#i need my money just like these mercs | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

b0xerdancer-writes · 26 days

Text

Baring Teeth

Azriel x Archeron!Reader

Summary: Azriel and reader are mates, after what has felt like a lifetime to them with how fast life has seemed to move Azriel finds himself wanting what his brothers have, his mate having been through hell and back is willing to give him whatever she can.

Warnings: Some smut scenes, death, violence, war, torture, blood, inappropriate language and jokes, this is entirely an 18+ work.

Word Count: 14,099

Notes: This was meant to be that Azriel baby fever fic from the get-go, but I got sidetracked, it gets there eventually. Lemme know if you would like to see a part 2!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you asked Azriel he was anything but a jealous male, if you asked his mate however she would tell you it was circumstantial at best.

It had been only a handful of years since my sisters had destroyed the cauldron and the king of Hybern but life seemed to want to fasten its pace. I couldn’t say I didn't blame it for wanting too either. Being born between Nesta and Elain always had its challenges, my mother favored Nesta as the first born and both of my parents always doted on Elain for her sweet, caring, and gentle nature; I had always just been there neither parent cared what I did and that was amplified when Feyre was born. I used the opportunity to learn something unique for my family, how to wield a sword, to fight, to kill. I used the opportunity to learn from guards, sell swords, mercenaries, and what teachers were available to me.

So when my family lost all of their money I announced I’d be working as a sellsword, Nesta had thrown a fit about it but at this point she threw a fit about everything. I had a small amount of gold stashed for myself so when my parents finally decided to marry me off I’d run and buy all the things I needed to start my career as a sellsword, or mercenary, or just whatever I ended up becoming; I’d announced I was going into town and slipped out the door with the bag of coins strapped to my waist. I had bought a few furs, a good quality sword that would get me through till I could buy a better one, some bags I was able to strap across my body, and some easy traveling clothes, and some small pieces of leather. I knew if I was going to be gone they would need some way to be able to get food; I split my coin down the middle and used half of what I had left to buy them food, the other half I’d save for travel expenses.

I dropped the food off with my sisters and father, then slipped back out the door after a quick goodbye and made my way towards one of the nobles' nearest estates. One of my teachers had written to me when he found out about my family's misfortune and told me he was stationed there and would recommend me to the lord he worked for, all I had to do was show up. I Showed up like he said, not to the front door but to the side door, the servants quarters and there I was greeted by my teacher and some other for hire guards who all coaxed me in with pats on my back and one went to fetch the head of staffing. It was an easily acquired job with a recommendation from my teacher and the other guards that had greeted me at the door, an even easier job to perform with good pay; simple patrols and hunting shifts at 50 gold a day.

While I was there the barracks became my home, the other sellswords and mercs became family and before I knew it I was going out with them on the days we were released and getting drinks and celebrating. I had a pretty good stash of gold saved up, kept it in a nice bag that my belt strapped through and kept it firmly against my hip, I would write to my sisters and send them 10 gold once a week to help keep them fed. If I sent more I knew Nesta or Elain would commandeer it and use it on useless things, they could at least stock up on a good amount of fillers like rice or barley with 10 gold.

They never wrote back, it was probably a good thing in hindsight. Had any of them mentioned Feyre being taken by the fae I would have gone right after her, but there was no mention of it to me until I got a letter from Nesta one day saying they had been moved into a new estate and father’s fortune had been restored by some sheer dumb luck. I wrote back congratulating them but making them aware I had no intention of giving up my post; then the next letter came written by Nesta again it had said something was wrong with feyre, telling the story of what had actually happened while I was gone. It had told me that Feyre had been taken by some fae monster that then she had returned after that first letter had been sent to me but had to leave again to go after some male she loved, but that this time she called the same male she left for the first time a monster and had appeared at the estates doorstep with three males on her heels and asked for us to hear them out. I didn’t bother writing back, Nesta had sent that letter the same day. If I took a horse I’d be at where they mentioned their estate was within two hours, so I stepped down from my post and was told if I ever needed it to come right on back to them; I set out towards my family's estate with a large fur on my back to battle the chill winds, when I arrived a staff member took the horse and showed me inside.

Nesta was the first to greet me, pulling me in for a hug and telling me how proud she was that I made something of myself; she told me how tense the atmosphere had been since Feyre showed up with the males, that feyre was now a member of the fae and she had somehow been changed into one of them. I had nothing against the civil fae but we were close enough to the wall some strays would slip through and tear apart weaker humans, I had helped the barracks crew take down some rogues that slipped past the wall on a few occasions; nothing big, nagas as I had been told were the most common ones we faced.

Stepping into the room elain squealed and buried herself into my side and the fur I wore, I heard Feyre call out to me with hesitancy as her eyes raked over the small scars the littered my exposed skin from the fights in the woods or sparring accidents; I motioned her over and pulled her into a hug, fae or not she was still my family and still my baby sister. The fae behind her had introduced themselves and their positions, they seemed to have no qualm with me but with Nesta and Elain. One wrong comment sent Elain into tears while she profusely apologized to Feyre, the two had their moment but it didn’t set right with me; yes they were in the wrong for doing nothing while Feyre hunted almost daily for them and I was off working, but they very obviously realized they had fucked up and were in the wrong. It did not mean they got to insult my family and I made sure they knew that, one of the males the tallest with the biggest wings there that I would later come to know as Azriel, seemed amused with my wild and protective temper and applauded me for it.

They later left with promise to come back soon, I busied myself with the guards and servants we had around the estate by leading patrols and hunting parties myself; I stayed out of most of their business so the next time I saw them I had just returned from a hunting party, dragging a decent sized deer to the kitchen. The tall male found me there in the kitchen caught off guard when he found me there, sleeves rolled up and cloak tossed to the size with a butcher knife in my hand while dismembering the deer; he had introduced himself to me then, as Azriel, and offered to help. I tossed him the hide and asked him to bring it out back, string it up on the dry rack. He agreed, I’d get around to curing the skin of the hide after I finished drying and preparing the rest of the meat; when he returned I had already stored all the meat away and was by the sink basin washing the deers dark blood from off my hands, I looked up at him from the corner of my eye and watched as his breath hitched and he quickly excused himself from the room.

Nesta was the one who collected me when the queens were on their way, a new member had joined us in the living room that I had not recognized but she introduced herself as Mor; I stood silently like a guard myself when the human guards joined us, silently judging them as my sister and ‘her mate’ as she had called him explained to the queens what they needed. The meeting was surprisingly quick, the queens leaving just as quickly as they had arrived. We ate dinner together like a family that night, Azriel made small talk with me about my skills and training; I had to admit to myself that I found it endearing no one else even my sisters cared or dared, I wasn’t sure which it exactly was with them, to ask me about it.

They left the next morning, and life returned to normal once the servants themselves returned; Oftentimes I got incredulous looks for being in the back working on my pelts or sparring with the dummy I had ordered set up when I returned to the estate, other times the children of the servants were more than ecstatic to ask me of tales I had experienced within the woods. I had ended up using that deer hide in my cloaks, something about it was sentimental to me, though I couldn’t quite place why.

A few weeks later, my nerves were on end, like the times when the entire barracks would ride out together hunting a naga or other rogue beast and we weren’t quite sure where they were lurking. I didn’t bother changing out of my armor and cloak. I should’ve trusted my gut that night, as I was unable to find sleep easily and only able to fall asleep with my blade at my side and a dagger under my pillow. I awoke to screaming from down the hall, Elain’s scream, I burst out of my room blade in hand knocking a few of them off their feet as the door collided with them.

One thing that had been instilled into me over the time with my teachers was the fact the bigger you looked the more intimidating you could be, my piled furs and cloak were an extension of that teaching; a large black wolf pelt was my crowning piece on my shoulders the, the deer hanging over my shoulders under that like a shawl.

The fae turned to look at me in the faint light and darkness of our home, needless to say the illusion I was aiming for had worked on them as I heard several yell, “Beast!”, in alarm at me. And beast I was, I had taken down and decapitated several of them before they finally apprehended me in my war path to get to Elain and Nesta, the latter I realized had been gagged and I saw blood on her face; ever the fighter she was I had seen one of them holding her nursing one of his hands over the other and had surmised she had bitten him, and taken a chunk from his hand. I’d have to applaud her eventually for that, it was genius thinking and she was always so much smarter than she let on. They doused us with some sort of potion or substance that swept Elain under immediately, Nesta fought off the sleep as much as she could but after a few seconds went under herself; I fought against them straining and struggling, teeth bared, fighting off the sleep that coaxed me at the edges of my mind till they had to use another dose to put me under.

I awoke to chaos. So much was happening. Azriel and Cassian were insanely injured but still trying to fight the bane in their systems to crawl to us. Feyre bawling. Two males and a female I didn’t recognize beside her. The male I had been introduced to as Rhysand was in pain himself. A large male in the center of the room. Two guards either side of Elain hauling her up. A large thing that didn't seem natural in the center of the room. Nesta had three guards around her. I had seven. The seven I realized were on edge around me, made uneasy by me. Made uneasy even though I was restrained in any way they could think of. I felt like a beast surveying its options of prey to hunt.

The large male in the center, realizing all of us were finally awake, finally introduced himself as the King of Hybern, a name I recognized Azriel’s family talking about at the meeting. The King introduced the strange object as ‘The Cauldron’, Azriel had mentioned it was something akin to a god to them. Not natural indeed. He motioned for the guards to bring Elain forward as he explained his plan, the guards raised her over the large pot; she screamed and thrashed in their grip, red marks and bruises already appearing on her skin. I saw red. I shot forward, catching all the guards around me by surprise as they scrambled to get ahold of my restraints and chains; they stopped me just as Elain went under, my arms were pinned behind my back by a chain and I snarled, insults and threats falling from my mouth. I heard Nesta react similarly yet not as violently as I was, seemingly stunned by everything going on, or maybe it was just her cold mask refusing to let the King and our enemies see how much she was fazed.

The king simply let out a dark laugh. “The feral beast bares her teeth.” It was meant as a condescending remark.

They pulled Elain out of the cauldron and I jolted forward towards her again, catching the ones holding my chains off guard and several of them fell to the floor from the sudden jerk forward that caused them to lose their footing. One of the males at Feyre’s side mumbled something I didn’t catch thanks to the blood pounding in my ears, and my attention caught on him and the blondes beside him; he straightened eyes, or eye, wide and he stumbled back. I turned my attention back to the so-called ‘King’, promises of death dripping like venom from my teeth; I barely caught the fact Rhys or maybe it was Mor had pulled Elain to their side of the room.

The King tilted his head at me, an amused smile on his face as he spoke to me. “You want to behave like a beast? So be it.” He turned his attention to the seven around me. “Get her in that cauldron I don’t care how.”

A chorus of yes sirs surrounded me and the chains began to dig into my skin as they tried to pull me towards the over-sized cooking pot. I had just started to lose my footing when a weak call came from my right, giving me just enough motivation to regain it.

“Fight them! You’ve taken down worse things than them! They are nothing compared to those Nagas in the woods! Come on! I believe in you! Show them those techniques you told me about!” Azriel had braced himself on one elbow wincing against the fae bane in his system.

I nodded and braced myself the best I could, the guards stood on the other side of the pot as me and I turned slightly as I let out a snarl like smile. They looked between each other in worry as I dug my boots into the ground and hauled ass the other direction, dragging one of them too close to the cauldron they tripped, losing control of the chain and fell in screaming himself. One of the others dropped a chain to the floor, giving me more breathing room, to help the screaming male out of the pot; he trashed on the floor ripping his armor off exposing his skin that had begun boiling and simply falling off.

The others tightened their grip on my chains but were distracted by the horror of the scene, the one that had helped him out screamed and began throwing up. I heard Nesta cheer behind me, and I turned my attention to what seemed like the now weakest guard holding my chains; I charged forward, the male screamed in horror as I caught him off guard and took a page out of Nestas book and sunk my teeth into his throat. Just as I was expecting the guards on the opposite side pulled violently and assisted me in pulling his throat out, I wasn’t going to go down easy, and by whatever gods did exist it was going to be violent and bloody. He grasped his hollowed throat and tried to scream as he collapsed and I spit the wad of torn flesh towards the King’s feet; I was down to four guards , but what I didn’t account for was the backwards motion created by the other 3 guards.

I had collided with the side of the cauldron and howled out in pain, the guards took the opportunity to haul me up; I tried thrashing but every time I moved pain shot through my body. Unable to struggle against the water as it pulled me in I snapped at the guard trying to push my head under’s hand, taking a few fingers with me as I finally submerged.

It was dark for a moment, then I was in an open room able to stand on my feet and move without pain. I heard shuffling somewhere opposite me, the more I moved forward so did it; till I was face to face with a giant beast, black and golden brown, eyes that seemed to look into my soul, and grand antlers with flesh hanging from them. The sickening feeling like I was looking in a mirror sunk into my chest, when I moved the beast moved.

Then it finally spoke, yet it didn’t at the same time. Something ancient I couldn't understand or speak. Yet intrinsically I knew what it was asking me. That if my true nature was like that of the beast itself, that I should just give in. That if I did I would bring all my enemies to their knees, take them all to their graves. It asked if I would accept that part of me, asked if I would accept its offer of power. I nodded, and it stepped forward lowering its head to my level. I stepped forward meeting it there in the middle of the never ending, ethereal space. It pressed its head against me, and then I was taking a large gasping breath as I felt my bones break and reforge, a blinding pain before I could see detail so much sharper then I had been able to, could hear everything as every sense in me heightened. I felt stronger, felt faster, like one of the beasts I hunted in the woods with my friends in the barracks. Then I felt the inky thickness of the Cauldrons water again, I could see my own hands and claws as I reached out and felt the cool metal; I felt the chains around me tighten again ever so slightly before they fell away as I began to haul myself from the black water. It sloshed and spilled over onto the floor as I emerged, blacker than the depths of the shadows that followed me through the woods in the late hours of the night.

I swallowed a breath as I hauled myself over the edge of the cauldron and finally collapsed on the floor; I used my hands to keep me from fully collapsing as I kneeled there and looked up at the King, a deadly promise in my eyes as I snarled a simple “Your head will be mine and I’ll enjoy every minute of it.”

My hair hung in my face, droplets of black water slowly fading to a normal color as I dried, and he smiled in amusement. “Once a beast always a beast.”

I took a breath and looked down at the puddle on the floor, my firs were still wrapped around me though sopping wet but it wasn’t my obviously messed up appearance that shocked me, but the eyes that looked back at me that did. Thin slits like the beast I had seen within those waters stared back, the color still my own but so much different. I heard Azriel call out for me in a strangled noise, I turned my attention sharply towards him to find him looking devastated; I wanted to comfort him, he was such a good male and I was in so much pain I was exhausted, I hauled myself shakily to my feet barely able to make it to him as I collapsed at his side. Nesta called out to me as my vision began to fade, and I saw Cassian lurch forward despite the threat to his life as he screamed for her. I lost my vision just ;as she was going under’ the simple threat to the king, so much calmer than my own, made me smile before I passed out.

I had despised waking up in places I was unfamiliar with, I shot up with a growl before wincing and clutching my side. A small female attempted to calm me down to no avail, till I heard Azriel’s weak voice through the haze.

“Hey Wildling, woah, woah, they are just trying to help. They’re our healers. You're in the Night Court, remember me telling you about this place?” He was on a cot in just his leather pants, a large white bandage around his waist, chest, over one shoulder, and around his massive wings.

I nodded and looked around slowly, all the fae were looking at me terrified and on edge, like they would run from the room at the slightest growl from me.

“Sorry, just caught by surprise.” I mumbled and looked down at the bandages around my own waist, they covered my chest and entire torso.

I didn’t really care about modesty, you live with men for long enough especially mercs and sellsword men that you stop caring, and they stop caring about your own body. Many times I hade changed into my uniform or hunting clothes in front of them while we were all getting ready for the day's assignments. I scanned over the bandages no blood leaked through but everytime I moved It hurt, everytime I took too deep a breath it hurt.

“I’m sure from your experience you can gather what happened?” Azriel’s voice was soft, and a comfort. I wouldn’t admit it, yet anyways until I found out everything that was going on, but I had started to consider him a friend or maybe something even more; I mean those wings were fascinating and from the time we aparred in the back he had experience and when my knee had met his crotch in a low blow, after all who fought fair anymore, he was well endowed.

“I’m one of you now, aren’t I? Elain and Nesta too, just like Feyre.” I quirked a brow at him and he nodded.

“And as for your injuries, what do you assume happened?” He quirked a brow right back at me, a test of my knowledge like we had done with sparring.

“Broken ribs? That pull back had to have enough force to break them, especially when I collided with the cauldron. Severe bruising and maybe even some large gashes? Those chains were tight enough there had to be at least major bruising.” I winced as I adjusted how I was seated.

He nodded with a smile. “Correct to an extent, good job wildling.” His wings flared as he adjusted himself, and I wanted to move forward and help him adjust slow enough he wouldn't hurt himself.

He smiled when I extended my hand to stop him. “Hey im okay, i'm more worried about you right now, I’ve been shot down from the sky with fae bane arrows and survived it. I'll be fine. You however are the one I’m worried about, those chains were tugged back tight enough it had shattered your ribcage and popped at least one of your lungs. Thankfully the fae healing kicked in for you fast enough to keep you alive.”

