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foreverdolly · 1 month

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ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part 3 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking. ( need to edit this later because I'm exhausted right now)

word count: 3.5k

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If the intruder had made another noise then hadn’t been able to hear it. Not over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. Dread washed over you, the blood in your veins turning to ice as you were struck with a sudden realization:

Either you fought for your life, here and now. . . or you died.

Your throat locked up, and suddenly you found yourself unable to say anything at all. Shouldn’t you be screaming like a madwoman? Had he seen you undress for the night? Had he been lurking in a corner or a closet as your attendants had run your bath? Was everybody in on this?

Every nervous smile and antsy movement came rushing back to you. Betrayal slapped you in the face so hard that it stunned you back into motion.

The knife that you had hidden away in your room after breakfast was shorter than you would have liked- minimal reach, meaning you’d have to get up close to the attacker. Still, you somehow managed to kick the sheets off of you in order to lurch to the side before he was able to brandish his own blade. You heard it cut through the air, the loud tearing of the pillow where your head had just been perched a millisecond ago echoed through the pitch black room.

You moved towards the door, bare feet against ice cold marble, and finally began to open your mouth to scream for whatever guards were sure to be stationed near the guest quarters.

“I wouldn’t bother,” The man’s voice sneered, a smile evident in his voice. “No one will save you.”

There it was. The truth.

Everyone hated you, but you already knew as much. There was very little you could do in your nightdress- no way you could properly fend off an attacker without any shoes on your feet. Even worse, you had no shield.

“Why are you doing this?” You questioned, raising the knife so that you were holding it defensively in front of you. You hated how pathetic you sounded with your voice shaking like that. Still, your hands held strong.

Under immense trauma and stress like this your body had gone into autopilot. Again and again your training has been hammered into you. You must remain calm. Act with surety.

Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear.

You waited, listening to see if he was getting close to you. The bed creaked, the attacker stepping into a single ray of silver light that had escaped through the blinds.

It was a guard.

So this was planned. You should have known enough. You would have thought that Feyd would have been the one to orchestrate the whole thing, but his earlier warning had made it clear to you that he hadn’t wanted you to perish. At least not like this.

He didn’t say anything else to you before his arm came barrelling down. You stepped to the side, almost tripping over the fabric of your dress in your panic. The cutter blade struck the wall behind you, and in the man’s blind fury he left his side completely defenseless. You surged forward, the knife tightly clutched in your hand, and brought it down hard on his arm. He cried out, the sound nearly deafening you as it echoed off of the empty walls.

“You bitch!” His weapon clung against the ground.

Still, his uninjured arm struck against the side of your face. The world tilted beneath you as you stumbled backwards, your spine cracking against the dresser drawer as your knees buckled beneath you. Pain. It felt like he had just drilled a hole clean into the side of your face. No one had ever landed a blow to you like that. The guard took advantage of your stunned state, moving forward so that he could wrap his meaty hands around your throat.

You needed to use the Voice. He had to stop. . . but his hands were squeezing too tightly. Your lips moved but little more than fearful croaks escaped you. Tears pooled in your eyes at the pressure, at the pain, at the fucking fear that was threatening to swallow you up whole, whole, whole until you were nothing. Your nails scrapped against any bit of skin that you could find. He hissed in pain, using the weight of your own body against you as he slammed you against the dresser where he currently had you pinned.

You kicked out your legs, desperately trying to find a foothold so that you could wrench yourself upwards. If you were in pants then you might have been able to save yourself, but your bare feet slid out against the loose fabric pooled underneath you. The man had struck when you had been most vulnerable. He was killing you.

Your eyes widened, the tears finally spilling past the thick wall of your lower lashes. He was killing you. He was killing you. He was killing you.

With the ringing filling your ears, you hadn’t heard the commotion outside of your door. Only when it slammed open, light from the hall flooding in, did you realize that someone had been alerted. The hands around your throat loosened just enough for you to take a deep, wheezing breath in.

“Help me.” But you couldn’t reach the correct frequency, not when your vocal cords were so damaged.

Still, with bleary eyes you stared up at whoever’s large form filled the doorway. Begging them to save you.

And so they did.

The world just fell away, like ink on wet paper- it all bled around him. All sound and sight ebbed away, the only thing visible in his rage being your tear filled eyes. Feyd had seen looks of pure terror on the faces of men he had bested countless times before. It never meant much to him. The lives he had taken never weighed heavy on his shoulders. He never cared much for anything aside from his own ambitions. He had goals- found minor joy in sharpening his mind and his blades.

He had carried his memories of you from childhood with him into adulthood, each glance and nervous smile acted as a balm that soothed any future traumas or worries. He knew that one day he would be standing exactly where he was right then, with you within arms length.

This wasn’t what he had pictured throughout the years though. Nothing could have prepared him for what he was currently witnessing.

Women bled the same as men did. He never felt overly-noble when it came to protecting them, no matter how weak or frail they looked. Feyd understood that it was survival of the fittest. People lost their lives every day in much crueler ways than suffocation. . .

But the guard had his hands around your throat, and in that moment Feyd no longer saw the proud woman that had managed to nearly knock him off of his feet earlier. No, in that moment you looked just like that six year old little girl he had always cared for so dearly. You looked exactly how he had left you- scared, fragile and innocent.

Feyd-Rautha wasn’t quite sure what love was, but he could imagine that it must be what he felt for you. Losing you was an impossibility, he’d never let it happen. He couldn’t.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

An eerie sort of calm befell the room, the only sounds being your shaky breaths as you tried to fill your aching lungs with air. The guard didn’t answer him, only stared with fearful eyes up at the Na-Baron. He was looking Death right in the face.

“Was it your idea to attack her in the middle of the night like this?” Feyd took another step into the room, which had the guard scooting back awkwardly on his knees. “You were going to kill her in the dark like she was no better than an animal.”

He hadn’t even been brave enough to face you with the lights on.

Feyd, without turning around, used his foot to close the door behind him. Once again the room plummeted into pitch black darkness. There was a shuffling sound in front of him, the man trying to get to his feet as fast as he could to put some distance between the two of them, but it was too late. Feyd followed the source of the noise and reached out, grabbing the man around the stomach before sinking his blade deep into his neck. A sick wet gurgling noise caused you to let out a small cry. Still, the blue eyed man wouldn’t be offput by your disgust.

He had to pay for what he did to you.

And so he dislodged the knife easily, the sharp blade gliding through muscle and skin, and then stabbed again. And again. And again. The guard moaned in pain, trying his hardest to buck and fight Feyd off of him. Even when the man’s legs gave out from under him Feyd followed him, falling to his knees so that he could continue his ruthless assault.

The Na-Baron grit his teeth, eyes wide as his knife continued to find purchase in the corpse beneath him. The bastard had caused you to suffer. He had hurt you. Feyd didn’t stop there either. He stood up and made his way out into the hallway.

