#I beg you to come home early with your weapon

[dustofthedailylife]

Archons above. I am not okay.

Every new official art of him sends me straight to heaven. He is so slkdjslkd. Someone hold me

I can't wait to have him and I'm so glad I'm guaranteed 😭

Would it be weird to admit that I want to be that book? No? Good.

#🍁 dust rambles #*high pitched screaming* #I'm back in my fangirl era #so far only Zhongli - Ayato and this mfer have managed to get me so excited #alhaitham #pls #I beg you to come home early with your weapon #genshin impact

[florencemtrash]

The Artificer: Part IV - Azriel x Reader

Warnings: Angst, soft Azriel, fluff, some suggestiveness

✨Based on this ask ✨

Masterlist of Masterlists

With those words you blew apart the walls he kept so fortified around his heart. Walls you’d steadily been hammering away at like metal until he’d been transformed into a weapon that would only ever sing to your touch.

Author's Note: This is the last chapter, everyone! Thank you for reading! ✨

You hadn’t specified which home you wanted to return to, and given the state of destruction your apartment had been left in during your kidnapping, you were grateful when Azriel and Cassian winnowed past the Day Court to the House of Wind. 

Azriel was your home anyways. More than any physical dwelling or stretch of land.

The water was gloriously warm, sliding over your skin with a soothing touch that had you groaning in pleasure. Madja smiled kindly, pouring more of the jug of medicine into the water and swirling it around with a dark, knobby hand. Her magic poured out as well, lacing the water so that the burning slashes on your back cooled and the flesh began the slow process of knitting itself back together. 

“Thank you,” You murmured gratefully, sinking into the bath until only your head remained unsubmerged. 

The House of Wind breathed quietly in the early hours of the morning when even the streets of Velaris had emptied and its citizens burrowed beneath their blankets to sleep. 

Azriel had been reluctant to leave you alone, practically glued to your side the whole flight back to the city, but finally relented when Madja commented on the absolute state he was in and shooed him off to bathe. 

You sat in the tub quietly, trying not to fall asleep as Madja scrubbed your skin, tainting the bathwater copper until whatever magic in the house whisked it away, turning the water crystal clear again. 

“Azriel. You should be asleep.” 

You stirred at the sound of Madja’s voice and the feeling of shadows sniffing at your neck. You sat up, turning in the tub and noting the damp curl of Azriel’s hair. He was clean and smelled like himself again - woodsy and crisp like the Illyrian mountains at night.

He said nothing, eyes zeroing in on the marks of your back. Madja had stitched them up as best she could, warning you that they would scar. You felt a dangerous tremor in the air coming off him. 

Madja must have noticed too because she dipped her head, promising to be back in the morning to check on your progress, and instructing Az to bind your back before you slept.

He nodded stiffly, moving forward to kneel at your side while Madja made her exit.

“Hey.” You murmured, leaning close enough to brush your lips against his forehead. You winced, feeling the strain in your back and Azriel immediately had his hands at your shoulders, gently guiding you to lean back into a comfortable position. 

He wordlessly filled his hands with a sweet smelling shampoo, running his fingers through your hair and massaging your scalp. He was being so painfully gentle, cupping water in his hands to rinse out the lather. You stretched your neck back to help him, unable to help the tears that streamed down your face. It felt like ages since someone had given you such a kind, gentle touch.

Azriel stiffened, withdrawing his hands and leaving you cold and wanting.

“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” Azriel asked, his golden brown skin paling. 

“No.” You shook your head, “No I liked it.” You gazed at him, eyes wide and begging, “Please do it again.” 

Azriel let out a breath, returning his hands to your hair as you closed your eyes and sank into his touch. He was grateful you were closing your eyes. It left his eyes free to wander over your body, tracing the dip of your breasts as they sank beneath the milky, fragrant water, rising and falling slowly as you finally found yourself able to rest. 

He traced the wound that made its way up your back and onto your shoulder with a feather light touch, hating the expanse of ruined flesh that he knew was hidden further down. He kept glancing down at your hands, swollen and aching even as they healed. It would take a month before your hands and back would heal enough to go back to work.

Azriel swallowed, wiping away at his eyes angrily. This shouldn’t have happened. He should’ve been there to protect you. He should’ve-

“Azriel.” You whispered. Your eyes were open and centered on the Shadowsinger. You reached up, gently wiping away his tears with soapy hands that smelled of rosemary and orange. “It wasn’t your fault,” You murmured, “I’m not angry at you and I’m not afraid of you. I could never be afraid of you.” 

It wasn’t your fault. I’m not angry at you and I’m not afraid of you. I could never be afraid of you.

With those words you blew apart the walls he kept so fortified around his heart. Walls you’d steadily been hammering away at like metal until he’d been transformed into a weapon that would only ever sing to your touch. 

He curled into you, ignoring the rush of water that soaked his shirt as he buried his face in the curve of your neck and quietly wept. 

When he finally stilled and the water had turned salty and cool, he gently lifted you out of the tub, drying your hair and your skin with a reverent touch. He then bound your hands and back in ointment and gauze. 

“Stay.” You commanded after he had slipped you under the covers of the bed - his bed - and pulled away. You held onto a fistful of his damp shirt, tugging at it with a frown like it personally offended you.

Azriel obeyed, peeling the hated garment off him and throwing it somewhere in the room. He climbed into bed beside you, letting out a groan of relief when you immediately wrapped your arms around him and buried your fingers in his hair, pulling him close for a kiss. 

“Thank you for coming for me.” You murmured, your eyes drifting closed. You couldn’t fight off sleep any longer.

“I will always come for you, Y/n.” Azriel promised. “Always.” 

He couldn’t be sure you heard him or that you would remember this in the morning, but you had a soft smile on your face when Azriel tucked you under his wing and pressed a kiss to your temple.

You can thank me later by convincing your mate not to slaughter me.

Eris Vanserra’s words rattled around in your mind as you sat at the breakfast table, sandwiched between Azriel and a bronze-skinned female with the most striking features you’d ever seen. 

Emerie. You reminded yourself. 

There had been a great number of introductions the past two weeks as everyone clamoured to meet the female that had stolen Azriel’s heart like a bandit in the night.

Azriel was a private male through and through, and you had the sense that if the circumstances were different, he would have wanted to keep you to himself for a while longer. In between bites of honey-soaked bread dusted with cinnamon and roasted pistachios, Azriel slyly reached down and grabbed your chair, sliding it close to him and wrapping an arm around your waist until you were practically sharing his seat.

Emerie stared at him strangely, but he remained frigid and silent. 

“Territorial Illyrian babies.” Emerie muttered with a roll of her rich brown eyes. 

Mor leaned back, peeking around Emerie’s wings and catching the blush in your cheeks as you rearranged the silverware and plates. 

Her shoulders shook with laughter, cherry red lips splitting into a wide smile. She squeezed Emerie’s thigh beneath the table, leaning forward to give her a chaste kiss on the lips. 

Forgive him, Em. He’s being an idiot. 

I just don’t see why he won’t tell her they’re mates. I can understand him being protective against Cassian and Rhysand, but me? Emerie told Mor with a grumble, taking a sip of the mimosa Mor loved so dearly and twisting her nose in distaste. This is disgusting.

You’ll grow used to it. Mor responded with a coquettish wink that had Emerie’s core tightening. 

After breakfast and a day spent in the city you found yourself alone in your room - or rather Azriel’s room - once again mulling over Eris’s words.

Your mate. Your mate. Your mate.

You finished tying the bow in your hair, admiring the lush blue satin and thinking of the Shadowsinger who’d gifted it to you just hours earlier, coyly suggesting you wear it to dinner tonight before disappearing to take care of his own Spymaster business.

You smoothed the hand-painted bodice of your cobalt blue dress. Diaphanous silks spilled out from your waist, melting into darker hues where the dress stopped at your ankles. It had been decades since you’d worn such finery, but unlike the dresses you’d been forced to wear for Dawn Court functions, this one you’d chosen for yourself.

You hoped Azriel wouldn’t mind you stealing his colors in such dramatic fashion, even if he had gifted you the ribbon without seeing the rest of your planned outfit. 

You frowned at your reflection, pale plum lips turning down. 

Rhysand and Azriel had been highly insistent on you staying in the Night Court until the end of next month. For Rhysand it was because he wanted to repay you for the swords you’d crafted for him and his brothers - you’d safely hidden them away in your workshop before the Autumn Court males had torn through the place. For Azriel it was because he wanted you to heal in lavish comfort - which Rhysand was more than willing to fund - and because he couldn’t stand the thought of being separated from you ever again. 

But with every pair of trousers, shirts, shoes, and elegant dresses that started to fill your half of Azriel’s wardrobe, you began to wonder - if you were truly Azriel’s mate, why hadn’t he said anything yet? Why hadn’t you felt anything yet?

Everyone else certainly seemed to be under the impression that you’d be staying. That they just needed to wait for your permission before fully absorbing you into their wonderful family. 

Mor had clung to your arm on shopping trips, charming you with her personality and pointing out places in the city and around the River House where you might set up a workshop. Rhysand had already set up an account for you at the city banks, and the last time you’d checked, he’d thrown in such a large sum that your mother would faint if she ever saw the balance books. You’d even gotten roped into joining a book club with Emerie, Gwyn, and Nesta.

Had Eris only been lying about you two being mates? Or maybe Azriel wanted you, but in a different way… 

While you continued contemplating this, Azriel slipped into the room in his usual preternaturally silent way, freezing immediately when he saw you standing in front of the mirror. 

Your dress… He swallowed. Gods you were breathtaking. The bodice laced in the front, velvet blue cords snaking down fabric hand-painted with swirls of dark ink that spilled down your skirts and seemed to collect in a pool along the hem. Your arms were still free to move and you’d decided to forgo slippers for your new favorite pair of boots. The supple leather was molded perfectly to your feet and had, as of yet, been spared the mark of hard labor. 

And the ribbon… gods the ribbon. It hung down your back and over your shoulder like a curl of shadow. 

You were breathtaking. No more or less breathtaking than the day he’d first met you, just in a different way.

So why did you look displeased?

You wiped the expression from your face when you felt Azriel’s presence in the room, turning around slowly with a proud, but shy smile on your face.

“What do you think?” You asked as he slid across the room with silent footsteps. His eyes traced over you, pausing on the bodice laces and the ribbon, like he had half a mind to tug both until they unraveled. “Not my usual garb, I know.”

“I like it.” He insisted, voice as soft and silky as the shadows that wound around your waist and pulled you close to him. He replaced the shadows with his hands, hands moving to your back where they rubbed calming circles. “You’re wearing blue.” He said rather dumbly, still in awe.

He wanted to say, You’re wearing my color. But that was overly possessive of him to think you’d worn the dress for him. He didn’t have a monopoly on all things blue. And yet the fabric matched his siphons so perfectly that his hands disappeared in the folds of your skirts. 

“I am.” 

He stilled, and then carefully asked, “Are you… displeased by it? You didn’t look particularly happy when I came in.” 

You looked down, escaping his gaze, “No! I like the dress. I picked it myself with Feyre and Mor last week. Do you like it?”

“I love it. You’re beautiful, Y/n.”

Ask him now. Just ask him.

Azriel felt your nerves roiling in your stomach through the bond. The bond you still had no idea about. A pang of guilt slivered into his heart. He had wanted to tell you the first night at the House of Wind, when the mating bond had finally snapped in place so powerfully he’d almost gotten down to his knees in front of Madja’s questioning gaze. But then he’d seen your back, and that wave of anger from Icaryon Hill had returned to him ten-fold. Telling you about the mating bond paled in comparison to the need to give you space to heal, to be happy and safe and cared for. So even though it felt like his blood was boiling in his veins and his heart would leap out of his chest, he’d slipped into bed beside you that night and every night afterwards, content to just hold you as close to his chest as possible and get drunk off your intoxicating scent. 

You’d told him you were happy in the Night Court. You’d filled his wardrobe and his heart with more of your things as you traversed Velaris and fell in love with the city. 

“Have I done something wrong?” His voice was quiet, tinged with a child-like guilt that he’d carried around with him ever since he was young. A guilt that made him want to beg you to love him, even though he hadn’t been able to protect you like you should have.

“What?” You looked at him in alarm, “No! No, you’ve done nothing wrong, Az. Nothing.” 

He deflated in your arms, nuzzling into your neck so you felt every sigh breeze against your throat. 

“Why would you ask me that?” 

He gave only the barest shrug of his shoulders. Then he began to kiss your exposed neck, gently tugging aside the thick straps of your dress to kiss your shoulders. You shivered when he reached the new scar tissue, soft lips tracing their pattern like he wanted to smooth the skin there and erase the pain of what had happened. 

His shadows condensed around you both, reflecting the anguish he kept simmering beneath the surface. You wove your fingers through his night-black hair and he relaxed beneath your hands. 

Ask him now. Just ask him.

“Azriel? Why haven’t you said anything about the mating bond yet?” You blurted out before you could lose your courage.

Azriel jolted back like you’d slapped him, pupils blown. 

“You…” He exhaled heavily, “You know?”

“Eris told me. But when you never said anything, I figured he might have been lying about it or that maybe you didn’t want me to know or something-”

“No.” Azriel cut in quickly. He had no idea how Eris had found out about the mating bond when his brothers weren’t even aware, but that was a mystery to be solved another day. “I wanted to tell you. Please know that I wanted to tell you.” 

“So it’s true.” You said breathlessly, feeling your chest clench in anticipation. “We’re mates.” 

Azriel became a solid block of ice, silent and foreboding. You were nervously shifting from foot to foot, pressing your hands tightly against his chest and that made him feel sick to his stomach. Finally he nodded, steeling himself for the worst and praying for the best. 

It took a moment for the words to fully seep into your mind and into your heart. Then your face broke in a grin that put the sun, moon, and stars to shame. 

“We’re mates?!” You shrieked with laughter, leaping into his arms and throwing your arms around his neck. “You bastard! You absolute bastard!” 

Azriel dared to laugh back, melting into you like cream on a summer day. 

Bastard suddenly seemed like quite a pleasant title when it came from your lips. 

He wrapped his strong arms around your waist, spinning you around before he could help himself. 

When you felt the bond for the first time, it wasn’t some thunderous crack in the air or some shifting of the bones of your soul. It was more like twirling around in Azriel’s room with his hands flat against your back until you both stumbled back into the bed, something gentle and solid sliding into place and setting the air abuzz with gripping clarity. Like metal melting and fusing together into something impenetrable. 

You stroked the bond, a rumble of pleasure leaving Azriel’s body. 

Hello there, my love. You said softly.

His eyes became pools of liquid gold. 

Hello, Y/n. 

Your heart fluttered in your chest like an ecstatic bird. The feeling didn’t dissipate as Azriel led you down ethereal arched hallways to the balcony where a small banquet table had been laid out for his family - yours too now. 

You were very aware that your hair was disheveled and that your skirts were crinkled despite the efforts of Azriel’s shadows to make you presentable. You could only hope that the color you’d swiped over your lips wasn’t as smeared as you suspected it was. 

Azriel, on the other hand, looked as flawless as he always did. Not a single hair out of place. He’d somehow even managed to wipe the pale plum lipstick off his mouth and his neck in the time it took to walk downstairs to dinner.

Cassian sputtered on his wine, spitting half of it out on the black lace table.

Gwyn squealed in excitement, blue robes billowing as she shot up from her seat and clapped her hands. 

“I called it! Nesta, you owe me fifty gold.” 

