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thewulf · 15 days

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Bound by Shadows || Azriel

Summary: Request - I'm hoping you could write a fanfic where reader, Feyre's twin, who actually killed the wolf but let Feyre take the credit... and before she realizes what she's done Feyre is gone. She struggles with guilt and isolation in Velaris after the sisters transformation by the Cauldron.... Read Rest Here

A/N: OKAY I LOVE THIS. It got away from me a bit. I didn't realize how fun this world would be to dive into. Let me know your thoughts as always :)

Pairing: Azriel Shadowsinger x Female Reader (Feyre Archeron Twin Sister)

Word Count: 8.2k +

TW: General ACOTAR TW

Under the starlit skies of Velaris the City of Starlight pulses with a life of its own. Its vibrant lights reflecting off the river with laughter and music filling the air, breathing life into every cobblestone and corner. But for you the city’s brilliance only deepens the shadows that cling to your soul. Shadows that no light seems capable of dispelling.

You walked alone. Your steps aimless being driven by the restless guilt that gnaws incessantly at your conscience. Every whisper of the wind seems to accuse you, every glance from a passerby seems to pierce through the facade you barely maintain. The weight of the secret you harbor presses down on you with every step… the wolf, the woods, the dreadful slice of the arrow that was meant to protect Feyre not harm her. But Feyre stepped forward and shouldered the blame. She was taken from you in an instant and forced to face the horrors of the faerie lands. It was all to shield you her twin she thought of being too gentle, too fragile for the brutal truths of that world.

The transformation wrought by the Cauldron has only magnified everything. Every emotion, every fear, every shard of guilt. It was supposed to be a rebirth but for you it feels more like a slow descent into a nightmare from which you cannot awaken. The power that now courses through your veins feels like chains. A constant reminder of the price paid to the mother. Of the freedom you don’t believe you deserve.

As you wander through the bustling streets the sounds of celebration around you clash violently with the turmoil within. Families and lovers share warm, joyous moments. Their laughter echoing in the crisp night air while you drift among them. You were simply a specter unseen, untouched by the light of their joy. Your heart aches with a loneliness so profound it threatens to consume you whole. To reduce your existence to a mere shadow of regret and sorrow.

You find yourself on one of the many ornate bridges spanning the Sidra. A place you often found some sort of solace in. You leaned over the balustrade to gaze into the dark waters below. The reflection of the city’s lights dances across the surface, a stark contrast to the darkness that seems to stretch endlessly beneath. It is here in the quiet far enough away from the eyes of those who know you, those who worry over you, that your facade finally cracks.

Tears that were unbidden and unwelcome, spill over, tracing cold paths down your cheeks. You are tired. So incredibly tired of pretending. Of hiding the depth of your pain. You wish to scream so loud. To let out the anguish that fills you, but your voice is as lost as your soul feels in the face of your endless guilt. Instead, you just stare down at the dark waters with silent sobs wracking your body. It was better this way. You couldn’t let Feyre see you like this. She was finally so happy. So happy with her mate. Her Rhysand. You couldn’t threaten that happiness. You owed her so much more than that. You quite literally owed her your life. So, you would suck it up in solace. Cry it out on your own.

In the solitude of the night, you allowed yourself to feel your overwhelming emotions. To acknowledge the pain and the darkness. Little did you know you are not as alone as you believe. From the shadows an Illyrian figure watches you. His own heart heavy with unspoken secrets. Azriel was the spymaster of night court for a reason. He picked up on you disappearing for hours at a time when the others didn’t. He picked up on the fake smiles you threw everyone’s way. He seemed to pick up on it while the others didn’t… other than Feyre who seemed to watch you just as much as he did. He decided he would watch over you. For Feyre, his brothers mate. And for you. The woman who couldn’t seem to get used to being Fae as easily as your sisters did. The human turned Fae that consumed more of his thoughts than he cared to admit.

But for now, he waited behind his shadows. A silent guardian in the night recognizing that some battles must be faced alone before they can be shared.

You returned from the bustling markets of Velaris with arms laden with the myriad items Feyre requested. As you approach the townhouse the warm light from within spills out onto the cobblestones. It was a stark contrast to the dusk settling over the city. You pause at the door steeling yourself with a deep breath before stepping inside. Your smile as you hand the bags to Feyre doesn't quite reach your eyes. But she's too caught up in the moment to notice.

"Thank you so much," she says with a relief evident as she starts to unpack the food you’d volunteered to pick up for her. She pauses before she got too carried away giving you that look, the one you've come to know so well. The one that silently implores you to stay. To be a part of her world. "Will you stay for dinner? Everyone's coming over. Even Amren agreed to come. It would mean so much to me."

Her eyes are pleading and you know you can't refuse. Not when she's given up so much for you. With a nod you agree even as your stomach tightens at the thought of facing everyone. It was easy to fake your inner turmoil when it was only her or Rhys. But when it was the entirety of the Inner Circle it was harder to hide away. Inevitably someone would get you hooked in on a conversation. You haven't sat down with them since… well, since before the Cauldron. Since before everything changed. And that was almost an entire year ago now. You knew this request would come sooner or later. Though you were hoping for later you were going to suck it up for Feyre.

