#song tag: flowers of the forest | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tartagliove · 9 days ago

Text

EASY ON THE EYES, EASIER TO HATE. tartaglia x reader ✧ 2.7k words

when the fae raid your village to take humans into their realm, you think you’ll be safe in the woods. but you run into a fae who introduces himself as tartaglia and realize it might have been safer for you to stay at home.

tags and warnings ✧ fae!tartaglia, gender neutral reader (no pronouns used), reader sews and tailors clothes for a living, the fae are pretty brutal, mentions of violence, (ajax licks) blood and tears, chasing (predator prey dynamic), manhandling, all enemies and no lovers (only tension oops). note ✧ this is a darker fic compared to most of my writing; please let me know if I need to tag anything else! title inspired by the song "psycho" by taylor acorn. a gift for @cruel-hiraeth for teahouse's secret santa! happy new year, kae! i hope this fic helps you start off the year right by loving hating tartaglia >u< this was lots of fun to write hehe and got a little long because the au ran away from me... i hope you enjoy! love you lots <3

The snow falls thick and fast, yet the village continues to burn. Screams and shouts of villagers, mixed with the clashing of metal, rise above the roar of devouring flames of blue.

The fae are here.

They pull people out of their beds, pushing them into the streets. Turn their faces toward the light of a burning house—looking for the beautiful humans, still young and nimble. Or searching for evidence of skill in the arts; a pretty face matters little if one can produce beautiful things in ways that the fae cannot. Those who fail to meet the fae’s standards are left alone, shivering and watching in the cold.

The humans the fae deem acceptable meet a much worse fate. They are picked up and thrown in the back of carts, drawn by horses with ears too long and manes too wild, their coats unusually glossy and vibrant. The chosen who try to escape are bound with rope that cruelly digs into skin. Those who try to fight are taken down brutally, then laughed at as they writhe on the ground—though the fae make sure no permanent damage is done, for that would defeat the purpose of the raid.

A fae bearing a torch of blue flames brings it up to the walls of each house of those who have been chosen. The blue catches on the wood unnaturally quickly, spreading with a voracious hunger despite the wind and snow. Within the hour, nothing will remain besides a pile of ash.

But by then, the fae and the chosen villagers will be long gone.

You are lucky that sleep is so elusive tonight.

Earlier, after tossing and turning in bed for ages, you give up on trying to fall asleep. It is hard to leave your dog who has curled up beside you in a ball of white fluff, but you press a kiss between her ears before changing into some warmer layers. You sweep a thick winter cloak over your shoulders. It is the most luxurious piece of clothing you own; a beautiful dark green cloth lined with fur, decorated by unfinished hand-embroidered leaves and flowers and bunnies—a project you’ve been chipping away at this winter. Putting on boots that have long since been molded to the shape of your feet, you leave your house to catch some fresh air and possibly tire yourself out along the way.

The blanket of pure white is beautiful. The full moon makes everything glitter as snow stretches from the outskirts of the village into the forests beyond. Snowflakes continue to fall, decorating your hair and eyelashes with diamonds, while the shoulders of your cloak become dusted in sugar.

It is so quiet out here. The whistling of the wind and the thoughts in your head are the only sounds you hear. You are used to this, though. Every day you sew and tailor clothes in the back of the village’s clothing store, often alone for hours on end with nothing but your thoughts for company.

A strong gust of wind rocks you on your feet. Clutching your cloak tighter and tossing the fur-lined hood up over your head, you turn your back on the forest to face the trail of footsteps you’ve made through the snow. You should head home.

Still, you take your time approaching the village. The snow dances around you and you can’t help but indulge in a spin, cloak sweeping out around you in a swirl of deep green. Your huff of laughter is stolen by the wind, but the delight within you remains.

Then the first scream rips through the night.

You freeze. Scanning the houses on the outskirts of the village reveals no dangers.

Another cry follows the first and you know something must be terribly wrong.

You start running toward the village, kicking up snow as your mind races. Perhaps someone is getting robbed—but no one in town would dare. Or based on the growing amount of cries and shouts, maybe something happened that has injured a lot of people. A fire?

As you make it to the buildings, you see that you are right. Fire engulfs one of the homes on the far side of town, the flames reaching for the sky. A shudder runs through you at the sight, for the flames are unnaturally blue, and though this is the first time you’ve seen such a thing, you have heard of the stories and warnings about the cyan fire and those that accompany it.

You will not let the fae take you.

Whirling around, you sprint for the woods. The screams of the other villagers ring in your ears, but you know it is impossible for you to take on a single fae, let alone an army of them. They are here to steal humans away. For what, you’re not sure, but it can’t be for anything good. Though you doubt they would choose to take you, the best way to make sure you can see the sunrise tomorrow is to hide in the woods and avoid them all.

Reaching the treeline seems to take ages. You keep looking over your shoulder as you run, half expecting to have been spotted, but you only see more and more flames of blue burning houses to the ground.

Your heart skips a beat at the thought of your home being set ablaze—your dog!—but then you remember the fae only burn the houses of the humans they take and relief washes over you.

With your thoughts consumed by the safety of your dog, you don’t notice that you have slowed, trying to catch your breath in the midst of the trees. Nor do you notice that you aren’t alone anymore, until the newcomer starts speaking.

“My, my. Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

Dread sinks like a stone in your stomach. You spin, eyes wide as they land on the source of those playful and teasing words, leaning against a nearby tree with his arms crossed.

You know he is fae right away by his unnatural beauty. His hair glimmers a coppery orange under the light of the full moon, all windswept and dusted in snow. His eyes seem to glow as they scan you from head to toe, a blue just a shade darker than that of the flames destroying the village. Ears taper into a fine point and from his left one dangles a deep red crystal that only makes you think of blood. He smiles, then, as you observe him. His canines are sharp and long, like that of a fox, and you are frozen with wide, shining eyes of a bunny.

He hums and tilts his head. It is then that you remember he asked a question, and your throat works to find your voice to answer him. “I was out for a stroll,” you manage to say, words somehow steady despite your fluttering pulse.

It’s a half-truth, but half-truths are half-lies, and there’s the slightest hint of bitterness in the back of Ajax’s throat that always accompanies humans’ lies. “Oh, really? And was that before or after we made our presence known?”

“Before, actually,” you tell him honestly. “I couldn’t sleep so I decided to take a walk. The snow is beautiful and the moon is bright—it’s pretty, is it not?” If you talk enough, maybe he’ll lose interest so you can make a run for it. You don’t know much about fae, but with the way he’s dressed in nicer clothing than what most men in your village wear, surely he won’t care for running through the snowy forest.

He smiles. “It is pretty.” His eyes refuse to leave your frame, and a shiver runs through you. You don’t think he’s talking solely about the snow.

Pushing off the tree, he takes a few steps forward, nearly silent despite the boots he wears. He stops when you stiffen, clutching your cloak tighter in your hands. “Where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Tartaglia,” he says, picking one of his many names to give you. “And you are?”

You press your lips together and force a smile. Even you know not to give the fae your name, no matter how much of a gentleman he is pretending to be. Your stomach rolls, unease making your heart rate pick up again. “I’m-” You see the way he perks up in interest, expecting a name. “I’m leaving,” you spit out, turn on your heels, and run.

Ajax watches you leave, the green of your cloak billowing out behind you like a rabbit’s tail inviting him to chase. He laughs, throwing his head back as the sound erupts from his throat. “Oh, you shouldn’t have done that,” he says, his breath beading in the winter air.

He had not intended to take you back to the fae realm, but then you had to go and run. And he wouldn’t dare to let all your hard work go to waste—so he’ll participate in the delightful hunt you’ve set up for him.

The ground is uneven beneath your feet. It is hard to tell where the tree roots are under the thick layer of snow and each breath of air feels like tiny needles stabbing your lungs. But you push on, feet pounding as quickly as you can force yourself to go.

You want to be as far away from that fae as you can get. He had not looked like he was going to chase you when you last saw him, laughing as you ran away, but there was a look in his eyes that pushed you to keep running.

When you toss a quick glance over your shoulder, your breath hitches and terror rushes through you.

He’s there. In the distance, but you can see him, weaving through the trees at an inhuman pace, his long legs carrying him far. He is gaining on you and you fear what he will do when he catches you.

You push yourself to run even harder, but your legs burn and your throat feels tight. In your haste, you fail to see the lower hanging branches of a nearby tree. A cry tears from your lips as a thin branch slices through the skin of your cheek, but you barely feel the pain with your face nearly frozen from the cold.

“Ouch,” the fae calls after you. His voice is loud and clear, and you know he’s only getting closer. “Don’t hurt yourself too much trying to escape, okay?”

Through your huffs for air, you manage to shout back at him. “Piss off! Leave me alone!”

Ajax grins, closing the distance. “I don’t think I will,” he says.

He lunges forward and grabs a fistful of your cloak. You stumble from the pull, tripping over your feet. He uses the momentum to spin you around, pushing you backward until you hit a tree, forcing the air from your lungs. His body presses against yours right after, caging you in with one leg wedged between your own.

“Let go of me!” you shout, slamming your fists into his chest. You try shoving all of your weight into him but he simply presses back harder until his chest is flush against yours.

He laughs—laughs!—as you struggle against him, kicking and yelling and throwing your weight from side to side. He does not budge at all under the onslaught. You do everything you can, but only wear yourself out, leaning back against the tree to catch your breath.

“Are you done?” he asks, amusement coloring his tone. “If not, I can do this all night.”

His reaction makes your blood boil, most of your fear buried beneath anger. You glare down past his arm that still grips your cloak and catch sight of a sliver of pale skin peeking through the folds of his clothes. Moving your gaze back up to his face, you spit out, “I hope you die.”

And then you dig your nails into the exposed skin of his stomach, sink your teeth into the arm holding onto your cloak, and shove with all your might.

Ajax stumbles backward.

You rip yourself out of his hold, twist your body to the side, taking one step forward, free-

Arms wrap around your waist and throw you back toward the tree. Your feet catch on his boot, making you lose your balance, perfect for Ajax to maneuver your body as he wills. This time, he pins your hands above your head, one large hand grasping your wrists, while his other arm presses as an immovable bar across your collarbones. One leg forces its way between your own, and you realize you are at this fae’s mercy, pinned like a prized butterfly in a collection; all pretty and helpless, on display for him to study.

You look down. You don’t want to see the anger on his face before he retaliates for your actions.

The arm across your chest shifts and you flinch as gloved fingers grab your chin, firm but not painful as he tilts your head, forcing you to look at him. You’re taken aback by the grin on his face, canines bared and bloodthirsty, but his eyes are amused.

“Try that again, I dare you.” His voice is rough and yet it doesn’t sound like a threat.

Your eyes grow wide. This kind of a creature is not one you will be able to escape, at least not now—unarmed except for your teeth and nails.

Ajax lets go of your chin, pulling back slightly. He’s delighted by the fire within you. When he first saw you, running toward the woods, he simply thought you a pretty coward. But oh you dared to fight back, using what little defenses humans naturally have, and you even broke skin. Though his fae blood allows him to rapidly heal, the sensation of your nails digging into his abdomen is not one he’ll forget anytime soon.

As he looks away from your face to take you all in, now that you’re not struggling to escape, his gaze catches on your cloak. His eyes light up, tracing over the exquisitely stitched leaves and plants of various green threads, mixed occasionally with lively bunnies of soft browns. There’s a rabbit still unfinished, just a cute head and perked ears, awaiting its body to bring it to life.

“Did you make this?” Ajax asks, thumb brushing over the embroidery.

“No,” you gasp, heart sinking.

He tastes the lie and grins. “That’s not true now, is it?”

It’s over. Now that he knows you are skilled at sewing, he has all the reasons he needs to bring you into his realm. Despair is a heavy weight, mixed with frustration and anger. Tears well in your eyes and slide down the curves of your face. A few droplets spread into the cut on your left cheek, mixing with the beading blood that stains your skin.

Ajax is enchanted. Has he ever seen a human so beautiful?

He can’t stop himself from leaning in even closer until his nose nearly presses against your ear. There’s a moment where you hear him inhale. Then his tongue swipes up your cheek, lapping up tears and blood. His groan of delight is overlapped by your whimper, the cut on your cheek stinging as fear flows through your veins.

His fingers grip your chin again and he turns your head to the other side. Warmth travels up your cheek as he licks your tears, before pulling away with a satisfied smirk on his lips.

As you gasp for breath, he takes in the sight of more tears streaming down your face, shed in mourning for the loss of your life in the human world. Shudders run through you until your tears slow, giving time for your heart to harden. Slowly, you open your eyes to meet his gaze, yours now blazing with fury and hatred.

Ajax grins, taking in the vision before him. “You’re perfect.”

note ✧ ajax makes you point out your home and he gets to dig through your stuff as you collect a few things to take with you. don't worry, doggo gets to come with and is treated very well (fae like animals more than humans, usually).

this is not quite the type of thing i usually write, but i hope it was still an enjoyable read! i'd love to hear what you think c:

#childe x reader #ajax x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin x reader #reader insert #genshin impact x reader #childe x you #posts this and goes to bed so i don't have to look any of you in the eyes GOODNIGHT #my writing #my writing: fic #fanfic: genshin #fanfic: tartaglia #tw: suggestive #<- just in case #my writing: easy on the eyes easier to hate

234 notes · View notes

phone4pills · 2 months ago

Text

COOKIES Matt x singer!Reader

no warnings apart from the fact that you can’t be nonchalant reading it, requested by anon

Matt’s head falls on your chest like rain falls on a flower. His soft curls tickle your collarbone as he groans into your skin, exhaustion coating his voice. Sometimes you guys have long days and all Matt needs is to fall victim to your tranquil embrace.

You giggle slightly when he tells you about the things he saw and heard that day. And he loves your giggle, he loves feeling it ripple through your chest before leaving your lips. Your beautiful lips that only ever brought joy to his face when they parted to speak. Or when they planted kisses along the top of his head.

The lights where dim, there was barely any sound in the cabin and the two of you lay in the bed, basking in each others heat. He’d always grace you with a few pecks on your body, wherever his lips could reach, whispers sweet nothings between each one.

You decided the getaway was necessary after your argument. When you two discussed it, you realised both of your anger was built over a foundation of nerves and stress so you agreed to put the devices to a side for a week and take a trip to the more scenic parts of the country. A forest with a couple cabins here and there for booking.

It was just you, Matt and the natural world. And so far, you’d been thriving. Next to you on the bed lay your song-writing book, in which you’d been brain storming the depths of the peace you felt. It was like a warm day after a month of damp showers. You knew Matt could relate when hugs warm breaths slowed to a steady pace. “Everything is so simple without social media. I feel like I can breathe without being called out for it.”

You chuckled, tilting your head to get a better look at his face. He hadn’t looked this relaxed in weeks. His eyelids were slightly hanging over his pupils, lips parted a little. The smell of cookie batter wafted into the room and your eyes widened. The cookies! Quickly sitting up, you started to get off the bed. Matt groaned as he was forcefully rolled onto his back next to you.“Matt, I can’t let the cookies burn. C’mon let’s go decorate them.”

“I put a bear’s face on mine. What about you?” You asked Matt, looking over to the boy who was on the other side of the island, his tongue rested on his top lip in concentration. You waited as he finished up. The second he glanced up to see the cookie you were holding next to your head, feeling proud, his lips parted. “So you’re a singer and a baker now?

You shook your head with a grin. “Well, let’s see yours.” Matt held his creation close to his chest with a frown. You begged and begged until he finally showed you. Slowly turning the treat to face you, the boy revealed a really adorable love heart iced onto the cookie. Underneath, he’d written ‘For my [y/n]’. Your own heart melted at the sight. “Aw Matt!”

He shook his head, putting it down on the plate in front of him. “Yours is so much better.” But you disagreed, hurrying towards him and wrapping your arms around his neck. You gave him a kiss of gratitude, pulling away only to say, “Nothing compares to that beautiful heart. The one on the cookie and the one in here.” You placed a hand on his chest before leaning in so your lips met his smile again. And kissing that smile was like embodying daylight.

Tag list: @hearts4werka @pvssychicken @sturnslcver @sophand4n4 @sofieeeeex @lovingregulusblack

Short little piece for you. Sorry this took a while, I was writing a lot for Chris but it’s about time I put some Matt stuff into the world. Thanks for the request from my anon. MASTERLIST is linked!

- ©phone4pills

250 notes · View notes

thefreakandthehair · 1 month ago

Text

mistletoe.