The rage had made a home somewhere deep in his chest. He didn’t know what to do with so much anger. He needed. . . he needed to make everyone atone for what they had done to you. Did they think that he would approve of their lame assassination attempt?

“You heard everything and did nothing!” He screamed out at the other guards who stood in the hallway.

His hands were coated in blood, his black shirt and night pants soaked through, clinging to his skin. All they could do was watch him, unable to say anything at all. Feyd knew that they could not deny his claims. They had all been in on this from the start.

And so he raised his blade again and did not stop until every man in the hallway was long-dead.

Not a word had been said since the incident. You didn’t even complain when Feyd had all but dragged you through the halls, rather you followed him as emotionless as a doll. The blood of the fallen marred your arms and crisp white nightdress. It was as if your body had gone into auto pilot. Your mind was lost to you, as you felt as though you were floating off somewhere far away. You no longer existed at all.

You were just a hollow shell now, in a state of shock that had you shutting down completely.

Where was he taking you? You didn’t know, nor did you particularly care anymore.

The guard’s final breaths had sounded wet, probably due to the blood in his lungs. The blade hitting bone. His moans of pain. Those sounds still echoed in your ears, and you were positive that you’d never be able to get them out of your head.

You’d never witnessed anything like that in all of your life. Someone had been killed mere feet away from you. And yet you weren’t sorry for him. You searched yourself for even an inkling of pity and came up short. The bastard got what he deserved.

“Why did you have to do that in front of me?” You managed to mumble out.

Tonight would soon become a memory that would never abandon you. Even in old age you were certain that you would be able to recall every gut wrenching detail of tonights events. When the door leading out to the doorway had opened and illuminated the room, Feyd’s sins had been revealed in full to you.

The guard was unrecognizable. He no longer looked human to you, his insides turned out. Your betrothed had quite literally gutted your attacker in front of you.

Your bare feet tracked blood on the floors, the long skirts of your nightgown soaked with another man’s blood.

“I killed him for you. I wanted you to experience every moment of retribution.” He didn’t turn around to face you as he spoke. Instead he kept his eyes on the hallway, the pupils of his pale blue eyes blown out wide.

You cast a look down at the hand that was holding your arm in a vice-like grip. He was shaking. It was almost as though he could feel your eyes on his hand. His trembling fingers dug into your soft skin.

Feyd released you once the two of you were alone in a room together, closing the door behind him and locking it for good measure. You stood there, motionless as you followed the line of his jaw with your eyes. The muscle there ticked a few times as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. He was still agitated, you could tell.

“You’re starting to bruise.” He motioned towards his own neck.

Your hand flew up to your throat, poking at the tender skin. It felt hot under your touch- sore too. It would serve as a reminder of how close you had come to death. Tonight you felt nothing. . . but what about tomorrow? Would you ever be able to sleep again?

“How did you know that I was being attacked?” Your suspicion was beginning to build back up again. There were just too many coincidences.

“You think I had something to do with this?” He sounded agitated. There was no hint of his usual sarcastic lilt in his tone.

You’d never seen Feyd like this before. He actually seemed. . . offended but your gentle accusation.

“You can’t answer my question with yet another question. How did you know I was being attacked?” You might have been in a state of immense shock but you still had some wits about you.

You were locked in a room with a murderer, and the possibility that he had a hand in your assassination attempt was high. Once again you found yourself utterly defenseless. If he tried to attack you now there was no way that you’d be able to defend yourself. Not only that but your throat was wrecked. You could barely talk at the current moment, meaning you couldn’t even depend on the Voice if you needed to. You were as helpless as a child in the wake of Feyd’s power.

“I see you in my dreams sometimes.”

Anyone else would have called him insane, but you were used to Paul’s dreams. They’d been getting even more vivid as he aged. So Feyd had a dream that you were in danger? You found it difficult to believe that he would go out of his way to come to your rescue. Still, here he was.

“Is that why you warned me today at breakfast?” The pieces were finally beginning to fall into place. He’d known something was going to happen since last night.

“Yes,” He tilted his head, seemingly deep in thought. “Something told me to go and see you.”

You didn’t have it in yourself to question him further. You’d have to be satisfied with his answers. What you really wanted was a bath and a fresh change of clothes. One last look at your soiled clothes had your nose wrinkling in disgust. The smell of blood was thick in your nose- so strong that the iron scent almost smelled sweet. You gagged outwardly, putting your hands on your knees as you suddenly dry heaved.

“You realize that he couldn’t be left alive after what he had done, don’t you?”

Of course you did. That didn’t make it any better though. Your fingers stuck together, caked in blood, as you balled them into fists at your sides.

“Bath.” Was all you said, already looking around the room that you assumed was his living quarters for any sign of a tub.

He didn’t make any complaints as you closed the bathroom door behind yourself. Feyd gave you the time to process everything, didn’t knock on the door even once as the minutes ticked by. You stayed in the water until your fingers pruned and rubbed your skin until it was raw. Blood was everywhere. Under your nails, between your toes- it had even soaked through your dress and now caked your lower legs and thighs.

You threw on a thin cotton robe you found neatly folded on a small towel rack, tying it tightly around your waist before you built up the courage to face your fiance again.

“Take me back to my room.” You were eager to fall asleep.

You’d been through too much. The thought of having to be conscious was tiring in itself. If you could close your eyes and sleep for the next ten years then you would.

You missed your home. You missed your parents and Paul. You missed stability and security. Your life felt lost to you now.

“This is your room now.” He was laying on the bed, already in a change of clothes. He seemingly took a bath himself while you had locked yourself away. There was no trace of gore left on him now.

Your mouth went dry, palms pooling with sweat. Surely you were understanding him incorrectly.

“You can’t expect me to sleep in the same room with you. We aren’t married.” There was absolutely no way your parents would approve of something like this.

“I don’t trust anyone besides myself with your safety.”

You didn’t trust anyone. Especially not Feyd.

“Why should I be expected to sleep with you? I don’t feel comfortable-”

“I will kill anyone that lays a finger on you again. Let that pile of bodies act as a warning to anyone else that tries. That’s why you should be expected to stay here with me. Get in the bed.” He seemed tired. Aggitated.

“No.” You held strong. Never in your life had you slept in the same room as a man, let alone someone like Feyd-Rautha. He’d sooner kill you in your sleep then anyone else would.

“Come here.” His tone caused you to jump.

You had to bite your tongue as you approached him, sitting down awkwardly on the bed before you finally succumbed to his wishes. The bed was softer than your own, which you immediately envied. The soft mattress enveloped you, and all at once the tiredness you hadn’t felt until then finally sank in.

You didn’t put up much more of a fight. Your eyes were beginning to close on their own accord. Feyd was watching you, turned on his side so that he could get a better look at you. It was then, for the first time ever, that you fully noted how beautiful he was. Up close like this he was even more striking. Blue eyes, full lips and pale, flawless skin.

