice didn't guarantee anything.

You wondered what Nat had said about you. Probably that only your parents called you by your full name. That you and Nat met through college was also a given. She's had shit luck when it comes to finding someone, hopefully you can change that?

You checked your phone for the upteemth time. 7:12. He was supposed to be here twelve minutes ago. Surely he wouldn't stand you up, considering he had to work with Nat the next day?

The idea was surprising, but not shocking. Despite the intention of dating, some folks were quite careless when it came to a heart that wasn't theirs. You had been on that receiving end more times than you'd like to admit.

He probably thought the idea of going on a date with his coworker's friend was too risky, too weird. Perhaps he looked you up on social media and found an aspect of you that he didn't like. Thanks to numerous assholes, you could list off several potential reasons. Not pretty enough, not interesting enough, not affectionate enough, too affectionate, too clingy-

The list could go on and on. Thankfully it didn't. Thankfully, the sound of your name, said by a soft voice broke you out of your thoughts and made you turn around.

Oh.

He reminded you of the male love interests from those Old Hollywood films you watched with your grandmother as a small child. Sandy brown hair that was tousled in waves, piercing blue eyes that stood out against his sharp nose and rosy cheeks.

But above all, he looked kind. Truly kind. Maybe it was the lopsided, assuring grin or the way his cobalt eyes shone against the soft lighting of the restaurant.

"Bob?"

His thin lips formed into a saccharine smile as he stepped forward, extending a long arm out.

Holy shit, he brought you flowers.

You couldn't help but stare, wide-eyed and open mouth at the beautiful marigolds and orange sunflowers. You didn't know people still did that-no date had ever done so for you.

"I-I'm so sorry for bein' late. I swear, I'm always on time, I just wasn't sure which flowers to get ya. I-I mean, I knew you liked sunflowers, Phoenix told me that but I wasn't sure if yellow was overdone or if I should do something different and I'm really sorry-"

"You're perfect," your eyes widened at your own words, "The flowers I mean! The flowers are perfect and beautiful and traffic happens, it's okay!"

His smile widened at your reassurance and you swore it melted your heart. Heat rose to your face as you accepted the bouquet, your fingers brushing against his.

The two of you walked to your table. When Bob pulled out your seat for you, your heart fluttered.

There was no way this guy could be real. Why was he single?

Often, the conversation on a first date was awkward and full of long pauses.

Not this one. Not with Bob.

He asked you questions about yourself. Hell, he even asked follow up questions. And they were thoughtful.

Bob felt the same way.

Yes, he found you stunning. But you were much more than that. You were insightful, passionate, kind.

Why on Earth were you single?

Bob was determined to make everyone else's loss his gain.

"Would you want to go get ice cream?" His fingers were tapping the table, a nervous habit that you found adorable, "I mean, I get it if you're tired but if you're not, I'd love to continue?"

A downright dopey smile overtook your face as you nodded enthusiastically.

"I'd love to continue!"

You couldn't hide your surprise though when Bob all but jogged in order to hold the door for you.

"Oh, thank you! But you don't have to do that," you explained. His brows knitted together in confusion, the corners of his lips slightly downturned.

How could one man be so cute?

"Do what?" He asked, confusion all over his voice.

"Oh, um, holding the door?" Was it wrong to have brought that up? Oh God, was he going to think of you as rude?

Instead Bob smiled as he shook his head, "Nonsense. You should never have to hold the door."

Oh no. You were going to be down bad.

As the night went on, your nerves disappeared, giving Bob a sweet smile when he held the door open or pulled out your chair.

You didn't say anything when he held the car door open to drive you home, just that smile that made his heart flutter.

But when he opened the car door after arriving at your home, you stood instead of walking forward.

"I....I had a really good time tonight," the nerves came swelling back. You couldn't recall the last time you had clicked with someone so quickly.

"I did too," his smile warmed your body, "Maybe...if you'd like, we could-"

"Do this again?" God, you really hoped that's what he was going to say. You didn't think your heart could handle it otherwise.

"Yeah," he let out a nervous chuckle, "I'd love to do this again."

Your heart soared. Nat now had rights to the biggest "I told you so" but you couldn't find it in yourself to care at this moment.

"I'm not doing anything this Friday," containing your excitement was difficult. You were positive that big, dopey grin was plastered on your face right now.

Bob loved it.

"I'm not either." That was kinda a lie. Fridays were usually when his squad went out to the Hard Deck to celebrate the end of the week.

But Nat wouldn't mind and that was all that mattered.

You two exchanged phone numbers, hands clumsily typing as you both tried to sneak glances at one another.

Once your respective phones were back in your hand, it seemed like the front door was calling your name.

Not that you wanted to leave.

Offering him coffee at this hour would be silly, no one did that anymore.

"Can I walk you to the door?" His voice was timid, unsure.

"Please." It came out abruptly, as though you had lost control of your mouth, "I mean, yes. I would like that."

When Bob offered his arm, you accepted, linking yours with his.

"This is my stop," you motioned to the front door, earning a chuckle from Bob. God, he was so handsome. And his hands were so large. What would it be like to hold them?

"I had a really good time tonight. Probably the best date I've had in...a while." The dusting of pink that spread across his cheeks was downright darling.

"Could I-"

"If you don't kiss me, I might explode."

Normally you weren't one to be so bold. But the ache inside you was threatening to burst at the seams.

"Oh thank God," was all Bob could get out before pressing his lips to yours.

[potatoplace]

Whispers

Feysand x Reader

Poly!ACOTAR x Reader Masterlist

Story Summary: You meet Feyre and Rhys on your one Friday night off in a blue moon, dancing your heart out at Rita's. The three of you have a whirlwind romance, them going from your High Lord and Lady to the two people you spend the most time with. What happens when a snake whispers in your ear?

Warnings: manipulation, some mild angst (I don't think I made it painful enough...) and allusions to smut... shitty friend

Words: ~4.9k

Author's Note: this is a request from @loving-and-dreaming!! I changed it up a tiny bit, mainly in the way the friend was shitty to reader, so I hope you still like it! ALSO the friend is named Taylor because my ex bestie was named Taylor and uhhh 'convinced' my bf (her ex (she said it was okay!!!!)) into breaking up with me and 'dating' him... so... same vibes tbh. THE SNAKE BIT. IM SORRY MISS SWIFT. IT JUST WORKED. YOU ARE NOT THE INSPO FOR SHITTY FRIEND. So now that that's out of the way... Enjoy!!

18+ only pls

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

Your relationship with your High Lord and Lady was… fast paced, to say the least.

You had met one night, dancing your worries away at Rita’s, instead of pouring the drinks, a rarity for you on a Friday night.

You’d had your arms above your head while you swayed to the beat, eyes closed and listening to the music when a pair of slender hands rested themselves on your waist, a warm body pulling up behind you.

Opening your eyes, you were face to face with the most handsome High Lord, possibly the most handsome male you had ever laid eyes on. His violet eyes sparkled with mischief, especially once the hands resting on your waist began to trail upwards, his eyes tracking their path as they made their way to rest just underneath your breasts, teasing the exposed skin there.

If you had to venture a guess, you believed it was your High Lady behind you, her fingers playing along the edge of your tiny, tiny shirt.

“Having a good night, sweetheart?” A sultry voice asked in your ear, lips close enough you could feel her warm breath. A delightful shiver raced down your spine, and if your High Lord’s eyes were any indicator, they had both noticed.

You turned in the female’s arms, putting your High Lord to your back, an opportunity that he didn’t waste as he closed in the space, his own hands resting on your hips now.

It was your High Lady, as beautiful and breathtaking as ever. Her blue eyes sparkled in delight when your arms came to loop around her neck.

“I am now,” you said coyly, grinning up at her.

“Hmm…” Your High Lord hummed against your neck, lips already ghosting over your pulse point, greedily scenting you. “I could say the same, couldn’t you, Feyre?”

“Definitely, Rhys,” Feyre sighed happily, and leaned forward slowly, eyes locked on your lips.

You closed the distance, the alcohol in your system making you bold- after all, this was your mated High Lord and Lady, never in a million years did you think they would be interested in you. It was rare enough to be mated, even rarer for said couple to be open to added partners outside of the bond.

Her lips were so, so soft, and the way her hands tightened on your sides had you deepening the kiss, tongues beginning to dance with each other.

Rhys’s hands slowly moved, coming to rest over the swell of your ass and squeezing gently before returning to your hips. His mouth, though…

His mouth had already sucked a couple of dark marks along the expanse of your neck, claiming you as theirs for the night.

Feyre broke away from you, breathing heavily as she took in your flushed face with lust drunk eyes.

��Want to make this night even better?” Feyre offered in a breathy voice, and that alone was enough to convince you.

“Yes,” you breathed, eyes already stuck on her lips again.

That was all your High Lord needed to winnow the three of you away, straight into an attractively furnished bedroom.

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

The next morning, you awoke, tucked between two warm bodies, their arms wrapped over you and your legs intertwined.

You attempted to free yourself quickly and quietly, but their arms around you were like a vice, and you couldn’t seem to get your legs free.

“Mm, good morning,” Rhys said into your ear, his voice thick with sleep. He was at your back, and obviously aroused, if his hardness pressing into your back was anything to go by.

Your cheeks flamed, you had hoped to be gone before you were kicked out, but it was too late now.

“Good morning,” you whispered, attempting to not wake the High Lady, still sleeping peacefully in front of you.

Rhys nuzzled into your neck, placing a soft kiss just under your ear. “Were you trying to leave?”

Your cheeks reddened even further- now you had been caught attempting to leave before they woke.

“Yes…”

“Feyre,” he said, more loudly than before. “Feyre, our little lynx was trying to leave before we woke up.”

Feyre’s eyes flew open, and her lips automatically fell into a pout. “Why would you do that, little lynx?” She asked, a hand coming up to caress your face. “Did you not have a good night?”

The sadness in her eyes had you instantly replying, “No, no, I just… thought you might want me to leave before the morning.”

“And why would we want that, sweetheart?” Rhys asked, running one of his hands along your side soothingly. “I know that I had a wonderful night with you.”

“And I did too,” Feyre hummed in agreement, her thumb smoothing across your cheek bone. Your eyes fluttered shut, their soft touch so, so nice.

“I did too,” you admitted quietly.

“So what’s the problem, little lynx?” Feyre asked, tapping on your cheek to get your eyes to open.

You bit your lip as you took in what they’d said. “There isn’t one, I suppose…”

Feyre smiled brightly, leaning in for a gentle kiss. “Have breakfast with us then?” She asked hopefully, that same sparkle from last night in her eyes.

You couldn’t help but smile back, answering, “Yes, I’d love that.”

“I’ll get to cooking,” Rhys said, but turned your head to him for a soft kiss of his own before throwing the covers off of himself, standing tall with pride as your eyes greedily took in his naked form. He smirked playfully at you before going to their wardrobe and throwing on a pair of sweatpants and a shirt, then left their bedroom.

Feyre’s soft hand on your waist got you to turn back around, facing the beautiful female in front of you. “Did you want some different clothes to wear?” She asked, hand tracing a pattern on your skin.

“Yes, that would be nice, Feyre…” you trailed off.

Fuck it, you thought, and snuggled further into Feyre’s embrace. Her arms tightened around you, and you sighed contentedly as your face rested just above her breasts, head tucked beneath her chin.

“Can we stay here for a little bit?” You asked quietly, shy even though the two of you had been so intimate last night.

“Of course, little lynx,” Feyre assured softly, one of her hands running up and down your back slowly.

The two of you had almost fallen asleep again when Rhys came back into the room, chuckling when he saw the two of you wrapped in each other.

“Come on, ladies,” he said amusedly, slowly peeling the blankets off of both of you, making you both whine at the loss of heat. He sighed before replacing the blanket. “Breakfast in bed?”

“Yes, please, Rhysie,” Feyre answered, pressing a sleepy kiss to your head.

“Thank you,” you said, your words muffled by Feyre’s skin.

Rhys returned a few minutes later with two breakfast trays, and you and Feyre finally had to sit up against the headboard. He placed a tray over both of you, and grabbed two extremely soft shirts, handing one to each of you before leaving to grab his own food.

You blushed and thanked him, sliding the shirt over your head and taking in the breakfast he had made.

Chocolate chip pancakes, little sausages, and orange slices, as well as a mug of tea.

“Thank you for breakfast,” you said once he returned to the room, quickly sliding under the covers and placing his own tray over his legs. Feyre hummed in agreement, a bite of pancake already in her mouth.

“Of course, little lynx. We don’t want you to leave hungry, after all,” he replied, smiling at you.

“In fact…” Feyre began. “We don’t want you to leave at all."

Your breath caught in your throat, taken aback by such a quick suggestion.

“No, no, I’m sorry,” Feyre laughed, a gentle hand on your back. “I meant, we would like to continue… this. Date, even,” Feyre suggested.

“Oh,” you said nervously, a hand rubbing the back of your neck. “I, uhm… I think I’d like that.”

“Good, we’d like it too,” Rhys said sincerely. “Now, eat up little lynx.”

You did as he said, comforted by the fact that the two of them liked you enough to want to date you. The High Lord and Lady. Date you.

“Now now, none of that sweetheart,” Feyre said in a slightly disapproving tone.

“What?” You asked, eyes wide as you looked at her.

“Shit. I’m so sorry, love, I accidentally used my daemati powers,” Feyre apologized, her head in her hands. Your cheeks flamed, she had heard that?

“We’ll get your mental shields strong enough that we can’t even break in, don’t worry sweetheart,” Rhys reassured you. “And we will be very, very careful to stay out of your mind, okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed. Having your mental shields trained would be good, anyways. “And it’s okay, Feyre, you didn’t mean to.” You comforted her with a soft kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you, little lynx. I will be so careful, I promise.”

You smiled brightly at her, then turned back to your food.

“These pancakes are really tasty Rhys.”

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

That night, you had a shift at Rita’s, thankfully with your best friend, Taylor. You needed to tell her about last night.

So you did.

And she happily listened, up until the part where they’d asked you to date them.

“Really?” She asked incredulously. “Are you sure they wanted to date you?”

“Yes, they made it very clear, Tay. Is it… really that crazy to believe?”

Taylor shook her head and giggled. “No, no, it’s just that I thought they might have meant it in a ‘let’s be fuck friends’ kind of way. But it’s good to know that it’s romance they want!”

You nodded your head in agreement, but a small seed of doubt had already planted itself in your gut. “Yeah, it is.”

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

For your first date, Rhys and Feyre took you out to Sevenda’s- they even rented the whole restaurant for the night, so you would be as comfortable as possible. It was absolutely perfect, the food was delicious and you found that you really did get along with the pair. You were able to banter with them, and make little jokes here and there, like you had known them for a long time, not a week. You loved art like Feyre did, seeing beauty in every corner of the world- you worked with pottery, she worked with paints. Rhys had the same love of the stars and planets as you did, both of you were able to lose yourselves in a conversation about the various constellations and planets that had been discovered so far.

And, of course, the three of you got along very well physically.

Something about the sex you had with them was just… magical. Right. Like all of the other times you’d had sex before were the warm up for being with the both of them, absolutely losing yourself in the giving and receiving of pleasure.

The next shift that you had with Taylor, you gushed about the date, how perfectly it had gone, and how you had a group date and two individual dates set up with the two of them in the next week.

“I feel so lucky, Tay. Like all of the hardships in my life happened to lead me to this moment, this relationship,” you rambled, before realizing you had been talking about them for almost the entirety of your break.

“I’m happy for you, Y/N,” Taylor said, smiling brightly at you.

You returned the expression. “Thank you, Tay. Well, we should probably get back to work.”

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

Two months later, you were convinced you were in love.

Your High Lord and Lady had become Rhys and Feyre, who had become your Bat and Star.

You had never truly gotten over how beautifully Feyre shined when she climaxed, and you never expected to.

Rhys had told you he felt the same when you floated the thought his way one night, both of you looking down at Feyre shining, just for the two of you, with so much love in your eyes.

“I just love them so much, Taylor. I can’t… I don’t think I can keep myself from saying it much longer,” you confessed, wringing your hands together as the two of you stood in the alleyway behind Rita’s.