As the evening wears on the townhouse fills with laughter and conversation with everyone gathering in the familiar camaraderie that once felt like home to you. But now you feel like an outsider watching from the shadows even as you sit among them. At the dinner table you're terribly quiet. You were merely pushing food around your plate listening to the ebb and flow of conversations you can't force yourself to seem to join.

Feyre decided to sit beside you in hopes of calming your nerves. She notices. She notices the way your eyes were downturned. The way you occasionally nodded your head or smiled briefly pretending to be listening. The way you didn’t pick your fork up once. Her joy fades a little each time she glances your way. You didn’t notice the way her expression turned from mirth to concern. She squeezed your hand under the table in a silent message of solidarity and love. But even her touch can't pull you from the fog that's settled over you. You couldn’t help but wonder if this was your punishment? To live in a hazed state for thousands of years? Oh, how you wished to be a tiny little human again with the promise of dead after a hundred years or so.

Rhysand sat at the head of the table catches Feyre’s subtle, worried glances towards her twin. She meets his eyes with a silent conversation passing between them. She didn’t know what to do anymore. She needed help. He nods slightly. His expression was solemn, understanding the depth of her worry. His gaze then shifts to you filled with a quiet resolve. He knew you were struggling but didn’t pick up on just how much you were. You’d done a masterful job until tonight hiding it away.

Rhysand had felt the ripple of concern from Feyre long before she voiced it. Her distress over your withdrawal echoing within him. She watched you with a sister's keen eye and her silent worry bled into their shared bond. A testament to her deep care for you.

Azriel, Feyre is troubled by Y/N's state. As am I. Rhysand's thought reached out to his brother that was sitting next to you. There was a thread of urgency woven through the mental call. She's pulling away and Feyre feels it deeply. Keep an eye on her please? Help her if you can.

Azriel's presence in Rhysand's mind was immediate and calm. He was steady force amid the silent storm of concern. I'm already on it, Rhys. I’ve sensed it too, he assured. His mental voice as composed as the shadows he commanded. You don't need to worry. I’ve been watching over her not out of obligation, but because... because she matters to me. I’ll make sure she’s safe and supported.

Azriel’s vigilance came not from an order but from a place of quiet solidarity. His attunement to the nuances of emotion and the unspoken had already drawn him to your side. Rhysand’s request merely echoed the actions he’d already undertaken. His actions were born from a blend of duty and a deep, personal concern that Azriel rarely let show. In the face of Feyre's distress and now Rhysand’s request, he became a silent sentinel for you. He needed to ensure that you were not only protected but also truly seen and understood.

Dinner continues around you as you withdrew into yourself. The laughter a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within you. You're barely aware of Azriel's presence on your other side until you feel him beside you. His chair slightly closer than usual. His voice is soft, almost lost in the surrounding noise, as he leans in. "You don't have to be anything you're not, not here," he murmurs only for you to hear. "It’s okay to just be. To just breathe." His words meant to comfort felt like a lifeline in the sea of your tumultuous thoughts. You didn’t look at him for you were worried tears might spill over. But you nodded in acknowledgement letting him know that you heard him.

The evening slowly winds down and as the others linger over drinks and stories Azriel stays by your side. His presence a steady promise of understanding and patience. He doesn't push you to talk nor does he expect smiles. Instead, he offers the silent support you didn't know you needed, becoming a guardian not just of your safety, but of your peace.

Feyre watches this exchange with a glimmer of hope lighting up her worried features. Perhaps with Azriel's help you might find your way back to them. To yourself. Tonight, though, is just a small step in your journey back to yourself.

As everyone departs for the night you linger in the living room feigning interest in tidying up the small mess left behind. Feyre watches you for a moment with that same concern etching her features. But she decided against speaking, sensing your need for space.

Once the house is quiet you decide to step out for a walk under the night sky of Velaris. It had become your favorite routine. A routine that kept you grounded. A quick walk to your favorite spot on the Sidra. The city's soft lights reflect gently on the river casting dancing patterns on the water. It's beautiful yet the sight does little to ease the tightness in your chest.

You're so lost in your thoughts that you don't notice Azriel's approach until he's almost beside you. His presence is calming and somehow it doesn't startle you. Perhaps because in your heart you know he understands the need for quiet. His own demeanor is often just as reserved.

"Good evening," he says. His voice a low rumble. "Care for some company or would you prefer solitude tonight?"

You consider his offer for a moment. Company might not be so bad even though this was usually just a place for you. But it was Azriel. Someone who respects the silence as much as you do. "Company sounds nice, thank you," you reply with your voice softer than you intended.

Azriel nods falling into step beside you. As you walk his shadows play at your feet. It was a subtle yet comforting gesture. At one point one of his shadows curls around your hand. This small, almost imperceptible touch from his shadows offers a silent, comforting presence that envelops you in a sense of security. Neither of you speaks as you walk along the riverbank. The only sounds was the gentle lapping of water against the shore and the distant hum of the city. The silence between you is more than comfortable, filled with an unspoken understanding that words can sometimes be too cumbersome.