“For fuck’s sake.” Nesta grumbled, a leather bag appearing in her hand which she deftly threw in the priestess’s direction. “You couldn’t have waited another two weeks?” But a smile of approval pulled at the edges of her lips.

Rhys and Feyre leaned into one another as Mor, Emerie, and even Amren stood from their chairs, prepared to offer their congratulations. 

Azriel tightened his hold on your waist, pulling you even closer to his side like he wanted to be absorbed into you. A deep hunger lay barely concealed behind a facade of nonchalance. But he managed to hold that all back when the females approached, but to Cassian he gave a growl of warning.

Cassian gasped, clutching at his chest, “My brother. My own flesh and blood. What is this betrayal?”

“Technically you’re both adopted. No blood relation.” Rhys called out from a safe distance away at the end of the table. He lifted his wine in acknowledgement, grinning brightly at the two of you. Unlike Cassian, he had a slightly better grip on his self-preservation skills.

“Shut the fuck up, Rhys.” Cassian said, rolling his eyes and retreating back to his seat glumly, “Well at least sit down! We’ve been waiting for you both.”

You glanced at Az and he finally smiled, bowing his head to your neck and gently pressing kisses there. You slid forward out of his hands before you could fall prey to more of his tempting touches. 

Soon. You promised, clicking your tongue. He’d been touching you incessantly ever since the bond fell into place. So impatient.

Azriel sent another wave of longing through the bond. He’d waited over five hundred years and then some for you. You didn’t want him to have to wait much longer.

You snatched an empty plate and cutlery from the table before piling it haphazardly with lamb, garlic-roasted potatoes, and a few other mouth-watering offerings before finishing it off with a slice of lavender cake.

Azriel looked all too pleased when you returned to his side. In fact he looked equally, if not more, flustered than you as you gripped the plate with an iron grip. 

Everyone else stared in shock, almost overcome by the way Azriel was nearly bursting apart at the seams. 

He was ravenous and wanting and looked ready to shred your bodice to ribbons. He didn’t know how he’d been able to control himself back in the bedroom. 

“We’ll see you in a couple of weeks.” You said, offering no more explanation. 

A month. Azriel chimed in.

“A month.” You amended and Azriel smiled. “Maybe more…” His smile grew even wider. 

Without another word, Azriel swooped down and gathered you in his arms, leaping off the balcony in a flurry of wings, shadow, and blue skirts. Your laughter rang in his ears all the way to the cabin he kept tucked away in the Illyrian Mountains, a cabin not even his brothers knew about. 

There amongst the snow laden mountaintops, you buried yourself in his arms and in his love. You stripped him down to nothing and he tore your dress to pieces, promising he’d buy you all the blue dresses you could ever want. 

I like when you wear my color. He revealed after you he had you splayed out in a sea of tattered cobalt fabric

You giggled in his ear. At least let me wear the ribbon then. 

Azriel groaned in response, collapsing on top of you and stealing kisses like he needed them to breathe. 

He let you wear the ribbon. 

He let you wear nothing but the ribbon.

Back in Azriel’s room at the River House - your room - Sunseeker hung on the wall, thrumming with a pleased and subtle power. Nightshade called out from next to her, a dark twin of obsidian and blue pearl. Her equal in every way. 

Two blades for two mates.

<- Previous Chapter

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#azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel x mate reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar #I do not write smut so I will leave it at the ribbon #if you want smut #don't worry #plenty of other people write smut

[stargirl-in-dilfspace]

Comfort(ers) & Sheets - Joel Miller x Reader [Drabble]

[moodboard for moodboards sake can easily be read as game or hbo joel <3]

warnings/themes: allusions to sex, no smut, fluff, lots of romance/love, pov swap, implied plot, it’s sweet & short that’s it.

a/n: just a quick drabble based on a thought I had at 11pm when I should’ve definitely been sleeping. thoughts loved and appreciated if you enjoy <3

————————————————————

You could spend every late Sunday morning all wrapped up in the huge white comforter you’d invested in when you moved into this house from trading.

Specifically under it, with your very sleepy husband sprawled out on his side of the bed, as you lay, naked (Joel had made sure of that the night before) your stomach pressed against the mattress, your fingers tracing down his face, over his nose. His scars.

The cool summer breeze from the morning seeps in with the dim sunlight, the warmth and coolness all at once of the oversized, stuffed blanket makes you want to lie there forever.

He doesn’t stir. Not anymore. When he knows you’re there he stays still, content even in his sleep.

You slip out of bed, only a loose sheet wrapped around you, opening the back patio door and settling in a rocking chair he’d built for you. You watch the trees behind your home, in the warm sun, your body sore and relaxed all at once. You took pride in that, even if Joel didn’t believe you. He made you feel like you could just…melt, soak into the dark ground and dig your way right back out just for him again.

“Sugar…” Joel all but spoke loudly as he leaned on the doorframe, he’d been there for a few minutes now, but he wouldn’t tell you that. In his mind, when he got to watch you think, about anything, he’d been blessed by some divine grace to have you.

“Honey.” You smile, turning enough to see him.

“Still early…come back to bed?” He offers, his tone convincing, always too convincing.

“We have a day to start.” You remind him, as he leans down to take up your hand, letting you make sure the sheet that covered you was wrapped still. You’d shown him every piece of you, and every second of that he wanted more. But until he had you safe and comfortable…that piece of you only he got, stayed hidden to the world, and to him.

“The day can wait on us.” He replies simply, picking you up completely as he carries you back in, and you shut the patio door.

————————————————————

Your soft breath. That’s what he listens to. It’s the same as a heartbeat to him. It means you’re alive, and still here with him, sheet left to the floor, the same with your clothes, to be found when you meet the day. His eyes watch your resting face, pensive but restful nonetheless. His right hand snakes into your hair and out, a repeated motion, his left placed over yours, on his bare chest. He’d managed it again. Managed to keep the most beautiful and most precious thing in his life in his bed, sure, with his head buried deep between your thighs, and a slow and sleepy push back into sleep.

But he likes it that way. He’d stay like this for an eternity if he could, ignorant to every sin and deformity that is the world now, mapping out every inch he could of you, instead of escape routes and patrol paths.

He wanted every piece of you, just the way you are.

His eyes are tired but the last thing he wants to do is sleep. He watches his calloused hands, destroyed by the grips of countless guns and weapons.

He should marry you again.

Even with the years that take a toll on both of you now, years that you can let show on your faces and bodies, he wants to be smooth like a whiskey on a bar with a new finish, soft like a shower, washing the dirt from your body after a long day, a relief to you the way a breath of fresh air feels after the restriction of a gas mask. Those are the things he strives, no, begs some higher power to be.

Even in his dying breath, he is yours. That’s all he knows.

#pedro pascal #writing prompt #joel miller #game joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #fluff #fanfic #the last of us #tlou #joel tlou #tlou2 #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #tlou game #pedro pascal fandom #writers on tumblr

[updownlately]

i'm the definition of 'wreck' (if you look into my soul)

