#love lies bleeding fic

[blackdahliaxoxo]

Hot on your heels. 🥀

˚₊‧⁺ † 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི † ˚₊‧⁺ Fic Song (YouTube)

“Lipstick on a cigarette stub. Kiss me like you love me and touch me like you’re pissed off.”

♡ sort of sub! Lou Langston x sort of dom! Reader

Synopsis: After a night out with Lou teasing you all night, you were irritated with her. On the way home you give her payback.

Warnings: MDNI (minors/men DNI), high heel play (Lou! receiving), slight degrading, pet names, cunnilingus/fingering (r! receiving)

a/n: sry if this sucks this is my first time ever writing a fic/smut :) lmk wat u think n feel free to give me tips

wc: 1.5k

After a night out dancing and drinking with Lou, you were annoyed. She kept teasing you in the dark bar, touching you but never letting you get more. When you’d go to touch her, she wouldn’t allow it. To add on to your annoyance, she spilt alcohol on your dress from her clumsy fingers. As cigarette smoke filled your nose from her addicted lips as she drove home. You were fed up with her. With crossed arms in the passenger, you kept quiet looking out the window.

She looked over at you, “you mad at me or something?” she snickered. Knowing exactly how you feel. You scoffed and bit on the inside of your cheek. Flicking your head as she did her cigarette, you looked at her. She smiled in amusement, flashing the shiny aluminum beer tab she had in between her teeth. Another habit of hers.

You unbuckled yourself and put your legs up, sitting facing her. With no console in the middle of her 1970s blue and white Ford pick up, it made it easy for you to do what you wanted. You jabbed her thigh with your heel, and she winced and her thigh jumped to get away; “Ok ok, I’m sorry” she lightly chuckled. “No your not” you smiled and leaned over to kiss her neck. Sucking on it roughly and biting at the skin. She tried to move away some, you grabbed her jaw. “Stay still” you kissed her jaw and down her neck again. Holding back the bites.

You slid back to your seat, her brows furrowed to the sudden stop. You lifted your short snug dress up slightly and hooked your thumbs on the sides of your panties. Pulling them down and out from under your heels. Lou’s eyes kept glancing at you and back at the road. “Babe-…” she was caught off by you tossing them at her. She swallowed and tried to watch the road and you the best she could. You sat facing her again and spread open your thighs. From all the teasing Lou did to you all night, your slick glistened as street lamps went by.

“Fuck” she breathed out, staring between your thighs more than the road. You started touching yourself, rubbing small circles on your clit, letting out a breath from finally feeling some friction. Lou grips the steering wheel and pulls the truck on the side of the road. “No, keep driving” you said while jabbing your heel on her inner thigh. She leaned over and with one hand to touch you where she desperately needed to, but you quickly swatted her hand away with your foot; “I didn’t say you could touch me”. She lets out a irritated breath, “you’re such a tease”.

You let out a breathy chuckle, “I’m the tease? After what you’ve been doing all night to me?”. You sat up and unbuttoned her jeans, hooking your fingers under her boxers, she lifted up some to help you. She kissed your neck and quickly pulled away to keep her eyes on the road. “Please” came out soft from her lips. You kissed her neck and ran your hand down her chest to her inner thighs, gripping the flesh there. “Please what? Use your words” you said slapping her inner thigh and catching the skin on her neck between your teeth. She lets out a groan, “Please.. touch me”. You ran your fingers up her pussy collecting her slick, “Here?”. “Fuck yes, please” she gasped. With her slick on your fingers you sat back in your seat facing her, parting your legs and mixing her slick with your own. Rubbing circles.

She rubbed her hand over her face, “Fuck you’re making this hard for me”. You smile, knowing you got your payback. You placed your heel in between her legs, pressing the leather against her clit. She tenses, letting out a breath and looks over at you. “Rub your pussy against my heel” you said to her with mirrored actions to your own with your fingers. Her eyebrows raised and her lips parted slightly. Starting to grind herself against your heel slowly, small breaths left her mouth. She pulled into her driveway but you both remained in the truck. She gripped onto your calf and inner thigh, grinding her clit faster on your heel. The softness of her breaths quickened as she threw her head back on the head rest. “Look at how pathetic you look. You like to get off on my high heel huh?” you clicked your tongue, shaking your head “You dirty girl”. You ran your fingers up your pussy, collecting your slick and putting them in her mouth. Her face heated up and she let out a muffled moan around your fingers. Her body shuddered as she kept grinding against your heel. With your wet spit covered fingers, you added it to your wetness, touching yourself to the show she put on.

She could hear how wet you were by doing that, “Fuck, I want to taste you”. She started speeding up against the leather as she watched you, “Fuck, I wanna feel you”. “I wanna f-“ cut off by her own moan as she got closer. You could hear how wet she was, the squelching against the material. “I’m gonna cum mama, please can I cum?” she begged as she kept grinding harder, holding onto your leg tightly. Her groans were broken, her voice raspy now, her actions pathetic. You could feel the heat on your foot, trying hard yourself not to reach over and touch her. She needed her payback. You nod with parted lips and heavy eyes, “Yeah baby cum for me”. Your voice now pathetic. Her eyes squeezed shut, her head hitting the head rest, as she moaned out your name. Squeezing your calf and thigh tightly as her body shuddered. She slowed her hips down and you could hear her heavy breathing.

You raised your heel that was shiny with her slick to her mouth, “Now lick it clean”. Your words sent another jolt through her, and another as she tasted her own arousal. You watched as her tongue worked on cleaning the leather. “Such a good girl” you cooed. She roughly kissed you with her own cum wet on your lips, tasting her you couldn’t help but let out a muffled moan into the kiss. She tugged on your hair from the back and pulled it, breaking the kiss. Her desperate lips hovered over yours, “Please, can I touch you now?”. “Please” you softly said in almost a whine from how bad you needed something, anything at this point. In punishing her, you punished yourself.

Lou began kissing and sucking on your neck as she groped your breasts. She lowered herself between your legs as you sat up to give her more room in the limited space. “Fuck your so wet” she said as she spread open your lips softly with her fingers. She flicked your clit with her tongue and a loud gasp escaped you. “Damn, you taste as sweet as your pink, pretty pussy looks” she said as your hands tugged on her hair. She spit on it, letting it fall down slowly and land on your slit. You bucked your hips in need, “Please”. She looks up at you from between your legs, “Now look who’s begging”. Before you could say something smart back she started sucking on your clit harshly, lapping at all your wetness. You tugged on her hair and a sob-like moan broke through your throat. From all the teasing since the night began to now, you knew you weren’t gonna last long.

She easily entered two fingers inside you, “Fuck you’re sucking me in”. Your back arched as she thrusted needily into you, eating you out. Your loud squelches made your face heat up, your wetness spilling out between her fingers. Her tongue ran between your folds, warm and wet. Her fingers hit that right spot inside of you that only made you more desperate. You bucked your hips down onto her tongue, “Your mouth feels so good”. Her mouth was hot and so were you. As you kept grinding down to meet with her tongue, she moaned into your pussy; shooting vibrations into you. You looked down at her and grasped her hair, as her other hand was touching herself; the sight bringing you closer. “F-fuck I’m gonna cum Lou, please keep going”, your voice broke out. “Cum for me baby” her words came out muffled by you.

Her fingers kept hitting that spot, causing you to gasp and whine out “please” again and again. You felt the pressure in your stomach break, a high spreading through your body. Your legs shook as Lou kept going till you fully rode it out. “Shhh, such a good girl” she cooed at you as you were calming down. A sigh left you as you looked down at her. Softly smiling while she sucked your juices off her fingers, “Now look who’s the pathetic one”.

xoxo 💋

[r3starttt]

Can you please do a sugar mommy! Abby x reader (Abby is a sub in private but everyone thinks the opposite)

"Feels good, mommy? yeah?" your breath hits the skin of her neck, already covered in a few bruises. the tip of your digits rubbing her clit in small circles. She nods stupidly, quiet babbling and meaningless words brushing past her lips. "look at you, mommy's such a slut mhm?" she just panted in response.

Your fingers slowly went down her core, sissoring her sticky folds just to watch that pretty look on her face. her eyebrows furrowing, almost quivering, her mouth slightly open, not bothering in letting out more than muffled whines "want my fingers inside you? want me to stretch you out mommy?" her pretty eyes opened just to look at you, her brain alreadh fuzzy.

her puppy eyes and stupid blabbers begging you to do so "nuh uh, words" you command, giving her pussy a few slaps "mhm- yes!" she groans, practically screaming at you, and you waste no time, thrusting your fingers inside her, feeling her clench Inmediatly.

sticky arousal connecting your fingers and hand to her cunt. "so wet f'this fingers aren't you? bet you wanna cum so bad" her hands grab at your breasts, massaging them for some comfort. the lingerie she bought for you just some hours ago lingering right above them, her hands palming the texture. ever since she saw the set... she would've fuck you right there, or that's what she said to your ear right when she was about to pay.

The small space between your bodies filled by the obscene wet sound of your fingers being sucked in by her hole. faster and faster until, your name being repeated like a desperate plead for more, like a prayer. "mommy's gonna cum? yeah?" you mocked at her, feeling her legs fighting to stay wide and open for you. your digits moving with ease at her wetness slowly struggle to keep the speed. she was so tight.

cries and sloppy pleads pass through her lips in response "what's that?" you play oblivious, observing her pretty eyes roll back, probably both annoyed and to drunk in pleasure, her hands hesitate before grabbing your ass "p-please, wanna cum, let me cum"

you thrusts become intense, deep. toying with her clit whenever the chance was given. "cum for me mommy, go on, wanna feel you cumming on my fingers, yeah?" her whimpers pierce through your ears. you're such a good girl for her.

[nym-wibbly]

Love Lies Bleeding by Nym #8

"It's all about those boys, isn't it?" Naomi won't stop talking.

All resistance weakens under sustained attack. As an obedient servant of Heaven, Castiel used that fact without remorse or mercy, a blunt instrument. How many times did these angels who answer to no god have him honed to mindless perfection? Sword. Hammer. Castiel. He's slipping away.

"Those chaotic apes. We thought it was this vessel at first." Naomi lifts his chin as his grip on consciousness weakens, dragging him back to focus on her eyes. Blood pools quickly in her palm before overspilling to mark her crisp, white cuff. "That he changed you somehow, polluted you. The bloodline, some error in the Novak DNA. But everything in your mind is tainted with Winchester." She speaks the name the same way she says corruption and dereliction of duty. Revolted. Insulted. "You haven't even been inside one of them."

On his best days, Castiel struggles with the human art of double entendre. Still, he thinks of Dean immediately, of a wickedly raised eyebrow and smothered smirk behind the neck of a cold beer bottle, of how factually wrong Naomi's statement is on the crudest possible level, and breaks out laughing, laughing, laughing through the spraying blood until Naomi backhands him hard across the face to make it stop.

When his vision stops popping with red-black stars and he focuses again, he can plainly see the naked terror in her snarl of disgust.

[potatoesandsunshine]

small jobs is just so fiddly. like to work on it i reread the whole series, open like six documents, consult the chart that has the timeline and the quests that have been completed, open four more tabs of the wiki which works like it always does (badly), wait for the wind to be right, despair that i've lost sight of the core philosophy of the 'verse, and then i sit there imagining the courier and red lucy hooking up back when she had 9 luck before the game even started for like forty five minutes and i don't actually get any new writing done. and yes it's my favorite thing to write.