After a while though Azriel speaks up. He wasn’t looking at you but staring out at the water. "It's easy to feel lost in this city… even with its lights and crowds. Sometimes it feels like being surrounded by shadows even in the brightest part of the day."

You glance at him, surprised by the reflection of your own feelings in his words. "Yes, it does," you agree. You were feeling a weight lift slightly knowing that someone else understands.

He nods slightly at your words, "The shadows aren't all there is though. There are places, moments like these, that can offer some respite. And not all shadows are bad." He smiles looking down at the ones that clung to your feet.

His words make you look at him anew. You weren’t just seeing the spymaster or the warrior but someone who also seeks to find balance between the light and the dark. It makes you wonder if perhaps in this shared moment you might find a way to navigate your own shadows. They might not all be bad you had to agree with him.

You don't say much more as you walk back to the townhouse, but the silent agreement hangs between you, comforting and promising. Maybe, just maybe, you're not as alone as you thought.

The dawn is still a whisper of light across Velaris as you sit quietly by the Sidra. The gentle murmur of the river a soothing background to your thoughts that never seemed to shut the hell up. Lost in the reflections of the dancing water you hardly notice Azriel’s approach until he’s beside you. His presence as quiet as the morning. It was becoming a routine for him to join you on the river it seemed. Not that you minded. He might be the one person you’d happily accept to intrude on your solitude.

“You’re up early,” he remarks softly not wanting to startle you. His tone as gentle as the river’s flow.

You look up with a soft smile on your face. His familiar, reassuring presence is a comfort. “Just needed some air,” you reply with a yawn. Your voice carrying the weight of another sleepless night.

Azriel nods, understanding. He looks out over the water for a moment sharing the silence with you. Then, turning back to you, he suggests, “Come with me. I think I have something that might help clear your head. Help you to focus a bit.”

You’re hesitant. The idea of doing anything but sitting quietly feels daunting. But there’s something about his offer. The promise of relief, however temporary, that nudges you to your feet.

“It’s just training,” he adds. seeing your uncertainty. “Physical activity can be a good way to let out some of the emotions that are harder to express in words. We’ll take it slow. You set the pace.”

Trusting Azriel’s judgment, knowing he wouldn’t push you into something without reason, you stand and follow him towards the training grounds. The city is quietly waking around you and the walk is silent but comfortable. His presence a steady reassurance by your side. Something you were slowly growing to cherish.

As you reach the secluded training area the first rays of sunlight begin to warm the cool morning air. Azriel gives you a small, encouraging smile. “Let’s start simple. No pressure. Just you learning to trust your strength again.”

The training starts at an easy pace. Azriel guiding you through basic maneuvers. His patience was evident. But as your body begins to warm up with the activity and your focus sharpens on the movements. There was that sense of release you never knew could come. It was unfamiliar yet welcome that starts to take hold on you.

As the morning sun climbs higher the training session progresses under Azriel's watchful eye. You find yourself gradually syncing with the rhythm of the physical exertion. Each movement flushing out the restless energy that has been building up inside you. Azriel's guidance is firm yet encouraging and you start to feel a rare sense of accomplishment as you slowly master each new maneuver he throws at you.

But as the session intensifies Azriel begins to push you harder, increasing the pace and complexity of the drills. His softness changed into some else. You knew he was only pushing you to help but it was starting to become a little too much. You’d only been Fae for a year to his centuries. "Come on, Y/N, focus. You can handle this," he urges. Throwing a series of rapid, controlled strikes that you're meant to block and counter.

For a moment you rise to the challenge your movements sharp and sure. Yet the physical strain is relentless. All too soon it starts to mirror the inner struggled you've been trying to manage. The boundaries between physical exertion and emotional pain blur… each block and dodge feeling more like a fight against your inner demons rather than a simple training exercise.

Suddenly, one of Azriel's strikes comes a little too close, a little too fast. It isn't meant to hit you and it doesn't but the rush of air as it passes by your face triggers something within you. Panic seizes your chest and the walls you've been holding up begin to crumble. Your movements falter. Your hands drop to your sides rapidly as your breath catches in your throat.

You step back abruptly with short, ragged breaths. Azriel stops immediately, concern replacing the intensity in his eyes. "Hey, are you okay?" he asks all too softly this time. He watched with concern as you struggled to compose yourself.

You nod rapidly trying to blink back the tears that want to rush out. “I’m fine. Just tired.” You murmur. It didn’t even sound believable to you. You turned you back to him so he wouldn’t see the distraught look on your face.

He steps forward with a sadness etched deeply on his features. "It's more than just tiredness, isn't it?" he asks gently as he reached out but stopped short, giving you space yet showing his readiness to support.

You shake your head again trying to compose yourself. Willing yourself to rebuild the barriers crumbling around you. "I'm fine, really, just got a little carried away," you offer weakly with your back still turned, fearing that facing him might reveal too much.