| leah williamson x reader | angst | 2.4k | inspo: time by nf / everywhere by niall horan | a/n: i tried to write angst, no idea how that went but here's what i got. technically since no names were named you can imagine any player from the arsenal wfc as 'her' but i wrote this with leah in mind bc well im a lw6 simp

~~~

It's been like this for weeks. This push and pull. The little things that work just a little harder each time to knock you over the edge. To be honest you don’t know how much of it you can take. And what’s worse is you know you’ve got nobody but yourself to blame. 

It’s when she’s leaving your shared bed early in the mornings, long before either of you need to be up. It’s the way she’d retire to bed later than she probably should, long after you’ve headed up, risking less sleep just to avoid contact. 

It shouldn’t be like this. Love shouldn’t be like this. It shouldn't be missed date nights, keys grabbed after every fight, doors slammed, sometimes more nights a week spent at hotels than your own bed.  Yet, it’s all you’ve ever known and the only thing you carry in your heart. This sad, broken, pathetic attempt at love is really all you have to offer.

In all honesty, you were shit at this relationship thing, though no one could blame you. They say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree and yet you’ve begged and prayed that it would. And yeah you technically have control over your actions and should better yourself, but you’ve tried and failed over and over again. You’ve tried to improve, work on yourself, create a better version of you, but in the end, when everything’s burning and there’s napalm in the air and rubble all around you, all you’ll ever know is to grab your weapon, fire, and run. 

It’s left you alone, failed relationship after failed relationship. You swear you’ve tried. Tried to work on communicating, on breathing deep breaths before your anger builds up, on talking about your fucking feelings. Regardless, it’s never enough for yourself. You run, you hide, you lock yourself away until there’s nothing to find.

So when weeks and months pass and you see her each day with the light finally returning to her eyes you can’t help but be glad that she got rid of you. 

And when you feel so broken seeing her and her family after a game won at your home pitch, you quietly gather the shattered pieces of your heart and make your way toward the locker rooms with nobody but yourself to blame.

It's only as you pass the friends and family section that you can pick out her mother’s voice and your name being said in conversation, with a follow up question on how you’re doing, something you really don’t deserve after how you’ve treated her.

You’re very much aware that no matter how many times you fix your damaged heart and dull all the sharp edges, that you’ll still end up hurting those around you. So you speed up ever so slightly, shielding your already broken heart, cradling the pieces that had fallen ever so gently as they break further in your hands, careful not to cut anybody along the way. You swear you drop some pieces in your hurry, but with your rush you tell yourself you’d come back later to grab them (spoiler: you never do).

~

You end up showering and changing before anyone else has even made it back inside. Making a pit stop to confirm your departure and the following days’ schedules with your manager and coach, you check the time and head to your car.

It's late afternoon and while that helps expand your options for lunch, it also means you have one too many hours left in the day to survive before you can let yourself head to bed. Contemplating on how to spend the rest of your day, it’s your tiredness that makes the final decision. 

You grab a quick lunch, choosing to not head home and instead to the gym for a workout. It may not be one of your wiser decisions to have an extensive training session today, but with the free time on your hand and the voices in your head, there’s really no better option. 

Meeting up with your trainer, which by the way bless his heart for booking you at the last minute, you gather your gloves and handwrap and head towards the equipment. It’s as you run through your normal warm-up that you reflect on how pathetic your life’s become. 

For the past three months, you’ve damn near ceased to exist. Yeah your body’s still here, you’re waking up in the mornings, attending practices, playing in games, all the good stuff really, but you know you’re not there. A feeling you’re all too familiar with. The lack of care of what happens to your body, the way your slide tackles and play gets just a tad bit more dangerous each game, the way you keep training, choosing to ignore the idea of a recovery period, the way your car’s more comforting to you than the apartment you own. You’ve been here before and it wasn’t a good place then and it sure as hell isn’t now, but it's all you know and the only thing that’s never really left, so you’ll cherish it for as long as you can. You know that if anything and everything leaves, as they always seem to do, you’ll still have your companion in the darkness.

The sane part of you realizes how far gone you are, it tries, tries so helplessly hard to pull you back, remind you that you can be okay, but this time? This time you’re sure you’ve given up on trying to remember that. So you’ll do what you know best. Let it consume you. Let it destroy you. Pick you apart piece by piece. Let you slowly forget the feel of a sunny day and a good practice with the team. Rid you of the joy that comes with the pretty sunsets London Colney sometimes has to offer. And this time you’ll let it all happen with open arms, truly, honestly, finally exhausted.

An hour later when your trainer’s calling it a day and forcing you to take a break, you listen, if only to spare yourself a lecture. You grab your stuff, shower, change, and head out. You’ve still got a couple hours left to kill, and with your training bag and boots still in your car, it’s not a difficult decision of where to go. 

Opening your car door and entering, you can feel the day catch up to you, your body readily sinking into the driver's seat, almost protesting against your mind. You know you’ll be feeling these workouts tomorrow, but your mind’s not done racing yet. 

Lacing your boots a short while later, back at the training grounds, you grab your spare ball and warm-up once again, going through the motions. With how many hours you’ve spent at the grounds alone, you’ve developed a pretty consistent solo training session. It's the peace of being alone, a football at your feet, and a near-perfect grassy pitch at your disposal that your mind slowly begins to slow, finally tiring.

You thought you got lucky, a finally tired mind and the hour changing to one acceptable enough for sleep, but then your phone rings, an all too familiar caller ID flashing the screen.

Eight pm after a match in the afternoon is an odd time for your coach to be calling you and with curiosity getting the best of you, you scramble to answer the phone. Running through the pleasantries, you gently prod the reason for his call. 

The answer you get isn’t what you were expecting really, but then again, it was a miracle it had taken this long for it to be said.

“Your contract’s ending soon. wrapping up the third and headed into the final year. Any thoughts on your future?”

The tone in Jonas’ voice causes your heart to sink. This club had been home to you since you had left your own. Arsenal had accepted you with open arms from the start, being your saving grace when you had thought you were going to be subjected to living a broken life at a place that never felt like home. When they had renewed your initial two year contract into another four, you had been elated for your future. You had never felt more excited to be tied down to a place before. taking a silent deep breath, you push back the memories of that day and swallow your emotions effortlessly.

“Depends. What's my future at Arsenal looking like?”

“You tell me. You of all players know that chemistry in a team is what makes a team run, what makes a team successful.”

His response tells you everything you need to know. You know he wasn’t oblivious to what had happened. How your outgoing personality had slowly stopped being exactly that. The way that you had pulled away from your teammates, treating them like nothing more than colleagues rather than friends, treating your job as what it simply was, your job. But you never expected him to have let it impact your presence on the team. You knew what you were worth and what you brought to the table. You weren’t a goal scoring machine, or defensive unit, a tough protective wall. You were you. You played all your minutes like they were the last you’d ever play, heart left of the pitch (not that there was much left of it anyway). You were content with setting your teammates up, leading the league in assists. You were a decent tackler, winning more than two thirds of your face-offs on the regular. You knew your worth on the team, and your agent reminded you of it often enough too, mentioning the potential offers you could have from other clubs regardless of how many times you’d told him you didn’t plan to leave.

“Our on pitch chemistry hasn’t changed. My on pitch chemistry hasn’t changed. We’re still a unit on the field Jonas and you know it. You know I have the utmost respect for you and this club, don’t let me think any differently.”

“A handful of clubs have reached out. Their offers are tempting to say the least.”

As much as it hurt you to say the next few words, you knew that taking any other stance would leave you stuck, broken for the umpteenth time. “I trust you to make the best decision for the club. At the end of the day, I wish nothing but the best for Arsenal.” 

The ‘with or without me’ goes unsaid but from the few years that you’ve worked with him, you knew for a fact that he had heard the unspoken words. As Jonas lets you know that while a decision had to be made, there wasn’t an immediate rush, you know for a fact that you’ll likely not be calling London home again. And when you both agree to reconnect a week from now, you’ve already accepted your fate. 

It’s an unusually silent drive home for you. The brief break you had earlier from your mind is long gone as you make a mental note to get in touch with your agent first thing tomorrow morning.

~

The post goes up after your last match of the season. While Arsenal had qualified for the Champions League once again, the team had gotten knocked out in the semis for the tournament, ending their season a few days early. It’s between the break of club football and world cup prep that your departure is announced, with no real destination said. If you hadn’t known that London wasn’t home for you anymore, the lack of a response besides an occasional story about the post from a few of your teammates solidified it. 

It's when Bayern upload their new signing post with you holding up your new jersey that the final nail in the coffin is hammered in. The way your move suddenly becomes real. The comments being said online. Speculation on why Arsenal decided to let you go despite your importance to their success. Why Bayern was who you chose. Why there was no lengthy farewell. The people were digging for any crumbs, any notions on why you may have left, but it was only you and your teammates that really knew, and you all chose to keep mum. 

It’s with the acceptance that you’re leaving do you feel absolutely unwanted and lost. And while you’d felt lost in your life before, it had never been like this. Feeling lost was when you were younger and couldn’t find your mother while at the toy store and when you had gotten your first failing mark in school. Feeling lost was when you were asked to leave your childhood home after coming out, no idea where to go. It was when you still got night terrors from the fights that your parents used to have even when you thought you had healed. But being lost had never felt like this. It had never reminded you that you had lost the only good in your life. That the only family you had ever loved didn’t want you anymore. That you hurt all those around you, people you promised to protect and love. That you had a gaping hole in your chest from a gun that you had fired. 

So as the weeks pass and the world cup comes and goes and you notice yourself slipping just a little more each day, you let it play out. You don’t know what your breaking point is but at this point you just don’t care enough to not find out, especially since you’ve got nobody to blame but yourself.

When you leave your bed early in the mornings, long before you need to be up just because sleep wasn’t coming to you and retire to bed later than you should just to avoid having to lay in a bed alone, you blame yourself. When you come home to an empty apartment in a new city, the loneliness amplified by the darkness you choose to adorn your apartment with, you have no one to turn to but yourself. And when you interact with your new teammates solely for work in fear of hurting them too, you remind yourself that you’re broken, only able to spread your misery rather than feel joy.

It never was supposed to be like this. Existing wasn’t supposed to be like this. But now it’s all you know and all you have. So when you wish you yourself could leave your body and soul behind, it wasn't hard to understand why she left you.

At the end of the day, when everything's done and gone, you at your core were a mess you didn't know how to control, a wreck of a soul, barely alive.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader #woso fanfics #angst #arsenal wfc x reader #x reader #reader insert #my writing #fic #itdow #leah williamson

[spoiled-milk]

dan heng as your roommate (modern au)

a/n: in compliance with dan heng’s five star release being yesterday here’s brainrot for my beloved also praying that those who pull for dan heng win their 50/50 or get him early (it took me 80 pity with guaranteed 😭😭). will be mia so i can farm more stellar jades for his weapon since he wanted to come home on hard pity

content warning: mentions of alcohol consumption, other than that none that i can think of. no mention of reader's gender

word count: ~1k words

you share a small apartment with dan heng. you used to share it with one of your friends, but a sudden job opportunity for them turns into you frantically finding a roommate to fill so that you’re not paying the full price of the rent next month

you find dan heng through one of your friend’s friend. March (your friend) knew someone with grey hair who then gave dan heng your details since he was looking for a place to live

you two officially meet at a coffee shop where you discuss rent, house rules, and the lease and you did not expect him to be hella attractive

rules are as follows: there’s a chore list on the fridge in the form of dry erase board, if bringing over friends you must let the other know before you bring them over, no going into the other person’s room without their knowledge, and keep hooking up to a minimum if possible or keep it quiet

at first he seemed like a quiet guy who wanted nothing to do with you which like didn’t hurt your feelings too much yk you just needed someone to pay half of the rent, but slowly he starts to open up to you and you have no problems opening up

usually you take turns cooking, but he’s come to realize you only know how to make is boxed food and breakfast foods, so after eating waffles for the 12th time that week he decides he’ll cook dinner for the most part

dan heng without fail will always give you the last piece of anything he makes. dumplings? you can have the last one. 12 pack of juice in the fridge? he won’t even go get more unless you drink the last one. you make brownies as a token of appreciation for him and insist you don’t want any and all of it is for him? you find the last piece tucked away in the fridge with your name on it

he makes it a point to do the dishes together. at first he argued that he could do it but after much begging from you, he allows you to help him rinse the dishes

this has become a nearly every night thing. you eat whatever dan heng makes then y’all do the dishes. most of the time you’re doing the talking, but it’s not exhausting to talk to him like you talk to others

you don’t know much about his past but he sure does knows a lot about your past. you’re sure march probably unintentionally spilled about your past, but you don’t really mind knowing it’s just dan heng. march has told you to ask him but when you do, he softly shuts it down

it doesn’t hurt your feelings of course. you understand that everyone has their secrets and no one is entitled to his, but it does hurt a little that he doesn’t seem like he wants to tell you since you thought you were getting pretty close as friends

oftentimes at the end of a stressful week, you find some movie on some streaming service and crash on the couch with snacks littering the coffee table. sometimes dan heng will come join you on the couch to whatever movie you put on, regardless of genre. rom com? he’s got his eyes glued to the screen. some environmental documentary about the gas leaks that effect a underprivileged community? he’s sat next to you nodding his head to the tv like a middle aged dad

most of the time you fall asleep in the middle of these movies and most of the time when you wake up in the middle of the night you either find yourself covered with a fluffy blanket or you find yourself in your bed with no memory of how you got there. you suspect dan heng carried you there, but you’ve never had the courage to ask him

there was one time when you woke up from sleeping in the middle of the movie and the tv was left on to the end credit scene. you reach for the remote next to you and turn off the tv. you start to shift a little but then you notice a weight next to you, it’s your roommate. he’s got an arm around your waist and he’s pulling you closer to him

you’re too tired to properly comprehend the situation so you let it happen. you lean your head towards his chest and end up falling asleep listening to dan heng’s heartbeat. when dan heng woke up that morning realizing what had happened, he could not look you in the eye for a week without blushing

he also takes care of you whenever you come home shitfaced from an outing or get shitfaced by yourself with 3 bottles of soju. it doesn’t happen often and you try not to drink often, but when you decide to go out, dan heng somehow knows that you’ve been out drinking and will always be at home waiting for your return

your friends drop you off at your apartment and dan heng helps you into bed. he takes a baby wipe and wipes off any dirt on your face. he’s so gentle with it that it honestly feels like a dream. you lowkey cherish it every single time, it feels so intimate that you wish he meant it in that way and not as just a friend

just as you’re losing consciousness, dan heng gets close to you but your vision is slightly blurring so you’re not sure what he’s up to, but you trust dan heng 100% to not take advantage of you

as you scrunch your eyebrows you feel something soft press against your cheek and then once again on your forehead. they’re brief and short, but you can feel your body get hotter and hotter, not even sure if it’s the alcohol or dan heng (or both maybe)

you pray that your big crush on him isn’t obvious but march tells you otherwise. so now you only hope that dan heng can’t tell but honestly it’s really hard to read his feelings, but you’re not sure how long you can keep up this “he’s just my roommate” act to your friends and yourself

#honkai star rail x reader #dan heng x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #dan heng hsr #dan heng headcanons #dan heng honkai star rail #milk.txt

[pix3lplays]

Hii, could you do a jing yuan x wife!reader where the wife is struck with Mara and he has to kill her?

Wow that’s really, really painful … Let’s do it >:)

Cw! Violence

-Jing Yuan’s wife!reader is mara-struck-