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | prompts: mistletoe | wc: 999 | rating: teen & up | tags: alternate universe- no upside down, alternate universe- flower shop au, eddie pov, eddie munson has a crush on steve harrington, confident!steve harrington, fluff, getting together, first kiss, background buckingham mention

It’s chaos.

Clippings, and rogue petals, and ribbons that still need to be tied into bows as far as the eye can see. Long tables lined with crinkling plastic to protect the aged wood take up the center of the room, and somewhere off in the distance, Eddie can hear Chrissy on the phone with what sounds like a disgruntled, last-minute customer.

“... Sir, it’s December. Most of our poinsettias have been reserved for weeks. We have two left that we can give you. You can have them, or you can—”

Eddie’s sure Chrissy’s about to kindly tell the phone stranger to go fuck himself and he couldn’t be prouder of how far she’s come, really, but he loses the thread on the conversation when Steve bustles in from the back.

“How many carnations does one middle school Winter Wonderland dance need, anyways? Are there even this many kids in the town?” In his warm, forest green jacket and black beanie with wind-flushed cheeks and rosy nose, Steve exhales and sets the box of carnations down on the counter.

“Enough to pay the rent this month with carnations alone, apparently,” Eddie jokes, tapping Steve’s jean-clad shin with the toe of his boot. “We’ll be here all night doing these ribbons, won’t we?”

He tries to make it sound like a chore, like something he hasn’t been looking forward to since Chrissy told them she had a date and couldn’t stay. Any amount of alone time with Steve is welcome, even if it means tying tiny bows on small carnations and pricking his finger a hundred times with the stupid little pins.

“Probably, yeah,” Steve shrugs with a smile. “It’s not so bad though, right?”

“Not at all.” Eddie bites the inside of his cheek to keep from beaming.

When Chrissy wraps up her part— invoices, confirmations, and all of the paperwork shit that Eddie and Steve are better off leaving to Chrissy— she practically skips out of the office with a wave and a smirk.

“You do know that if she and Robin hit it off, this is gonna be a regular thing, right?” Eddie jokes, hoisting himself up to sit on one of the tables and grabbing a ribbon to wrap around another flower.

“Robin hasn’t stopped talking about Chrissy for months. This is going to be our life, Ed. Mark my words.” Steve laughs with Eddie’s favorite crooked smile, the one that only ever seems to be targeted at him.

He tries not to let Steve’s phrasing dig its claws too deep into his lovestruck brain, but our life wiggles its way in regardless.

Eddie looks around and takes in all of the fine details— a half-eaten bag of plain chips, two cans of coke, carnations and ribbons strewn about in somewhat orderly piles. Chrissy left the radio on when she left, the station alternating between the top hits and classic holiday songs, and Steve bobs his head to Wham!’s Last Christmas.

This could be their life; not just the tumultuous riptide of highs and lows, but all of the mundane minutiae in between.

Eddie and Steve.

EddieandSteve.

“You okay? Stab your thumb again?” Steve asks, tearing Eddie from his reverie.

“Yes, and actually, yes,” Eddie laughs, breathy through his nose, and wipes his thumb on his jeans. Before Steve can grab his hand and check him over, and probably push Eddie over the edge into doing something incredibly fucking stupid in the process, he brushes it off. “It’s fine. Let's get these bitches done.”

Hours pass, quickly and comfortably, and they eventually tie their last ribbon.

“We did it, Jesus H. Christ,” Eddie celebrates, hopping off of the table and tossing the last carnation into the box. “Do you still have skin on your fingers? I don’t think I have fingerprints anymore.”

“Now would be the time to go commit some crimes,” Steve snorts, his nose wrinkling, and Eddie wants to kiss him right on the mouth. “Before you head out though, I uh, I think we forgot one. Close your eyes for a second.”

“What?”

“Just close your eyes? Please?”

Eddie does as Steve asks because he’s helpless to not, his brows knitting together in confusion because closed eyes. He hears rustling and the sound of scissors snipping ribbon. What’s so special about this carnation? What’s so secretive that Eddie has to close his eyes and miss valuable alone time with Steve? Doesn’t Steve get it? Every second with his eyes closed are seconds he doesn’t get to stare.

Steve’s stool slides against the tile floor, scraping as Eddie feels Steve standing closer. Close enough that he can feel Steve’s breath against him when he says, “Okay, open your eyes.”

In front of him is Steve Harrington, his favorite smile, and wide, hesitant eyes holding a hastily tied together bundle of mistletoe just above their heads.

“I know it’s not Christmas yet or anything, but I couldn’t wait.”

“You’re not fucking with me?” Eddie asks, heart clattering in his chest as hope gouges its way out of its deepest recesses.

“Definitely not. I really like you, maybe more, and I know I didn’t have to wait for some big moment but tonight, just the two of us, it felt right. If I’m wrong, I’ll chuck this in the garbage and we can never bring it up again but—”

Eddie launches himself at Steve, both arms wrapping around Steve’s neck.

Maybe he should’ve taken it slower— maybe their first kiss should’ve been patient, tender— but he’ll have other opportunities to show him the softness he deserves. Instead, Eddie kisses Steve just like he’s fallen in love with him: spontaneously, impulsively, urgently. Steve drops the thicket of branches and pulls him in closer, one hand balling the edge of Eddie’s shirt up in a fist by his hip and the other cupping the back of Eddie’s head, meeting his intensity wordlessly.

Through the murky daze of Steve’s lips against his, Eddie hopes that this is their life.

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #steddieholidaydrabbles #myblurbs #inspired by my husband's family owning the local flower shop #(please do not expect your local florist to pull poinsettias outta their asses)

322 notes · View notes

mochinomnoms · 11 months ago

Note

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Congrats on 1k followers Mochi (っ˘з(˘⌣˘ ) ♡ you so so so so deserve it. You always make me smile when I see your posts so I hope you have fun writing them.

If I might make a request, could I have Jade, Trey, and Ace with a romantic prompt 16 (“I won't lose you again.”)? I want to see them cry a lot just a tiny bit. Feel free to let the vibes guide you, I trust it will be very good.

-Yuri

jade leech, trey clover, ace trappola (separate) x gn!reader [tags] — angst in Ace's, hurt in Trey's, humor in Jade, implied time loop theory [wc} - 1,000+ each prompt 16: “I won't lose you again.” song: Be, Talk (Hozier, “Wasteland, Baby!”), Francesca (Hozier, “Unreal Unearth”) note - @yuri-is-online got it! went a lil wild cause I got massive inspo lmao. Also, let me know if yall can guess the anime I got inspired from with Ace's francesca (1k event)

“Be like the love that discovered the sin (Lover, be good to me) / That freed the first man and will do so again / And, lover, be good to me (Lover, be good to me)”

There were several things that caught Jade Leech’s attention during his life, but only a few kept his attention, after which he’d abandon his ‘toy’. Fungi, mountains, and poisonous flowers, were exceptions, to name a few. He had to admit to himself (and only himself) that there was one thing that revolved in his mind all this time later, dug deep into his brain like the mycelium of his beloved mushrooms in the forest floor.

One. Thing. You. The funny little human from the broken down dorm. The funny little human with not a single ounce of magic in their veins. The cute little human that was captivated by his merform, an entirely foreign concept to them. The sweet little human with the even sweeter crush on him all throughout his second and third years.

Perhaps it was cruel of him to entertain your affections with no real desire to follow through on them. Actually, scratch that, it was cruel of him to do so. It was just so…interesting to him at the time. He grew alongside his brother and Azul, none of them exactly being the most sought after during their childhood or teens. They were feared, each of them for multiple reasons, not exactly prime boyfriend material, despite some of their attempts to curate a specially crafted facade.

Yet, you were so bewitched by him, enthralled, beguiled, and dare he say lovesick with him despite all the signs screaming “DANGER! DANGER! DANGER!” So please, forgive him for shamelessly flirting, and finding entertainment in your reactions.

The dilated pupils as he leaned down to make eye contact. The sharp intakes when he cornered you against a library shelf, nonchalantly reaching for a random book. The shiver down your spine as he would lean over in class to whisper some nonsense in your ear regarding the class. All for the sole purpose to see you blush a pretty color and get flustered. Not for the jump in his heart at the thought of being revered so sweetly, or a potential lover being so good to him.

It was just a bit of fun. That’s all it was. That’s all it was meant to be, when he finally left for his internship his third year. He paid no mind to the wistful look on your face as he gave his goodbyes, nor the strange creak in his heart at the sight.

Jade Leech was all he’s always been, and all he will ever be: a man that left his toys once they ceased to interest him.

Which is why he loathed that he’s been unable to remove you from his mind. Though, did he really? It wasn’t annoyance or hate, but an aching yearning that resided in his being. Jade spent many months tossing and turning in bed as he dreamt of you: shy smiles, soft eyes, and sweet words. He wanted, he needed to be free from this love-struck feeling, this infatuation. It was dragging him down from his finely constructed pedestal, like a sin striking an angel down from heaven.

Yet, coming back to campus now, presenting his internship research at the end of the year, Jade found himself strangely content with the concept as he watched you. You’d taken on your role at NRC quite beautifully, and were the object of affection for many admirers, much to his dismay. Currently, you were attending to visitors, directing them to their destinations and helping the fourth years find their old clubs and friends, while he admired from around the corner.

You were as you’ve always been, sweet, cute, and clueless to your surroundings as he stalked closer until he was behind you, leaning down until his lips inched close to your ear.

He purred breathlessly into your ear, “Oh Prefect~ Is that you, my dear?” Jade didn’t miss the shudder that flew up your spine as you jumped away in shock.

“EEP! W-what the—” You whipped your head around to berate the man before realizing who it was. “Oh, jeez, Jade! You’re back—why’d you do that?!”

The tall man chuckled as he straightened to his normal height. Oh, how he missed you. And your reactions, of course.

“I simply missed your delightful expressions, you always have been rather reactive with me, haven’t you?”

“What—nooo. I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Huffing, you crossed your arms and jerked your gaze away in irritation. At least, it would be if not for the blush on your cheeks.

“Fuhuhuh, that blush suggests otherwise.” A giddy feeling filled his chest as Jade inched closer to you, in which you backed away. This continued until he managed to corner you against the stone way of the hallway.

“This is a familiar sight, is it not?” Jade cooed as he leaned down again, a hand reaching to caress your cheek. “I did miss you, didn’t you—”

A smack. Jade blinked in surprise as his hand was thrown back by your own. Now you looked more annoyed than flustered.

“I’m sure you did.” You hissed sarcastically, narrowing your gaze at him. “Ha! Please, more like missed messing with me. If you really missed me, you’d’ve called or messaged me like the others in our class. Even Azul checked up on me!”

Jade…hadn’t been aware of that. He’s been too into his own head, reliving memories with you that it hadn’t occurred to him that you’d actually might lose affection for him.

The thought made him a little sick.

He pouted, taking your chin in his hand to tilt your head up to his. “Is that so? Please forgive me for my most egregious sin. I don’t wish to lose you again.”

“Hmph, again?” You made a sound of offense. Despite your words, you still looked up at Jade with a shy gaze, eyes darting down to his lips every so often.

You never had me in the first place.” You scoffed, trying to avert your blushing gaze, though he kept a firm grip, moving to squeeze your cheeks into a pucker.

Jade chuckled, “Your previous actions say otherwise, though I am quite a fool for not taking what was mine in the first place.”

“Y-yours?! You-you-you can’t just say things like that—eep!” You let you a deliciously cute squeak, which he swallowed up as he stole a kiss.

“Now, now my little lover, be good to me and let me revel in your affections, I’ve derived myself from them for far too long now, have I not?”

And I'd be the immediate forgiveness in Eurydice / Imagine being loved by me / I won't deny I've got in my mind now (Hey, yeah) / All the things I would do

He wasn’t sure why he had any faith in Crowley to get you back home. Really, that’s on him for thinking the headmage would put any work into your return home. If Trey had known that you’d still be here in Twisted Wonderland, years after his graduation, he wouldn’t have ever broken up with you.

Granted, it hadn’t exactly been his choice in the first place, as you had abruptly ended the relationship towards the end of his fourth year. Told him to enjoy his life without you weighing him down, despite his insistence that you’d do no such thing.

Trey finally relented when you told him that you had a world, a family, a home (without him) to get to. Somewhere you belonged, somewhere that wasn’t with him.

It hurt, yes, knowing that you were never really meant to be with him in the first place. It was simply by magical chance that you were plucked from your world to turn his own upside down. Likewise, it was simply by chance that you and him got together to steal and eat his heart, leaving him almost an empty shell of himself.

So it was a surprise to see you at Riddle’s wedding, of all places, dressed up in a pretty green outfit as you giggled with some bridesmaids. Seven, you looked good, the fabric hugging all the right spots. Maybe he was being a bit delusional, but Trey swears that the green of your outfit matched the color of his hair, and he had a small possessive streak pass through him at the thought. If it wasn’t for Cater pinching his arm, Trey would be sure that he was in a dream.

“Ow! Cater!” Trey hissed, rubbing his arm as the strawberry-blonde smirked at him. Cater’s hair was longer now, but he kept his signature style from school still.

“Go on, talk to them.” Cater nudged him with his elbow, gesturing to you. “I know you want too~”

Trey huffed, watching the liquid in his cup as he swirled his punch. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“Oh, come on!” Cater whined, latching on to Trey’s arm.

“We didn’t end on good terms.”

Cater countered, “You didn’t end on bad ones either.”

“Hmph.” Trey clicked his tongue, eyeing you from the corner of his eye. Your hair had grown longer, and was dyed. It looked nice on you.

Still leaning against Trey, Cater pouted before a mischievous look passed over his face as he leaned in to whisper in Trey’s ear.

“Besides, I heard they’ve stayed single since being with you.”

“…” A sigh. “Really?”

“Totes, so you really ought to go make a move before that blonde dude does, though it doesn’t look like he’s having much luck.”

Finally deciding to look up, Trey noticed your uncomfortable expression as the guy twirled a strand of your hair with his fingers. Despite being known for being rather mild-mannered, a handful of your mutual friends knew the truth: Trey had a nasty jealous streak where you were concerned.

He wasn’t sure when or how he got across the room, but Trey was suddenly hovering over you and the blond man, hazel eyes piercing his back. Surprise flitted your features as a hand was offered to you, along with a familiar.

“Sorry, hope I’m not interrupting.” Trey had to withhold a smug smirk as he saw your eyes light up at the sight of him. “But would you mind sharing a dance?”

You eagerly nodded, taking his hand and mumbling a half-hearted apology to the other man as Trey guided you to the dance floor, filled with couples sharing a dance to the latest love song.

His hands rested on the familiar curve of your waist as your arms wrapped around his neck, hesitating before finally settling your hands on the back of his neck. The two of you swayed to the music, a surprisingly comfortable silence between you two. Honestly? It was as if you two never broke up, with how your bodies curled into each other, heart-to-heart.

Yet, neither one of you seems willing to start the conversation he was begging to have.

“… You look beautiful—”

“You look wonderful—”

Both of you opened your mouths at the same time, interrupting each other before sharing a giggle.

“Sorry, sorry. You go first.”

Trey shook his head. “No, go ahead.”

You smiled, something soft and a bit sad, before looking him up and down. “You look good, got stockier. The bakery’s got you working hard, hm?”

“Ha, yeah. It has, what…about you?”

Your lips thinned, as you looked away. “Still at NRC with Grim, we teach the new Beast-tamer curriculum. It’s…fun.”

Silence fell over you two again, the elephant in the room hanging between you two.

“You’ve been here, all this time, then?”

You nodded, a sliver of shame passing over your features.

“He never did find me a way home after we…you know…”

Trey sharply inhaled, tightening his grip and rubbing soothing circles as he nodded. “Yeah…why didn’t you…tell me. Why didn’t you come back?” He left out the ‘to me.’

You stopped dancing, making him stumble slightly as he watched your face intently, heart aching at the tears growing in your eyes.

“I—” Trey watched as you swallowed a lump in your throat, voice shaky. “—I felt so bad that you’d spent your time and energy on being with me when I might not even stay, so I wanted you to go off and live life. But then, he never did find me a way back, and I realized that I just pushed you away, and I just couldn’t face you—”

You broke into sobs, burying your face into his chest as Trey led you away from the dance floor. He managed to pull you into a secluded hallway, one for the staff to enter in and out of the kitchen. Trey held you close as he rubbed your back, resting his cheek on the top of your head as you rested into the crook of his neck.

“I-I'm sorry… I shouldn't be…” You were sniffling, letting out little hiccups as you spoke. “—crying like this… I'm not trying to make you… feel bad… I just… I should go…”

As you moved to pull away, Trey tightened his grip, hand reaching up to caress your cheek as you looked up at him with watery eyes. You were as beautiful as the day you left him, tears streaking your makeup and all.