But Azriel doesn’t retreat. Instead, his shadows do what he physically refrains from—they reach out for you. You feel a cool, soothing sensation as one shadow gently curls around your arm, not binding but comforting. It was like a silent message of empathy and support. The unexpected kindness, the soft touch of darkness that doesn’t demand or judge, only seeks to comfort. But it undoes you completely.

Your defenses shatter at the tender contact. Tears finally spilling over as you turn back to face him. The floodgates opened by the gentle brush of his shadow. "I'm not fine," you admit, your voice choked with emotion. "It's all just... it's too much sometimes. I feel like I'm drowning in what I had to do. In what Feyre had to endure because of me. All because of me."

Azriel listens with his gaze never wavering. His eyes were filled with compassion and a profound understanding. His shadow retracts slightly giving you a moment, respecting your space while keeping the silent promise of his presence.

He nods his head willing you to continue. "Let it out, Y/N. You don't have to carry this alone," he says quietly finding the courage to step closer now. He opened his arms to you in an offer of comfort that you no longer have the strength to refuse.

As you step into his embrace, allowing yourself to be held, the warmth of his body contrasts with the cool touch of his shadows creating a cocoon of safety around you. "I was the one who killed the wolf that started this whole mess," you confess through sobs. Your words muffled against his chest. "Feyre took the blame to protect me... because she thought I couldn't handle the consequences."

“It’s okay,” he whispers. His voice close to your ear. “You were never meant to carry this alone.” He pauses. His hand gently lifting your chin so you can look at him. “Feyre’s path was her own. Fate had a hand in it. She was meant to meet Rhysand through Tamlin. To find her way to the Night Court. It couldn’t have been you, Y/N. Your path is different and it’s still unfolding.”

You shake your head feeling the weight of it all. “But-“

Azriel’s hold tightens reassuringly. His wings stretched around you before he stops you. “She did what she believed was right, out of love. And now you need to allow yourself to be loved and supported, too. Let your family be here for you. Let me be here for you.” he pleads, his tone imbued with a promise. In the safety of Azriel’s wings with the gentle embrace of his shadows, you feel a lightness you haven’t felt in a long time.

Beneath the shelter of his wings Azriel holds you close feeling the profound shift within as your eyes meet. In that moment a golden thread previously unseen but always present tightens, binding your soul to his. The mating bond ignites with a radiant force, undeniable and transformative.

This newfound connection stirs a deep protectiveness in Azriel, an urge to cherish and guard you that feels both ancient and freshly awakened. Love pulses through this bond unspoken yet palpable aligning his heartbeat with yours. He experiences a profound sense of belonging, understanding now that every moment with you, every shared concern, was leading to this revelation.

With the emergence of the bond, Azriel, who often cloaked himself in mystery, finds in you a clarity that illuminates his existence. This bond does not overwhelm; instead, it completes him, brightening his path forward. The world around him expands promising a journey not walked alone but side by side, in step with each breath.

Yet, the magnitude of this discovery brings a mix of elation and a daunting sense of responsibility. You are vulnerable, your soul laid bare before him, and he is cautious not to burden you further. Internally, Azriel grapples with the desire to declare the bond versus the need to provide you with stability and support without the shock of this revelation.

He resolves to keep this monumental discovery to himself for now, focusing on being your steadfast support. His shadows as a subtle extension of his will, curl gently around you both. They offered a protection and comfort without overwhelming you with the truth.

Azriel knows he must seek Rhysand’s counsel to navigate the complexities of this bond with sensitivity and respect for your emotions. As he holds you he silently vows to take this journey at a pace that honors both your readiness and the bond’s potential. Wrapped in his embrace, Azriel stands as your guardian bonded by fate yet guided by a deep respect for the journey your heart needs to undertake.

"You've been strong today," Azriel whispers into your hair as he senses your grip tighten. "Let's head back home. You need rest." His voice is as soothing as the twilight and his offer is tender, without any urgency that might hint at the truth simmering beneath his calm exterior.

The walk back from the training grounds is quiet, filled with a companionable silence that speaks of shared struggles and mutual care. As Azriel guides you to Feyre's studio, where she immerses herself in swathes of color and light, his touch lingers reassuringly on your arm. It's an affirmation of his presence, his support, his unspoken pledge to be there for you, come what may.

You offer him a soft smile. One that acknowledges the solace his presence brings even though you were still oblivious to the tectonic shift in his inner landscape. Azriel returns your smile with a quiet intensity, a vow that when the time comes for the bond to reveal itself to you he'll be there, just as he is now—steadfast, protective, and utterly devoted.

A subtle shift in Azriel’s demeanor as he prepares to leave catches Feyre's sharp eye. There's a fleeting tension, a trace of something potent and profound flickering in the depths of his usually inscrutable eyes. It's a glimpse of vulnerability. An undercurrent of panic that he's quick to disguise but not before Feyre takes note. Something significant has unsettled the shadowsinger and it likely had to do with you.

With a nod that holds more gravity than usual Azriel turns to go. His steps are measured but the urgency in his exit is apparent to anyone who knows him well. Once he steps beyond the view of the townhouse his wings unfurl, a dark silhouette against the Velaris skyline. He takes to the air with a speed driven by the need for counsel. For understanding the newly realized bond weighing on him with a mix of awe and anxiety.