Jing Yuan noticed the signs early, he knew what they were, he’s seen it before, in his soldiers, the signs of transformation… Your eyes had a yellow tint to them, you were coughing a lot more often, struggling to get around, almost bedridden… He knew what it meant. But he denied it. He took you to healers, pretended you were going to be okay, told himself you were going to be okay. Until one day, while you’re laying in bed, you make him promise you something… “If I become mara-struck…promise to kill me, alright?” He reaches out in the darkness, and takes your cold hand, and kisses it. “Don’t speak like that, my dear,” he says quietly. “Promise me,” you beg, feeling your breath hitch in your throat. It was becoming so hard to breathe with all the mara in your system. “Alright…I promise,” he says, once he realizes you’re serious. But he doesn’t like it. He wishes he hadn’t promised, but what choice did he have? A few days later, it happens. He gets home from work, calls out to you, and the only noise he hears in response is soft, pained groaning. He grips his Guan Dao, follows the sound, finds you, crouched on the floor. You reek of mara, your body twisted and corrupted, but he recognizes you. He’d recognize you anywhere, any form. “Y/n…” he breathes out, his grip on his Guan Dao tightening. “Y/n…no…” he doesn’t know what to do. He knows what he promised, but- “Kill…me…” you beg, your voice mangled almost beyond recognition, but the command comes through clear enough for him. He knows it’s useless to try to talk to you, but he can’t help it. Your his wife… “I’m so sorry…I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you,” he’s saying, readying his Guan Dao. This was impossible. He can’t believe what he’s about to do. With one swift moment, he stabs you through, and you bleed gold, all over the floor, the Guan Dao as he pulls his weapon out of your body. He collapses on the floor next to you, not caring about the golden blood gushing all over him from you. He holds your distorted body closely against his chest, letting you bleed on him. He takes your hand, kisses it, apologizes over and over again, begging that this was just some horrible nightmare that he’d awaken from, and it would turn out you were never sick, it was all just a bad dream… But he doesn’t wake up. You’re bleeding out in his arms, and it is all too real.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #my writing #Jing Yuan #Jing Yuan x reader #hsr Jing Yuan x reader #honkai star rail Jing Yuan x reader

[eclipsedrgn]

He's my everything

Pair: 2k12 Leonardo x Rise!Reader

Summary: The Rise!Turtles are happy they found you alive and healthy, but how would they feel when you tell them you're not coming home.

Warning: confusion on who's who

Part 1 | Part 2

"You're all here" You softly spoke.

You bent down to the best of your ability to help the Turtles from the Rise Universe to stand. Mona who was the closest to you, since she came out to greet you as well, came over to help. Rise Turtles stared at you in shock, tearing up at the thought of you being alive, you gave them a soft smile when they broke.

"(Y/n)!" Mikey wails as he brings his arms around you. Raph even Donnie hugged you tightly.

Rise Leo stared at you from afar, Amelia holding his arm and another hand on his shell balancing him. He watches as you held his brothers tightly crying as you reunited.

"Go hug her" Amelia whispers to him.

"I can't" Rise Leo whispers back, "I don't have the rights anymore"

"We're gonna need to talk when we get back" Amelia says as her and April walk forward to hug you as well.

2k12 Donnie had Rise Turtles sit in their living room to explain their situation, seeing as they've gone through it from (Y/n)'s arrival.

"- We might be able to find why the portals have been opening" 2K12 Donnie says. "We'll have to head to the kraang facilities to check it out"

"THE KRAANG!" Rise Turtles exclaims.

(Y/n) flinched at the loud noise as she chuckles, completely forgetting how the kraang from her world is too scary as the dumbasses kraangs from this world.

"The Kraangs left earth long ago, they haven't been back and even if they do they won't stand a chance" you said.

"Yeah, we sent them out to the universe" 2K12 Raph boasted.

"What (Y/n) told us, your Kraang was pretty aggressive and scary" 2k12 Mikey explains. "Our Kraang is pretty dumb"

"Can't even speak proper english after being here on earth for the longest time" Kat says crossing her arms.

"Okay, Donnie. You and plus other world Donnie and Raph find the facilities and check in with me. The others can stay here, the less the better. We won't attract attention to unknown enemies" 2k12 Leo commands.

"Whoa, whoa you can't order your brothers like that!" Rise Leo exclaims. "You aren't leader"

"Actually I am" 2k12 Leo replies, "I've always been leader to my brothers. Splinter chose me"

"Leo has some middle child nonsense going on" (Y/n) jokes as she walks towards the kitchen.

"In that case, Donnie and Raph go. The faster we find the weapon or sort, the fast we go home" Rise Leo says. "We can't wait for you to come home with us (Y/n)"

2k12 Turtles stopped their actions hearing that sentence, you weren't even planning on going back. You have your life here. You love your world's turtles but the turtles who found you has made their way to your heart. They made you who you are now.

"Leon, I can't go home with you guys" you softly said.

"Why not? Clearly we found you and you belong to our world" Rise Leo responds.

"I... Leon" you stuttered not knowing what to say, or how to break it to him.

"You don't wanna go home with us?" Rise Mikey asks.

You gave him a soft smile, "I have a family here, I built my life for the past three years. I don't wanna leave"

"But we're your family" Rise Raph begs.

You grabbed the hem of your shirt as you slowly lifted up, showing a small but noticable bump on your usual flat stomach.

You caressed your belly as you smiles, "I'm pregnant Mikey, I can't go back with you guys"

The Rise Universe's jaw drops at the revelation. How were pregnant this early in your life and let's not forget, you came here to this world three years ago. Damn, you move on fast.

"W-Who...?" Rise April asks, not even sure she wants answers to her questions.

2k12 Leo came behind (Y/n) as he places his hands on her bump, the Rise Universe practically got a lightbulb lit up as they piece the puzzle together. They now notice the shiny silver oval diamond ring coated in blue on your finger and a makeshift ring around 2k12 Leo's neck.

You have both gotten married within the three years, and now your welcoming your first child into the world.

The Rise Universe snap from their thoughts as they congratulated you, but Leo.

Rise Leonardo stood there in silence.

Amelia could practically hear her relationship cracking into broken pieces.

You found your home.

They knew...

They couldn't take it away from you anymore.

#crossover #tmnt x reader #tmnt 2012 x reader #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt leo 2012 #tmnt leo x oc

[icey--stars]

Can you do a major sub azriel?

Would You Like to Play Tonight?

Azriel x Reader, Sub!Azriel word count: 1.3k

anon, all you had to do was ask. YES. omg a thousand times yes i love writing sub!az you have no idea. (if you're looking for more sub!az after this, you can also check out "Something New" from my Azris Week fics!)

ANYWAY, i really hope you like it!! its not my best work, but not my worst either!

WARNING: NSFW CONTENT AHEAD! MINORS DNI. 18+ (Bondage, slight Dom/Sub relationship, begging, overstim and orgasm denial)

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

I smirked wide as Azriel came into the bedroom at last. He paused when he saw me, obviously blown away by the sight of his mate in a set of fancy red lingerie.

“Welcome back home baby,” I cooed.

Azriel’s jaw dropped open as I sat up, arching my back perfectly so he could see the cleavage on my chest. He tried to close it, but looked to be at a loss for words.

“Come here,” I ordered, patting the space on the bed beside me. “And take off your shoes and shirt.”

He moved faster than lightning, untying his boots and throwing them haphazardly to the side and then tearing his leathers and shirt off quickly, moving toward the bed quickly. He lifted his leg to climb on, but I put my head up looking at him.

He paused, staring at me with a desperate sort of look. I glanced down at his thigh where his weapons still glinted.

“No weapons in bed, Azriel,” I chastised.

Azriel looked down as if he only just realized he still had Truth-Teller and a barrage of other weapons still on him. Then he quickly began unbuckling them and setting them on his dresser, and then climbed on the bed, laying on his side before me, gazing down at my chest with his eyes wide.

“Would you like to play tonight, Az?” I asked, putting a hand around his head to thread my fingers into the hair on the back of his skull.

He swallowed and answered roughly, “Please.”

I grinned and then turned to climb on top of him, letting him shift his wings behind him. “Are you going to be a good boy?”

He nodded, his mouth halfway open as he looked up at me with pupils that were blown wide open with arousal. The scent in the air was intoxicating.

“Ah,” I said, sharpening my tone and putting a hand on his chest. “You know you have to answer me aloud.”

“Yes, mistress,” Azriel answered, looking up at me with awe in his gaze. “I’ll be a good boy.”

I chuckled, grinning wildly. I loved the control I had over this male. “Good,” I praised. “Now put your hands toward the bed frame.”

I climbed off of him to reach into the first drawer of the bedside table, grabbing the silken rope we had stored there for all of our fun. Azriel had obeyed of course. He didn’t want to try and anger his mistress so early into the game. If he was going to break a rule, he would have to wait until I was more… susceptible to giving in.

I expertly tied his wrists together, and then to the bed frame. Azriel had taught me the knots himself. The male pulled experimentally at the binds, and with him distracted for that split second, I dived down to kiss him hard.

He whimpered into my mouth, readily opening up and letting me explore his mouth with my tongue. Even if I already had it memorized, it still felt incredibly good to have trained him so well. To give in so easily to every touch.

I pulled away after a few seconds of reveling in his soft lips and grinned as he whimpered again, his eyes flickering open to silently beg for more.

“What do you want, baby?” I asked.

“Please touch me,” he begged. “I’ve been good.”

I hummed, sitting up so that my ass rested right on the obvious erection in his pants. “I suppose you have been quite good,” I mused. I felt his hips twitch under me in the smallest attempt to try and relieve the ache likely pulsing under me. “How would you like to be touched? Do you want my mouth on you? My hands?”

“Your mouth, please,” Azriel answered.

“You’ve learned since last time,” I noted. Last time, he kept forgetting to add the world ‘please’ onto his requests. He was doing so much better. “I suppose I should give you a reward for that.”

Azriel looked hopeful at that.

“Alright,” I allowed, and shifted further down the bed. “Lift your hips for me, love.”

Azriel obeyed immediately, pushing his hips up off the bed so I could pull his pants and underwear off them and then helpfully pulled both feet out of his pants so I could throw the clothing off the side of the bed.

I focused my attention on his hips then, seeing his weeping cock settled against his abs.

“Aw,” I cooed. “You look so needy like this, Azriel. So desperate for me.”

Azriel looked down at me, only further solidifying what I’d said with the desire shining in his eyes.

I seductively leaned down, making sure to give my mate a good show of my cleavage as I put a hand around his dick and lifted it up toward my mouth to kitten-lick at the tip.

He whimpered, tugging at his bindings again.

“Stay still,” I ordered and took the tip into my mouth, sucking hard. Azriel let out a low moan at the feeling, his muscles tensing to hold himself back from thrusting into my mouth like I knew he wanted to.

I took him deeper by increments, stretching my own throat out and focusing on my breathing to give my mate as much overwhelming pleasure as possible. His moans were music to my ears.

When I heard his noises getting higher pitched, a tell-tale sign of him getting close, I pulled back, causing a loud whine to erupt from his lips.

“Aw,” I cooed. “Were you close?”

He nodded, a tear sliding down his cheek. “Please,” he begged. “Please.”

“Oh baby…” I said softly, running a hand up his body to cup his cheek. He leaned into the touch, looking so desperate. It was like a drug I was addicted to. I just needed more of that look. “Your mistress wants you to come inside of her tonight. So you’re going to be a good boy for me and wait until I give you permission.”

Azriel whimpered.

“Are you going to listen?” I asked, sliding up his body again to straddle his hips and slide his cock between my legs, catching on the wet fabric of my panties. Oh, my pleasure didn’t matter when I could make Azriel like this after a hard day of being spymaster.

“Yes, mistress. I’ll be a good boy,” Azriel managed to get out through his heavy breathing.

“Then let your mistress tease you like she wants,” I growled and pulled off my panties and began running my wetness down his cock.

Azriel whined, high and needy.

I leaned down to nipple at his earlobe, and moved down to lick and suck at his neck.

“Will you let your mistress pet your wings?” I asked as I pulled back.

Azriel’s eyes widened and he whimpered, tugging at his restraints. “Please.”

Oh, music to my fucking ears.

I moved one of my hands to dance lightly down the humerus bone of his wing, going all the way up to the main joint and scratching gently at the skin around the claw.

Azriel moaned, baring his neck as he tilted his head back. I hummed as I saw him clench his jaw, pausing my movements. “Azriel,” I said.

He barely managed to lift his head to look at me.

“Would you rather hold your orgasm back or do you want me to let you?” I asked. “But I’m not stopping until I come.”

Azriel panted, blinking slowly, but didn’t reply.

I smirked at how undone he was. “Tell me, or I will choose for you,” I threatened. “And either way you’re going to beg for me.”

Azriel groaned. “Let me come,” he decided, his voice rough from the moaning. “Please, mistress.”

I smirked and immediately upon his decision, pressed roughly right into one of the sensitive places on his wings, eager to see him come undone.

Azriel jerked and then screamed as warm cum splashed onto both of us. I grinned and continued to touch his wings, not stopping even as he jerked in overstimulation.

“I’m nowhere near done with you,” I growled in his ear and reached back to angle him to slip inside of my cunt.

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

Tagged in all ACOTAR Stories: @bunnymallowo, @officiallyunofficialperson, @margssstuff, @rebloggiest-reblogger, @inpraizeof, @graciereads, @eos-princess, @bubybubsters,

Tagged in all Azriel Stories: @ladylokilaufeyson5, @marina468,

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #azriel #azrielxreader #azriel x reader #sub!azriel #smut #acotar smut #azriel smut #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Weaponize anything

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)  

Alien: Is that a sword on your back? Human: Why yes it is. Alien: How stupid are you? Alien: We have literal laser guns, and you think a sword will stop us? Human: Normally no. Human: But that was until we put lasers on these as well. Alien: Wait, what? Human: *Rushes alien with space laser sword* ----------------------

Alien: What is that lump of metal in your hand? Human: A weapon. Alien: What kind of weapon? Human: Sonic. Alien: You use sound as a weapon? Human: And a torture device some times. Alien: What? Human: Trust me. Human: If I play the baby shark song fifty times you’ll be begging me for death. ------------------------- Alien: Do I even want to know? Human: Lightning cannon. Human: It shoots random streaks of concentrated electricity in the direction you point it in. Alien: Wouldn’t that make it highly inaccurate? Human: When you fire a weapon this cool does it really matter if you hit what you want? Alien: Yes. Alien: Yes it does. ----------------------------

Human: Want to see my magnet gun? Alien: What could possibly be deadly about a magnet? Human: *Points it at random nearby alien and fires it.* *Target alien begins convulsing violently as all the microscopic metal fragments in their body are ripped out and pool together in a ball of gore* Human: I like to call it the “Therapy Gun” myself, because once you use it you just know you’re going to need some serious treatments to get over these mental scars. ---------------------------

Alien: Did your sword just twitch? Human: Huh? Oh yeah. Human: *Pulls out sword* Human: I made this by forging sentient metal into a blade. Alien: Sentient metal? Human: We ran into these rock like aliens a while ago and one of them was made literally of metal. Human: So I used a shard of them to forge this blade. Alien: Is it also sentient? Human: Not sure. Human: Although when I hold it I can hear a voice in my head telling me to kill everyone. Alien: I think you’ve had enough fun with the magic death sword. ------------------ Alien: Please stop inventing weapons. Human: But we just made time altering ammunition. Alien: Oh gods. Human: By using some unstable particles, when you get hit by these it’ll reverse age you backwards by a random amount. Human: One second you’ll be fighting a thousand year old matriarch and the next you’ll be watching a child break their collarbone when the weapon recoil damn near takes their arm off. Alien: I’m not even surprised at this point…. Human: Really? Guess we aren’t trying hard enough. Alien: Wait, NO! --------------- Alien: Our weapons are useless! Alien: We fire at those ghostly beings but our bullets just pass right through them! Human: Use these. *Tosses custom made weapon* Human: They fire concentrated energy beams at randomized frequencies, meaning that the entities won’t have time to alter their bodies fast enough to allow the projectiles through them without causing damage. Alien: Why do you have these on hand? Human: You’d be surprised how often we’ve had to kill ghosts on our home planet the same way. Alien: Your people have killed….ghosts? Human: Well, some people wanted to humanly capture and release them so we had to do that for a while. Human: They had a catchy theme song and logo. -------------------- Human: Fire in the hole! *Chucks grenade* Aliens: *Braces for explosion* *No explosion* Alien: What kind of grenade was that? Human: Pheromone grenade. Alien: What do those do? *Hears loud screaming coming from enemy and alien looks up* *Enemy are covered in swarming insects that are slowly devouring them* Human: Mostly provide nightmare fuel or a crazy weekend in vegas depending on the strain. -------------------------- Alien: I see the enemy are very afraid of that new cannon you brought. Alien: What does it fire exactly? Human: *Shrugs* Depleted uranium canisters mostly. Alien: What in florps name!?! Human: I know, right? Human: Either the sheer kinetic force will kill them, or the still radioactive shrapnel that’ll cover them after these canisters burst against their target. Alien: Are you not concerned about the horrific environmental damage you are doing? Human crew: *Looks at each other and shrugs* Human: It’s not our planet.

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #funny #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01

[jaehunnyy]

Ride or die

☆ SECOND ENDING OF TAKE A CHANCE ON ME ☆ (please read that first for it to make sense ^^)

Genre: a bit of action, crack, fluff, strangers to lovers

Word count: 1.2k

Pairing: cowboy!Mingi x gn!reader