I nodded in stunned silence. “Just sore and it hurts to move i. Sone directions, I'm breathing fine now.”

“Good! Madja, shes our lead healer here, was worried your healing wouldnt work fast enough since you were freshly made.” Azriel told me in a worried tone, but I could feel it in my chest, feel just how worried he was in my heart; could feel his emotions as well as my own.

I tilted my head in confusion and reached for where I felt him in my chest, my brows furrowed and he straightened.

“Are you okay?” He looked anxious like he was about to call for one of the nurses to help me.

“Im fine just confused? You told me all that information in a worried tone but I felt it here,” I motioned to my chest, “Like it was my own emotion.”

Small gasps echoed across the room and the small nurses fled. Azriel rose from his bed slowly and came to sit at the edge of mine.

“You feel it too then.” He spoke softly to me like he was calming a storm. “I wasnt going to mention it to you right away, both Nesta and Elain didn’t have the best reactions to suddenly having mates.”

“Mates?” I tilted my head quizzically at him. “I’ve heard the word, though I’m not a hundred percent sure what that means or what is expected of me.”

He placed his hand on mine. “Like Feyre and Rhys right?” I nodded. “The Mother, you remember her right? I mentioned she was another one of our ‘gods’ as well.” I nodded again, listening intently.

“Well,” he hummed trying to consider how to word something.”She blesses some fae with mates, or whats called ‘the mating bond’ its a soulbond between two people normally between two fae. Though admittedly both Rhys and I felt it with you and Feyre while you were still humans.”

I moved to squeeze his hand softly with my own. “So, our souls are intertwined with the others?”

He nodded. “That's one way to put it,while you didnt feel it snap till you were turned most likely, i felt it that day I walked into the kitchen to find you washing the blood off your arms and hands. You were just, how do I put it into words, Ethereally beautiful? Darkly enchanting? I don’t know how to word it but you get the picture. I felt the bond snap in my chest and I almost lost myself to the emotions when you looked up at me the way you did, like a flirtatious taunt.”

A blush crept up his face and I felt it creep up my own. I felt his adoration seep into my own chest again and I looked up at him in pure adoration back. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?” He smiled.

“Make me feel what you’re feeling?” I furrowed my brows for a second as I tried to send my emotions to him, to show him how I’ve felt about him for a while now without realizing it.

He moved his hand to his own chest, and tears welled in his eyes. “I didn’t even have to explain it to you, see? You’ve already picked it up. All the love you're pushing through to me. Good Job wildling.”

I smiled but then frowned. “I get the physical connection of it now but what is expected of me?”

He smiled and caressed my face gently, thumb running over my cheek bone. “As of right now? Nothing. But if you decide you want to accept it or reject it, then we will have more to discuss.”

I nodded and went to open my mouth but he interrupted me first. “I don’t want you to make a decision right now. Think on it for awhile, process all the changes to your life first okay wildling?”

He smiled sadly and I nodded. I could feel his sadness through the bond though I could tell he wasn't trying to make me feel it, I just could, probably easier than most I assumed since every other sense of mine was heightened. A soft knock rasped against the door and my attention shot to it, Azriel called for whoever it was to come in. Rhys had pushed his head in followed by his entire body.

He nodded at the two of us. “I see you’re both doing well, I owe the both of you an explanation and update on everything.”

So we sat, we sat and listened as Rhys gave us the rundown. How and why Feyre was in the spring court, how she was our inside girl, how eventually she would return. Explained to us Cassian was still out, having experienced a higher dose of fae bane than Azriel, but while he was healing slowly he was still healing and would be okay. Then he finally turned his attention solely on me and gave me a rundown on Nesta and Elain’s health. I must have pushed my grief down the bond to Azriel before the tears had even reached my eyes, because he was already comforting me when the dam burst. Rhys stood silent in front of us, before he congratulated us on our bond and offered me any assistance I would need in adjusting or helping my sisters adjust to the massive change in our lives. Eventually he left ,after some small talk with Azriel, to check on Cassian.

Then it was just me and Azriel again, for the next few weeks it stayed just me and Azriel in our small medical room with check ins from Rhys and Madja. We eventually got the clear and along with that cane the announcement Cassian was awake, we beelined it to his room; he was still on bed rest and would be for the next handful of days as they double checked everything had healed properly and assessed the damage. I was shown to my room right next door to Azriel’s, inside a neatly wrapped box in a blue bow sat on the foot of my bed.

“I asked Rhys to pick it up for me.” He smiled and sent a wave of adoration into my chest.

Opening the box I found a set of folded clothing black pants and a flowy comfy dark blue shirt. I sent a wave of appreciation his way and fingered the silky fabric. “Thank you Az, this is… probably the nicest set of clothing I’ve ever had.”

“Your welcome wildling.” He leaned down to press his forehead to my shoulder. His actions caught me by surprise and nearly had me crying, it was such a pure act of surrender and love; my breath caught in my throat and I had to swallow back sobs as I moved one hand to caress what I could reach for the male.

I had made up my mind then and there what my answer to the bond would be, if anyone could guide me and my ways through the sudden changes it was him. I stepped forward and he furrowed his brows but I turned and planted a kiss on his lips. He let out a mixture of a cry and a whimper when I pulled away, his eyes wide and watery; I turned back towards the clothes, not thinking about the implications as I stripped from my current ones and bandages but was stopped before I could step into the new ones laid out in front of me.

Azriel’s breath caught in his throat as he ran a light touch across a lingering bruise on my skin, goosebumps shot up my skin in a wave of chills that caused me to flinch and wince. Azriel growled softly at the thought of me in pain, or at least that's the impression I got from his side of the bond.

He wrapped himself around me, his hands finding purchase on my chest, causing me to swat at him with a light hearted hiss.

He grumbled back at me, rubbing his hand where I had smacked him in mock defeat. “You shouldn’t be so casual about stripping then. Especially being as hurt as you are, the urge to just protect you and curl up around you is a bit overwhelming right now.”

I rolled my eyes and turned back to my clothes, finally stepping into the new ones. “This is nothing compared to what it used to be like in the barracks.”

“What do you mean?” It was slightly growled out, the tiniest wave of jealousy seeping from his soul to mine.

Without thinking about what he meant or the new emotions in my chest I responded to him. “There were maybe 10-15 of us in the barracks total, I was the only female. Not necessarily common amongst sellswords, yet I kept up with all of them. You all become close like family; I'm sure you get how that feels, I mean you, Cass, and Rhys are like that. But after a point you all just change infront of each other and no one really looks or cares anymore, it just becomes natural, part of the routine in the morning.”

I shrugged it off as I shrugged my shirt over my shoulders, still slightly sore when I stretched my arms above my head. Azriel growled but tried to stop himself, an attempt to remember I hadn’t accepted the bond yet so he had no reason to be feeling jealous and territorial. “Ah, I see, I get what you’re saying though I admit I am a bit envious that 10 or 15 males have seen you shirtless before I did.”

I tried, I really did, to prevent the chuckle that fell from my lips. Azriel growled playfully in response. It was comfortable whatever we had, between all their meetings at the house and the now formed bond between us, I felt safe around him. Behind him neatly hung my cloak and furs, sparkling and pristine as the days I had cured them; yet somehow bigger, I understood with a simple what had happened: they had changed with me.

He caught where my eyes had fallen and smiled at me brightly. “Oh! Rhys said he would bring them to your room, I noticed they were different too. You went into the cauldron small yet ferocious enough you unsettled them, they couldn’t figure out how you were outsmarting them or how you had already killed so many of their comrades. But when you came out, they understood how and why. The cauldron however it forged your body anew, decided that for however ferocious and ambitious you were, you would need a bigger vessel to do it in.”

I hadn’t realized it yet but I only stood a few inches shorter than Azriel did now, eye level with his chin and throat; when before I was much shorter, level to his chest at most. It was then that I caught my reflection in the mirror, my features had indeed sharpened or elongated in spots and I gave off a predatory air about myself without even trying; Azriel stood behind me as I took the sight in. While I knew he was no high lord, the way in which he carried himself said otherwise, in the mirror, I realized we looked like the Lord of shadow and the beast that lurked just within it. A display I noted, however beautiful it was just between us, would have horrified onlookers if it was meant to intimidate. A thought I found quite pleasing.

He rested his head on my shoulder and I let out a low purr in response to the imagery in the mirror. “So. Let's say if I were to accept this bond.” He perked up. “What would be expected or asked of me? What would the process of accepting it be?”

His eyes met mine in the mirror, the smallest change in his scent had alerted me to what affect my questions had on him. A small enough change that if my senses hadn’t heightened more than even Azriel or Rhys’s that I wouldn’t have caught it.

“If you were to accept it,” he crooned, “then my answer would stay the same, I expect nothing of you except to accept my love for you and for you to return it back to me. I have waited centuries to find my mate, and you are so new to the world of the fae I want you to be able to explore it but I also want to be a guiding hand for you to do so. As you know I’m Rhys’s spymaster. I may be gone on missions for up to a week at a time, if you wish I can train you even more and you can eventually join me on them.” His shadows swirled at my feet, I had learned to accept them as an extension of himself from the first time we met, where he went they followed. “Is that acceptable?”

I nodded, a warmth in my chest. “And how would consummating the bond work?” A low purr rumbled from my own chest that ended in his own.

“It's a real simple process, a simple ritual, only differing slightly from the human tradition of marriage. Same significance just without rings.” He placed a kiss on my neck before continuing. “One of us cooks for the other, and presents it to the other to eat. Normally it’s something simple, seeing as the hormones and instincts start to affect us from the first bite we normally can’t scarf a whole meal down. Feyre made Rhys soup. Once the food has been consumed, like I said instincts and hormones take us over, reverting us to nothing more than feral creatures intent on fucking our mates till we collapse. That phase normally takes about a week, then it's a phase of adjusting to life together, heightened emotions, territorial instincts, and being inseparable till the bond calms. That phase however differs between mates.” His eyes bore into me in the mirror, the gold flecks in his hazel eyes sparkled in a feral amusement at my reactions as he spoke.

“So all I’d have to do is cook you something?”I tilted my head giving him more access to my neck as he slowly dragged his lips across the open space, in slow tension filled kisses.

“It depends,” He smirked at me, his canine digging ever so slightly into my skin. “On if you had the intention of accepting the bond or not. You have to make and serve me the food with the intention of accepting the bond.”

I shuddered under him. “I take it Rhys has given you some time off from work, to recover and until Feyre updates us on the situation?”

“Possibly.” He nipped at my neck trying to elicit the same shudder as earlier. “Why do you ask?”

I wanted to groan at him. “Maybe I was considering consummating it. But since you won’t give me a straight answer we will have to wait and see.”

I offered him a smirk back only for it to die on my face quickly, between the heat in his eyes and the growl that rose from his chest.

“Wildling.” He warned, “Do not toy with me, if you have the intent to accept the bond, tell me here and now. If you intend to cook for me I will march you straight to the kitchen and barge into Rhys’s office right now to tell him I’ll be taking the week off entirely.”

I swallowed a shaky breath at the pure power and intimidation he oozed when growling like that, his nose twitched and I assumed he picked up the shift in my scent. “So tell me wildling, do you intend to accept it?”

I swallowed and nodded. “Yes, I do.” It was shaky and broken up as I tried to regain my composure.

“Good” That same growl again, had my knees weakening. “Then I’ll show you to the kitchen.”

And so he did, he led me through the winding halls of the house till we were in the large kitchen and he dismissed himself quickly with a kiss lingering on my forehead. I shuffled through the cabinets noting ingredients as I went, trying to figure out something I could make. Meat, I knew how to cook different meats, had hunted and cooked several different kinds of it, whatever I made him I decided I wanted to have meat in it. Beef I thought or some chicken, I jumped out of my boots when a bundle wrapped in brown butcher paper appeared on the counter in front of me; the house was sentient Azriel had told me but I didn’t think it meant like this.

I unwrapped the bundle, white meat and from the looks of it chicken. Easy to cook, easy to pair with any ingredients I found lying around; my attention was drawn towards a fruit bowl, a lemon topping the pile of fruits. How amusing I thought, for the fae to have fruits from the human lands; only when I had pulled a knife from the wooden block and had split the lemon in half did I realize it wasn’t just a lemon, the taste and smell of it were both much sweeter and stronger yet still held a sour note. I found the spice cabinet and went through it, pulling everything I wanted out; a lemon pepper chicken I decided, simple yet enough to keep his energy up.

I had a tendency to keep my guard up unless I was in a place I ultimately felt safe and with Azriel just down the hall I felt safe enough to lose myself in cooking, it was something I had learned I had enjoyed when I was working in the barracks; I’d hunt down whatever tomorrow’s dinner would be then help the chefs prepare it for storage, then take the hides to be cured and turned into blankets for the barracks or depending on the quality of the pelt. Then when I returned to the kitchen the chef would have the night's dinner out and ready to begin preparing. The chef there was an older gentleman with blonde hair that had turned mostly white by the time I met him; he walked me through everything he did, explaining why and answering any questions he had. However, due to my love for the craft I found it easy to lose focus of the world around me and let my guard down; which was fine, until it wasn’t.

I had been so distracted pan searing the chicken that even with my heightened hearing I had not heard Azriel’s approaching footsteps, he leaned against the archway the led into the kitchen from the dining room silently as I hummed and began plating the chicken; I had been cutting the lemon into a smaller sections to drizzle it over the chicken, knife in hand I turned around to drizzle it on the plate when I heard the smallest of noises from the male. I jumped and spun towards the noise, the knife in my hand thunked into the wall an inch from where Azriel had just been leaning his head as I threw it.

His eyes widened as he jumped away from the wall. “Mother, save me, efficiently deadly even when off guard.”

I clasped at my chest as I panted loudly trying to catch my breath after being startled. “Fuck me! Azriel! Warn a lady!”

He mumbled “I'm trying.” Before actually apologizing for scaring me.

He slid his way onto a barstool and I pushed the plate towards him, he looked between the plate and me before he cut a small piece of the chicken off. He stared at the small piece of chicken and then looked back up to me, with a small nod from me he swallowed the small piece and I could see all the emotions cross his face as he began to scarf down the rest of the small piece. His wings flared ever so slightly as he bit into the last piece on his plate and I rounded the small island, pressing myself between his massive wings, a gesture to sooth him as I felt the cooling air he normally gave off grow in temperature and sweat began to form on his brow line. Then he had finally swallowed the last piece and chugged the small glass of water I had set out to accompany his meal, I had ran my hands over his shoulders and wrapped them loosely around his neck; His hand reached up and grabbed mine before he was pulling me off him and spinning around, capturing me in a tight hug as he pressed his lips to mine. With a growl he was pulling me down the maze of halls and then we had finally reached the set of familiar large grand doors with swirls and lines that reminded me of his shadows carved into them, the small royal blue rug he used as a welcome mat slid under our feet as he pulled me into another kiss while pressing me against the door.

He had managed to pull away enough to fumble with the door knob and finally open the door, his room greeted me with the gorgeous ash colored wooden decor accented in that same blue that matched his siphons. I took a few steps inside, he followed right behind, his shadows closing the door behind us with a click; he wrapped himself around me and his lips found purchase on my neck. I could feel everything coursing through him down the bond, my own emotions, hormones, and instincts beginning to scream louder and louder over any clear thoughts I was having. His scarred hands ,that I had found as a beautiful testament to all he had been through, ran under the soft material of the blue shirt and left goosebumps in its path.

He slipped the shirt off over my head and spun me to face him as he dropped to his knees, pressing several open mouthed kisses to the spattering of scars that adorned my skin. The last coherent thought I had before I lost myself to the haze of the bond was that one day I would kiss over every scar that littered his own skin like he had done with mine, I’d do it as an act of devotion when he thought he wasn’t deserving of anything good in his life.

He pushed me towards his bed, bedecked in blue silk sheets, till I finally fell back on it and he was right there at the foot of it slipping my boots off. He threw them somewhere across the room and then turned back to me with lust blown eyes, I ran my hand across his jaw line and leaned down to press a kiss against his lips; he replied with a soft moan and as he pulled away he began slipping the pants down my legs, ripping the only covering left on my body like the feral beast he currently was. His fingertips dug into the skin of my thighs as he held them apart, licking his lips with a smirk as he lapped from me like a stray hound. I can’t remember how long we were there but he repeatedly brought me crashing down over the edge on his tongue and fingers, the haze cleared ever so slightly as he threw me further up his bed and settled himself between my hips; my legs wrapped around his hips as he nipped at my neck and throat, a moan fell from my lips as he came to rest the head of his cock against my opening.

My mouth fell open as he sheathed himself inside me, capturing my lips in his as the moan I screamed echoed off the walls of his room. My legs tightened around his hips holding him close to me as I adjusted to his size, I wasn’t a lady by any means, I had fooled around with the males in the barracks occasionally when tensions were running high after some stressful patrol or hunt but they were all nothing in comparison to the sheer mix of Azriel’s girth and length. While with my newfound growth spurt the stretch didn’t particularly hurt it was still an adjustment, my mind wandered to those nights my mind had drifted to imagining him between my legs instead of my own hand. Azriel’s name was like a prayer falling from my lips as he slammed himself into me, our moans and pants mixing together as we called out each other's names. We were there, slotted together for what felt like ages until his hips stuttered and his wings flared, finally coming undone inside of me after he had brought me repeatedly to the edge and past it.