“Don’t, please, I—” Trey sighed, resting his forehead against yours. “I won’t lose you again. I missed you so much, please, stay?”

You nodded, still sniffling, as you moved to kiss the palm holding your cheek. “I missed you too, but aren’t you mad at me? For not coming back?”

Trey shook his head, smiling softly at you. Whatever anger he had was immediately forgiven at the sight of you before him. He couldn’t care less about the last few years, as long as he had you back in his arms again.

“As long as I can have you back in my arms, the past is forgiven. As long as…you’ll have me?”

The two of you shared another sweet smile, leaning into each other to press your lips in a soft, fleeting kiss. The type of kiss you give when you can’t tell the difference between a dream and reality. Cater’s quick photo of you two lovers would later help cement that fact that this was reality.

It’s a week later that Trey has that exact same picture set as his home and lock screen.

I'd tell them, "Put me back in it" (Da-ah, darlin') / I would do it again (Ah-ah, ah-ah) / If I could hold you for a minute (Da-ah, darlin') / I'd go through it again (Ah-ah, ah-ah)

It’s all dark. It’s always dark until the moment Ace opens his eyes and the coffin opens. Ace goes through the orientation ceremony, only to have it interrupted by you stumbling into the Mirror Chamber, an energetic and egotistical Grim demanding to take your spot.

It’s dark in the cave that he goes into with you two and Deuce to collect the new chandelier magistone. You're screaming, he’s screaming, so are Deuce and Grim. It’s a shit show, even before Riddle comes to drag him and Deuce back to the dorm.

It’s dark when he makes the trek to your dorm after being collared. Grumbling about just wanting a snack, about Riddle’s unnecessary rage, and about who the hell can remember all 810 rules. It’s light, though, that he sees when you open the door to Ramshackle, the warm, old lightbulbs from the hallway creating a halo around you.

It’s light again, in the morning as the sun filters through the broken window, you poking him awake to get to class.

Ace has never been one to get sentimental, the idea of love is frightening, to be frank. But looking at you again, light curtaining your features, he was reminded why he did what he did.

Why he punched Riddle for his outburst and insults to you.

Why he threw himself into the fight against Leona as he threatened to turn you to sand.

Why he let himself get “tricked” by Azul again and again, get beaten up by the twins under the sea again and again. Why he tried to run back to school to your rescue, only to be too late again and again. Why he endured the embarrassment of losing the SDC.

He’d hoped that this time he’d be able to avoid getting into a coma from the S.T.Y.X. Charon robots again, but he had no luck, so you once again had to depend on Rook and Epel getting you through the Isle of Woe. Maybe he should’ve focused on getting Grim back after scratching you, or maybe just prevented him from eating all the blot stones, then you wouldn’t have been in this mess.

It might have prevented Malleus’s own blot, though Ace wasn’t really sure what led to his spiraling. It was probably a combination of a lot of information, as it was with the rest of the blots. Either way, he’d been hoping that preventing Grim from eating the 8th blot stone would’ve prevented this.

Ace wouldn’t know though, as he’s been through this year at least 4 times now. Trying to prevent what he’s slowly starting to believe is inevitable.

He’s replayed your deaths over and over in his brain. The first one that happened, he was upset for losing a friend, but probably would’ve gotten over it. It sounds harsh, but that was the reality of the situation.

After the second loop, Ace started noticing you more. Things he missed out on the first time. The way you smiled, the way you walked, the way you tugged on your shirt when you were nervous. It was cute.

It was his third loop that he started noticing little things. How you liked to grab on to his arm when it got too crowded. How you always made an effort to help him in class, despite having to catch up with nearly 2 decades of curriculum just to understand the professors. He noticed how you’d blush whenever he’d make flirty jokes.

It was his fourth, and current, loop that he really started to view you differently. That he started to view these second, third, and fourth chances as a way to keep you safe. To not lose you again.

You were always helping him, despite the stress he caused you. Every time you’d let him crash in your dorm, eventually convincing you to let him share at least your room. He’d be up, tossing and turning as he watched your sleep. He wasn’t trying to be creepy, but seeing you take your whole situation in stride, every overblot, every condescending comment, every shenanigan Grim, Deuce, and him really made Ace think about why he was doing this.

Was it because he felt bad? No, it certainly wasn’t the first time, anyway. Was it because he liked having you around? Kinda, maybe a little. Was it because every time he’d ask you why you got involved with all the drama at school, you’d answer with a shrug, a smile, and simply answer “I gotta protect my friends, as best I can anyway.” That was probably partially the reason.

He thinks the reason he’s so desperate to make sure you stay around is because of the promise you made with him the first loop around: “If I can’t go home, let’s always stick together! I like you, and you like me, so we can support each other every way we can.”

You’d made this promise, in one form or another, every loop.

“Promise we’ll stay friends, even after graduation! I wanna stick by my first friend’s side!”

“Ace? Do you actually promise to take care of me? I know I’m a pain, no magic and all, but I’ve taken care of you in my own way, do you really promise to do the same?”

It was his fourth time watching you live your year in Twisted Wonderland. And it’s then that it clicked for him: he was falling deep into love with the magicless Prefect that cared way too much for others, and much too little for themselves.

“Ace…” you gasped, a bloodied hand reaching out for him as an overblotted Grim made a rampage throughout the Mirror Chamber. He could hear the others screaming, magic being cast, and a distinct yowl from Grim as Riddle launched another fire spell at him.

Ace cringed as the giant direbeast that was once his little fiery friend screamed in pain, running around until he tripped and fell through where there was once a wall. Grim let out an eerie, inhuman scream as he fell, a sickening crunch echoing as he landed on the stone ground. For the fourth time, Grim was gone. But that didn’t matter, not when he was watching you die for the fourth time.

“Hey! Hey, hey, hey I’m here.” Ace had managed to crawl over to you, clasping your hand with his own. He rested your head on his lap as you coughed, red liquid leaving your mouth as you did.

“No, nononononono—you’re fine!” Ace hyperventilated as he looked over your battered body. He was sure that he had prevented Grim from eating Vil’s blot stone. Was that not the reason he turned into this? Did he only need to eat a few before turning into a monster? He was so confident that he’d managed to keep you safe. So why? Whywhywhywhywhywhywhy—

“Ace.” He froze as you murmured his name, your other hand reaching for his cheek, wiping away the tears he didn’t realize he was leaving.

“Ace, promise me you’ll stay with me? I don’t want to be alone right now…” you hiccuped as you started crying, curling into his chest as Ace cradled you. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t help! I was so useless, so useless to let Grim get to this point. So useless as a friend, I’m so sorry!”

Ace curled into you, ignoring the voices from behind you two, no doubt the other students coming to the realization that you’d be grievously harmed.

“I’ll stay with you, I’m always with you.” Ace shuddered. He felt like throwing up. “I’m going to try again, I won’t be too late this time. I’ll make sure to keep you safe this time. I won't lose you again.”

Ace ignored the person shaking his shoulder as he watched you hyperventilate, before your breathing slowed and eventually stopped. He ignored the surprised cries as magic swirled around him, as he activated his signature spell for the fifth, and hopefully final time:

With a flick of the wand, a rhythm sublime,

Reverse The Clock, turn back the chime,

No time to say 'Hello', goodbye!

I'm late, I'm late, I'm late!

It’s all dark. It’s always dark until the moment Ace opens his eyes and the coffin opens for the fifth time.

comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷

#mochi asks #twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #trey clover x reader #ace trapolla x reader #jade leech #trey clover #ace trappola #francesca (1k event)#mochi fic

569 notes · View notes

birdietrait · 1 year ago

Text

🎲birdie's random cas challenge🎲

✿ This challenge is all about mixing different prompts together to get interesting results!

✿ Sometimes rolls can be redundant or conflict with each other, so if that's the case, just re-roll!

✿ If you don’t roll an occult type in The Main Theme, you are free to choose! I didn’t include human because it’s the default.

✿ Use the tag #birdie.rcc and tag me so I can see your sims!

Use this to create a new sim, make over a townie, or make over one of your own sims!

Here is a random number generator that may come in handy

Rolls under the cut 🕺

The Main Theme 1-58 (Roll 1-3 times)

Your favorite movie

The forest

Your favorite decade

Cyberpunk

Western

The ocean

The first song in your favorite playlist

A myth/fairy tale

Your favorite TV series

Emo

Goth

Grunge

Punk

Skater

Pastel

Rainbow

Boho

Hippie

Streetwear

Vampire

Alien

Spellcaster

Plant Sim

Werewolf

Fairy

Ghost

Zombie

Mermaid

Horror

Your favorite video game (other than the sims)

Preppy

Retro

Your favorite book

Your star sign

The moon

Apocalyptic

Fantasy

Medieval

Winter

Spring

Summer

Autumn

Your favorite flower

Your birthstone

Your favorite cryptid

Sporty

Rocker

Glam

Dark academia

Royalty

The sun

Monochromatic

Barbie

Bratz

Your favorite color

Primary colors

Prom

An iconic townie (from any sims game)

Details 1-40 (Roll as many times as you like)

Bald

Buzz cut

Short hair

Medium length hair

Long hair

Black hair

Brown hair

Blonde hair

Red hair

White hair

Grey hair

Colorful hair

Warm skin tone

Neutral skin tone

Cool skin tone

Fantasy skin tone

Blue eyes

Brown eyes

Green eyes

Black eyes

White eyes

Grey eyes

Hazel eyes

Colorful/Fantasy eyes

Freckles

Eye bags

Scars

Body hair

Piercings

A hat

Glasses

No makeup

Minimal/Neutral makeup

Colorful makeup

No eyebrows

Fangs

Dimples

Gap teeth

Tattoos

Acne

#ts4 #ts4 challenge #cas challenge #ts4 cas challenge #ts4 simblr #simblr #sims 4 #birdie.rcc #ignore the ugly header image i tried 😔

1K notes · View notes

deanbrainrotwritings · 1 year ago

Text

— SEMPITERNAL

SUMMARY : part II of gimme half. vanilla is a basic flavour. but sometimes it’s just the right thing for mornings like this.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), p in v, smut, unprotected sex, fluff

WORD COUNT : 2.2k

A/N : bring me the horizon song title. ah, the second day of January, getting closer to Dean’s bday, it will be the best day of my life or the worst. I have ocd (so does my mom) so idk what’s normal lmao Xxxx

It must have all been a dream.

She would never go to her neighbour’s house. Not when they were supposed to hate each other. Not when it was freezing cold. Not at night. Not close to Christmas…

He was very pretty though, in her dreams. Still, so pretty. Irresistible. Hot. Frustrating. Adorable. A million lovely things. It felt very real. So real.

His lips. All pink, warm, soft, and sweet. His hands. Rough, warm, calloused, and skilful. His skin. Freckled, covered in scars, tattooed, hot. God… she wanted that in reality, too. To feel it against every inch of her skin once more. She especially wanted what’s between his legs.

Were her sheets always this cold? This thin and… not downy at all?

If she could return to her dream. That would be nice. Making friends with her enemy, Dean… Well, making love is more what it was. Very rough, desperate, hot love.

She grumbled sleepily, lifting the sheet up her body. Trying to get her arms warm, to stop the cold from getting through the openings. Something stopped her, something hard behind her, and she didn’t want to wake up.

And wait… why was the window in the opposite direction?

She rubbed her bleary eyes and looked around the unfamiliar room, the beige and white bed sheets that were definitely not hers. The pictures and posters on the walls were unfamiliar…

She sat up on the bed slowly and twisted her body cautiously to peek at whoever was sleeping beside her.

Her eyes widened, her jaw dropped slightly.

Dean.

She shut her mouth and smiled, trying not to laugh at the events that occurred the night before. They were definitely not a dream. For her bravery, she deserved a treat. Maybe six.

He really did look pretty.

Those muscular arms holding his pillow, skin freckled and lightly tanned. The sheets clung tightly to his hips, that tiny, narrow waist of his. So jealous. And… oh, God, he wasn’t wearing anything.

His lips were parted slightly, pink and swollen from sleep, maybe from all the kissing they were doing the previous night. He had the prettiest lashes, so long, thick, curled naturally. What even was he? Those gorgeous freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks. His messy hair looked so soft.

Peaceful. Relaxed.

The sunlight made him look even more divine. Honey and gold, a verdant forest, a soft flower in a meadow. Springtime in the winter. That was Dean.

She looked around his room, she was completely naked. Some warm clothes and fluffy socks to keep the cold at bay would be nice.

She opened his drawer to look for some socks, sliding the top drawer out. She blinked at the contents inside. A vibrating cock ring stood out from the other things inside, in rose pink. She chuckled. There were a few candy wrappers, jolly ranchers, unused condoms in the front, a steel gun over books. Cute. There were old movie tickets, a Bob Seger cassette tape, Crime and Punishment, Persuasion, The Lord of the Rings, and 11/22/63. He’s so hot.

She closed it quietly and opened the second one. One half had perfectly folded, plain black t-shirts and the other half had only white t-shirts. She pulled out a black shirt from the top and put it on carefully. She took a deep breath of the scent of the softener that remained and sighed. Yum.

She opened the third and final one. Finally socks. They were neatly organised, folded, tightly fitting in rows and columns. Blue penguin socks caught her attention, but so did the pink ones with otters, the purple ones with avocados, and the green ones with giraffes. Could he get any more endearing?

She picked the boring black ones at the back. What if the fun socks were special to him?

She got out of his bed, walking quietly across his very cute bedroom, and into the bathroom. His very clean bathroom.

She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Thank God for the shower she took with Dean last night. No raccoon face from her eyeliner this morning. But she was definitely sore. Good sore.

He’s so… hospitable. And a billion other things, too many lovely things to list. She laughed quietly to herself, turning the water on in the sink to wash her face.

Maybe she shouldn’t get too ahead of herself with these thoughts and feelings. Last night was fast, blurry, heated, and emotional. Things could change, she knew that better than anyone. Morning clarity. After sex clarity? Who knows.

It would be impossible not to have marks over her body after the night they had. She turned the water off, gently shook her hands in the sink, and used the shirt to pat her face dry. Curiously, she kept the shirt up, and stared down at her body.

There were bruises on her hips the shape of his fingers. And Reddish-purplish marks on her breasts, sternum, and stomach, even higher up on her collarbone. There were bite marks on her shoulders that stung to touch-

“Sorry about those,” Dean’s raspy morning voice made her jump. She dropped the shirt and crossed her arms over her chest, smiling timidly at Dean. She didn’t know why. After the hot night they had together, being seen naked the next morning should be the last thing to make her this flustered.

“I’m not getting in the way of your secret escape, am I?” He changed the subject, teasingly smirking at her. He pushed himself off the doorframe. Unfortunately, he was wearing a soft grey robe tied loosely around his waist, some grey slippers, and his hair was a cute-slash-sexy mess.

“No…” she replied softly, running her fingers through her somewhat messy hair. It still felt wet… maybe she should have stopped Dean from throwing her into his bed after their shower, but he seemed more than thrilled to bury his face between her legs. God, that stubble on his jaw felt amazing between her sensitive thighs.

“Good,” he mumbled tiredly, smiling down at her.

He was irresistible. She could already feel heat forming between her legs, wetness seeping from her entrance, and her heart pound quickly in the casket of bones the closer he got.

Maybe it was those pretty green eyes of his, the burning fire in his gaze simmering deep within the golden specks. He checked her out from head to toe slowly, shamelessly, devouringly. Why would he have any shame after the night they had?

Her body reacted to him embarrassingly fast. Like two atoms, she ached to be fused together with him. Being in his presence just felt right. It felt fiery, more now than last night, more than when he was asleep. When he was asleep, he was more than adorable, but now… She wanted him on her again.

Her skin burned like acid rain had dripped down over her body, but it was just his hungry eyes. It was the memory of his mouth, his tongue, his lips, and his teeth. All marking her, making her his own.

Her lungs ached for slower, deeper breaths as he sucked the oxygen from the room with that deep, husky voice of his. He left her breathless, with those soft eyes and tender smile.

All he did was put toothpaste on the brush he gave her last night. He smiled when he gave it to her, his fingers brushed against hers, like jumpstarting the dead battery of a car.

She tried to hide the sharp inhale when she took the toothbrush from him by biting her lip. He seemed to like her reaction, a smile tugged at his lips, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to and neither did she.

She watched him do the same to his own toothbrush and slowly, wordlessly, he started to brush his teeth.