[solbaby7]

I love your work, and I’ve been creeping on your master list and it’s so good 😭❤️❤️❤️… pls do one with Azriel and AFAB reader who finds out first that they’re true mates but says nothing at all, too scared that he’ll reject her cause he’s in love with Elain and she witnesses the whole necklace gifting/almost kiss between them and runs away, tries to avoid both of them for days and gets sick or injured or something and that’s when Az realizes it too and smut ensues 🫶😭❤️

Since You Have A Lover

pairing : azriel x afab!reader

warnings: angst babe, torture too (oops👀🤣), not proofread, swearing, probs typos, mild smut at the end, testing out the longer fics and then we’re gonna figure out if longer or shorter is better 🫣

thank you for the request bean! i switched it up a little to add some much needed angst but i’m so happy you’ve been enjoying 💗💗

oh and…educate a girl. wtf is afab?👀 respectfully ofc

—

Deep breaths and a lowered gaze is how you make it through family dinners as your stomach lurches uncomfortably.

The feeling never got easier, even after months of enduring the debilitating emotions that ensued from watching your mate love another.

It’s instinctual to be jealous—to compare yourself to Elain when Azriel refused to tear his eyes away. He was supposed to be your equal and yet the longer dinner went on with overhearing their hushed conversation and not-so-sneaky touches under the table; you felt anything but suitable in comparison.

Drowning those thoughts is surprisingly easy, a plethora of wine bottles are scattered about the table and not a single person bats an eye when you snatch one up for yourself. They’re too caught up in each other to realize you’ve slipped away; abandoning the suffocating love that permeated from every direction besides your own.

Fresh air helps a little, the stolen bottle of wine aiding in keeping you warm from the unforgiving nighttime chill. Eventually the cool bite doesn’t send shivers down your spine and you barely even flinch when bare skin meets cold stone, your gaze dipping down to lively town below.

Time moves too quickly as the observer, seconds bleeding into minutes until hours have passed and the bottle has nothing left to offer. There’s a brief moment where your foggy brain contemplates the effort it would take to retrieve another when your solitude is broken.

Two bodies burst through the balcony doors on the furthest side, mostly concealed by trees and flowers but you’d recognize those wings anywhere. A hand smacks over your mouth to conceal any sound, body freezing in place as you witness Azriel press Elain into the wall, his hands cradling the sides of her face lovingly.

A part of you shatters when you catch that sparkle in his eye, the eagerness in his movement to have her closer until her cheeks go flush and thick lashes flutter closed in preparation for the sweet kiss Azriel is sure to grant her.

You’re unable to stomach another moment and neither of them even flinch when you shuffle from your spot and make a bee-line for the exit. Tears cloud your vision, shoulders shaking and steps unsteady as you all but run through the halls, darting up the stairs and colliding right into another body. “Oh,” The startled sound is all but whimpered out of you and red eyes and splotchy cheeks are the first thing Nesta sees as you look up. “Gods, I’m sorry.” You scramble to your feet, retrieving the book she’d dropped in the collision. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching here I was going.”

“That’s not like you.”

A weak smile quirks at the corner of your mouth, unbound hair in unruly strands down your shoulders. “I’m not quite myself at the moment.”

Nesta hums in response, slender arms crossing over her chest and the fabrics of her nightgown shifts with the motion. Her gaze is scrutinizing, picking apart the truth from the lies and you’re infinitely grateful that she doesn’t call you out on your state of disarray. “Want me to walk you to your room?”

“No.” You whisper, hastily wiping your cheeks and attempting to smooth down stray hairs and wrinkled silks. “No, I think I’m going to go for a walk instead. I could use the fresh air.”

“It’s three in the morning.”

Nesta's neck cranes, slowly turning on the balls of her feet as you swiftly slip past her and make way for your chambers. Perhaps, it's the defeated slump of your shoulders that catches Lady Death's attention; that emptiness in your eyes that couldn't even be filled by the overflowing tears that stained your cheeks.

She considers waking Cassian--he always was better equipped to handle the emotions of others but you're already gone, disappearing behind the door without even saying goodnight. Something about the interaction forces her to linger, smutty book long forgotten as she waits to see you creep out that same room ten minutes later.

You're dressed to better accommodate the weather now. Thick leathers insulating body heat while subconsciously providing much needed compression--the tight fabric mimics comfort in its attempt to hold together the broken bits of you shoved inside.

Nesta's lips part, a million possible words resting at the tip of her tongue but you're quick to intercept, tone numb and alarmingly empty. "Don't wait up."

--

Being alone was supposed to be relaxing.

Distracting, at the very least.

But, all you could feel was the cool prickle of awareness at the back of your neck the whole time you sat at the edge of the mountains that overlooked the Sidra. Each time you'd slow your breathing and attempt to regulate the unusual beat of your heart with the captivating view of Velaris at night. While most were inside, the homes that resided there were full of life; lights glowing golden through their windows, laughs ebbing through the woodwork and creating a sense of serenity that refuses to wash over you as well.

Eyes narrow, shoulders squaring and fingers twitch for the sharp daggers strapped to your thighs. The thick trees you’d come through seems far less attractive now, branches craning out like grabbing hands with gaps of murky darkness that resembled giant mouths waiting to swallow you up. “Nesta?”

The chuckle that breaks through the clearing is anything but feminine. “Not quite.”

It happens too fast--the hand that smacks over your mouth to mute the startled scream that rips free. You push against the solid wall of a body stationed behind you, attempting to sway his stability in order to break free but a sharp sting in your neck renders you still.

The burn that follows is instant and before you can stop it, the unforgiving darkness becomes all you know.

--

The palpable tension at breakfast is suffocating.

Azriel's seething brood casts angsty shadows along his strong build, creating a visible wall between himself and his High Lord after the stern conversation he was forced into the night before. It runs on repeat in the shadow singers mind, the order given to back off on his affections towards the middle Archeron sister.

It seems cruel. A sick form of punishment that Azriel can't quite wrap his mind around because who was really in charge of the tragectory of his life? Azriel ? Or his High Lord?

The mere thought has his teeth grinding in silent contempt, his gaze flickering around the table before landing on the bare spot directly across from him. His brows furrow, confusion briefly sweeping away the rage as he considers the time--your usual schedule and the words leave his mouth before he can stop them. "Where is she?"

A brief pause, the casual conversation slowing to a halt until Azriel catches a glimpse of something on Nesta's face--a strain of guilt he'd seen a million times on a trillion different faces. "Left earlier this morning." Polished silverware scrapes at fine china, pushing aside food that her body refuses to indulge in. "Said she was going for a walk."

Discontentment settles into Azriel's bones--a feeling he struggles to understand and Nesta's answer only exasperates the unsteady sensation.

"In this weather?" Grey clouds are thick in the sky, shades of slate and granite completely masking the sun as relentless rains pour down from above. "When was this?"

"Around three."

Cassian swears lowly from beside his mate, a sturdy hand resting at her shoulders but the regret lacing his features speaks plenty about the decision to stay quiet for so long. It was too dangerous, especially after the last few meetings Rhys had with Kier in Hewn. Change took time and the Steward and his men were complaining about that change taking too long. Hateful words were thrown in the name of the people of Hewn City and how they had desires too; dreams of a better world for themselves and their children but the High Lord’s better judgement rose question to the other consequences that could arise from giving what they were asking for. "Ness that was nearly eight hours ago."

The screech of Azriel's chair draws attention, a sudden boost of fuel being injected in his veins. "Did she tell you where she was going exactly?"

Nesta’s tone turns into vitriol, a subconscious reaction to the guilt that gnawed at her bones for not seeking for you sooner after finding you in your state. The reminder of tears streaming down your face flashes behind her eyelids; the choppiness of your words through labored breathing. How desperately you’d attempted to wrangle it together just long enough to make it to your room and suddenly the eldest Archeron feels that familiar uselessness creep beneath her skin. “She didn’t leave me a map with a drawn out route—she just said she needed air.”

“While crying?” It wasn’t intentional, Rhysand seeing the flash of memory that Nesta had unknowingly projected; her mental walls caving for just a fraction of a minute before the iron doors had regained their formidable security. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Silverware clatters against the table, staining table linen in strawberry jam but no one seems to give a shit when the severity of the situation behinds to settle over the room. Nesta runs a hand against the material of her dress, smoothening out wrinkles and creases in order to avoid all of the eyes settling over her face. “I was just going to the library to read and we bumped into each other. She came from the balcony—I offered to walk her to her room but she just…” A sigh pulls free, jaw setting tightly. “I let her go.”

“Nesta.” Feyre’s slow shake of her head holds enough disappointment to have Nesta’s shoulders squaring on the defensive.

“I’m not some evil bitch, I waited up!” She seethes, the beginnings of those silver flames lapping at the steely grey of her eyes but the fight within isn’t truly directed towards Feyre or anyone else but herself. Because she’d felt the exact moment that you walked from the doors and winnowed away, that she’d made a grave mistake. Nesta’s shoulders sag, fingers bunching unforgivingly into the inky linen cloth until she felt the tips of her nails digging into the polished mahogany underneath. “I waited.”

Azriel’s already out of the room without a word.

He didn’t have a right to shame her because Azriel had a feeling he knew what sent you running.

His teeth grind together when thinking back to the night before when he and Elain had scuffled off onto the balcony at the witching hour; hoping their sins would be shielded by the dark cast of night. Too caught up in one another to consider another already occupying the space.

And, no matter how many times Azriel brushed his fingertips over the soft curve of Elain’s cheeks or vyed for a fleeting touch when passing in the hallways—the kiss he thought he wanted lacked the spark he was sure would flicker to life when lips grazed.

He’d pulled away so abruptly, brows furrowing in a stark line discontentment that was visible to anyone with eyes and then he heard the broken whimper of a gasp.

It’s been too easy to pass it off as Elain and far easier for him to forget about it altogether after Rhysand had found an embarrassed Elain rushing back to her room with flushed cheeks and an unsteady gait. He’d never heard his brother shout so loud, the veins in his neck protruding as he ordered Azriel to never even look her way again. That if a quick fuck in the dead of the night was what he desired then Azriel should wander along the cobblestone streets of Velaris and find himself a suitable pleasure house and pay for it.

The words act as fuel, Azriel’s senses working on overdrive; shadows scrying for information faster than ever before until they’d returned with something he could work with.

Dropped neatly in his palms were the cool steel of your twin blades that never left the secure holsters forever strapped to your thighs.

And they were soaked in your blood.

—

You recognized the suffocating dank smell that tended to fester when stuffed so far beneath the earth—the perfect dungeon.

One you’d been in countless times before, wearing that shadowy mask of indifference when masquerading as the soulless monster that became necessary to survive while in Hewn City. It took decades of assistance by Azriel’s side; an apprentice of sorts when the bounds of your affections had just begun testing its limits—wondering to see just how far you’d go just to be near him.

To get him to notice you. Your mate. Yours. Yours.

All of that seems so foolish now. Insignificant compared to the dire situation you’d found yourself entangled in.

Sharp twinges of pain throb up your neck, aches settling in from the uncomfortable position and it’s a strain when you shift in attempts to take in your surroundings. Fear lurches in your chest when your hands don’t move, restrained by chains that had you hung up like a prized hog after a fresh hunt.