As he finally released inside of me, I felt the bond in our chest sing as it solidified and could then feel every ounce of pleasure he had received, if the growl that escaped his throat was any indication of him being able to feel my own, the pride he sent my way was. He finally pulled himself away from me and moved to stand, placing a kiss to my lips that I returned eagerly as he stepped into the attached bathroom. Exhaustion slowly started to come over me as I awaited the male, he returned to me and I couldn't help myself but to pull him back on top of me with another heated kiss.

He let out a mix of a growl and a laugh. “Look if we keep going down this track the bath I just drew for us will be cold by the time we are actually able to return to it.”

I sighed and relented, letting him carry me to the bathroom where with his help we both sunk into the warm clear water. He held me against his chest and began to run his fingers through my hair as he hummed a soft melody, I started to drift off with my head on his shoulder and he happily let me. He woke me when the water started to get cold, stepping out before me he wrapped a towel around his waist then helping me out and wrapping my own towel around me. My legs were still semi-shaky so he happily elected to carry me back to the bed, dropping both towels at the foot of the bed; he pulled back the sheets letting me crawl under them he followed behind me, pulling me to his chest we managed to get a few hours of sleep before he was slotting himself back between my legs and my hands found purchase at the spot where the membrane of his wings met his skin. The moan that left his mouth as he shuddered above me would never leave my thoughts, neither would the sensitivity of his wings.

It took us about two weeks before we were able to leave the confines of his room, finally going back to training was a relief especially after we had moved my belongings into his room earlier that morning. However Azriel was still overly territorial of me so Cassian found himself pouting as he sparred with Rhys. We had kept that routine until Azriel’s territorial behavior had lessened as long as I was within eyesight, Rhys was finally able to teach me how to control my mental shield and prevent daemati attacks. I had become a natural quickly between training with Rhys and sparring with Azriel as he furthered my teachings on fighting, we were in the middle of sparring when Rhys announced the boys would need to fetch Feyre and the friend that was accompanying her out of Spring Court. I had kissed Azriel goodbye and wished him well as he and Cassian took to the sky, I had decided to take the opportunity to fully explore the house; I had either been too entertained in Azriel, injured, or busy to fully explore it earlier.

I pushed a semi-large door open to be greeted with isles of bookshelves, a hearth that wasn’t lit, a long table with many chairs, and a few small loveseats in front of the hearth with a small coffee table and rug. Inside sat Nesta, who scowled at me, a handful of books whose genre matched what she and Elain enjoyed reading; I had no doubt she was reading them to Elain, Rhys had kept me updated on my sister's conditions.

“Sister…” A half-hearted acknowledgement as she turned back to the isles picking another book out.

“Nes! You look good! You could eat a bit more but-”I happily circled her taking her in before she cut me off.

“You look like you’ve adjusted to this life well.” It was a bitter acknowledgement that I did indeed look and act better than both her and Elain did right now.

“Well, Yes I have, Azriel has been a great help with everything-” She started towards the exit and I followed behind her.

“Well, you were always the wild one, I suppose it's fitting for the beast to feel at home amongst them.” I stopped in my tracks and she pushed her way out of the library.

“Nes..” I reached out for her but the door shut without her even looking back.

I tried to block my emotions from flooding Azriel while he was on the mission, simply sighing and turning back to the shelves around me; I plucked a random book from a shelf and made my way back to Azriel and I’s room, our room. The comforting shadows carved into his door were a happy sight as I oh so elegantly threw myself onto the black loveseat he had moved from my room into here, grabbing a fur blanket I made myself at home on the small couch with my book and some tea graciously provided to me by the house. Maybe once Feyre was back it would knock some sense into Nesta and Elain, I could hope at least.

I felt a calling from the bond an hour later, Azriel had made it back with Cassian, Feyre, and that red-headed male that had stepped towards Elain. I bounded up the stairs, racing through the halls and then finally slid into the living room. Feyre was wrapped in Rhys’s arms and I threw myself into Azriel’s welcoming him back with a kiss, Feyre whipped her head around to look at us; Rhys hadn’t told her we had accepted the bond yet, so when she found out she happily congratulated us. I pulled her into a crushing hug, which she tapped out of just as Rhys had called a meeting that had the entire inner circle making their way into the sitting room with us.

Mor happily smiled and waved at me, she had watched me spar with Az and train with Rhys and when the boys just needed to absolutely deck each other she would lead me up one balcony to where her and Amren set up a small little tanning spot. Amren, while Azriel had described her as this terrifying creature based on the energy she gave off, had only ever seemed as an equal to me. I had never felt that overwhelming power like the boys had described to me, she gave me a small smile and sat on the other side of me. While tucked into Azriel’s side with Amren’s foot touching my own in a comfortable silence, Nesta and Elain finally entered the room. It was a long night but eventually after a heated argument between my sisters everyone was dismissed, my sisters being allowed to keep to their own devices.

Azriel was sparring with Cassian and I had found myself holed up in Amren’s apartment with her doing puzzles when we had gotten an emergency call from Rhys. Amren and I both sped out of her apartment and we were off towards the mountain house, Azriel and Cassian picking us up and bringing us up the stairs to save us some time. We had been informed of the break in to the library, Amren and I were both on edge this understanding between us, when one was on edge then the other was too. Rhysand had asked her to comb through the rest of Velaris that night to see if any other uninvited guests were hidden amongst us, Amren invited me with her and I happily agreed. Azriel covered me with my furs and cloak and kissed my forehead as I set off to join Amren in this makeshift hunt.

It seemed like a back to back eventful week, I had crawled back into bed beside Azriel extremely late at night or extremely early in the morning depending on how you looked at it and it felt like I had just fallen asleep when Azriel awoke me in an emergency. Azriel had hurriedly told me Adriata was under attack and I slipped into the leathers Azriel had made for me adding my furs and cloak back onto my shoulder, next thing I know I’m in the bloodied streets of Adriata beside Mor and Feyre, Azriel and Cassian somewhere in the skies with whatever other forces Rhys had scrounge together on such short notice. I had been pulled into a hallway by someone whose armor I recognized as the enemy held me in a chokehold and I couldn’t get a grip on them due to how they had my arms restrained, an idea graced me as their arm rubbed against my face in my struggle. I growled before opening my mouth and latching my sharpened teeth into their arm, they screamed and relaxed their grip; it was enough of a give I was able to tear my mouth away from their arm and turn on them before tearing their head from their shoulders, a trick Amren had taught me. I rejoined their side and they both gave me a look that questioned if I was okay without the words leaving their mouth.

Then we were back home, and I was more than thankful to rinse the blood from my face. Nesta seemed to be coming around slowly as she worked with Amren, Elian was still pale and distant but was slowly coming around with Nuala and Cerridwen. Everything had seemed like it was going okay when Rhys and my sister finally announced the meeting with the rest of the high lords. I stayed beside Azriel the entire time we were there, it had seemed like negotiations were going fairly okay, yes there was people acting suspicious of others but with a war on the horizon who wouldn’t be suspicious of others, until Eris had opened his mouth about what had happened to Mor; she had confided in me what had happened one day when I had seen the scars while we were tanning, Eris’s words had enraged me and Azriel as well. If I hadn’t been enraged I was sure Azriel could have kept his composure if it wasn’t for my added emotions screaming down the bond.

Azriel reached across the table and had decked Eris, I stood from my own chair when Eris had landed a hit against Azriel’s cheek; a growl had ust echoed from my chest when the fight was called off. That had been the start of the downwards spiral of the first day of the meeting, Tamlin showing up and portraying my sister the way he did was enough for Azriel to defend her and when Azriel was dismissed out of hand it took everything I had in me to not rip Tamlin’s throat out; thankfully I was still able to threaten to do it. With tensions so high the first day of the meeting was called, the rest of the circle retired to our quarters with Helion in tow.

The second day started out alright, we all thought all tensions or issues had been aired, by the mother were we wrong. Interrupting us in the middle of a thought Nesta had screamed while the hairs on the back of my neck raised and we heard a loud crackle and roar, the color had drained from everyone’s faces as we realized what that had meant, the wall had fallen.

It had been months of war, fight after fight had everyone exhausted, and we all knew the last leg of the fight was nearing. Elain had been kidnapped by the cauldron, Nesta felt like she was guilty for opening the bridge that had let that happen; Azriel had calmed me while I destroyed the inside of the tent we all stood in at the news she had been taken, had let me get the anger that I failed to protect both of my younger sisters now. Then Feyre was concocting a plan and going into the enemy camp as Ianthe, Feyre was rescuing Elain while also rescuing an additional person with the help of Tamlin and Jurian. It was only after this we had found out Juriuan was a spy and was actually on our side, but they wouldn’t make it out with the naga-hounds on their tails and Azriel had to help rescue them. I had been panicked enough at the thought of my sisters in danger but from across the hills I watched as a naga-hound had sunk its fangs into Azriel’s wings, the scream that left me was gut wrenching as I felt the pure pain my mate was in.

Finally everyone was back in the camp, Azriel in the med-tent being cared for by Madja the thought of losing his ability to fly due to permanent damage to his wings looming over both of our heads. I knew how much flying meant to him, but the final day of the fight was upon us and I wasn’t going to let my sisters be on that field without me. I had come face to face with the weaver while I was out on the field, she had stopped and acknowledged me with a small smirk before she continued on her bloody rampage. Bryaxis and the Carver were there as well, I had crossed paths with them once or twice, and we had covered each other's back, why they had done it? I haven't a clue, but I assumed they recognized the rage beginning to boil under my skin, that had finally started to rear its head as I ripped those that opposed me apart. Whatever it was that lurked under my skin snapped as I heard Nesta scream, my vision blurred and I felt that terrible snap of my bones as I blindly ran towards my sisters.

It was as my vision cleared that I truly recognized what my gift from the cauldron was, what I had agreed to in the depths of the cauldron when faced with the beast that lurked there. I loomed over the fae scattered about the grounds around me, some shrieked in horror others stood stunned, I felt something thrashing against my mouth and gritted my teeth, biting down i felt the familiar crunch of bones yet it was all so different as a scream erupted and the taste of blood filled my mouth. I had become the same beast I faced inside the cauldron, I felt the energy that thrummed through me as I raced towards where I felt my sisters. As I reached the top of the hill I saw our father there, when had he joined the battle? How long had I been enraged?

Cassian was there too, Nesta covering his body wit her own, and the King had a sickening smirk on his face. My father stood between Nesta and the King, a pit formed in my stomach as read filled me, one paw in front of the other I tried to force my body forward. Before I can blink the King has my father’s head in his grasp, a sickening snap has me charging forward as our father slumps to the floor. A blur of movement, as my vision begins to blur again, then I’m towering over the King. I hear Elain scream as they snap closed around the King and his headless body slumps to the ground beside our fathers, his blood tasted bitter and I feel the crunch of his skull collapsing in on itself within my mouth. I let it fall from my mouth and watch as it awkwardly rolls a few inches from where it had hit the ground. Elain has a bag of medical supplies and moves to stand by Nesta and Elain, our eyes catch on eachother and there's an understanding there, they recognize me.

“Sister…’Elain barely mumbles it.

I stand in shock before I feel the bones in my body cracking again, exhaustion crashes into me and I’m back in my fae body. I can’t even take a step before I’m collapsing and hearing yet another heartbroken scream from across the field, my vision blurs like that time back in the throne room after the cauldron.

I hear murmuring when I finally come back too, based on the smell and colors I’m able to figure out I’m in the med tent. Azriel is in the bed to my left, still healing from his wounds the hounds caused. He looks like he's been crying and I try to push myself up to comfort him, all the voices silence all at once; the rest of the circle stands around me and Azriel, Madja helps me sit up and it's only then I realize it's not only me and Azriel there, Cassian is in a cot across from Azriel and Amren in one across from me and Rhys is being looked over while he sits on a stool in the center of the four of us.

It's Azriel’s voice that finds its way to me first. “Hey Wildling, good to see you awake, take it easy. You overdid it out there, but you still did it, you took the king down. According to Cass, you ripped his head straight off his body. Good job Love.”

It's a bitter smile in his voice. “I remember that, what happened after? It's all a blur.”

Cassian's astonished laugh is my answer “You ripped his head off, ended the whole thing, then you changed back from whatever that huge creature version of you was and passed out.”

“It's what I saw when I went under in the cauldron. That beast is my gift, I guess.” I dryly answered back, still sore from the pain in my bones.

It was then after we had cleared up what had happened with me, with the king did Feyre, Rhys, and Amren tell us what all else happened. Rhys had died, Feyre had felt the bond break and begged the lords to give him his life back. Amren had sacrificed herself for us too, she technically had died, sacrificed the ancient part of herself and was now just a regular high fae. Our father was dead, and the war was over. Life could somewhat return to normal, and I was grateful.

Finally Solstice was rolling around and everyone could breath somewhat normally, Azriel and Cassian had both healed nicely. Azriel and I had grown even closer and stronger, we had thrown around the idea that sometime after the solstice we would do an actual ceremony that mated fae did when they decided to marry. I had been ecstatic, we had cried the night he suggested it and had made love for hours, staying in bed the next day till well after the sun was over the mountain.

I had managed to get some time to do solstice shopping today since Azriel was out on a mission from Rhys, he said he would be back before dinner tonight. It had felt like I had searched every shop, yet I still couldn't find something for Azriel. Everyone else I had gotten something, even Nesta though I knew it was unlikely she'd be there with her current habits; she had asked to be left alone so I left her alone.

For Mor I had found a pretty red night dress that was incredibly thin and strappy with a slit that easily would’ve reached her navel, for Amren a pair of sapphire earrings with a matching bracelet set, for Cassian a set of training wraps for his hands as he had taken to complaining about the new scars there bugging him, for Rhys a set of small purple cufflinks, Elain a book I had found talking about gardens and plant life throughout the courts, Feyre I had got a set of canvases made from incredibly nice materials and the stuff to make your own p[aint like she had when we were younger, Nesta a collectors set of books she had often read as a child i had to admit I asked Rhysand to get them from the human lands for me, but Azriel? I was clueless. When asked he said he wanted nothing, but by the mother I was going to get him something. It was only after I turned into another shop that I spied the smallest thing in a glass case out of the corner of my eyes.

Elain had asked if a tonic for his headaches from Madja would be a good gift, as the male did often battle headaches from his terrible sleep regime. There was one thing he complained about, especially more often now that the colder months were approaching; the scars on his hands would often become sore, sometimes they would become so painful he couldn’t spar or even write. In a small glass case I spied a silk pair of gloves, I knew there was an enchanter in Velaris and was quick to purchase the soft gloves. I wanted to get him soft gloves so they wouldn’t catch on the scars, a bell ringed above me as I pushed the door to the enchanter open. An older male greeted me, and I passed him the gloves explaining what kind of enchantment I wanted to put on them; he nodded knowingly and brought them into the back to get to work, he returned them to me half an hour later folded and wrapped in blue tissue paper. I thanked him cheerily and paid him generously for his work.

Back at home I sat criss-cross on the floor, wrapping the gifts in shimmery black paper and wrapping them with blue bows. Eventually calling Rhys to hide them away with the rest of the presents like Azriel had told me to do. I decided to take a nap on the couch and Azriel had returned right on cue, well before dinner was to start. We made our way to the townhouse for dinner that was beginning to be decorated for solstice, after everyone had ate and said their goodnights Azriel swept me into the air; a tradition we had started after family dinners was to go on a flight across Velaris, I’d be clutched tight against Azriel’s chest as we soared above the city and finally back to the house on top of the mountain. I had happily curled up on his side that night as the solstice crept closer.

When finally the day of solstice had come around, Azriel had brought me down to the town house, kissed me goodbye, and informed me he would be back before dinner. The other two illyrian males disappeared with him, and I helped my sisters with preparations. Mor and Feyre disappeared together for a few hours, it was well after noon when everyone had finally returned from their little snowball fight; Rhys and Cassian were pouting as they kicked the snow off their boots upon entering the town house. My mate proudly walked in behind them, head held high, very obviously the winner. I pressed a kiss to his lips and congratulated him and in response he deepened it, slipping his tongue into his my mouth for a second before Rhys and Cassian were faking gagging noises.

Eventually the time for presents rolled around and everyone had started exchanging gifts, then Nesta had showed up in a pretty rough condition. I hugged her and pulled her to sit beside me, pressing the boxes from Elain and I into her hands; tears had welled in her eyes when she saw what I had gotten her but she caught herself before they fell and simply thanked me with a hug. Everyone else exchanged presents, save for a few of us mates, Rhys and Feyre hadnt publicly exchanged gifts and neither had Az and I. We celebrated Feyre’s birthday and then Az and I went out to Elain’s gardens, which had been decorated with strings of faelights. I asked Az if I could give him my gift first, to which he easily agreed and I presented him with the gloves. He slipped them on over his hands and tears found themselves in his eyes as he thanked me and peppered me with kisses, eventually he composed himself and asked me to close my eyes to which I agreed.