“Cute cock ring,” she told him casually, and began brushing her own teeth. He almost spit out the toothpaste and saliva when he laughed, a very beautiful laugh that made her insides warm and melty like cheese in a burger, or butter on pancakes, or whipped cream on waffles.

She was hungry.

“You looked through my stuff,” he stated, a mouthful of toothpaste still in his mouth. He continued to brush his teeth, staring at her the whole time rather than looking into the mirror. His eyes were sparkling, and not just because of the cold winter sunlight.

“I was cold,” she shrugged, then spit out what she had left before continuing to brush. He spit everything out at last, regarding her with a smirk.

“Guess I shoulda been a better host.” Dean finished brushing his teeth and she did soon after as well, waiting for him to finish freshening up from the doorframe.

“You more than made up for it last night,” she grinned, catching the smirk on his face, the sudden dreaminess that washed over his green eyes. Her insides twisted excitedly and he finally looked at her with those soft verdurous eyes.

“Are you still cold?” He teased when he finished, reaching for her waist and gently tugging her forward, and away from the doorway. She shook her head ‘no’ and smiled up at him. “Too bad,” he hummed, biting his lip. “You chose boring socks,” he pouted, then leaned down to kiss her.

She smiled against his lips. The kiss somehow felt more… warm than last night, and… well, like the birth of a star. Warmth bloomed in her chest, like a flower kissed by sunlight in the morning. It was like being reborn, like breathing the cleanest air.

“I was trying to be considerate,” she mumbled when he pulled away from her lips. He tilted his head with a confused smile, and moved her backwards, leading her back to his bed.

“Considerate?” Dean slowly lifted the shirt, his fingertips teasing her warm skin as he slid it up her body.

“Read my mind,” she whispered, throwing the clean shirt on his desk when it was around her wrists above her head.

“I don’t read minds,” he grinned down at her, pecking her lips. She hummed softly, amused just because he made her smile, and untied his robe. He humoured her anyway, staring at her as she climbed onto the bed, her soft hands moving up his torso slowly exploring, memorising, worshipping. “You… are so cute,” he teased, leaning forward to kiss her again.

She pressed her lips against his, moaning quietly against his mouth. She pushed the robe off his shoulders and he threw it over the small, sage-coloured sofa he had placed by the window that was opened to her house.

“That’s not reading my mind.” She buried her fingers in his hair and began crawling backwards, her warm tongue tracing his plump lips. He cursed softly against her mouth, kissing her back with as much force, and climbed up the bed with her.

“I told you,” he panted, lowering his body over hers once her head fell onto the pillows, “I don't read minds.” She pulled Dean down, closer to her, arms circled around his neck, legs parted for his hips to fit perfectly in between.

“I think you see through me,” she whispered, lapping at the red mark positioned on his pulse, making him moan softly. She couldn’t believe she felt insecure about it at first, but now, it was hot that he could read her, that he could figure her out in seconds. For however long he's been hunting, she had no doubt he was much more clever than he led on.

“You think wearing a pair of what might be my favourite socks will make me… sad?” He tried, barely moving away from her mouth. She snickered upon releasing how ridiculous it sounded out loud, she nodded anyway.

“I’d be upset,” she shrugged, sliding her hands down his back, his taut muscles shifting beneath her hands.

“Exactly why I said you’re cute,” he told her softly, rocking his hips against hers. She shook her head in denial, dragging her lips back up to his. His cock slid through her soaked folds, teasingly nudging her entrance, tortuously rubbing her clit. “You hungry?” He asked, leaning on one arm placed by her head.

“Dirty intent with that question?” She teased, nibbling his bottom lip. He laughed deeply, pressing his cock into her, slowly pushing in.

“Wanted to make ya breakfast,” he huffed, moaning with her when he pulled out gently and pushed back into her warmth. “So… breakfast?” His hand travelled freely down her sides, tenderly brushing against the bruises on her skin.

“Only if you’ll make me breakfast often,” she played quietly. With a husky moan, he slid his hands back up her sides, thumbing her sensitive nipples. He dropped his forehead to her shoulder, smiling at her words, the tightening of her walls around him taking him to the brink of delectable release and delirious insanity.

“Only if you’re mine,” he rasped, taking her wrist to slide his hand into hers, pressing it into the pillow, and above her head.

“Yes,” she whispered, squeezing his hand, slipping her other hand into his hair. He lifted his face to stare into her sincere gaze, brought his freehand between their bodies to rub circles on her clit.

“To breakfast or being mine?” Dean inquired, rolling his hips swiftly into her. She moaned and wrapped her legs around his waist, keeping him close, and drawing his lips closer with her hand clutching the short hair behind his head.

“Yes,” she murmured, drawing a soft laugh from him as she pressed a deep kiss to his warm lips.

➥ summer’s stellar gaze

taglist

@rominaszh @livingdeadmak @lanassmarty @murdockscumsock @zepskies @candy-coated-misery0731 @stxrgazer03 @epsilonsagittarii @lyarr24 @spnfamily-j2 @globetrotter28 @deansbbyx @lickmybawls @jackles010378 @winchstrdean @deanwinchestersgirl87 @the-achievementhunter @deanfreakingwinchester @k-slla @madzzz0797 @laylaackles @fanfic-n-tabulous @kristophalis @mrlonelycat @taylortots-world @evznackles @ohnosy @juicyballsworld

main masterlist

dean winchester masterlist

dean’s 45th birthday celebration masterlist

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

#dean’s 45th birthday celebration #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x female!reader #dean x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fanfiction

404 notes · View notes

dodgerkedavra · 5 days ago

Text

2024 fics-in-review

Doing this to impress @its-the-allure, thanks for tagging me! And what a year, am I right, LOL

December

New Heavens (3k, G)

Percy lasts six and a half years.

Go Up to Gilead (106k, E)

The Aurors are Harry’s whole world—right up until he carries Draco Malfoy out of Azkaban in his arms. Harry can’t keep both, so he’s got to choose: forfeit the world, or forfeit his soul?

Clear, Warm Light (36k, E)

Instead of going to Hogwarts for eighth-year, Harry goes to bed.

Blossom the Lovely Stars (33k, E) *finished, from 2022

After three weeks and four days of dating, Draco asks Harry to stay for the holidays. Harry agrees.

Sweet to Your Taste (6k, E)

It’s just like Draco to fall prey to the machinations of his fellow Slytherins. This time, he ends up owning a bakery.

Burn Like Fire (4k, E)

Harry comes out of the Forest dead inside. Draco’s going to bring him back to life.

November

Ye Olde Publick Indecency (3k, E)

Draco and Harry get separated for ten minutes at the Mediaeval Fayre, which demands a carnal reunion.

October

Each According to Its Kind (10k, E)

Draco has one goal: become the best Obliviator the Ministry has ever seen. Everything proceeds exactly according to plan… Until he’s assigned to deal with a SNAKE SWARM in Godric’s Hollow.

Sleep, My Love (13k, M)

Why does Minerva McGonagall always wear green?

September

The Work of His Hands (digital art, E)

It’s not the first time Harry’s got a head injury. It is the first time he loses his ability to write. Now it’s up to Harry’s brilliant and beautiful husband Draco to save the day. Bending a naked and gorgeous Harry over Draco’s desk is an unconventional Healing strategy, but the Boy Who Lived has never been a conventional wizard.

Wherever He Leads Me (11k, E)

Draco never knows when a certain someone’s stag Patronus will block his path as he’s trying to sneak out of a memorial or leap on his pelvis during yoga class.

A Line-storm Song (12k, E)

Harry holds it together for five years after the war. Well—he sort of holds it together. Then his Auror partner Pansy Parkinson says it’s going to rain.

En Passant (46k, E)

An en passant capture can only be made by another pawn, and it is only possible on the move immediately after the enemy pawn lands shoulder-to-shoulder with his opponent. Nine days before the end of Draco’s probation, a grievously injured Auror Potter crashes through the roof of the Malfoy Manor and lands in Draco’s arms. It’s Draco’s first capture of the game. Or maybe it’s the other way around.

August

Bad Cop, Good Boy (1k, E)

Five times Harry Potter is a cop, plus one time he’s still a cop. A bad one? Well, that depends entirely on the beholder.

July

Perpetual Motion, Perpetual Sound (51k, E)

Harry Potter can’t sleep.

June

The Winds Forbid (8k, T)

The third letter Petunia receives from Albus Dumbledore simply can’t be right.

See Me and Live (37k, E)

Harry and Draco are roommates. They're coworkers. They're secret boyfriends. And now they're having a baby together!?

One Warm Line (1k, E)

This pain is part of being human.

May

Love Will Abide (41k, E)

Harry and Draco survive the apocalypse. This is what happens after.

April

Stand in the Shadow of the Moon (4k, E)

Husbands Harry and Draco road trip to Maumee, Ohio to experience totality at the 8 April 2024 solar eclipse.

March

Bike Dream (27k, E)

Draco’s going to learn to ride a bike if it’s the last thing he does.

Bridal Rose (2k, E)

Harry would do anything.

The Dancing Hours (2k, E)

Harry begged. Draco couldn't say no.

A Soft, Low Strain (2k, E)

Harry can’t help that it feels so good.

February

Perennial Blooms (5k, E)

The flowers keep coming back.

I'll Find You Again (I Always Do) (15k, E)

Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter make a pact that if they’re both still single on New Year’s Day in ten years’ time, they’ll get married. It’s a long ten years.

January

Get What You Knead (7k, E)

You can't always get what you want. But if you try sometimes... You might find You—

All told, this was somewhere in the realm of 500kish ??? !! So

#drarry #harry potter #draco malfoy #my fic #draco x harry #drarry fic #drarry fics #fic roundup #all the stuff I did #last year #2024 #drarry 2024

69 notes · View notes

sixpennydame · 7 months ago

Text

Summer Promises

A one-shot for the Levi Ackerman x Fem!OC series, North Star

Read on AO3

Word count: 1.7k

Tags: fluff; post-Rumbling world; postwar!Levi feeling the healing power of nature

Author's note: While this one-shot is part of the North Star world, it can still be enjoyed without having read the series.

But the story is best enjoyed while sitting under the trees.

Levi can’t recall ever enjoying summers in Paradis. It had always been unbearably hot and humid; every shred of his uniform sticking to his body making it difficult to move. Not to mention that summer was the busiest time of year for expeditions. Riding for hours in the heat, the only time he felt a cool breeze was when he was flying through the air on ODM gear. The sound of nearby thunder from a summer storm would mingle with the footsteps of titans, and the flowers that dotted the forest ground were often splattered with the blood of his comrades.

No, he had no good memories of summer.

He’d arrived in Mursa at the peak of the season and with no knowledge of mountain summers. But the moment he’d moved into your home he saw how much you treasured it: the fresh flowers neatly displayed on the breakfast table every morning, and the basket of vegetables from the garden under your arm. You opened every window in the house to let a crosswind cool the rooms, the gossamer fabric of the curtain blowing in the wind.

He started his walk to his job at the stables in the early dawn hours, when the sun had not yet burned off the heavy dew collecting on each leaf and flower, the birds just beginning their songs. He noticed that the air was cool and crisp in the mornings and evenings here, and you’d given him a jacket when you’d seen him bristle at the chill.

You -

If people could be seasons then he’d decided you were summer. You were bright and warm, and had a bustling energy about you. He could hear you humming in your garden when you were pulling weeds, humming when you put laundry on the line to dry. Always humming, always singing…

…he didn’t mind it.

“Come ride with me,” you said one day while visiting the stables. You were brushing your horse, Astrid, and she seemed to snort in approval. “You were saying you need to ride Demon more anyway, right?”

It’s true, he needed to get the stallion out and stretch its legs.

“Ok, but just for a quick ride. I need to get back and do the rest of today’s chores,” he answered.

“Pfft, you’ve done most of them already, the rest can wait. Besides, it’s summer!”

(This was something you often said, he’d realized - when you wanted to sleep in a little longer on the weekends, when you’d eat an extra helping of strawberries with cream, when you’d stay up too late reading a book - as if summer was some magical pass to do things you don’t normally do.)

“He’s fine to leave for a few hours, right Mathieu?”

The old man smiles, the deep wrinkles around his mouth deepening. “Levi works so efficiently, I barely have anything left for him to do today.” He grabs a saddle and gives it to Levi. “Go, enjoy the summer’s day.”

Once both horses are saddled, you and he ride out of the stables and into the meadow.

“Where to?” he asks, having a feeling you’ve got something in mind.

“We’re gonna ride up into those mountains a bit.” You point to a mountain range just to the west of the stables. “I have a place to show you that I think you’re gonna love.”

You look at him with a gleam in your eye. “Wanna race to the foot of the mountain?”

He liked this competitive side of you. “You know Demon and I will beat you.”

“Not if I get a head start!”

A gentle prod to Astrid’s and you’re off in a flash. Levi smirks and pets the side of Demon’s neck.

“Time to show off a little, eh?” Levi clicks his tongue and taps Demon’s sides, just as they’d practiced over the past week. The black stallion snorts, stomping the ground before he starts his cantor. It doesn’t take long before they’re neck-in-neck with you, but he says a command and Demon goes even faster. By the time you and Astrid reach the foot of the mountain, the other two are relaxed, Demon nibbling on some blades of grass.

“What was that about beating me?” Levi smirks.

You roll your eyes before moving past him, starting up a narrow trail that leads into the trees. He follows behind, welcoming the cool shade as you ride further up. There’s a rustling in the bushes and Levi whips his head toward the sound, suddenly on alert. A deer’s head rises, seemingly unbothered by their presence.

Levi sighs. Even after all these years, it’s hard not to think that any movement in a forest is a possible threat. He keeps his eyes on your back as you ascend, the trail too narrow for you to ride side by side. But it’s a well worn trail, Levi notices; whether it was you or someone else that created it, it’s been used often. You don’t speak a word the entire trek until suddenly the ground evens out and you stop.

“Here we are,” you declare in a sing-song voice, “my little hideaway.”

The dense foliage of the pine and elm trees has given way to a small clearing dotted with white and blue flowers, their petals open towards the sun as if greeting its warmth. It was almost perfectly circular, like it was cleared of trees and specifically made.

“Martin and I would come here when we were kids.” You step into the clearing. “We thought fairies made this place - it’s always felt so magical.”

“Fairies?”

“Magical beings that live in the forest.” Levi looks at you, perplexed. “There aren’t forest spirits where you’re from?”

“Not that I’m aware of. But there were plenty of things that wanted to kill us,” he replies.

“Fairies can be mischievous, but they’re usually kind and benevolent. Especially if you give them a gift.”

You take out a peach and a small bottle from your saddle bag and place it under a large tree next to the clearing. “They particularly like wine and fruit.”

“Who doesn’t,” Levi says, slightly to mock but he must admit, his interest has peaked. “Now what happens? Do they jump out of the trees or something?”

“No! That’s silly,” you answer. Your eyes shine as you take his arm and pull him into the center of the clearing. “I know you don’t believe in any of this stuff, but..”

You sit down, pulling him down with you. “...you’ll see, there’s something special about this place.”

Before Levi can respond, you’re lying down in the grass, your face towards the sky, just like the flowers around you. “Just lay down. Close your eyes. Listen.”

There’s something about the calm and confident way you voice those three commands, and the next thing he knows, he’s lying beside you, his arms crossed against his chest.

One final sigh of resignation, and he closes his eyes. He waits a few seconds, wondering if something will happen, and laughing at himself internally for even entertaining these kinds of foolish thoughts.

But then his breathing steadies, and he notices that it’s in rhythm with the breeze blowing through the trees around him: an in and out, as if the trees are also breathing.

He feels a tiny insect - probably an ant - walking across his hand, the tall grass brushing against his body.

He smells the scent of pine in the air, sweet and woody.

He hears the bird song around him - the same melody he hears every day, but now, he notices every note. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

There’s another sound - a voice in the air, but it’s not yours.

“Rest..” it says..

…

Levi opens his eyes to the sound of you humming in the distance. He sits up, blinking a few times to adjust to the changing lighting.

“You felt it, didn’t you?”

You’re picking some flowers next to a tree, twisting their stems into a flower crown.

He rubs the back of his neck before standing up and wipes off the grass from his pants. “How long was I out?”

“Oh, for about an hour. I didn’t want to wake you, you looked so peaceful.”

Levi walks over to the tree you’re sitting under and leans against the trunk. You look up and smile at him.

“The fairies tend to give us what we need most. Apparently, you needed rest.”