Not good. Not good. Not good. So, not good.

“I always did love that look.” Immediately your spine goes ramrod straight, fingers clenching into fists over the cool bite of the chains as that voice washed over you like a bucket of water. Refreshing on your own terms and a horrible wake up call when it wasn’t. “When panic shifts into realization—truly a sight worth capturing. Especially when attached to such a delicate disposition.”

Delicate?

You’d never once used that word in ordinance to yourself.

Hearing it now, under such circumstances makes your heart lurch, it’s beat untamed against your ribcage and it takes every bit of strength left to smooth that look of utter calm across your features. “Come a little closer, let me show you how sweet I can get.”

The underlying threat is easily palpable and Kier is wise not to follow the bait; aware of the wounded animals ability to put up a considerable fight and he’s too coward to brawl fairly. “As tempting as that is, it won’t be me who plays with you tonight.” Your teeth bare into a snarl, pure promise rumbling from your chest and the sound encourages a chuckle from the male.

He’s not close enough to injure; to swing the brunt of your weight around for a well-timed kick that you knew would disable long enough to figure a way out of these damn restraints. But even with the distance between you, the resemblance between this male and Mor was striking. She’d inherited the shape of his lips, even if the words she spoke were far sweeter than the shit spewed from her predecessor. More similarities are spotted during your scrutinizing evaluation of him; the line of his nose, the shade of his hair, the confident air that oozed from his form—no matter how misplaced it was.

“I’ll kill anyone who dares lay a finger on me.”

“So much fight in you,” Kier all but croons, his eyes raking across your body in a way that was less than savory. “I can’t wait to see how long it lasts.”

Breathe.

Years of training beside the spymaster had prepared you for this very moment and it’s easier to drift back into the memory of just another session; before things had gotten so complicated and he’d just been a friend eager to teach if you were willing to learn. Countless times you’d been in a similar situation—you, waking up tied up to some chair with ropes securing every possible joint in place and Azriel would leave you there as long as it took for you to figure your way out of it.

Allow the thrum of your heart be the beat that keeps you focused.

Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

Relax and take in your surroundings. Notice things no one else thinks is important because that could be the one thing that keeps you from an untimely death.

The cell wasn’t very large, four stone walls covered in grime and mildew with just enough space for two grown men to fit semi-comfortably. No windows. One door with a thin slot at the top large enough for two eyes to peer inside. No fire. No light. No warmth. No breeze, just stale, dank air that tasted of iron when your breathed in too deep.

Just stay alive long enough to get help.

“What do you want from me?”

Kier inhales a greedy breath, his chest expanding in the ornate armor worn. It glistens even with no light—proving that even with his privileged title, he was never the one who got his hands dirty. “Many things,” He finally confessed, the words airy and nonchalant. He’s too cocky. Too comfortable. “But first, I want you to tell me about the Cursebreakers sisters.” He dares a step closer, arms crossed casually behind his back as a dark look begins to worm its way into his eye. “I want you to tell me everything you know about the Made ones and the power they stole from the Cauldron.”

Breathe. Focus on your heart beat. Stay alive.

Breathe. Focus on your heart beat. Stay alive.

Breathe. Focus on your heart beat. Stay alive.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A smile works its way across his face—one so familiar it taints good memories with its stain. “I hoped you’d say that.” Kier walks past, the smell of his cologne burning your nostrils and you couldn’t imagine ever smelling tobacco and ash, bergamot and oakmoss without gagging ever again.

One knock on the thick steel door and slender male with hair like soot and eyes like a raven enters.

Your face remains a blank slate. Even as you take in the rubber material of his apron and the sturdy material of his leather boots. Well used gloves cover his hands and tucked under his left arm is a rawhide holder filled to the brim with all kinds of terrifying treats.

Breathe. Focus on your heart beat. Stay alive.

“Who are you?”

He takes his sweet time answering. Making a show of neatly setting down the holder and undoing the braided leather straps holding it in place. “You can call me the Butcher—everyone else does.”

“How original.” A thick swallow to quell the nerves; to shove away the shake that threatened to disturb your carefully curated cadence. The chains rattle as you shift, the tips of your toes just barely skimming the cool ground beneath you but not quite enough to relieve your wrists of the burden of bearing the entirety of your weight. “Well, Butcher—come make yourself useful and loosen my chains, will you? It’s starting to chafe a bit.”

His head shakes in his denial, barely acknowledging the departing Steward and the heavy thud of the shutting door—a lock sliding into place. “You don’t really want me to do that.” For donning such a threatening title, the Butcher is deceivingly soft-spoken. It sends your nerves into a fritz, triggering your fight or flight and for the first time since your eyes had opened and the darkness had waned; that delicately woven web of control slips from your grasp. “If you’re as stubborn as I think you are,” The sharp ring of metal twangs through the air and in his grasp is a perfectly polished knife a little too curved to be considered a scalpel. “You’ll need something to hold onto. It helps with the pain…for a time.”

Breathe.

“Then let’s just get this over with, shall we?”

Butcher chuckles low under his breath, full lips concealed by an ever fuller beard—the only thing about him that wasn’t perfectly trim and proper. “Not a fan of foreplay?”

Fingers curl around the cool bite of thick chains, your chest rising and falling in a steady pattern as you began to dissociate. An attempt to keep your mind as protected as possible from whatever was to come. “I’m more of a rip-the-bandaid kind of girl.”

Death clings to the pristinely polished rubber of his apron, the creak of his gloves filling the space as worn fingers ready around the hilt of his weapon. “You know,” Inhale through your nose, exhale through your mouth. Disappear off into that numb place deep, deep within your mind. Ignore the bite of the blade poking around already sensitive wounds. “Under entirely different circumstances, I think I might’ve actually liked you.”

The switch flips so fast—too fast for you to catch but it’s impossible to miss the devastating burn that ripples through you as flesh is severed, muscle flayed and so, so much blood spilled.

It’s hard to keep track of how much time passes down here without access to windows and you’re certain that it’s intentional, aiding in the psychological aspect of their torture.

Relax and take in your surroundings. Notice things no one else thinks is important because that could be the one thing that keeps you from an untimely death.

The masculine baritone of Azriel’s teachings repeated like a mantra in your mind until it becomes the only thing distracting you from the sound of your flesh tearing, your blood drip, drip, dripping a misshapen puddle beneath you.

You force yourself to keep conscious, mentally noting anything your eyes are able to latch onto. Insignificant things; ebony hair, umber skin, a brand burned into the middle of Butcher’s left wrist in a symbol half-obscured by his gloves.

There’s a block on your powers, not quite faebane in its most lethal dose but paired with the wards humming against the walls, you knew using magic wouldn’t be an option for you. “Tell me about the Made ones and I can stop.”

“I don’t know anything.”

Just stay alive long enough to get help.

“You live there with them,” Butcher goads, crooked teeth exposed when gritted into that grimace of a sneer. Leather creaks under the playful twist of his wrist, the sharpened blade carving at muscle and obliterating sinew until you swear it reaches bone. “You share drink and food, you fight beside them in battle and you expect us to believe that secrets aren’t shared as well?” Every breath is ragged, a sheen of sweat coating your skin and unruly hair sticks to the curve of your neck. “Tell me what you know before I decide to get a little more creative in my methods.”

“Even if I did know anything, why the hell would I tell you? What would Hewn scum do with such knowledge?”

Your words have nicked a nerve, robbing the Butcher of that soft-spoken charm and replacing it with something more sinister. “You say the same thing to that bastard Illyrian you’re always seen around?”

A brow quirks, furrowing ever so slightly as it became more and more apparent that this was more than some spur of the moment kidnapping. Their questions, the desire to keep you immobile and battered but not enough to render you unconscious—not enough to be fatal. For whatever reason, they needed you alive and judging by the desperation that claws its way to the edges of Butchers voice, his curses and demands falling on deaf ears as your mind runs on overdrive to accumulate all the information you could before it was too late.

Each breath grows more labored, lashes fluttery and thick with exhaustion but just when it feel like too much—when you feel like giving up and succumbing to the sweet oblivion.

The rake of talons brushes against your mental walls. A cautious prod, testing your durability and utter relief washes over you when that feline lilt floods your consciousness. “We’re coming, just stay awake.”

The syllables barely reach your ears, sound faded by the obnoxious ringing that refused to subside—a side affect from all the fucking screaming and shouting. Swears slurring together the longer you snapped at the male before you, knees jerking and wounds barking in agony when the heel of your foot smashes so hard into his nose, his skull caves in; limp body dropping to the floor with a thud.

It’s all the strength you have in you and the death-grip you have around the chains is released all at once. Time moves in slow motion as you dangle there, vision darkening at the edges and that thrum of your heartbeat loud enough to distract you anymore. “Rhys they want— they want…”

So much blood oozes from your wounds, drenching your leathers all the way through and you were definitely feeling the affects. Your vision blurs, lids going lazy with just enough time to hear that voice—Azriel’s voice bellowing your name. “Stay alive.” He mutters over and over and over when he’s finally reached you, adrenaline pumping so high that he breaks the chains from their bolt with nothing more than his bare hands. “Do you hear me? Don’t you dare fucking die on me.”

You swear you try to obey the command, desiring nothing more than to keep Azriel's attention after finally being front and center in it. But it just felt so safe held in his grasp, tucked so close to his chest while he rids you of your restraints and applies pressure to gaping wounds.

All you wanted was one second. If you closed your eyes just for a second to gather your wits then you'd wake up and everything would be okay.

It sounds like a good idea-- so good that you allow the peace to wash over you like a cool tide washing over the shore in the early days of the burning summer; ignoring the desperate shouts from a vignette of voices that fades in the background like the haunting final notes of a song.

—

Confusion crashes at you in unforgiving waves, memories --or were they dreams?-- flash behind your lids with each blink. A dull throb pounds behind your lids, aggravating your mental shields to the point where you feel them wobble with each breath.

"You should stay still." Azriel's saying without giving you time to clear through the dense fog plaguing your mind. Instead, he busies his hands with fussing over your blankets, carefully tucking bare toes and pressing a five finger grip on your sternum when you attempt to rise from the soft cushion of a mattress that certainly did not belong to you. "It took Madja a while to get you all stitched up. Are you in pain? She left ointments and a few tinctures."

He's graceful enough not to mention the owlish blink of your eyes and their befuddled examination of his room until the crackly rasp of your voice cuts through the space; both of you refusing to address the elephant in the room. "My head hurts a little."

"Yeah," Shadows fuss with warm rags, sweeping it over your forehead and dabbing it along your cheeks while others occupy themselves with filling a glass of water to offer. "Rhys will be by later to apologize for that, I'm sure."

Your brows furrow deeply, nose scrunching when you sip your water. "Apologize for what?"

"You were in distress. We thought you were going to--" Azriel abruptly cuts himself off, fingers curling into fists at his sides. "Rhys went in your mind, said that before you'd gone unconscious that you were trying to tell him something that seemed urgent enough to bypass the usual request to wait for permission."

Your heart begins to pick up speed in your chest and suddenly the desire to rise from this bed and run away was becoming horribly intense. Legs shift under the weight of a duvet that didn't belong to you, attempting to hide the way your sore muscles sink into the overwhelming scent of night-chilled mist. "Okay...and what did he see?"