Warnings: swear words, mentions of weapons, bullets, someone is being killed (but he's a villain), time skip but they are in love, pet names, broken humour, possible grammar mistakes

Taglist: @shakalakaboomboo, @pocketjoong-reads, @nebulousbrainsoup, @justhere4kpop, @bluehwale, @bluisheye93, @ssaboala, @i-luvsang, @ad0rechuu

Networks: @cromernet 🤍

Tiredness seemed to take the best of you, so you did what you thought was best; went home. You didn't want to spend your non-existent energy on some guy you just met and seemed to have beef with right away—and despite Mingi being another unknown face you happened to meet, you couldn't lie, but he kinda had you wrapped around his finger. The little kiss on your cheek had butterflies dancing inside your stomach, and you just wanted to get to know him better, to see the mysterious cowboy again. You let your steps guide you on the well-known path to your house, an exhausted smile stretching your lips as you saw the familiar building. You got inside right away and threw yourself on the couch, falling asleep while thinking about the sharp eyes under his brown hat.

The next morning came almost immediately, the sunset having you in front of the bar you worked at while you inspected the door. Fuck, did I forget to lock the door? Did someone break into this place? You were overwhelmed. When you tried unlocking the door with the keys only you owned, the door opened without any effort. You stepped cautiously inside, grabbing a vase full of flowers from some shelf—you needed to be prepared. You tried to keep as silent as possible, yet a sharp scream left your mouth the moment someone covered your eyes.

"Shhh, doll, it's just me." he whispered in your ear, planting a kiss there as he smiled and you turned to face him.

"You scared the fuck out of me. Why are you here so early? And how did you get here?"

"I'm good with lock picking. And I couldn't let you clean alone, I wanted to surprise you."

"Such a well-mannered assassin, who would have thought?" you said, getting on your tiptoes to press a kiss on his cheek.

He smirked, tucking some hair strands under your ear as he said: "I'm good with people who deserve my kindness."

"What if you used it against them instead? You know, as one would say, kill 'em with kindness."

"That is just overrated, doll." he said, laughter escaping from his lips, making you giggle at how beautiful he sounded.

He sounded pure, and you truly hoped you could get to know him better, to see what was hidden under his crazy assassin persona. You didn't know what had gotten into you, and what made you feel so safe with a criminal; yet, in a world full of cruelty, Mingi begged to differ.

"Should I come pick you up when your shift's over? We can have a nice walk around the city."

"I… would actually love that, Min."

Min. What a silly nickname, yet how happy he felt when it was coming from you.

The time of freedom has finally come, and Mingi kept his promise; there you were, walking hand in hand, his hat on your head as you admired how the wind messed up his pink hair. You thought it was cute—the way he put some of his accessories on you, turning you into a mini-him, he was truly cute and one day was enough for you to see his true self. You two stopped at a river near the city, surrounded by imposing trees and covered in the darkness of the night.

"I usually come here to clear my mind a bit, it's quite a safe place for me," Mingi spoke, looking at you as you were excitedly admiring the surroundings: "And you're the first person I have ever brought here."

His words finally brought you back to reality, making you look at him as he smiled at you.

"What did you say?" you dared, raising an eyebrow as his lips curled into a playful smirk.

"Nothing, doll." he shrugged, facing the river and taking in the scenery.

You started to walk around, hearing several shifting sounds as you approached some trees. You could swear you saw some silhouettes behind them, but you thought it was just your imagination; yet when you saw a man pointing a gun at Mingi's unguarded back, you decided it was time to take matters into your own hands. Thus, you went next to Mingi, pretending to hug him, your hand slipping close to his gun holster. You took the revolver and pushed Mingi aside, closing your eyes and pulling the trigger—the reverberating sound of the gunfire filled your ears, the only things you heard after were some screams, the outlaws shouting "Let's run" to each other while they disappeared in the darkness.

Mingi was astonished by what had just happened, way too fast for his relaxed state of mind, as this used to be his safe space.

"Did I… did I just kill him?"

"I'm afraid we gotta hide the body now, love."

"I'm… will the police search for me too now?"

"Nah, babes. You're safe with me." he said, his hands finding their way around your waist, holding you close to him. "You saved my life, thank you."

"I guess we're even now, Min."

Maybe life as an outlaw wasn't as bad as it seemed, especially since you had Mingi by your side. You were on your way to meet his friend, Hongjoong, your body now clothed in a leather outfit, similar to Mingi's.

"Are you nervous?"

"To meet Hongjoong? Pfff, not at all. I might say I'm more scared of meeting his goat friend than him."

Mingi couldn't help but let out a loud laugh, imagining how offended Joong would act at your silly joke. Perhaps that's what made him fall in love with you so easily—yet, when you heard Hongjoong's imposing voice and noticed his intimidating posture, maybe, just maybe, you felt the need to grip Mingi's hand tighter, eyes locking with his sharp ones as he smiled.

"So, that's our new outlaw?’’ Hongjoong said, lowering the bandana around his mouth just enough so you could see his lips moving.

You looked at Mingi and smiled when he squeezed your hand, bringing it to his lips and placing a chaste kiss on it, making you nod to Hongjoong.

"Pretty skilled if you ask me. We met because I saved their life, yet we were brought together by them saving mine." he said proudly.

Hongjoong smiled brightly at you, forgetting about his tough persona for just bit of time, so you could ease yourself a bit. He then smirked at Mingi, happy stars gathered in his eyes for his friend's achievement—finding himself someone who risked it all for their love, his ride or die. Mingi was also one of a kind; he loved showing you off, be it to his friends, missions, or anything. He loved matching his leather coat and hat to yours, leaving the sweet illusion of the perfect couple, cause you two were near one. And even though your relationship might have been a new one, he was ready to see it bloom into something even more beautiful under his eyes.

"I love you, Y/n." he said, bringing your face closer to his and touching your lips with his.

"I love you too, Min." you said, returning the sweet favor.

"Yah, you two, get a room! Disgusting." the eldest said, yet the smile on his face gave him away for the way his heart jolted in happiness for his friend.

Destiny seemed to have many plans for you and you didn't expect this to be part of your future, yet, even if you were villains in other people's stories, what mattered to you was that you two were the heroes of each other's lives, forever tied by a thread, together.

#kpop oneshots #kpop imagines #ateez oneshot #song mingi imagine #mingi imagines #mingi oneshot #ateez x reader #ateez x you #ateez fluff #mingi fluff #strangers to lovers #kpop fluff #song mingi ateez #ateez au #mingi x you #song mingi x reader #mingi x y/n #mingi x reader

[moonlightazriel]

Son of the Darkness XVII /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: Hidden for so long The court of shadows thrived, and things were great until the high lord's death, now the next in line should assume the crown of high lord of shadows, will he accept his duties?

Warnings: More talks about war.

Word Count: 3,1K

Notes: Y/N Daera is definitely my favorite character and her friendship with Eva is everything to me.

Son of the Darkness Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Y/N stretched her limbs, feeling a wave of anxiety curse through her body, she headed for her bathroom, taking a long shower, her whole body was shaking as she stepped out, dried her body and started to prepare her armour.

The black armour shone in the early morning light, the black fabric that composed the leggings and the long sleeved shirt glued to her body, then she started to assemble the pieces in place, the breastplate, the gloves, the piece above her thighs, the long boots, the shoulder pads that were adorned with two long spikes.

She strapped all her weapons into place, attaching her long sword on her back. Y/N braided her hair, to get it out of the way and be more practical when the time comes. She reached for her helmet, tucking it under her arm, the helmet looked like a crown, it had pointy horns that peaked through her hair, and a v shaped shield above her eyes and nose, two tiny slits for her to see and she was ready to go.

The Sephiran were already working, as she walked to the improvised breakfast area, forcing food down her throat and commanding it to stay inside her belly, her power cursed through her veins, singing for the battle ahead, the tension around the camp was almost palpable. But the true show hasn't even begun yet.

“Did you sleep well?” Ryo asked, biting on an apple.

“As well as you can, knowing that death is just around the corner.”

“Just remember, that we wouldn’t follow anyone else, we trust you to bring us home.” The witch walked out of the tent, leaving Y/N there, thinking about her words, she would bring them home, even if it was the last thing she did.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“If the wall is down, who protects the humans along the border?” Nesta inquired, her hand tapping on Rhysand’s wooden desk.

“No one, we can try but no we might not get there on time.” Feyre paced around, her blue eyes scanning the room.

“Unless…” Elain timidly started, her eyes searching for Azriel’s support, but he wasn’t looking at her, his eyes were glued to the tent’s entry, waiting for a certain General to come back. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I can ask Graysen for his help, he will help humans.”

“He doesn’t know she is fae now, we can put a glamor over her to look human.” Rhys pondered.

“His father has thought about that for years, he can protect the humans behind his walls, he just has to be convinced.” Elain said, her voice timid and barely above a whisper.

“Elain, if you go, and they try to hurt you..” Feyre started.

“He won’t. I know that.” The middle sister smiled, and Feyre took a deep breath. She trusted her sister, but if Graysen tried anything, she wouldn’t hesitate to protect her.

“But if he tries, I’ll protect you, no matter what.” She warned.

“Just don’t kill him.” Elain begged.

“I can’t promise that.” Elain nodded, understanding.

“I’ll go change.” Nesta made an attempt to follow her but she raised a hand. “Nuala and Cerridwen will help me.” With that, she left.

“What do I do now?” Nesta asked, rubbing her forehead, she had been distressed ever since the wall was broken, feeling that it was somehow her fault.

“You come with us, and then we will go to war.” Feyre said, grabbing her sister's hand and pulling her close for a hug, Nesta rested her forehead against her head. “It’s not your fault, Nes, there’s nothing you could’ve done.” The words got stuck in her head, making Nesta squeeze her eyes shut to prevent her from crying.

“Then it’s settled, you guys should get change, dresses aren’t the best flying clothes.” Cassian warned and Nesta looked at him.

“What?”

“You will need to wear pants, sweetheart.” Nesta blinked and Cassian raised an eyebrow. “Any problems with that?”

“I never wore pants before.” She just shrugged.

“Then this should be good.” The general laughed, the sound warming Nesta’s chest, she gave him a small smile, letting Feyre guide her outside.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“Calm down, Az. We will wait for her before we go.” Cassian said, patting Azriel on the back.

“She should be here already.” He looked around the war camp, more soldiers should be there by now, his mate should be there.

“Isn’t that her?” Rhysand pointed, and Azriel followed his finger, his eyes landing on the beautiful female walking towards him, prepared for war.

Thousands of soldiers followed her, coming out of nowhere, Rhysand couldn’t believe his eyes, so many soldiers marching, supplies being dragged with them. The feeling that now they stood a chance against Hybern filled his chest and he smirked. The three Illyrians bowed to the female as she stopped in front of them.

“Hopefully I’m not late.” She joked, as Cassian pulled her in for a hug.

“Do you think I would start the party without you?” The male let her go as his eyes landed on Azriel and his annoyed expression.

“Nah, I would kick your ass if you did.” She bowed to Rhys. “Any news on the others?”

“They’re on their way to our designated place, I shared the info with them last night, they will be there.” She nodded.

“They better be.” Azriel pulled her for a hug, his hands pulling her face up and he gave her a quick peck on the lips. “Are we going somewhere?”

“Elain is going to talk to Graysen, ask him to take humans inside their borders.” Y/N raised an eyebrow at that. “Her human ex fiancé? I’ll tell you the details later.” He winked at her.

“Are you down to scare some humans?” Cassian wiggled his eyebrows, and Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Someone has to take care of these people, but I’ll ask Alais to escort you in case you need some extra magical protection.” Azriel watched his mate walk away and Rhys squeezed his shoulder.

“She’s a natural leader, she will be an amazing High Lady.” Azriel turned to him.

“I know, right? Just hope she accepts it.” Rhys gave him a reassuring smile.

“Are you guys ready?” Feyre asked, appearing from a tent. Cassian let a low whistle as his eyes scanned Nesta.

“Looking good, Archeron.” She blushed under his intense gaze.

“Let’s do this.” Elain said, rubbing her sweaty palms in her pants.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“Hey Y/N.” Ellora approached her, she was trying to talk with the camp lords and her man about moving strategies but no one wanted to listen. “Someone dropped this for you. Said it was urgent.”

“Thanks Ell, I’ll check in a second.” She tucked the paper in her pocket, turning to the males.

“We don’t have to listen to a foreign bitch.” Someone shouted and a couple of males cheered in agreement.

“You’re right, I’m not your General, but either you follow my lead now, or you die if you cross my way.” She drew her long sword, pointing at the man, her lords drawing their weapons as well ready to protect their general.

“Let’s be civil here.” The male she recognized as Devlon intervened. “She’s right, we can’t waste time arguing, we need to march to war, I can feel my blood signing, it’s time to face death.”

“Everyone will laugh in death’s face.” Someone said, bumping their fists on the table.

“Be prepared for the journey boys, we will move tonight.” She warned, nodding to Devlon and going out. She took a deep breath, reaching for the paper.

“Meet me in the border where we first said our goodbyes”

No name, no nothing, but something told her that she knew who it was. She walked around, looking for Eva, finding her preparing her bow.

“Do you need a break?” Eva smiled at that, knowing the look on her best friend’s face.

“I would love to.” She said, placing her bow on her back and her arrow quiver on her shoulder.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“We’ve been waiting here forever.” Nesta groaned, her forehead sticky with sweat, the Illyrian leather glued to her body, and she swat another fly away.

“He won’t deny me.” Elain whispered.

The archers kept aiming their ash arrows in their direction, making Elain shiver in fear, Graysen wouldn’t hurt her, she knew that. A drop of sweat trickled down her spine and she squinted her eyes as she saw the man on a horse approach them.

“He’s coming to see you.” He said as he got close. Elain breathed with relief. “Follow me.”

They allowed them inside the gates, walking in the scorching sun, Elain hoped her glamour wouldn’t falter as they approached the second gate, not a step inside the fortress, they weren’t allowed to see inside, nor the supplies they had.

Her heart almost stopped as she saw Graysen, his eyes shining as he eyed his fiancé, he managed to take a step forward before his father held him back, looking at them with disdain.

“What is this?” He inquired. Elain tried to find the right words to start but Nesta stepped forward.

“The wall is gone.” Her voice was powerful, commanding, Cassian looked at her feeling pride deep within him.

“How?” Lord Nolan asked.

“I was kidnapped.” She continued. “Taken against my will by the army that will invade this property, I was turned forcibly.” She stated and the man looked at her with disgust.

“How?” He repeated.

“There Is a cauldron, a weapon. Give you the power of doing those things, I was merely an experiment.” She finished off with a brief explanation about the mortal queens, Hybern and why the Wall fell.

“And who is your companion?” Lord Nolan asked, focusing on the wrong thing for Mother’s sake. Azriel looked at him with annoyance.

“I’m Feyre Archeron, High Lady of the Night Court.” Feyre stepped forward and the man stepped backwards, taking his son with him. “This is Rhysand, my husband.” She pointed to the male beside her. “This are Morrigan, Cassian, Azriel and Alais.”

Nolan looked at the last one, clearly human, but something about her felt odd, too odd for him to look away.

“Elain, why are you with them?” Graysen asked, his sad eyes glued to her fragile form.

“Cuz she’s our sister.” Nesta protectively stepped closer to her middle sister. “And there’s no safer place for her than by our side.”

“Graysen, please…” Elain begged, a sob escaping her trembling lips. “Please open the gates to whoever's human family that may come here. With the wall gone, we don’t have time for an evacuation and the queen won’t send help, they’re on their own.” Graysen listened to her in silence. His eyes looked at the engagement ring on her finger.

“I would believe you, if you weren’t lying to me since you arrived.” He spat in her direction making Elain flinch.

“Did you really think that you could come here and trick us with your fae magic?” Nolan stepped forward.

“We don’t care about what you think.” Rhys intervened. “We’re just here to ask you to protect those who can’t protect themselves.”

“What do you get? What do you risk?” Nolan inquired.

“Taking in consideration your ash weapons, we’re risking a lot here.” Cassian scoffed.

“So is your sister.” He pointed to Elain.

“Any weapon can kill a mortal.” Mor tried to say but Nolan smirked.

“But Elain Archeron isn’t a mortal, someone told me she was the first one to be made and now she’s the mate of some High Lord’s son.” Elain gasped, feeling Nesta’s hand on hers, gently squeezing in a reassuring grip.

“Who told you that?” Azriel asked.

“I did.” Jurian said, appearing from behind the gate.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Eva asked after having teleported her and Y/N to a green prairie, they walked a few minutes and now they were in a dense forest that wasn’t there before.

“I am, we just need to find something.” She said, looking around, from in between the trees, she saw a spark of bright red hair, walking in her direction. “What a pleasure to see you again, Eris.”

“Ah, you came, and you brought your beautiful friend with you.” He said, pulling Evanore’s hand to his lips in a charming slow kiss, her skin jolted with the touch, her heart thrumming in her chest. Her mate just called her beautiful.

“Why did you call me here?” Y/N said, watching the two like a hawk, he might be her mate, but try anything and he would be dead.