One thing that went unnoticed by you was the fact that Feyd didn’t turn the lights off.

Without having to ask. . . he didn’t turn the lights off.

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ೃ࿔ savage bonds taglist:

@elf-punk @shitfuckeryclownverse @mydarlingelvis @heartarianagran @ohdearmaggie @chalametism @killingboredom @obsessedvibee @avidreader73 @softboo @tedcruzumakii @luminnara @narniansmagic @torchbearerkyle @ziggy-stardust-world @tian-monique @adoxra @zz-snow-zz @tiredsleepyhead @icontrolthespice @itsparksjoyhuh @verveta345 @shegatsby @zae5 @ertepla @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @lotus-888 @meetmeatyourworst @moonchild-artemisdaughter @abswifey @flower-frog @auroranodyssey @forgedfromthestars @moony-artemis @juliskopf @moonsoulk @serrendiipty @atrxidxs @the-ruler-of-death @mintoblobo @just-pure-trash @randominterwebthings @springholland @so-dramatic1 @ashy-kit @aslutforscarletwitch99 @sofia-013 @gamorxa @ricecakeslove @alexandrainlove @selfishlittlebeing @ceres27

#feyd rautha #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #dune part two #dune part 2 #dune #austin butler #austin butler x reader #smut #dune smut #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune x reader #dune x you #dune fanfiction #feyd rautha fic #austin butler fic

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imsilay · 8 months

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I love your stalker König, have you considered writing about him kidnapping the reader?

Kidnapping them, locking them in his home so that when he comes back from his missions he can play “house” and “make love to his little wife”. Age gap is also always so good 🩷

IT WAS ON MY MIND BUT WHEN YOU REQUESTED IT I HAD TO WRITE ilysm <3

SOAR

NSFW! mdni +18, cw: kidnapping, obsessive behavior, fem!reader, König is a fucking delusional, riding, fingering.

word count: 2k

summary: Your sweet captor König fucking you after coming back to home from a long mission.

next part here

art cr: yashk_pucyet on twt

An ominous whistle echoed through the hall as he made his way to the front door of his apartment. The way he walked, his hands on his pockets and long steps, told how delighted he was to finally be back home. Other soldiers were already at the bar, celebrating their victory. But for him it was different. He didn’t wanted alcohol and woman. He wanted you. That was why he was rushing to home. He couldn’t wait to see his sweet wife, to worship his prize, to use his pet. He was aching to have you in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist as he did basically everything in the house. He was clingy yes. He knew it but didn’t care. You were his already. So that meant he could do anything he wanted with you.

He already had his keys when he arrived at the door. Impatiently unlocking the door and kicking his shoes off. He closed and locked the door. A wont. “I’m back meine Königin.” he said not too loudly. He wouldn’t want to startle you because it was midnight and he knew you didn’t like loud noises. He walked through living room, it was designed simple; a couch and a tv unit with some plants, he could buy better but it was safe if it was small and basic. The door of your shared bedroom opened as he decided to stay silent in case you were sleeping. His heart hammer his chest when he saw your sleeping form in his bed. the sheets covered some of your body but the way your pajama pants was slid up exposing your soft thigh made his head spin.

See? He didn’t need any alcohol, you were intoxicating enough for him. “Meine Königin.” he purred as he quickly took of his gear and other clothes until he was just in his boxers. His mask was thrown away for him to find tomorrow. He climbed on the bed next to you. His massive body took the majority of the space but he wasn’t complaining. This way you were more close with him.

He gently turned your body towards him and took a sharp breath when he saw you wasn’t wearing any bra. “Nein, i should let you sleep. I don’t want my wife to be mad at me.” he mumbled as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you onto his chest. “I missed you so much, meine Königin.” he whispered and kissed your cheek. You clinged to his body unconsciously for more warmth. The way your body pressed against his -especially the feeling of your breasts underneath your t-shirt- made him want to take you there but he has to be patient. Until you wake up and notice his presence.

Well… He wasn’t a patient man. Not after witnessing how easily can people die. If he wanted something, he had to have it right then. That was why he kidnapped you. You, his innocent little girl, so young and naive. It wasn’t hard to gain your trust, you loved everyone. He just waited until you were independent from your family and had your own life. New friends, new neighbors, new job… It all made you feel like you were in a dream. Everything was too perfect. Until one day you heard a loud noise in your house then everything went black. That was when he took you for himself. The first year was like hell. You were constantly trying to escape, breaking everything in the house and throwing fits. But could you really do anything to harm him? That mountain of a man? He could kill everyone who was in his way. And unfortunately the destination was you. It was almost pitiful that how desperate he was for you. He didn’t really hurt or hit you. Even when you tried to escape he just found you and brought you back to his house. In his words “Our home.”

“Maus.” he purred as his hand slide underneath your t-shirt caressing your waist. His lips inches away from yours aching to capture them. Your eyes opened slowly when you felt and heard him. “I’m home.” he mumbled as he brushed his lips against your cheek. When you finally processed what was going on you tried to move away immediately. “Let go of me!” you scowled and pushed him by his chest. He chuckled lightly and pulled you back to your position on his chest. “The harder you push me, the harder i will pull you back.” he whispered and kissed your cheek. “As much as i love your spirit, i’m tired, Maus.” his voice was giving away how tired he was. Yet there was more. You knew it. “What do you want from me?” you mumbled as you stopped squirming. Your heart was beating like crazy, you knew you had no chance against him. “I want you to love me. But i know it’s too much to ask. I don’t deserve you, meine Königin.” your heart ache for a moment. But then you remembered that he was your captor. Your heart filled with rage again. He smiled softly and caressed your waist. “But you know the other thing i want.” his hand squeezed your waist and his lips brushed against your chin. His lips kissing you wherever he could reach, but your lips.

He still haven’t kissed you since he kidnapped you. He would fuck you until you can’t remember your name but that was it. He told you the reason why he didn’t kissed you during a vulnerable moment of his. He was listening to your heartbeat after a nightmare and speaking to you even if you just caressed his hair and didn’t answered him. “I want to kiss you so bad, Maus. I really do. But i don’t want to ruin you. I’m just a pathetic man who is trying to make you love me. So, i want you to kiss me when you love me.” that was his sweet words before he eat you out. Ironic, isn’t it?

A soft sigh escaped from your lips when he kissed your neck and his hand down your body. “I want you to ride me. I want you to sit on my cock like it’s your throne, meine Königin.” he whispered as he grounded his hard on against your clothed cunt. You whimpered when you felt his hard cock against your stomach. He was away from home for a month and you haven’t since done anything for yourself. So you were already wet for him. “You should take care of your husband~” he purred. “You’re not my husband. You’re just a psycho.” you moaned as he kissed the sensitive skin of your neck. “I suggest you to choose your words wisely, Maus.” he mumbled and bit your shoulder as a warning. “And how could you deny me when you’re this wet f’me, hm?” he chuckled lightly after pushing his fingers into your panties making you shudder and moan. His fingers found your clit and started rubbing it slowly. Making you wetter and ready for him. Your head dropped to his shoulder and small moans escaped from your lips. He groaned when your hot breath hit his neck. His neck was the most sensitive spot on his body. Were you doing it on purpose? Knowing how he cum in his pants when you kissed him on the neck first time?