He lands at the House of Wind with an intensity that is uncharacteristic for him. His feet touching down on the stone with a thud. There's no time for hesitation as he makes his way to where he knows he'll find Rhysand, perhaps Cassian too. The door to the study bursts open under his force and he stands there as a figure riddled with the shock of his own heart's awakening.

Inside the study, Rhysand and Cassian pause mid-conversation as the unexpected clamor announces Azriel's approach. Concern flickers over their faces. A stark, thunderous arrival is not Azriel's way.

"Are you alright, Az?" Cassian is the first to react. His voice tinged with concern as he notes Azriel's agitated state.

Azriel pauses before catching his breath. His demeanor one of a man grappling with overwhelming news. "It's the mating bond," he manages to say with his voice tight of emotion. "With Y/N—it just... it just snapped into place."

Rhysand rises from his chair. His expression shifting to one of understanding as he processes Azriel's words. The air in the room thickens with the significance of his declaration and there's a moment of collective stillness as they all absorb the meaning.

Cassian’s previous levity fades into a solemn gravity, reflecting the seriousness of Azriel's revelation. "That’s... big news, Az. How are you feeling about this?" he asks as he stepped closer in caution.

Rhysand, maintaining his composure, offers a supportive nod. "This is a momentous time, Azriel. We’re here for you, whatever you need," he assures him embodying the role of the leader who understands the profound implications of such a bond.

Azriel exhales deeply the reality of the situation settling in. "It's overwhelming," he concedes. A frown creasing his brow. "I mean, I hoped, maybe even wished for it. But now that it’s here, it feels... heavy." He looks up. His expression serious. "She’s still healing. I need to be careful. Need to make sure this doesn’t overwhelm her."

Rhysand gives a supportive nod. "Just keep being there for her, Az. You’ve always managed to support her without pushing. This doesn’t change your approach just your understanding of the connection."

Cassian smirks, pushing off from the table and clapping Azriel on the back with a bit more force than necessary. "Look at you all serious and broody—more than usual, I mean. Come on, Az, you know you're probably the only one who can handle this with the perfect blend of mystery. Besides," he adds with a wry grin, "have you seen the way she looks at you when you're not looking? That’s not just gratitude my friend. It’s like she’s hit the jackpot and she doesn’t even know it yet."

Azriel can’t help but crack a small smile despite the turmoil inside. "Thanks, Cass. I just don’t want to mess this up."

"Don’t worry so much, brother," Cassian chuckles, his tone light but earnest. "You’re doing fine. Plus, if you start floating around like a lovestruck bat, I’ll be here to pull you back down."

Rhysand laughs softly before shaking his head at the general. "He’s right, though. Take it step by step, Azriel. Let her come to terms with her own feelings. When she’s ready it’ll be right for both of you."

Feeling somewhat lighter Azriel nods appreciatively at his brothers. "Step by step," he repeats, firming his resolve. With a final nod he steps back into the night bolstered by the mix of Cassian’s humor and Rhysand’s leadership. He was ready to face the future with a heart full of hope and a mind cautious of the delicate balance he needs to maintain.

Back in the townhouse Feyre greets you with that mischievous grin that heralds some sisterly teasing. She sets her paintbrush down before wiping her hands on a cloth as her eyes sparkle with playful curiosity. "So, what did you do to him?" she teases with a smirk on her face.

You frown genuinely puzzled by her question. "What? Nothing, I... we were just training, then he said he had to go." Your voice trails off mirroring your confusion over Azriel's sudden change in demeanor.

Feyre chuckles, shaking her head as she picks up her brush again. "That man is always so mysterious. But don't worry it's probably just Azriel things. Or maybe, just maybe, you're the perfect distraction for our dear spymaster."

"What are you on about?" you ask while feeling a mix of amusement and bewilderment at her jest.

"Oh, please!" Feyre laughs, her brush dancing over the canvas. "He looks at you like every moment you spend together is something precious. Like you're a rare painting he can't quite believe he's stumbled upon."

"You're imagining things," you dismiss her. Shaking your head with a smile. "Azriel is just being kind. He's like that with everyone."

Feyre gives you a knowing look. Her smirk broadening. "Sure, he’s kind to everyone, but with you it’s different. He doesn’t look at anyone else quite like he looks at you. Like you’ve cast a spell on him and he’s trying to figure out how to live with the enchantment."

Her words make you pause. The playful insinuation tugging at the edges of your thoughts. Despite your dismissal Feyre’s observation lingers. A teasing possibility that maybe there's a hint of truth in her playful assertions. The room fills with your laughter, a sound that masks the flutter of curiosity her words have sparked.

Unbeknownst to you while you puzzle over Azriel's sudden departure, Feyre's mind is swiftly connecting with Rhysand's. A silent inquiry flits through their bond: Something's up with Azriel, he seemed... off. Did I miss something?

Rhysand's mental response comes with a chuckle that Feyre can almost hear: He’s fine, love. Just had a bit of a revelation. He’ll share when he's ready.