“My father is refusing to gather his soldiers, he doesn’t want to help because of the “offence” of the Night court and that “bastard” claiming himself as a High Lord.” Y/N gripped her dagger tighter at the mention of Azriel.

“And what can we do for you?” Eva asked, and those beautiful eyes turned to her, making her blush under his curious gaze.

“I’ve been secretly reuniting the troops, we’re ready to fight, but I need two things from you.” He looked at Evanore and then at Y/N. “You have to protect my mom, remove her from court before I do anything, her safety is my priority.”

“Considered done.” Y/N said, shifting her weight from a foot to another.

“My father dies in this war.” His voice was low, he shivered as he spoke. “If we’re entering a new world of peace and freedom, I want the same for my family, for my court.”

“And you can’t have that with your father, not when he’s still alive and refusing to help.” Y/N concluded. “So you want us to kill him so you can be high lord?”

“I don’t care who will be high lord. My brothers and I, we’re not like that, not because we really want to, all we do is try to protect our mother.” Evanore reached for his hand, squeezing it and Eris allowed, feeling relaxed as her fingers brushed his hand.

“Looks like we’ll be celebrating a lot after this war.” Y/N said. “Let’s discuss how we’re going to do it.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“I’m here alone, stop growling.” Jurian said, hands in the air in surrender.

“When he got here, Jurian told me what was done to the both of you, and what the Queens wanted.” Nolan spoke again, less tense in Jurian’s presence.

“Why are you here?” Azriel asked, controlling the urge to kill him, Jurian worked with Hybern, he should be ended before he gave away more information to that vile monster.

Jurian took a deep breath before he started to explain his reasons, about the mortal queens, and Hybern, even talking about how he never meant to hurt Miriam and Drakon, he wanted to find them to apologise, he was just playing his role very well.

“You should’ve looked into my mind.” Jurian smiled. “I wanted you to look, to see that I would never ally myself with that monster.”

“I didn’t want to see her.” He didn’t need to say the name for them to tremble at the thought of Amarantha.

“Are you telling us that you’ve been on our side this whole time?” Morrigan asked, her face frozen in a shocked expression.

“What’s a better place to tear the enemy apart than inside out?” She scoffed in disbelief, Jurian was really on their side.

“Why now? Why here?” Cassian inquired.

“Cuz the wall is gone and I can freely move around the mortal lands.” Jurian took a deep breath. “Cuz Tamlin ran away to Hybern and told everything he heard in your little meeting.” Everyone gasped, they expected it, but it didn’t hurt any less. “They’re in Spring Court, and right now Hybern is planning an attack on Summer Court by tomorrow.” Jurian finished.

“Then we have to go, now.” Rhys shouted.

“I’ll stay, to give them some wards.” Alais said, not asked. Nolan was smart enough to just let her pass and start doing her thing. “Tell Rune that I’ll meet her tomorrow.” Rhys nodded, winnowing away to the House of Wind.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“So Eva goes with you, sneaks your mother out to the Night Court, and then takes your army to our location.” Y/N finished.

“Basically.” Eris agreed, still feeling unsure about letting his mom alone at the Night Court.

“We have just the perfect place for her, she will be taken care of.” Eva reassured him, feeling his distress through the bond.

“WE NEED TO GO NOW, THEY'RE ATTACKING THE SUMMER COURT TOMORROW.” The warning in Rhysand’s loud voice startled Y/N, she looked at the two.

“Whatever we’re doing, needs to be done now.” Eris looked at her.

“What’s wrong?”

“They’re on their way to crush the Summer Court.” She answered.

“You wait here, we will be right back.” Eva said, grabbing Eris’s hand and the two winnowed away.

Y/N assumed a fighting instance, ready to protect herself, agonising minutes passed when Evanore appeared again, a female that looked like Eris and a bit older with her. Not giving her any time for introductions, Evanore teleported to the House of Wind, right in the middle of the inner circle, who frantically argued.

“What the fuck?” Rhysand said, eyeing the three females, his eyes wide as he spotted Lady Autumn. “What the fuck did you two do?”

“We got the Autumn Court army.” Y/N said, in a staring match with him, she wouldn’t back away from a decision that would be beneficial for them.

“This is Aurelia, Lady of the Autumn Court, byeee.” Evanore said, teleporting back to Eris.

“Thank you for letting me stay.” Her calm voice matched her calming features.

“I’ll explain later.” Y/N said, waving her hands to them, who looked at her like she was crazy. “We need to move that army now.”

“Lady Aurelia, a server will tend to you, you’re more than welcome to stay here.” Feyre said, taking the female away.

“Are you insane? Beron will freak out.” Rhys marched towards her, Y/N held her head high.

“Well, then I don’t think it’s a good idea to tell you that we’re conspiring with his son to steal his army and kill him.” Rhys gasped.

“Yep, you are insane.” He rolled his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Don’t worry, I know how to make it look like an accident.” She winked and Rhys left out a giggle.

“Of course you do.” Azriel approached his mate, creating some distance between her and Rhysand.

“She just changed the tides of this war, we need to stop arguing and get moving to the Summer Court now.” He ordered and Rhys nodded.

“He’s right, I’m sorry.” Y/N shook her head at him in dismissal. “We have an army to slay.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Taglist: @allison-rosewood-maximoff @devilsfoodcake22 @fieldofdaisiies @valeridarkness @brekkershadowsinger @margssstuff

#acotar #azriel shadowsinger #sarahjmaas #azriel #moonlightazriel #shadowsinger #azriel x reader #night court #azriel x y/n #velaris #son of the darkness #azriel x you #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster

[channiesdelululand]

Taste of You

NSFW Hyunjin x Reader

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI!, Unprotected Sex, Slight choking, Begging

Summary: Hyunjin has been very busy but takes the night off for you. 

It’s been 5 days since comeback but you’ve had taste playing on loop every night while you clean and make the house look good for your love Hyunjin. He has been working so hard during this comeback. 

As you twirl around in his shirt, that swallows your tiny frame, and a pair of light blue lace panties you don’t even hear the front door open. 

Hyunjin walks in instantly smiling as he quietly watches you dance to his voice. Everyone knew who that song was written about. The love of his life, his muse, his everything, you. 

After a few moments Hyunjin clears his throat to which you being startled grab the closets thing to which was one of your long  decorative holiday pillow you absolutely refuse to put away even in the middle of summer. 

“Oh my god! Jinnie you are supposed to be at stage practice!”

Hyunjin was so beautiful but even more so after work. The way his face glistened from  left over sweat, his eyes always so bright and glimmering when he looks at you. His tall stature so effortlessly floating over you. Lowering your ‘weapon’. 

“Binnie left early tonight so spend some time with Sky and Chan thought it might be nice for all of us to have the night off. So I hurried home to you.” Brushing your hair behind your ear and placing a soft kiss on your cheek. “I’ve missed you so much Princess.”

Music still on loop in the back ground he takes your hands twirling you around, lazily dancing you around the living room. Lightly lifting one arm up letting go of your hand to lightly grace your arm with his long fingers trailing down placing light kisses along where his hand was touching. Something out of a sweet romance scene.

Hyunjin was always so soft, until he wasn’t, he knew how to make you feel so many different ways. 

“Look at how pretty you are in my clothes, and wearing my favorite panties too?”

You had already been turned on all day as you had been streaming all of the new videos for views. Seeing hyunjin with his new haircut had you feening for him 24/7. It was as if he could sense it because as sweet and soft as he was being, he quickly pulled you in by the small of your back gripping your back. 

You let out a quick gasp. “I’m so happy you got to come early Jinnie I’ve missed you too.”

Hyunjin returns your sweet response with a few kisses to your pretty face, traveling down to your neck laying one or 2 soft pecks before nibbling and sucking along your throat. He liked doing this, leaving marks to make sure everyone knew who you belonged to.

Shivers already going down your spine because you knew what was next. He was so flawless at everything he did, but knowing your body? It was as if he was God himself when you were created, he worked magic. 

Small cat like licks on the dark red marks he had created. Bringing his hands down and under the shirt he traveled up to your breast twisting and pulling your nipples every so slightly. Not too hard just enough to hear you whine his name. 

He loved watching you crumble and melt from his own doing. Nothing turned him on more than your body’s need for him. It was as if only he could satisfy your body’s desire. And he would be correct. 

Lifting your shirt just enough for your nipple to be seen, hyunjin replaces his hands with his mouth, teasing with his teeth and sucking until those too became sensitive and red. Honestly you could cum with this stimulation alone. You already had your hands running through his hair making soft fists as you let out little moans and whimpers of pleasure 

You had truly missed this. The boys had been so busy with comeback that you were long asleep by the time hyunjin got home and he was long gone but my the time you woke up. So much pent up frustration. 

You can feel your body start to get overwhelmed you need him to touch more, really you need him in you.

“Jinnie, please” you finally find real words to say. 

“Please what princess, I need you to use words. You can’t already be a blabbering mess.”

“Please I need you to touch more of me. I need you so badly.”

God he really had you a mess before he even started to really have his way with you. 

With his sexy devilish going he stood up all the way and grabbed your chin looking up at him. 

“Well since you asked so nicely, let’s go to the bedroom.”

Once in the bedroom Hyunjin promptly lifted your shirt all the way stopping to admire the markings he left. Then quickly snatched the thin piece of fabric that was between him and the rest of your beautiful body. 

Quickly removing his own shirt and work out sweats revealing his entire gorgeously defined body.

You do a quick move that drives hyunjin absolutely insane taking your very evident wetness in your hand and using that to Stroke him. He loves it when you do that, he returns the favor by sticking 2 fingers deep inside curling up to hit you perfectly. As he does this he holds you by your  throat with the other hand bringing your mouth to his. 

So passionately he continues to kiss you as you each moan into each other. Getting high off the arousal of the other. 

Once hyunjin can feel you are starting to tighten around his fingers he removes them from you. 

You start to mumble but nothing real comes out. Legs still wrapped around his waist you pull him in. 

“I need you in me now.” You finally get it out. 

Finally feeling his cock bottom out inside of you, you let out the loudest moan. 

“Yeah baby? Louder I want to hear my name.” 

With perfect rhythm in and out, 

“Oh my god, Hyu n jin, yes God.” 

The way his cock felt in you had you seeing stars. 

“You feel so good around me Princess, you take me so well.” The look of pure lust in those gorgeous eyes looking down at you. Using his hands on your breast as he watches them go up and down with every thrust. 

Lowering him self to lay on top of you chest touching he leans into your ear which still thrusting in and out on tempo not missing a beat. 

“Fuck you I love you so much, I’ve missed this body. My beautiful girl. I just want to make you feel so good.”

You can start to feel Hyunjins cock twitch inside you and the chopped breaths and loud moans coming from him made you know he wouldn’t last much longer. You were to good around him, he was about to finish.

“Can I cum Hyunnie? Please make me cum.”

He loved when you asked permission. 

“What ever my sweet princess wants.” 

“Fuck please right there, Hyunjin please. Please don’t stop.”

He hit the spot perfect over and over and over while the feelings built and built until you reached the top. Waves crashing through your body. Hyunjin having cum along with you continued to lightly thrust back and forth helping you ride your orgasm as long as you could. 

Pulling out, your mixed juices spilling out underneath you.  

Hyunjin collapses beside you, on his stomach he props himself up to kiss your nose. 

“God you really are so beautiful my angel, I’m so happy I get to spend the evening with you.”

With that he helps you to the shower, you both clean up get into Jammie’s and order in for movies and cuddling. 

#straykidssmut #straykids #smut #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin #skz #skz smut #stray kids smut #fanfic taste

[greencways]

Fic Name: forever and always

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau X Reader

Words: 825

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, reader gets shot and is in hospital, mentions of gun violence and kidnapping, and death

Content: Y/N and JJ are paired in a case but reader gets shot and ends up in hospital

A/N: it’s not as angsty as it sounds I promise

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"JENNIFER" was the last thing you remembered shouting to her before you passed out on the floor.

It started out as a normal day, JJ goes over the case files, you all go around the table figuring out who the profiler could be (it was normally a male in his early thirties to forties), Emily would tell you wheels up, stay at a hotel until you solved the case and you would go home to an empty apartment, that was the plan at least, but the day had other plans.

"Emily, Luke and Derek take the front door, JJ, and Y/N take the side door, and Spencer, Matt, and Tara take the back" Hotch directs.

"We got him" JJ whispered into her earpiece a little while later as they explored more of the house.

"He's in the kitchen come here now." You begged noticing he was armed.

You and JJ nodded to each other and tried to talk him into putting the weapon her was currently holding over the victim.

You and JJ always had something, it was a strange connection, a strange understanding that even though you had only been on this team for 7 months, you had known each other for years, decades even, sure JJ was the one who you first met walking into the BAU doors for the first time, sure she was the one who introduced everyone to you, the first to check up on you after your first rough case, the first one to do EVERYTHING and you loved it, JJ was more than a best friend to you, hell you could never tell her, what if she wasn't gay? What if she liked someone else on the team? What if she laughed in your face? Even thinking of it brought an embarrassed red flush to the previous light pink blush that was once there, there was absolutely no way you were telling Jennifer Jareau you were in love with her.

"Let her go" JJ's voice bought you out of your trance suddenly remembering where you were.

"She needs to suffer, just like I did" The unsub sounded desperate at this point.

You couldn't handle it anymore, it was too much like your first case, that case will never leave you, the unsub killed himself and the victim, you needed to throw up, it was the worst thing you had ever seen, granted it was your first time in the field, but everyone else watched in expressions of horror as they saw what happened.

"LET ELLIE GO" It was pathetic, your voice trembled, JJ, the unsub, and Ellie all turned their heads at the same time.

"Only on one condition" His lips cornered into a smile.

"Okay, wha-" You didn't have time to finish your sentence before you realised what was happening, you were shot, in the shoulder, inches away from near death.

You went down so fast, JJ running behind you "Agent down" her voice panicking as Ellie runs to Emily and Derek placing handcuffs on the unsub.

"JENNIFER" You shouted at her.

"I'm right here honey, keep your eyes open for me" JJ said loud enough for only us to hear.

You woke up hours later in the hospital confused and alone, you struggled to sit up to see if anyone was with you in the hospital but no one was here, you layed your head down on the pillow and winced due to how hard you accidentally hurt your head again, you decided to go to sleep again but before you closed your eyes you saw JJ coming in to your room with two coffees

"Y/N?" she saw that your eyes were open "She's awake" she ran to the nearest doctor some coffee slightly overspilling which made you chuckle lightly.

When she came back into the room with a doctor she placed the coffees down and walked to the side of your bed

"Thank Goodness you're okay" she leaned down to kiss your temple

"You're such a mom" you playfully rolled your eyes receiving a stare from your bestfriend

"Of course I'm okay Jen" You laughed "I've got you"' you smiled, struggling to lift yourself up due to how much pain you were in

"Stay down love it's okay" you lowered yourself back down slightly manageable due to someone else helping you this time

"Can you just get in here" you said as you wanted to cuddle

"I thought you would never ask" JJ said as she climbed into the hospital bed

"I'm really glad you're okay, you know"'she kissed your temple again "When I thought you died, I really couldn't imagine my life without you" she stroked your hair, occasionally tucking some behind your ears "I love you Y/N Y/L/N"

You didn't say anything back, you leaned forward kissing her whilst having your arms around her waist, her hands still in your hair "I love you too Jennifer Jareau"

#criminal minds #fanfic #jennifer jareau x you #jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau #jj x y/n #jj x reader #aj cook #reader x character

[deangirlsstuff67]

Luck of the Irish

Beau Arlen x Reader

Authors note: Happy St. Patrick's Day everyone! Just a little Beau fluff before some smutty goodness. This man would be so much fun to have arrest me. Hope you enjoy your day and be safe ♡

Masterlist | Patreon

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St. Patrick's Day. It's almost as bad as Halloween for anyone in law enforcement. The one day a year everyone believes their Irish, and everyone gets drunk disorderly charges.

This was Beau Arlen's first one as acting sheriff in Helena, Montana. So far, nothing was too serious. Kids partying in the country, couple drunks started early today and were already in the holding cells. Nothing he couldn't handle.

Jenny Hoyt comes into his office, "hey Beau, we got a domestic in progress."

Great. Well, his easy day just ended. Grabbing his cowboy hat off his desk he follows the blonde out to her truck.

"What we looking at Hoyt?"

"Nothing that can't be defused. I know the woman, y/n, she's a local bartender. Sounds like her jerk of an ex has shown up drunk out of his mind, and she's got him standing at the end of her rifle."

Good grief. Some guys need to learn to take a hint. Jenny gives him the low down on their very messy and public breakup. Typical story, he couldn't keep his dick in his pants, and she found out. Now he's back begging for another second chance.

Got to admit, knowing y/n isn't letting him get away with what he did to her shows she's strong.

It's as you'd expect when Beau and Jenny get on scene. A tall blonde, obviously drunk, man is swaying back and forth as he talks with his hands. Trying desperately to get back into her pants.