“Maus stop- i want to cum inside you.” he mumbled and with a quick maneuver you were sitting on top of his crotch. He groaned and his hips buck upwards to meet yours. The thin fabric of your underwears did nothing. He still felt how wet and warm you were. You also whined and rock your hips. You were so desperate for a release and he was the only thing in hand. Your attempts to satisfy yourself was failed because he made you addicted to his big and thick cock, your small fingers weren’t enough. One of your hands rested on his chest as you tugged down your underwear with other. “Scheiße, Maus.” his cock twitched in his boxers at the sight. He knew you wanted him as much as he do. And it made him go feral. But he managed to stay still and watched you. You were aching for his cock but it wouldn’t fit if you weren’t opened enough. Your gaze dropped to his hands on your waist. You took one of his hands and he raised an eyebrow with curiosity but he let you lead it whenever you wanted. You took his middle and ring finger inside your mouth and moaned. Your head spun from just thinking about having it inside your tight cunt. He felt like he was having a heart attack when you sucked and covered his thick and lengthy fingers with your salvia. He let you do all the work as you grounded against his clad cock and wet his fingers. When you took his fingers out of your mouth and gave him a desperate look, he knew what you wanted. So he stuck his fingers into your dripping hole making you whimper and buck your hips. “Just like that, Maus. Ride my fingers.” he fingered your little hole as his free hand supported you by your waist. “So verdammt süß.” he hissed and picked up the pace. His fingers effortlessly finding all the spots in your tight cunt. “You’re so tight, Maus. Did you wait for me like a good wife, hm?” he mumbled as he felt you were close and added another finger. You whined and your walls clenched around his thick fingers. You cum unannounced and he groaned when you cum with just his fingers. “König.” you whimpered and your hands grabbed his forearms when he pulled his fingers out. “I know it’s not enough meine Königin.” he cooed and lifted you up a little to free his precum leaking cock. He didn’t even had the patience to take off his boxers fully. He positioned you on his cock and let you take it in slowly, giving you time to adjust his size. He groaned when your walls sucked him in greedily. “Guess someone missed me.” he mumbled and caressed your hips while you sit on his cock. “Here. Right here is where you belong, Maus.” he grabbed you by hips and made you bounce on his cock. His head tipped back and he let out a low groan. He was living for this moment. When he’s on a mission he would count the days until he meet you again. His beautiful wife.

This position allowed him to be deep inside you and it made you even more desperate. Your moans and whines filled the room as he mercilessly bounced you up and down on his cock. The tip of his cock hit your cervix and you whimpered. “König it’s too deep.” you dug your nails into his forearms. He groaned and picked up the pace. It wasn’t like you were riding him anymore. He was slamming you down on his cock with his giant strength. “Slow down!” you whimpered when he hit your cervix again. “Admit that i’m your husband. Then i will consider.” he growled as he fucked you mercilessly. “Fuck-“ you cried when he didn’t even slow down a bit. “You’re my husband, König. Please.” you managed to say. “Braves Mädchen.” he purred and slowed down just a bit. “Say it again.” he slapped your hips and smirked delightfully. His big hand covered your hips as he slammed his hips into yours rapidly. You slurred that he was your husband over and over until he finally cum deep inside you. He rubbed your clit so you cum along with him.

You collapsed on his chest as he pulled out his cock. His semen dripped from your hole and you buried your head into his neck. You hated him so much for ruining your life but you were also desperate to have his love and affection. “Meine Königin.” he cooed and rubbed your back in small circles. “We’re not finished.” he kissed your forehead when you protested with a whine.

a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked the content ofc <3 your comments also makes my day :* and i try to reply all of them :>

also i post everyday -sometimes 2 posts in a day- so if you follow me i won’t disappoint ;)

i promise i will write the stalker x stalker after this lol

if you liked this story you’ll love this

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andersonlore · 4 months

Text

❝ SUB!ABBY ❞ ✶ ABBY ANDERSON !

♱

★⠀warning y disclaimers — eighteen+, fem!reader, wlw sex, poc!friendly, sub!abby, cheating (on owen), dirty talk, abby gets fucked!, strap on (abby!r), hair pulling.

“you have to be quiet, baby. not unless you want owen to hear? okay?” your hands run over the fat of her butt, guiding her as she rides your strap, the cocked wedged deep within her, nearly causing her to see stars. “hmmm, you know maybe it isn’t such a bad idea for him to hear you.”

you never would have pegged her to be the type for pierced nipples, silver barbell with steel balls accentuating the sensitive bud, a reddish hue due to all your teasing. the small tattoo by her pretty pussy nearly sending you into a downward spiral. all of it combined had you crumbling to your knees, desperate to make her come.

it’s why you’d eaten her out the first time you’d ever been alone with her, the second time you fingered her in a dirty frat bathroom with the sight of sweet cunt as her slick drenched your hand, soaking you in her a nectar you thought would only visit you in your dreams. now, eros gifted you with her another time and you had prepared for this. strap tucked safely in your pants because abby would be here. owen was stupid enough to let her be around you, alone. now, the next time he couldn’t make her cum, she’d think of you.

your cock would never leave her mind, you wouldn’t let it.

abby took a look in the mirror again; the one you demanded to fuck in front it. the tension she held in her shoulders was evident when you suggested it but the beefcake in front of you just needs a little coaxing and you’d happily provide it for her — just like you always did.

“you like riding my cock? you look so beautiful, most gorgeous girl in the world.” your loving words make abby clench our your girth, bouncing on your cock. “tell me baby. c’mon. wanna hear how much you like it.”

abby just nods hoping it’s enough but it’s not.

you smack her ass harshly causing abby to whimper as buck her hips, causing a small bounce and the friction on your clit from the harness is delicious. baby, blue eyes are so wide but she knows better than to stop her pace. as a peace offering she goes faster before she’s attempting to speak.

she can’t voice it, not really. she’s scared of how much she loves it, how every time with owen, or any other man, never felt like this. you don’t pressure anymore, not when there’s only pure concentration laced on her face, furrowed blonde eyebrows as she bounces on your cock. soft, muscular thighs trembling intensely.

“how….how do you make me feel this good?” abby questions as she leans forward, resting her sweaty forehead against yours. you take it as in opportunity to hammer into her. planting your feet, before meeting her thrusts and you feel her back twitch as she whimpers pathetically in your ear, her breathing heavy as she takes it.

the eight inch pink dildo with the thick girth is double what she’s used to, maybe more, and it doesn’t help your filling every inch of her.

in a tight grip, you tug on her braid causing abby to lose it.