"He saw you get taken," Azriel turns his back to you, expertly avoiding your eyes but the nervous energy buzzing off his skin was unmistakable. "He watched them carve you up and torture you for information about Nesta and Elain." The stabilizing breath he takes shakes his shoulders, the strong line of muscle barely concealed by the tight stretch of his leathers--leathers still stained in the blood of those who'd spilled yours, no doubt. "Rhys said that you didn't say a word. You didn't give them a thing."

"That's good, right?" A pillow is fluffed behind you, shadows doting on every need. "Then, why do you sound so upset?"

"Why do I sound so upset?" Azriel cruelly mocks, his aurate gaze positively smoldering with rage when they land on you. "Because, you almost died! You almost died in my fucking arms before I ever got the chance to—. What the hell were you thinking?"

The beating you'd endured does nothing to quell your fiery spirit, eyes lighting with life and lips running a mile a minute—too fast for your logical brain to keep up with. "I was thinking that they wanted information on your precious, little girlfriend." You all but spit out, childishly pushing away the comfort the duvet from your legs as you attempt to shuffle from Azriel's bed without disturbing the tight wrap of your bandages. Why the hell were you in here anyway? "I was thinking that maybe, it'd be easier for them to fucking butcher me rather than watch what would happen to you if it were Elain there in my place."

Silence stretches along the hardwood floor, cloaking up the length of the walls and muting out the low crackle of the fireplace; its flame gentle and calm in the midst of an emotional storm. "I almost wish you would've let it be her." Azriel fills the void, finally mustering up the courage to face you. "I could've survived that and whatever consequences came along with it because my mate takes precedence above all."

Just like that, all the spitfire you’d prepared in retaliation absolutely dissipates after hearing those two words. “Your mate.”

Azriel doesn’t confirm with words. Instead, he searches inside for the humming gold thread wrapped taut around his ribs, just above his heart and pulls. Fucking yanking at it with all his might and something sparkles in his eye when your body jerks in retaliation.

“You know?”

“How long have you known?”

Your heartbeat hammers against your ribcage, threatening to carve out a hole if that’s what it took to get to its other half. “A while.”

“And you’ve said nothing.” He says, tone sounding almost defeated. “Why wouldn’t you have said anything?”

“Because, Az,” The shadows have seized their tireless caretaking, sliding back into place beside their master as you lose the ability to accept the tender affection. “You wouldn’t have chosen me. Not before Mor and certainly not before Elain.” You’re quick to bristle over that part, not leaving any room for the spymaster to interrupt no matter how expressive his face became. “Besides, the bond is a choice not a burden and that’s what it would’ve been for you if I spoke up about it.” Pure determination is what allows you to bear the brunt of your weight , willing yourself to appear strong in the face of the male who could render you to cinders if he so pleased. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d really like to shower the dungeon smell off of me.”

A childish whine of a noise is ripped from your throat when Azriel huffs out a breath, murmuring something about you being stubborn as hell before carefully picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom. It's embarrassing, a furious blush burning at the apples of your cheeks as he starts the shower, adjusts the temperature and slowly sets you down. "Thank you for that but you don't have to do this. I can handle cleaning myself."

"You can barely stand on solid ground on your own."

"I'll manage."

"I know. What I'm saying is that you don't have to." You nearly faint on the spot when Azriel crouches down in front of you, his hands shaky but sure when unlatching the difficult ties of your fighting leathers. His teeth grit together when the fabric is loosened and carefully worked down your thighs, over your knees and tugged away from your ankles. "Just let me help."

Azriel is nothing short of respectful, you notice. He doesn't sneak salacious peeks at the endless expanse of bare skin that he exposes. Doesn't once mention the tremble of your breath or the way your fingers seem to bite into the flesh of his arms whenever a new article of clothing is removed and dropped to the floor. Even after he's eased you into the shower stream; standing before him, perfectly presented on a soaking wet platter—he keeps his eyes trained on your face.

Shadows thicken over sensual bits, providing a shield between you and the male diligently applying soap to rag. Each drag of the slightly rough material against your skin releases a tension you hadn’t noticed you’d been carrying and all you can do is watch as he rids your skin of the thick film left behind when magic was used to clear away muck.

Eons must past before words are spoken, a this time Azriel is more intentional when he chooses them--more intimate when he relays them. "I'd always hoped for a mate. Ever since I was a boy and my mother told me stories about two halves scouring the world to finally become whole again." You're malleable under his care, pliant when he lifts your arms to scrub underneath and damn-near boneless when he turns you with slippery hands to slowly work the knots from your back. "I had always hoped that one day, I too, would find my equal." Azriel clears his throat, returning back from whatever memory he'd been sucked into but the massage doesn't stop; it only drags lower. "Then so much time had passed and I started to wonder if I couldn't find them because I wasn't being forward enough but that only lead to misplaced affections and unfulfillment."

"Azriel, I'm not sure if I really understand--"

"I felt something for you—something stronger than friendship but I pushed it away. I ignored it and looked elsewhere because I can bare not being as close with Mor and it’s as easy as breathing to never see Elain again but losing you—ruining the peace I feel when I’m with you would’ve broken me.”

Tears well in your eyes, a thickness welling in the back of your throat and your skin burns where his fingers touch, lingering near the dip of your back and just barely curling around the curve of your hips. “Az, you don’t have to say any of this to make me feel better. I just wanted you to be happy. I want you to be happy.”

“Then, please don’t reject it.” His warmth ripples over every inch of you, your neck craning to make room for the forehead he helplessly drops in the crux of your shoulder. The perfect line of his nose drags along the curve of it, inhaling the soothing notes of your scent mixed with his body wash. “Don’t reject me—this is all I’ve ever wanted.” Finally his fingers curl around your hips, the grip gentle but oh, so claiming. “Can’t you feel it? This rightness.”

Raw emotion swims in the amber tones of Azriel’s eyes when you turn in his arms; searching within those rich shades to find any detection of a lie.

Not one reaches your radar.

The line of your vision drops, creeping down his nose until it fixates on the plush pink of his lips. Instinct takes over, offering a gentle nudge until the space between two is eaten up and breath becomes shared as a line was about to be crossed—a prophecy fulfilled.

When Azriel’s lips finally brush against yours, it’s like a coil snaps, unleashing an animal he hadn’t known existed. Sure, he had plenty of experience with childish crushes and boyish infatuation. But this, Cauldron, it nearly takes his breath away with its intensity—the burning desire that rips through his veins like a forrest fire.

One kiss bleeds into two hands desperate to acquaint themselves with your body until all that mattered was you, your spymaster and the sentient shadows protectively surrounding you both. “Azriel,” You all but keen in his ear, chest heaving and hips rolling into the hardness of him pressed against you.

“Mate.”

A whimper cuts through your throat, neck craning to make space for the perfect bruises he was sucking into the skin there. “I want you.”

“You have me,” He promises over the frantic beat of your heart, tongue laving over the soft fat of your breasts. “Even when my bones are rotting in the dirt, I’ll belong to you. My mate. Mine.”

[happilyhertale]

Fire and blood - Daemon Targaryen x wife!reader

Author’s note: Before I got into my usual summary, this fic is part of a collab with a bunch of my lovely moots! @lady-phasma came to us with an ask about period sex and Daemon and being as lovely as she is, she offered us all the chance to collab on it. Choosing our own characters and how to play the story.

Please find the masterlist of everyone's fics here.

English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Summary: You haven't been married to your husband Daemon Targaryen for very long - but you've learnt to enjoy your marriage to the Rogue Prince. But unlike normality, you haven't sought out Daemon for a few affectionate visits throughout the day, and that makes him suspicious…

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x wife!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Period smut; fingering (f in v), p in v sex - implied

Word count: 2.2 k

Other stories of mine

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Daemon opens the door, but only darkness reveals itself to him. He raises his eyebrows slightly, but steps into your shared chambers. He is looking for his wife, who has been by his side for several moons now.

During this time, he has already become accustomed to you seeking him out throughout the day, sometimes just to get a little peck and sometimes because you want to tell him something - but today you have not sought him out.

His heavy footsteps sound in your chambers as he walks further inside.

"Are you hiding from me, woman?" he murmurs.

He walks over to a small table with fruit and sweet dishes on it. He takes a bunch of grapes between his fingers before letting them disappear into his mouth.

"Has another moon gone by?" he asks into the room and turns to your bed, where he recognises the outline of a figure under the covers. A slight grin plays around his lips before he walks towards the bed.

But as he gets closer, he picks up an unusual scent.

"What's that smell?" he asks.

And suddenly your voice rings out, "It's oak bark tea... My abdomen is a cramp," you mumble from under the covers.

He's still smiling and comes closer to the bed.

"What have we got here? I wonder what trouble could be brewing under here," he says, reaching lightly for the blanket.

"No... Go away," you say quietly and try to hold the blanket tight.

But Daemon pulls the blanket down further and kneels on the bed with one knee.

"Ah... there you are... what a view," he says sarcastically as the blanket reveals your face. Your hair lies dishevelled on the pillow, your face a little sleepily puffy as your annoyed gaze meets his. "Yes....my beautiful wife," he says and smiles. He pulls the blanket down further and a "Go away," sounds from you again.

He smiles at your words, "Why would I do that when I have such a sight in front of me?" he says, a hint of sarcasm still in his voice again.

You sigh and try to turn away, but you feel Daemon kneel down further on the bed and his hand grips you gently.

"Ah, ah, ah," he says and lies down next to you, his arm wrapped around your middle.

His warm breath brushes the back of your neck as he presses his face into yours, "What's wrong," he whispers.

You sigh again and already feel his large, surprisingly warm hand on your abdomen... a warm touch of your dragon.

"I'm bleeding..." you say almost inaudibly, but Daemon hears your words and smiles slightly. He knows how you feel during your period. You're vulnerable and sleepy. The cramps force you to lie down and only warmth and strange teas from the maesters give you some relief... well, and other things.

But you're his wife and according to him, you should always feel carefree - but he can't refrain from teasing you a little.

"Pardon?" he whispers, smiling slightly, while you sigh lightly again.

"I'm bleeding..." you repeat your words and mumble into your pillow.

"Love..." he whispers again.

You close your eyes and feel this inner tension that tickles your fingertips.

"I'm on my period," you say a little louder into the pillow.

"Love... Sorry, I don't understand," Daemon replies and his lips graze your neck.

His behaviour makes you seethe, why can't he leave you alone?

"Daemon! Seven hells! I'm on my period! I'm in pain and I'm bleeding!", you call out and raise your head slightly.

He chuckles, "It's fine... no need to shout like that..."

You shake your head slightly, wanting to push his arm away, but he has a firm grip on you. His hand slides slowly downwards, his fingers make light, circular movements and you stiffen slightly.

"Daemon, what are you doing," you suddenly whisper.

"I want you to feel good, love... It'll help you relax..." he murmurs into your ear, nibbling lightly.

You gasp and hold his hand back, "Daemon... there's blood... a lot... it's the first day..." you say hesitantly.

He continues to nibble on your earlobe, his fingers sliding along your thigh, not in the least impressed by your words.

"You know there's nothing to be ashamed of. A woman's body is a natural, beautiful thing.... It's beautiful because it's you," he kisses your cheek and lets his nose glide gently along it. His hand strokes along your thigh and you feel a slight throbbing between your thighs alongside the numbing pain in your abdomen.