A spark of mischief lights up Feyre’s eyes as understanding dawns on her. Her lips curve into a sly, knowing grin. But she carefully masks any hint of her newfound knowledge from you. "You know, I think we deserve some fun today. Just us twins. You’ve been pushing hard with all that training and brooding," she suggests. Her voice bubbling with an excitement that piques your curiosity.

"Really? What did you have in mind?" you ask. Your earlier confusion over Azriel's behavior giving way to intrigue at Feyre's sudden enthusiasm.

"Oh, just a day for us to unwind and maybe get into a little mischief," Feyre replies, winking. "We can leave the mysteries of shadowy spymasters behind and focus on spoiling ourselves."

You laugh while nodding in agreement, relieved to set aside the morning's puzzles. "That sounds perfect, actually."

As the day unfolds with Feyre leading the way with her occasional secretive smiles and the warmth of her company envelop you, making you feel cherished and a part of something larger than just sisterly bonding. Every now and then she throws you a look filled with unspoken laughter as if she's in on a joke that’s yet to be told adding an intriguing layer to your day out.

"Enjoy today," Feyre says at one point. Her grin infectious. "Because who knows? Tomorrow you might find yourself swept off your feet in ways you never expected." Her words are light, but they dance with implication, leaving you wondering about the possibilities that tomorrow might bring.

As the days unfold since your training session you begin to notice an unusual shift in Azriel's behavior when he's around you. Always the quiet, stoic presence, he now seems to carry an air of nervousness that is both surprising and endearing. It's as if he's forgotten how to be around you. His typically smooth demeanor replaced with an awkwardness that sends a ripple of amusement throughout your days.

During your daily routines, whether you're practicing combat skills or just strolling through the lush gardens of the Night Court, Azriel is consistently by your side. Yet, his typical quiet confidence seems to falter. Today when he hands you a training sword his fingers not only linger but also tremble slightly against yours. The contact is brief but the moment his skin brushes against yours a visible blush creeps up his neck coloring his cheeks in a rare show of discomposure.

"Sorry," he stutters. Quickly retracting his hand as if scorched by the brief contact. He averts his gaze making sure to look anywhere but at you. His discomfort palpable in the tight set of his shoulders.

You can't help but tilt your head eyeing him with a mixture of concern and curiosity. "Azriel, are you alright?" you ask with a hint of a smile on your lips. Your voice is soft though hoping to ease some of his evident tension. The gardens around you bloom vibrantly. A stark contrast to Azriel’s suddenly flustered state.

He clears his throat attempting to regain some of his usual composure. "Yes, I'm... fine," he manages. His voice a notch higher than usual. He meets your gaze again holding it for a moment longer than he intends. The intensity of his stare both confusing and thrilling.

Just then as if to spite Azriel, Cassian strolls by and upon noticing Azriel's flushed face and your puzzled expression he can't help but let out a snicker. "Lost your cool, Shadowsinger?" he teases, winking at you before continuing on his way with a chuckle. "You’re usually smoother than this, brother!"

Azriel shoots Cassian a brief glare but there's a resigned humor in his eyes that suggests he knows just how out of character he must seem. As Cassian’s laughter fades into the distance Azriel finally turns back to you attempting a sheepish smile.

"It seems I'm a bit out of sorts today," he admits. His voice finally steadying. "Nothing to worry about, really."

Watching Azriel grapple with this uncharacteristic awkwardness only endears him more to you. There’s a sweetness in his struggle. A reminder that beneath the composed façade of the Night Court’s spymaster lies a depth of emotion rarely seen but profoundly felt.

On a tranquil afternoon in the Night Court, you find yourself relaxing in one of the quieter gardens alongside Feyre, Rhys, and Azriel. The air is filled with gentle laughter and the soft rustling of leaves. Cassian and Nesta are notably absent, presumably because Cassian has taken it upon himself to "help" Nesta with some errands—a pursuit that everyone knows often ends in playful bickering and affectionate banter.

Elain has also opted for a day out with Lucien exploring new botanical gardens on the outskirts of the city. Her passion for plants and Lucien's support in her endeavors showcases the growing bond between them.

The conversation flows easily until Rhys, with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes, steers it towards Azriel’s recent scouting mission. "Azriel here stumbled upon something quite intriguing recently, didn’t you?" he teases while watching Azriel closely.

Caught off-guard Azriel’s response is delayed, his eyes widening slightly as if Rhys had tread into forbidden territory. "It was nothing out of the ordinary," he finally mutters. Though his voice holds a trace of unease.

Feyre jumps into the fray. Her tone laced with playful curiosity. "Oh, but I heard it was quite the discovery. Rare and fascinating… something that might deeply engage a man’s interest."

You laugh completely oblivious to the underlying meaning and look at Azriel with raised eyebrows. "What was it, Az? Some kind of hidden gem or a lost artifact?"

There’s a brief moment where Azriel’s composure falters under your direct gaze, his eyes meeting yours before quickly glancing away. He recovers quickly, however, a slight flush on his cheeks. "Yes, something like that," he agrees, his voice steadying. "A discovery that could indeed change one’s perspective for a lifetime."