“oh, did you like when i pull on your braid, pretty girl?” abby whines when you pull harder, her clit throbbing, the pit in her stomach beginning to fill. she’s bucking her hips like a whole animal, meeting your powerful thrusts, neither of you hear the heavy footsteps approaching.

“yeah, please don’t stop. i’m almost there. fuck, i-i’m going to cum.” the moment she does its a dream come true for you. owen opens the door but abby is too fucked out, caught up in the wave of the earth shattering orgasm she’s riding, her body twitching as she whimpers into your neck.

he looks like he could kill you and if he does, it may be worth it but you decide now is the time to test your luck. the lame excuse of a man always parades abby in your face just because he knows how you feel for her. now you’re going to make him pay for it.

he’s stands there silently with rage as you smack her ass, looking him straight in the eyes as you do so. desperately, abby moans your name as you start to fuck her again. she sits up, but she’s still angled in a way she can’t see owen who looks like he can’t fucking move watching his girlfriend get fucked by the friend he was told to never worry about.

“c’mon angel, bounce on my cock, again. wanna see you squirt for me.” this time abby’s pace is brutal, her beefy body losing control as you make her drunk on your dick. “now tell me what i wanna hear. you know what to say, angel.”

“yeah? want me to say it?” you nod as her weight drops on you every few seconds, nearly causing you to cum in the process.

“you fuck me better than anyone, baby.” owen angrily stomps away causing abby to turn anxiously, realizing whose been behind her this entire time. the look of horror written all over her face, but then you flip her over, pushing her against the furry gray rug.

“thank you for being such a good girl. now, let me fuck my sweet girl’s brains out, yeah?”

#sub!abby rights!#gotta love a good voyerisum #taking a dip in the comphet abby pool #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x masc reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x you #abby anderson tlou2 #abby the last of us #abby x reader #sub!abby anderson #sub abby anderson

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mangocustard16 · 6 months

Text

Seventeen's reaction to you not recognising them when drunk ♡

| genre: fluff

| warnings: mentions of drinking, pet names, cursing, lmk if i missed something

| w.c: 0.5k

| a/n: please reblog if you enjoyed, feedback is always appreciated✿

hhu version | performance unit ver.

S.coups:

he got a call from your friends that you were drunk and rambling about how you missed him and so he came over to get you

"I'M SUPER SHY, SUPER SHY BUT WAIT A MINU-" you were singing screaming at the top of your lungs

"Babe, come on let's go"

"Who are you, sir?"

the man was too stunned to speak

he tried to regain his composure

"I'm your boyfriend love"

"No, my boyfriend, is cute and adorable" you chirp "But-"

"But what sweetheart?" he asked, slowly guiding you to his car

"But he's always busy," you said yawning, as he buckled your seatbelt

he hums and decides, to take the week off to spend some time with you

Wonwoo:

would be complaining, when he got a call from your friends

but his heart will melt after he sees your clingy state

when he asked you to come home with him but you simply refused

"I'm sorry sir, but I have a boyfriend I love"

he wasn't surprised by your drunken behavior and tried to convince you that he was your boyfriend

"No, my boyfriend is way more handsome and stronger, no offense sir"

he wasn't sure whether to take your words as an offense or a compliment

when you continued to ramble about how you had the best boyfriend ever and you weren’t planning on changing him or cheating on him

he'd gladly take you home pretending to be your boyfriend's friend

Mingyu:

he's pouting when you can't recognize him referring to him as your designated driver

"Why are you following me to my front door, sir?"

"Umm...these days we are supposed to make sure our passengers get to their homes safely"

You nod your head, as you try *keyword try* to punch in your house code

he's laughing seeing you struggle and decides to enter the code for you already thinking of an excuse as to how he knows the code

but what he does not expect is you swatting away his hands, saying that he's trying to take advantage of you

"Sir, you're making me feel uncomfortable, please leave or I'll call security," you said, taking out your phone

“Baby you’re so drunk, let me take care of you” he begs

All of a sudden the designated driver is gone here's your boyfriend

"Gyuuuu, you’re here” You smiled and wrapped your arms around him

Vernon:

you had a night out with some friends and your boyfriend was always the person to call when you got hammered

one look and he knew you weren't sobering up tonight

he would take you into his arms and to his car

"Sir, I have a boyfriend, he is very strong. He will beat your ass if you try anything"

"I’m sure your boyfriend wouldn’t mind. And he'd kill me if I didn’t take care of you" he'd say chuckling

"He loves me so much" You would nod agreeing.

Vernon would use this as an opportunity "What about you? Do you love him?"

"I love him this much" you'd say opening your arms like a small kid to show him how much.

@kflixnet @k-labels

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florencemtrash · 4 months

Text

The Artificer: Part I - Azriel x Reader

Warnings: None

✨Based on this ask ✨

Masterlist of Masterlists

"Azriel flipped through the information in his mind like a picture book: She specializes in crafting fae-bonded weapons using autoimmune magic. Brilliant, capable, and loyal - only a fool would underestimate her."

The air burned with unknown magic, mingled with the heady smell of smoke and metal and something else… something sweet and clean. Azriel couldn’t put his finger on it as he followed behind his brothers, weaving through the packed, but homey workshop.

Bookshelves filled with carefully attended tomes on woodworking, metallurgy, glassblowing, and more lined one of the walls, some faint traces of magic keeping them safe from the dust and soot that tended to accumulate in the corners.

The other wall was decorated with an assortment of keys - brass, gold, silver, steel, even glass twinkled in the faelight, like a hundred pairs of eyes winking. When Cassian reached for one, the metal began to glow and spark, spitting out thin bursts of magic that smarted until the Illyrian had the sense to pull away.

When Helion first offered your weapon-smithing services to Rhys, he had sung your praises so loudly that Nyx had awoken from his nap, whining incessantly for his father to rock him back to sleep.

Originally born to noble parents in the Dawn Court. She moved to Day thirty years before Amarantha’s rule to escape an ill-suited marriage and has been quietly designing weapons for Helion ever since. She specializes in crafting fae-bonded weapons using autoimmune magic. Brilliant, capable, and loyal - only a fool would underestimate her.

Azriel flipped through the information in his mind like a picture book, cycling through the lines Helion had spoken and his own independent research. He could recite your birthday, the names of your parents, your grandparents, your older brother who’d been killed in the war against Hybern, and the day you graduated university. He even knew the planned date of your wedding to some pompous Lordling from Summer.

What he didn’t know was what you looked like, and he wasn’t sure what to expect.

Perhaps he’d expected someone more refined and regal - you were of noble blood after all… but then they rounded the corner and your soot-stained face popped out from beneath the workbench, purple lens goggles magnifying your eyes to vibrant proportions.

You flipped the goggles up, resting them on your head like a crown.