I heard a crunch as he shifted around in his spot, “Alright, open them.”

Tears filled my eyes at the sight in front of me, Azriel was kneeled in front of me, a ring box presented out to me.

“I know we already discussed this and both agreed to it, but I hadn’t got you a ring to symbolize it yet.Happy Solstice my wildling.” He stood and slipped the ring onto my finger.

We had returned inside to find everyone else passed out or in their room,we slipped into ours just like everyone else.

A few months later Feyre was announcing her pregnancy, we had all celebrated together and that night had flipped a switch in Azriel, neither of us had really known the male had a thing for breeding until the thought of us being in Feyre and Rhys’ position had crossed his thoughts, that night was filled with breathy moans and the sound of skin pounding against skin. Yet the simple act was enough to satiate Azriel’s hunger, to satiate us both really.

Feyre had a difficult pregnancy but pulled through, Nesta sacrificed her powers to save Feyre’s life and before we knew it. Feyre was pregnant with her second and Azriel became hungrier and more feral when he fucked me, claiming his instincts were screaming at him to repeatedly fill me.

It had all been okay until Nesta and Casssian had their first born, a whole new side to Azriel unlocked. I had never seen Azriel as jealous as he was the day we all sat around the living room, the infant in Nesta’s arms and Cassian leaning over her shoulder to wiggle his finger at the small girl whose wings flapped happily. Nyx was six at the time and had eagerly climbed into my head to hug me, ever the affectionate child unlike his sister who wanted nothing to do with anyone since her birth. Azriel’s eyes caught on me holding and rocking the six year old and I felt the pride roll down the bond from him, I sent him a joyous wave back.

It was only when Cassian and Nesta passed me their daughter did I really feel how jealous Azriel had become of the little families his brothers had crafted. As the small girl placed her tiny hand around my own an dI began to tear up as she smiled happily at me with the biggest grin on her face, I looked over to Az and saw the emotion in his eyes, a mix of lust, jealousy, and pride. I offered the small babe to him and he took her in his massive hands, adorned with the silk gloves I had bought him all those years ago. She wrapped her hand around one of his fingers and he looked up at me with massive puppy dog eyes.

Azriel’s birthday approached quickly, and I knew above all else there was thing he wanted for his birthday. I had felt it enough through the bond, every time he would see his brothers with their small families a small wave of jealousy and want would be sent through to me. Cassian’s daughter had just started walking, took her first steps today because she had wanted her father and he was just out of her reach on the couch, Azriel had been witness as she threw herself in Cassian’s arms; he had come down to our room that night upset, had cried in my arms how he had wanted what they have. It wasn’t that we were doing anything to prevent a pregnancy but when both of my sisters had conceived they had taken potions to boost their fertility. Which led me to Azriel’s birthday gift and the current appointment I had with Madja.

With the potion secured the day of his birthday, thanks to Rhys’s wonderful distraction, I was able to wrap it in a small box and hide it within our room. After hiding it I had made it back to the kitchens just as Rhys and Azriel had returned, Azriel pressed a kiss to my lips and Nyx had run in and threw himself onto Az in a bear hug. It was an endearing sight that had me hoping that with the addition of the potion Madja had made me soon enough our own son would be doing that to his father.

Dinner had gone off without a hitch, Nyx and his 4 year old sister Aurora lit up the table with their argument over whether or not Helion’s pegasi hatched from eggs like birds or were live births like horses. Nyx was getting fed up with Aurora's egg theory since he had asked ‘Grandpa Helion’ himself last time they had gone there, Arora was 2 and he had been 6 so of course he knew what he was talking about. Rhysand was rubbing his temples in agony, apparently the children had been having this argument all day, and wouldn’t let any adult butt in and settle it.

Eventually all the kids tired themselves out and everyone started toting them to their rooms, Rhys had hugged AZriel wishing him a goodnight, Feyre taking the chance to whisper to me a goodluck with a wink her mate not far behind her with a smirk and a nod in my direction as they headed off for their wing of the manor. Cassian and Neesta had left almost right after cake due to their daughter completely crashing and passing out at the table in her high chair.

Azriel smiled and let out a soft sigh. “Thank you for planning this love, it was a nice night.” he placed a kiss to my temple with a small content hum.

“It only gets better from here Az.” I smirked and he wiggled his brows in response.

“Oh yeah?” a smirk flitted onto his features.

“Yep. Still have to give you your present.” I nodded smugly and started pulling him towards our chambers.

He followed , curiosity evident as he tried to repeatedly guess what I had gotten him, guess after guess fell from his lips. Before Madja would give me the potion she had to check and make sure that if I managed to conceive it wouldn’t be a risk to my health since I didn’t have the magical benefit from Nesta’s powers that my sisters did, but thank the cauldron literally, because when it gave me my gift the growth spurt affected all of my bones including my hips so I was safe to carry his child. We made it into our room, my furs hung up on a coat rack beside the wing-suited coat I had got him last solstice and beside them a end table we used as a catch-all. I had hidden it here in the drawer because we always just threw stuff on top of it and went on collapsing into bed at night after rough missions.

He furrowed his brow as I pulled the box out and handed it to him, I gestured for him to open the small box and he stilled when he saw the small vial.

His eyes darted between me and the vial, tears began to well in his eyes. “Is this…”

He had to bite back a sob so I finished the thought for him. “The fertility boost both my sisters used when they conceived? Yeah it is, I finally got approved by Madja for it.”

He dropped to his knees holding the vial and sobbing. “Thank you, my wildling, thank you.”

I took a few steps towards him prompting him to stand up and pulled him into a deep hug, until he composed himself and stopped crying.

He handed me and the vial with a pleading look on his face. “Can we use it tonight?”

I took it from him and popped the cork out of the small bottle, shooting the terrible tasting liquid into my mouth. I wiped my mouth as I smirked back at him. “That's the plan shadowsinger.”

His shadows curled happily around my feet as I pulled him into a deep kiss, slowly coaxing him farther and farther into our room as I managed to strip his clothes from him. Then when we had finally gotten close enough to the bed, I pulled him down on top of me while I nipped at his jawline. I could feel the effects of the potion slowly start taking effect, I had been told it would increase the amount of lubricant my body produced as well as a dull throbbing ache within my ovaries and uterus.

Azriel realized fairly quickly he was the only naked one and ripped my clothes from my body, his head dropped to my core and he buried his tongue inside of, bringing me to orgasm a handful of times. Eventually satisfied with the taste of me on his tongue, he buried himself to the hilt inside of me and I could feel the tip of him kiss my cervix. I screamed his name until my throat was hoarse that night, only soothed when he had spilled a handful of times into me and finally pulled out only to replace my dripping cunt with my mouth instead.

We slept in the entirety of the next day, either wrapped up in each other as the potion boosted fertility for 48 hours, or sleeping and recovering some energy; though there had been many times we had fallen asleep together with him still buried deep inside of me so as not to waste anything. I had made a promise with Madja that I'd start checking in with her weekly after the potion was consumed and the effects had come and gone, so if I was to get pregnant from this night, we would catch it as early as possible to start me on the correct vitamins and set up a care plan immediately.

As I laid there in Azriel’s arms I could only hope that thanks to the potions help his seed would take root and I would be able to grant him this one small thing he so desperately deserved. His snores lulled me into my own sleep and in my heart were that bond sung and glowed brightly I had a feeling the intended result would in fact take root.

#acotar x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel shadowsinger

898 notes · View notes

lunatic-pudge · 6 months

Text

Scout, Pyro, Demo, Medic, Sniper, and Spy Relationship Headcanons

Can you tell which ones are my absolute favorite:')

Scout

• Unsurprisingly, it takes him a long time to get over his infatuation of Ms. Pauling (I'm 110% convinced she's a lesbian), so you must be basically a deity to be catching his attention (though he'd the type to flirt with EVERYONE)

• Golden retriever energy, also youngest child energy. Constantly wants to do everything for you but also needs constant attention. He's also used to be getting picked on by the other mercs and his older brothers so he'll be going to you for validation. But he also doesn't want to appear weak so it'll take some time to break through his (fragile) shell.

• Love language: physical touch and acts of services. Will be constantly trying to act like a macho man for you but will also beg to hold your hand. Cuddles are constant. He may not be good at being a handyman, but my gods he's gonna try his darndest. Plz tell him that he did a good job, he's trying his best.

• He's the best person to go to if you wanna go on randon and unexpected adventures. One minute you're both in Teufort, the next your across country at the beach up east coast. Poor thing gets yelled at a lot for just uping and leaving without notice.

• Local snack dealer. Ma is always making sure that he's got sweets on hand. His room has care packages from her with some of the most wholesome letters from her and the box if FILLED to the brim with sweets, treats, and soda

Pyro

• My little baby boo, a wholesome partner who would kill for you. Can get jealous very easily so you might have to hold them back from committing manslaughter.

• Love language: quality time and gift giving. Time with Pyro is time well spent. Constantly just wants to be in the same room with you. They don't do well when you're not around. Also loves to give gifts. Most of their gifts consit of stuffed animals and handmade drawings. Your room will be filled with gifts from this goofball.

• In my opinion, they're a lot more there than people realize. Some days are better than others though. They were literally CEO of an engeneering company! And I believe they made all their weapons to but I could be wrong on that. Homie is definitely reliable when they're having a good day, but on the bad days, just sit and spend time with them. You don't gotta say anything, just knowing your right there beside them is enough conformation to know you'll always be there no matter what.

• You two are little troublemakers. You'll constantly be up to no good with them. It seems like harmless fun, but you've both almost burnt down the base five times just this month!

Demoman

• Probably one of the best lovers you could have out of all the mercs (aside from Engie, they're competing for the number one spot). I'm deducting points cause of the nonstop alcohol consumpution. :(

• But he is a happy goofy dunk so thank gods for that. Always happy to be here. Very attentive, caring, cuddly, overall a good person to date or even just be friends with.

• Cause the constant alcohol ruined a good portion of his memory (and Medic as well), he writes down every little detail of you that he can in a little journal he secretly keeps on his person. Important dates, likes, dislikes, ect. The man has it on file in case of emergencies.

• Love language: gift giving and act of services. He works three jobs and makes over 5 mil a year, he's LOADED. He's gonna buy you the world if you ask. Definitely good at money managing so he never worried at how much gifts cost. He's also gonna try his darndest to help you out with any problems, though it can be a bit hard when you're constantly drunk. Hims trying his best, okay?

• Wants his mom to approve of you but knows how critical she is of him. Poor baby has some self-esteem issuses cause of her so please give him lots of love and support. It's hard when your mom never has anything nice to say about you and compares you to everyone else. It's a neverending struggle. :(

Medic

• You're definitley into weird and questionable people if you like this man, and that means we're best friends now. :D

• He will ask you to help him out with surgeries and organizing his lab. You're hims little nurse. He'd probably (absolutley) be getting you a nurse outfit with his symbol on it.

• He's very much the possessive type. What's his is HIS, no if, ands, buts, or questions about it. Would put a tracker in you so he knows where you are at all times, but someone would have to talk him out of doing it... for now...

• Constantly talks about you to his birds, if any on them ever have babies, he's naming one after you. Would get you a stuffed dove plushie to cuddle with at night when he can't be there with you

• Love language: physical touch and quality time, you're ALWAYS welcomed in his lab, in fact, he expects you to be there with him. Is the type to ask you to grab something and will graze his hands against yours when grabbing it from you. (then give a shit eating smirk afterwards) He'd also be the type to stand VERY close to you, and stand behind you in an intimidating way to keep others from talking to you.

Sniper

• This man is my all time baby boy so I have LOTS to say about him and how much I love him :')

• Is someone who takes a while to get close to, especially in a romantic way. He's just a shy little boy who's used to being alone. But isn't introverted, just has introverted tendencies (you literally see him hanging out with some of the other mercs in Expiration Date)

• Love language: words of affirmations and physical touch, he sucks at verbally saying how he feels about you but will leave cute little love notes around for you to find. He's also VERY touched-starved so he will just flat out lay on top of you if you let him. Loves hearing you say how much you love him, plz just hold his hands and say how much he means to you, he might just cry from it.

• Is also someone who goes on random adventures, but they're usually just out and away from everyone. But I could see him taking you to a zoo or aquarium to look at the animals. But you're not allowed to go to a Humane Society cause you'll be walking out with all the animals they have and raising them like they're your babies,

Spy

• Another gremlin who takes a long time to warm up to you. He's a grumpy old man who's never really been with someone in such a serious light (aside from Scout's Ma)

• Love language: gift giving and words of affirmation, another merc who would buy you the world if you asked. Will only buy you the best of the best and will throw hands with someone if it's not up to his standards. He could go on about his love for you. His words sound like poetry. You'd wake up with a bouquet of roses and one of the most beautiful love letters anyone has ever read.

• Is 50/50 on PDA, he'll wrap an arm around your waist, call you beautiful, and give you a peck on the cheek in front of others but that's about it. Any extreme PDA is to be in private or you're getting a scolding.

• Would definitely help you learn French. He's way more patient with you than anyone else. You've seen him yell and insult every merc a couple times (Scout getting the brunt of it), but he refuses to ever say anything negative about you

• Definitely the bragging type. He'll put you on a pedestal and go on about how gorgeous you are. How you were crafted by gods, and so on. He thinks he's better than everyone else so if you're with him, than you're right up there with him.

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #tf2 x reader #tf2 scout #tf2 scout x reader #tf2 pyro #tf2 pyro x reader #tf2 demoman #tf2 demoman x reader #tf2 medic #tf2 medic x reader #tf2 sniper #tf2 sniper x reader #tf2 spy #tf2 spy x reader

502 notes · View notes

whorekneecentral · 11 months

Note

sd! toto? this man is the biggest sugar daddy material hands down, like a billionaire. maybe the reader is student at Harvard (i know this type of prompt has been used many times but I can’t think of anything else 😭) she’s studying to be a professor and can’t seem to be paying her student loans. And her friend invited her over to the paddock for the weekend to get her mind off of her studies and relax, where she then meets Toto and there’s a attraction which then leads to him being her secret sugar daddy?

-jenson anon ❤️

jenson anon you are so sexy for this idea ily bae <3333

you thought you knew him from somewhere; your friend ran in all the high end, luxury circles because of who her parents were and when she introduced you to the team principal of mercedes; you knew you had seen him before.

he remembered you before you remembered him - the two of you had met when he did a lecture at harvard. you were telling him that you were getting your PhD so become a professor and he said if you ever changed your mind, you could come work for them.

you never bothered with his comment, you figured you'd never see him again; you had been too busy to even think about that. between school and working to be able to pay for school, you barely had time to breathe.

the only reason you were there is cause your friend's parents paid for everything.

the afternoon goes by, everyone gets busy and your friend eventually disappears when she sees someone she knows.

you were sat in merc hospitality, having a coffee when someone asked if they could sit with you. you look over and see toto.

you tell him go ahead and you two make small talk. he asks how the PhD is going, you tell him it's slowly killing you.

"what do you mean?" the man pushes his glasses up a bit, looking at you.

you shrug, "I might die before I pay back the loans I have." you joked, not really tho.

toto shook his head, "so stupid that you need loans to go to school, to work just to pay back the loans."

"tell me about it." you sighed, spinning the cup around on the table. it goes quiet for a bit before he speaks. "let me pay for it."

you look at him like he's insane, "no, absolutely not. you're very kind for offering but I cannot let you do that."

"why not? it's a good use of my money."

"I wouldn't be able to pay you back, it would kill me to just take the money from you."

toto nods, telling you he understood and the conversation drops.

"we can work something out," he starts and you cut him off, "I can't afford that-"

"no, not like that. uh, so I was thinking more along the lines of you just giving me some company."

you get what he meant and you can't help but laugh. "I'm not looking to be a sugar baby."

"no of course not," he shook his head, "just two friends who benefit from each other?"

"well when you put it like that." you nod, smiling.

toto asked you to join him for the races over your summer break, in exchange he paid for your next two semesters.

you got to travel the world and he got the company he wanted, while your school was paid for.

it was nice, you got to explore on the days you didn't join him on track. he left a card with you which you used for emergencies but he left it with you incase you wanted to shop or stop to eat somewhere. you two had dinner together almost every night, unless he was working late.

he spoiled you with lavish clothing and jewellery to match; you told him it was too much and he said you needed to fit in with the crowd so he's just making sure you don't stick out.

you both knew he just liked to spoil you, that was the whole thing.

the break in the race schedule came up, the drivers off to rest for the summer. toto asked if you'd like to join him in England, spend a few weeks with him relaxing.

you said okay; the 2 of you spent 2 of the 4 weeks in England, resting and getting to know each other properly- and by that I mean in bed.

one too many glasses of wine turned into flirting, into touches and stolen glances and eventually you two ended up going at it right on the deck.

the next 2 weeks were on an island, a little villa all to yourselves, rolling around in bed all morning, waking up to the sun and your lover kissing on you.

you returned to the paddock, toto a little more touchy than before but no one seemed to say anything even tho they noticed the change in the two of you.