Rhys doesn't miss a beat adding with a light chuckle, "Let’s hope it’s not kept secret too long. Such treasures are better when shared, right?"

Feyre nods enthusiastically. Her eyes dancing with amusement. "Especially when they bring people closer together, right, Az?"

Azriel meets Feyre’s gaze. His expression settling into a subtle smile that hints at his deep thoughts. “Indeed,” he replies quietly, the single word rich with unspoken meaning, affirming the sentiment with his usual succinct eloquence.

As the conversation moves on the jokes and laughter continue, your heart warmed by the newfound perspective you found with them. Azriel watches you with a gentle, albeit slightly wistful smile. He noticed how much more you're around, how your laughter fills the air more often, and how your vibrant personality begins to shine through once more. His heart fills with a mixture of relief and deep affection, seeing the signs of your healing. In these moments he cherishes the progress you've made feeling hopeful about the future. He was ready to support you every step of the way as the true nature of his discovery waits to be shared with you.

As the weeks blend into months, the connection between you and Azriel deepens. It was nurtured by shared moments and his unwavering support. On a crisp evening as the sun begins its descent painting the sky with strokes of pink and gold, Azriel brings you to a secluded hilltop that overlooks Velaris. This spot was known only to him and offers a panoramic view of the city as it starts to twinkle with the first lights of evening, the natural grassy surface underfoot soft and inviting.

Standing close by his presence was both comforting and solid, Azriel shares a story, his voice low and warm, recounting a humorous mishap from his early days as a spymaster. The tale is endearing, revealing a less guarded side of him and laughter bubbles up freely from your throat.

As your laughter transitions into a soft chuckle, you turn to face him. The last rays of the sunset bathe Azriel in a warm, golden light that illuminates his features, casting a glow that outlines him like an ethereal halo. His eyes that were filled with affection and a hint of amusement, meet yours. In that instant something profound shifts within you.

It feels as if a key has turned, unlocking something wondrous and overwhelming. The mating bond, which has been delicately weaving its way through each of your interactions, now clicks into place with perfect clarity. The sensation is electrifying yet profoundly comforting. Resonating through your very being.

Your breath catches and your heart races—not just from the shock of the realization but from the undeniable rightness that surges through you. Azriel, noticing the subtle transformation in your expression halts his story. A flicker of concern crossing his face.

"Are you okay?" he asks with his voice tinged with worry. The humor from his story now replaced by attentive care.

A mix of joy and amazement washes over you as you feel a comforting swirl of his shadows around your feet. Like curious creatures affirming this new connection. "Azriel, I think... I think the mating bond just…," you trailed off unsure how to continue. Your voice was filled with awe. The realization brings a new depth to your smile as you meet his gaze which is now shimmering with a mixture of relief and happiness.

"That's what I've been feeling," Azriel breathes out, a tender smile spreading across his face as he steps closer. He reaches out gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "I've been waiting, hoping you would feel it too when the time was right."

Taking his hand, you feel a warmth that goes beyond physical touch. A connection that seeps into the depths of your soul. "I’m glad it’s you," you say quietly, sincerely, the words flowing easily.

Azriel’s other hand comes up to gently cup your cheek. His touch feather light. "And I’m honored it’s you," he responds. His gaze locked with yours. The world around you—the city lights, the soft whisper of the evening breeze—fades into a gentle backdrop to the profound connection you share.

In this moment with Azriel’s shadows dancing around, playful, and protective, you feel a sense of completeness. A promise of endless possibilities. Together, bonded not just by fate but by a mutual understanding you know that whatever the future holds you'll get to navigate it side by side.

As the realization of the mating bond settles between you, Azriel's shadows seem to take on a life of their own. They swirled around you both with a newfound enthusiasm. The delicate tendrils of darkness weave around your legs and occasionally brush against your hands as if testing and reinforcing the connection that has just been acknowledged.

Azriel watches with a tender amusement as his shadows interact with you, their movements more animated than usual. "They seem to have taken quite a liking to you," he comments. His voice warm with affection and a hint of pride. "They're not usually this... attentive."

As the shadows continue their gentle dance around you, one particularly daring tendril snakes up your arm, its touch lighter than a feather. You can't help but laugh. The sound echoing softly in the quiet of the evening. With a delighted grin you reach out to trace the path of the shadow with your fingertips, marveling at the cool, tingling sensation it leaves on your skin.

Azriel continues watching with an affectionate roll of his eyes accompanying his half-smirk. "You're going to spoil them," he teases. His tone light but full of warmth.

Encouraged by your positive reaction another shadow playfully darts forward and mimics the motion of a gentle kiss on your cheek. You giggle with joy, your hand touching the spot in mock surprise and then you're both laughing. A shared moment of joy and wonder at the peculiar yet endearing behavior of the shadows.

Azriel shakes his head, but his eyes shine with amusement. "Now you've done it. They're going to expect this king of attention all the time," he jokes as the shadows around him swirled in what you swear could be shadowy laughter.

"You know, I think I'm okay with that," you respond still smiling as you watch the shadows retreat slightly, as if bashful from the attention. "They're quite charming. Just like someone else I know." You glance up at Azriel with a playful smirk. Enjoying the light flush that colors his cheeks at the compliment.