“But, maybe you aren’t saying it for a reason…?” Taylor suggested. “I mean, they are mated… How could you compare?” She asked innocently, horror crossing her face when she met your eyes. “Oh, Y/N, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

Tears pricked at your eyes anyways, knowing that she was right. “I know, I know how you meant it. It just… hurts to be reminded of that sometimes.”

Taylor sighed as she looked at you, a little bit of pity in her eyes. “I’ll cover the bar for ten more minutes, take a little time, okay Y/N?” She suggested gently, patting your arm.

You nodded. “Thank you, Tay. I’ll see you in a few.”

She knocked on the back door, the security guard opening it for her and letting her back inside.

Once the door had shut, you placed your head in your hands. Taylor was right, they are mated.

That didn’t mean they couldn’t love you, though.

With that thought in mind, you wiped the corners of your eyes, clearing any lingering tears, then closed your eyes and took a few deep, steadying breaths before knocking on the door yourself, returning to your spot behind the bar.

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

“Move in with us.”

“I- what?”

“Move in with us.” Feyre said it, this time.

“Three months is a little… fast to move in…?”

Rhys chuckled lightly. “I told you she’d say that, Fey.”

Feyre shook her head. “You can move in here and keep your apartment until you’re sure you want to stay with us, if that’s what you’re worried about little lynx.”

“Hm… okay. Yes, I’ll move in with you,” you confirmed, and Rhys picked you up and spun you around, and once he’d set you down, Feyre wrapped her arms tightly around you and began peppering kisses all over your face, only stopping once you were giggling and lightly pushing her away from you.

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

It had been a month since you had moved in, and you had no doubts in your mind that this was where you wanted to be.

The night you moved in, you cooked a meal for the two of them, and confessed your love to the both of them.

They had not returned the words, but their actions and promise that they were well on the way comforted you just the same.

Taylor, however, seemed to think differently.

“That’s what people say when they know they don’t love you, Y/N. Don’t you think they feel obligated to say that to you? I mean, they did offer for you to move in… it would be pretty cruel of them to ask you to move out so quickly.”

Your heart sank into your stomach, doubt and shame and embarrassment washing over you in crashing waves. If Taylor didn’t think it was working…

“But… we spend so much time together,” you started.

“Because you’re always around them,” Taylor countered, giving you a pointed look. “Try spending less time together, and if they seek you out, then they actually like you. If they don’t… I’m sorry, but I would start moving my things back into my apartment, if I were you,” Taylor said sadly, patting you on the back as tears streaked down your face.

She went back into Rita’s, leaving you crying in the alleyway behind the bar.

She’s right. I should pull away some, and see if they follow.

So you did. Over the next week, you spent more time in the pottery studio than you had in the past month, throwing yourself into making a beautiful vase, detailed with the constellations you saw every night, gazing at the stars with your lovers.

Just thinking of them when they weren’t in the room made tears well in your eyes.

You had stopped spending so much time during the day in Rhys’s study as he worked, after all, he had only asked you to join him on a few occasions- you were the one who had made it a near daily ritual.

Your evenings before work were, of course, spent at the pottery studio instead of Feyre’s studio, giving her some much needed air, clean of your presence.

You heart broke every night, returning to their townhome- because, after all, it was their townhome, not all of yours.

If they had noticed you retreating, they hadn’t said anything. Hadn’t noticed a single time you had pulled away from them, spent less time with them.

Every night that you warmed their bed, you felt a piece of yourself die inside.

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

“If you’re that miserable with them, Y/N, maybe you should break up with them,” Taylor suggested, her annoyance evident. “I’m getting tired of listening to you whine about how little they notice you.”

“Hey,” you said, tears welling in your eyes- a near constant for you, after the past two weeks.

Taylor sighed. “I’m sorry, that was rude. But honestly, Y/N. It hurts for me to see you like this almost every night.”

“I know, I’m sorry Tay. You shouldn’t have to deal with this,” you sniffled, wiping at your teary eyes.

“Just… get ready to work again, break is almost up, okay?”

You nodded, even though she couldn’t see, already having knocked on the door and facing away from you. You let yourself sniffle for a couple more minutes before heading back inside.

Feyre and Rhys had entered the bar while you were away, already having stuck up a conversation with Taylor.

She’s cuter than you, maybe they’re bored of you and moving on to someone better, your brain hissed at you, and you felt like you were going to be sick.

You rushed over to your manager before the two of them could spot you, and begged “Can I please go home early? I feel like I’m going to hurl all over the place.”

Your manager looked you up and down, and took in your teary eyes and a hand covering your stomach. “Get home safe, girl,” she said, opening the back door for you.

“Thank you, I will.”

You rushed back home- your home, not the one you had been sharing with Rhys and Feyre. When you reached your door, your threw it open and slammed it behind you, sliding down against it and collapsing into yourself, sobbing pathetically.

You couldn’t do this anymore.

Taylor was right, you needed to break things off- but you didn’t think you could bear to do it, not with them in front of you.

After some time had passed- an hour, maybe two- you managed to drag yourself into your bedroom.

You hadn’t realized how barren it looked in here, without all of your clothes and favorite blankets.

It was empty, just as your hopes for a future with your perfect Bat and Star felt.

You cried yourself to sleep, hugging your knees tightly to your chest as you felt your world break apart.

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

The next morning, you were more exhausted than when you went to bed.

You had slept like utter shit that night, tossing and turning and crying.

You had shed so many tears, the Sidra probably had a new tributary by now.

Nothing made you feel better, not the bath that you forced yourself into, or the tea you made for yourself.

You were sitting on your couch in the living room, wrapped in a green blanket- your least favorite one, but the purple and blue ones that you liked so much more reminded you so strongly of your lovers’ eyes that you couldn’t stand to look at them.

Tears were still streaming down your cheeks when a knock came at your door- patient but firm.

You stayed where you were, unable to move, let alone walk to the door.

Another knock, this time a bit more impatient.

Still, you didn’t move.

Another, almost… frantic?

Another, hard, nearly shaking the door in its frame.

You still couldn’t move.

“Y/N? Are you in there?” Came Feyre’s soft voice, tinged with worry.

You said nothing, hardly even breathed as tears continued to carve a permanent path through your skin.

“Y/N, I can hear your heartbeat, just let us in, please?” Rhys asked, his voice more demanding than Feyre’s but filled with panic.

You couldn’t move, not one muscle.

One more clearly frantic knock, before someone- Rhys- tapped on your mental shields.

He had spoken the truth, that you would be able to keep them out. You kept them out now, terrified to know what they were going to say.

“Please, little lynx, just let me in, we're worried about you,” Rhys begged into your mind.

And that broke you. Your walls collapsed, and Rhys entered carefully, his presence wrapping around your mind as he did.

“Oh, little lynx,” Rhys cooed, his arms wrapping around you as Feyre came to sit behind you pulling you into her arms. “None of those thoughts are true, my love.”

They had winnowed in.

They were worried about you enough- cared enough- to winnow into your home to check on you.

You sobbed, collapsing back into Feyre as your arms wiggled out of the blanket and pulled Rhys towards you, burying your face in his chest.

You cried for- you weren’t even sure, it had been so long.

But Feyre and Rhys stayed, physically and mentally wrapped around you the entire time, whispering sweet nothings and reassurances in your ear, in your mind.

Eventually, you quieted down, and your tears dried. It was only then that you let yourself pull away from Rhys’s solid, comforting chest and look them both in the eyes, mortified at your behavior.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologized, wiping at your eyes.

“What are you sorry for, little lynx?” Feyre asked, pushing your hair back from your face gently.

“For- for being such a big baby,” you said, more tears, somehow, welling in your eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart. You have nothing to apologize for. That snake however…” Rhys hissed, and it was then that you remembered they had been in your mind, seeing every horrid interaction and thought you’d had in the past two weeks.

“Taylor was just trying to help me,” you explained, sure that your friend had done no wrong.

“No she wasn’t, little lynx,” Feyre sighed. “When you told us you loved us, how did you feel afterwards, when we told you we just needed a little more time?”

You thought back to it- “Happy. I was so, so happy.”

“And after you talked with… Taylor?” Rhys asked.

Your face scrunched. “Like… like you guys had lied to me…” you confessed, so ashamed that you had ever felt that way about them.

“And were there other times that she tried to dull your happiness?”

You sniffled as you nodded.

She… Taylor, your own friend… had betrayed you.

“I’m so sorry, darling,” Rhys said, kissing your forehead gently. “I wish it wasn’t true.”

“I… I need to talk to her. Will you come with me?” You asked shyly, peering up at the both of them through your lashes.

“Of course we will, little lynx,” Feyre agreed, already helping unravel the rest of your body from the blanket.

Once you were free, you stood up, surprised at how much their kind, reassuring words had helped lighten your fears.

“Before we go…” Rhys started.

“We… well, we had been trying to plan a special night to tell you, but…”

“I love you,” the two of them said in unison.

And just like that, your heart was soaring.

Tears streamed down your face, but these ones were happy, and you pushed yourself into their embrace, one arm around each of them. “I love you too,” you mumbled in a watery voice, making both of them laugh softly.

“We know, little lynx. And we will spend so, so long proving it to you, whenever you need us to,” Feyre promised, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“In or out of the bedroom,” Rhys added with a smile, pressing his own lips to yours. “Now, let’s go teach that little snake a lesson.”

“Rhysand,” Feyre warned, smacking him on the arm. “You will let Y/N say what she wants, and then if she feels it’s appropriate, you can scare the shit out of her.”

Rhys made a pouty face, and you couldn’t help but giggle. “If you don’t get to scare her, I’ll make you whatever food you want for dinner tomorrow night.”

His frown turned to a bright smile. “Sounds good, little lynx. You know it’ll be soup you make, right?”

You merely shook you merely shook your head at him. Of course you knew, it was his absolute favorite dish you made. And you wouldn’t tell him now, but you’d be making it either way.

You loved the soup too, after all.

The three of you made your way to Taylor’s apartment quickly, your blood filled with rage at the way she had manipulated you. And for what?

You made Rhys and Feyre stand at the end of the alley while you knocked on her door, wanting to have this conversation as privately as you could.

The door swung open, revealing a well rested Taylor.

“Wow, you look like hell,” Taylor greeted, opening the door wider and letting you inside.

“Thanks…” You said, disappointed in your friend already.

“Did you break up with them?” Taylor asked once she had shut the door.

“No.”

“Why not?” Taylor asked angrily. “They hardly pay you any attention at all, why would you stick around to be with them for hardly anything?”

“Why do you care so much that I break up with them, Taylor?” You asked venomously, done with her insulting your lovers.

“Because, they’re hurting you!”

“No, they aren’t Taylor. You know who has made this relationship so rocky? You,” you spat at her.

“Because you don’t deserve them!” Taylor shouted at you. “I deserve them, not some stupid little twit like you!”

Your eyes widened, and you shook your head. “I cannot believe you,” you scoffed. “You did all this because you were jealous of me?! Do you have any idea of how fucked up that is?!”

“It’s not fucked up if the person you’re doing it to is a skank,” Taylor spat.

And you slapped her.

Hard.

Hard enough to whip her head to the side, redness blooming on her skin.

“Don’t speak to me, ever.”

And with that, you turned on your heel and left her apartment, slamming the door behind you.

“I’m scaring her,” Rhys declared when you reached them. “No one can talk to you that way.”

“I know, Rhys. That’s why I slapped her. But feel free to scare her anyways, bitch deserves it. Just scare,” you said, pushing your body into Feyre’s arms and relaxing in her firm hold.

“Understood, love.”

A scream came from the direction of Taylor’s apartment.

“Every time she looks in the mirror, she sees a shadowy figure behind her,” Rhys explained, laughing to himself. “If she looks too close it starts to get disturbing features, too.”

Feyre shook her head, clearly disapproving, but also amused.

“Just make it stop in a month or two, okay my bat?” You asked him, a hand on his arm.

He turned to look at you, a grin spreading over his lips. “Of course, little lynx. Whatever you want.”

“… Whatever I want?” You asked, grinning up at him.

“Anything at all,” Feyre whispered lowly in your ear.

“Can we… go home?”

In an instant, the three of you were back in your bedroom. The only one you needed, from now on.

“Bath?” You asked next, and the two of them began stripping you of your clothes in an instant, making you giggle at them. “All of us?”

“Of course, sweetheart, we just wanted to get you ready first,” Feyre said, pressing soft kisses to your neck.

“We have so much to make up for, including us letting you pull away, darling. You may just be stuck in this room with us until dinner tomorrow night,” Rhys teased as he rid himself of his pesky clothing, turning to Feyre next, who reluctantly gave up her spot sucking on your neck to let him undress her.

“Good, I’ll accept nothing less,” you said, giggling when Rhys hoisted you into his arms and speed walked into the bathroom, where the tub was already filled with steaming water. He gently set you in, before climbing in himself, followed by Feyre.

“Let’s start with getting you squeaky clean, and free of all those sad, sad thoughts, only filled with how much we love you,” Feyre crooned into your ear as she slowly lowered you so you were mostly covered by the water, in between the two of them.

“That sounds perfect, my sweet star,” you sighed, relaxing into their caring hold, feeling safe for the first time in two weeks.

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff

[lalacliffthorne]

🪽 ... then we go down together. 🪽

Azriel x Reader

part I part II

summary: confessions, more of those damn arrows. and a masquerade ball.

notes: I am so sorry. this damn thing just kept getting longer and longer; I think I stopped looking at the word count somewhere after 14k, but splitting it again wasn't really an option, so... sorry? *winces* it just had to fit everything!! we've got more smut, more drama, more Azriel - because honestly, he needs his own warning at this point - and that just required an unholy amount of words. so make yourself a cuppa, cozy up comfortably, and binge this ridiculously long second part.

______________________________________________________________

Wind howled around the cabin, the woods outside pitch black, visible through the cracks in the shutters as I stared at Azriel's face.

He'd pulled me into his body sometime in the last hour, still half asleep, his hand sliding in between my legs and dragging me through the sheets, hauling my bare leg over his hip before slipping his arms around waist and pulling me close until my bare body was completely pressed against his – stomach against stomach, thigh against thigh, chest against chest.

Something hitched and dipped under my ribs, and trying to swallow against the quick flutter, I let my gaze trail over Azriel's face. I could feel the bandages wrapped around his ribs pressing against my bare skin. I had changed them some time ago, reapplying the paste onto the stitched wound that already didn't look as sickly anymore, while Azriel had trailed slow kisses over my neck, his hands lazily roaming my sides, making focusing nearly impossible.

Now, his eyes were piercing mine, a little tired but watchful and steady as always. I was so close I could see the golden specks swimming in the clear amber of his iris, could see the pale freckles on the bridge of his nose. His gaze slowly dragged over my face, and I almost shivered under the intensity of it.

Somehow, Azriel had always been the only one who's stare could do this to me. Cause my skin to tingle just with the way his eyes pierced mine, deep, unreadable, swallowing me whole in their depths.

I tried not to think about that too much.

Azriel's fingers slowly ghosted over my back, following my spine, his rough skin causing my heart to hitch and breath to tremble, and his iris shifted, becoming a shade deeper, that blazing fire flaring to life as his eyes tracked over my face.

My heart toppled, and I blinked. Then I mumbled: “You know what I've been wondering?”

Azriel's eyes dragged over mine, silent, waiting.

I stared at him, slowly frowning softly.

"Since you're basically half bat, could you sleep upside down?”

Azriel blinked. Then his eyes narrowed, and I felt my lips curve upwards until I was grinning widely.

“There are beams up there. If you weren't patched up in six different places, I'd say give it a tr-“

I broke off with a soft squeal when Azriel rolled me around in one smooth movement and dragged my back into his chest; his arm locked around my waist, pinning me against his chest as his tall body curved around mine, and snorted giggles started breaking from my throat when his fingers dug into my ribs. I squirmed, my heart soaring from laughter, and Azriel nipped at my jaw.

“Watch it,”, he mumbled against my skin, and my heart dipped over at the sound of his deep, smooth voice.

“Or what?” I twisted my neck to grin at him, cheekily, challenging, but my breath got stuck in my throat when my eyes met Azriel's.

Slowly, a lazy twinkle spread through his iris.

My lips parted with a sharp inhale when he dropped his head and dragged his lips over my neck. Then he pressed a slow, lazy kiss against the underside of my jaw, and a soft shudder travelled through my body.

Azriel gave a rough sound deep in his chest, and one of his hands slid up and wrapped gently over my throat to hold me still as his nose dragged over my skin.