#sugar daddy!toto #toto wolff #toto wolff smut #toto wolff x reader #jenson anon :)

1K notes · View notes

flung-from-the-mulch · 3 months

Note

omg hi can i have the tf2 mercs with an s/o who just apologizes for things constantly even if they had nothing to do with it

I'm only doing a handful of the mercs this time around because writing for all 9 of them makes for a hell of a timesink & I'm short on time lately hope you understand anon :)

Spy

-the most likely to get pissy about you apologizing all the time. "Stop your incessant apologies, ma chère," he'd say, his brow furrowed and a frown on his face, accentuating how old he looks. "You waste my time with it.

-he loves you, he really does, he just has no patience for your apologizing </3

-will make you get an "apology jar", where for every unnecessary apology, you put a quarter in it. He then spends the money saved on expensive cheese and wine

Heavy

-apologizes for making you think you need to apologize so much, since at first he thinks it's his fault(he thinks you think he wants to hurt you).

-QUICKLY finds out that is not the case, and immediately signs you up for therapy.

-the most normal about it(will firmly tell you that it's fine and not to apologize)

Sniper

-he will not even say a word. just grunts, shrugs, or doesn't even do anything. he thinks it's just your thing. he doesn't really care either way as long as you aren't dying or in danger of being dead/hurt.

Demoman

-will apologize right back, the same amount of times you apologize, until you stop doing it.

#tf2 x reader #spy tf2 x reader #spy x reader #heavy tf2 x reader #heavy x reader #tf2 demoman x reader #demoman x reader #sniper tf2 x reader #sniper x reader

94 notes · View notes

thisisarcanereverie · 10 months

Text

Cutting Ties (Dark! Moon Knight x Reader) Part 2

A/N: This is Part 2 of a 3 Part fic. (Here is Part 1!) This is also a dark fic so please DNI Minors and others. (I got a little carried away with this idea Anon so thank you for the suggestion)

Now if you can interact or want to, please do! Like, reblog, reply!

DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS: kidnapping, angst (like a ridiculous amount of it), light cursing, I've never been to London or England in general so I'm going based off of what I've seen, English is my first language I just suck at it. I do not own the picture above but i DO own the header below, it's something that I made. I might make a few others idk. Enjoy!

Summary: You're a former Widow on the run, only in London for a year you meet Steven Grant, a goofy gift shoppist. But is there more that meets the eye?

For as long as you could remember you were not your own. Your name, your face, your mind, your body, even your own autonomy was not your own. It had always belonged to Dreykov and to his Red Room. Then, suddenly, the very color that controlled you, freed you. The red powder burned your eyes for a moment before suddenly it felt like you could breathe again.

It was strange how one’s life can completely turn on its head in a matter of moments.

One moment you were another Widow, easily expendable and replaced and the next you were…new. At least that’s what it felt like, you no longer existed at the whim of another. You weren’t a chess piece on the board, you were now a player.

You remembered the day the Red Room fell as the best day of your life.

There were so many things you could do, there were so many possibilities.

You just weren’t prepared for the reality of it.

That despite the mind control and the lack of autonomy, you still hurt people, at the end of the day it was your finger that pulled the trigger. You would wake in the middle of the night still haunted by those faces with a red mark between their eyes. It felt like you couldn’t escape from the Red Room you concocted in your mind, that no matter how hard you tried you will always be a Widow. So instead of fighting it, you gave in.

You had offers, from SHIELD to Tony Stark himself. Which surprised you, but in the end you decided you didn’t want the spotlight on you and were a merc for a while. It was gritty, but it was work you knew well. You thought you could do it but the first time you were ordered to kill you couldn’t. They were innocent, they were just there at the wrong time. So you killed your boss instead, grabbed what you could, and left. You made enemies that day, one that would love to see your head gifted to them on a silver plate.

You called Natasha after that, you weren’t sure what else to do. You didn’t know anyone else, you were completely alone. She gave you this guy's number, said that he would help you disappear and with whatever else you may need. You could feel her wink on the other end of the phone as you wrote down his information.

Since then you’ve been running, changing addresses and identities every couple of years to stay ahead of people who may want you dead. Her friend would give you new identities and you would exchange with money that you earned at jobs you would work. For a while you were content with being alone, working everyday and coming back to your place to eat food you previously were never able to eat and watching tv. Then you met Steven Grant, Marc Spector, and Jake Lockley. Then suddenly you realized how gray your life had become, how long you had merely survived and what living actually meant—even if you were merely living a lie. All at once you were no longer alone, someone held you at night and kissed your blood-soaked hands.

For the first time in your life…you felt clean.

But that had all been a delusion.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

You woke up in pain, your head throbbed and your limbs felt weighted down, as though someone had thrown two weighted blankets on top of you. You willed your eyes to open and was greeted with an unfamiliar ceiling. You squinted your eyes as you looked toward the open window, watched as the powder blue curtains danced gently as the breeze blew in. You weren’t sure how long you’ve been asleep, last time you remember it was nighttime and….

Rain

Pinching

Jake.

You took a sharp breath in and shot up from the bed as your hand went to the side of your neck, Jake had drugged you–and from the look of things–abducted you as well. Why would he do this? Did he act alone or did Steven and Marc help him? All these questions swarmed your mind but one question stood out.

Have you been blind?

You shakily made your way to the open window, sure enough it was morning, and sure enough you weren’t in London. As far as you could tell you could be miles away from the nearest village let alone London. How long had they been planning this? To already have a second place squared away, ready, were you the first to be here or the latest addition.

“You’re up.”

You swerved your head as you looked beside you, your skin crawled and blood turned into ice as you looked at him. Upright posture, hair a little less unkempt, and a twinge of a chicago accent dripped in his voice.

Marc.

You opened your mouth to speak only for a small, pathetic squeak to sound instead of words. Your hand reached for your throat and realized for the first time how absolutely parched you were. Like you hadn’t had any water in days.

“Here,” he handed you a glass of water which you greedily accepted, you didn’t bother breathing as you chugged the glass he gave. After the soreness in your throat subsided a little and hummed to warm up vocal cords that had not been used in a while. You put the glass on the window sill and looked at him and at the tray he was previously holding. Turkey Bacon and Eggs, it was Marc's favorite breakfast, one he had made you dozens of times whenever he was sorry for something.

You were silent as you looked at him further, he wore sweatpants and a t- shirt, both clearly slept in. The tan of his skin glowed in the morning light and it looked like he ran his fingers through his dark curls once or twice. There was something unsettling about him though, one that made the hair on the back of your neck stand, something that wasn’t there before.

Those eyes.

You flinch a little as he raises a hand, only for him to retract it.

“Sorry,” he apologized, his voice uncharacteristically small. You debated on what to say, what was there to say? You had so many questions and yet you could not speak. You weren’t even sure if you were just dreaming, it almost seems like a dream. A house far away from everything and everyone, and your boys were right there with you bringing you breakfast in bed. You were partially worried that you would wake up and find yourself sleeping in a plane seat millions of miles away from them, but the other part of you worried that you would never wake up.

“How long?” you finally spoke, voice still hoarse. A moment of silence fell before he answered.

“I can’t tell you.” Marc says lowering his eyes, something he does when he has something to hide.

“Did Steven or Jake tell you that,” You fidgeted with the sleeve of your shirt.

“Neither.”

“You have to let me go,” You finally said, voice getting a little less hoarse the more you speak. “Please.”

“Stop,” He said looking at you finally with a hard look in his eyes, “Stop saying you have to leave. You don’t need to leave.”

“Yes I do,” you emphasized, you held his face in order to hold his gaze, “there are a lot of things you don’t know about me, things that I’ve lied about. That person you fell in love with isn’t me, I’ve done horrible things-”

“I know-”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes,” he said, grabbing your wrist with an intense look in his eyes, “I do.”

It was like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on you and stuck a fork in an outlet all at the same time. There was no way he could know, at least, not everything.

“I know that you used to be a Black Widow,” he said, taking a step towards you, the grip on your wrist tightening, “you’ve killed, lied, and stole from many people including me.” his nose brushed with yours as you tried to steady your breathing.

“How could you know all that?” You asked, whispered, your mind was pounding in time with your heart as he leaned closer to your ear.

“I also know you used to be a mercenary,” you heard him whisper in your ear, his breath ghosting over the goosebumps that formed on your skin, “that’s how we met.” you stopped breathing as he leaned slightly away from you, far enough for you to look him in the eyes. Dark eyes that held the sun in them.

Oh.

The last job you went on you worked with a team, you never saw his face and he was never much of a talker. You just remember his eyes as he held a gun to you ready to shoot…only to lower the gun and let you get away.

That had been Marc.

Without a second thought you ripped your wrist from his grip and grabbed the glass laying on the nightstand throwing it at him. Your heart pounded as you made your way through the open door, sure to close and block it before he had time to reach it. You were sure by now you were on the verge of a heart attack with how loudly your heart was pounding. You could hear Marc on the other side banging the door with his fists. You had no plan, your heart was breaking all over again and your entire body has gone into a fight and flight zone. You made your way down the wooden stairs skipping every other step, unafraid of the small fall you have on the last step before you regained balance and ran straight through the front door. Even from outside you can still hear him banging and screaming, you tried to decide where the best place to run to when the banging stopped. It wasn’t in Marc's nature to give up so you look behind you, he wasn’t coming down the stairs either. What the hell?

Then you heard a familiar grunt and footsteps above you.

The open window.

All at once it didn’t matter where you ran to as long as you ran. Your feet carried you swiftly into the tree lining of the woods surrounding the house. The adrenaline coursing through your veins hid the pain of the cuts and barbs that scratched you as you pushed them aside. Your goal was to run, or to find a pointy enough stick or a sharp enough stone to throw at him, but mainly run and hide.

You weren’t sure how long you ran, all you knew was that your lungs were on fire and you couldn’t feel your limbs. You knew you couldn’t run much further, at least, not at full speed. So you went to the nearest, sturdy tree you could find and climbed, you grabbed one branch after another. The bark dug into sensitive parts of your hand but you didn’t care, you could see your arms shaking as they pulled you up to that final branch. It seemed strong enough to hold your weight and shielded enough to provide cover.

One of the things the Red Room taught you was to assess weakness and who had the advantage. Marc had the advantage when it came to muscle mass, but you had experience–granted those were mainly espionage missions that required more brains than combat prowess. You always carried a gun on you, but if he was smart (which you know he is) he took that away and was carrying it with him now.

All this time, you thought he loved you and that you were protecting him. You never even suspected the truth, he seemed so familiar and you had that gut instinct that something was up but you ignored it. All this time everything had been a lie, he didn’t love you, he was finishing the job. How long did he have his eye on you before he made a move?

Stop! You didn’t have time to mourn, you had to focus on surviving.

You halted your greedy intakes of air as you heard rustling in the leaves. Careful not to make the slightest sound as you saw him run past, calling your name. You waited until you slowly couldn’t hear the crackling of the leaves before beginning your descent. Time was of the essence, at some point Marc will come back to retrace steps, so you had to make another break in a different direction he had gone. Maybe back to the house and hotwire the beat up jeep you saw in the driveway. Once there you would make it to the second nearest village because the nearest would be the first place he’ll look, use one of those grimy old payphones to call in your ID guy.

Your feet had barely touched the ground before you felt the wind being knocked out of you as you tackled the ground. You were pinned before you could push Marc off of you, unable to do much but struggle in his grip.

“Do it,” you growled while still fighting, “I’m not going to stop fighting but if you’re going to do it, do it now.”

“Do what now?!” His eyes wide and intense, his grip becoming tighter on your wrists again.

“Kill me!” You yell, “that’s what all this has been for, hasn’t it? I killed your boss and stole a lot of money and relics from the people who hired us. A lot of different people want me dead, a lot of powerful people who can make things happen want me dead for more than this. Once you kill me you’ll have your pick of the litter. Whatever you want.” You see his brows furrow as you feel his breath ghost over your lips.

“Have you ever thought that maybe what I wanted was you?” He pecked your lips once before continuing, “that I intended to keep you for myself rather than sell you to the highest bidder.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Cause I love you,” Marc said, pinning your hands above your head with one hand while the other caressed your cheek, “I have since we met on those desolate dunes, that has never been a lie.” you can feel his heartbeat as he lays his weight down on top of you, like so many times before, as his words swirl around your head. Your first thought was that he was lying, how could he not be? Deep down, however, as you looked him in the eyes you were reminded that Marc was many things–but a good liar was not one of them.

“You can love me,” you say, “and still betray me.” you hear him let out a frustrated groan as he drops his head to your shoulder. You can feel his grip tighten before he lets your wrist go, and his weight on you is gone leaving you strangely cold. For a moment you think he’s letting you go, a foolish thought, one full of hope.

You were wrong.

No sooner had you gotten off the ground yourself, your feet were dangling above the ground as you were swung over his shoulder like you weighed nothing more than a sack of potatoes. Had this been ANY different situation your knees would be weak for a different reason.

Once again you fought, kicking and screaming. He wasn’t going to kill you, not yet, but you were honest when you said you weren’t going down without a fight. You didn’t even register entering the house until he sat you on the couch with an unceremonious plop, his hands gripping your shoulders and a frustrated look in his eye.

“What is it going to take to get you to believe me?” He said, voice low edging on a growl.

“Give me one good reason to believe that you wouldn’t give me up.” You said, eyes narrowing, “a reason that I would believe.'' There was a beat of silence, you see his brows furrowed together as his brain itches for an answer that you know he wouldn’t have. He has betrayed you and has all the reasons in the world to sacrifice you to the altar.

Then the lights starting flickering,

The hairs on your neck stood on end as you felt a shift in the air, the lights flickering and a hum of something else. Something you’ve never encountered before. Then you see the bandages wrapping themselves around Marc like snakes and his eyes were no longer the dark color you used to adore. They glowed now like moonlight reflecting off of water.

Of course.

You’ve seen the small articles in the paper passing by or clickbait news in the media about London’s vigilante who called themselves Moon Knight. You usually never paid much attention to it, you rarely were out past dark anyway why would you? Maybe you should’ve.

“If I wanted anything that they have,” You hear him say as the mask unbound itself to reveal his face, “I would’ve just taken it, and they couldn’t have stopped me.”

“You’re moon knight.” Of course the first person you fall in love with is not only a mercenary, but also a superpowered vigilante. Your life hasn’t been ordinary, why would your love life be?! You groaned in frustration as you leaned your head back against the couch, “well that explains why you always look exhausted and always came back home at weird hours.”

“You knew about that?” He asked, you gave him a deadpan look, “...of course you did.” You look at him for a moment and replayed every moment in your head leading up to this, he had a point. With these powers he really could have walked into any place, taken what he wanted, and left. He wouldn’t have needed you, but why keep you?

“Ok,” you start, “so you don’t intend to sell me or kill me or whatever.”

“I’ve been telling yo-”

“But why keep me?” You ask, “Why bring me here? Based on this house and location it is-”

“Everything you ever wanted.” Marc finished, his grip softening on your shoulders, “a small house with a sunroom, far away from everyone, a place to plant flowers and a lot more sun than what you got in the city…A home.”

“This would’ve taken at least half a year to build,” you say, “and another few weeks to a month to draft up the plans. So that means that you have been planning on bringing me here since-”

“Since fate decided to give us a second chance,” he said, “I couldn’t follow you before and lost you, trust me I tried to follow you but you were so damn good at running and hiding that I couldn’t find you. Then, one day, I see you on the bus. I was a fly on the wall, Steven was in charge, but I saw you. You have no idea how badly I wanted to talk to you, but seeing how you fled before, I knew I had to be patient. I told Steven everyday to talk to you, building him up until he eventually sat next to you.” You see him laugh a little, “I really shouldn’t have kept him up the night before, but it all turned out alright.”

He was sick, you knew this from the beginning, you just never looked below the surface of it. He needed help, something you couldn’t give him here.

“Baby,” You said softly, holding his hands as he knelt down in front of you, kissing the tops of his still bandaged covered hands, before leaning your forehead against his, you had to be calm. You had to convince him with honey and not vinegar. “Thank you so much for doing this, it must have been so much work.” You start, lowering your voice to barely a whisper, already sensing the tension leaving his body, “you must be so tired.”

“I am.”

“I’m just worried for you,” you said brushing your nose against his, “maybe we should see someone hmm? Like a specialist or a doctor, get you some melatonin or some medicine to help you sleep.” You feel him shake his head before you gently shush him, bringing a hand to cup his stubbly cheek, “just to help you sleep.”

“I don’t need them.” He says definitely, “I have you.”

“And you’ll always have me.” You promise, “let’s just call and make the appointment, I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to help.”

“No,” he mumbles quietly at first, “no” a little louder, “I don’t-”

“Do it for me?” You ask, fluttering your eyelashes and giving him a small smile, “please baby.” gently moving your hand to scratch the nape of his neck you knew he was putty.

“Ok,” he agrees.

“Ok,” you quietly repeat, trying to keep your tone even, “how about we call them right now and make an appointment?”

“No.”

“Ok,” you say, rubbing soothing circles on the back of his neck, “we don’t need to call them right now but in a short bit here, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You breathe in, “yeah.”

156 notes · View notes

lastchancestardomm · 2 months

Text

We Will Never Leave You.