Azriel blinked.

Strands of hair curled around your fire-blown eyes, framed by soft skin that had been spared the worst of the soot by your goggles. You looked like you had stepped out of a flame - strong and resilient as steel.

You were absolutely breathtaking.

“Oh shit.” You quietly cursed, bouncing to your feet.

You chucked the gloves to the side, hastily wiping away at your cheeks before dipping into a perfect curtsy. You were an actress caught in the spotlights after an ill-timed curtain opening, and you needed to make up for the poor first impression. You hastily slapped on the costume of the High Born Lady, feeling every etiquette lesson your mother had hammered into you slide over your limbs until you were a puppet on strings.

“My apologies, my Lords. I lost track of time.” The words rolled out automatically, perfectly timed and perfectly pleasant, “Forgive me.”

Azriel frowned. He didn’t like the change that had just taken place.

You held one hand artfully over your chest, the other flowing out to the side as you remained frozen in your bow. His eyes traced over the curve of your neck, catching on the sliver of skin that peeked out from beneath your work shirt, then down the slope of your sturdy shoulders and arms - strong and limber after decades of hammering away at glass and steel.

The High Lord of the Night Court waved off the comment, a charming smile brightening his face as he hoisted you out of your curtsy. If he cared about getting soot on his fine clothes, he didn’t show it.

“There’s no need for any apologies. It’s a pleasure to meet you Y/n. Helion’s told me much about you.”

You blushed, subtly brushing back the hair that stuck to your forehead and wishing you’d taken the time to clean yourself up… maybe wash your face properly and change into cleaner clothes.

“My brothers-” The High Lord swung his arm out in a slash of Night Court velvet, “Cassian and Azriel.”

You had to keep yourself from sighing. They were all terribly attractive. It almost wasn’t fair.

“The pleasure is all mine, High Lord,” You curtsied again, “And Lords.” You appended gracefully.

The High Lord was as sensual and charismatic as everyone said with his twinkling violet eyes and perfect smirk - the kind of smirk that announced to the world that he was very aware of the effect he had on males and females alike.

Your eyes flickered down to the tailored velvet suit. It clung to his body impeccably, carving out his broad shoulders and trim waist. How he wasn’t stifling in the heat was beyond you. The furnace roared a little louder, as if to push the point.

The Lord of Bloodshed - Cassian as he was called - possessed a wilder beauty. He was all hard-cut lines and cords of muscle with a faint brush of stubble along his jaw that suited him well.

But the Shadowsinger. He was the one you had trouble dragging your eyes away from. There was something heartbreakingly solemn about him, like a hero plucked out of a fairytale bound to end in tragedy. The same boyish joy that touched his brothers seemed to have skipped over him, and you couldn’t help but wonder why. In fact he seemed… displeased, and your heart began to beat a little faster.

“Call me Rhys.” The High Lord winked, drawing your attention away from the dark and silent Shadowsinger, “Any friend of Helion’s is a friend of mine, and I like my friends to call me Rhys. It keeps me humble.”

Cassian snorted, “Sure it does.”

He shoved past his brother, settling into a comically wide stance. You tried to disguise your surprise and confusion when he leaned down further to be eye level with you. His eyes twinkled with mischief, as if he’d caught onto the slip in your perfectly tailored costume and he wanted to rip it off and burn it to the ground.

“The name’s Cassian,” He held out his hand for you to shake, “Or Cass,” He tilted his head to the side, deep in thought, “Or Bastard brute, as my wife so lovingly calls me.”

You snorted, then froze in horror, one hand flying up to slap over your mouth. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

Cassian tipped his head back and roared with laughter. It was the kind of sound powerful enough to fill a tavern and made you feel as giddy as three glasses of wine.

Azriel tamped down the jealousy that flared to life in his chest upon seeing that Cassian was the first to make you laugh. Not that he would have been able to make you laugh as easily as breathing… but he could dream.

Your eyes were blown wide, confusion racking your body as every etiquette lesson crumbled into a pile of dust. Your mother had warned you of what to do with males that were too forward, too cold, too dramatic, too charming. But Cassian was a different breed entirely - he was too casual, too friendly and normal. It took you aback.

Rhys rolled his eyes. Leave it to Cassian to make a High Born Lady crack as easily as fresh ice on the Sidra.

Cassian tapped his chest, looking quite satisfied with himself, “There’s no need for bowing or Court pleasantries. Rhysand’s the only one of us with any real house training anyhow. Prissy little Lordling.”

“Hey.”

“You know it’s true, Rhys. You’re wearing fucking velvet.”

Rhys snorted, “Don’t attack me because I have some sense of style.”

You swiveled between the two of them, uncertain of how to continue. “Well I-” You stammered, taking a step back and straightening your shoulders.

Your mother’s words rang through your mind: Don’t slouch.

“Apologies, for my… manners.” You finished lamely.

“Good manners are wasted on Cassian,” Azriel said. Gods, even his voice was tragically beautiful, like the sound of rain drumming against a window, or the crisp call of wind when Autumn sighs its last breath and gives way to Winter. “And Rhysand too, actually.” He added, ignoring the sounds of protest from Rhys and Cassian.

His heartbeat picked up when your eyes fell on him completely.

“Are they wasted on you?” If they were going to act so… uncouth, perhaps that gave you a pass, “Or did I suffer through endless hours preparing for my debutante ball for nothing?”

Azriel tilted his head. He tried to imagine you as a debutante, paraded around to various suitors in a puffy dress like the gods-awful one Feyre had been shoved into for her first wedding, and it left a sour taste in his mouth. But when he tried imagining you in Night Court attire - something blue - he couldn’t help but find that he quite liked the scene he’d conjured up for himself. He smiled - a faint and quiet smile that made your heart go still.

Cassian and Rhys gaped when their brother quietly closed the distance between you two and bowed. He was the picture of grace - deadly, beautiful grace.

Azriel took your hand in his, reveling in the feeling of your calloused fingertips against his scarred palm, and gently brushed his lips against your skin.

“No.” He murmured, casting his eyes up at you. You melted, falling into the molten sea of his hazel eyes, and it wasn’t because of the heat, “Good manners are not wasted on me.” He finished, straightening up and taking a step back.

He didn’t look disappointed anymore. If anything he looked… amused and… at ease.

You tried to imagine him smiling - a true smile full of teeth and unburdened joy - and found you quite liked the image you’d crafted for yourself.

You tilted your head to the side, trying to disguise just how much he’d affected you. One kiss and a look and you were a goner. How silly of you.

“That was quite good. I’ll give you that.”

Azriel tipped his head in a subtle bow, “Thank you, My Lady.”

You scoffed. No one had called you by any proper title in centuries.

“Shall we begin with you, High Lord?” You asked him first out of propriety, missing the faint frown on Azriel’s face.