Something twisted and tightened in my stomach, a hoarse whimper built in my chest, and my head fell to the side when Azriel started pressing hard, hungry kisses onto my neck, his teeth dragging over my skin and nipping just firmly enough for my breath to shake.

My eyes rolled back as my lids fluttered, and I squirmed in his hold, something beginning to twist harshly in my lower stomach when Azriel dragged me closer into his body. Then his hands slid down and closed over my breasts.

A broken moan fell from my lips, and my back arched as Azriel's scarred skin brushed over my nipples, causing them to tighten. A soft rumble built in the shadowsinger´s chest, and he kissed my neck harder as his hands began to palm and tug at my breasts, causing my head to fall back and something twisting and tightening in my lower stomach as I whimpered.

My hips pushed back as I arched into Azriel's touch, my ass brushed against him, and something hot washed over my insides when I felt his hard cock press up against me.

Azriel growled deeply against my neck, his teeth nipping at my skin as his fingers pinched my right nipple, and my eyes rolled back at the sharp twinge of pleasure that shot right down to where I could feel wetness begin to pool between my legs.

Az lightly bit down onto my neck before kissing the spot lazily, his tongue dragging over my skin as his right hand slipped off my breast and slowly slid down over my stomach.

I whimpered softly when his rough skin skimmed over my hip bone, my back arched, and Azriel's nose brushed over my jaw as his hand slipped into my panties. I caught a glimpse at his face from the corner of my eye, iris blazing, gaze fixed onto my face and lips parted, and something tightened harshly in my stomach. Then rough fingers brushed over my clit, and my spine melted as my head fell back and Azriel groaned hoarsely into my skin as his thumb slid over the swollen nub.

Pleasure zipped through me, twisting my insides as I moaned thickly. My body writhed in Azriel's grip, trying to escape and move closer to the waves rolling through my body at the same time, and the shadowsinger gripped me tighter as his fingers slid through my folds, beginning to lazily circle my clit. I whimpered as his other hand palmed my chest and his nose dragged over my jaw, his uneven breath hitting my skin.

Azriel gave a deep, rough sound, and the pad of one of his fingers slid over my entrance.

My hips bucked, and my eyes rolled back into my head when Azriel slowly slipped one finger into me.

Azriel's arm tightened around me, pinning me into his chest as his gaze burned into the side of my face. Then he slowly curled his finger, his palm dragging over my clit, and my body shuddered.

My hand flew up to bury in Azriel's hair as my head fell back, to hold onto something, anchor me down, because I felt like I was slipping away. Azriel groaned against my neck, his teeth catching onto the shell of my ear, and my back arched as a whimper broke from my throat when his nose traced over my skin. Then he started to slowly pump his finger.

My body twisted in his grip. My hand curled into his hair as a whimper broke from my throat and my mind swam with pleasure, and Azriel nuzzled his nose against my jaw, causing my hips to twitch and roll down as my insides fluttered. Then he eased in another finger.

A broken moan slid from my lips as I felt myself pulse, and Azriel growled, the sound rumbling through me. His fingers curled inside of me, hitting some spot, and my back arched as my lips parted soundlessly.

Heat rushed through me, washing over my limbs as slowly, a tightness built in my stomach, causing my insides to clench and tighten around Azriel's fingers as little by little, they picked up their pace, the heel of his palm pressing into my clit and causing my insides to twist.

My hips bucked down into his hand as Azriel's lips dragged over my neck, and he softly bit my jaw, like a soundless encouragement, his forearm wrestling my legs apart as his fingers pumped inside of me. I threw my head back, my chest aching as I felt the knot in my stomach grow tighter. My free hand dug into the pillow, clutched the sheets as I felt my lips part.

“Shit, I –“

The tightness pulsed without warning. Then it shattered.

My body arched, became boneless, bloomed into something shuddering and shaking as waves of white hot scalding pleasure rolled over me, and I trembled, shaking moans breaking from my throat as Azriel's hand rode me through the high, until my whole body spasmed and shuddering jolts of pleasure made me throw back my head.

Azriel slowly curled his fingers inside of me until I fell limp, breathing heavily. A whimper left me when he slid them out of me, his scarred skin brushing over my clit causing me to jerk.

Something was pulsing in my lower stomach, wetness pooling between my legs as I exhaled with a tremble and turned my head, something rising my chest when my nose brushed against Azriel's and I met his eyes, blazing with heat, glued to my face.

A deep sound broke from his chest, and Azriel leaned forward and crashed his lips onto mine.

I twisted to face him, my fingers sliding into his hair, and Azriel's grip around my waist tightened when I pulled him down and kissed him back feverishly, tongues exploring lazily as his hand slipped under my thigh and dragged it over his waist.

My breath caught in my throat as I felt his hard cock nudge against my panties, and Azriel groaned softly into my mouth, his arm wrapping over my thigh and ass as he started to slowly grind against me. I moaned as I felt myself flutter around nothing, heat pooling between my legs as I dug my fingers into his hair and rolled my hips to meet his, seeking for some sort of friction against the throb between my legs. Azriel licked over my tongue, nipping at my bottom lip before dropping his head and burying his face against my neck. His hot, heavy breath hit my skin as he kissed harshly down my throat, teeth grazing my skin, and my head fell back.

I tried to shift my hips down further, feeling frustration twist in my stomach, pulling tautly, and Azriel's fingers slid under my panties, pulling them to the side. His thumb brushed over my clit, my hips jerked and insides tightened, and Azriel groaned softly against my neck.

“Fuck.”

His deep, hoarse voice rumbled through me, and my stomach dipped over, hips rolling down desperately as he softly nipped my collarbone, body still lazily grinding up against me.

His thumb slid down through my folds like he was planning on letting go, and with a desperate whimper, I pushed my hips foward.

Azriel's cock slid up through my folds and over my clit, and my body shuddered.

Az grunted, the sound strangled as his hands dug into the flesh of my thigh, dragging it up higher. Then he rolled his hips, and my head fell back slightly when the head of his cock caught my clit.

Azriel groaned, fingers tearing at my panties, dragging them down my legs, spreading my thighs further and pushing closer as he breathed heavily against my neck. But the angle was not quite working, our bodies too close and yet not quite enough, hips grinding desperately, breathy moans and groans vibrating over my skin –

The shadowsinger growled in frustration, my hips shuddered, and I slid forward and pushed my leg over his side until Azriel rolled onto his back and pulled me with him.

A whimper caught in my throat and my eyes rolled back when Azriel's cock slid up through my folds. My hips bucked back as my knees settled next to his hips, and Azriel's hands pressed against my thighs, his head thrown back into the pillows.

My heart stumbled drunkenly as my eyes dragged over the curve of his throat, littered with bruises, dark hair tousled and sweaty, swollen lips parted and the gold of his iris barely visible through his heavily lidded eyes; and my hips stuttered and rolled down on their own accord.

My spine melted to liquid and my lips parted as I felt the head of Azriel's hard cock notch against my clit. A soft, strangled sound built in my throat, my legs shook, and I whimpered, shifting and rolling my hips.

Azriel groaned, the sound strangled and hoarse, his grip growing tighter, trying to pull me down as he threw his head back.

Sitting up slightly and pressing my hands onto his chest, I bit back a whimper as his cock slid through my folds again, the head nudging against my clit. I inhaled softly and sharply, my eyes fluttering as I stared at Azriel. His jaw was shifting, working as he gazed at me through hazy eyes, his fingers digging into my flesh so tightly, it would bruise.

I shifted my hips, then, slowly, I started moving, riding his cock sliding through my folds.

Azriel's heated gaze was fixed onto me, every muscle in his neck visible with strain, his chest solid with tension under my hands, so hard beneath me. I could feel his hips shifting, beginning to roll up to meet me, and a whimper built in my throat, my legs trembling when the head of his cock nudged against my clit, sending sharp jolts of pleasure through my body and making me throw my head back. A broken moan left me, and Azriel's eyes flashed.

My body slid back when he pushed himself up, his wings flaring, and my arms slid over his shoulders, my eyes rolling back when the angle shifted, his cock pushing against my clit and causing my insides to twitch as Azriel's lips crashed onto mine.

My heart swerved and soared, and Azriel dragged me closer, his hips rolling up into mine as his tongue twisted with mine, fingers digging into my waist, helping me sink up and down. My fingers dug into Azriel's hair and I kissed back, breathless, feverish, soft whimpers leaving me as my insides twisted and coiled, the friction tantalizing, not quite enough yet leaving my body twitching and writhing, too little yet too much at the same time, something building in my stomach, tighter, more fragile.

Azriel's fingers curled into my hair, pulling my head back, his lips dragged over my throat before he kissed my neck, deep, feverish; his arm tightened and pulled me down harder, and his voice reached me through the haze of pleasure, deep, low, vibrating through me in a hoarse order.

“Come for me.”

My insides twisted and shattered, and I arched into him, my muscles locking as my vision whitened and my body shuddered, became weightless, stars and matter and pleasure twisting through me until it was the only thing in existence.

I woke with a familiar scent filling my lungs.

My muddled senses needed a moment to catch up, understand why it felt like the warm, solid surface I was draped over was moving; rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. Then something in my chest dipped over.

I was sprawled over a warm body. My hands clinging to wide shoulders, face buried in the crook of a neck – and an arm wound around my waist, keeping me from sliding away to the side, holding me, just tightly enough.

My heart dipped and swerved, and I hesitated. Then I carefully raised my head, and my breath got caught in my throat.

Azriel's eyes were closed. He looked strange like this – unscowling, completely relaxed, off guard. No deep crease between his brows, jaw relaxed, lips parted slightly as he breathed steadily. He still looked a little sallow, but color was slowly returning to his cheeks. I could feel the calm rise and fall of his chest, moving my own as my gaze dragged over his dark lashes fanned against his skin.

I blinked, my heart skipped into my throat, and I carefully pulled my arms off his shoulders to slide off him, but Azriel's grip around my waist tightened, and a soft growl rumbled through his chest.

My gaze darted up, and my heart rose again when his eyes opened, the golden flecks in his tired iris melting together as Azriel glared at me.

Don't you dare move, his eyes seemed to say, and my breath hitched.

Barely suppressing the urge to swallow, I stared at him, my heart skipping high, and Azriel stared back, tired but steady, watchful. His eyes dragged over my face, and something twisted in my chest.

Even with tangled, messy hair and dark bags under his eyes, he was beautiful. So much so, it caused something to ache under my ribs.

Swallowing softly, I carefully rested my chin back on his chest and traced the pale shadow of freckles scattered over his nose with my eyes. Azriel's fingers started to slowly brush up and down my side. His touch was featherlight, causing waves of shivers to travel through my body as his eyes pierced my face, some of that flaring heat returning to his iris, and something pulsed in my chest. Warm, all-consuming; a rising feeling that seemed to seep into my whole body the longer I stared back at him, that raged and flared. And suddenly, something dipped over in my chest.

My breath hitched, and my heart dropped.

Oh.

I blinked, then I quickly turned my eyes away.

Suddenly, something was tightening around my throat.

Barely suppressing the urge to swallow, I pried myself out of Azriel's arm, its weight suddenly suffocating. Wrapping myself into a fur, I slid off the mattress, barely noticing the coolness of the floorboards under my bare feet.

Dread crashed over me like a tidal wave.

Shit.

I could feel Azriel's gaze on me, could see it sharpening from the corner of my eye as he straightened slowly, watching me silently. But I pretended not to notice, instead curling up tighter in the furs and shivering as I moved towards the fireplace where the last remaining embers were glowing gently. My eyes got caught at one of the windows, and something dipped in my chest.

Through the cracks in the shutters, I could see the first pale streaks of daylight. And suddenly, I realised how quiet it was. No rattling, no howling of wind.

In the soft blue light, the thick falling snow had turned into soft flocks, silently sailing to the ground. When I closed my fingers around my leathers, they were dry.

The storm was over.

“Our clothes are dry.” My voice sounded strange to my own ears, unbothered and vibrating with the lightest hint of a cheeky smirk that found its way onto my face without me prompting it as I looked over my shoulder and raised a brow. “Looks like we're getting out of here. Thank the Gods; no more cuddling.” The last part, I mumbled as I turned back ahead, barely suppressing the urge to swallow as tightness grew in my chest.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Azriel stare at me, and his eyes narrowed slowly. Then his voice vibrated through the cabin, deep, steady, matter-of-fact.

“You're scared.”

I stilled, and my heart dropped and fell. Then I turned to stare at him.

“What?”

Azriel rose to his feet, and I tried not to let my gaze dip, tried not to notice the way his muscles worked, his shoulders tense as his eyes pierced mine.

“You're scared.”

Something turned over in my chest.

Gods, how I hated him.

Hated how he could so easily read me when his face never gave away anything.  

I tried to fight the pressure closing around my throat, that squeezing feeling under my ribs as I stared at him. Then I did the only thing I knew how to do, the only thing that would make him stop looking at me like he did now and me forget what it was like when he stared at me like I might be beginning and end to everything.

Attack.

“I'm not scared.” I straightened, feeling my heart pound as I narrowed my eyes. “What is your problem? Because you clearly seem to have one. Specifically with me. What is it?” I raised my brows mockingly. “That I don't give a shit about control? That I can't just decide with my head, that I'm not all rational and controlled like you?”

Azriel's eyes flared.

“You have no idea what you're talking about.” His voice rumbled through the ground, so low and deep, it sent shivers down my spine. But I was too far gone.

Again, anger was flaring in my chest, raging, familiar – and finally something I could handle.

“It must be really fucking hard to always push everything down. Come on.” I glared at Azriel, feeling my lips curve into a bitter, challenging grin as I opened my arms lightly. “Get it all out! No one's here but me, and you seem to think I'm too emotional anyway, so you can't shock me! Hit me, shadowboy.”

Azriel was staring at me, his eyes blazing with fire, darkness swirling.

“What's getting the mighty shadowsinger into a twist, what's fucking with your head? Go on, enlighten me.” My breath was uneven as I balled my hands into fists, but Azriel just stared at me, completely silent.

Something twisted in my chest, and I screamed: “What's your fucking problem?!”

“That I cannot think straight with you around!!”

Azriel's thundering voice shook the cabin, and my breath caught in my throat.

My heart dropped. Then it stilled.

“What do you think why you're so fucking irritating to me?” Azriel's flaring eyes narrowed in on me as he stalked forward.

“You're under my skin, always. And I just can't seem to get you out. No matter what I do, you invade every fiber of my being, with nothing but a look or a touch or just your fucking presence in the room.” His iris was blazing. “You make me loose focus, you make thinking slow and impossible, and that's dangerous. Because I can't be distracted, because distraction means missing things, it means death. It nearly fucking killed the both of us! And yet, all I can do is find ways to focus on both you and everything else, because just the thought of not having you around makes me loose my fucking mind.”

His jaw tightened, causing the muscles in his cheek to shift as he pinned me to the spot with burning eyes.

“You are a weak spot in walls that I spent centuries building, and I'm still drawn to you like a moth to a fucking flame, because just thinking about staying away from you makes me ache. Because being near you makes everything finally make sense.”

Suddenly, breathing felt impossible.

My voice shook as I tried to latch onto something, anything. “Then why are you still always so fucking irritating -”

“Because you are stubborn and reckless,”, Azriel prowled towards me, his eyes flaring, “and you give me a heartattack every time you decide to tempt fate with that godsdamned smile!” He stopped himself short, jaw clenched and hands tightening into fists as he stared at me, gaze blazing. “Because you annoy the shit out of me, always challenging me. Make me jealous, because you see the good in people where I can only see the bad, because you have that godsdamned beautiful mind that twists everything into a plan, because you can bring people to their knees with just a grin.” His eyes flared. “Because it drives me mad how you look at me and how I seem to lose any ounce of control over myself whenever you're near. Because every time you grin at me, I need every wall I ever built to keep myself from pulling you in to to kiss you and fuck you until I'm the only one you´ll ever look at like that.”

I stared at him, feeling my heart flutter against my ribs like a caged bird while my breath hitched in my throat and my whole body tingled.

Azriel's jaw worked, his eyes burning amber as they pierced mine.

“You are my problem. Because you´re all I can think of, always. And I can't change it.” His gaze flared. “I don't want to change it.” He stared at me, and it almost looked like he was trying not to swallow as his eyes dragged over my face. “Not anymore. Not now that I know that I am under your skin exactly like you are under mine.”