Mercenaries x Teen!Reader

Word Count - 3.1K

Warnings: Implied drugged drinks. Heavy swearing. Fluffy Found-Family Mercenaries. OC-insert. Written accents.

Status - Not Beta Read

A/N: This is by far my biggest fic ever. I consider it my Mona Lisa. My tour de force. You get the point– this is my favourite Ana fic ever. Oh, by the way, you really should read my first Mercenaries x Teen!Reader fic, "A Real Family", because while it isn't related to this one, it does add some background. Ana is a chaos kid, just so you know. There's so much to this saga, and so few words to be able to express it. Also, all my fics are formatted on mobile 😎.

The Mercenaries were hard to live with. They worked everyday and when they returned to base they were tired as hell. On ceasefire days, most would be too exhausted, or busy with other work to hang out with Ana. And she was getting sick of it.

She had battles to win, friends to make, places to explore, rocks to kick, dirt to dig in– she wasn't a little kid who needed to be protected.

That's why on one night, while everyone else slumbered in their beds, she snuck out of the base. All Ana had on her was her pocket knife with the beaten-up blade, and some money. Looking back at the base, seeing the soft orange glow of lamps in various windows, she began her charge to the small town of Teufort.

As she reached the town, she plopped herself down on a park bench. It was a nice night, honestly; a light breeze, a full moon, and the smell of dew lingering in the air. Ana sighed deeply, knowing well that any of the Mercs would be (rightfully) pissed if they knew she were here. Especially so late. Ana took out her knife and began to fiddle with it.

The blade sprung out, ready for action at each flick of her wrist, only to be diligently pushed back into its handle by her thumb. She thought of her friend in town, Mandy Tanaka– maybe Ana could visit her, and stay until morning. That'd be nice, 'cause Mandy is too dumb to know that people shouldn't visit at 2:37 in the morning. Maybe they could–

"Nice blade there."

Ana jumped. Her head whipped up to be met with the face of someone. It was a guy. He was about six feet tall, and skinny; but he was intimidating. He had tattoos on his arms, a nose ring, and wicked hair that looked to be streaked with mud. His left eye also looked to be bruised. He wore a stained tank top and baggy jeans.

"Sorry kid, didn't mean to scare you," his voice was rough, like sandpaper on Ana's ears.

She frowned, and huffed, "I wasn't scared."

He chuckled. "Really? Whatever, shortstack." Ana was more focused with looking at the stains on his shirt. Some were red, others were brown. Unfortunately, he seemed to notice her staring.

"What'cha so interested in? Am I really that much of a looker?" he seemed to eye her up and down.

Ana frowned again, and backed up on the bench, her back pressing on the cool metal bars. "Your shirt, lollakas. What's on it?"

"Feisty, aren't we?" He commented, ignoring her question. "I like that".

Ana stuck her pocket knife back into its sheath on her boot, and crossed her arms. She eyed the guy critically.

"So, you wanna kick it with me, kid? You look like the kind to enjoy a little mischief,"

Ana's eyes met his. She hesitated for a bit. This guy was much older than her. Then again, she was only sixteen. He looked twenty, maybe twenty-two. She thought for a moment, before a mischievous grin tugged at her lips.

She nodded. "Jah. Jah, I'll join ya."

He smirked. "Whatever you say, kid. C'mon." He turned on his heel and began to walk off, hands casually in his jean pockets. Ana bounced onto her feet and quickly caught up with him. "So, kid, think you're ready for what we'll do tonight?"

Ana rolled her eyes. She's sixteen, not a kid. If she wanted to, she could drive a car. "I have a name, you know," she scoffed. The guy side-eyed her, and quirked a brow as he kept walking. "It's Ana."

He shrugged. "Alright."

She rose a brow. "So...? What's yours?"

He dug his hands deeper into his pockets. "Chet."

Ana stared ahead, and turned back to Chet. "What are we going to do?"

He smirked slightly. "You'll find out kid."

He led her to a warehouse type of building; adorned with rusty metal siding, and had to be at least three stories high with one lamp hanging taut on a metal cord over the door. Chet knocked twice on the dingy metal door and someone opened it from the inside.

"Hey sweetheart!" the girl who answered the door cooed. She was also skinny, like him, and had multiple lip piercings. She wore fishnets under jean shorts, and her pink tank top sagged to where it was showing a lot of cleavage.

Her eyes were covered by reflective shades that gleamed green and purple under the grody yellow light from the lamp hanging above them.

"Oooh, who's this?" she asked in her squeaky voice. A cigarette that was in her mouth fell wetly to the ground.

"Fresh meat," Chet said.

"Finally, a girl. I'm getting sick of you and all your goonies constantly coming over," she kissed Chet's cheek, "not that I don't enjoy your company." He seemed to smile, though it looked more like a smirk. Chet took Ana by the wrist and dragged her over to a beaten-up old couch inside.

They plopped down together on it. Ana sat across from them on the floor, legs crossed.

"So, kid, ever had alcohol before?"

Ana shook her head. "I'm not old enough. I'm uh, kuusteist. I, uh– um... sixteen..."

The woman cackled. "So? Hunny, the rules don't apply here! Here, try some, we got plenty!"

"Yeah, kid. Don't even have to swig it if you don't want to," Ana watched as Chet took a bottle of beer from a crate underneath the sidetable by the couch and popped it open. He took a long drink before setting it back down with an empty clink. It was completely drained.

He cracked open a few more, passing them to his girlfriend, who would ditch her empty bottles on the grotty beige carpeting. They gulped down the beers one after the other, the girl eventually pulling out cigarettes to pair with their excessive drinking.

Chet's girlfriend placed an open bottle in front of Ana, rolling the metal cap around in her hands. She took her hand and pointed a finger to it. "Drink it,"

Ana bit her lip. Her hand drifted over to the bottle and she picked it up. She stared at the bottle dumbly. Ana wasn't stupid, she knew pretty damn well not to take food or drinks from strangers. Her dad taught her that. She sniffed the opening, and it reeked of something strange. No, no; something spicy. Whatever it was, it made the beer smell wrong.

Chet's girlfriend looked at her. "Don't just stare at it, silly, drink it!" she drunkenly giggled.

"I- I don't want t-to.." Ana stuttered.

Chet's flushed face immediately darkened. "What?" Chet asked. Ana stiffened, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. Chet let out an angry, strangled sound that was in-between a scoff and a frustrated laugh. "You don't want to? Kid. That wasn't a question. This shit isn't cheap. Drink that fucking thing right now."

Ana slowly stood up, unsure if she was to run or stay. Her eyes darted around. A bottle whizzed past her head, barely missing her by a hair and shattering into the wall behind her, and she fearfully collapsed back onto the floor in a heap.

"C'mon! It ain't that fucking hard to drink it!" Chet shouted. His girlfriend tried to grab his surprisingly well-built arms to hold him back.

"No! Chet, hun, chill. She's just a kid. I know you're not like this!"

Chet stood up and grabbed another empty bottle of the floor. "Nah, toots! This kid wanted to have a good time tonight. But she's gotta listen to us if she really wants to," Chet stepped closer to her.

Ana backed up on the floor, and kicked the bottle over by mistake. The hazel, bubbly liquid spilled out from the neck of the bottle right into the carpet. Chet stopped in his tracks, and stared at the growing dark stain. He looked back up at Ana, with a horridly familiar rage in his eyes.

"Didn't you fucking hear me?! Don't you know how fucking hard it is to get that shit?! Get out! Get the fuck out before I kill you!" Chet charged at Ana like an angry bull. His girlfriend tried to hold him back, but she was weak and delirious from the alcohol and fell back onto the couch with a whimper.

Ana gasped and stumbled up. She sprinted for the door, bashing through it like an unstoppable force (even if her forearms were already bruising because of the reckless maneuver). "Get back here you fucking runt!" he called after her.

She hightailed it, speeding through the small town right back to the safety of RED Headquarters. She ran faster than she ever had, that super fast kind of running that made her sides hurt. So fast, her poor feet couldn't keep up with her in the clunky military boots Soldier had gifted her.

Ana tripped on her own feet, and came crashing down; rolling along the dirt ground before coming to a rude stop by hitting a rock jutting out of the desert ground. Chet came up on her quickly after, and grabbed her by her shirt collar.

"Stupid little kid," he mumbled under his breath, which Ana further noted to be stinking with some kind of drug, along with alcohol. His nose flared as he dropped Ana back onto the ground.

Before Ana could try to crawl away, Chet plowed his foot into Ana's side. She curled into a protective ball, as more blows rained down on her. Ana grabbed her pocket knife from her boot, but as she tried to unfurl (intending to stab Chet in the foot) a well-timed kick clocked her right in the chin; knocking one of her top teeth out, and sending her flying onto her back. Her pocket knife wasn't sent too far, either.

Chet stomped on her chest, the pain burning as it felt like her ribs broke. Ana attempted to roll away, but Chet stepped on her back, pressing his weight onto her. "Not so feisty now, huh?" he bit.

He bent over to take the pocket knife from the red-orange dirt of Teufort–or most of the Badlands for that matter–and stabbed it into her shoulder. Ana cried out in pain, a shrill shriek accompanied by various tortured Estonian curses.

Before he could drive the knife deeper into Ana's shoulder, a figure tackled him to the ground. The figure held a long, knife-like object to Chet's neck, as he squirmed under their weight. "Think again, yah buggar," it muttered. The figure then cut Chet's throat, his desperate gurgling invading Ana's ears.

The figure stood up, and walked over to her. As it came closer to the dim streetlights, she could make out the hat and amber-tinted sunglasses of Sniper, who glared down at her disappointingly. He put away his Kukri, and bent down to take the pocket knife out of Ana's shoulder.

As the cold blade came out, all Ana could do was wail pained apologies to the kiwi. "Sniper, I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have left!" her eyes watered from the pain, but Sniper said nothing. "Ah... vabandust!"

He ripped a small part of his sleeve off to act as a temporary tourniquet until they got back to base, and once he was sure of the knot, he turned around and pointed at his back. Ana complied, crawling onto his back carefully.

He began to walk with her back to the base. His walking was quicker than normal from his height, but he remained silent throughout the ordeal. Ana nuzzled her face into his shoulder blade.

"Sniper?" He said nothing. "How did you find me?" He continued to stay silent. "Sniper, answer me." He stared blankly ahead. She checked his shirt. Yep, he was on her team.

Once she and him were back at base, he placed her down in front of the door. He leaned down to check his makeshift tourniquet, and pulled on the tails of the knot to make it tighter before getting back up. The lights in the base were on, and Ana could hear arguing from behind the door.

"Vell? Vhat should ve do? Sniper is gone, Ana is missing, and zhe others are having no luck finding her!" Medic cried.

"Ah'm tryin' to think, doc! Where would she have gone? Scout and Heavy haven't found anythin' on the battlefield, Spy hasn't reported back from the other base, Pyro's too busy bawlin' his eyes out, and Soldier is on a rampage God-knows-where followed by Demoman!" Engineer exclaimed back.

Sniper nudged Ana with his elbow as he walked by. He opened the door and strode in. "Herr Sniper! Vhere have jou been?! Is Ana vis jou?"

Sniper crossed his arms, with a scowl on his face. "Why don'tcha ask 'er yourself, doc?" On cue, Ana stepped into the base.

"Ana!" Engineer screeched with pure joy. "Medic! Check her! Ah'm gonna go tell the others!" Engineer ran out of the room, hot on his heels.

Medic rushed over and looked her over. Ana's whole body was covered in dirt and bruises. Medic paused when he laid his eyes upon Sniper's tourniquet on her arm. He applied some pressure to the covered wound, but just sighed as it had to do for now.

"Oh, Ana, vhere did jou go? Vhat vere jou doing?" Medic asked.

Sniper grunted. "The sheila was off in Teufort with some punk. He was kickin' 'er ass before Oi stepped in. Oi saw her leavin' from me van and followed 'er there." Some Mercenaries filled the room. Those included Scout, Heavy, and Pyro.

Pyro was a sobbing mess. His mask was off, and his face was all red with his eyes all puffy. "Ana!" he yelped, which broke her heart. His charismatic Italian-New Yorkan accent soiled by a scratchy throat from him wailing his lungs out earlier.

"Wh- why did you- you leave us?" He asked, sniffling. He quivered and Engineer hugged him. Medic stood up and strode over to Heavy.

Suddenly, Soldier smashed through a window, "Maggots!" he cried. Demoman followed suit, and crashed through the wall right next to Heavy in a cloud of shrapnel and dust. Heavy didn't even flinch, but Medic screamed and fell over in a panic. Soldier had tear streaks on his cheeks, and Demoman's eye was red and puffy.

Ana looked at all the worried men. She never expected them to cry over her. She knew they cared about her, yeah, but they were all grown men who had lives and live and jobs to do; not waste away their free time watching over a slimy, no-good, Eesti teen they didn't even need to watch over in the first place!

She was only gone for what? An hour and a half? But maybe they really did care more than she thought.

"Ana..." Sniper's voice brought her out of her thoughts. "Tell 'em why you were in Teufort,"

Scout gasped and stammered, "Wh-wh– wha-what?! Why did yah go so far? What were yah doin'?" his voice cracked mid-sentence. A chill ran up Ana's spine.

"Oui, chérie, and what were 'ou doing?" The Spy had arrived.

She stood quietly, and looked at each and every one of them. Demoman seemed shocked, nearly distraught; Soldier had a poker face, but tears still dribbled down his cheeks; Spy looked concerned, though wasn't crying. He seemed to handle this ordeal the best.

Sniper looked pissed off, and a bit annoyed; Scout was shell-shocked; Heavy was stone-faced, but had dried tear streaks on his face, and was helping a worried and frazzled Medic to his feet; Pyro had his face buried in Engineer's chest, still sniffling and hiccuping; and then Engineer looked... disappointed.

And Ana started to cry.

From her slumped stand, she collapsed to her knees and cried. She didn't hiccup or sob, but she took shaky breaths as tears flowed down her face.

Godammit....

"I w-was just s-sick of being left– left out!" Most men stiffened. "I wanted to g-go see– see the town! I wanted to do s-some– something instead of sit in my damn room! Like every other frickin' day!" she covered her face with her hands, her head feeling heavy.

She just wanted to curl up and disappear. Have them all forget about her. Make it like it used to be in Otepää when she was young. "Vabandust.. I didn't think you cared about me anymore,"

Demoman spoke up, "Lassie, we would nevah stop carin' 'bout yah." Heavy joined in, "Дa, leetle gurl needs us and ve need leetle gurl."

Pyro made his way over to Ana. He knelt in front of her and took her hands in his own, which were coarse from years upon years of fire burns. His face was very red, and many winding lines of tear streaks ran down his cheeks. "We will never stop carin' about yah, Ana," he said. "We will always love yah, and take care of yah."

"I'm sorry we can't be d'ere everyday. I'm sorry yah were raised up in such a bad place. I'm sorry we can't be the guardians yah need us ta' be."

Ana cried out more and threw her sore arms around Pyro's neck. "D-don't be sorry! You g-guys are the best any– anyone could ask f-for!" She felt Pyro's arms wrap around her, "I wouldn't give y-you guys up for anything!" she said.

"We wouldn't give yah up eithah, Roo," Sniper said, patting Ana on the back as she was held in Pyro's embrace.

Engineer strode over, and took her from Pyro. He held her in an embrace, "Listen Ana, Ah don't want yah feelin' like we don't care for yah. We really do. Alla us would risk anythin' for yah. Sure, we're all busy with work and when we come back we're all tuckered out, but if yah wanna do somethin', we'll do it. Startin' today Ah think we should all dedicate a few hours to yah after work. Right fellas?" The others nodded.

"How does that sound darlin'?"

She shrugged, "I don't want you guys to hang out with me if you don't want to, or if you're tired,"

Demoman piped up, "It'd be worth it, lass!" Soldier agreed with the Scot, "Yes! I would climb a mountain and fight my old roommate if you wanted me to!"

Ana laughed, "But you fight him every Halloween!"

Soldier nodded, "Exactly, Cadet!"

"Leetle gurl?" Heavy asked. She looked at him. "You understand that all us men love you, correct?" Ana nodded. "Vell, don't forget."

She smiled at him. "I love all you guys, too. Ma armastan teid koiki in my language, just so you know." she giggled.

Medic walked over to her and placed his hand under her chin.

"Und ve vill never stop loving jou."

51 notes · View notes

kivaember · 28 days

Text

when you get the urge to just crank out 2k+ oneshot about rusty getting briefly jealous over ayre when 621 tells him about her............ well anyways. here, enjoy! (it's not 2am i should sleep)

jealousy

Rusty wasn't quite sure when it started exactly, these talks with the new merc in town.

The days were long on Rubicon, and the nights even longer, and as the stalemate stretched between Arquebus and Balam, so too did the monotony of the various sorties Rusty was sent out on. Usually he was alone, performing well at 'surgical strikes' or 'sabotage runs', but sometimes he was deployed alongside the MT squad he was the commander of. There wasn't much chatter there, though, except for 'yes sir!' or 'understood, commander!' from the grunts, or Snail's dulcet tones drawling through the comms.

With the new merc, it was a little different.