Levi does a mental scan of his body. He does feel rested, more than he has in a long time. His muscles are relaxed, and even his knee isn’t aching as much. He’s never been a superstitious person - he believes what his eyes and other senses tell him - but he has to admit, there is something special about this place.

He wants to ask you what you were given during your time in the clearing, and what you need most. And why you brought him, of all people,here.

Instead, he looks away, his face apathetic. “Yeah, well, an afternoon nap is never a bad idea.” He glances down to see you smiling at him. “What?” he asks defensively.

You smile so sweetly at him, he feels a slight heat to his cheeks.

“Oh…nothing…nothing,” you reply, standing up as you hold the flower crown. “Thanks for coming with me today.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Would you…come here again with me some time?’

He can feel the blush growing across his face now and he turns away, walking towards Demon, who’s grazing nearby. “Sure.”

“Promise?”

He looks back at you to see that you’ve now put the crown upon your head. The breeze blows some of your hair across your face, and he almost reaches out to push the strands behind your ear, but you beat him to it. Of all people, why would you want to spend time with him? You'd only just met him a little over a month ago. And what is it about you that makes him want to say yes to whatever you ask?

He can’t explain what it is about this place that makes it feel so special. Maybe it’s some natural phenomenon, maybe it is fairies.

Or maybe it’s just you.

He reaches out and straightens the crown on your head.

“I promise.”

Join my taglist!

@humanitys-strongest-bamf @thalia-prior-of-ravenclaw @ackermendick @mintandginger @hvziers @vxlentine888 @mrsackermannx @youre-ackermine @leviismybby @littlerequiem @searriously @nube55 @darkstarlight82 @vanessaliliana1 @sea-after-a-storm @levilxvr @l3visthighs @notgoodforlife @bitchymanlet @wingedtalewombat @ackerlancio @humanitys-strongest-brat @urbandeity @kikarou @heyitd1yaa @sorenflyinn @aomi-blue @ackermanswifee @amywritesthings @dont-f-with-moogles

*I've lost my spreadsheet with all my organized lists for tags, so if I missed you, please let me know!

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x female reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi fluff #levi ackerman fluff #sixpennydame north star series #north star series #aot fanfiction #attack on titan fanfiction #postwar!levi

156 notes · View notes

towriteloveontheirarms · 10 months ago

Text

My little winter rose (Aemond Targaryen x Little red riding hood!Reader)

synopsis: On your way to visit your grandmother, you meet a handsome stranger that points you towards some lovely flowers. Little do you know what else that aquaintance holds in store for you...

warnings: slight dubcon, p in v sex, mention of severed body parts, afab reader

word count: 2.3k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall @urmomsgirlfriend1

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

A/N: Thank you to the wonderful @slytherincursebreaker for requesting this piece. I hope you like it as much as I loved writing it!<3

Dividers by @valeskafics

For as long as you were old enough to roam around Winterfell and the surrounding woods, you heard the same thing every time. "Beware of the one-eyed beast in the woods" or some form of that sentence. You knew it by heart, saying it along every time it was spoken. Yet you had never seen a beast, no matter how often you wandered through the trees you called your second home. However, it also led to you becoming less watchful every time, thus not noticing how the so proclaimed one eyed beast very much saw you. Grew taller as you did with age until he towered over you easily, his mind darkening with thoughts as yours brightened with entirely different ideas. Going unnoticed day after day after day. Another institution set in place that you remember ever since you could think was a group of hunters going out every night. Their torches burning like the fear in their hearts, sharp swords, spears and weapons of any kind held close to their bodies that would always return marred. Sometimes you would hear rumours that people that died at an earlier date were taken by the beast while hunting for it alone.

You understood all of it, though that didn't mean you liked it. The sight of the hunters was one you hated. It was a surprise that with their viciousness the "beast didn't las out more or come closer to the village. Not even all the understanding of the human mind in the world could have saved you from hating the head of the hunters with a passion that burned even brighter than any fire ever could. Howland Reed and his relentless pursuit of trying to win over your affection by bragging about hunts long over and how well equipped he was to hunt the one-eyed.

"Red! Where are you off to?" He yells from a distance to stop you, as he trots over to you. Cursing him out in your mind in return, you oblige and wait for him to catch up with you, putting a smile on your face as you did so. Even the nickname everyone called you due to the red cloak you wore at every given time, sounded so gross from his lips you wanted to puke. "Oh, I am merely off for a visit to my grandmother." You chirp in the politest tone you could muster.

“Well, how lucky I must be to catch you then? You see, I just had some modifications done to keep you safe better.” He presents you with one of his hands and you see exactly what modifications he talked about. His nails had been filed into sharp points and seemingly coated with silver to harden them, just like claws. The pride in his face makes it hard for the polit mask to stay on yours.

“Say, Howland.” You take a deep breath in to keep it together as you speak. “I have been wondering something lately. Mayhaps you will be able to answer the question.”

“Ask me anything you wish and rest assured that the smartest man around will surely give you an answer.” He makes it so hard not to throw up right then and there.

“You are too kind. Now my question is, if you are as smart and strong and skilled in hunting as you proclaim… How come that one-eyed beast has not been slain yet?” You don´t stay to hear his answer, instead you hide a giggle behind your hand and go off on your merry way.

With the light of the early afternoon sun in the sky you have little concerns or cares about the safety of the forest. Humming the sweet tune of a song that you had often sung with your grandmother when you were younger, you skip along the way.

The deeper you get into the wood, the colder it gets and so, while you wrap yourself tighter into the red cloak, you almost run into what you at first think is a tree. As it turns out it is another human, a man and a tall one at that. His silver hair reaches down to the middle of his back, covering one of his eyes and the other you are sure shone in a pretty lavender hue once. If it did it had since dulled to a darker tone. The creases in the pale skin on his face speak volumes on how hard his life must have been. Yet when he looks down to meet your eyes, there is a charming smile set in place.

“My apologies, ser. I should have watched my steps.” You apologize before he even opens his mouth, looking up at him with the most innocent eyes he had ever seen.

“Oh no, by all means, I am the one that has to apologise. You are not the only one that should have watched where they were going.” The beautiful stranger replies in a velvety smooth voice.

"Please, I insist. If I would have stopped for a moment, I would not have run into you." You reiterate. "Alright." The stranger lifts his hands in mock surrender. "May I ask where a young maiden like you is headed? All alone in these big woods." "Well, for one I am not alone. Clearly." You go to answer with a waggish smile. His grin widens in response and his voice deepens for a moment as he speaks. "I would not be so sure that is such a good thing." His words hold a sense of warning that you swiftly ignore to tell him where you were going. "I am on my way to see my dear grandmother. She lives not far from here."

"My, what a sweet girl you are. Your grandmother can count herself lucky to have you." You hadn't even noticed so far, but when he continued speaking his voice registers almost right beside your ear. "If you want to bring her some flowers, the winter roses are blooming beautifully not too far from here in that direction."

You follow his finger with your eyes, to see that it isn't that much of a detour.

"I will be going right away. Thank you, kind stranger." You turn your head back to him.

"Oh no, I have to thank you." He murmurs. “And you may call me Aemond.”

“Aemond…” you test the way the blonds name rolls off your tongue and then let your smile widen as you give him your name.

You happily skip along the way, giving him no chance for further conversations as you only turn once more to wave him farewell.

While you busy yourself with making the most beautiful bouquet of winter roses and greenery, Aemond goes off with a new plan in mind to finally get you.

The task takes you longer than you would have thought and so the sun stands high in the sky when you continue the way to your grandmother's house. It begins to grow dark when you arrive at the small house in the middle of the woods, so it is no wonder you find your grandmother asleep in her bed.

Gently you shake her awake by the arm. “Grandmother, are you well? I came to visit you." "My sweet girl, is it really you?" The old woman's voice sounds different than normal, though you can't quite put your fingers on the exact way it does. "It is. I brought you some flowers and a cake I baked." You set down the flowers in a vase on the bed side table and sit on the edge of the mattress beside her. "Oh, you are so good to me. Come, lay down. You came all this way and I could not possibly send you home in the darkness." Without any questions you obey her, pulling off the cape and dress until you are only left in your small clothes. Through the thin fabric the cold air makes your nipples harden and so you hurry to climb underneath the blanket.

Once in bed, you notice the long scar over the left side of her face, with the eye seemingly missing entirely. “Grandmother, what happened to your eye?” The words come out dripping with uncertainty.

“Bad men took it, but you need not worry about it. They are not able to hurt anyone anymore now.” The answer does little to quell the questions on your mind.

"My, what big hands you have, Grandmother?" You continue questioning.

"All the better to hug you." Comes the quick explanation.

"And what sharp teeth you have..." Your skin begins to prickle and the air becomes harder to breathe. Something in the way your grandmother pauses before answering, makes the hair on your neck stand up. Too late to react, as you get pinned to the mattress with surprising strength.

"All the better to eat you!" With a swoosh the blanket and who you thought was your grandmother's clothes get ripped away, to reveal Aemond sitting on top of you.

He grabs your shift and easily rips the fabric off your body, leaving you gasping, wide eyed and unable to cover yourself as he still pins your wrists above your head with one if his large, strong hands.

The cold air, that streams in through the cracks in the window frame, has your nipples harden even further, until they stand painfully against the heat of your admirers’ chest. Instinctively you lean further into him to catch more of his warmth. Aemonds hard cock presses between your folds, twitching against your entrance, to collect some of the juices that flowed between your thighs.

“Will you be a good girl if I let you go now?” He growls lowly into your ear, eliciting a quiet but eager nod from you.

Slowly the pressure around your wrists vanishes to come down to hold you by the hips. Aemond leans down to capture your lips with his. The slow, but nonetheless passionate nipping at each other’s mouths gives the perfect way for him to express every last bit of longing and yearning that had coursed through the blond’s body ever since he first laid his eye on you. The kiss deflects your attention from the way Aemond rubs his erection against your dripping centre until he has buried himself entirely in it. His tip nearly kisses your cervix and the way your cunt adjusts to his form makes your entire nervous system burst into flames. The flames lick only higher as Aemond absolutely ravages you, rutting into you with inhumane pace and without abandon. It seems he fucks deeper into your tight channel with every thrust, that is accompanied by breathily whispered praise of how long he had waited for this moment and how well you took him. Every once in a while, when a pained whimper leaves your lungs, he kisses your forehead, rubs a few circles with his thumbs into your hipbone and shushes you in the most loving tone anyone had ever used on you beside your family. Yet Aemond doesn´t slow down. Not until you are first to reach your peak and he had made sure to shoot his seed so deep into your core it was sure to take.

Aemond slides out of your sensitive cunt and sits back to catch his breath.

“Are you alright?” he inquires short of breath.

“I am. Perhaps I will be a bit sore for the next few days.” You jested back with a raw voice.

“Ah, my apologies. I simply found myself unable to hold back any longer. I have been watching you for so long, my little winter rose. Imagining how it would be to touch you, to claim you, to finally take you as my wife in the face of the seven…” The one-eyed man sheepishly rubs his neck as he confesses to his desires.

Desires that make your face feel like it is on fire once more and your brain is entirely empty. “Is that the truth?”

“I could never lie to you about the graveness of my affections towards you.” Gently, Aemond takes one of your hands into his and presses a kiss to the palm of it.

“Oh, Aemond…” You melt at the show of affection. “I wished nothing more than to be able to be with you for the rest of our days, but I fear it is not possible. For my parents have already promised me to another.”

“Worry not. I have already taken care of that.” The blond stands up to offer his solution to the issue. A severed hand lands between your legs on the bed.

You gasp and raise your eyebrows, but before any question can claw its way out of your lungs, the sharpened silver nails catch your attention. It was Howlands hand that lay there presented to you as if it was a trophy. However, it does not disturb you. On the contrary, it makes you feel strangely appreciated, that someone would go so far as to secure you being with them.

“How dare that son of a whore go after my wife.” Aemond growls and his forehead lays into deep creases.

Careful not to kick around the severed body part, you stand up as well now, stalking over to Aemond on mildly trembling legs. When you reach him one hand goes to his shoulder for stability and the other rises to his face to run the thumb over the space between his eyebrows until it is even again.

“There is no reason to get angry about him anymore. My heart never belonged to him, but it will forever belong to you.” The two of you share one more kiss. This one much more slow, but just as emotional, to seal your future together.

#aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fic #house of the dragon fic #hotd x reader #hotd x you #fairytale au #little red riding hood au

373 notes · View notes

artists-ally · 1 year ago

Text

{Only Me and the Devil Know} Reader x Azriel

Picture credit

So. I have no real explanation for this other than I was ready this AMAZING fic and it sparked an idea. That’s it. That all I can say. I’m already blushing. Blow up my inbox, comments, and dm's with your thoughts! Enjoy <3 Title from this song. (Ps. Thank you for all the support on the teaser????? You guys are insane I love you all so much)

Word Count: 12,169 (HOLY SHIT)

Warnings: SMUT. like seriously, this is nasty. Pre-established relationship and consent, CNC, dom/sub, role play (predator and prey), pet names (dove!reader and master!Azriel), breath play, overstimulation and forced orgasms, bondage, spanking, oral (m&f), breeding kink, degrading, humiliation, masochism, stalking, biting, minor blood.

Summary: Azriel has had this fantasy of you that he's been terrified to ask you to partake in. After explaining and agreeing, fear and desire blur together in a terrifying game of predator vs. prey.