He knew he shouldn’t take anything personally. This was a business meeting first and foremost, but that didn’t stop the flicker of jealousy from budding in his stomach whenever you laughed at Rhysand’s teasing or whenever he leaned just a little too close to look at the sketches you drew. The only moment of satisfaction he felt was when you slapped Rhysand’s hand away from the wall, choosing to pull the samples from the chestnut shelves yourself before taking notes on the styles he preferred.

Are you ok? Rhysand asked, raising his eyebrows. It was Cassian’s turn now and The Lord of Bloodshed sat beside you, carefully watching your hand drawn sketches come to life.

I’m fine.

You don’t look fine, brother. Rhys said with a smirk, You look like you want to murder Cass.

Azriel wiped the faintest hints of emotion from his face, turning away from Rhys to look around the workroom.

Everything was warm and coated in soft orange light from the raging forge. It felt like the moment before the sun sinks into the horizon, when the world is as syrupy and comforting as caramel. Chestnut bookshelves lined the wall, filled with as many trinkets, plates of armour, and weapons as books. A long workbench ran the length of the room, neat stacks of paper punctuated by gleaming blades of obsidian, moonstone, and steel. It was where you currently sat, outlined by the fire like some angel sent down from the heavens.

Azriel’s eyes stuck on one blade in particular, carefully laid out on a bolt of midnight blue velvet. Its bronze handle gave away to gold threaded steel sharp enough to cut light and shadow. The sheets had been folded over and hammered so many times that thin rivers of radiance twisted and turned down the blade, mirroring the runes that had been painstakingly etched along its spine.

“Lord Azriel?” His head snapped to the side, following your lyrical voice. You’d soundlessly made your way around the table without him noticing and now stood at his side, “Do you like anything you see?”

Azriel froze. From this close up he could see the faintest gold flecks in your eyes, as though a forge was burning there too, some piece of you always hammering away at an anvil… but maybe that was just the hammering of his heart.

Cassian coughed. Loudly. Rhysand smirked, elbowing his brother, but Cassian was successful. Whatever spell had come over the Shadowsinger broke and color dusted his cheeks.

“It’s just Azriel - or Az. Either works.” He was technically a Lord… emphasis on technically. “Could you tell me about this one?” He pointed to the brilliant blade, hating the sight of his ruined hand so close to it.

You picked it up with ease, spinning it around your body with a strong grace that made Azriel’s breath catch. You weren’t the most skilled swordsman by any means, but you knew enough. After all, if you were going to spend your life making swords you’d be damned if you couldn’t wield one properly.

“This one,” You said with a smile full of pride, “Is Sunseeker.” The blade began to glow, content to once again be in the hands of its master, “It took me decades to figure out how to bind weapons to one master, but once I did - well - I thought if anyone should have that kind of weapon first it should be me.”

To your surprise, a faint smile graced Azriel’s lips. It was such a minor display, but it brightened the air around him. Even his shadows began to emerge, wrapping around his arms and inching towards you like a moth to a flame.

Sunseeker truly was a work of art, beautiful and deadly in equal measure.

Cass whistled low, coming closer to admire it. “How does weapon binding work?” He asked curiously.

Your eyes lit up mischievously, “Would you like me to demonstrate?”

Cassian had just enough time to say “yes” and stretch out his hands before you handed him the blade and he dropped like a stone.

“CAULDRON FUCK ME!”

Rhysand sputtered, doubling over in laughter. Azriel snorted, a hand flying up to cover his mouth in surprise. They watched Cassian fall to his knees on the floor, grasping the handle of the blade that felt two thousand pounds heavier in his hands.

You looked rather pleased with yourself.

Cassian growled, bracing his feet on the floor and pulling up so hard Azriel could see the veins pop out of his neck. “Fucking hell.” He said through gritted teeth.

“Come on, Cass. Get up.” Rhysand teased, shoving his brother with the toe of his boot.

Cassian kicked him in the knee, but from his position the blow didn’t land properly, “I would if I could, you son of a b-”

“Don’t talk about my mother like that.”

“Fuck you.”

“Just. Get. Up.”

“I. Can’t. You piece of shit. I can’t let go of this gods-damned sword.”

Azriel shifted closer to you, heavily amused as Rhys leaned down and grabbed hold of the hilt. His signature charming smile slid off his face.

“What the fuck-” He pulled once. Twice. Tried to pry his fingers off the hilt, but he couldn’t let go no matter how hard he tried. It was as though he’d been glued to a boulder.

Cassian smirked, “I told you.”

You smiled up at the Shadowsinger as the pair continued to bicker, stretching up on your toes to whisper in his ear, “Hardly anyone knows about what I do so I have my fun when I can.”

He fought not to shiver, feeling your breath curl around him as intimately as his shadows. Azriel chuckled - a low rumble in his chest that reverberated through your bones.

“And how many have fallen victim to your tricks?” He asked. His voice was as smooth as butter and honey to your ears. “Just three. Your brothers and Helion.”

“Helion?”

You nodded.

“I would have paid good money to see that.”

You grinned, leaning closer to him. Without a second thought, Azriel leaned in as well, as if he were a light-starved flower and you were the sun.

“Sunseeker is bound to me - tied to my magical signature and my blood. To me, she’s as light as a feather. To anyone else, she may as well be a mountain.”

“And why can’t they let go?”

“It’s another trick. If anyone tries to go for my weapon, they’ll be brought down to the ground and I’ll have enough time to kill them first.” You cleared your throat, “Not that I’m a naturally violent person but… well it doesn’t hurt to be smart about it.”

“I would agree with you.” Az smiled once again, “Incredible.” He whispered, looking you in the eye, “You’re incredible.”

You shifted on your feet, clasping your hands behind your back and looking away so he wouldn’t see how much his praise affected you.

“If you two are done flirting with one another, can you please help us?” Cassian grumbled. Rhys and Cass had both given up, opting to sit cross legged on the floor like a pair of scolded children.

You hurried over, muttering sheepish apologies. You’d overstepped and you knew it but… well they just seemed so casual with one another and with you that you’d forgotten they were highly powerful fae first, and your clients second.

The spell broke the moment you touched the sword, Cass and Rhys groaning in relief and jumping to their feet. You polished off the sword and placed it back on the table.

“Ta da.” You wiggled your fingers. Cass huffed and Rhys cleaned off his clothes with a sweep of his hand.

Az leaned down and spoke in your ear, hazel eyes glowing, “I think it’s my turn now.”

You shivered, feeling both small and powerful under the weight of his gaze. Azriel decided to forgo the chair, choosing instead to kneel beside you. One arm rested on the back of your seat, hovering dangerously close to your shoulder blades as you repeated the same questions you’d asked Cassian and Rhys.

You jotted down notes diligently and Azriel took the time to admire your neat and simple handwriting. Your hand stilled over the paper as a tendril of darkness curled around your fingers. Azriel sat so close that your head swam with his scent. He smelled like winter mountains after rainfall - crisp and clean like a breath of fresh air. His shadows had similarly begun to wrap around you like an Autumn breeze, slipping through your hair and around your neck like they wanted to feel the pulse of your beating heart.