The woman, who he assumes is y/n, is a beautiful brunette. She's hyper focus on her ex boyfriend. The rifle point straight at the guys genitals.

Beau shakes his head with a smirk when he realizes she's not pulling any punches today.

"Jenny this isn't any of your concern. I've got it handled." Y/N says without breaking eye contact with the blonde man.

"That I have no doubt Darling." Beau's deep voice breaks the brunette out of her focus. Drawing her blue eyes to his green ones. God damn she's beautiful.

Apparently, her ex has finally figured out there are more people here. He whips around to face the two officers, "I don't know who you are, but stop hitting on my girl before I knock your lights out."

Looks like blondy has some balls.

"Hello. Names Beau Arlen. I'm the new acting sheriff at the moment." Beau extends his hand out to shake.

Drunken and disorderly glares at it before speaking, "I don't give a shit who you are, get your fucking eyes off my woman asshole."

Y/N is the first to speak, "Jeremy shut the fuck up you idiot." She shakes her head before addresses Jenny and I, "you have to excuse him, he's apparently left his brain cell at home today."

"Baby don't be like that. I swear I didn't mean it, it was an accident."

"Oh yes, you accidentally slipped and your dick just fell into her vagina right?"

Beau couldn't help but laugh. It honestly had to be the best thing he's ever heard from a woman. Of course, Beau laughing pissed off the man standing in front of him. So much so that he made the mistake of trying to swing at the sheriff.

It took Beau two well practiced moves to have the drunk idiot on the ground with his hands cuffed behind his back.

Jenny took the man to her truck, leaving Beau and y/n alone.

"I had it handled." Y/N sassed while lowering her weapon. Beau couldn't while the smile off his face.

"I have no doubt. But what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't help a pretty lady such as yourself?"

"Pretty lady hey?"

Beau nodded and bit his lower lip. He knows he should be the attracted to someone he is dealing with in a professional capacity. Something about the fierce brunette has him rock hard in his blue jeans.

No other words are spoken between the two as she walks up to him. Rising on her tip toes to bring her lips to his. The kiss is hot, desperate, and passionate. When she breaks away, he's left craving more.

"Must be luck of the Irish that you were here to help me then, sheriff."

With that she walks back into her house. Leaving Beau wanting more and her drunken ex swearing in the backseat.

#jensen ackles #beau arlen #big sky #jensen ackles smut #beau arlen x you #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x y/n #beau arlen smut

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

Necessary Evil | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi, friends. May I offer y’all some hurt / comfort in this trying time?

Warnings: mention of blood, reader injury /pain, stitches

————————

Having the privilege of seeing you the second his eyes opened each morning renewed Bucky, sustained him. And after a long day of briefings or countless nights spent away on a mission, joining you in the safety of the bed you shared eased the taught tension in his shoulders. He’d fall asleep to the calming metronome of your peaceful breathing, holding you tight to his chest until morning.

He thought nothing could ever taint the serenity that cloaked the two of you as the sun rose, nothing could tarnish the overwhelming peace of falling asleep to the beating of your heart.

He was wrong.

Waking with you each morning now brought a grimace to his face. His stomach churned before his eyes opened, and the sound of you stirring brought a keen anxiety to the surface of his consciousness.

And you knew it. You knew he hated the feeling that settled in his chest each morning- the very same feeling sparked in you the moment the early morning sun hit you each day. Discomfort, utter dread.

Feeling this way around Bucky cut close to the bone. He never brought you anything other than comfort, but the trepidation inching up your spine begged to differ. Bucky was still your safe harbor, your heart’s home, your sweet Buckaroo. But a new, nightmarish torture tarnished these once peaceful moments with the love of your life.

It wasn’t Bucky’s fault- nor yours. The ruthless Hydra operative who’d wielded a sharp blade against you was to blame. He’d come at you like a wild animal, digging and twisting his knife into your back until he hit bone. And just as quickly as he’d appeared, he vanished, leaving his weapon buried in your flesh. It wasn’t until Bucky stepped in your pooling blood as it trickled down the hall that he realized why you’d ignored his communications.

No previous injury had ever hurt like this, and waking up each morning now seemed like a cruel punishment. Deep aches, clawing pains, and excruciating inhales greeted you the moment you woke- and refused to cease until utter exhaustion pulled you under. The pain dug deep into the meat of your shoulder and radiated outward, cloaking your entire right side in agony. The deep, gnarly wound rested between your scapula and your spine, and curved downward just under your shoulder blade, gaining you 17 stitches.

And now, the assassin’s violent attack against you left Bucky saddled with the task of tending to your injury. He usually didn’t mind; he even enjoyed getting to dote on you. It wasn’t uncommon for one - or both- of you to need care after a tough mission left you broken and bloody. And you each jumped at the chance to help the other heal. The two of you looked after one another time and time again, always stitching up wounds and tending to concussions. Gentle hands and soft praises helped ease the pain every time.

But this time was different.

Bucky often called you his “tough cookie”. On more than one occasion, Fury actually ordered you to stay home and rest- otherwise, you’d jump back into danger with open wounds. No injury- no matter how painful or life threatening- ever kept you down. Whether it was tenacity or insanity that kept you pushing forward, Bucky didn’t know. This time, however, you shuddered at the thought of re-entering the field. You swore you could still hear the distinct sound of blade hitting bone.

“How’s my best girl doing? Did you sleep okay?” Bucky rested a light hand on your cheek, his heart breaking as he examined your downtrodden expression. This version of you felt foreign to him, like your internal fire no longer burned.

At first, he’d been secretly happy that you wanted to stay home and rest. Giving yourself the necessary time to heal never crossed your mind after your other injuries, and Bucky thanked the universe that you’d actually made your well-being a priority. It wasn’t concern for your health, however, that kept you sidelined. The apocalyptic pain carving through your flesh convinced you.

“Didn’t sleep. Couldn’t get comfortable…” you muttered, “hurts too much”.

Bucky carefully scooted a bit closer to you, but not quite close enough for your liking. A pillow rested between the two of you, acting as a barricade.

“Can you…” you said as you reached for him, “closer?” But a few weak tugs of his shirt did nothing to move his hulking body.

“The doctor said we can’t, baby. I could hurt you.” Bucky’s chest tightened as he watched pure dejection pull your features downward. No spooning, no laying on his chest, no shared showers, and no sex- doctor’s orders. As if you weren’t miserable enough.

You gave him a disheartened nod.

“Baby…” Bucky sighed, “I’m sorry.” His thumb swept gently across your cheek- almost too gently. More than anything, he wanted to give you what you needed. But wrapping you in his arms was simply too risky, too dangerous.

You’d protested the moment you returned home from the med bay, telling Bucky that he could never hurt you. And he agreed- but sleeping Bucky was a different story. He still struggled with nightmares every now and then, and his sometimes violent movements spelled danger for you in your weakened state. And so, the pillow barricade was erected.

“Hey, It’s Tuesday, which means there’s a new episode of What We Do in the Shadows on tonight. And a new episode of Only Murders in the Building”, Bucky said, attempting to lift your spirits. “Let’s order dinner from that Korean place you like. And that new vampire movie starring Snoop Dogg is finally out on Netflix! We can watch that too. And-”

Bucky was rambling. He knew it, and so did you. But he couldn’t help the nervous energy. He wanted to distract you, to maybe keep you afloat before you drowned yet again in agonizing pain. With one look, you silenced Bucky altogether. He read your mind, and you his. A hush fell over the room.

“Don’t give me that look, doll…”

“Please, Buck,” you pleaded. “I’m begging you. Can we just- can we just skip one? I won’t ask ever again, I promise.” Your big, sad eyes drilled straight through Bucky’s heart.

He hated this. He hated causing you even a fraction of discomfort. No matter how many times he told himself that it was for your own good, it never eased the guilt.

“Baby, you know we can’t…” he told you as he stroked your cheek once more, “We have to take care of it like the doctor said”. The cleaning and care of your stab wound fell on Bucky, and he wasn’t going to shirk that responsibility. He took copious notes on everything your doctor said- when and how to clean your wound, what products to use, things to avoid. If it involved your well-being, Bucky didn’t take it lightly.

“We have to keep it clean. It’s deep, sweets. If it gets infected, it could spread to your spine and that’s really really dangerous.” A pit settled in Bucky’s stomach; even thinking about the worst-case scenario made him shudder. It brought him no joy to put you through excruciating pain each morning and night, but keeping you safe took priority. And if pain now saved your life later, it was worth it.

With a small nod, you accepted defeat. Just knowing what torture awaited forced a sharp pang of anxiety through your chest. “Then we can…” you said with downcast eyes, “we can just get it over with, I guess.”

Bucky wanted to fall apart. His best girl- his strong, tough, badass who never backed down from a challenge- crumbled before him. Every day, he watched a little part of you whither as agony eclipsed your every moment. Your nearly lifeless form melted into the couch day after day, hopeless and miserable. And Bucky couldn't stand it.

And to make matters worse, you were impervious to the effects of the pain medication they’d given you. One pill did nothing, two made you nauseous, and three gave you a blinding headache- but no pain relief. And Bucky wouldn’t let you take more than three at a time. If they’d helped you sleep, or even made you a tiny bit drowsy, you would’ve heralded them as lifesaving. But instead, the pills forced you awake, keeping you cognizant of the pain that doubled with each breath.

“I called again yesterday about different pain meds, baby. They said they’re working on it.”

He wanted to fix it for you- he wanted to fix everything for you. Part of him wanted to go to the compound and raid their well-stocked supply of pain medicine- but you told him no. Bucky, as usual, was your safe place, and you didn’t need him getting into trouble. He, at your request, went through the proper channels.

“Thanks…” you whispered, “I appreciate you not committing a crime- I need you here.”

“You sure about that? I’m torturing you twice a day”.

With a harsh wince, you raised a hand to his stubbled cheek, “I’m sure…”

And after a long, quiet moment, Bucky shattered the peace- it was time. With a knowing look, you nodded. He gently snaked his body out of bed, careful not to jostle you too much. His cautious hands helped you out of your shirt and laid you on your stomach, allowing your bandaged wound to stare up at him.

“Okay, I’m gonna grab the stuff, doll. I’ll be right back.” He let out a sigh as he stood from the bed, his hand gently ghosting down your arm. Bucky hated starting the day this way. He hated hurting you, hated subjecting you to pain before you’d even fully woken up. And with the lack of sleep, he was sure your body was running on fumes. He knew the toll pain like this took on a person, knew how it ravaged every cell in your body.

Part of him wished he could have Wanda or Nat take care of it and save himself the unpleasantness of making his best girl miserable. But you wanted him. And who was he to argue.

“Alright, you know the drill, baby: if you need me to stop, just say so.” With a nod, you allowed Bucky to commence.

As carefully as he could, he pulled last night’s bandage from your skin. A dark, inky blue bruise bloomed around your stab wound, and the sight forced a grimace to Bucky’s face. The violence, the sheer brutality you’d experienced filled him with a rage he’d never experienced before. And if he had the choice, he’d take it all out on the man who’d done this to you.

He eyed the raised red lines that illustrated where the medical tape had been. The constant applying and reapplying of adhesive to your skin made the area red and irritated, and Bucky knew it had to sting like crazy. But it was nothing compared to the rest of the ordeal.

Like the doctor advised, Bucky dunked a cotton swab in betadine. “Next step, doll,” he said, “here we go”. He watched the muscles in your jaw clench and your brow furrow as you steeled yourself against the oncoming torture.

With the tip of the cotton swab, Bucky applied pressure to your wound. Your body shrunk away from his touch, sinking into the mattress just a bit more as the pain took over. Before this injury, you’d never flinched from Bucky’s hand. But he saturated the area like he’d been told, rolling back and forth over each stitch a few times. Why the care team wanted him to apply pressure to your wound while cleaning it remained a mystery, but Bucky wasn’t going to ignore their instructions.

He watched your teeth sink into your bottom lip, and feared you’d draw blood. “Need a break, baby?” he asked, “I can stop and let you can catch your breath.”

But with a weak shake of your head, you said no. Bucky continued with the betadine, flicking his eyes from your wound to your face every few seconds. Your eyes were forced shut in a seemingly permanent grimace.

“Don’t forget to breathe, sweets…”

A sharp inhale filled your chest at Bucky’s prompting but it only served to bring more suffering. Every intake of breath forced your stitches to protest against the expansion of your lungs. Sleeping hurt, breathing hurt- relief seemed impossible.

“You’re doing great, doll” Bucky murmured, “I love you.”

“L- Love you too…” you rasped.

“You sure about that?”

Slowly, your eyes fluttered open and landed on Bucky’s goofy grin. “I’m sure”, you said, throwing him an eye roll.

But the ease left your body as Bucky reached for a glass bottle. Bruce and Dr. Cho concocted this miracle potion together, heralding it as the end all be all of healing salves. It supposedly prevented infection, accelerated healing, reduced scarring, and encouraged growth of new, healthy tissue.

But it was hell in a bottle.

“Can we just- can we not?” you asked, your voice coming out more pitifully than you’d hoped.

But Bucky simply shook his head, “I’m sorry, doll…we have to. We can’t let this thing get infected, and-”

“I know. It’s okay…” you muttered, “just do it”.

With anxiety rising in his chest, Bucky applied a thin layer of Bruce and Helen’s miraculous formula across your wound. There was always a moment of calm before the storm, before the nightmarish pain set in. And it always ended far too soon.

Your jaw snapped shut as the pain sliced through you, your teeth grinding together almost into dust. Once again, Bucky reminded you to breathe, but his voice felt far away. It was muffled by a sharp ringing that reverberated inside your ears. The agony ripping its way through your body left you stranded and alone on a foreign planet, far removed from any sense of comfort you’d ever known. Next time you saw Banner, you planned on punching him in the throat.

“You’re doing great, doll. You can get through this,” Bucky said, his eyes dropping down to his watch. He’d noted a few days ago that it seemed to take almost two minutes for the pain to begin to dissipate- and you were only 24 seconds in. “Breathe. Just breathe, baby.”

Something shiny glimmered in the morning light, catching Bucky’s eye. “Oh, doll…” he whispered as a tear rolled down your cheek.

This wasn’t like you. Sure, you cried during movies and when the stress of the job overwhelmed you- but never out of pain. Broken bones nor bullet wounds had ever pulled tears from you before. Something inside Bucky crumbled as he watched another tear make its way down to your chin. To see you miserable, so utterly despondent left him hopeless. All he ever wanted was to take care of you, to make you happy. And he couldn’t. He couldn’t heal you or even help ease the pain. The next time Bucky saw Bruce, he planned on punching him in the throat.

As gently as he could, Bucky wiped the tear from your skin.

“I’m- I’m fine,” you said through gritted teeth.

“You’re almost there, I promise,” Bucky said. “That’s my girl”.

The torture rendered you speechless. Somehow, the scorching pain that burned into your flesh forced a layer of sweaty goosebumps to crop up across your skin. A strange, almost otherworldly shudder rocketed up your spine, the sharp motion only adding to your misery as it rattled your broken body. Your knuckles turned a sickly white as you gripped the comforter for dear life. If this was what hell felt like, you planned to repent. And even though the pain had descended upon you without pause, its recession took far too long for your liking. It seemed to sizzle as it dissipated, the strange heat leaching slowly from your skin.

And finally, when the burning stopped, you let yourself breathe again.

“Let me just bandage you up, okay?” Bucky said, “and then you’re done”.

You gave him a small nod, knowing you’d get to do it all again in a few hours.

Bucky worked quickly but with great care, gently applying a clean bandage and a few new pieces of tape to your irritated skin. He took inventory of your haggard expression, the emptiness in your eyes. Your pain was his pain- and this hurt like a motherfucker.

“Thank you, Buck…”

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh, “You don’t have to thank me, baby. I know I’m torturing you”.

With great effort and a heap of discomfort, you rolled onto your side. Bucky’s arms found you in an instant, easing the transition and holding you for safety. Protecting you was a natural reflex for him. From the moment he met you, he’d wanted nothing more than to keep you safe for the rest of his life. And by putting you through misery everyday -twice a day- he was doing just that.

“I mean, yeah. It hurts- a lot. But you’re taking care of me. Really good care of me,” you said, eyeing his gentle hands supporting your battered body.

“That’s all I ever wanna do, baby”, Bucky leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger for a long moment. But when he finally pulled away, it was too soon for your liking,

“I just want you to know that I appreciate it. I appreciate you. A lot.”

With one shaking hand, you reached for Bucky. It was weak and painful and nearly pathetic, but you couldn't stop yourself. The strict orders from your doctor left you suffering from a severe lack of Bucky’s touch, but you needed him close- now more than ever. You needed to feel him. Needed his comfort and warmth to bring you peace.

“Will you lay with me for a while?” you asked, your trembling hand still outstretched in Bucky’s direction. “I know we’re not supposed to, but… I just need you close. Please.”