"Do you want me to take care of you?" he whispers, kissing the soft skin behind your ear.

You bite your lip lightly, but you shake your head slightly.

"Daemon... There really is a lot of blood..." you repeat your words quietly.

He chuckles softly again, another kiss landing on your neck, "Love... a true warrior isn't afraid of a little blood..." he murmurs.

His hand slides further, "Just relax..." he whispers and you try. Slowly, you close your eyes and try to concentrate on his touch as a heavy breath leaves your lips.

Gently, he kisses your neck and shoulder as he holds you close."It's nothing to be ashamed of either. Especially not my wife. It's natural," he whispers in your ear.

His fingers pull your nightgown up, very slowly. His fingers leave a fiery trail on your thigh and you try to ignore the dull ache that runs through your abdomen.

You can't suppress it, your hips begin to move in slight circular motions as his fingers glide through your pubic hair, caressing you. You gasp as you can already feel his arousal from behind as he presses himself lightly against you.

His fingers reach their destination, slowly running along your folds, and you gasp again – your legs spread slightly.

"That's it... I'll take care of you..." he whispers in your ear and you nod slightly.

The sweetest moan escapes your lips as his fingers find your pearl and apply light pressure. Your legs spread wider and a smile graces his lips.

"Daemon..." you gasp.

"I know..." he whispers, nibbling on your earlobe again as his fingers rub gently over your clit.

"Your body is natural and beautiful. Even in all its bloody glory," he whispers and you nod, your breathing quickening.

He kisses you on the cheek again as his fingers tease over your glistening entrance, gently spreading your folds.

You feel the familiar stretch as his fingers slide inside you. But not all the way in, he teases you a little and you exhale heavily, your hips moving towards his fingers, longing for his touch. And then he fulfils your craving – his fingers stretch your walls, trying to find a good angle, pushing deeper. He revels in the slickness that coats his fingers, the evidence of your arousal mingling with the blood that flows.

"Feel how wet you are for me," he whispers teasingly, his smile pressing against the back of your neck.

"Daemon!" you gasp, but also a small moan leaves your lips.

He chuckles briefly, but your concentration is once again fully on his movements as his fingers penetrate deeper.

"Gods..." you gasp and he grins. Slowly, but firmly, his fingers push forward. He can feel your walls clench, longing for release.

"You know I love all the sounds you make, but I love your moans the most. I can feel your walls tighten around my fingers as if your body wants to hold me inside you while I make you tremble..." he whispers in your ear.

You moan again as his thumb grazes your pearl. He continues his expert ministrations, he is determined to make you forget the discomfort, to lose yourself in a wave of pleasure that only he can provide.

His fingers curl inside you, beckoning you as his thumb presses against your clit again.  You press your arse against his hardness and he moans into your neck. As he feels your hips moving towards his fingers, urging for more, he complies, increasing the intensity of his movements. He curls his fingers, angling them to hit that sweet spot within you, knowing exactly how to drive you wild with desire.

"Moan for me…" he commands, his voice laced with dominance, "Let me hear your pleasure, let it echo through these chambers."

And you obey as his fingers thrust deeper. He bites into your neck as his fingers tease your walls. His fingers continue their exploration, delving deeper inside you, seeking out the spots that make you writhe with pleasure. He maintains a steady rhythm, his touch skilled and attentive to your body's responses.

Smacking noises echo in your chambers as his fingers pump in and out faster. His fingers sliding in and out of your wetness with ease. With each thrust of his fingers, he can feel the slickness and warmth of your arousal, heightening his own desire.

He starts to apply more pressure and lets a third finger slide in. He knows what you like and he gives it to you the way you need it. He stretches your walls while they continue to clench around his fingers. Daemon's eyes gleam with a mixture of desire and possessiveness as he feels your response to his touch. He revels in the power he holds over your pleasure, his fingers moving with a practiced precision.

"Oh, my sweet wife," he murmurs, the words laced with a mixture of possessiveness and anticipation. "You are so responsive, so eager for my touch."

His body presses against yours, his hard length grinding against your backside as he continues to pleasure you with his fingers. His lips find your ear, his breath hot against your skin. Your fear of smearing him with your blood is forgotten, you need more.

"Daemon... Daemon," you whimper again and again, your arm reaching back, to the back of his head. Your fingers reach into his silky hair and he grunts. As he continues to drive you towards the peak of pleasure, Daemon's own desire grows, his need for release becoming undeniable. But at this moment, he's focused solely on your pleasure, on taking you to the edge and beyond, on helping you forget your discomfort.

"Yes... my love... Come on, come on my fingers, milk them like you always milk my cock when I fuck that delicious cunt," he growls into your neck.

And that pushes you over the edge. You cry out, your walls tightening around his fingers and Daemon grunts out.

You whimper, your hand gripping his hair tighter as he kisses your neck. Your eyes are closed, your breathing rapid as he pulls his fingers out when your walls stop clenching. A pleasant warmth flows through your abdomen, soothing away the pain more effectively than every maester's tea could.

As you catch your breath, you glance slightly over your shoulder and look at Daemon. He chuckles as he looks at his fingers, they're covered in blood.

"This is a sight I couldn't have imagined at the beginning of the day..", he kisses your neck again, "But I'm going to enjoy it“, he whispers into your ear.

"Daemon, no!" you say with wide eyes.

He just grins as you avert your eyes and blush. You hear the smacking sound as he licks his fingers.

But now you have to laugh as you stare at him again – his eyes are closed and he seems to be enjoying it.

"You're impossible..." you say softly as he still licks his fingers.

"Daemon, stop it!" you say and giggle, but he just grins and pulls you closer to him again.

"Delicious," he murmurs.

He starts stroking and caressing your belly again.

His breathing slows down as he holds you close. The sounds and smell of you, your little body in his embrace, it's almost more than he can bear at this moment.

He gently grabs your chin, as if he were holding something fragile and precious, and gently pulls your head upwards. When you return his gaze, it is gentle and tender.

"And you are my wife. You may feel sick, you may bleed, sometimes I may even be the cause of your anger. But that's all part of your body's natural rhythm. So please, my sweet girl, never hide from the pain, never keep your misery a secret. Otherwise, I promise you, it will cause me more grief than your blood..." he says gently. These moments with him are rare, but you savour them – your lovely husband. You lean towards him and let your lips slide onto his. He growls slightly and you feel his hand on your arse. You giggle slightly and feel his smile on your lips.

But the grip on your arse tightens and he pulls you towards him, positioning you perfectly against his crotch. He still can't hide his excitement and you gasp slightly. Your lips are still dancing around each other, you can feel the coppery taste on his tongue as he starts to undo his trousers. He growls again as his hand spreads your cheeks slightly and presses his hardness between your thighs from behind. You whimper as his cock slides along your folds.

"Let's see if we can give you a little more relief, shall we?" he growls against your lips and you moan as the tip of his cock presses against your slick entrance.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

[xoluvx]

hi love ur fics I have a brain worm abt Billie surprising r with a new strap that squirts n she doesn’t tell r until r is abt to cum and she starts saying shit like “gonna breed you so good baby” idk I think I’m just h word for Billie’s strap it’s honestly a curse

thank you baby. oh god this is juicy *literally* i hope i did your request justice bb enjoy!🩵 a/n: this was written before i was sick just felt the need to say that <3

“don’t stop,” you moaned tossing your head back feeling her bury herself so deep in your pussy. you were seeing stars. you fisted the sheets trying to find some release that didn’t require you coming yet. you wanted to savor the moment, to hold on to the small glimmer of delight.

billie grabbed your hips breathing heavy. she pounded into you watching your breasts bounce so deliciously. your mouth forming a perfect ‘o’. she bit her bottom lip so hard she thought she might bleed.

“i’m-“ you huffed out of breath chest rising from the mattress as she brought you down on her cock. skin slapping and sweaty.

“i’m gonna-“ you tried again voice raspy. “-cum.”

fuck, you were quite literally on fire. flames consuming your flesh. your chest felt tight from hardly breathing and your toes were curling only adding to the sensation of needing to release.

“fuck,” billie spit licking her lips furrowing her brows in concentration.

“gonna breed you so good,” she snarled and you couldn’t quite gather what she was saying too strung out and focused on your orgasm.

“gonna fill with you my cum,” she’s breathed on your neck coming down flushed on your body holding your thighs pounding into you long and hard. the words made your mouth water and your arms wrap tightly around her shoulders. you’d never heard her talk this way. lies. she’d joke about putting a baby in but it was all teasing and laughter.

right now, she wasn’t laughing. she was slamming into you. she was biting your shoulder. she was huffing and breathing heavy and when she instructed you to cum, you unraveled on her cock and squirmed and squealed in pleasure when you felt a warm rush pumping through your walls. it was wet and filled you tenfold. pulsing on your throbbing pussy.

billie found your face smiling deviously as you lips parted and your brows raised in bliss.

when she pulled out slowly, you winced. she didn’t give you a chance to ask questions. she just lifted your leg watching your fucked out pussy throbbing and dripping. at eye level her thumb ran between your folds slipping and sliding pushing it all back in your pussy as you winced and gripped her hair.

she was enamored.

[lovebugism]

❛ if you die, i'll kill you. ❜“i cant live without you” “don’t die on me, we haven’t even gotten to the good part yet” “i lied i never hated you”

eddie x reader enemies to lovers 🥹🥹

pls enjoy this absolute heartache of a fic :D — you and eddie hate each other until he almost dies (angst, enemies to lovers, cw for mentions of gore, 1.1k)

“Wanna make out?” Eddie had asked you, some hours ago now, when you first arrived at the Upside Down version of Skull Rock. You’d just narrowly survived a gang of demobats, and the stale air smelled distinctly of copper pennies. He managed a smug smile anyway. “I mean, we might as well. Looks like we’re gonna die out here, anyway.”

You scoffed and rolled your tired eyes. The annoyance you felt for him then momentarily distracted you from the fear swirling in the pit of your stomach. “I’d rather,” you’d quipped.

You feel a little like you’ve prophesized something now.

Eddie bleeds out in your arms with a hundred little bites on his stomach that were supposed to be yours. He’d distracted the circling demobats when you twisted your ankle, too hurt to run away. And now he’s dying. And it’s all your goddamn fault.

You sit with him while Dustin rushes into the Creel House, in search of help from the older crew. You watch him attentively over your shoulder until he disappears behind the rotted front door. When you turn back to Eddie, you find his eyes have fluttered shut.

“Eddie—” you call for him, clearing your throat when it comes out garbled. “Eddie! Hey!”

“Hm…” he hums tiredly in response, eyes still shut.

You sigh with the subtle relief that he’s not dead. The breath catches in your chest. You try to fight away the panic attack clawing behind your ribcage, even though it makes everything around you seem more and more distant. You try to stay as present as you can despite the horrors swimming all around you — for Eddie The Freak Munson.

“You have to stay awake,” you tell him, voice thick with emotion. “Open your eyes.”

“I’m just… I feel a little tired right now,” he mumbles, slurring slightly. 

Your chest wrenches. He’s getting paler and paler by the minute. The tourniquet you made from the bottom half of your shirt is now soaked with deep red blood. Panic burns a wildfire in your chest because you’ve done everything you could think to do. 