He didn't talk for one. Raven only ever communicated through text, and even these were very short phrases like ack, or negative, or clarify. It should've been off-putting, but Rusty found a strange sort of openness to the blank canvas Raven offered during sorties. No matter what Rusty said, Raven always replied with an ack at the very least.

Acknowledgement. I acknowledge your words.

It was little things at first, inconsequential. After their first team up at The Wall, where Raven survived where he shouldn't've, Rusty had been curious yet wary. He knew that the merc was running a stolen license - he'd met the original Raven and had narrowly escaped with his life in the encounter - and he'd heard of Handler Walter's reputation. His Hounds tended to be high-quality pilots, no matter their outdated augmentations and their equally outdated ACs - and they bore no loyalty to no one but Walter, who was a dangerous wildcard in his own right.

So Rusty had tried to scope out this 'hound'. Got absolutely fuck-all in return.

"So, where're you from?" Ack. Negative. "Nowhere?" Ack. "How old are you?" Ack. Negative. "You don't know?" Ack. "What's your favourite food?" Ack. Negative. "You don't have one?" Ack. "What're your plans after Rubicon?" Ack. Negative. "None?" Ack.

Was it cageyness? Maybe he was so brainfried he didn't remember? Rusty didn't know, but it prompted him to give him examples in return, even if they were all blatant lies:

"I'm from the Jupiter colonies, though I grew up in Tau Ceti." Ack. "I'm almost forty years old." Ack. "My favourite food is seafood paella." Ack. "I plan to take a two week vacation to the beach after Rubicon and blow all my bonus money on a new car." Ack.

And from there...

Rusty didn't know when it started. When his probing questions getting stonewalled turned into him just... talking to Raven, if only to hear the ack in return. How his blatant lies shifted into something just half a step away from vaguely truthful, on those long days and even longer nights, during sorties where they trashed Balam outposts and sent their MTs running, or harassed Liberation Front supply lines (yet, somehow, those Rubiconists always somehow managed to slip away before they could be captured for re-education, strange that....)

It'd become a sort of catharsis for him, a comfort. Maybe this was what it was supposed to be like when you went to therapy, having someone you could just talk at to sort out your own thoughts, not having to juggle with actually carrying a conversation, just needing someone to say yup, i hear you, i'm listening, without giving needless platitudes or advice - or worse, asking questions.

Hah.

It was kind of pathetic, really.

But for someone like Rusty, this was the best he was going to get. Once he'd finished his mission, no one would ever want to speak to him again - provided he wasn't buried in a shallow, unmarked grave, with his name synonymous to traitor.

So, despite the slippery slope this was, with Raven squatting in the nebulous region of threat i am keeping close to observe and one of the few decent people in my fucked up social circle i'd be sad to kill one day, Rusty kept talking.

And eventually... Raven spoke back.

"-nyway, it's getting a bit awkward right now. Freud's more than a little antsy at how Snail keeps giving me all the assault missions while he's staying benched just in case, and I have no idea how to tell him that Snail's probably just trying to kill me by overworking me. Well, tell him in a way to say 'this isn't a good thing!' Pretty sure Freud would find that a fun afternoon, dodging assassination attempts..."

'Ack.'

"Honestly, I'm a little jealous of you sometimes, buddy," Rusty sighed half-jokingly. He toed a chunk of scrap with STEEL HAZE's clawed foot, checking it for mines. Balam had gone a little nuts with this current outpost of theirs, and the place was lousy with them. "You get to pick and choose your missions, and don't have to deal with office politics. Now there's a battlefield that takes no survivors, let me tell you."

'Ack.'

"In fact, it's just you and Walter, isn't it?" Rusty mused. He knew Arquebus had already exhausted its information network to dig up as many skeletons as it could on Walter, and amazingly enough they'd only come up with a few bones. Walter's past was shadier than midnight fog, and Raven basically manifested out of thin air with how non-existent his papertrail was.

Or, rather, how fraudulent it was. The original C4-621 had died over two years ago. Whoever this 621 was... no one had a clue, no one but Raven himself and Walter, that is.

'Ack. Negative.'

Rusty paused, putting his very cautious examination of his immediate surroundings on hold as he fixed STEEL HAZE's ocular feeds onto STALKER.

"It isn't?"

Raven didn't respond, which was odd. He always gave at least an ack. Had he said something he wasn't supposed to? Rusty was intrigued... but he knew he'd get nothing else out of him. Still, it was a scrap of info-

'i have a friend.'

Rusty blinked at the words that flashed across his HUD, in the little chatbox that was designated for STALKER's text comms. It was not ack, negative or clarify. It was actually a full on sentence, the very first that Rusty had ever read from the mercenary.

He was actually speechless for several moments, the words actually taking some time to fully process their meaning.

"A... friend?" Rusty repeated.

'Ack.'

Rusty waited, because in any normal social setting this would be when elaboration occurred, but after three whole minutes where they just stood there staring at each other, Rusty realised nope, that was it. Raven just upended the norm to drop an enigmatic sentence and decided to explain nothing. Typical.

"...who's this friend?" Rusty tried. "You got a name for them? Any details? C'mon, throw me a bone here."

There was no immediate response. Rusty waited impatiently.

'Ayre. She's a Rubiconian. I have no bones. Sorry.'

Ayre? A Rubiconian? She?

"Huh..." Rusty's stomach felt weird, a sort of knotted tension he couldn't quite explain. A Rubiconian... he didn't know anyone by the name of 'Ayre', but then again, he's been away for ten years and didn't know everyone... as an independent mercenary, too, Raven probably took jobs for the RLF - Rusty already knew of two he'd taken - so... probably someone from one of the other cells...

A friend though... he probably interacted with her outside of missions to have that close of a relationship. Two months, though? This was the first time Rusty had prised anything other than ack, negative or clarify from the guy in those months, and it turned out he had a full on friend in his back pocket this whole time? Talk about a shock...

"How'd... you meet?" Rusty asked, aiming for casual but his words coming out all stiff instead.

'Mission.'

Right, of course.

Rusty abruptly returned to the task at hand: checking their ground route for mines as they inched through the outer perimetre of the Balam outpost. Usually they'd just fly over the damn things, but Balam had installed some heavy-hitting anti-air cannons, the outpost practically a bristling porcupine with how many of them were primed and ready to shoot a fly out of the sky so... here they were, tiptoeing through a minefield instead.

It was tedious but doable. STEEL HAZE's LIDAR system was finetuned enough to detect the mines before he entered their detonation range, and STALKER was a repurposed surveyor AC. It was slow but safe. Mostly slow.

'You too.'

"Huh?" Rusty blinked at the sudden text, confused from the lack of context. "Me what?"

'Friend.'

"...oh." It clicked. "I'm your friend too?"

'Ack.'

"Thanks, buddy," Rusty said, injecting some friendly cheer into his tone, even as he felt... conflicted over the whole thing. His stomach hurt like he'd just eaten a bowl of stinging nettles, his mouth twisted into a grimace as his emotions bounced between tiredly resigned and intensely guilty.

He didn't return the sentiment, and Raven said nothing else. In fact, the rest of the mission was completely silent, broken only by Rusty giving the occasional order or situation update as they penetrated the minefield and destroyed the anti-air guns in the outpost, the Balam MTs routed and in full retreat.

Rusty knew it was out of character. He was chatty, especially with Raven, but his mind kept churning over this mystery friend. Ayre. She. Apparently been buddies with Raven for a while.

He was surprised Walter would've tolerated it. He always weighed in whenever he was on comms on their sorties, snapping at Raven to focus on the mission, or curtly telling Rusty to stop distracting his hound. Needless to say, he and Walter did not see eye-to-eye often, and Rusty couldn't help but feel that Walter held a hint of disdain for him specifically. He had no idea what he'd done to earn that mysterious handler's ire, though. Getting too friendly with his dog, maybe?

In which case...

"Hey, Raven," Rusty said, too curious for his own good. "Does Walter know about this Ayre of yours?"

'Ack.'

"He does? And he's... fine with her?" Rusty asked in mild surprise. Huh, maybe Walter was fine with his hound knowing nice girls? Well, as nice as freedom fighter girls could be... or Walter disliked corporate mercenaries? But he was oddly friendly with Michigan, so that couldn't be it...

Maybe he was just plain homophobic? Thought Rusty was some evil gay trying to seduce his hound to bat for the Arquebus team only? Rusty couldn't help but snort at that theory.

'He doesn't think she exists.'

Uh...

"He... what?"

'He doesn't think she exists.'

Rusty had no idea how to unpack that.

"...like, does he think she's a catfish or...?"

'? Catfish can't talk?'

"What?"

'She's not a fish?'

"No, I- not that kind of fish. A catfish."

'Catfish are a diverse group of ray-finned fish. They can't communicate with humans.'

"No, no, not- it's- it's describing a technique people use, to decieve someone with a fake identity. Usually in romance scams... it's called catfishing. So, a catfish. A person faking their identity to scam you out of something."

'Ack. Negative. Ayre is not 'fake' or scamming me.'

"But Walter thinks she is?"

'He thinks she doesn't exist.'

Why did Rusty feel like they were going in circles...? He let out a laugh, amused despite the frustratingly confusing nature of this entire discussion, and shook his head.

"Buddy... why doesn't he think she exists?"

The response was a long time coming. Long enough that Rusty thought Raven had dropped the topic entirely - even if it would've left Rusty thoroughly scratching his head on the apparent Schrodinger nature of one Ayre Rubicon, when:

'Because she doesn't have a body and only I can hear her voice. He thinks she's a hallucination.'

...

Okay.

Rusty had no idea how to unpack that.

"Huh," he said, with absolutely no emotion whatsoever. "I see."

He said nothing else. What else do you say to that. Really.

'You don't think she exists either.'

"I..." Rusty could practically sense some sort of wall being pulled up between him and Raven, leaving him with only a split second to make a snap decision. Tell the truth and say yes, I actually agree with your handler for once and think she's a hallucination, and alienate Raven, or lie and say no, I believe you, tell me more, and end up spending the rest of his time humouring Raven and his hallucination in full earnest.

And... really, what was wrong in that?

This hallucination clearly didn't interfere in Raven's mission performance, and he seemed to be otherwise connected to reality. Maybe Ayre was just a manifestation of Raven's loneliness, an imaginary friend he'd conjured up for himself and just couldn't let go of. Rusty knew Gen Fours had it hard. Legally, they weren't even considered humans, just intellectual property or military assets. Maybe this 'Ayre' was the only "human contact" he'd had until Rusty had come along.

With that in mind... Rusty's decision was easy.

"I believe you," Rusty said gently. "Just trying to wrap my head around not having a body... must be hard."

There was a pause, a long one, and Rusty waited to see if Raven would see through him and scorn him for trying to humour him, or if he was just-

'She says she's used to it, but there're some things she wants to do but can't, without a body.'

"Oh? Like what?"

And just like that, their roles were reversed. Raven's responses were slow, typed out as they were, but Rusty was getting more than ack, negative or clarify, and he felt a little rueful that it was because of an imaginary friend when he'd been standing right here for months...

But it was fine. Rusty'll show him that he didn't have to pretend to get his human interaction. Just like how Raven quietly listened and acknowledged his words, Rusty'll will do the same. And even if Raven kept hallucinating this Ayre, what did it matter, so long as it didn't interfere in his connection to reality?

Out of all vices Rusty had seen in his fellow pilots... this was the most harmless one

...if a little sad.

#armored core #armored core 6 #v.iv rusty #c4 621 #viv621 #fanfic #when ur slapped with a fic idea instead of sleeping...#anyway here's rusty getting jealous over ayre for a hot second

32 notes · View notes

flamehairedwritings · 8 months

Text

Stray: Chapter Two

Characters: Lt. Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female Reader

Rating: E, 18+ ONLY

Words: 4.3k

Summary: Ghost has a fine time making you admit you need want him.

A/N: Chapter Two of Six. A chapter posted every Monday!

Entire Story Tags: hurt/comfort, angst, enemies are lovers, porn with plot, they're not nice people, but are they

Chapter Tags: Angst, they say horrible things to each other, non sexual choking, Simon tied up, threats, dirty talk, just a lot of angst and heartache, reader is threatened, it's non-sexual

Read on AO3

Stray Masterlist

Please don’t copy or steal my work, and please don’t post it on any other sites. I do not consent to my work being used for AI purposes.

─

Chapter Two - The Warehouse

It was the message you never thought you’d get.

You still don’t quite believe it.

But he’d never lie. Not about something like this, anyway.

Striding across the warehouse floor, passing SUVS, sealed tight crates and people standing or sitting around, all sorts of weaponry strapped to their bodies, you ignore some of the eyes that follow you.

If some of them are doubting, your presence confirms it’s true.

Reaching one of the many steel staircases, you walk up, the picture of ease and control. Inside, though, your heart is pounding and your mind is racing.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

At the top, you round the railing and shove a door open. Two men raise their heads, both sitting on chairs, using a small crate as a table to play a card game on, and the one to your left nods down the long corridor.

“Down there, last room.”

“Thanks.”

Heading down, you press your lips together, the strip lights above you blinking and flickering irritatingly. And, even more irritatingly, your heart’s still pounding.

Get your shit together, get your fucking game face on, and don’t hesitate.

Reaching the metal door, you straighten your back and knock twice on it.

“Come on in!” a voice calls, the Brooklyn accent muffled through the door.

Gripping the handle, you fix an easy, warm smile on your lips, push the door open, and step into the room.

And you fight hard to keep the smile there as your gaze lands on Ghost, in only his jacket, trousers and boots.

The masks are still on.

Okay. All right.

And then his eyes lock with yours.

Finding quiet, controlled rage there, you swiftly drop your gaze to his arms, which are tied behind his back, to the metal chair, and then down to his ankles, finding the same. Both wrists and ankles are tied by zip-ties, and you’d laugh at the absurdity of that if you were anywhere else.

If you were with anyone else.

“Ah, Stray, sweetheart.”

Your gaze lifts to the voice, and your smile widens.

“Well, hello there.”

Angelo Vitale returns your smile, white teeth almost glowing in the dim room as he lifts his hands, the gold ring on his little finger glinting.

“There she is.”

Raising your eyebrows, your eyes flick to Ghost before back to him. “I didn’t believe it when I read your message, but here we are.”

“Your pretty eyes don’t lie, sweetheart.”

“They certainly don’t.” Folding your arms, you keep looking at him as he now looks away to Ghost, grinning like he’s won the fucking lottery.

Which he has.

You don’t know how he’s fucking done it, but he has.

I suppose that’s what money can do for you.

Your gaze travels over his yellow silk shirt, pressed trousers, shining shoes.

It can get you a team of well-paid mercs.

Standing before Ghost, you try not to cringe as Angelo slaps his hand against the hard mask a couple of times.

“Caught ourselves the biggest fish in the lake, didn’t we? Your intel on the base was right.”

Ghost’s dark eyes snap to yours, and it’s with practised, painful ease that you can appear nonchalant.

“I wouldn’t have told you if it wasn’t, sir.”

You see the faintest movement of his jaw beneath the material mask.

Looking away, tilting your head, you smile at Angelo.

“Shall I get to it, then?”

“Y’know what…” Angelo inhales a breath, hands on his hips as he looks Ghost over. “... Think I wanna watch this one. See what you can do to make the legendary Ghost spill his guts.”

Ghost turns his head, tearing his gaze from yours, and looks up at him.

“Like to watch, do you?”

Angelo grins, placing his hands on his knees as he bends down, looking him in the eye. “Oh, yeah. I like to see what she uses, it’s like art.” He tilts his head, softening his voice as he exhales a breath. “Think I also wanna see what it is about her that keeps you comin’ back for more.” He lowers his voice a little more, turning his head to look at you. “It’s that sweet pussy, isn’t it? Can bring the greatest of killers to their knees.”

Ghost is looking at you, too, eyes hard, and you manage to stop your jaw from clenching.

Angelo turns his head back to him, nose almost brushing against the mask as he murmurs, “If you’re a good boy, you might even get to feel it later.”

Simon’s arms flex as his fingers tighten into fists behind his back, but he can’t stop looking at your fucking face.

Your fucking nonchalant face.

Angelo straightens suddenly, claps a hand down onto his shoulder. “What a nice treat that’d be, huh, big guy?”

Ghost finally tears his gaze away, looking up at him.

He wants to ram his knife into the man’s fucking throat, spill his blood all over that silk shirt.

He will, one day.

He’ll make you watch. Maybe then you won’t be so fucking nonchalant.

He knew you were a piece of work, but not to this extent. Telling this fucker about the base? He didn’t even know how the boys were, who was still alive. Vitale’s men had arrived swiftly, with barely any warning, and they were fucking good.

Now here he was, in this fucking shit show, with him, and you.

He looks over at you again, watches the mouth he’d so adored open, but knocking on the door halts you.

“Enter,” Vitale calls, hands sliding into his pockets as he steps away, and the door opens, a merc appearing in the doorway.

“War Lord, sir, there’s something you’ll want to see.”

“Ah, damn, all right, one sec.”

Ghost frowns as he looks over to Vitale. “‘War Lord?’ Thought you were War Dog.”

Vitale smiles down at him. “Not anymore.”