Just the sight of your pitiful gesture broke Bucky’s heart all over again. He hesitated as the doctor’s words echoed inside his skull- and he knew he’d hate himself if he ended up hurting you. But you needed him. On more occasions that he could count, Bucky sought the comfort and safety of your arms when a mission left him bloody and bruised. No pain medication or sedative had quite the same effect as the warmth of your body wrapped tightly around his. In moments like those, he ached for you- and he knew you felt the same as you stared up at him with desperate eyes.

“Of course, baby. Let me just-” As carefully as he could, Bucky removed the barricade of pillows. He slowly wriggled into the spot next to you, his eyes never leaving your face. Every dip in the bed, every slight movement sent aftershocks of pain ripping through you, and it was almost enough to make him rethink the decision. Every grimace that flashed across your face told him to stop, but you insisted.

“C’mere…” he said, gently easing your body on top of his. “Is this what you wanted?’

A quiet “yeah” was all you could manage. With your body pressed against Bucky’s, all was right in the world. Each night you spent without Bucky’s arms around you only made your pain worse, adding insult to injury.

And while your knife wound still throbbed, the hollow ache in your chest began to heal as you revel in Bucky’s warmth. This was what you’d needed all along- closeness and comfort and safety. You needed your head on Bucky’s chest, his heartbeat below your ear, his hands in your hair. You’d craved this moment from the second you woke in the med bay.

As the rush of relief flooded your senses, exhaustion caught up with you. Sleepless night after sleepless night left you weak, and the apocalyptic pain robbed you of energy. But you didn’t want to sleep. Missing out on your first moment of closeness with Bucky in what felt like years simply wasn’t an option. You needed to force yourself awake and take in the sensation of his body against yours- no matter how exhausted you were.

But he instantly clocked your attempt to stifle a yawn, and put an end to it.

“Rest, doll” he whispered, “I got you”. And just like that, you drifted off. Bucky hummed in contentment as he watched you sleep peacefully for the first time in days. He loved knowing that, even though he’d been torturing you day in and day out, he could still bring you the peace you needed.

————————

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[brewsterispunkk]

a marriage of convenience, part two

pairing: pero tovar x f!reader

warnings: HEAVY TW ON DOMESTIC ABUSE! enemies to lovers

WC: 3.1k

summary: hate at first sight <3

PART TWO

Against your mother’s wishes, you arrived home later than usual, with the sun already beginning to set beyond the hills.

It wasn’t your fault entirely—Lisbeth had practically begged you to walk her home after the fright you’d had with the man in the river earlier.

She always was easier to frighten than you. And besides, there had been rumors about attacks on maidens from a few towns over for weeks. Your mothers and others in the community had already begun whispering that it was only a matter of time before they made their way to your hometown.

The very thought sent a shiver down your spine. There were enough sinister men here already– you didn’t need any more.

Unlike you, Lisbeth didn’t keep any type of weapon on her person for self defense, so it seemed only natural for you to walk her home; Men rarely attacked women who traveled in groups, and you kept a dagger hidden in your bodice for emergencies. And you knew how to use it—your father made sure of that before he lost his ability to walk.

Still, you kept an eye out for strangers as you crept the cobblestone alleyways home, to your father’s carpenter’s shop.

It wasn’t a particularly long trek from Lisbeth’s home, but it was enough to keep you wary. Nights in the village tended to be rowdy, with the merchants and travelers from every-which-way seeking their fun after months on the road.

Luckily for you, you knew the ways to go to keep out of the way of unsavory company.

You crossed the street to another alley, this one torch-lit. You silently thanked the Gods, and the tavern owner, for the light.

It put you at more ease. You’d been on edge since that afternoon and your encounter with the strange rogue in the forest.

Your mind went back to him as you hurriedly made your way through the alleyways.

His build, his hair, his eyes, how dark they were.

You couldn’t tell if you were more frightened or intrigued.

The opening of a back-door snapped your attention back to the present.

You recognized from the drunken-singing coming from inside that it was a tavern—one of the most frequented in town.

“Out with ‘ya, then!” A familiar female voice shouted, before the heavy figure of a man was thrown to the wet cobbled street in front of you.

You could barely control the shriek that left your lips.

“Christ, girl. You scared me.” The barmaid, Morwenna, placed a hand over her breast.

“And you me!” You scowled at her, only to be met with the rise of an eyebrow.

Morwenna was the daughter of a friend of your mothers and had spent many a day rearing you when your mother was tending house. Nearly a decade older than you, she married the owner of the tavern when you were only nine. Still, she was one of the many women in the village who employed your mother’s services for pains and maladies.

“What are you doing out so late, love?” She asked. “Your mother will be having a fit.”

“I know,” you sighed. “I was…distracted.”

“Again?” She flicked a black curl over her shoulder.

“Yes, again.”

“Well. You best get on home now, there’ll be more like him,” she nodded to the drunken man at your feet, “about. Be careful.”

“I will.”

“Oh, and, does your mother have another batch of my tea made up yet?”

“Almost. With this batch of herbs, she should,” you held up your basket of herbs.

“Good,” she said, beginning to close the door. “My moonsblood is almost here and I can’t bear it without it.”

“I’ll bring it by as soon as it’s ready.”

“Good girl.” she smiled. “Be safe!”

You smiled at the woman over your shoulder before continuing on your way.

- - -

You were surprised to find the house silent when you arrived home.

Your siblings rarely went to bed without a fight, unless they were thoroughly tired out, and your mother was known to stay up mending by the fire well into the early hours of the morning.

You were relieved to find your Petyr’s jacket gone from its hook near the door. It meant what it always did: that he was gone to the tavern for the night, and you were spared from his presence.

Wearily, you set your full basket at the wooden table near the kitchen, thankful that you wouldn’t have to face your mother’s wrath ‘til the next morning.

She would have your head for staying out this late, you were sure, but at least you could get a good night’s sleep first.

A sniff from behind you caught your attention and you turned your head to face the hearth.

You were so weary you had almost missed it; There, curled up on some blankets were two of your younger brothers, Hugo and Rowan.

Strange, you thought.

It wasn’t unheard of for them to tire too soon and fall asleep by the hearth, but usually Petyr or your mother would carry them up to their chambers upstairs.

You hummed in curiosity before looking at your arms.

You looked down to your tender wrists and rubbed them, hissing when you found them still tender to the touch.

It was moments like these that you allowed yourself to hate your brother—Petyr—in the silence and darkness of your home, while everyone was asleep. In a way, it made it excusable. Not real, even. Still, it was enough for you to keep your head during the day when you had to save face with the rest of your family.

You sighed and unlaced the front of your dress, allowing yourself to slump into one of the well-worn seats at the table. You saw a crust of bread sitting there, along with a bit of apple and you smiled to yourself.

That was from your sister, Grace, you were sure. At fourteen, she was the backbone of your family and sharp as a dagger, but kind as summer at the same time.

You took a bite of the bread, then realized that you had no ale or water to be seen, which meant you would have to venture down to the cellar for some.

You shivered at the thought. Though a woman grown, you still hated to go down there alone, nevertheless at night.

Still, your tongue felt like sandpaper in your mouth and you knew that you’d have to brave the cold, dank, cellar.

You stood and began to creep toward the cellar door, which was attached to the kitchen. But, as you crept in, something stopped you.

It was the quiet creak of the loose floorboard in the corner.

It crept up your spine like a serpent, and immediately you knew you weren’t alone in the dark kitchen.

You silently cursed yourself for not lighting a candle when you got home.

You took a slow breath before itching sneakily for the knife in your bodice, all the while taking slow steps into the kitchen, toward the corner.

Suddenly, there was a rush of movement, and you wasted no time.

WIth a yelp, you slammed into the person hiding in the corner, your knife drawn. You shoved them against the wall and pressed the knife to their throat.

“Stop!” You screeched, pressing the knife deeper. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to cause the person—the man—to grunt.

“Mother!” you called over your shoulder. “James!”

“Ah!” The man grunted from where he was pressed to the wall. “Suéltame, suéltame—Let me go!”

His voice would have been fearsome had you not had a knife to his throat.

You heard shuffling from upstairs, and the familiar racket of your family and you breathed a sigh of relief.

You felt the coarse brush of hair over your wrist—like that of a beard—and took the opportunity to examine the shadowy silhouette of the man under your knife.

He was broad, with a long mass of hair, that much you knew, and he smelled of lye soap. He was tall, too. Intimidatingly so.

It was almost as if—no. It couldn’t be.

Your mother’s gasp and the gold of candlelight interrupted your thoughts.

“What are you doing?” she screeched, as she and your siblings entered the kitchen behind you.

The light from their candles finally made it possible for you to see the man’s face, and it made your blood run cold.

It was him.

“You!” you yelled, pressing the knife deeper against his neck, deep enough to draw a drop of blood.

He grunted, before you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Cousin,” a familiar voice cooed from behind you.

You hadn’t heard it in years, and it had deepened some, but you could recognize it anywhere.

“Please, drop the knife.”

“...William?”

“Aye.”

You turned your head and were met with familiar blue eyes, under an overgrowth of blond hair. The man took advantage of your distraction, grabbing your wrist in a vice-like grip and prying it—and the knife with it—away from his neck.

You gasped at the pressure to your bruised wrists and pulled them to your chest, glaring daggers at the wild man before you.

You hadn’t seen your cousin William’s face in nearly a decade. He’d spent time living with your family when you were younger, after the death of his mother, your aunt.

You remembered the time when William lived with you in a myriad of gold-edged memories. Like it was always summer when he was there.

You remembered swimming in the stream, trying to teach him the lute, singing wildly off-key, and wild games of tag in the fields. You remembered him carrying your ten-year-old body on his shoulders, and dancing in a circle at the festival of the harvest.

But mostly, you remembered being heart-broken when he left.

“What on earth is going on here?”

Your mother rushed in between you and him, eyes fierce.

“I should be asking you that!” you burst.

“I awake to you assaulting a guest?!”

“---a guest?!” you cast a horrified look over your shoulder. “He is a rake!”

“He is a friend of your cousin’s, and you will hold your tongue.” Your mother’s tone held no room for argument.

“Ah, this is my friend and companion, Tovar. We’re just passing through, looking for somewhere to lay low for a while.”

You eyed the man—Tovar—skeptically, looking particularly at his hair.

“Yes, we, uhm,” William chuckled. “We haven’t had time for a cut or shave in months, I’m afraid. We shall have to remedy that tomorrow, I think.”

You hummed.

“That still does not explain this one’s penchant for spying.”

At that, Tovar snorted.

“And where is your husband, Señora?”

You bristled at that.

So he did remember your conversation from earlier, you thought.

“She has no husband,” Grace piped up from behind your brother James. “Though she should. She’s already old—”

“That is enough, Graciela.”

She merely smirked.

“Are you alright, sir?” Your mother asked Tovar.

He cast you a glare, before nodding.

He wiped a drop of blood from the cut on his neck.

“Just a scratch. No harm, Doña.” He smiled half-heartedly at your mother.

“You are too kind, Mr. Tovar, but yes there was much harm done.” She cast a withering gaze at you. “It’s a grievous sin to wound a guest under your own roof. My daughter should know better.”

“Surely, Aunt—”

“No, William,” your mother cut your cousin off. “She must learn.”

She snaps your name and your fuming gaze meets hers.

“You will dress his wounds.”

“But—”

“No arguing. You’re lucky you didn’t wake your father. The consequences would’ve been much more severe.”

You balked at her as she ushered your siblings back upstairs, but you knew better than to argue. Your mother was a kind woman, a just woman, but she was not a woman to be crossed.

You sighed, and met William’s eyes, who merely cast you an apologetic look.

“Come, then Tovar.” You spat once your mother had retreated upstairs. “Let’s get this over with.”

“I’ll leave you to it,” William chuckled from your right and you shot him a venomous look.

“I’m not done with you either,” you shot at him. “I want answers.”

“Then you shall get them,” he smiled, eyes fond.

You narrowed your eyes at him.

He wanted you to smile at him, to fall into his arms and tell him you missed him, you were sure of it. You wouldn’t—no matter how true it was. Some part of you was still angry at him for leaving so abruptly all those years ago. Still, it was nothing you couldn’t forgive him for.

“You’ve been away too long.” You settled with.

At that, he smirked and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side.

“I missed you,” he mumbled into your head. You couldn’t help the smile that came to your face; you really did miss him.

“Alright,” you groaned. “Let go, you’re smothering me.”

He chuckled and did as you asked.

“Well, I shall leave you to it then. I’m tired.”

You waved to him as he exited to where you assumed he was sleeping in your younger brothers’ room.

Then, you turned and faced the real problem: the man in front of you.

- - -

“Ow,” the man—Tovar—hissed from beneath your hand.

“Be quiet,” you snapped. “You’ll wake everyone up.”

“A warning next time, Leona.” He spat at you.

You pressed the alcohol-soaked cloth harder into his neck.

“Don’t insult me in a language I don’t understand.” You said, before grumbling, “coward.”

He grabbed your wrist.

“I am many things, but I am not a coward,” his voice was dangerously low.

You met his dark eyes, and rolled your own. You yanked your wrist out of his grip, ignoring the throbbing.

“You men are such babies.”

He scoffed, but you continued.

“Whining over a scratch, over the sting of alcohol, over mere words–”

“You would be surprised how much words can fire the temper, hmm, Señora?”

You glared at him and turned to the gauze on the table.

You didn’t speak much Castilian, but living where you did you’d picked up enough to know a few words. He was calling you “Mrs.” It made you tick.

“Just shut up, so we can get this over with.”

“As the Señora commands.”

You glared and wrapped the gauze around his neck only a little too tight. It was difficult enough to dress the wound around his wild hair and beard. You hoped you wouldn’t be expected to cut it tomorrow.

“Done,” you sighed when you tied the knot on the bandage.

“Hmm,” he hummed.

His scowling face looked almost menacing in the candlelight. You wondered if it always held such a sour expression. You also wondered why on earth this man was so unpleasant.

Tovar stood from where he sat beside you at the table and you were once again reminded of his staggering height. He had to be nearly a head taller than your father, and half a head taller than Petyr.

His stature was attractive, you accepted begrudgingly. You wondered if his face was as well, under all the months of overgrowth.

There had been times in your youth when you and Lisbeth had snuck off from your chores to the village square to spy on the travelers. You’d seen men of all kinds there: tall and short, light and dark, small and big.

You two would often daydream about handsome strangers you found there—imagining them as your future husbands.

As you sat there watching Tovar stand in your kitchen, you wondered if you had seen him then, would you have imagined him there, in the place of the man you would one day marry?

One look at his scowl gave you your answer.

Wordlessly, he made his way to the wooden stairs that led to the upper level of your house, where he was no doubt sleeping in your brothers’ room.

You noted the stiffness to his shoulders, the sureness and beat in his step; This man was a soldier. If not presently, then in another life.

Your village didn’t see war often—maybe ever—but you’d seen enough of them passing through in your life to recognize one.

This new revelation about Tovar made you curious—almost as much as you were resentful.

It wasn’t until he was halfway up the stairs that you realized that he hadn’t even thanked you.

“You’re welcome.” You called dryly, causing him to scowl even more over his shoulder before he went to bed.

- - -

You stayed up by the fire, mending James and Hugo’s playclothes.

Your mother usually was the one who stayed awake into the wee hours doing chores, and you wanted to make up for the ones you’d missed that afternoon. That, and you hoped this would save you from her wrath the next morning.

You were sewing a hole in the knees of a pair of James’s breeches when you heard the front door being roughly pushed open.

A spike of fear went through your heart.

Petyr.

Your brother stumbled as he made his way through the kitchen, no doubt drunk again. You heard his drunken shuffling as he rooted through the pantry, then the empty bowls on the table. He grumbled as he stumbled into the room where you were.

“You,” he slurred, voice hateful even inebriated.

You froze in the chair.

Your brother was disheveled. His shirt was partly unlaced, and had a stain down the front. It looked and smelled like it was ale. His shoes were haphazardly tied, and his pants stained like he’d fallen in the dirt. His face was deadly.

“You didn’t save me dinner,” he growled as he stalked toward you.

You stood up, dropping the breeches to the floor and backing away from your brother.

In two steps, he was in front of you, hand grabbing your already tender wrist in an iron grip.

You cried out, and he yanked you closer, sneering in your face.

“Shut up,” he spat. “Why isn’t there any supper waiting for me?”

“I-I didn’t eat,” you struggled to get your wrist free.

“What about the bread,” his voice was too quiet. Deadly.

“Gra-Gracie left me some. I didn’t eat, Petyr, let me go!” You pulled at him, only for his hand to move from your wrist to your neck.

You gasped as he squeezed your neck in his hand, enough pressure that you saw stars.

“You don’t tell me what to do, do you understand?” he asked, face too close to yours.

You could smell the sour scent of alcohol on his breath as you struggled to breathe.

You tried to nod your head.

“Yes.”

You finally squeaked out, before his hand was gone and you were toppling to the floor.

You heard his footsteps stalking away as you tried to catch your breath, gasping on the floor. Your heart raced, and you realized after a moment that your head was pounding.

It was only until you were sure he was gone that you let yourself cry.

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