My heart dropped, and I blinked.

“I don't –“

Azriel moved, and my breath caught in my throat, my heart toppling and rising when he stalked towards me, his eyes flaring.

“You don't what?” His gaze pierced mine, something swirling in its raging depths. “Don't know what I´m talking about?” Azriel's jaw worked, and he dipped his head to stare at me, iris blazing. “You know exactly what I'm talking about. And it scares the shit out of you.” His throat worked, then Az shook his head a little. “But I won't let you push me away just because you're scared.”

I swallowed, something pulsing under my ribs as I stared up at him, and Azriel stared back, steady, stubborn, unshakable.

“I'm not scared.” Somehow, my voice shook only a little, even as I felt something close around my throat. But I refused to back away, my fingers tightening around the furs wrapped around me as I glared up at Azriel, defiant, and just as stubborn.

Azriel's gaze burned into mine, and I knew, knew just from the way he didn't back down, just towered over me silently as his eyes steadily pierced mine, that he knew just as well as I did that I was lying through my teeth.

And that he could see right past the anger and defiance down to the reason why my heart was pounding painfully against my ribs.

I was scared.

I was terrified.

Because in the span of a night, my traitor of a heart had become his. Maybe parts of it had already belonged to him before, but everything that had happened since we had left for the mountains yesterday, everything I had said and everything Azriel had let slip through the cracks of his armor before laying it all out before me – had caused something to click into place.

Azriel, who never talked about anything that happened inside of him, had offered me everything. And it scared the crap out of me.

The shadowsinger blinked, and something softened in his stance, his shoulders dropping at little.

“Go on.” He stared at me, calm, steady. “Push me away. Scream at me.” A muscle in his jaw shifted as his gaze dragged over me face, and his deep voice was a little hoarse when he mumbled: “I'm still yours. The same way you're mine. Every bone in my body, every fiber of my soul. No matter what you throw at me. It all belongs to you anway. And I'm not going anywhere.”

Heavy pressure built in my chest as I stared up at him, clinging to the furs wrapped around me, and Azriel stared back, stubborn, firm, eyes swirling with a flaring blaze of emotion. Want mixed with need, hunger, hesitation and determination, and something else. Something that was burning and deep and all consuming, and that made my heart pulse against my ribs.

All out on the open.

Swallowing, I blinked and tore my eyes away from Azriel, pulling my pants from the back of the chair.

Carefully, I unbolted the door and dragged it open, moving back lightly when snow tumbled over the floorboards, down from where it had covered the porch; so high, it reached past my knee.

Slowly beginning to plow my way across the porch and down the steps, I breathed in the icy cold air and felt something in my chest tighten softly at sight of the pale blue light, the clouds opening over the mountains in the distance, allowing rays of thin morning light to filter over the woods. Snowflakes sailed silently to the ground, a few landing on my hair and nose, and I swallowed and tipped my head back to hold my face into the cold for a moment.

There was the sound of the door being pulled shut behind me, and when I looked over my shoulder, Azriel moved through the thick layer of snow on the porch, sheathing Truthteller. His eyes were piercing against the snow, his wings still patched up but the swelling going down.

He was still not back to his usual full strength, but it would be enough to winnow us back to Velaris.

Azriel's gaze found mine, and I quickly looked away when my heart rose against my ribs.

Something dipped gently in my chest as I stared up at the snowladen roof of the cabin, and I barely suppressed the urge to swallow.

Azriel moved down the steps, brows crunched against the snow sailing to the ground. He opened his mouth when a cold shiver slid down my back.

The hair at the nape of my neck rose. Something icy closed around my chest, and I turned around, my heart beginning to thump against my ribs as my gaze flitted over the still dark space between the trees.

“What?” Azriel's deep voice washed over me, and from the corner of my eye, I saw his shoulders tense.

I felt the whizzing sensation a second before an arm wrapped around my waist and hauled me out of the way.

A soft sound broke from my throat; my head whipped up, and my heart stilled, time slowing for a few heartbeats when I found Azriel's face an inch away, gaze piercing mine, his grip vice-like around me as my fingers dug into his biceps. Then his gaze moved upwards, and a deep, rumbling snarl built in his throat as his blazing eyes fixed onto the ash arrow that trembled in the railing of the porch where I had just stood.

Azriel whipped around, and I caught movement at the edge of the woods, just twisting out of the way before another arrow sliced through the air; I slid my swords out of their sheaths and turned with an angry growl, and quick and silent like shadows, dark shapes melted out of the treeline and stormed towards us.

I dodged the first blade slicing down through the air, catching it with my own swords and spun around, my blades barely missing the male's throat. He was too quick though, moving and ducking smoothly, and I slid through the snow, whirling up clouds of white as I pushed myself back onto my feet and turned, dodging and catching blades with mine, the impact vibrating through my bones. I caught a glimpse at swirling darkness and Azriel, his shadows whipping out, protecting him. But even though he was swift and agile, I could see he wasn't up to his usual strength, his eyes blazing with fury and snow clinging to his hair.

I dropped and whirled through the snow, slicing my swords over the back of two soldier's legs, causing them to collapse with deep groans, and I shot to my feet, my eyes meeting amber ones for the fraction of a second, deep and dark.

We had to get out of here.

Azriel snarled and kicked back a soldier storming towards him, his shadows whipping out in a wall as he turned, and I dodged a sword swiping down at me, trying to dart towards him. But as one, the soldiers seemed to understand and moved in, cutting off my path and driving us back.

It started a dangerous game. Again and again, they pushed us apart, attacking from all sides. They moved quickly, even in the deep snow, swift and coordinated, keeping Azriel from getting to me and me from getting to him. The shadowsinger's eyes were blazing with fury, his face twisted into a snarl, but every time I caught a glimpse at him, I saw his shadows protecting him from blows he would have easily dodged normally, saw his neck straining in a fight he would have usually finished within minutes.

The soldiers caught on as well. Their attacks became quicker, more daring, and something in my chest started rising. Began to pulse under my ribs, sent strength into my arms and hands, and fury made me snarl as I pushed against the cold and whirled around.

My blades slid over one soldier's throat, muscles working as I dodged another one's blow and sunk my blades into his chest, pushing and pulling them out, turning and slicing my swords over another male's arm before whirling around and sinking my blade into his neck, fighting my way towards the tall, towering figure shrouded in darkness. Azriel sliced his daggers over a male's throat before turning, I threw out my arm to grasp his hand and saw his shadows rising –

Something struck my back, throwing my body forward slightly.

My heart pulsed once in surprise. Then it slowed, and cold trickled over my spine.

I raised my head, and the world seemed to slow around me as pain lazily flooded my system. My gaze swept over the snow like caught in time before meeting another, gold like amber.

The pain spread, from the throbbing point in my back to my chest, and my vision swam, the world tilting around me. The amber eyes widened slowly as the snowed in earth closed in on me. Then my body hit the ground, the impact shaking my vision as the pain slowly grew more distant.

I caught one more glimpse at the amber eyes, in a face beautiful like death, filled with terror and raging fury before beginning to blaze with something so terrible, my heart shuddered. Then darkness exploded, and my eyes slid close.

I slipped into a strange, drowsy state where the world was vague and fuzzy. My eyes were too heavy to stay open, refusing my foggy mind's control, my limbs too tired to move. Sometimes, everything around me seemed just close enough to almost grasp it, but my body was too slow, too far away from my conciousness.

The pain was blurry. There was lots of it, radiating from my chest, drowning out anything else. I could feel hands, cradling my face, rough and scarred, a deep voice reaching through the fog, tense and panicked as something warm tugged frantically in my chest.

Then I was lifted off the cold, wet ground, into arms that smelled metallic like blood and like night chill and cedar underneath, their grip careful as they hoisted me up higher, adjusting me until I could feel my head roll to the side against a solid shoulder. Then the cool of shadows enveloped us.

I slipped away after. Time felt strange, sliding through my fingers, difficult to keep up with. I caught glimpses of a familiar foyer, and felt the deep voice vibrate through me, calling for someone, urgent, thundering, making something in my chest tighten. There were familiar scents washing over me, more voices, and a low snarl when hands slipped under me, the arms around me tightening their grip.

The pain grew, flaring through my body. It ripped me out of my head enough to feel the soft mattress beneath me, the scent filling my lungs, and the forehead pressed against my temple. It grew until it became almost unbearable, until my body did listen, twisting and writhing, a whimper tearing from my throat at the gentle hands pressed to the middle of my chest that felt like it was on fire. The dark presence at my side was gone, and I faintly caught onto a scuffle a bit away, and two other voices, talking against a deep growl.

After that, pain and exhaustion overwhelmed me. I only caught one more glimpse at the room, now quiet and calm, and fingers, long and slender and rough, wrapped around mine, something cool whispering over my cheeks, and the voice again, causing something to pulse gently against my ribs. It was vibrating with something I had never heard before now.

Beneath the fury, the anger and deep searing rage, there was fear.

“- you're not leaving me. Not now; there's no world in which you're not going to put up a fight and come back to me –“

Another voice, rich and smooth, interruped him, and I dozed off before I could try and squeeze his hand.

When I finally woke up, I felt like someone had dropped me midflight.

A soft garbled sound broke from my throat, somewhere close to a hoarse “Ow.”, and there was a quick call of my name somewhere to my right, deep and rumbling and soothingly familiar.

I blinked, feeling my brows crunch as my eyes tried to get used to the soft lighting. My chest was thumping like a second heartbeat, like someone had sent me flying with a kick powerful enough to split a boulder.

My head was heavy, and it took a while until the hazyness had drifted away enough for my gaze to focus onto a ceiling. My mind, still foggy, needed a moment to follow as my eyes drifted lower, over dark sheets which smelled achingly familiar and a room I didn't know. The curtains were drawn, there were bloodied bandages piled on the nightstand next to a bowl with pinkish water and bowls with tinctures. Then I caught movement at the corner of my eye, and when my head rolled to the side tiredly, my eyes met warm brown ones that slowly started to crinkle.

My heart squeezed tiredly, and Cassian sent me a slow, toothy grin.

"There you are.”

I softly crunched my brows and opened my mouth, but the words got stuck in my throat, my tongue dry like parchment. My whole chest ached like I hadn't tasted a sip of water in centuries, and I winced and shifted, trying to sit up.

“Careful, you just nearly died, take it slow.” A big, calloused hand slipped under my arm and helped me move until I was propped up on my side. My eyes landed on the pitcher with water on the night stand, and Cassian clearly read the desperation in my eyes, because he quickly filled a glass and handed it to me. My fingers grasped the cold crystal, almost slipping, and Cassian steadied it, helping me gulp down all of it before refilling it.

After I had guzzled down another full glas, he sent me a smirk. “Better?”

I breathed out before slowly sitting up fully, wincing softly. My chest felt sore, like one big bruise, and when I dipped my head, I caught a glimpse at bandages wrapped over my chest beneath the wide shirt I was wearing.

Shifting, I straightened, feeling my brows furrow as my eyes moved over the room we were in. I knew it was the townhouse, but not the guestroom I had stayed in before, nor any of the other rooms I knew. It was dark and clean but warm and homely, with books sitting next to the fireplace, the armchair pulled up next to the bed –

Something dipped under my ribs when I recognized the scent filling my lungs.

My heart swerved and fell, and my gaze darted over to Cassian, something suddenly weighing harshly on my chest as my hoarse voice rasped through my throat.

“Where's Azriel?”

Cassian stared at me, and one corner of his lips slowly quirked upwards, like he was wondering whether I had hit my head.

“What?!” I felt my heart pulse harshly.

Cass blinked.

“He's fine.” Placing the glass back on the nightstand, he huffed softly and raised his brows, the curve of his lips deepening into a smirk. “Though I would really like to know what happened in that forest now.”

My breath caught in my throat, and I could feel heat threatening to flood my cheeks, but that rising feeling in my chest was too forceful to let me linger on it.

“Why?” My gaze darted over Cassian's face, and he seemed to see the panic beginning to pulse under my ribs, because he blinked again, one corner of his lips tipping up in a light grin.

“Because in 400 years, I've not once seen him like this. He wouldn't leave your side. He didn't eat, didn't sleep, he barely let anyone touch you, snarled at anyone who got too close to you –“ He huffed. “Rhys actually had to knock him out so he could get some rest because he just refused to even take a nap, let alone leave the room –“

My heart dropped and swerved, and suddenly, something closed around my throat.

I blinked, then I turned and slid off the mattress. The world swayed a little when I pushed myself to my feet, but I held onto the bedpost.

“Where is he?”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Cass straightening as I looked around for pants, his brows crunching as he squinted in soft concern.

“Are you sure you –“

I whirled around to glare at him, something squeezing tightly under my ribs.

“Where is he?!”

Cassian stared at me, and one corner of his lips ticked up in a mixture of confusion and amusement.

“Guestroom.“

I turned around and darted towards the door. I just heard his soft huff, then I was out in the corridor.

It was clear my body wasn't ready to be moving quickly yet. I almost stumbled before reaching the stairs, an ache settling in my chest and knees wobbling, but I pushed against it. Hurrying down the stairs, my bare feet flying over the steps, my fingers gripped the banister as I skidded around the corner of the landing and down another flight of stairs into a long hallway, and –

Behind me, a door was ripped open, and when I whirled around, my breath caught in my throat.

My heart skipped once, then it settled.

Azriel stilled. His wild gaze raced over me, tracking over the huge shirt and my bare legs, my hair that had come undone, and something deepened in his stare, became dark and blazing. In turn, my eyes flitted over him, drinking him in, tall and towering as always, hair tousled but clean, shoulders tense and still under his loose shirt, and something twinged in my chest, rising and pulsing as his eyes settled on mine.

Azriel's iris flared and his jaw shifted. Something that looked like desperation crossed over his face, followed by something heated and all consuming. Then he moved, stalking towards me.

My feet unfroze, and before thinking about it, without needing to, I darted forward, racing to meet him.

The impact of my body crashing into Azriel's should have sent him stumbling. But he stayed steady like a rock, scooping me up into his arms as mine wrapped around his neck, clinging to him, my fingers digging into his shoulders, a tremble running through me.

My heart squeezed, so harshly, my breath hitched in a soft sound, and Azriel pulled me closer like he'd felt it, tension keeping his body taut as he slid his arms around me until there was no place I couldn't feel him, his tall body curving as he dragged me up and into his chest and dropped his head to bury his face in the crook of my neck.

Something turned in my chest, warm and aching, and I clung to him, heat rising and pulsing under my ribs when I squeezed my eyes shut quickly and tried to breathe past the tremble in my body, a tightness in my throat as I pressed my face into his neck, his scent flowing into my nose and causing my heart to rise.

“You're okay.” Azriel's voice vibrated through me, deep, low, hoarse, leaving something squeezing in my chest as his hand closed around the back of my head, holding me to him. His arm tightened its grip around my waist until I nodded into his neck, wrapping my arms closer around his shoulders, my fingers sinking into his hair.

Azriel made a soft noise deep in his chest, pressing his nose into my skin, and I felt his shoulders sag. His body melted into mine, his wings shuddered, and something turned over in my chest, beginning to flutter quickly when he slid his arms tighter around me, pulling me further into his chest.

We didn't move until my calves started aching from holding my weight up on my toes and I slowly dropped back onto my heels. Azriel's arms slid off my waist, and when I raised my head, his rough hands slipped up to cradle my neck, tipping my head up. His eyes pierced mine as his throat worked, jaw shifting, his amber eyes swirling like a storm, and my breath hitched.

I barely noticed the heavy footsteps on the stairs until a deep, amused voice sounded somewhere behind me.

“Nice panties, sweetheart.”

Azriel's head whipped up, his eyes flared, and a deep growl vibrated through his chest.

There was a low chuckle.

“Alright, I'm going, I'm going –“

Azriel glared over my head until heavy footsteps moved towards the stairs, and when I threw a quick look over my shoulder, Cassian sent me a smirk and a playful wink.

There was a soft soft snarl rumbling in Azriel's chest, and Cass snickered and turned, disappearing down the stairs without a care.

Tension radiated through Azriel's body until Cassian's footsteps faded away, his eyes glaring at the spot he'd stood in. It caused something to dip in my chest, and I hesitated, slowly moving back a little and swallowing as I looked up at him only to find his eyes on me again, watching me, steady, deep, his gaze swirling with a tumble of emotion.