You can’t lose him. That’s all you’re telling yourself now. You can’t lose him, you can’t lose him, you can’t lose him.

“I don’t care. Keep your eyes open, alright?”  Your heart wrenches again, with something short of hope this time, when Eddie’s eyes flutter open. They’re glassy and dilated, but the deep chocolate of them hasn’t changed. You muster a small smile. “There you go, Eds. There you go— Now, just keep talking to me, okay? Keep talking.”

“I’m tired,” he mutters under his breath, too weak to do anything more.

Your face screws together as you choke back a sob. You swallow down every instinct to cry. You’ll cry when this is over, you tell yourself, when Eddie’s safe and back in Hawkins.

“I know, Eddie. I know,” you babble through stinging tears. “But you gotta— you gotta keep talking, alright? It’ll help you stay awake. And I need you to… I need you to stay awake for me, okay?”

He nods. At least, you think he’s nodding, because the movement is terribly faint. 

His eyes fall shut again. You feel the loss of his melted chocolate gaze like a stab in the chest. Your hand grips his jaw, a little less than gentle.

“Eddie,” you bite through gritted teeth.

“Mm…”

“If you die, I swear to god, I will fucking kill you.”

The familiarity of your aggression reminds him of home. He opens his eyes and cracks a small, barely-there smile. Blood glistens on his mouth. “I thought you hated me?” he slurs in an inaudible mumble.

“I do,” you tell him without thinking twice, laughing through the sob in your throat. “But I’ll love the shit outta you if we make it out of here together.”

Together, you say, because either both of you make it out or neither of you do. 

His grin widens softly, chapped and lopsided. “Metal,” he murmurs.

A whimper sounds in your throat when his eyes flutter shut again. “Eddie…”

“‘M sorry, sweetheart,” he whispers, breathing sharply through his nose. 

It’s getting harder and harder for him to breathe. You can tell by the harsh rise and fall of his chest. There’s little oxygen getting to his brain, accompanied by the weeping bites on his stomach— where the fuck is Dustin Henderson?

“I don’t know if I…. If I’m gonna make it outta here, babe…”

Your chest tightens. He only ever called you babe to piss you off. You wonder if he’s still being the annoying asshole you knew back home or if the term of endearment is too engrained in his head.

“Don’t say that.”

“If I don’t—”

“Eddie.”

“If I don’t make it out,” he repeats, sterner this time. He drags a sharp breath in and opens his eyes, just barely. “I want you to know that I never… I never hated you… ‘M just a liar… And a total fucking coward…”

“You can make it up to me when we get back home, okay? You just gotta stay awake.”

His lip quirks into a faint, crooked smile. “I’ve been dyin’ to kiss you since ninth grade… Did you know that?”

“I know,” you nod with an emotional laugh.

“I did make it kinda obvious, didn’t I?”

“You can kiss me when you get better. I swear.”

Eddie nods. You feel him grow heavier and heavier in your arms. His smug smile starts to fade, and you panic. “Eddie? Eddie, don’t— don’t die on me, okay? Please. We haven’t— We haven’t gotten to the good part yet, asshole. You have to stay awake.”

You shift him in your arms, trying to sit him up more when he slumps. He does little to fight you. He doesn’t have the strength to anymore.

“‘M sorry, babe,” you hear him whisper.

“No— No, don’t— Don’t fucking say that,” you scold bitterly, less angry at him and more at the rest of the world. It should’ve been you lying here, after all, not him. You’d trade places in a heartbeat if you could. “You can’t die, you asshole! How am I supposed to— fucking— keep going without you annoying the living shit outta me?”

“Henderson’ll annoy you for the both of us,” he manages to joke as life spills from the weeping wounds on his stomach.

“Fuck that. It’s not the same— I need you, Eddie. I need you, okay? I can’t— I can’t fucking live without you,” you cry over his pale, bloodied body.

You hear yelling and a set of rushed footsteps. “Eddie!” Dustin calls as he dashes down the decrepit porch steps of the old home — with Steve, Nancy, and Robin following close behind.

The sight of them makes you sigh. Your chest starts to sparkle with a hope you’d thought you lost — damn near aching when Eddie’s glassy eyes flutter open once more. 

The fucker grins weakly up at you. “I knew you had a crush on me, babe.”

[mischiefmanagers]

Azriel Fic Rec Library 🦇💙

In no particular order, here's an extensive list of Azriel x Reader or Azriel x OC fics that I've compiled for those who can't get enough of him. I literally maxed out the number of tags/links you can include on a post for this 😂

🌼 personal favorite 🥀 angst 💞 fluff 🔥 smut

by @acourtofmenandthirst

You Called 🥀💞

by @moonlightazriel

Before you 🔥🥀

The truth about you 🥀💞🔥

The family we choose 💞

by @thelov3lybookworm

I Didn't Ask For This 🌼🥀

Finally Safe 🌼🥀

My brother. 💞

by @writingsbychlo

SWEET LIKE SUGAR 🌼💞🥀

false confessions 🌼🥀

how we survive 🥀

by @readychilledwine

Slow Hands 🌼💞🔥

Bound by Fate 🌼🥀💞🔥

Little Bat, Big Dreams 💞

Beauty in Pain 🥀

Devotion 💞

by @leafsandstarlight

Forced Revelations

by @lalacliffthorne

the basic rules of friendship 💞🔥

motorcycle 💞

by @bubbles-for-all-of-us

Hear the lonely cry out 🥀

Can you love me most? 🥀

Baby daddy 💞

by @draemgal

master of disguise 💞

by @azsazz

Nightlight 🥀

Wrong Side of the Right Coin Azriel x Reader x Eris 🥀

Just Hold On 🥀💞

What Lies Ahead

Bleed for Me

by @xoxonyxx

What Should've Been 💞

by @illyrian-dreamer

Spin the bottle 💞🥀

Our girl Azriel x Cassian x Reader 🥀

by @acourtofwhatthefuck

Practice On Me 💞🔥

by @danikamariewrites

Sixth Sense 💞

Shell 💞

Fever Dreams 🥀💞

Please Don't Go 🥀💞

Pointless Fights 🥀

Perfect Princess 💞

by @lidiasloca

more than this 🥀

by @tadpolesonalgae

please... 🌼🥀

washing his wings 💞

Can't Bring Myself To Hate You 🌼🥀🔥

His Personal Assistant

by @mother-above

The Golden Warrior 🌼

by @aquanova99

The Shadow and the Seraphim

by @fieldofdaisiies

Oh Those Romance Novels 🔥

Love's A Burden 🥀

by @ellievickstar

Between Two worlds

by @florence-end

Worst kept secret 💞

Stitch up

by @redheadspark

Reunited 💞🥀

Hold 🥀💞

by @acourtofmarvels

Miracle 🥀

by @bookish-whore

Haunted 🥀

by @honeybeefae

7 Minutes In Heaven 🔥🔥

Shadows of Fire Azriel x Reader x Eris 🔥🔥

by @reverie-verse

Ooops Mating Bond 🌼💞

by @cassiefromhell

Unexpected Azriel x Reader x Eris 💞🥀

by @ladylokilaufeyson5

A Little Helping Hand 🌼💞

I Will Always Find You 💞🥀

by @azrielhours

Soft Spot 🌼🔥💞

I want you to rest 💞🥀

Kiss Thief 💞

Soul Song 💞

Restless Dreams 🥀

Stolen Away 💞

Waiting for You 💞🥀

by @liahaslosthermind

Swarming children and elbows to the face 💞

by @itsphoenix0724

Tickle My Strings 🔥

by @jeannineee

Apology 💞

Umbra et Ventus

Blue and Red Azriel x Cassian x Reader

Stubble 💞

Illyrian Babies Azriel x Cassian x Reader 💞

Closure 🥀🔥

by @violette-hue

Fated 🔥

by @angelshadowsinger

Supposed to Be Together 🥀🔥

Prized Possession 🥀💞

by @callmeblaire

little friends 💞

by @fairydustblossom

tied to you 🥀💞

losing control🥀💞

pre relationship fluff 💞

by @throneofsapphics

up all night Azriel x Reader x Cassian 💞

by @arrantsnowdrop

Starlight 💞

Wrongly Accused 🥀🔥💞

by @clairebear08

Hide and Seek 💞

Betrayal 🥀

by @starlightandsouls

My Angel 💞

Yours To Keep And Cherish 💞

Bookshop Brawls 💞

by @azrielscrown

the secret of seduction 💞🔥

wake me up. 💞

by @glittergelpensblog

Shadow and Song

In the Dark

by @azriels-shadowsinger

brother's best friend 💞

by @xreaderbooks

Two sides 🥀

by @vacant--body

stay with me 🥀🔥

by @whisperingmidnights

We Shall Become Monsters 🌼

by @wishfulwithwine

You Belong With Me 🥀

by @queen--of--shadows

Healing Shadows 🌼

by @ochiolism

winter's frost

[mx-myth]

(Tags by @difeisheng)

Actually no! I WISH I was anything related to marine biology/research because I would love to write an intricately detailed fic but instead I'm reading Wikipedia articles and hunting down data-deficient seahorses.

Having a VIVID idea of liansanjiao as a team of underwater scientists. Dfs is a diver/underwater photographer. Fdb is a researcher aka the one paper-pusher out of the three of them (he writes all the papers). Llh is also a diver and oversees the upkeep of their underwater research facility (he's the one who roped the other two into this) as well as a certified doctor (specifically for marine research-related illnesses, like decompression sickness). They're researching seahorses (because I said so).

[blackdahliaxoxo]

If I make a Lou x reader smut fic (Lou from Love Lies Bleeding movie) will anyone read it? lol

Pls lmk, I’m new to tumblr and writing in general and I see there’s like hardly any fics/blurbs of her and I need it 😩

MDNI/minors and men DNI

[atinyreads]

ATEEZ Fic Recommendations

@atinyreads

i may or may not be intending to use this post as a bookmark and masterlist for all of my favorite recent reads :3. ANYWAY… sharing is caring, i NEED all of these masterpieces to get all the love in this world (how can they NOT).

> special thanks to @cafekitsune for the lovely divider 🤍

Hongjoong

The villain by @yourfatherlucifer

sin for me (HJ & SH) by @yourfatherlucifer

be the light (HJ & SH) by @written-in-flowers

devil hongjoong prompt by @bvidzsoo

he’s kinda hot by @ohmyamor

corruption by @ja3hwa

weakness by @yeoblurbs

pride and prejudice by @edenesth

high end by @songmingisthighs

storms by @kpop-fanatic-lover16

Seonghwa

racer seonghwa by @k-hotchoisan

as it was by @starrysvn

ace of spades by @smileydk

and his name was death by @stayteezdreams

expectations by @spinster-sisters

submit by @kpop-fanatic-lover16

crimson white snow by @haosweater

Yunho

fell in love with a pirate by @mi-rae07

my bleeding heart by @honeyhwaaa

irrevocable love by @bvidzsoo

love is a sacrifice by @kpop-fanatic-lover16

Yeosang

prince of hearts by @mi-rae07

song for the dead by @i-luvsang

San

Jigsaw by @horanghaejamjam

not my type by @mother-atiny

sweetest lies by @atxxzist

house of cards by @justwritedreams

city lights by @shinestarhwaa

husband san by @thisthatpinkvenom

absence makes the heartbreak by @bro-atz

moll by @last-words-ofashootingstar

trains and cigarettes by @kpop-fanatic-lover16

Mingi

20 minutes by @yeosbbm

revenge by @mcsalterego

cornflower blue by @last-words-ofashootingstar

ledge by @brrrkdslek

Masquerade by @kpop-fanatic-lover16

Wooyoung

I like red by @starillusion13

wooyoung prompt by @ja3hwa

you smell divine (SH & WY) by @yourfatherlucifer

his by @starrywooyo

elixir of death by @darkphoenix07

since way back by @yeosbbm

dont go to bed angry by @yeosbbm

Jongho

by your side by @miniteezez

OT8

Lost you forever by @starillusion13

outlaw by @staytinyville

shock and awe by @yeeehwa

[nym-wibbly]

Love Lies Bleeding by Nym #6

Today, she chooses a memory, scrolling through his recollections until she finds one in which Dean is prominent. The rest of the human world fades to a grey background around Dean Winchester's shape and soul.