Azriel swore under his breath, pulling them back as quickly as he could, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

“I like them.” You said quietly, registering the shock in Azriel’s hazel eyes. You quickly went back to your sketch, “They remind me of home.”

As a final step you took their measurements - the length of their arm, shoulder width, the distance between their hips and knees. Measuring Cassian and Rhysand went without incident, although they did poke fun when you pulled out a stepladder.

“It’s not my fault you’re all so ridiculously tall,” You grumbled, stretching out the tape across Azriel’s shoulders, “Did your mother fuck a tree?”

The Illyrian snorted, “I wish.” He flinched once the words left his mouth, his smile twisting into a grimace.

“Hmmm?” You hummed curiously. Azriel felt your breath brush against the nape of his neck and shivered.

“A tree might have treated her better than my…” Azriel trailed off.

You’d been too young to attend Court when you still lived with your parents in Dawn. But even so, whispers of the Night Court were always followed by discussions of Amarantha’s whore and the Illyrian bastards.

His wings drooped and from the corner of your eye you saw Cassian’s gaze fall to the ground. Even Rhys bristled, the charisma sliding off his skin and replaced by something colder.

He loved his brothers more than himself, and the lack of a blood connection had never minimized the fact that they were his family - his legitimate family. He liked you, but one wrong word about his brothers and he would take his business elsewhere, no matter how talented you might be.

Azriel dared to glance at you, wondering if some part of you believed in the truth - that they were bastards unworthy of attention and respect in the eyes of true high fae nobles, or anyone for that matter. Even in your mussed up clothes you were radiant, carrying yourself with a confidence and grace that came from birth as much as it came from upbringing.

You were royalty… and Azriel suddenly didn’t seem worthy of your attention, even though he was craving it right now.

Your lips tightened into a flat line, anger flaring up in your deep eyes, but you swallowed that anger and channeled the energy into making the brothers laugh once again, “Well I’ll go down on a limb and tell you trees are fantastic lovers.” You said, followed by a cheeky wink.

Cassian turned to look at you, absolutely dumbfounded. Rhys was similarly shocked, violet eyes twinkling and mouth twisting into a smile. But it was Azriel who broke the silence first, tipping his head back and laughing so hard that his shoulders shook from the effort. The sound rang through the workshop, like the sound of rain falling. Cassian and Rhysand joined soon after, clutching their stomachs and leaning against chairs and tables for support.

You bowed dramatically, arms sweeping to the sides like a tropical bird, “Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all evening.”

And Azriel took that very seriously. After the sketches were finalized and the blood samples were collected to be bound to metal, Azriel hung close to you, quietly begging Rhys with his eyes to stay longer. They wouldn’t be back for another six months after this.

Rhysand raised his eyebrow knowingly at Cassian and The Lord of Bloodshed smirked.

“Y/n,” Rhys said, voice dripping with persuasion, “Are you hungry? Perhaps you’d like to join my family for dinner?”

You blushed at the invitation, “That is very kind of you, but I think I’ll stay here and work on these further.” You shook the papers in your hand, “I don’t want to forget anything.”

“At least let us bring you food then,” Cassian jumped in quickly, “Az! Why don’t you keep our favorite artificer company until we come back.”

Azriel blanched, stiffening up like a board. He could admire you in the company of his brothers when you were distracted, but he would be hopeless if left alone. “Cass, I don’t think-”

“Oh, I don’t want to take up-” You stammered.

“What a wonderful idea,” Rhys clapped Cassian on the back, all but shoving him back the way they’d originally came, “We’ll be back soon!”

The door hissed closed behind them and you blushed, daring to glance over at the Shadowsinger. At least he also looked flustered. You could find comfort and hope in that.

“I guess it’s just us now.” You murmured.

His eyes softened, taking in your figure, “I guess so.”

You spent hours talking with him that night, both of you leaning over the tables as you discussed your work and what your life in Dawn had been like. Your parents’ marriage had been arranged in haste after a drunken one-sight stand resulted in your brother’s conception. There was little love to begin with, but after his still-birth, whatever affection had existed between them vanished into thin air. You’d been born seventy-three years later - a true born noble in name only. Your parents never hated you, although sometimes you wished they did. Their indifference was a unique pain that you’d never been able to shake off.

But Azriel… Azriel was anything but indifferent. He hung onto every word like it was liquid gold dripping from your lips, and you did the same. Clutching what he said like pearls and committing them to memory.

You couldn’t hide your disappointment when Cassian and Rhys finally reappeared four hours later. “Oh.” You whispered, pulling your hands away from where they brushed against his on the table.

“Apologies, it took so long.” Rhys grinned.

He didn’t look sorry at all. In fact, he looked very pleased to see you and Az pressed together, sharing the same seat despite the empty chairs scattered about the room.

Azriel was less pleased and Rhys didn’t miss the faint frown on his brother’s lips as you begrudgingly reclaimed a seat of your own, nestled between Azriel and Cassian. He also didn’t miss when one of Azriel’s shadows curled around the leg of your chair and tugged you closer to him.

You listened to the brothers talk. Rhys and Cassian carried the weight of the conversation, as they usually did, bickering over lunch leftovers and proudly discussing the progress their mates were making with their respective projects - Feyre with her art studio and Nesta with her Valkyries. Azriel’s shadows shrank away, a glint in his eye dimming when the subject came up.

You stole a glance, watching him carefully. When he caught you staring you smiled and some of that glimmer came back.

“Can I see you again?” Azriel asked quietly once you’d finished eating. Rhys had already cleaned up the food scraps with a snap of his fingers and now lingered by the door, speaking with Cassian.

You looked puzzled, “Won’t you be here when the swords are ready? It shouldn’t take longer than six months. Maybe less. And I can still make adjustments then, if you don’t find it to your liking.”

Azriel shook his head, smiling softly, “No I meant before that.” He glanced at his brothers - his lovingly overbearing, nosy, matchmaking brothers, “Just us again.”

Your heart skipped a beat, tempo quickening after the momentary stillness. “Oh.” You breathed, “I would like that. I would like that very much.”

“Good.” Azriel took your hands in his, feeling the rough calluses of your palm against his scarred skin. He pressed a kiss to both hands, then looked at you, “Until next time then.”

Azriel could never regret meeting you that day, nor could he completely regret seeing you the next week… and the week after that… and the week after that. He burrowed underground with you, sought after the warmth of your home and of your heart like a moth to a flame, daring to brush closer and closer with every beat of his wings.

But it had been a mistake to visit you so often, and so brazenly. Here, in the safety of your workshop, he forgot there were fires that were not so nurturing and lovely. And he forgot that there were others who sought your power and not just your company.

Next Chapter ->

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