Tagging: @librafairy @needylilgal022 @bunnymallowo

~~~~~

The tip of the sun caressed my skin through the window, gently waking me from whatever dream I had been having. My shoulder ached from having slept on it a little weird, and my eyes were bleary.

I wandered to the kitchen that overlooked the hills, boiling some water for some tea. When I looked around the room, I felt this sense of pride for how far I’ve come in this little city. Everything was as it should be.

After breakfast, I changed for the day. The familiar worn in overalls slipped on, tucking the ends into my boots. I threw on a long sleeve shirt, the beginning of fall nipping through the window. While it was nice to have a change of seasons, it made me sad to have to say goodbye to some of the flowers and vegetation of the summer.

I packed a lunch and headed out, locking the door behind me. The walk this early in the morning was always therapeutic; chirping birds and herd of deer along the edges of the forest across the meadow. The dirt and stones crunched under my feet as I walked down the self-forged path to my shop on the corner.

I pulled the sign from my little alley and set it up to display the new deals and sales. On my door was a folded piece of paper with my name in some of the most incredible font I’ve ever seen.

“Oh my sweet little dove, you look so precious in that outfit of yours. With your hair braided down your head. You don’t even know my name and yet I scream yours every night. Don’t worry, I already know everything about you.”

My heart dropped. I whirled around and looked down the street. The sun hadn’t even come up yet, so maybe whoever left it was still out there. No one. No one was around besides me. The breeze rustles my wind chimes, making it feel even more eerie.

What the fuck?

I read it over again, not recognizing the handwriting. I quickly unlock the door and lock it behind me. I quietly step through the shop, checking if there’s anyone inside. Maybe I shouldn’t have locked myself in here.

No one was inside, and I blew a sigh of relief. With my head on a constant swivel, I went about my day, checking every corner of every room I went in. A friend of mine, Cece, stopped by in the afternoon. She clearly noticed the wariness in my eyes.

“Someone just left it on your door? Yn, why don’t you report it?” She asked, disgust written in her eyebrows as she looked at it again and again.

“Well, who would I report it to?” I shrugged.

“Hmm, let me think. Oh, I don’t know, maybe our High Lord?” I rolled my eyes at her sarcasm. “Yn, it’s not safe! Someone is obviously stalking you.”

“I’m fine.” I lied. I was a wreck. A complete boneless, nervous wreck. Cece knew.

“Yn-”

“I can handle myself,” I shook my head. “If I need to, I have a dagger under the cash register.”

“Yeah because that’ll stop a full grown male,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m just worried, Yn. I don’t wanna have anything happen to you. Especially when we can prevent it.”

“I will be alright, don’t worry about me,” I waved off. “If I feel unsafe I’ll let you know. And Damien is right next door, surely he’ll be able to help if something goes wrong.”

With a sharp inhale, and an obvious disagreeing tone, she left it alone. I didn’t feel unsafe here, and it was the middle of the day. Who would attack someone in the middle of the day? In public nonetheless.

____

There wasn’t a note on the door the next day, thank the Cauldron, and I began planning for the town’s annual solstice celebration. It was still a few months away, but I had to preserve some flowers for the winter in order to make holiday arrangements.

I designed and sketched wreaths, garlands and some other things to be put into production. Having to hand make all of them was a pain, and I usually hired some more help to get things done a lot faster.

It was a rare slow day, and I enjoyed the peace and quiet. I watered and swept, wiping down tables and shelves. I couldn’t shake this feeling no matter how hard I tried. I felt like I was being watched. And there was this chill in the air. Inside my shop, which always remained in the seventies for the plants.

But it was cold. I checked the thermostat, and it was still where it needed to be. Why did it feel so fucking cold?

Maybe It was just me, and I was getting a little sick.

Whatever it was, it followed me all the way home. I knew my eyes were playing tricks on me. I kept seeing things in the shadows move, but whenever I got closer, nothing was there. Yup, definitely being paranoid now.

The next morning was the same; no note, but this agonizing feeling that I was being watched no matter where I was. I was still cold and could do nothing to warm up. I helped an older female find something for her granddaughter who had a music recital tonight. When I looked across the counter at her, there was nothing but my counter– and the flowers and her purse. But I dropped one of the coins and I bent to pick it up.

There was a note on the counter. With my name. In the same handwriting as before.

My throat closed, fingers tingling with panic. I quickly helped the lady along and stared at the piece of paper. Where the fuck did it come from. It was literally there in a second. What the actually fuck is going on?

“My dove, you know it’s rude to not write back. I don’t take kindly to indecency. But you won’t be able to avoid me forever. Rest up, dove. You’ll need it.”

Need it for what? My heart thundered against my ribs. Surely I should report this, but… but I didn’t want to. I don’t know why I didn’t want to, but I didn’t. It was probably just some kid trying to scare me. I kept telling myself that, but it hardly worked when I left, constantly checking over my shoulder.

I needed to head down the street to grab something for dinner. On the corner of the road was a group of people chatting loudly, a couple walking in front of me. There were people around. Good.

The Serpentine Supply was the only grocery store open this late. I made my way through the isles and plucked whatever looked good off the shelves. I could surely make… something with all of this.

When I headed out, there was no group on the corner. No couple walking in front of me. No crickets or last minute birds tucking themselves in for the night.

A silhouette was the only thing I saw. Tall, so tall, and muscular. A creeping shadow behind the figure, and as it moved, it revealed wings. So enormous they touched the ground despite his height.

I could almost recognize the face, but it looked vague. Like I had seen it before, but couldn’t recall where. Surely I’d remember a face that beautiful. Clearly High Fae. He shouldered off the wall, eyes set on me. I fled, almost dropping my bag, bolting in the opposite direction towards my home.

I heaved as I fell against the inside of my door. Curling my legs up, I listened for footsteps until I remembered the male had wings. Wings.

Fear coursed through me and I went to the safe under the cabinet in my room. I twisted the dial and plucked the dagger in my palm. I couldn’t breathe, let alone eat, so I sat at my kitchen table and waited to see if he would try to follow me in.

It could’ve just been a random male, I told myself. And it was probably more likely.

But what if that was- no. I can’t terrorize myself like that. This is all coincidental and I’m blowing all of this out of proportion. There is no reason someone would want to hurt me. But then again sometimes you don’t have to do something to have people want you-

Nope. Not going there.

_____

With basket in tow, I walked up the hillside to my personal field. Rows of still-in-season flowers greeted me as I rounded the crest. I lifted up my skirt and bent down, plucking the last of the summer blooms to be stored for the winter.

I was so happy when I discovered the preservation technique last Solstice so everyone could enjoy these beautiful flowers year round. I laid them all in the same direction, careful to not destroy the delicate petals.

It was actually a nice day, and the sun was warm despite a cooler breeze. The sundress I had put on was one I’ve worn a thousand times, the hemp dulled and frayed from years of wear and play in the dirt picking flowers and gardening. It was lightweight and easy to maneuver in. My feet were bare. No real need for shoes out here. I liked feeling the dirt between my toes anyway, shoes just got in the way and made my feet sweat.

I picked up a dahlia and laid it in the basket, reaching for another before I shrieked.

A dark tendril of something circled around it, through the petals and drenching it in darkness. I launched back away from it, hands breaking my fall.

“My dove, don’t you look pretty today,” a voice crept down my spine. I had only then realized I backed up into something solid. I scrambled, staring up at the figure. I had to shield my eyes from the sun, but a winged silhouette blocked it a second later.

Oh shit.

My brain fogged and words were long forgotten.

“It’s okay, dove. Don’t be afraid,” he spoke. His mouth curled into a feline smile when he took a step towards me, and I scooted back. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Oh, my pretty prey, don’t you see? You can’t run. You’re all alone out here, aren’t you?”

I shouldn’t answer, I can’t let him know that I’m all alone.

“N-No,” I stuttered, breathless and boneless. “No, I am not alone.”

“Don’t lie to me,” his tone sent a ripple down my back. “Even if you weren’t alone, there’d be nothing anyone could do.”

Fear prowled through me, and I think he could sense that. I anchored myself to the ground, prepared to bolt at any second and try to put as much distance as I could. Would it be useless? Probably. Would I go down with a fight? Absolutely. I’d kick and scream and-

“It’s so adorable to watch you think you have a chance,” he tilted his head, bending down over me. I took in those wings, that sharp jaw and even sharper eyes. His skin was flushed with a fine layer of sweat, and he smelled like an inferno.

My core tightened. My fingers and toes were numb with dread.

“Such a shame. A pretty thing like you shouldn’t ever be left alone. Someone could just come right up to you and take you as their own.” “I told you I’m not alone,” I bit out.

He chuckled. Void of any real amusement and full of predatory hunger. “It’s okay, dove. I only want to take you for a little while, show you all the things that delicate body does to me. Only when I am satisfied will I give you back.”

A sob shuddered through me as he gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. “P-Please don’t- please don’t hurt me-”

“Oh, I will. But it will feel so good for you. You’re going to cry. And beg. And scream. All for me. You’ll realize that no other male will be able to make you feel the things I can make you.” His voice was of the smoothest silk, but the words were so wrong. So repulsing. It certainly didn’t help when he looked so striking.

I swallowed, nothing going down. I shook with nothing but fear when his hand traveled down my chin, to my neck. He gripped, not cutting off air, but firm enough I knew I was fucked. I couldn’t move, I was paralyzed by his eyes.

This was it. This was going to happen.

I have to try and run. I have to try. I looked up and down his body, at his midsection crouched over my legs. I kicked up as hard as I could, sending him to the ground with a groan. I scrambled, as fast as I could, to my suddenly limp feet and ran. I sprinted into the woods, not daring to look back to see if he was following. I knew he was following.

My chest burned with the need for oxygen. I zig-zaged through the trees, stepping on branches and sharp stones. When I screamed, nothing came out. My voice was dead in my throat and I couldn’t scream. It felt like I was in a nightmare. Where all laws of physics are wiped away for the sake of terror.

How far I ran I didn’t know, but I couldn’t see my meadow from wherever I was. Who knew what was in these woods? I slowed my pace a little to catch my breath. I walked– more like jogging– through the thick brush. Thorns and bugs tore up my arms and legs.

Great. Now the sun was going down. Normally a Velaris sunset would put a beaming smile on my face. Right now? It only filled me with worry.

The soles of my feet were cut and filled with dirt. My trembling had slowed, but every new snap of a twig had it tumbling back into me. I kept my gaze on the vegetation in front of me, careful not to step on too many branches. The last thing I needed was to send a ripple of sound to what/whoever was after me.

I smacked face first into a tree. So hard my vision danced away from me. The back of my head hit the forest floor and I groaned, hugging it close to my chest. As I rolled onto my shoulder, I was forced onto my stomach. My voice filled me when I saw the scarred hand, belonging to the male I thought I left in the field.

“Where are you going, my prey? You think you can outrun a predator like me? Aww, my dove. You should know I love the chase, to see the fear in your eyes. Fear is one of our most primal instincts, fleeing only makes me want to hunt.”

He was heavy on top of me, hand fisting in my hair to force me up. I tried to fight against it, but I couldn’t move.

“Run again and I will have no choice but to hurt you. Though I bet you’d beg me to keep going.”

In a second, that same tendril-like shadow surrounded us. It filled every pore of my skin, every hole in my body. I felt like I was suffocating. That I was choking and couldn’t do anything to clear the obstruction. My eyes watered and I shrieked in my head.

As fast as it was there, it was gone. I sucked in breaths, coughing up the saliva that was trapped in my throat. When I opened my eyes, I had no idea where I was. The cold, smooth concrete under my palms and knees was no indicator. There was no light except a singular bulb overhead. There was a table in the middle bound with leather, and a wall lined with different weapons and tools.

“Have no fear, dove. I won’t be using all of them on you today,” the voice echoed, and I spun around, trying to find it. He was nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Panicking, I ran towards one wall, hoping to find a door. I pounded at it with everything I had, nothing giving away.

It was solid stone.

“Please let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone about this,” I pleaded, sinking into the farthest corner. “Please I won’t-”

“I know you won’t, my dove,” the male emerged from the shadows. “But I don’t care.” Tears rolled down my cheeks. “I don’t want this. Please, sir-”

“Master.” his voice boomed into the room. “Call me anything other than master and there will be consequences.”

I cowered against the wall, legs tucked up under myself. Maybe if I appease him then… “Please master I-”

“Would you look at that,” he grinned. A feral grin with a promise to bring pain. “My dove knows how to take orders. So good to know you have a desire deep down to please and cooperate.”

“I don’t want this.”

“I know you don’t, and that’s what makes me want you more, dove,” he knelt down in front of me again, tucking away some of the hairs in my face. Under any other circumstance, I’d find the movement comforting, reassuring maybe. This? This was haunting. Make-your-stomach-blanche haunting.

“What do you want from me?” I asked, daring a look in his green eyes. In another setting, I’d find them beautiful. But not this one.

“I’ve already told you. I will return you when I am satisfied,” the male flashed his white teeth. “Get up.”

He yanked me by my bicep and hurtled me out of the corner. My feet stumbled and he kept me upright, dragging me to the table. My lower back aches when I crash into it, but the table didn’t move. I gripped the edge for dear life while my eyes stayed locked on my captor.

My heart begged me to find safety. But there wasn’t a door, not a window in this chamber.

“Where am I?”

“Far from anything, if that’s what you’re asking. I’ll take care of you, my dove. I won’t be kind, but I don’t want to kill you.”

Was it comforting? Sort of. Not really. No, it wasn’t comforting in any way. This male, this winged male, was going to do whatever he wanted. I’m at his mercy. His to play with, to decide what to do with, and I had no say in the process or the outcome.

He turned to face me after looking at the wall of tools and things. “Oh dove, why didn’t you say you were needy?”

I blinked at him, shifting on my feet. “I’m not needy. I just want to be let go.”

“You think I can’t smell the sweet scent between those legs of yours?” His gaze darkened, traveling up and down my trembling body. “I bet if I touched you you’d arch into me, wouldn’t you? You're all messy and ready for me, aren’t you?”

I shook my head, biting my lip. His massive hand wrapped around my throat, pulling me inches from his face. He ducked his head down, planting a kiss right below my ear. I shivered. No no no no no this was not about to happen.

His teeth nipped my ear and he exhaled, sending uninvited goosebumps across my arms and legs.

“Despite your best efforts,” he whispered, breath skimming me ignited skin. “You are arching into me. You want me to touch you, don’t you?”

I couldn’t move my head with his grip, which only tightened when I didn’t come up with a response quick enough. “No, no I don’t want you to touch me.”

“Pity,” he said. “Your body says otherwise. Even though I frighten you, have you at my will, you find it thrilling, little dove. Aww, see? You’re so hungry for my touch, my mouth, that you can’t even stay still. I know my dove needs it, she’s such a slut already and I haven’t even done anything.”

Impossible. It was impossible not to writhe at his words. Heat flooded my body in a moment. No, don’t want this. This is wrong. This is so fucking wrong.

He let out a cruel laugh, the vibrations prickling my skin. He manipulated my head where he wanted, pressing his mouth up my neck, across my collarbones. My eyes lulled shut, unintentionally letting my head fall back.

“Good girl, my dove.”

I gasped as his teeth grazed right where my vein pulsed under my skin. His hand roughly grabbed my hips and lifted me onto the table. They forced my knees apart and he stepped into the space. I whimpered.

“So vocal,” his voice was criminally sleek. “Be as loud as you want dove, no one can hear you scream.”

Again, not comforting.

“W-What are you going to do to me?” My voice bobbled, especially when he pulled off my body and stared at me.

“Ask me one more time and I will make you regret it.” There was no room for negotiation in his voice. “But, since you are such a curious little whore, I guess we can get started.”

The world whirled around me as he forced me chest down. I hung over the edge, blood rushing to my face. His hands grabbed the neckline of my dress and ripped it down the zipper. The bitterness of the dark room chilled me to my core.

A single one of his fingers felt its way down my spine. I kicked out, wiggling away from his fine touch. That finger left my back and came down hard on my ass. A scream tore through my body. The sting boomed across my skin, definitely leaving a raised welt in the shape of his hand.

“Keep still.” He ordered. I panted with the force of that smack. “I mean it dove, I don’t want to hurt you… too bad anyway.”

I tried to hold still as his hands explored my body. They were firm which helped. I could predict the patterns of his hands and the tension slowly slipped from my body. I relaxed a shoulder down to the table, then let my legs dangle.

“See? You’re already growing accustomed to my touch. Such a good little girl, my dove. I will reward you, you can keep pretending you don’t crave me as much as I crave you.”

My body was betraying me. I have this type of reaction. It was wrong. On so many levels.

But my goodness was he a stunning male.

Why I relaxed as he lifted the hem of my skirt up, I couldn’t ever say. But I was more embarrassed when he cooed at me, a soft, almost sweet noise coming from deep in his chest.

“Aww,” he sighed. “Nothing under this? All prepped and ready for me, dove? I should have known how much of a whore you’d be for more. So kind of you to make it so easy for me to use you. To have my unwavering way.”

“Master I- please don’t do this to me-”

“And would you look at that?” He palmed my ass apart. “You are a soaking wet mess. I am two for two, I wonder what else I am right about. I think you’ll like it when I touch you, so much you’ll come apart just after a few strokes. I think I can get you to cum on my cock as many times as I want, until you’re an incoherent, slobbering mess. What do you think, dove? If you agree I’ll make you feel sooo good.”

I was quivering. Fuck, he had been right. And I felt so ashamed about it. Nothing about this should be arousing, and yet, he was completely right. Cauldron boil me for this.

I nodded. Despite all the bells and whistles telling me to fight and keep going. I nodded.

“I knew you’d come around,” I could hear the sinister smile in his voice. “Get up, dove.”

Slowly, I lowered my feet to the ground and turned to face him. He reached around me and pressed a switch on the table. It began to move, angling itself on a slant. A panel came out at the bottom and the male flipped it up. “Step.”

Uh oh.

With a wary look at him, I stepped onto the small metal platform barely big enough to place my feet on. I face him, the dress barely clinging to my body. He grabbed one of my wrists and forced it over my head. A cuff of leather latched around it.

When I tried to yank it away, his free hand wound around my throat, cutting off all oxygen. I gargled, going slack in his grip.

“I told you if you tried to get away, I’d have to hurt you,” he shook his head. “My prey hasn’t learned her lesson.”

My eyes widened as he grabbed something off the wall behind me. The second he rounded to where I could see him, my heart blazed in my chest. There was a small sword in his hand and he spined it between his fingers aimlessly.

With two light-blurring moves of his arm, he cut off the sleeves to my dress and it pooled around my feet. I don’t know when I closed my eyes, but then they were open, staring down at my now naked body. “Defy my order again and I’ll cut you, do you understand?” I nodded vigorously.

I still had one hand free, and I used it to try and cover myself. The male watched me twist and turn under his stare.

“Looks like I still have something to take care of,” he looked at the hand that was shielding the space between my thighs. Within a minute, he had gained control of my hand and I was tied up. Completely naked and exposed to him. “Much better.”

I didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know what to say. So I stayed quiet. I just watched his every move.

“What to do with you first,” he tapped his chin. “I should punish you for trying to get away from me again. But I think I just want to play with you a little bit more.”

He pressed another button, and the table tilted back so it wasn’t such a steep incline. My arms were already feeling strained as I tugged at the cuffs around my wrists. Most of my weight fell on my back, but gods my arms ached already.

This was it. Nothing I can do to stop this. Fear and dread and every other emotion bubbled up and out, sobs wracking through my chest.

“Don’t be afraid my dove,” his voice was anything but soothing as he dragged his fingers down my cheek. “I will make you feel so many good things. See? I only want to ruin you for anyone other than me. That’s it, my prey.”

His hand pinned my leg to the table, basically covering the entire thigh with his hand. He was so big. From his hands to his wings, even his shoulders were massive and otherworldly. A finger brushed up the crease of my hip, dipping into the mess on my skin. I jolted when he slid that finger between the tops of my thighs.

It was so light, so gentle in comparison to how he’s been. With a shaky breath, my eyes fluttered shut as I let him touch me.

“So soft, dove,” he praised. “Let's see how you taste. I hope it’s as sweet as those flowers of yours smell.” He let his tongue curl out and around the pad of his middle finger, eyes locked on mine. With a hum of approval, he grinned. “My dear dove, you taste so wonderful. I am going to undo you so many times so I can taste you over and over again. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Yeah I know you do. Don’t worry, I will make you, whether you want to or not.”

Chills spread down my back and I arched off the table when he stuck two fingers inside me. It didn’t hurt, but it didn’t feel great. Not until his thumb brushed over my clit, making me jump viscously.

“Tell me what you want, dove.”

I had to calm the inferno in my mind before I could speak. “Just- please…”

“Please what? Use those words of yours, slut. Or are you already too fucked out to form sentences?” That wicked mouth of his didn’t make it any easier.

“I want… more,” it came out a whisper. So tentative and meek I wasn’t sure if I had said it out loud.

“You want more, my prey?” I nodded. He let out a soul crippling laugh. “Just remember, you asked for this.”

His fingers picked up, and his mouth latched onto my breast. Teeth bit into the skin, and I knew it was the first mark of many to come. There was nothing to do except take what he was giving me. And right now, it didn’t feel bad. Pleasure ripped through with another brush of his thumb and my core tightened.

Sweat pricked my skin, my hair itching the back of my neck. I was so hyper aware of everything going on with my body it was impossible to focus on anything else other than that it started to feel good. Fuck. I was giving in. I need to resist. This was- this was wrong. And yet I was… I was enjoying it? He had to have drugged me or- or cast some sort of spell to make me react to his touch. I couldn’t find any of this desirable, could I?

“Would you like to cum, dove?” He stilled his hands, but my hips kept moving. “Are you that desperate? That you’re fucking yourself on my fingers?”

I stopped immediately. My mouth gaped open and closed for a response, but nothing came.

Two heartbeats later he shoved his fingers in so deep I pulled on the chains so hard I began to lift myself away from his touch. He pinned my thigh back to the table and circled my clit, drawing noises from me I so desperately wanted to keep inside.

There wasn’t anything I could do to convince him that I was repulsed by this. Because he and I both knew that I was into it. Problematically into all of this. I didn’t want to admit it to myself. I couldn’t let that little bit of control I needed to ground me. What control did I actually have? I had no power. Nothing to hold over him.

I was tied. To a table. In a room without a door. Cauldron knows where I am. Of course I had no power here.

But it… it filled me with fear. This primal fear, just like he said. And I couldn’t stop him from doing whatever he wanted. And that was… that was…

Pleasure ripped through me, forcing me to arch off the table and scream out. I hadn’t given my body permission to lean into this. Fuck fuck fuck. It felt so good, his fingers pushing me further down that fine line between reality and euphoria.

“My dove, that was quick,” his eyes were full of hunger. And so were mine. “I knew you would come around. I knew a slut like you would give into those animalistic behaviors at some point. Now the rest of this will be seamless. All you have to do is stay there and let me fuck you until you go dumb with it.”

My legs were shaking, my pussy clenching on nothing as he ripped them from my body. I might have moaned. Just maybe.

The male hit the button again and my legs flew down to help support my weight. I had to press on my toes to take some of the pressure off my wrists; pins and needles shot down my fingers and arms from the lack of blood.

“What do you say, dove? Should I make you cum again? Yeah, I think I’m going to.”

He knelt to the floor and grabbed the back of my calf. I watched, still heaving from my first orgasm. He let it fall over his shoulder, doing the same with the other. Was he going to- oooh gods….

The first pass of his tongue sent my head rolling back, eyes with it. I bucked my hips into his face, meeting his carnal stare. He grinned, chin glistening with my mess. He looked… fuck he looked good. All those sharp, cunning features between my legs. My mind melted and all my morals went with it.

Here I was: chained to a table with a sadistic, obsessive male, and I was loving the sight of him between my legs. What the fuck is wrong with me? I didn’t have time to answer my own question as content filled me. He lapped over every inch of my entrance and didn’t let up.

“Gods… fuck- forgive me,” I whimpered out, feeling this overwhelming sensation begin to break apart my seams. I gasped, then screamed. His teeth latched onto the inside of my thigh. He bit me. Hard. Forceful enough to bring tears up and forceful enough to make me bleed.

“Now if any other male tries to take you, they’ll see my bite and know that if they don’t get out they’re going to be in a world of pain,” he muttered, brushing away the drops of blood with his hand. He resumed the flicks of his tongue, not letting up when I began to see stars.

“Ple-Please,” I shout, arching off the inclined surface and clamping my legs around his head. In a second, I was pinned to the table, his nails digging into the skin of my thighs. A brutal hand came down right over the bite, and I screamed. Fuck that hurt. “Ah- stop.”

“Why? Does it hurt, my prey? It’s fucking supposed to. Now shut the fuck up and take it. Stop acting like you don’t love this.”

I cried out, his tongue darting up and down my core. My stomach tightened in that familiar way, but I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of another release. I had given him what he wanted, wasn’t that enough?

“Stop holding back.” Another claw of his nails at the backs of my thighs. “Cum now or I will make the next one far less enjoyable.”

I obeyed. I didn’t have a choice. My body just did it. I yelped, straining against the bindings so hard I knew they’d cut my wrists. With my hips pinned under his powerful hold, I twitched and writhed and shook with the force of my second orgasm. I couldn’t stop shaking. Couldn’t stop whining and begging him to stop licking me.

The male didn’t let up and tears fell out of my lashes. I sobbed. Sobbed. It was too much, too much pressure and pleasure it hurt. It stung. It burned and added to the ever growing pins and needles in my arms. They were numb, and couldn’t keep me up anymore.

My body flops fully against the table as he keeps a firm grip on me.

“M-Master please stop-” I begged, “please I need a break.”

Alas, he pulled his head away from my throbbing pussy. The sight of him was… Cauldron spare me. His hair was a tangled mess, and his eyes were full of his pupils. Black, affectionless pits in his face. He looked exactly as he said he was, a predator. A true, hungry, wild predator.

And I had made him that way.

“I’m far from done, my dove,” he rose to his full height, tilting the table all the way back. Relief flooded my arms. “I think you’re ready for something else.”

He came around to my head and I watched him, upside down, the light hurting my eyes. He shed the belt around his waist and let it fall to the floor with a loud ‘clang’. His scarred hand put the button through its slit and I could see the outline of him through his pants.

Holy Mother send me a blessing.

“Yeah, you’re gonna be able to fit it.” “No,” I shook my head. “No that will not fit in my-”

“Well, it’s going to. Open wide, pretty dove. Fuck… look at you. All spread out for me, pink and flush. You look so mouthwatering. So perfect for me to ruin and bruise.”

With another click of a button, the cuffs above my head began to move down. The blood rushed back and I sighed out. They were now at my sides. When I dared a look back up, the male had dropped his pants. Mother fucking- that is not going to-

“Open,” He demanded, palming my jaw. I was in too much shock at the sheer size to really hear it. A slap struck me in the face, and I jolted to the side. “Now. Make me ask again and see what I will do with this.”

My jaw unhinged and he slipped in. I choked, bending my legs to try and gain some leverage. Cool streaks slithered up my feet and around my ankles. they yanked, the force of it pulling me off his cock, and I looked down at the tendrils of shadow curled around my skin.

“What the fuck-” I shouted until I couldn’t breathe anymore. The male had come around the front of my head and slammed a hand against my throat. The pressure built up in my face, and I coughed, choking on what little air I had left. His eyes were narrow, a snarl on his lips.

After a few moments, the stars were back, and the room dimmed. Heart pounding. I was right there, so close to losing consciousness when air rushed back into my lungs. I thought I was going to throw up with how hard I was breathing.

He grabbed my hair and forced me down, shoving his cock back into my throat. All the way. I gagged. I was fully stretched out on the table as he rocked his hips into me. He was tall enough that the table wasn’t a hindrance.

“I told you dove, bad things happen when you disobey me.”

He almost put me unconscious. My head was foggy, and my vision was still laced with stars. I had no other choice but to take what he was doing. Just like he said I would.

When I closed my eyes, I let my throat relax. He praised me, sinking in further and further. Every other thrust I got a breath. He pulled out once and let the tip of his cock trace around my lips so I could catch a breath. Instead of waiting for him to decide when I was done, I stuck my tongue out in acceptance.

“My prey is learning so quickly,” he stroked a massive hair down my throat, pressing in. I could feel it prod against the surface of my skin, right where his hand was. “I bet you can feel that, huh? How far down I am?” A quick clench of his digits sent fear rolling back through my body. I couldn’t breathe again- “Shh, I won’t let you suffocate on my cock. There are far too many things we still have left to do. Just relax- that’s it. Look at you! Such a pretty whore, already wrung out on my cock. And I haven’t even been inside you.”

I swallowed around him when he removed his hand. That earned me a deep, rumbling sound from his chest. In the past couple minutes, his voice had dimmed to nothing but a growl. Like he was turning into an animal.

It was so thrilling.

With every snap of his hips, my whole body rocked with it. Wetness pooled onto the table and I could feel it smear against my skin. He reached down and pulled at my nipple, sending shocks all through my body. “Yeah you can take more. I want you a whimpering mess, you still have a ways to go, don’t you dove?” I nodded my head as best I could. “That’s what I thought.”

His hips snapped into my face, cock stabbing my throat. It was so painful, and my lungs burned for a full breath again. Nothing about the way he was forcing it in told me he was going to let me have one. It could’ve been minutes or hours that he fucked my throat. I wouldn’t have the slightest chance of talking in the morning. And part of me didn’t mind that thought. Or the thought of seeing his marks across my skin.

I moaned around him. I watched his head draw back, and heard what that had done to him. “Do that again, don’t stop.”

An endless supply of them tumbled out of me and around him. His hips stuttered for a second. Both of his hands palmed the side of my head, bringing it to meet his motions. One-two-three-four-five more later and he shoved all the way in, blocking my airway entirely. Long ropes of cum shot down my throat, forcing me to swallow. Some came back up into my nose.

When he pulled out, I nearly hurled. The taste wasn’t bad, but the need for air was. I gulped it down, eyes unable to keep themselves open. I could barely feel the cuffs loosen from my writs. I was a limp pile of used limbs. Exactly what he wanted.

I felt like I was in the clouds.

The next thing I knew was I was on the ground and the freezing concrete woke me up. My hands and knees stung and shook. I felt weightless and like I was a ton at the same time. I couldn’t keep myself up, arms giving out as I went face first into the floor.

All I could hear behind me was the male rugged breathing. Two agonizing slaps were planted on my ass. A garbled scream tore through the air as he did it again. And again. It eventually became so painful I couldn’t feel it. My chest was flat against the ground.

“I am gonna fuck you,” he told me. “And I am going to hurt you so fucking good. You’re gonna scream and cry until you can’t. I’m gonna fill you all the way up, too. So much it’ll drip out of you for the next hour.”

The tip of his cock swirled through the mess between my legs. “Please, master. Fill me up.”

“That’s it dove,” he pushed in, inch by inch. “Fuck that feels good. I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist me. You’re all mine. All fucking mine to use and breed and fuck whenever I want.”

If I had been anywhere other than wherever I was, people would surely be breaking down my door to rescue me. But I would shew them away and beg for him to continue. He was right. Fuck he felt good inside me. I don’t know how he fits. But then he kept going. And he kept pushing.

“Look at you, taking my cock like it’s nothing. You look so fucking pretty, my little dove. Fuck yourself on it. Fuck me like the useless, hopeless little creature you are. Maybe if you do a good job, your predator will let you go so he can hunt you again.”

My body was his at that moment. It wasn’t my own to begin with. He had full command over me. And I was happy to let him. I rocked back on my knees, my aching nipples brushing against the floor every time I did.

The noises were obscene; from our breathless pleas to his cock slipping in and out of my thoroughly soaked pussy… it was the most sinful symphony I had ever heard.

With earnest I rocked into him until he took over. One hand fisted in my hair and he yanked me up. I couldn’t be bothered to use my arms to help, I let him do all the work. His other hand brushed to where we were connected and over my clit.

I had already come twice, I didn’t know if I could a third. But he was going to make me, whether I wanted to or not. Just. like. He. Said.

The sound of our bodies echoed off the walls around us. He cursed deep in his chest while I had the breath fucked out of me. I had to catch myself when he threw my head down so I wouldn’t smack my nose off the stone. He hauled my ass into the pocket of his hips and hovered over me, forcing his body to align with mine.

His now bare chest was flat against my back, hard muscle contracting as he angled his pelvis into mine over and over. It was a brutal, erotic pace. His promise rang in my head: all fucking mine to use and breed and fuck whenever I want.

“Yeah take it you fucking whore. Take what your master is giving you,” his voice was distant in my ears. His nails scraped groves in the skin of my back, and I let go. I screamed. the tears came and didn't stop. All those emotions– fear, dread, desire– making their way to the surface and erupting as I came again. For a third time. “Fuck, my dove. Again? Gods you are such a slut for my cock. You love this. Being used by me. You’re fucking nothing without my cock to fuck. You were born for me to fuck this tight cunt of yours. To breed.”

I don’t know if my orgasm ever stopped or if they just kept rolling over into the next.

“My pretty cunt to use. Mine. All fucking mine, isn’t it? Say it dove, who does this body belong to?”

“Y-You, master,” I strangled out through cries and breaths. “It’s all yours, my master.”

His hands crashed down on my shoulders and pinned me to the floor so I wouldn’t move. I wouldn’t move even if I could. And I don’t. I want to stay right here, head far away from all my daily responsibilities as he pounds into me.

My master’s hips were ruthless. Every pump of his body into mine set my skin on fire. I had never felt pleasure, or pain, quite like this before. I’d never be the same again. He forced me to change to him. And I couldn’t ever change back. There was nothing I could do to stop him from breeding me. And I didn’t want to stop him.

“F-Fuck, my dove. I’m gonna breed you. Fuck it so deep inside you’ll never have a chance. Ready?”

“Yes yes yes yes yes,” I was incoherent. “Please, master. Fuck me so goooood.”

The noise that came out of him should have terrified me. But it didn’t. He let out a snarl so deep it rattled my bones, rattled the table and the floor with the force of it. I could feel his release inside me, but his hips never slowed. The nails on his fingers caught my skin and ripped it. I’m sure it’ll look like I was attacked by a wild animal in the morning. In a way I was.

He was feral, snarling and snapping behind me. It was either sweat or saliva that dripped onto my back.

It went on for a little longer, and then he forced his cock farther than it had pierced a new part of me that I hadn’t ever felt before. I couldn’t tell up from down, right from wrong in the next several minutes as he fucked into me, pushing and pushing and pushing as much of himself as he could into me. I went completely limp and he landed on top of me.

His warm body was shaking above mine, sweat soaking into my skin.

Neither of us spoke, neither of us moved.

When he stirred, he pulled out, making me feel impossibly empty while he rolled me on my back. Then it was back in, and I sighed contently.

“Would you look at that,” his voice cracked slightly. “My pretty dove has entered a true in between state. You can’t decide what to feel, can you?” The male's hand gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. I could barrel keep my eyes open anymore, and he let out the cruelest sound I’ve ever heard. “Such a worthless prey. You can’t even speak you're so enthralled with me. What a sight to see.” It didn’t even occur to me that we had never kissed until this instant. His lips were warm and hurried as they claimed mine. I melted into it, especially when he curled his tongue over mine. He moved his hips steadily as he did, drawing in and out a few times before he stayed put.

I was so many things– ruined above all of them. I didn’t know if I would walk again, if I’d be able to see a dahlia in the garden and not be instantly transported back to these memories.

Here I was, spent and limp, still at his mercy. And despite the moral side of me, begging me to be disgusted and horrified… I wasn’t. And I wasn’t guilty about it either. I should be, absolutely should be mortified by this whole thing. Yet I wanted- no, I needed it to keep going. To be taken at any point and whisked away from life to be played with. To be hunted.

It would be a secret I’d take to the grave. Not anything I’d tell anyone. I would keep this between me and the fucking devil. No one else could know how much I craved to be stripped of my rights and dignity.

I was moved, despite my protests, and hauled over a shoulder. That same suffocating shadow filled me once more and then the stars said hello. With what little energy I had left, I lifted my head off his shoulder and peered around. My meadow greeted me. The bugs and all there too.

The male slid me off his body and laid me down in the grass. I had also become dressed at some point, my dress put back together.

“You are free for now, my little prey. But I will find you again, and I will hunt you down no matter where you run to.”

I nodded up at him, a delightful smile on my lips. With a breeze from the crisp autumn air, he was gone, one with the shadows again. I laid there for a moment, not really having a ton of memories of what just happened. All I knew was that I had this ache in my body that filled me with satisfaction.

____

The stars twinkled above me as I pushed to a sitting position, waiting for a while for my mate to come get me. With a mighty beat of his wings, he landed in front of me, that feral look in his eyes gone since we left that underground room.

“Let’s get you home, my love,” he smiled sweetly, sweat still curling the ends of his hair. I reached my hands up and he gently pulled me to my feet. “I love you so much, Yn. So so much. It was perfect.”

“I know,” I smiled up at him. “I was pretty good.”

“Are you hurting?” I gave him a look that said ‘yes, you idiot, of course I’m hurting’. “Okay yeah stupid question. Let’s go clean you up and then we can soak in the tub and go to bed. I’m sorry if I-” “Shh,” I curled right into his chest when he lifted me up, kissing the side of his neck. “I didn’t safeword, did I?” “Well, no but that doesn’t mean-”

“Yes it does. I may have been under, I may have been afraid, but I was aware. It was everything I could’ve imagined.”

“You’re sure?” he asked again.

I nodded, slurring my words with sleep. “ ‘mm sure. Can we go home now?” “Of course. You are everything I could ever ask for. Thank you for doing that with me.”

“You’re very welcome,” I chuckled.