“You’ve rebranded then, like a fucking delivery service?”

Fucking hell, Simon.

Your fingers dig into your arm as Angelo laughs, smiling widely. The sound’s false to your ears, and your eyes don’t leave him as he moves closer to Ghost, shaking his head.

“You’re one fucking funny guy, huh?”

Before Ghost can respond, Angelo’s fist suddenly darts out, colliding with his jaw. Ghost’s head turns with the action, a small grunt sounding from him, and you will him to keep his fucking mouth shut.

But, of course, he doesn’t.

“Can only do that ‘cause I’m tied down, can’t you, mate.”

Angelo hisses out a breath as he punches him again. Then again, then again. In the same place, over and over.

And you just stand there, mind racing again as you grit your teeth.

But there’s nothing you can do. Not if you really want to keep him safe.

Finally, Angelo steps back, panting, strands of his dark, usually perfectly slicked back hair falling over his forehead, and he inhales a long breath, massaging his knuckles.

“Not laughing now, are you, buddy,” he smiles.

Then, licking his lips, he turns, heading towards the door.

Keep your mouth shut, please keep your mouth shut, please─

Ghost clears his throat. “Yeah, best to stop before you get your lovely little shirt all stained.”

Angelo spins, fist raising, and you swiftly step in front of him, smiling softly.

“Sir,” you murmur, hands stroking his biceps gently. “Leave some for me, yeah? He’s not worth it. Not worth you.”

Angelo, lips pressed together, nostrils flaring, stares at Ghost for a few moments longer before his gaze drifts to you, and your stomach roils slightly from how it softens.

“You’re right, sweetheart.” Lowering his fist, he cups your cheek. “Get what you can out of him. Make me proud.”

Dropping his hand, with one last look at Ghost, he then turns and strides out of the room, the merc shutting the door behind him. Having turned to watch him go, you move towards the door, locking it.

And you gaze at the door for a moment.

And then you turn, looking at Ghost.

He’s looking at you, blood slowly seeping through the cloth of the soft mask.

Still.

Silent.

The corners of your mouth lift into a gentle smile.

“So… The easy way or the hard way?”

“You told him about base?”

His voice is tight. He’s really fucking pissed, and, of course, you don’t blame him.

You shrug a shoulder as nonchalantly as you can, because you got here after them; before you could sweep the room for bugs or cameras.

“Should be more careful about where you leave your maps.”

A lie. He’s not careless, and Ghost’s eyes narrow because he fucking knows it, too.

You’d used other means, but neither the man in here or out there can know that.

“I don’t fuck─”

Inhaling a breath, you move closer with a faux-pout. “I’m a little insulted you don’t respect my skills and talents, Simon.” You stop by the table that’s shoved against the wall next to the door, tilting your head as you smile. “Well, I know you like some of them.”

Oh, he’s really fucking pissed.

“Why’re you still fuckin’ with that little fucker?”

“Jealous?” You laugh softly, chest twisting. “Tell me where the cache is. Before this gets messy.”

“I’m not telling you a fuckin’ thing.”

The way he’s looking at you, like you’re nothing more than scum… Well, you know you deserve it.

So you might as well go with it.

“All right. All right,” you murmur softly as you approach, and you lower to your knees before him, hands resting on his knees. And you caress them in small, gentle circles. “We can do this the easy way.”

His eyes haven’t left you, and you see the small movement of his throat as he swallows slightly. “Do you like doin’ this, hm? Whoring yourself out for him?”

Your hands stop. After a moment, a slow smile lifts your lips.

Then, you’re suddenly on your feet, no, you’re straddling him, sitting down heavily on his thighs. He couldn’t stop the grunt that escaped him as you had, his lips pressing together as you sigh and drape your arms around his neck.

“There’s that jealousy again, Ghost,” you tut softly, practically purring. “I just hate it…”

Your hips are moving slightly, and he clears his throat quietly as you grind against his cock. Your hand is cradling the back of his head, too, fingers gently stroking. Sighing again, you lean your head against his, lips close to his ear. It’s with a soft, breathy voice that you next speak.

“... You know… I could be all yours…”

He just can’t help his eyes from falling shut, your hips continuing to grind.

“… I could leave him… work with you, only you… serve you…”

His eyes open and he pulls his head back, arching it away. “Stop it.”

Drawing your own head back, you smile at him. “What’s wrong, Simon, darling? You don’t like the thought of me serving you? Only on my knees for you? Your cock being the only one I suck, the only one I cum on─”

You break off with a sharp inhale as he bucks his thighs suddenly, forcing you to grip his shoulders.

“Stop. It.” he gravels, and you exhale a laugh.

“Why? Getting you all excited? Can’t you control yourself?” Your hands glide down his shoulders to his chest, moving to the zip of his jacket. “Why don’t I help you with th─”

His thighs buck again, making you grip on, and he hisses, “Get your fucking hands off me.”

Tilting your head, you press your lips together, exhaling a breath through your nose.

“You know I could remove your mask right now, don’t you? I’m surprised they haven’t already, but, then again, Angelo loves mystery, suspense. But I could take it off now, bare your face to me, to him, to the world. But I’m not doing that, am I, Ghost. So give me something.”

He looks at you, brow furrowing a fraction.

“Why haven’t you? Why haven’t you ever?”

You smile. “Tell me something.”

“You tell me.”

You gaze at him.

He doesn’t say a word.

After a few moments, you exhale a laugh. “As much as I love playing this game with you, if you don’t tell me something, anything, then he’s going to come in here, and he’s not as charming as I am.”

“Send him in, think I’d rather him than you.”

“Big words from a big man.” You’re smiling, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. “Trust me, you don’t. Tell me.”

He realises then, suddenly, stupidly.

You’re scared of Vitale. Not just for yourself.

For him.

Pressing his lips together, he holds your gaze and murmurs, “If you get these ties off, I can get us out.”

You frown lightly, briefly, then your features shift into practised seduction, your head tipping back a little as you laugh.

“Oh, lovely. And where would we go, Ghost, hm? The Bahamas? No, I bet you’d love somewhere like Skeggy─”

“I mean it. You know we could both do it, together─”

“Stop it.”

The hissed words had left you so quickly, so quietly. Your lips barely move as you continue, “You can’t win this one, Simon. Don’t make me have to watch.”

He opens his mouth, when, suddenly, you’re off him. Sighing loudly, in one swift movement, you unbuckle your vest and drop it onto the table. Removing a phone from your belt, you blow out a loud breath as you tap away on it for a couple of moments, then you toss it onto the vest. Turning to him, you place your hands on your hips.

“Come on, then, the 141, what’s the 411 on that?”

“What─”

“What are you all up to at the moment?”

“You know I’m─”

“Why are you here?” Your eyes have narrowed suddenly, and you fold your arms as you step closer. “They’re just zip-ties, Simon, you could break them in your sleep. Is this all a ploy?”

“Stray─”

You sigh heavily and raise your eyebrows. “I can see you’re going to be stubborn. Though, having you all tied up here, all for me…” A slow smile lifts your lips. “... It really would be a waste.”

You step forward again, nearly infront of him, and he tips his head back, gazing up at you, and he hates─

There’s two hard knocks on the door.

“Stray,” a voice calls.

Vitale.

He snorts as your arms drop. “Go on, run to your master.”

Smiling, you turn your back to him, heading towards the door. “Enjoy the view.”

Unlocking the door, you open it and step out without another look at him. Moving into the corridor after closing the door, your smile lingers as you look at Vitale, his hands on his hips.

And he’s pissed.

Before you can speak, he does, eyebrows raised.

“What’s takin’ so fuckin’ long?”

“This is Ghost, sir. It’s not going to be like with others.”

“Oh, so you’re not the fucking best at what you do, then? You’ve lied to me, countless times? Why the fuck do I keep you around then?”

Whatever it was the merc had to show him, it’s rattled him, and you can’t have his mood escalating.

Not with Simon here.

Softening your voice, you step closer to him. “Sir, I only meant that it will take a little longer. It will happen, I will find out for you.”

He shrugs briefly, staring at you. “How long we talkin’, then? Couple minutes, hours? Days?”

“No, not days─”

“How long, then?”

“Within the hour.”

He sighs heavily. “You have half an hour. Fuckin’ do something.”

You nod. “Yes, sir.”

Pressing his lips together, he then tuts as he drops his hands. “Hey, hey, come here…” When you step closer, he cups your face, tone softer when he continues. “You are the best at what you do, all right. I didn’t mean to be a dick.”

You smile softly. “I know, sir.”

“Hm.” His gaze drifts over your face, thumbs moving slightly against your cheekbones. “You gonna come to my room tonight?”

You shift your smile to a gentle, kind smirk. “Sir, you know I don’t mix business and pleasure.”

He sighs heavily again, blowing out the breath as his thumbs continue brushing against your skin. “I know. I know that. You only fuck for business. Maybe I’ll put a job out on myself one day, then I’ll get what I want.”

You manage a laugh, an easy smile. “Maybe you should, sir.”

“Hm.” He’s smiling, too. Then his brow dips a little, the smile lingering. “You don’t enjoy fucking him, do you?”

You’re quick, making your eyebrows rise. “Of course not. That’s just business. Certainly not pleasure.”

“Uh-huh…” His thumbs are still stroking your cheeks. “… and in all the times you’ve fucked him…” One hand moves, cupping the back of your head. “… you’ve not been able to give me a single piece…” The long fingers of his other hand have slipped down to your neck, where they squeeze. “… of useful information.”

You hold your ground, exhaling a strained breath.

“Sir…” you rasp. “… I gave you… the base location…”

“Oh, yeah. That was good.”

He holds you for a few moments longer, staring at you, then, he releases you, hands dropping to his sides.

You inhale quick breaths as quietly as you can, licking your lips, and he smiles widely.

“Let’s get somethin’ even better this time, huh. ‘cause you know what I’ll fuckin’ do to you if you don’t, all right.”

You nod, smiling lightly. “Of course, sir.”

“Don’t disappoint me. 30 minutes.”

“Yes, sir.”

He waves a hand at you, his other pulling his phone out of his pocket as he turns away, heading down the corridor.

“Go on, go, be brilliant.”

Watching his retreating back, you then turn to the door, your smile falling the moment you do, and you swallow hard.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Think.

Opening the door, you step back into the room and close it behind you, locking it. Ghost’s eyes flick to you, his head lifting.

“You done sucking him off? That didn’t take long.”

You shove away the all too fucking familiar pang in your chest, the ache, the anger… No… You keep the anger.

“Yeah, actually, he likes to be edged all day. Then I let him fuck me at the end of it.”

He just grunts, disgust faintly in his gaze, and you just fucking…

Striding across the room, you sit down heavily in his lap again, straddling him, and drape your arms around his neck once more.

He’s pulled his head back a little, frowning. “Fuck off─”

“Where were we?”

Angling your head, you press a firm kiss to his lips through the material mask. You taste blood.

He grunts, trying to pull his head back further, and then you pull back, gazing at him.

“You’re fuckin’ mental, do you─”

You shove off his hard mask, gripping it in your hand.

It’s minute, but you feel him stiffen under you.

There’s a pang again. The one you hate the most.

Sadness.

Gazing at him, after a few moments you lean over a little, placing the mask on the table, and then you turn back to him. He’s silent now, watching you, stone-still.

Lifting your hands, you keep your eyes on his as you gently and slowly fold up the material mask until his mouth is exposed. There’s bruises already forming along his jaw. His split lips are parted a little, and you can feel the small, shallow breaths he’s taking. Almost like he’s holding them.

You lower your hands.

He doesn’t speak.

Neither do you.

Then, reaching forward, you kiss him gently.

Then again, then again, then again, capturing his lips in soft, short kisses.

Your eyes have closed so you can’t see if his have, and your hands settle on his shoulders, and you almost don’t want to look, anyway, don’t want to know. You just kiss him over and over and over─

He pulls his head back, practically recoiling.

“What’re you fuckin’ playin’ at?”

Opening your eyes, you gaze at him, hate the confusion and disgust you find again.

“We never do this, do we,” you murmur softly. “Just kiss. I think I’d like to, while I have you here.”

He stares at you. Then his brow furrows.

“Did he teach you this technique?”

Now you stare at him. And then you smile.

“Do you want me to show you what he’s taught me?” Suddenly you grip the back of his neck and lean closer, murmuring into his ear, “Do you want me to show you the filthy things I do for him? What I say? How I moan for him?”

He’s pulling against the ties, and it gives you a twisted sense of satisfaction.

Maybe this is your new technique.

Using his imagination.

Licking your lips, you continue softly, “I wait for him, naked, my legs spread. Pussy dripping. I ache for his touch, his mouth, his tongue. He buys me lingerie. Delicate little things that he likes to rip off my body. And then I let him use me however he likes, and I love it.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he hisses, trying to put some distance between you both, but he can’t.

You angle your head even further towards him, lips caressing the shell of his ear. “Oh, do you not like hearing about this? Thinking about it? Picture it, Ghost, me spread on his bed, his cock inside me, me moaning his name─”

He bucks his thighs once more, forcing your head back so you have to look at him. Fire burns in his eyes, unfiltered, uncaring.

“Thanks for reminding me that you’re nothin’ but a whore. You fuckin’ deserve each other.”

You stare at him.

Your heart shatters.

Sadness slips from your bones… and it roils, contorts, burns itself into cold fury.

You lean closer.

“I think we do, Simon. Because I can touch his face. I caress it when he’s done fucking me, when his cum is leaking out of me I kiss every inch of it and I love him─”

It happens so quickly.

He grunts harshly as the cable ties securing his wrists snap and suddenly you’re off of his lap with a gasp, the ones securing his ankles also snapping, and then he’s surging forward and you’re surging backwards, almost stumbling over your feet until your back hits against the cold tiled wall, forcing another sharp gasp from you, and you’re trapped between it and him.

And he towers over you, staring down at you, chest nearly heaving as much as your own, and you hadn’t caught your expression in time.

Eyes wide, lips parted.

Startled.

Frightened.

You’d gone too far, and you know it.

Whatever happens next, you deserve it.

He’s still just staring at you, and you don’t dare look away from his gaze.

Waiting.

And then, finally, he speaks, voice so, so quiet.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

Swallowing, you inhale a slightly shaking breath.

“Simon, I─”

Gunshots break out in the distance, echoing.

Both your heads snap to the door.

Gunfire. Fighting. This you can handle.

It’s enough for you to pull yourself together.

Just about.

Looking at him, you inhale a quietly trembling breath. “Aren’t you a lucky boy.”

And then you’re darting past him, shoulder knocking into his arm, striding for the door, grabbing your vest and phone on the way.

And he lets you leave.

Your heart pounds as you unlock the door, yank it open and step out. The lights are flickering even more, parts of the corridor in darkness, but you stride down it without another thought, swiftly pulling your vest on and securing it.

Keep going, get out.

Think later.

Feel later.

You stride past doors and the place the mercs had been, cards scattered across the crate, the chairs on the floor. You can hear the gunfire coming from below, from the warehouse floor, but you carry on, shoving your phone back onto your belt.

Vitale will already be gone, his bodyguards, the nastiest of the fuckers here, will have got him out. They never come for you.

Turning a corner, you think of the nearest and quickest roads, which safehouse will be best, or wheth─

You sense him a second too late.

A hard body rams into you, shoving you back, a forearm against your throat pinning you against the wall.

“Where is he, Stray?” Soap hisses.

You sigh, lifting your chin to try and take in a full breath.

“Is that your gun or are you just happy to see me, gorgeous?”

He snorts, pressing his gun harder into your stomach. “Don’t flatter yourself. Where is he?”

“Room down at the end.”

“In one piece?”

You flash a smile. “If you’re quick.”

Pressing his lips together, he then releases you, stepping back.

“Funny.” His jaw moves as you rub at your neck. “Suppose I should be cordial and thank ye for the coordinates, saved us a lot of time.”

You drop your hand, inclining your head. “You’re welcome.”

“He’ll be fuckin’ thrilled ye─”

“Don’t tell him.” You’d snapped the order, eyes darting to lock with his.

He lifts both hands in a gesture of surrender, eyebrows high. “All right, all right. Jesus. Something wrong with ye. Both of ye.”

“Thanks, you’ve saved me a lifetime of therapy.”

Suddenly, a door slams open around the corner from the way you’d come, gunfire spilling into it.

You look at him, and he steps aside, jerking his head to the way he’d come. “Go.”

You treat him to a small, genuine smile.

“Thanks.”

He arches an eyebrow. “Suppose we’ll be seein’ ye again soon.”

“If you’re lucky.”

Striding past him, you break out into a jog, hearing him do the same as he heads towards the fighting.

Shoving a door open, you move down some backstairs as you press your lips together, pangs thudding through your ribcage.

Yeah, if you were lucky, and I wasn’t so fucking stupid, you’d never see me again.

─

Reblogs and comments make my day in a way I can’t describe.

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged or removed in my future works! (Note: I'll only tag if age is in your bio)

Masterlist

Tagged: @sistasarah-sallysaidso, @gifsbysimplysonia, @ryethebrokengae, @poohkie90

#ghost x reader #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost smut #simon riley smut #my writing #flamehairedwritings

86 notes · View notes