Something rose under my ribs, fluttering wildly, and my breath caught in my throat. Suddenly, my heart was thumping harshly.

Like he could sense it, felt the same sensation pulling at his chest, Azriel's gaze shifted, became molten and soft. Then he straightened, and his hands slid away from my body without pressure, leaving me close enough I could still feel the warmth radiating from his chest, feel him, but with enough space between us my thoughts slowly calmed enough to be steady.

My heart pulsed, and a gentle knot formed in my throat as I stared up at him.

My stomach twisted before letting out a soft rumble, and I blinked and made a face. Something tumbled against my ribs when I looked up at Azriel, feeling my brows draw together as I steeled myself, ready for him to go off, telling me I should've watched my back, had been reckless –

But Azriel's eyes just moved over my face, heated, dark, almost like he was drinking me in. Then he blinked, and one corner of his lips twitched just barely.

“Put on some pants.”

The door to the kitchen was open, and I heard voices, but I was too distracted by the delicious scent whafting through the hall to really focus on it. My stomach grumbled and twisted, and when I breathed in deeply, my eyes fluttered and I almost melted on the spot. My gaze immediately narrowed in onto the steaming pots on the stove and the smells lacing the air, causing a soft whine to break from my throat.

“Easy, sweetheart.” Cassian's deep voice ripped me out of the haze. “No one's gonna wolf it all down in the next few minutes, there's plenty left for you." I could hear his smirk. "Even though you look like you might wolf it down like a starved kitten.”

Somehow tearing my gaze away from the food, I started to scowl at the Lord of Bloodshed who was lounging on one of the chairs at the big table, just winking at me with a shit-eating grin.

“Azriel.” Rhys, leaned back at the head of the table leisurely, stared over my shoulder, watchful, though with a slight quirk to his lips.

Something brushed against my shoulder, then Azriel appeared at the corner of my eye, towering, relaxed, just lightly raising a brow.

A twinkle formed in Rhys' eyes, and he nodded softly. Then his eyes turned towards me, darkness tapping against the walls of my mind.

“Are you alright?”

My stomach grumbled, and Rhys broke into a smirk.

“Nevermind.”

“Cassian, I want to see you after not eating for days.” Feyre's dry voice made me break my staring contest with the Lord of Bloodshed. I hadn't even noticed her standing over at the stove until she appeared in front of me and wrapped me up in a tight hug, squeezing me carefully.

“I'm glad you're awake,”, she mumbled into my shoulder, and something clenched gently in my chest as I quickly wrapped my arms around her and squeezed back.

“Me too,”, I whispered softly.

Something clattered behind me, and just as I jumped lightly and tried to crane my neck, another body collided with mine, causing me to stumble forward into Feyre and a soft sound to leave me at the slight jab of pain pulsing through my ribs.

A familiar scent filled my nose, blond hair filled my vision, and there was a soft sound somewhere next to my ear.

“Hi,”, Mor mumbled into my neck, and I crunched my brows, managing to free one arm and reaching up to blindly pat her cheek, accidentally hitting her nose.

“Hi.”

Feyre pulled back, grinning, but Mor held onto me for another few seconds, squeezing tightly before pulling back enough to frown, quickly scanning me. “Are you okay?”

My stomach grumbled pitifully, and Cassian snorted softly.

“I'll get you something.” Feyre turned around, and Mor pressed a kiss onto my cheek and slipped past me, taking a seat at the table as Feyre filled a plate with mashed potatoes and stew, the smell nearly making me groan.

Feyre turned, and something warm brushed my side when Azriel moved past me. His scent rose into my nose, and my eyes strayed after him for a second until Feyre offered me the plate with a light grin.

I hesitated, my eyes flickering towards the table.

The distance between every free seat and Azriel, who had moved to the other side of the kitchen, closing the pots before turning to lean against the counter, caused a soft, highly irrational but very real ache to pulse through my chest.

My heart thrummed once.

I blinked and accepted the plate, and before I could change my mind, I slipped past Feyre, moving past the table and making my way over to the counter.

I could feel Azriel's eyes on me as I placed my plate on the marble and pulled a crystal glass and a decanter towards me.

Hesitating for a second, I turned my head just a little.

The shadowsinger's gaze pierced mine, steady, calm. His wing nearly brushed my shoulder, and I could feel whisps of darkness gently grazing my ankles before wrapping around them like a soft greeting. His shoulders looked more relaxed than a second ago, and his golden eyes slowly flickered over mine.

My heart squeezed gently, and warmth slowly spread through my chest.

Because even though Azriel just looked at me, I knew the thought of me taking the seat at the table had caused the same unease in his chest it had sparked in mine.

Like just like me, he felt the same shift in the air between us - to not being able to stand the thought of merely a few feet of distance.

Blinking, I turned my gaze back ahead, pouring a generous amount of liquid into my glass and trying to swallow against the something fluttering in my throat.

I was sure Madja would have a choice of words about me drinking alcohol, my body barely over the effect of the herbs she'd used to speed up my healing.

But I really needed a drink.

Turning, I pulled myself up onto the smooth marble, wincing a little at the twinge under my ribs before picking up the glass. But before I could raise it towards my lips, it was plucked out of my fingers.

My eyes snapped up and narrowed in an incredulous scowl, and Azriel glared back.

For a second, we just glowered at each other, irritation rising and swarming under my ribs. But instead of consuming me like it always had, causing me to snap or shoot a sharp, challenging remark his way, it was quickly swallowed.

Drowned by something else that rose in my chest as I stared into Azriel's eyes, something warm and pulsing that made my heart skip and breath hitch, and suddenly, my lips curved upwards until I couldn't stop them from twitching lightly.

Azriel's gaze shifted, narrowed in, and a slow twinkle spread through his iris.

For another moment, we stared at each other while I tried to ignore the growing flutter in my chest, the hitch in my breath and the skip of my heart. Then I forced my gaze away from Azriel's, turning it back ahead – and stilling.

Everyone in the kitchen was staring at Azriel and me. Mor's brows were crunched, eyes narrowed as one corner of her lips curved upwards in disbelief. Feyre blinked, looking torn between bafflement and a strange kind of elation, and Cassian's eyebrows were raised impressively high. Rhys' eyes were twinkling.

I blinked and frowned.

“What?”

My stomach grumbled, and shrugging, I pulled up my legs and crossed them. Then, ignoring Mor's slightly pained look towards my socks resting on the polished marble, I started digging in.

I didn't listen to anything until half the plate was polished off. Only then, the ache in my stomach lessened, had I relaxed enough to actually tune into the conversation.

“ – so Mor is winnowing over before the rest of us to make sure everything is ready for tonight.”

I crunched my brows and slowed my chewing.

Tonight?

“What's tonight?”, I mumbled around a mouth full of potato.

“The masquerade.” Feyre sent me a light, mischievous grin, and I blinked.

“That's tonight?”

Once a year, Rhys threw a masquerade ball in the halls of the palace in the Court of Nightmares. On the outside, it was to keep the residents in his favor, and to remind him of their High Lord´s power. The masks usually came off quite quickly, and it became the occasion to reevaluate knowledge.

It was a night where the rich and powerful of the Court of Nightmares gathered for lavish entertainment and other enjoyments in the palace, where Rhys and Feyre played the role of the ruthless rulers, and the rest of us slipped into the crowd, taking the opportunity of all of the most influencial of the Hewn City residents in one place - to listen.

Wine loosened the tongue, and with so many people with big egos and a distaste for their High Lord in one place, one learned a lot once the entertainment was flowing, the last of the inhibitions were thrown away for the night and challenges were made.

“It is, and we all can hardly wait.” Cassian was smirking as he got to his feet. Sauntering over, he picked up my abandoned glass before reaching towards my plate -

I growled, and Cassian chuckled easily, his eyes twinkling as he shrugged and turned around, chugging down the liquid.

Glaring after him, I turned my attention back to my plate, but my gaze got caught on Azriel.

Cassian's voice echoed through my head.

“He didn't eat, didn't sleep –“

Something tightened in my chest.

Blinking, I slid one of my legs off the counter and softly nudged the side of Azriel's thigh with my foot. He turned his head towards me, and wordlessly, I ladled some potato and sauce onto my spoon and held it out towards him.

Azriel's gaze flickered down towards the food and then back up towards me, and I narrowed my eyes, glaring at him.

I know you haven't eaten. Take it, now.

The shadowsinger's gaze shifted, became deep and twinkling as it narrowed in onto mine. Then he dipped his head, and my heart skipped softly as I held the spoon steady until he straightened again, chewing and swallowing. Something rose and fluttered under my ribs, and I had to fight the way my lips curved.

It took a heartbeat until I realized the kitchen had quieted down.

I blinked, then I looked back ahead.

If the others had been staring before, they were positively gaping now.

“What?” I stared back indignantly, trying to fight the way my ears heated as I glowered at them before turning back towards my plate.

Rhys cleared his throat, his eyes twinkling as he turned back towards the others. Cassian glowered at me and my plate for another second, then he huffed and shook his head, his lips twitching upwards.

“Anyway.” Mor smiled, wrily, prettily. “Seems like this time, I'm going to have to charm the lovely souls by myself.”

I felt my brows crunch. “No, no; I'm coming.”

The others exchanged a look, then Feyre's brows furrowed gently.

“Are you sure?”

I huffed. “I am sure that Mor can not work the whole room herself. Madja can check me if you want, but I'm fine. I'll manage an evening smiling prettily and not stabbing anyone." I felt my lips quirk. "And unless you want to make Cassian wear a revealing dress to charm some stuck up assholes, you need me, so I am coming.”

Rhys chuckled. “I think she'll be fine.”

Cassian smirked, dragging his eyes over me. “More than fine.”

There was a soft growl next to me, my heart skipped high, and when my gaze flew over, Azriel was staring at Cassian. His eyes were flaring, but Cassian just winked at him, his eyes alight with mischief.

Rhys cleared his throat. If possible, his violet eyes twinkled even more than Cassian's as he lightly raised a brow at his Spymaster.

“Alright…” Mor squinted, her brows crunching. “I guess that's settled then?”

My eyes flickered over the side of Azriel's face, something shifting in my chest as I waited for the inevitable scowl, dark narrowed eyes, and glare towards me followed by stating how reckless me going so shortly after having only just started recovering would be.

But Azriel just leaned against the counter, his shadows gently swirling around my ankle as he turned his head, his golden eyes steadily piercing mine.

"But you'll see Madja before you go.”

Blinking and tearing my gaze away from Azriel's, I found Feyre staring at me, and I felt my lips curve mischievously as I widened my eyes.

“I will. And I will go on bedrest for the next week, if you want me to.” I turned back towards my plate, mumbling: “I'll probably have to, just to recover from all the bullshit we'll have to listen to tonight.”

“Then it is settled.” Rhys leaned back, his arm lazily perched on the back of Feyre's chair. “Anything else?”

Mor started talking about the masks and clothes that would be waiting at Hewn City, and I focused back on my food. Shadows slowly brushed around my ankle as once in a while, I held a spoon out to Azriel.

Carefully, I straightened the straps of my dress, then I raised my head.

Madja had cleared me to go, with reservation, a grouchy look and the order to not strain the scar that had come to light once she had taken off the bandages. It was still fresh, and pulled lightly when I moved in certain ways, but apart from the fact that my chest still felt a little bruised, I was as good as new.

Mostly.

Mor had winnowed the both of us into the Hewn City right after to make sure everything was going to plan. Now, I was standing in my room in the castle deep under the mountain, held in rich dark colors and fairly unused. The wardrobe was filled with dresses that fit the fashion down here, with little fabric and little color. Mor had given me my mask, black intricate swirls that laid snug on my skin, covering the upper part of my face. I had chosen a fitting dress, made from silk that was black like the night, long and sleek, with slits that reached the top of my thighs and bared my legs, and a low neckline.

The little fabric took getting used to, but at least it meant there wasn't a lot to restrict movement.

Picking up a pair of shoes with sturdy, high heels, I sat down on the edge of the bed, sliding my foot into one of them. Wincing at the soft twinge in my chest, I started to tightly lace the shoe to my foot.

It took me slightly longer than usual, the pull of the scar making me sit up half way through and huff a breath out of my nose.

I was getting ready to start lacing the second when the air shifted.

My gaze darted up, darkness rose, and Azriel stepped out of the shadows.

My heart dipped, and my breath caught in my throat. He was wearing his leathers, the shoulder plates shimmering in the firelight, fingerless gloves slipped over his hands, Truthteller strapped to his leg. His eyes flickered golden as I slowly straightened, trying to suppress the urge to swallow, something fluttering high in my chest.

Azriel's gaze flickered down my body, and something twisted in my stomach when his gaze became deeper, more heated.

My skin tingled, and his eyes returned to mine, dark and piercing. Then he moved.

His footsteps were silent, swallowed by the carpet, shadows swishing softly and brushing gently over my bare skin as he moved towards me, eyes piercing mine. The closer he got, the harsher the flutter in my chest got, the stronger the rising feeling. Then Azriel reached the end of the bed.

His scent washed over me, and my breath caught in my throat when he leaned down and, without hesitation, dropped onto one knee.

My heart rose. Then it stilled.

Scarred fingers, calloused and warm, slipped around my ankle, and Azriel lifted my leg, placing the foot with the unlaced heel on his bowed knee. His fingers skimmed up my ankle, picking up the laces, and without even throwing me a look, he started wrapping them around my calf, his knuckles brushing my skin.

I swallowed, trying to fight against the weight that had suddenly closed around my throat as I stared at his face, like carved from shadows, both soft and sharp at the same time. His muscles shifted under his leathers, stance steady, and somehow, I found my voice, surprisingly firm, and a little defiant.

“Aren't you going to tell me that this is reckless, considering I've just been shot?”

I barely suppressed a shudder when Azriel's fingers dragged down the side of my ankle, something twisting in my lower stomach.

“Even if I did tell you that you could do with some rest instead of this, it wouldn't stop you.” Azriel's deep voice was slow, steady, sounding a little irritated and, at the same time, almost reluctantly amused.

My breath hitched.

The shadowsinger carefully tied up the laces before raising his head, and there was a barely there twinkle to his iris as his gaze dragged over my face. “If anything, you'd want to do it even more just to piss me off.”

I huffed and narrowed my eyes, and the corner of Azriel's lips curved just the lightest bit.

Trying not to swallow, I stared at him.

“If you know that, why did you still always push?”

Azriel's eyes pierced mine, and his voice sent shivers over my spine, low, deep, steady.

“Because I lose every ounce of control and logic around you. Because some twisted part of me liked that you pushed back, never backed down, not even from me." His jaw shifted. "Because it pisses me off how easily you're willing to put yourself in danger for someone else.” His gaze dragged over my face, blazing slightly. “Because being mad at you for doing that was easier than admitting why it bothers me so fucking much in the first place.”

My heart was rising under my ribs, pulsing harshly.

“Why does it bother you?”, I whispered.

Azriel's eyes became molten, and his voice vibrated through me, almost strained.

“Because just the thought of you getting hurt makes me lose my fucking mind.”

I stared back at him, something churning in my chest.

The next words tumbled from my lips slightly pressed.

“Are you telling me all of this because you think you need to prove something?”

Something in Azriel's iris flared, became piercing.

“I'm telling you because I was a fool for not doing it before. And because I will never hide how I feel about you from you again.” A muscle in his jaw shifted, his deep voice a little rough when he mumbled: “That already cost me enough.”

This time, I did swallow, harsh and slow.

Silence settled over the room as Azriel and I stared at each other. Almost on eye level, my foot still sitting onto his knee, my shin almost touching his chest, I was close enough that I could feel him, could feel the strength in his body, the steadiness and weight of his stare.

Azriel's fingers, loosely wrapped around my calf, shifted, his thumb beginning to draw gentle, slow circles on my skin. Shadows whispered around the edge of my skirt, gently brushing over my legs, and Azriel blinked. His brows crunched a little, then he tipped his head to the side.

His hand loosened its grip on my ankle, rough skin brushing over mine, leaving goosebumps in its wake as Azriel moved his hand up over my knee and my thigh and carefully pulled the fabric of my dress to the side where the slit had hiked up and now almost reached the crease where my hip and thigh met – revealing silver daggers strapped to my leg.