"This," Naomi says slowly, as though she can't decide which question to ask or cannot fathom the emotion she unravels from the frozen moment. She frowns.

Castiel takes advantage of the slight hesitation to stretch out his fingers and drag them back inward. He curls his fingertips against the cold metal, rooting himself in the moment while his faults play out on the white walls.

Dean, animated in a moment of laughing camaraderie—a bright explosion of human warmth against which Castiel's spirit flutters like a tattered moth.

"Tell me about this," Naomi requests, too curious. Too aware of her own ignorance and the dignity of her position. "This emotion?"

Castiel tries to shake his head, but he's pinned, strap firm across his forehead and a crown of stubby needles driven into his brain.

"You had to be there." Outside a brothel, in a dark alleyway stinking of urine and refuse, his very being lit up with pure delight at another's easy laughter. Naomi couldn't possibly understand friendship or companionship. Castiel pities her while she punishes him for knowing about both.

[sadnymi]

angsty / fluff fic ab mattheo like going on about how nobodys gonna love him n shi to y/n, n she says like but i love u, and hes like u js playing then she kisses him and wow yay happy ending

「 ✦ Apocalypse. ✦ 」

Mattheo riddle x reader

Summary: ( request)

Warnings: angst, fluff

Words : 2k

I saw it in his eyes, the darkness creeping in as he struggled to maintain control. The fight had escalated into pure hatred, with both Theo and Enzo unable to pry the boy from Mattheo's grip. The damage was evident; the boy was bleeding, a clear indication of Mattheo's brutal impact on his face.

His gaze met mine briefly, pushing the blood away from his features as he swiftly made his way out of the school grounds. I glanced at the unconscious boy, then back at Mattheo disappearing into the distance.

Ignoring Pandora's warnings and calls to give him space, I bolted through the oak doors of Hogwarts. The downpour that had been threatening all afternoon had finally unleashed its fury, the wind whipping the rain into a stinging wall. My hair plastered itself to my face, and my robes clung to me like a second skin, already heavy with the deluge.

Mattheo was already a dark blur disappearing into the Forbidden Forest. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, a war between reason and a deep, primal need to be with him. Reason screamed at me to turn back, to let him cool down, to respect the boundaries he was so forcefully setting. But the thought of him alone, consumed by whatever darkness had gripped him, was a terrifying prospect.

With a deep breath, I plunged into the forest. Thick branches clawed at my robes, and gnarled roots snagged my feet.

"Mattheo!" I called out, my voice swallowed by the din of the storm. Each step forward felt like an eternity.

"Mattheo, please stop," I shouted, desperation tainting my voice. He didn't glance back, didn't acknowledge my presence.

"Mattheo," I called again, and in that moment, everything escalated. Rain began pouring heavily, adding to the chaotic atmosphere.

"Riddle, I swear to—"

"Go back to the fucking school, Y/N," his voice sliced through the rain, sharp and commanding, leaving no room for negotiation.

"Mattheo—" I tried to protest, to reason with him.

"I said go back!" he screamed, his anger palpable as he turned to face me.

I stood there, speechless, meeting his gaze with wide eyes, refusing to blink even as the rain blurred my vision.

"No," I whispered defiantly, shaking my head and attempting to step closer to him. But he instinctively took a step back.

"Are you stupid or something? I said leave me the fuck alone! What part of that don't you fucking understand?" His voice echoed in the rain, filled with frustration and anguish.

"Don't shut me out, Mattheo," my voice trembling with emotion. "You don't mean that, and I'm not going anywhere." Tears streamed down my face, mingling with the rain as I desperately tried to convey my feelings.

A string of curses erupted from Mattheo's lips as he took forceful strides towards me. "Don't cry," he rasped, his eyes squeezed shut in a struggle with whatever inner demons gnawed at him.

I sniffled, wiping at my face with a damp sleeve. "It's not tears," I lied, my voice thick with emotion. "Just the rain."

He stared at me for a long moment, his dark eyes searching mine"Fine, whatever. Just get back to the castle." He pivoted, his cloak billowing in the wind as he prepared to walk away again.

My mind raced. I had to stop him. As I moved towards him, an idea – a desperate and slightly reckless one – sparked in my head. With a feigned gasp, I stumbled, collapsing onto the rain-slicked ground.

Mattheo reacted instantly, spinning on his heel and rushing back to my side. A flicker of genuine concern crossed his face as he crouched beside me. "Hey, hey, look at me , what happened?" he demanded, his voice sharp with worry. His hand gently brushed the wet hair from my face, a touch surprisingly tender.

"Ankle," I whimpered, milking the act. "I think I twisted it."

He didn't seem entirely convinced. But the worry in his eyes was unmistakable. He offered his hand, and I hesitantly took it, wrapping my fingers around his forearm. "I think I can walk," I muttered, testing the waters.

Instead of letting me stand, he scooped me up in his arms with surprising ease. It startled me, but there was no time to dwell on it. wrapping my arms around his neck not tearing my eyes off his face.The rain hammered down relentlessly. He navigated the downpour until we reached the shelter of a large oak tree, its broad leaves offering a meager shield from the deluge.

Settling us down I clung to him, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs."I know you're lying," he said softly, his voice devoid of anger. My breath caught in my throat, his words cutting through my facade.

The shock momentarily stole my breath, but I held his gaze."Then why did you carry me?" I whispered, barely audible.

"Because the possibility of it being true terrifies me," he confessed, catching me off guard.

A surge of warmth spread through me despite the chill of the rain. "If you weren't pushing me away, I wouldn't have to lie," I said, my voice gaining strength.

"And maybe if you were smart, you'd have listened and left when I told you to."

Ignoring his words, I reached out, cupping his cheek with my hand. My thumb brushed away a stray raindrop that clung to his lash. "Don't let whatever that boy said get to you, Matt." I said softly. "You know he's wrong."

His eyes held mine, a storm swirling within their depths. "No, he wasn't wrong," he choked out,. Before I could offer a counterpoint, he surged forward, his voice rising with each frantic word.

"It's the curse of the name I carry," he spat, desperation lacing his tone. "No matter what I do, history will repeat itself, They'll pretend to care, to love me, if it's just out of fear. It's a gilded cage, this life , It's a curse of being the heir. We think we own everything, that we can have everything we desire. But then..." He trailed off, his voice cracking, his eyes flitting to the rain-slicked ground.

A heavy silence descended, broken only by the rhythmic patter of raindrops. I yearned to reach out, to comfort him, but I won’t dare to stop him not after he finally opened up to me , sensed the raw vulnerability pulsating around him like a volatile aura. Finally, with a shuddering breath, he continued, his voice barely a whisper.

"Then the darkness creeps in, whispers promises of power in exchange for a sliver of your soul. It's a seductive song, promising control, promising to silence the doubts, the fears. And before you know it, you're drowning in it, the darkness coiling around you, suffocating the light."

A surge of protectiveness washed over me. I reached out, my fingers brushing against his cheek. The contact seemed to ground him, the storm in his eyes calming just a fraction.

He slumped back against the rough bark of the tree, a defeated sigh escaping his lips. Rain trickled down his face, My heart ached for him, for the pain he carried like a heavy cloak.

"Mattheo," I said softly, gently brush a wet strand of hair away from his forehead. "That's not true."

He scoffed, a harsh, humorless sound. "Easy for you to say.You don't live under the shadow of a name that breeds fear."

"Maybe not," I conceded, "but that doesn't mean the people who care about you don't see you for who you truly are."

He met my gaze, a flicker of doubt warring with the cynicism in his eyes. "Do they?" he challenged with a smile his voice barely a whisper.

"You're kind," I said, my voice firm despite the turmoil within. "You're loyal, protective, and funny when you try to be." A small smile tugged at the corners of my lips. "And deep down, Mattheo, you have a good heart."

He stared at me for a long moment, searching my eyes for any hint of deception. Then, a spark of something, perhaps defiance or maybe a sliver of hope, flickered within their depths.

"But what if that's not enough? What if love is just another game—“

Before he could say another word , I leaned forward and cupped his face in my hands. My thumb stroked his cheek, a silent plea for him to listen. Our eyes locked, a silent conversation unfolding between us.

I whispered, my voice husky with emotion. " for what it's worth, Mattheo Riddle, I don't play games, I love you "

Then, with a boldness that surprised even myself, I closed the distance between us. My lips met his .My kiss was soft, hesitant at first, a question mark pressed against his lips. Then, a spark ignited, a fire that burned away his doubt, his fear. He responded with a fervor that mirrored the intensity of the storm raging around us, his arms pulling me closer until we were one tangled mess under the shelter of the oak tree.

When I pulled away, his eyes were wide, a mixture of shock and something else I couldn't quite decipher flickering within them.

He pulled me close, his thumb brushing away another stray tear that had escaped my notice. "You say you love me," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper.

"I do," I confirmed, leaning into his touch. "More than anything ."

A ghost of a smile played on his lips, a hesitant bloom against the pale canvas of his face. Then, with a shaky breath, the words I longed to hear spilled from his lips.

burying his face in my neck leaving a soft kiss before whispering in my ear “ I…love you too Y/N”

In that close embrace, the rain seemed to lose its roar, replaced by the frantic drumming of my heart against Mattheo's chest. His words echoed in my mind, a melody sweeter than any song.

"You... love me too?" I breathed, needing to hear it again.

He chuckled softly, a sound that sent shivers down my spine. "Like crazy in love with you "

A choked sob escaped my lips, and he tightened his hold around me.

"Don't cry," he said, his thumb gently brushing away the tear that escaped down my cheek. "This is a good thing, isn't it?"

I nodded, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. It was more than good.

he closed the gap between us. Unlike the tentative kiss before, this one was filled with a raw, desperate urgency. He poured his emotions into it.

When we finally pulled apart, breathless and shaky, his forehead rested against mine. He stared at me for a beat, his chest rising and falling rapidly before a genuine, unguarded smile bloomed across his face.

"So, " he drawled, a teasing glint in his gaze, "about that ankle of yours?"

My cheeks burned with a blush that had nothing to do with the rain. "Oh, it's miraculously healed," I mumbled, looking away playfully. "Must be the magical properties of this particular oak tree."

He laughed , a sound so rich and warm that it chased away the remaining chill from the downpour.

"Right," he said, a playful edge to his voice, "and I suppose the boy I pushed magically turned into a harmless bundle of sunshine too?"