~~~~~~

[This is just a little bit of background building and the initial conversation between the reader and Azriel about the roleplay. I didn't add it in the beginning because I thought it might break the illusion. Feel free to read or not!]

Azriel had parts of him he was ashamed of. Things he’s done in the past that he is most certainly not proud of, but have become a vital part to who is and why he is that way. There’s nothing that can change those parts of him, not even his mate.

When the two of you first met, it was a thing of the universe. Completely unintentional. You had been delivering a bouquet of flowers from your shop in Velaris; they were the finest ghost orchids and water lilies grown in the Court. A simple pen error on your note card sent you to two houses over from the one that was supposed to receive them.

When you knocked on the door, your heart began to strike faster in your chest. It was an odd feeling to say the least. The door opened and a male answered the door. He had black hair and had the most captivating eyes you’ve ever seen. His voice was like silk when it hit your ears.

“Can I help you?” He asked, folding his arms across his sculpted chest. He was dressed down; a simple shirt and combat pants and boots.

It took a moment for you to conjure up a response. “I have a delivery. For… Sherion?”

“They live two houses to the left.”

“Oh,” you sighed out, looking back at your card. Surely you had written down the right address, or maybe they accidentally gave you the wrong house number? The row of houses stretched far around the bend of the street, it wasn’t the most impossible thing. “Well, sorry to bother you. Thank you for your help, sir.”

“Azriel,” he introduced, stretching out his hand.

“Yn,” you replied, offering the male a smile before you stepped down onto the sidewalk. “Enjoy your day!”

Azriel had no idea why he answered the door. Him and his High Lord were in the middle of a very important Court discussion and before the words were even out of Rhysand’s mouth, he was up and moving to answer it.

And there you were. Standing right in front of him. This small, utterly defenseless faerie, compared to him. You looked so wonderful. That was the only word he could think of: wonderful. You looked enjoyable to be around and comforting. There was a calm to your aura that instantly soothed the roar of the shadows in his ears.

You looked like everything he wasn’t. You were smooth and soft and unburdened by the weight of your past. Azriel was exactly that. Burdened. Solid. A bastard born Illyrian who had grown up in the cruelest way. Nothing about him was loving. Sure he loved and protected his brothers and the rest of his Court, but he hasn’t ever had one soul all to himself. To love and cherish and spoil with the part of him he didn’t let anyone see. But if he could ask you to give him a chance, he wouldn’t ever take it for granted.

How he managed to keep his cool, he’ll never know, but as soon as the door shut, he leaned against it, fingertips filled with static as he closed his eyes. He knew that feeling. The one he had with Mor all those years ago, with Elain. But now it was crystal clear. The other ones had been clouded by hundreds of years of rejection. Not this.

It had taken him a few days to find you, which wasn’t hard. He told Cassian first, who more or less shouted it across the room for Rhysand to hear. The both of them encouraged him to speak with you, to get a better idea if there was any type of bond at all on your end.

Azriel couldn’t tell when he met you, he brain was too busy being turned to mush by your beauty and grace.

But, eventually, he wandered into your shop at the end of the business sector of Velaris. It was cute, and had your scent all over it mixed in with the calming presence of fresh flowers and other plants.

The door opened with a chime and he stepped in. The first thing that happened when he shut the door was he knocked over a pot behind it. It shattered on the floor, and he let out a curse.

“Shit,” Azriel whirled around, wings clattering into some windchimes hanging in the window. They fell, thankfully they didn’t break, but they did make a jarring noise. “Cauldron boil me.”

“What is going on?” Your voice rang over the chaos at the front of the store, and when you appeared, your eyes settled on Azriel, and he looked around at the mess he made.

“I am so sorry, Yn. I didn’t see the pot behind the door and then these things,” Azriel sneered at the windchimes, “came down with it all. It’s a disaster, please, let me help clean it up.”

He watched you look from the pot, to the chimes, to the dirt on his wings. You laughed, so hard you clutched your stomach as you looked at the wary Illyrian.

“It’s okay, sir. It’s not a big deal. I have about a thousand pots in the back that are just laying around.”

“Then let me pay for it, and any of the chimes that I broke,” he tried to smooth his face into anything other than bitter self-resentment, but he probably did a poor job.

“Nonsense, it was an accident. And I guess I could make my shop a little more accessible to those with wings. It’s not every day that we have Illyrians here.”

The fact that you were willing to rearrange things in your store to accommodate him made his heart swell. Surely there was a blush to his tan skin when he rubbed the back of his neck.

Azriel couldn’t help but notice the clay smothering your hands, bits and pieces stuck on your face and in your hair. You wore working overalls and a long sleeve striped shirt. The ends of your pants were cuffed and your boots were laced all the way up.

He thought you looked adorable. Utterly adorable and he just wanted to cherish you.

You had similar thoughts about Azriel. That he was devastatingly handsome and outrageously gorgeous. Tall, dark hair, and lighter colored eyes. They were a perfectly crafted shade of hazel. The Mother took her time with this one.

You cleared your throat, trying not to blush at your obvious staring. “Is there something I can help you find?”

It took him a second to shake his thoughts together, “Yes, I did come here to buy flowers. Not to destroy your property.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you. “What are you looking for?”

“In all honesty I am not really sure. I’m trying to make a gesture, of sorts.”

“I see,” you nodded, looking over your shoulder. “Roses are always romantic, but a little over done in my opinion. There’s always succulents too, everybody always forgets about those guys. They make lovely gifts, are low maintenance, and more difficult to kill.”

“Interesting,” Azriel nodded along. “What about these?”

“These are wild bouquets. They are grown in the Hills, just field flowers but they look stunning all put together. A lot of them are imports from other Courts, brought here long before Prythian was Prythian. They grow freely in the plains and farmland.”

“Do they all have their own names or are they all just classified as wildflowers?” Azriel couldn’t have given a less of a fuck about what they were classified as, he just enjoyed hearing you talk about something you were obviously passionate about.

You looked at him like a normal person, not at the scars on his hands or the wings over his shoulders. He wasn’t sure what to think of it all. You didn’t fear him, which was odd enough, and you didn’t avert your eyes. It was like you didn’t know who he was, which was going to be hard to believe. But if, by some miracle, you didn’t, he would be grateful. So so grateful.

“Yeah, these are lavender, baby breath, candy fruit, blue flax… whatever is blooming is picked and wrapped up. These are just seasonal, there aren’t too many flowers that bloom wildly in Velaris outside of spring and summer, and even then it’s difficult to grow without a greenhouse.”

“I see, I see,” the Illyrian said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’ll grab one of those then. And one of those succulents you were talking about.”

With a clap of your hands, you snatched up a fuller set of wildflowers and set them on the counter by the register. On a shelf beside a display of pots and vases, you looked around before finding a great candidate. It was in a lovely array of echeveria in a triangular prism.

“Will that be all?” You asked, typing in the total and showing him.

“Yes,” he nodded once, handing you a palm-full of coins. “Please keep the change.”

“But- I don’t understand, this is twice the amount of the total cost?”

“I broke one of your lovely pots, it’s the least I can do.”

“You know I could rehydrate that, throw it again and make the exact same one in less than an hour, right?”

Azriel blinked. “Then consider it a shop donation.”

You looked from the change in your hand, to the man in front of you, back to the change. “I won’t be able to get you to take this back, will I?”

“No,” Azriel smirked, taking the flowers and succulent off the counter. “Thank you for your kindness, Yn.”

“Yours as well, Azriel.”

______

When it came time to close down the shop, you hauled in the signs outside advertising the sale for the day. You wiped the counters and swept the floors, fixing a few things on the chimes that got knocked over earlier. As you locked up, there was a rush of air behind you, making you jump.

“Mother above!” you shouted, clutching your chest when Azriel stood behind you. “What are you doing here?”

Azriel didn’t say anything as he tucked in his wings, extending the bouquet he bought just hours ago to you.

“Oh, did you need to exchange them? I can run back inside and get you a new one if-”

“They’re for you, Yn,” he said. “I was hoping to catch you as you were leaving to ask if you’d like to come have dinner with me?”

With a sparkle in his eye, a smirk on his lips, it was pretty hard to say no. Not that you wanted to say no anyway. It was pretty obvious that both of you were attracted to each other, in more ways than one. You were worried that it had been one sided.

And that was how it all started. One silly little typo of an address led you to the most devoted, selfless, and understanding male you could’ve asked for. Azriel could do it all. It took a while to get to that place, but it happened. It took a while to gain his full trust, but once you did, there wasn’t an area of his life you didn’t know about and admire.

He was so brave. So tenacious and powerful. Not to mention all of the other lovely physical aspects you learned about. Every aspect of your relationship was stunning. So rich and enjoyable. Every day was truly a new adventure with Azriel and the rest of his family; not to mention how awesome everyone else had been. Well, mostly everyone. Nesta and Amren were a little hard to crack, but Cassian, Feyra, and Rhysand quickly became some of the most important people in your life.

As time went on, more and more things were revealed between the two of you. The mating bond clicked and it was like taking a first breath all over again. It was over stimulating, in an unexplainably pleasant way.

Being able to feel, to hear everything the other was thinking was an experience you wouldn’t ever grow tired of having.

Azriel was tender, as tender as he knew how to be with you. He did a lot of learning from you on how you wanted to be loved, and vice versa. Azriel was complicated, but that didn’t make him unlovable by any means. It only made you love him more, just so he knew that he could be.

He wasn’t pushy about getting you into his bed, but you certainly didn’t mind taking that leap at one of the first hints. If his beauty was an indicator of just how thorough he was, boy were you in for a rude awakening.

He was flawless between your legs. So calculated and willing to give. But you quickly learned there were other sides to him you wanted to explore.

It started slowly, calling him ‘sir’ here and there to get a rise out of him. Which only leads to him asking you to try new things with him. You had always been a ‘why not try everything once’ kind of person. Extending beyond the bedroom. Azriel never pressured you to do something you didn’t want to, and there was almost nothing that he suggested that you rejected.

From a little bit of bondage to taking you in other areas of the House, it started slow, and then progressively got more and more intense. More real domination and exploration. The list of things that turned you on was growing rapidly thanks to him.

One day, while the two of you were sitting in your home, it was clear there was something on his mind.

____

READER POV

I watched as Azriel adjusted himself in his chair for the fifth time in ten minutes. He was squirming and outright fidgeting.

“Okay, what is going on with you? I’ve never seen you like this before.” I paused my flower arrangement and sat down in front of him.

Azriel wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“Love, what is it?”

He let out a sigh, deep and heavy and full of something he clearly didn’t want to speak about. “I was just thinking… It's nothing important. I don’t want to ask it of you anyway.”

“Why not?” I furrowed my brows. “You know there isn’t anything you could say to me that would make me cower.”

“That’s exactly what I want.” Your breath caught in your throat. Azriel shook his head, folding his arms across his chest. “I’ve had this- this fantasy of you for a long time and it is something so dark and outright dangerous that I’ve been afraid to ask.”

A chill spread down my spine when he looked at me. Those eyes meant trouble; whenever we roleplayed, he got this look, this look, when I disobeyed him. It could’ve crumbled anyone to their knees. But me? It lonely lit me on fire.

“Azriel, tell me.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. You know I will not judge you,” I stressed, swinging a leg over his lap, laying my hands over his shoulders. “I promise.”

His hands found my thighs, which he rubbed to soothe himself. He took in a deep breath before he spoke.

“Do you remember when we went to Summer? After the wedding?”

That was totally not what I was preparing for. “Yes? Of course I do.”

“Well, when Tarquin let us into those fields, and you were just picking flowers… I couldn’t help but think about how delicate you looked. You looked so peaceful and alone and I couldn’t stop thinking about how vulnerable you were. How easy you would be to overpower with your back turned. You’d be defenseless and- gods I sound ridiculous.”

“No, no you don’t. Keep going.” “Yn it doesn’t get better,” Azriel clenched his jaw. “I shouldn’t have these thoughts and I know it’s wrong-” “There is nothing wrong with having a fantasy and expressing it to me.”

His eyes were wide, lips parted. Azriel’s grip tightened on your hips. “I wanted to do nothing but force you to take me. To just- completely control you and have my way with you. You looked so innocent and perfect in the sundress and I wanted to ruin it. Ruin you. All over again. But with this animalistic part of me that I’ve never met. And then I just kept thinking about chasing you. Hunting you down and capturing you and tying you up. Fucking you senseless and forcing you to take whatever I wanted to do to you.”

I stared at him. And stared at him again. Fucking fuck… Azriel wanted to hunt me? To do things that most certainly shouldn’t have me writhing against him. He was already hard just talking about doing it. And I definitely shouldn’t have found it so hot.

He was right, it was a little sick and fucked up, but it was such a thrilling idea.

Azriel had this presence about him. Everyone he passed on the street was afraid of him. He drank it in. He loved when people were afraid of him. Well, everyone except me. He couldn’t stand the sight of seeing me scared, or at least I thought.

Images flashed in my mind: of running through the woods, unable to escape him as he chased me. Hunger written all over his face. Azriel effortlessly overpowering me. Forcing me to his hands…

“Oh, I see,” he startled me out of my daydream. Shit, I must’ve sent those images down the bond. “My little dove enjoys that thought, doesn’t she?”

“I don’t dislike it, if that’s what you mean,” I rasped, looking at him through half-hooded eyes.

“You want me to hunt you, don’t you?”

I shouldn’t nod. I really fucking shouldn’t. But he already had me under his spell, and I could not say no. The idea was so tempting, so profound and beyond anything we’ve ever done that I couldn’t think of anything more exhilarating. It would be terrifying, he would be terrifying, but there would be this primal fear coursing through me… secretly wanting all of it.

“Say it.”

“I want it, Az.”

“Want what?” He grabbed my chin, forcing my lips apart. “You have to say it, dove.”

My chest rose and fell quickly, already feeling that power of his in my blood. Through the bond. “I want you to hunt me. To capture me.”

Azriel's eyes physically changed colors in that moment. They went dark. Very dark. He bared his teeth, nostrils flaring as he moved his hand to my throat. “I am going to vanish and you are not going to be able to see me coming. I am going to hunt you like the pretty little dove that you are and there isn’t anything you can do to stop it. You can run, you can pray to whatever you believe in, but no one will be around to save you when I come for you.”

I nodded, eyes fixed on his lips. “How- how should I prepare?” Azriel let out a dark laugh, pulling me right to his face. “Oh, my pretty little dove, you won’t be able to. It’ll be so unpredictable that you won’t know what's happening. I’ll even make the bond go dark. There will be nothing loving about what I am going to do to you.”

_______

My hand had already found its way between my thighs on the first night. Thoughts wild with what's to come. Of course I know it’s just Azriel, but I know that it’s not going to feel like Azriel. To look or sound like him. He was going to hunt. Me. And I was going to let him.

#acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #acotar smut #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel smut #acotar #azriel acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #smut

586 notes · View notes