Azriel's eyes grew deep and molten as his fingers traced my thigh, outlining one of the blades and causing my heart to catch in my throat. Then they rose to meet mine, and I swallowed softly and shrugged, feeling my lips curve cheekily.

“I've been told I have a tendency to be reckless and get myself into trouble.”

Azriel's gaze dragged over mine, heavy, blazing, and slowly, very slowly, one corner of his lips turned upwards.

Something in my chest pulsed. Then it rose in a wild flutter.

Azriel's hand slipped down again, sliding into the crook of my knee. His thumb slowly traced over my skin, and shivers travelled up my body, causing my heart to swell and flutter. His eyes pierced mine, and something toppled in my chest at the heat flaring in his eyes, swirling with want and warmth and longing, and something else so deep and all consuming, my breath trembled.

I opened my mouth, but before I could say something; what, I wasn't really sure myself, there was a light knock against the door.

I jumped slightly, tearing my gaze away from Azriel's just in time to hear Mor's voice sound through the wood.

“It's me. Meet you down the hall in a minute, Rhys has given the go.”

Azriel's hand lifted my leg, and when my eyes darted back towards him, he carefully placed my foot on the floor before rising to his full height. His eyes met mine, molten gold, then he held out a hand.

Swallowing softly and feeling my brows crease, I slid my fingers over his palm, and Azriel pulled me to my feet. His hand slipped out of mine, then it slid around my waist, turning me around.

My breath caught in my throat when Azriel's chest brushed against my back, shadows whispering around me. Then something dark was lowered over my face, and when I reached up in reflex, my fingers brushed over soft material, molding to my face until only my eyes were uncovered.

Fingers brushed my temple, then Azriel tied the black silk ribbon at the back of my head. My heart thrummed against my ribs when I quickly looked up at him over my shoulder, and Azriel's breath fanned over my skin when he dipped his head lightly, his dark eyes steadily piercing mine, his low voice a little hoarse when he mumbled: “Every bone in my body."

My breath faltered, simply ceased as my heart rose, and shadows swallowed Azriel, leaving only a few to gently curl around my wrists, sliding between my fingers.

Every fiber of my soul.

All yours.

The revel had already been well underway when Mor and I had entered the throne room.

Masked Fae were everywhere, dressed so scantily, some wore basically nothing at all. The air was thick with fumes and alcohol, laughter loud over music and revel, the crowd parting only occasionally. Dancers grinding to the deep, compelling music, couples in dark corners, a few jugglers and flame breathers earning applause.

It had been easy to slip into the crowd without anyone even noticing. Move through the people, listening, smiling, charming, saving every bit of information to share later. I caught glimpses of Cassian, standing on the dais slightly behind the throne, watchful, his dark eyes flickering over the room, or a little behind Feyre and Rhys when they moved through the crowd, making conversation here and there, the picture of ruthlessness and beauty. Sometimes, my way crossed Mor's, her hair braided out of her face, her dark dress blending it seemlessly, exchanging information in soft whispers, or in taps against a wine glass.

I didn't see Azriel. But I felt him. Felt shadows brushing against my skin in the thick crowd, winding around my ankles gently, and eyes on me wherever I was in the room.

Plucking a glass from the tray of a nearby waiting faerie, I leaned against one of the huge columns lining the edge of the room, letting my gaze slowly trail over the crowd as I took a sip of wine. Ignoring the leering gazes from males passing, I swirled my wine around in my glass slowly and caught Mor's gaze over the crowd. She looked ready to roll her eyes at whatever nonsense the male next to her was spewing, her nails tapping against her arm even as she smiled at him, sweetly and charmingly.

Asshole.

Turning my eyes away with a suppressed grin, I contemplated diving into the crowd again when a voice whafted through the noise from somewhere on the other side of the pillar.

“ – these bastards in our city.”

I felt my brows furrow just barely and turned my head slightly, focusing on the snarling voice.

“Look at them. Parading around like we belong to them. Everyone knows none of us pledged loyalty to that half-breed.”

My spine bristled slightly.

Most inhabitants of the Hewn City shared a view towards Rhys.

Usually none of them were dumb enough to discuss these views out loud. Especially not when he was in the room.

But there were always the rogue ones foolish enough to think he wouldn't know.

Shifting lightly, I tilted my head to look around the pillar.

The owner of the drawling voice was standing in a small circle of males, looking like they'd all thoroughly enjoyed the debauchery and revel, wine glasses full, upper buttons undone and baring flushed necks. The male talking, tall, dark haired and handsome, stared towards the dais, a disgusted look in his eyes.

“Look at him and his whore. Protected by that bastard Illyrian.”

The hairs at the back of my neck rose, and I felt my eyes slowly narrow to slits as something hot began swirling slowly in my chest.

Careful now, sweetheart. You're about to get burned very badly by your own tongue.

“You can tell all about his judgement by the mutts he's surrounding himself with. Throwing this court to the dogs. Giving our females to those winged brutes.” The male scowled, his eyes blazing. “Lord of Bloodshed. Laughable. Nothing more than a bastard with a stolen title. Destroying our bloodlines by making our females spread their legs for his scum. Think of Keir's daughter. That bitch is now one of his.”

Something curled tightly in my chest, heat washing over me as I slowly placed my glass on a passing tray.

I'd heard enough.

If I didn't move away now, there was no guarantee I wouldn't forget about leaving this bastard to Rhys and go straight for the male's throat.

I got ready to slide into the crowd, pushing off the column to make my way over to the dais – when the male's slow drawl made me freeze in the spot.

“Don't get me started on the other one. Shadowsinger." He scoffed. "Nothing but a rabid dog on a leash. Have you seen his hands? It's grotesque. Here, something like that wouldn't carry weapons. It'd be tied up in a dungeon.”

The noise in the room faded away as something rose in my chest, deadly quiet.

It turned and twisted until blinding hot and pulsing. All reason slipped away, until the only thing left was the instinct to rip through the male's throat, tear him to shreds for the words he'd dared to speak.

My hand slipped into the slit of my dress, and my voice cut through the noise, the laughter and music.

“You know, you really should be careful.”

The males looked over their shoulders in surprise and disdain, and I slinked out of the shadows, feeling the rage pulse under my ribs as I leaned against the pillar, smiling wickedly. “Or you might be the one ending up in a dungeon.”

The dark haired male straightened slowly, a dark twinkle entering his gaze as it slowly dragged over my body. One corner of his lips curled into a leering smile, and he raised a brow.

“Worried about me, sweetheart?”

A snarl built in my throat, but I fixed it into a grin before tipping my head to the side and furrowing my brows innocently. “Can you blame me? I've heard it's garstly down there. So dark and cold. Isn't it true even the Darkbringers are frightened of going down there?”

The male smirked, eyes following the curve of my body. “We're not frightened of anything.”

I slowly started to smile widely.

“Really?” I crunched my brows and pouted softly, feeling my lips twitch mischievously as I looked up at him through my lashes. “Why's a tough male like you just standing around here all on your lonesome?”

The dark haired male's smirk deepend, but before he could open his mouth, I narrowed my eyes at him in thought, the corner of my lips curving wickedly.

“Is it because you manage to light such fireworks of warmth and kindness?” Mockingly, I raised a brow, my lips twitching. “Every female must love that. The arrogance. The cruelty, the cowardice. The lack of respect for anyone you deem below you, when really you are the one proving just how little respect you deserve. The brashness, the cockiness.” I grinned viciously, letting my gaze drag slowly over his body until it rested below his belt. “Well, maybe you're just trying to make up for lacking something in – other departments.”

The males looked amusingly shocked for a second. Then the dark haired one slowly slipped into a menacing snarl.

“You –“

“You know, I think I got it.” I pushed off the pillar and slid my fingers under the silk band of my mask. “Maybe us females that spread our legs for those bastards…“, I pulled, and the fabric slid off my face as I smiled wickedly, “are just simply sick of the actual bastards like you.”

The male's eyes narrowed sharply, and he bared his teeth. “You. You're one of his whores.”

Tutting, I smiled brightly and cheekily, letting go of my mask and sauntering closer, smoothly sliding a dagger from its sheath in the shadows. “Now, now, careful. You already gambled away your tongue, you're about to loose so much more.”

The male moved forward, towering, dark and angry, and his eyes flashed. “That can be prevented.”

I grinned, fury raging in my chest, vibrating under my skin.

“Please try.”

The male's eyes became slits, and he snarled as the other males around him moved out of his way, beginning to prowl towards me. “You are in far over your head. I could snap that pretty little neck in an instant, but where's the fun in that?” He smirked leeringly. “We'll have some fun first, and you'll see what you´d been missing, spreading your legs for me too, like a good little s-“

It happened in the span of a heartbeat.

Darkness grasped the male, and his back crashed against the pillar, a tall, towering figure on him, their bodies shaking from the impact as huge wings flared and shadows whirled and scarred fingers wrapped around the male´s throat and squeezed.

My heart dipped and stilled.

Azriel's face was frozen to stone, the only sign of the deadly rage flaring within him the blazing fire in his eyes as he dipped his head and growled: “I'll kill you.”

The other males pulled themselves out of their shock. Two came at me while shadows wrapped around the others like shackles, but I was quicker.

Ducking under the swinging arm of the first, my fingers closed around his wrist, and I whirled around until our backs collided and I wrapped my arm over his neck to slice my blade over his throat. I could feel his body spasm in my back, and something hot and wet spattered my skin.

I moved before his body even collapsed to the ground, dropping to dodge the arm of the second and sliding over the marble, slicing the back of his knee with my dagger. My dress flared around me as I turned, baring the daggers sheathed at the tops of my thighs, and I pushed myself up, another daggers sliding into my hand as the male's leg buckled and he went to his knees. His head whipped up, my daggers pressed against his skin, one over his throat and the other pointed at the back of his neck, causing him to freeze, and my head swept around as I snarled at the others.

“Don't fucking touch him.”

The male tried to grab at Azriel's hand that slowly but surely cut off his air supply, but the shadowsinger didn't move, just stared at him with that flaring, merciless fire blazing in his eyes, body rippling with tension, darkness whipping around his wings.

The crowd rustled as guards slipped out of the wide circle that had formed. The commotion must have attracted their attention, ready to break off the brawl – Rhys wasn't interested in too much of a bloodspill. But they visibly hesitated as their gazes flickered between me, Azriel, and the male that wheezed, trying to scratch at the shadowsinger's hands as he gurgled: “What – are you – waiting – for –“

Azriel's eyes darkend, and the male broke off, his eyes bulging. I snarled, sliding the tip of my knife higher up the kneeling male's throat as my gaze pierced the guards. They might have been sworn loyal to Rhys, but he wasn't around right now, and many of them shared the same view the male had paraded around.

Something skipped high against my ribs; I threw a look over my shoulder, and the same moment, Azriel turned his head.

Amber eyes clashed with mine; blazing, raging darkness, and showing a silent question, offer, reassurance.

My heart dipped. Then it rose.

I pushed away the male at my feet and turned smoothly, and Azriel's wings flared, spread menacingly as he let go of the male who lost his footing and collapsed, stepping back until we were back to back. Shadows wrapped around my arms and waist, possively, protectively, the breeze of the ones swirling around Azriel's wings causing the whisps of hair falling into my face to flutter as I flipped my daggers around, the blades pressing against the insides of my arms as I snarled at anyone who moved just a breath out of the circle. I could feel Azriel towering in my back, could feel the brush of his shoulder blades against my head, the power radiating off him in waves.

The guards exchanged quick glances.

“What are you waiting for?!” The male grasped his throat, his gaze raging with hate as he pushed himself to his feet, pointing towards us. “That fucking bastard was about to kill me, and that bitch actually sliced one of our own's throat!”

The guards hesitated, and the male barked: “Kill them!”

Azriel snarled softly, his wings rustling as his shadows whispered over my skin in a caress, and my heart rose as I readied myself, adrenaline rushing through my body and causing my lips to curve into a challenging, deadly grin as I fixed my eyes onto the nearest guard.

“I'll fucking do it myself!” The male ripped the sword off a guard and turned.

But before he could advance, before I could ready my dagger, the crowd shifted.

The guards stilled in place. Darkness rippled, power causing the ground to tremble. Then there was a low, familiar chuckle.

“Now, now…”

The male's gaze whipped around, and Rhys stepped out of the crowd, his violet eyes twinkling wickedly as he straightened his sleeve. They pierced the male who paled slightly, then they slowly turned towards Azriel and me.

“Even though I certainly wouldn't blame you for killing the worm with the bad manners right here and now, I am going to have to remind you of the mess it would leave.” He dipped his head with a feline smirk. “It would be such tedious work to scrub even more blood off the floors.”

The males blanched, but the dark haired one clenched his teeth, apparently gaining back some of his bravado as he pointed at me.

“This female –“

Rhys' gaze whipped around, becoming sharp as darkness built around him, and the male fell quiet like someone had closed a hand over his mouth.

“Careful about finishing that sentence.” Rhys' voice was deep and rumbling and every part the High Lord he was when he stared at the male, power radiating off him and causing the male to step back like his body had forced him to.

“Maybe rethink on whether to finish it at all. Because even if I wasn't very inclined towards having people's heads for the things that just left your worthless mouth, as you might have noticed, this female is very capable of holding her own. Not to mention -“ Rhys' eyes flashed with the smirk he sent the male and dipped his chin towards Azriel. “He would tear you apart before you even finished whatever vile excuse of an opinion you were about to voice. And what an upsetting sight for my guests to witness your insides spilling all over the floors.”

The male blinked, and even though his jaw worked, he paled.

“As for the plain slander you spewed directed towards my Spymaster…” Rhys' eyes were blazing even as he smirked. “He doesn't care enough about opinions to shred you to pieces for parading them around. I however do, and this one,”, his gaze was twinkling wickedly he inclined his head towards me, “even more. She gets quite protective of those she cares about. And won't have anyone spewing insults of such kind without facing dire consequences.” Rhys sent him a feline smile. “And the only reason she won't be ripping out your throat right here and now is that she knows I would rather not have her ruin such expensive silk with something as meaningless as your blood.”

The male blinked quickly, his cheek muscles working quickly.

“Now, just in case this wasn't already made clear.” Rhys tipped his head to the side, his violet iris losing all twinkle, his smile becoming sharp and vicious. “No one makes the kind of insults you threw around about any member of my court without facing the consequences. And only a fool does so in my presence, thinking that I wouldn't know...”

The male's eyes widened slowly.

Rhys' lips twitched, and he dipped his chin. “Take him away.”

The guards moved, uniforms rustling, and Rhys turned away, raising a brow at the crowd with a wicked smile. "Anyone else would like to add anything?"

The crowd shifted, and Rhys winked, his smirk lazy. "Excellent. That means we can all go back to amusing ourselves." He waved his hand, and slowly, the bystanders started to turn away as the noise of the revel picked up again, laughter echoing under the cavernous ceiling, the fire breathers earning applause from the people who hadn´t even realised anything had been wrong.

I snarled softly when the rest of the males slinked into the shadows, and something heavy slipped off my chest as I felt a soundless breath leave me, adrenaline slowly rushing out of my system.

Then something grazed my back, and my heart rose into my throat.

I hesitated and looked up over my shoulder, and my eyes met amber ones, dark and swirling, piercing mine as shadows slowly whispered around my hands and ribs, gently wrapping around my ankles.

Something pulsed once against my ribs, harsh and quick, and my breath caught.

“Well…”

I blinked, somehow tearing my eyes away from Azriel's, and Rhys arched a brow.

“I had something a little less dramatic planned to re-establish dominance, but this was certainly something people will remember, so who am I to complain.” His lips curved mischievously as he raised a brow. “As entertaining as this was though, I'd rather you not stir up any more trouble tonight, so why don't you two go home.” Stepping back slightly, he winked, his violet eyes twinkling, then darkness swallowed him.

I swallowed softly. Then I looked up at Azriel, and something started rising under my ribs when he turned towards me, his tall body towering over me, shadows softly whispering over his shoulders, and my body followed, like it was made as a mirror.

Something dipped and squeezed in my chest as I tipped up my chin to stare up at him, soared and fluttered when Azriel stared back, head tilted down towards me, so close our chests were brushing. His eyes were dragging over my face, deep, emotion raging within, causing my breath to swell in my throat. Then he turned his gaze down, and my fingers twitched when rough hands carefully slid the daggers out of my grip.