I couldn't help but grin at his teasing. "Perhaps," I kissed his cheek . "Maybe the rain washed away his bruises ."

He feigned offense, clutching his chest dramatically. "Everyone knows the only thing rain washes away is a good hairstyle , Also about that…maybe I owe Theo and Enzo a massive apology, and maybe that boy a new nose."

“ I would have said a new face “

“Merlin knows what McGonagall will say if she finds out. Detention for a lifetime, that's my guess."

A giggle escaped my lips as we settled back a playful glint back in his eyes, "does this mean I have to carry you back to the castle... or can you miraculously walk again?"

I swatted him playfully on the arm, a smile tugging at my lips. "Flattery won't get you anywhere, Riddle," I teased, a light laugh escaping my lips.

"Actually," he countered, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "it already has."

He dipped his head, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to mine. The rain continued its rhythmic drumming on the oak leaves above, creating a secluded world for the two of us.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

[within-ur-intro-verse]

Favorite Complete Canon Setting Joongdok Fics

One-shots

oh, how you've made me a fool by aevum; 1,602 words, Rated: Gen; YJH realizes during an encounter with Asmodeus that KDJ is pretty and has a crisis.

how the mighty fall (in love) by Anonymous; 6,335 words, Rated: Teen; In which YJH confuses sexual tension with anger issues when it comes to KDJ.

Some things are meant to be by Anonymous; 13,432 words, Rated: Teen; Yoo Joonghyuk remembers round zero and assumes his sponsor has taken another incarnation, namely Kim Dokja, behind his back. Yoo Joonghyuk is not bitter about it (he is).

[sub-scenario — hellsent guardian angel] by Anonymous; 6,203 words, Rated: Teen; ABO AU - KDJ’s irregular heat strikes during the apocalypse. Without a companion to help him, KDJ channels it out through indiscriminate carnage.

"I am not a model," Kim Dokja lied. by aynchent; 6,615 words, Rated: Teen; KDJ gets roped into modeling for a beauty competition scenario.

have you no idea that you're in deep by blerghie; 3,111 words, Rated: Teen; YJH unknowingly meets the Goddess of Love & Beauty who has taken the form of KDJ.

A Bleeding Heart Is A Beating Heart by brannrice; 6,241 words, Rated: Mature; KDJ is in every one of YJH's regression rounds, from the 3rd to the last.

a tilt of the axis mundi by lady_peony; 1,245 words, Rated: Teen; YJH takes the Absolute Throne with KDJ as his consort.

'Be my Queen' by Mosspool13; 1,953 words, Rated: Teen; YJH becomes KDJ's Queen during the Absolute Throne arc.

Why do you keep talking about my looks?! by NurikoEsuki; 6,393 words, Rated: Teen; YJH can read KDJ's mind when he thinks about his looks.

because companions kiss a lot by oronine; 4,408 words, Rated: Teen; Uriel matchmakes Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk with a scenario. It works.

self-rationalisation by oronine; 5,843 words, Rated: Teen; YJH meets KDJ in the body of a child and realizes a few things about their past.

Silver Poplars by ritterlich; 6,955 words, Rated: Teen; Post-canon - KDJ returns from being constellation-ed without his memories except his name and YJH finds him three years later.

A Thorny Embrace by Sabby___writ12; 12,741 words, Unrated; A mandatory scenario leads to Yoo Joonghyuk travelling through Kim Dokja's worst memories and seeing who his Life and Death companion truly is.

Kim Dokja Can Sing?! by SkylerSkyhigh; 5,948 words, Rated: Gen; KimCom has accidentally triggered a hidden scenario with a harsh penalty. Can they survive the scenario without losing their voice?

Hands of God by spoonks; 4,524 words, Rated: Gen; KDJ's old apartment survives the apocalypse. KimCom goes and finds a binder of KDJ's drawings.

On the Tip of My Tongue by spoonks; 4,808 words, Rated: Gen; KDJ was born an empath where he can taste emotions. It makes eating difficult.

can wait for you at the bottom by trainerlyra; 10,490 words, Rated: Teen;  KDJ goes off on his own again, and when he comes back, he's noticeably different. YJH isn't sure how to deal with this.

sponsor and incarnation by Umbalt; 4,147 words, Rated: Gen; Post-canon - The epilogue finally begins in earnest, and YJH gets to ask KDJ his final question.

through the looking-glass by unluckyolive; 10,300 words, Rated: Teen; The Fourth Wall comes down. Kim Dokja realizes he’s been relying on it more than he thought.

bet i made you look by venividivici; 3,303 words, Rated: Teen; Where KDJ was a supermodel before the apocalypse.

you got me starstruck by virotutis; 3,680 words, Rated: Teen; Idol KDJ whose songs were about YJH's regression turns.

skills aren’t everything (well they are to me) by wonrkive; 4,117 words, Rated: Teen; What happens when you’re so emotionally repressed? The universe has to step in and play therapist for you.

the volatile truth of white lies by zxrysky; 5,438 words, Rated: Mature; Role Reversal AU - where YJH incarnates in the world of TWSA/ORV as a reader of the ORV novel.

Multi-chapter/Series

Voiceless Emotions Echoing in the Night by Akeara4; Multi-chapter (9,787 words), Rated: Explicit; KDJ & YJH get trapped in the Dark Fault for 300 days. When their relationship starts progressing, they avoid talking about it. It keeps progressing anyway.

and loathed is he who curses the warmth of the sky, whilst he should be so cruelly shackled with ice by Anonymous; Multi-chapter (10,788 words), Rated: Explicit; YJH is able to drag KDJ through regressions with him.

tell-tale heart beats and beats by Anonymous; Multi-chapter (24,777 words), Rated: Teen; a scenario takes KimCom into KDJ's first meeting with one of its members (spoilers: it's YJH).

You make me wanna live forever by Anonymous; Multi-chapter (143,024 words), Rated: Teen; Role Reversal AU - Regressor KDJ and Reader/Fan YJH.

Brilliant Tapestry by A_simple_Cookie, Moreta; Series - Story 1 (Discontinued - 70,180 words; Rated: Mature) & Story 2 (Complete - 6,050 words; Rated: Teen); Joongdok were boyfriends before the apocalypse.

Derealization by Frill; Multi-chapter (121,356 words), Rated: Teen; KDJ is a spy that find himself isekai'd into the TWSA-verse as the scenarios began.

[Message from the Universe: Kim Dokja Must Die] by jarofclay; Multi-chapter (27,291 words), Rated: Explicit; A tragicomedic Final Destination-esque story featuring one dreamer in distress, his personal hero and his rightfully anxious family.

can't keep my hands to myself by LethalBookshelves; Series - Story 1 (Complete, Rated: G - 3,165 words), Story 2 (Complete, Rated: G - 4,261 words), Story 3 (Complete, Rated: T - 5,071 words); YJH can't figure out why KDJ is called ugly.

The cost of life by Mayura_Slay, Moreta, Watching_fromabove; Multi-chapter (Discontinued - 63,770 words), Rated: Teen; KDJ and YSA starts out the apocalypse ate Minosoft. The events take place during the 999th Regression.

Is this normal? by Moreta; Multi-chapter (9,332 words), Rated: Teen; 1863!YJH transports into reality and walks into Minosoft covered in blood.

Now you know by Moreta; Multi-chapter (5,946 words), Rated: Teen; What if YJH actually used the Affection Reader when fate got placed on KDJ?

devil's manner by oronine; Multi-chapter (5,274 words), Rated: Teen; Yandere!KDJ - if Kim Dokja grew up a little different.

Repose by Waltzfor-Zizi (azro_zee); 6,783 words, Rated: Teen; Post-canon - In which KDJ feared the silence, and YJH was reminded that the lull could be a little scary.

Meetings by WindsOfTime; Series, Rated: Teen, Story 1 (39,658 words) and Story 2 (67,592 words); What canon could have been if Midday Tryst had been used more often.

Tangible Things by wyrvel; Series - Story 1 (Complete, Rated: G - 2,967 words), Story 2 (Complete, Rated: E - 3,870 words), Story 3 (Complete, Rated E - 7,710 words); Joonghyuk relationship during the apocalypse.

seldom the ghost returns by yamscooper; Multi-chapter (31,619 words), Rated: Teen; Post-canon - KDJ is hallucinating seeing OD everywhere.

[revelboo]

I'm in love with the way you portray Jazz, and there just so little writing for him.

I was wondering if I could request another part for Jazz or IDW Starscream 🙏 your fics are giving me life. I check Tumblr every day hoping for more!

Over It Now Pt 10

IDW Jazz x Reader

• It’s such a little thing, nothing really, but when you start reaching out to him, it’s like a weight lifted from his shoulders. Asking him how his day was. How it really was, not letting him just smile and play it off. Encouraging him to be real even if it leaves him vulnerable and it means so much to him, even as he can’t let go of that mask just yet. There’s still the fear that if he does, you won’t like what’s underneath. Maybe if you see all the frustration and anger just under the surface, you’ll finally refuse to sit with him altogether. So he keeps the smile in place, keeps joking, but at night before you disappear inside to sleep, he sings for you in Cybertronian everything he wants to say, but is too afraid to. He bleeds out the poison night by night, needing the warmth of you against him so he doesn’t drown in it, because there’s so much.

• “You’re quiet today,” you say, studying the big Autobot. And that unusually somber expression is gone in a twist of a sly smile. Playing that part again, but it doesn’t bother you as much as it once did. After that night, you almost feel like you understand that his smile is sometimes all that’s holding him together, because when he sings? Even though you can’t understand a word of it, there’s anguish and hope and fury all twisted together in that haunting voice. It cuts you straight to the bone, hurts you, but you just curl against him and let him sing. Because as much as it hurts you, to keep all that inside must be slowly killing him.

• “Just thinking, doll,” he says, a shoulder lifting in a shrug. Not entirely a lie, though worrying might be a better word. They’d found a viable energon mine, but so had the Decepticons. The same mine. Bumblebee had reported seeing Ravage skulking about. It’s not like he hadn’t known the war would eventually boil over again, but both sides are so starved for energon, he’d thought this uneasy truce might last just a bit longer while they replenished their stores. And worst of all, that mine is far too close to your home, to the nearby city. He’s already started setting up a space for you in his quarters, knowing you’re going to hate him for it, but if fighting breaks out? He can’t leave you here. He can’t lose you. “Didn’t mean to worry you.”

• Watching him drum a servo nervously against his thigh, you know he’s lying, but you make yourself let it go. He’d promised to not lie about the big stuff and while he lies as easily as you breathe, you’d believed his serious tone that night. The same night he’d first sang and then pulled you into his arms while you cried for him. Just thinking about makes you feel unsettled, like there’s something hanging right between you both, just out of reach. Something that if you try to take it, will shift everything between you and you don’t want to risk what you have. He’s frustrating and you can’t trust half of what he says, but he does make you laugh. He makes you happy.

• “I have to worry,” you say, eyes so serious as you lean on your crutches and look up at him. “Because you won’t.” Oh, kitten, you have no idea how he worries, but he smiles crookedly, reaching out to gently tap you on the nose with a servo. Playing the clueless, goof even as anxiety eats him alive and you swat at his servo without any real heat. Just like you have no idea how much you mean to him, how much he’ll sacrifice to protect that feeling of peace you bring him and to protect you.

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