My brows furrowed, and when I followed Azriel's gaze, he wiped the bloody blades clean on the sleeves of his leathers before twirling them around in his grip and leaning down.

His breath brushed over my neck, then his hands slipped under the slits in my dress and slid the daggers back into their empty sheaths.

My heart dipped and fluttered. Heat washed through my body from the place Azriel´s rough fingers grazed my skin, his scent causing my heart to rise in a flutter, then he rose again, and when I looked up at him, feeling something close around my throat, his hand slipped to the small of my back, lightly tugging me forward as his arm wrapped around my waist until my chest was pressed into his.

I inhaled soundlessly, and darkness swallowed us.

When the shadows disappeared, we were standing in Azriel's room in the townhouse.

I hesitated, swallowing softly as I slowly moved backwards, Azriel's hands slipping away from my waist when I raised my head to stare at him, something dipping in my chest.

“I could have handled him.” My voice was soft, so unlike me, something churning in my chest as my heart thumped against my ribs.

“I know.” Azriel's eyes pierced mine.

My heart rose, and I felt my brows draw together desperately.

“Then why did you –“

Azriel moved, and my voice died away when he stalked forward until he was towering over me, his eyes blazing as he stared down at me. “Because you're mine. You might've not been before we went into those godsdamned woods, but you sure as hell are now, and I know that you can fight for yourself, but I am too selfish to not tear apart anyone who dares to try and harm you.”

My heart rose into my throat, and suddenly, breathing felt impossible.

Azriel's jaw flexed, and he dropped his head a little, his eyes piercing mine.

“You're mine.” His throat worked like he was trying to swallow, and his shoulders sank. “And you know that. You know that you are mine, that you belong with me, the same way you know that I am yours – with every fiber of my fucking being.” His gaze darted over my face, blazing, desperate.

“You know it, because it pulls you towards me just like it pulls me towards you, because just the thought of being away from each other makes you ache, because the thought of losing each other makes you feel like you're going to lose your mind. Because anyone threatening to harm me makes you want to rip them apart.” His throat worked as he stared at me, eyes steady.

“That's what was scaring you.” His voice was hoarse but fiery. "Because for some reason, it hasn't gotten into your head that I'm not going anywhere. That I belong to you just as much as you belong to me, maybe even more, and that it's not going to stop.”

Something tightened in my chest, and I tried to fight the rising feeling, feeling my fingers curl together to hold onto something.

“How do you want to know that?”

The whispered words were out before I could stop them, weak, scared, terrified.

But Azriel's eyes just dragged over mine, drinking me in, that deep, all consuming thing rising in his iris until it swallowed everything.

“I just do.” His quiet, raw voice caused a shudder to run down my spine. “The same way I know there's stars in the sky and earth under my feet.”

I stared at him, feeling my breath tremble, and something began to ache in my chest.

“What if I fall? What if I go down?”

The words tumbled from my lips, shaking, thick, but Azriel just stared at me, calm, steady, unshakable, his voice hoarse when he mumbled: “Then I'll catch you. Or we go down together.”

The ache in my chest grew, rising, like a storm as I tried to fight against the pressure in my throat and drank in the male standing before me, tall, unfaltering, eyes soft and burning, and my heart pulsed, thrumming against my ribs, firmer and firmer until my breath stilled.

I moved, and the ache in my chest tightened before erupting, turning to clouds of stardust when I stretched and pulled Azriel down to kiss him desperately.

A soft hoarse sound left the shadowsinger, and his hands slipped to the back of my neck, dragging me forward into his chest as he dipped his head and kissed back like he'd been made for nothing else.

My heart soared as my fingers tug into his waist, twisting and pulsing under my ribs as I pushed closer, Azriel's scent filling my lungs, causing a whimper to build in my throat as one of my hands slid up to the back of his neck, digging into his hair to pull him down, closer, just closer.

Azriel groaned into my mouth, his fingers sliding down to grip my waist as his lips parted mine, his tongue wrestling mine as his hand slid into my hair, tipping my head.

Heat rose from my core, washing through my body as my insides twisted, my hips pushing forward, and Azriel bit into my lower lip before dropping his head. His fingers slipped from my waist to drag one of the straps of my dress down my shoulder, then his hand pressed against my back to arch my body into his touch, and his lips dragged over my nipple.

My insides shuddered, something twisted in my stomach, and my head fell back when Azriel started licking and sucking on the soft skin of my breast, groaning softly with need, his heavy breath fanning over forming bruises as his teeth caught onto my nipple.

My hips jerked, and my fingers dug into Azriel's hair as my body arched into him and a broken sound tore from my throat.

The shadowsinger's breath was ragged against my skin, heavy and uneven, his fingers digging into my waist as he pulled me closer and raised his head to kiss me again, harsh and deep and desperate. His fingers pulled the other strap of my dress off my shoulder, and the silky fabric slipped down my body, a soft groan leaving the back of Azriel's throat when my back arched until my chest pressed into his.

My heart rose in a violent flutter, and I dug my fingers into his hair, kissing back just as desperately. My tongue dragged over Azriel's, and he leaned down, his arm sliding under my ass and lifting me off my feet as he straightened back up.

My legs wrapped around his waist like instinct, my body clinging to his as I curved my hands around the nape of his neck and kissed him breathlessly, feeling everything in my stomach coil at the way his tongue licked into my mouth.

Azriel's steps shook my body as he moved through the room, his wings knocking against books and sending them crashing to the floor. His grip changed, and his arms slid away when he placed me on a cool, smooth surface, his hips pushing my knees apart, and my legs wrapped around his waist, dragging him closer.

Azriel grunted, his hips grinding into mine, and I moaned into his mouth as heat washed through my insides.

Azriel's hands slid down my sides to the holsters wrapped around my thighs. His fingers undid the clasps, and the weapons clattered to the floor as his thumb hooked into the band of my underwear and dragged it down. I kicked it off before trying to wrap my legs back around his waist, but Azriel's calloused fingers closed around my thighs. Then he dragged my legs apart and sank down onto his knees.

My breath caught in my throat, and my heart ceased beating.

Azriel's hands hooked into the back of my knees and dragged me to the edge of the dresser, sliding my legs over his shoulders. Then his eyes found mine, hooded, hazy, deep and flaring, and my lips fell apart when he ran his tongue through my folds.

A deep moan rumbled through Azriel's chest, and my back arched. His hands gripped my hips, then Az pushed closer and started licking broad stripes over me, his tongue flicking over my clit, sending shudders through my body.

My head fell back as my fingers dug into the hard edge of the dresser, my thighs trembling. Deep sounds vibrated through Azriel's body, like somehow, this was bringing him even more pleasure than me, eating me like a male starving, lids fluttering over hazy eyes in which golden flecks were melting together into galaxies.

The sight of him, hair dishevelled, strands curving over his forehead, wings shuddering as he lapped at me, sucking slowly, caused something to twist in my stomach, my insides tightening. My heart thrummed against my ribs, heat running down my spine as it arched, and Azriel hummed, his hands sliding from my hips. He tore his gloves off, then his palms dragged up my legs, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and one slipped between my legs.

"Oh." A soft sound left me, my hips rolled, and Azriel licked over my clit until my body shuddered and his finger slipped into me.

Azriel took me apart with nothing but a few strokes. Then his finger curled, another joined the first, and he harshly sucked at my clit, lapping and licking, and the tightness in my stomach twisted and snapped, bloomed into something that turned my body to stardust and made my insides squeeze and twitch until I clung to Azriel's hair, sounds breaking from my throat that shook the ceiling.

Lazily lapping at my clit, Azriel allowed me to tug him to his feet. Shadows whispered, helping my trembling fingers to begin to get rid off his leathers when he kissed me again, his hands tipping back my head, his tongue slowly, heatedly dragging over mine.

Suddenly, the layers left between us were too much. I ripped at Azriel's armor, sliding it off his shoulders, the leathers following. My nails lightly scratched over his skin as I dragged my hands down his chest, his skin warm and solid under my touch, muscles shifting and shuddering when my legs wrapped around his waist and dragged him forward. I licked over his throat, following the deep sound rumbling in Azriel's chest when my teeth nipped at his jaw, his fingers digging into my thigh, sliding into my hair, and I inhaled with a soft shudder, raising my head and curling my fingers into Azriel's hair when he kissed me harshly.

Azriel's grip tightened, and he lifted me off the dresser. My nipples dragging over his bare chest caused my fingers to dig into his hair, and Azriel growled softly, kissing me harder, more desperate. I could feel his hard cock pushing against his pants as he kicked off his boots, and when I grinded my hips down, my insides twisted at both the friction and the hoarse sound leaving him.

Azriel leaned down, and my heart rose when he dropped me into sheets that smelled like him as much as me, our scents intertwined into something that caused my chest to ache with harsh flutters. Weapons and heavy leather hit the floor, then Azriel was above me, pushing my body up the mattress until I wrapped my legs and arms around him and dragged his heavy body down.

My heart toppled when his warm weight pressed mine into the mattress, causing my hips to buck and back to arch, and Azriel groaned into my neck. His hand dragged my thigh up, his hips lodged right between my legs, and my hand flew up to curl into his hair when the tip of Azriel's cock dragged through my folds.

I choked with a whimper, my lips parting as I twisted back my head. Azriel's hands pressed against the insides of my thighs, pushing them down further, sliding my legs apart until I was spread out entirely beneath him. His nose dragged up my neck, warmth washed over me, and I dug my fingers into his hair. Then he rolled his hips forward.

My lips parted. My back arched as a whimper left me, and my eyes rolled back at the way I felt myself stretch around him, sensation zipping up my spine as my body melted into the mattress.

Azriel grunted, neck straining as he dropped his head against my shoulder and mumbled hoarsely: “Fuck, you´re tight.”

“Oh.” My back arched up into him, my hips twisting, and Azriel growled softly into my neck, one arm hooking under my back to keep me from writhing.

My eyes rolled back as Azriel nudged his hips forward, and my back arched.

“Shit.” My fingers grasped the sheets, twisting, and Azriel grunted against my throat, the sound thick. A shuddering breath left me as my hands flew up to dig into his back, my heart rising into my throat.

My body became a pliant, weightless thing. Where Azriel pushed, it gave way, with a little hesitation and then all too ready. The deeper he sank in, the less I could feel that wasn't him. Him and how I was stretching around him, him and his body flush against mine, tall and solid and dwarfing mine as his hand closed around my thigh and hiked it up higher –

Azriel raised his head, and my heart toppled over when he pressed his forehead against mine, panting shallowly into my parted lips, grip bruising. Then his hips rolled again, and something twisted, shifting into place.

I whimpered when Azriel sank in to the hilt, hips flush with mine and filling me up to the very brim, my fingers digging into his back as one of my hands flew up to bury in his hair.

Azriel nudged his nose against mine, and my heart toppled over at the sight of his blazing eyes and blown pupils and harsh swallow.

I lightly rolled my hips upwards, and a strangled sound left the back of Azriel's throat. His fingers dug into my thigh, then he slowly pulled out, and my eyes rolled back when he sank back in, starting a deep, hard, torturous rhythm.

My nails scratched over Azriel's back as my body arched into him, my hips meeting his thrusts as he began to fuck me, slowly, deliciously, every drag of his cock against my walls causing tremors to run up my spine. Something began blooming in my chest, wild and pulsing, rising until I shuddered, and Azriel kissed me, lips parting mine as his tongue dragged over mine, tasting, memorising as he groaned into my mouth, and I slid my leg up higher over his waist, clinging to him, feeling his arm drag me up into his body as he slowly picked up his rhythm.

Something liquid pooled in my stomach, something hot that sent waves of pleasure through me and made my head fall back into the pillows, and I rolled my hips, desperate for more, more friction, more -

"Harder."

My breathless whisper caused Azriel's spine to tremble. His grip tightened as he growled, and from one second to the next, his control vanished. Slid away with every little thing remaining of his walls, and his hands pushed my legs up higher as his hips snapped forward, falling into a rhythm that made me press my palm onto the headboard, my body arching as Azriel started to fuck me deep and hard into the mattress.

My insides twisted. Tightened slowly around Azriel's cock as it hit spots that made my eyes roll back until I saw stars as I pushed back, rocking my hips until it felt like my body was about to burst, strung so tightly, I could feel every muscle quivering until I was writhing, broken sounds falling from my throat.

Then it snapped.

My body shattered. Became stars and galaxies and the earth trembling beneath our feet as waves of pleasure washed over me so blinding, my body twisted and shuddered still when I felt Azriel follow me over that edge, his hips burying deep within me as he cursed brokenly into my neck.

The sheets were no longer sticking to my skin when I finally wasn't floating anymore. My mind was still slow and foggy when I pulled my head back a little to stare at Azriel. He'd dragged me into his body, arm slipping between my legs to haul one of them over his side before sliding it around my waist, pulling me so close that our chests were pressed together until there was no telling where one ended and the other began. His hair was mussed and sweaty, his lips swollen, and his eyes looked like amber in evening light as he stared back at me, the golden flecks in his iris twinkling.

He was looking at me like I was beginning and end, the answer to every question, like the one thing between the earth and the stars entirely made for him.

Something rose gently under my ribs.

"Every fiber of my soul,", I whispered.

Azriel stared at me, and his gaze flared, became molten and soft and burning as he dragged me forward and kissed me until my heart soared and breath caught in my throat and I finally understood that swirling, all consuming feeling in his eyes.

All yours.

@azrielshadows1nger @waytoomanyteenagefeels @secret-ly-here @icey--stars @ailyr92 @azriels-mate2 @thisisew @kalulakunundrum @polli05927 @raisinggray @justdreamstars @ccucumbers @hanvstheworld

[acotarxreader]

Mirror Part Two

Azriel x Reader

Warnings: High angst, drama, fluff, injury, Tamlin

Synopsis: After your abrupt exit from the night court you return to your worldly travels but the rising threat of war with Hybern has Rhysand seeking out his favourite weapon once again

Synopsis: You were gifted with the ability to mirror other fae's magic with a simple touch and your free spirit nature leads you to cross very close to the borders of a hidden city, where your future best friends and soulmate snatch you out of the sky to protect their border.

Inspired by Who's Afraid of Little Old Me & My Tears Ricochet by Taylor M.F Swift

A/N: Welcome to part two of this dramatic guy! Sorry for the lil wait! Let me know what you think friends!

I think I'm gonna write my first Eris fic hehe

Requests Open

Part 1

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The War with Hybern

You passed through the mist like the shadows of the night that swaddled you, deep south in Prythian, practically in the Mortal Realm. Spring Court had crumbled to the weeds and whims of the High Lady of Night, your mortal enemy that you never met. You drifted from the face of the earth like the ghost Rhysand’s neglect had turned you into, banished to exile from the world that broke your body before breaking your spirit. You adjusted to the loneliness with surprising ease, melting back into the solitary figure you were when taken from the skies above Velaris, your free spirit exchanged for a shattered one. The events of the budding war with Hybern came to your knowledge through the ever-winding grapevine of gossip and tales. The very escapades of your former family and its new members provided you with equal amounts of amusement and worry.

“Bad dog!” You flung your shoe playfully at the great towering beast at the entrance of the cave you were currently occupying, the green-eyed beast released a growl as he dropped the carcass of the freshly slaughtered deer on your doorstep, tracking blood all over the rock. 

“How I love your visits dear YN” He growled before tilting his head slightly and returning to the wild. You and Tamlin now had a shared interest in your hatred of the Night Court’s leadership, his welcome of your travels through the shell of his court for the first time in centuries gave you the flicker of a homily feeling you’d banished from your heart. You used the Spring Court as you had The Middle, as a base of operations before travelling to see every inch of the world you could. He offered to bring you to the countless run-ins he had had with the Court of Dreams as a new war with Hybern began to threaten the peace. You weren’t really sure if it was so much because of Rhysand that it was because of Azriel that you hadn’t returned, the shattered friendship too much to think of. You watched an onyx shadow leak from your knotted knuckles, the last trace of Azriel you had to hold on to. Your shadows pulled along the carcass of the animal, the sight turning something in your stomach. You shuddered slightly, a sense of alarm growing in you at something in your world being tampered with. 

You winnowed to the ruins of the Tamlin’s residence, the shell of once reviled power and grace much like the owner. Traipsing up the steps of the crumbling house, the sound of a male you hadn’t heard from in such a long time rocketed through your system. 

“Rhysand?” You heard your voice speak without making the conscious decision to, Tamlin lifted his head from his hands as he sat at the rotting table, Rhysand spinning with unusual unease at the sound of your voice. 

“YN-” He took a step towards you instinctively, you following your own intuition, stepping back from him. “-You’re here?” “No need for the personal visit High Lord, if you wanted me dead you should have just said” 

“YN, I can’t believe you’re really here” He wasn’t sure why he was so surprised, his best had tracked your movements to the discarded court. 

“Funny, I was going to say the same thing to you. Why are you here?” You chewed out, the ghost of a smirk passing Tamlin's face. 

“Just visiting the High Lord of Spring” “Why? Need him as a weapon? Find value in him now you need him for war games?” Your icy words plummeted the temperature in the room, Rhysands wings slumping. 

“YN, don’t be like that”

“You can leave, Tamlin like many others, do not need you to faux interest in our lives for them to hold value” You circled around the table, running parallel to him across the dissolving oak to land next to Tamlin as he sat back in his chair, quietly smug.

“So, are you in love?” You laughed at his question, Tamlin matching the sound. 

“No, I think you took any ability for me to feel that from me” Rhysand searched your eyes for the way you used to look at him, for any semblance of the female who’d cleave the world apart for him, for any leverage he might still have with you. 

“You’ve made your request Rhysand, go” Tamlin found some ounce of long-dead confidence in him to shun the Lord of Night. 

“Hm” Was all he replied, moving to dissolve but stopping to witness a small shadow leak from your fist, a sign you had potentially seen Azriel recently, not the truth which was that you had kept the shadows with you since you fled, the last connection to a feeling of home. He nodded his head, a small laugh leaving him before vanishing. You pushed the back of Tamlin's chair to turn him to face you in his seat. 

“What request?” “Hybern is preparing to rage a war, he needs further assistance” He practically whispered before standing again and crossing the ruins of the dining room.

“So I was right, he did just want you as a weapon” “Actually-” his hand landed on the heavy door “-He wanted you” Tamlin melted into his beast form once again, leaving you to think through the words, your eyes looking down to the scars the last Lord of Night had left you. 

—--------------------------

You winnowed to a high mountain top you hadn’t graced in some time, your eyes looking upon your formerly beloved home of Velaris, the word home like acid in your throat. You looked towards the Town House, the once monument to your love, a mausoleum to it now. You sighed aloud before turning towards the House of Wind, something calling out to you through the night air, an idea growing in you. the sound of your feet hitting the stone gently filled the library. The dark shrouded you with unnatural warmth as you called quietly into the hollow pit for an old friend of yours. 

“Little mirror, you have returned” “Bry, don’t be coy with me” You could hear the creature of nightmares smile through the shadows.

“What do I owe this long overdue visit my little mirror?” You could feel its energy swirling around you but keeping enough distance so as not to risk you mirroring it. 

“Hybern is planning to attack and I wish to know what side of the aisle you find your wonderful self on” You had thought of your old friend as the perfect addition to a team you had no plan on being directly involved with.

“They have not yet asked my little mirror” The chill of its voice met your skin with a flush of contrasting warmth, inspecting you for any trace of harm.

“When they do, bargain for something of little matter to you that they can’t refuse and then once you have completed your task, go free” “Indeed-” he hummed at your self-assured tone “-why bother trying to help them little mirror?” “Let's say it’s out of habit” you laughed lightly, the wisps of dark air feeling as though a grin could be felt in them. You looked up to the mouth of the pit above you, the faint outlines of bookshelves shrouded in darkness haunting above.

“Ask for a window Bry, you deserve to see the world you will once again grace” Energy graced over your hand in thanks so easy for you to capture and yet it had no value to you T when compared to the sentiment of what you had at your finger tips. The sound of footsteps up above had you jolting slightly, retreating further into the dark so as not to be seen. 

“Be safe friend” You whispered softly before winnowing out of the depths. 

—-----------------------------------------

Shadows sank into the cobblestone as you manifested on the singing streets, your feet felt light along the heavy rock, practically levitating towards your old haunt. You stood at the gate of the Town House, the shadows of the residence dancing across the candlelight in the window, happy fae dancing in the streets as if not in the presence of the creature they turned you into. 

The Town House was decorated to within an inch of its life, banners and streamers flowing freely from every corner as music sang through the house to the garden where the majority of the party was revelling in the moonlight. You followed the radiate path to the garden you’d spent years cultivating, willingly ignoring the changes to decor made by the new Lady of Night. 

You watched the Inner Circle at the bottom of the garden, your former family rejoiced in celebration of the birthday of a fae you only knew through stories of the Hybern War. Nesta glowed in the moonlight. You looked among the now expanded Inner Circle, Azriel noticeably missing as you took another step down the path, Cassian swirled Nesta around, you smiled genuinely at the sight, so happy to see him happy. The smile faded as Rhysand did the same to Feyre before they walked hand in hand to the other side of the garden, your once favourite spot, the perfect view of the Sidra. 

You found your feet taking you in their direction, slightly secluded from the rest of the Inner Circle. The sound of your steps on the soft grass made a silent sound that sent shivers down Rhysand’s spine as he turned to see you standing on top of the slope, staring down at them. 

The music seemingly stopped dead, your appearance at the party stopping the revelry like a record scratch as you spoke-

“Doesn’t look much like a war is nigh right now, now does it?” You clasped your hands in front of you, eyes burning into the former love of your life. 

“YN-I-” “This is YN?” Feyre stepped from behind her mate, her beauty illuminating the path up to you and you hated her for it, you looked around at the world you believed she stole from you but realised as quickly it was Rhysand who had committed the theft.  Feyre moved to close the distance between you both, stepping from her mate's grasp to practically square off to you. You could feel the power radiating from her, so tempting to take but would replace the last scrap of Azriel you had access to. Still, you enjoyed the thought of rattling Rhysand.

“Ah, Feyre, Rhysand’s lovely High Lady of Night, I don’t think we’ve had the displeasure of formally meeting” You outstretched a hand, she instinctively went to take hold of it, and Rhysand immediately pulled her back.

“Don’t let her touch you!” He ordered, some fae looking in your direction at the disturbance to their antics. “Who’s afraid of little old me?” You laughed again, it reverberating off Feyre’s chest

“Don’t go near her” “Where is this hostility coming from Rhysand, I seem to remember it was you who made the first act of aggression” You lifted the small cuff of your sleeve, the hint of a small arrow-shaped scar still marking you centuries later. 

“Leave YN” “You sought me out, I’m returning the visit” Feyre’s head darted towards her mates at the revelation.

“Oh? He didn’t tell you? My my always one for secrets Rhysand” you tsked, circling them as Rhysand’s father once had done to you, a hunter and her prey. 

“YN, I’m am celebrating with my family, if you could extend some courtesy and-” “Courtesy!?-” You scoffed loudly “-You crossed out the good years with me, cursed me the moment I treated you with the same respect you’d given me for years, banished me to the same solitude you used me to escape from! So you don’t deserve courtesy! And now, even when you are mated to pure power, I can tell you wish I stayed, you curse my name wishing I stayed! Your favourite fucking weapon!” Years of repressed anger flooded from you to the space between you and the mates, Rhysands face greying as he clutched onto Feyre’s hand like you may steal her away forever. 

“I-I didn’t do anything to you YN, I just fell into this world, this was hard on everyone” Feyre rattled out, your heated gaze landing on one of the most powerful fae to grace Prythian. You took a deep breath in before speaking again-

“Oh boo freaking hoo-” "You found yourself laughing coldly “-Figure out the Hybern thing by yourselves, I’ve already had enough” You span on the ball of your foot, striding up the very path you had designed to get the best view of the garden. 

“And those new curtains look horrific!” You called back over your shoulder to the mates before reentering the house you wished to burn to the ground with your vitriol. 

-

You returned to the now suffocating air of the Velaris streets, feet bouncing off the cobble as you walked down the hill, your muscle memory bringing you down the way to one of your favourite spots in the city. The moment your mottled shaking hands met the cooling brick of the Sidra’s boundary wall, the tsunami of tears you fought every day since leaving flooded your atmosphere. 

“YN?” Azriel crossed the same bridge you said goodbye to him on those years before, the paper bags containing Mor’s favourite alcohol smashed to the stone floor. The stream of oak-coloured liquid flowed to your shoes. Shadows darted around you like dogs flocking to their owner after a long time apart. You laughed at the feeling of them swirling around you, lightly nipping at your face in their own form of pecks to the cheeks, banishing tears. You managed to open your eyes between their displays of affection to find Azriel standing with pure shock on his face, arms hanging by his sides and wings dipping to match. 

“Am I hallucinating?” “No Az-” You smiled wide through tear-stained cheeks “-I came back to take another strip off of your dear brother” You watched him pinch his arm to ensure he was truly awake. Azriel then flew at you in a similar fashion to his shadows, wrapping his arms around you to practically crack your bones. 

“Az-You’re-suffocating-me” You managed, laughing again once he gave enough of a release to allow your lungs to expand. 

“Why is it every time I find you on this bridge you’re crying?” He wiped a thumb across a stray tear, your crooked hands holding his to your face before they could move back away. 

“I love the drama” you laughed through fresh tears.

“Why are you back YNN?”

“Well, Rhysand came to visit me in Spring Court-” an almost growl left Azriel in response “-and he’s in need of his favourite weapon again” A definite growl left him this time, his hands dropping away from you as he turned to look back up the direction of the Town House.

“I told him to leave you alone, I didn’t track you down for you to be used as-” “You what?” He turned back to your slightly tilting head.

“Well…you went radio silent on me, I had to make sure you were okay-” a shadow clipped his ear somewhat sharply “-We, we had to make sure you were okay. You left us” The last three words tinged with undeniable heartbreak, heartbreak you had felt yourself. “Az, I had to leave”

“But you didn’t have to leave without me” an element of anger leached from him.

“Az” “No, you left! Rhysand might have broken your heart but you obliterated mine! Chipped away at it over centuries” A sharpness never reserved for you cut into your skin with similar pain to what Rhysand’s father had dealt you. 

“Azriel I’m sorr-” “-It broke me every time you chose him and all he did was tolerate you! Tolerate the love I so desperately wanted! And now I watch as he gives Feyre even a fraction of everything you deserved and I hate that I didn’t fight harder for you! I hate it! Hate how he  weaponised and ruined the love of my life!” His raised tone bounced off the flowing waters of the Sidra, the sound of his century's worth of repressed resentment tumbling out of him like the small waves hitting the boundary wall. 

“YOU SAID YOU WANTED ME TO BE HAPPY EVEN IF IT MEANT RUNNING AWAY FROM ALL THIS!” “BUT I THOUGHT YOU’D TAKE ME WITH YOU”

“I SHOULD HAVE! I FUCKING SHOULD HAVE!" You roared back, an onyx shadow of your own making curling around your vibrating fists, Azriel’s eyes shot towards them, his hand taking a gentle firm hold on your wrist before you could bolt out of his life again.

“You’re still mirroring me” he whispered so softly you thought you imagined it.

“Yeah… it was all I had left connecting me to you, to my home, to someone who would always do more than just tolerate my love” You returned the words with equal tenderness, eyes fixating on your shadows swirling into his, your eyes illuminating like they hadn’t since first landing on Azriel’s. His hand slipped from your wrist to your hand, chasms and fissures of equal cruelty knitting into one another so the skin may feel whole again.

“YN! You don’t get to leave like that!” Your heads moved in unison to look up towards an enraged Rhysand, you released Azriel’s hand on sight.

“You don’t control where I do and don’t go anymore Rhys” you chewed back.

“I am regretful for what happened and how it happened but don’t let the little incident that happened between us stop you from defending your people!”

“Little incident?” Your chilled laugh returned, a shiver running down Azriel at the sound. 

“YN, be sensible here” Rhysand has his arms out as though trying to corral an animal as he steps towards you, Azriel instinctively standing between the two of you. 

“YNN is entitled to spend the rest of her life how she wants to, she owes us nothing” His hardened stare cut through his brother, shadows swirling around his feet.

“Az, we need her power to-” “-We need her to be happy, Rhysand. That’s what we always should have needed of her, we owe her everything. You took no issue in me destroying those who destroyed me, she should be given that option, even now” Azriel spoke with clear conviction, the words causing Rhysand to purse his lips in thought. 

“If she doesn’t join then she will succeed in destroying us by not helping us” He looked around Azriel to you, your thoughts racing at the words. You stepped back from the two brothers, your shoes crushing the glass of the smashed bottles. 

“Follow your own past decisions Rhys and don’t follow me” You dissolved in front of the two as they began to argue once again. 

—------------------------------------------------------------------

That day you watched Tamlin ready what little forces he had, the thought of your former family defending your homeland without your intervention ultimately being your deciding factor to join. That and the thought of giving Rhysand any semblance of moral high ground. 

You transversed the battlefield in a shielded shadow, blasting the enemy as you flew alongside the Illyrian-winged warriors. A blood-curdling call of a female you didn’t know drew your attention downward as Cassian flew down past you towards her, too fueled with adrenaline to notice you follow closely as sudden strikes of pure cauldron power shot down and destroyed the warriors you had just flown alongside. You landed on the battlefield with such force it split the soil, Cassian’s head turning towards you rapidly locking eyes on you as you both found yourselves smiling at one another. 

“YN, you came!” “I miss you Cass, stay alive” You called back before bolting back into the now-cleared skies as more and more warriors rose to replace the fallen. From above, you covered Feyre unbeknownst to her, the collective goal having more importance in this moment. You watch as she reaches the cauldron with Amren allowing you to double back and continue your onslaught. Rhysand’s true beast form rises from the ground and you feel a bolt of fear at the pure sight of him. You swoop down to meet his side as he tears into the enemy, Helion dashing to join his side as he reforms himself into his beastly counterpart. 

“YN!!!” Rhysand roars down to you as you sprint around him, you leap on top of a razor-sharp talon as he shoots towards the sky, your knotty hand pressing into the scales of the High Lord. The feeling of familiar pure unadulterated power coursed through your veins, never did you think you’d mirror the High Lord again, the traces of betrayal tinging the power as it blasted from your outstretched hands to mist a sizable amount of enemy forces. Bryaxis coursed around you, shielding you from any retaliation as Rhysand and Helion unleashed on the battlefield. 

“I have to get to Feyre!” You hear Rhysand screech out as you cover him along his way towards his mate, the shift in the air undeniable as Amren is released from her bindings. You defend the space the cauldron occupies, allowing Rhysand to rush to Feyre’s side. Something cracks deep in you as you hear the High Lady of Night shriek in pure pain, fearing Rhysand has taken his final breath. You winnow to Tamlin as he sinks tendrils of power into some stragglers of the Hybern arm. 

“Tam! With me!” He has no hesitation in taking your hand, you winnow with him to where the cauldron claimed its price, Feyre begging for help from the High Lords. A chill shoots up your spine, rattling your bones. Your face hardened before you reached for Helion’s hand, mirroring his energy before you sank back into the shadows, following your own thread to land alongside Azriel, his wings in tatters as you dropped to his side. 

“YNN” he writhed out in pain, your arms encapsulating him, you feel Helion's power course through you as you attempt to heal him back to whole, your own body crying out in pain from the events of the war.

“It’s okay Azriel I’m here, I’m here” Your tears fell into his hair as you clung his head to your chest, his own heartbeat struggling to match yours. The light flowed across your disjointed digits, stitching the centuries-old wounds together as it poured into Azriel.

“I wish I didn’t let you leave that night YN” “I wish I didn’t leave you that night” You cried out, gently rocking him back and forth, his hand landing on your forearm to hold you closer. 

“I wish to carry a piece of you with me forever YNN”

“You can have all of me Azriel” You stretched down to meet his lips before he used what little energy he had to lean in, fully surrendering to every dream he dreamt of you from the moment you pulled the knife from his wing centuries ago. The glow that radiated from your energy returned and Azriel once again wished to bask in it for the rest of his days. His torn flesh stitched together as the healing energy flowed between the two of you. The feeling of home you never thought you’d have again blazed through every cell until it was just you, Azriel and shadows of onyx mirroring one another's endless hope for the future. 

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