The shadows, seemingly pleased with their role in this light-hearted exchange, settle more calmly around you both like a contented sigh after a bout of laughter. The protective circle they form feels like a gentle embrace not just from Azriel but from all parts of him.

As the laughter fades Azriel's expression turns tender, his gaze softening as he searches your face looking for any sign of unease. "But seriously," he says with his voice low and earnest, "are you really okay?" His concern is palpable. The bond between you making every emotion, every nuance of feeling that much more intense and meaningful.

You meet his gaze feeling a surge of warmth from his sincere concern. Smiling gently, you nod, the tranquility of the moment filling you with a profound sense of peace. "I really am okay. For the first time in a long time," you admit. Your voice steady and sure. The confession feels like a significant acknowledgment of the journey you've been on and the role Azriel, and his shadows, have played in it.

Azriel's smile in response is radiant. A look of relief and happiness that brightens his entire demeanor. "That's all I’ve ever wanted to hear," he murmurs. His voice soft with emotion. He stands closer, his hand gently squeezing yours. "Come on, love," he whispers with a twinkle in his eyes. "Let's fly home."

With a graceful motion Azriel unfurls his expansive wings, the dark feathers shimmering under the starlight. The sight never fails to take your breath away. He wraps an arm securely around your waist, his touch reassuring. "Ready?" he asks. His voice a low rumble filled with excitement and anticipation.

With a nod you cling to him, feeling the rush of air as he leaps into the sky. Velaris unfolds below you. It was a gorgeous tapestry of lights and shadows. The wind was cool and exhilarating against your face. Flying with Azriel, held close against his chest, the city sprawling beneath you is an experience that feels as if it straddles the line between dream and reality.

The flight is swift and smooth. The quiet only broken by the rushing wind and the steady beat of Azriel's powerful wings. The world seems to shrink away, leaving only the two of you soaring through the night sky. As the House of Wind comes into view Azriel’s descent is gentle, a reminder of his skill and care for you.

You land softly on the balcony, the cool night breeze playing around you, still wrapped in the warmth of his embrace. Just as you touch down the laughter and lively banter of the Inner Circle reach your ears from inside.

As you and Azriel step through the grand doors of the House of Wind the lively atmosphere of the Inner Circle greets you. Cassian's booming voice fills the foyer as he spots you descending from the balcony. "Finally decided to join us, huh? Or were you two plotting to take over Velaris with your love-struck scheming?" he teases, winking not so conspicuously.

Rhysand joins in with a sly grin. His eyes twinkling with mischief. "I think they were busy weaving shadows and starlight. Look how they landed, like a pair of night-blooming flowers." His voice was laden with humor and draws a round of chuckles from around the room.

Feyre, Nesta, and Elain watch from the side, their expressions varying degrees of amusement and affection. Feyre's eyes meet yours and she gives you an approving nod. Her smile suggesting she understands more than she lets on. Nesta’s smirk is more enigmatic but supportive while Elain’s gentle gaze is filled with romantic delight at the scene unfolding before her.

Amid the teasing Azriel keeps you close, his arm remaining protectively around your waist. The warmth of his embrace reassures you. His presence a calming force against the good-natured ribbing. "Ignore them," he murmurs softly against your ear, just loud enough for you to hear over the laughter. His voice is rich with affection and a hint of playfulness that only you are privy to.

"You make it sound so easy," you whisper back, unable to suppress a smile feeling buoyed by the love filling the room.

As the evening progresses the light banter continues, with everyone occasionally casting teasing glances your way, making playful comments about the inseparable duo you and Azriel have become. Despite the jests there’s an underlying current of genuine happiness for you both. A celebration of the deepening bond that everyone seems to recognize and respect.

The night unfolds with shared stories, laughter, and an occasional clinking of glasses in toasts, not just to the night but to new beginnings and magical connections. As you stand by Azriel’s side, surrounded by friends who are more like family. You feel a profound sense of belonging and happiness. Here in the heart of the Night Court, under the watchful eyes of the stars and the soft glow of the city, you are home—not just in place, but in heart, bound by love, laughter, and the eternal dance of shadows and light.

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unmarlou · 29 days

Text

work song.

pairings. percy jackson x fem!reader.

summary. not even tartarus could keep percy from coming home to you.

lacy says. don’t say anything about me using the same middle pic as my last fic. pls.

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it was the longest twelve minutes of percy’s life.

his eyes were sown shut, fearing if he opened them it would all go wrong somehow. percy was always one to think he would screw everything up.

his fingers were blistered so badly he thought there wasn’t a single part of normal skin left, but nevertheless he pressed them against the doors of the death with every bit of strength he could muster. which wasn’t a lot. in the moment of heat he heard the one thing he craved most in the world, your voice.

come back to me, percy. come home.

he was so sure it was all in his head but it didn’t even matter. sweat was beading down his whole body while holding a lunge at the right side door. he held his eyes so tight he began to see stars - or was he just going to pass out?

no. no he couldn’t. he would not.

annabeth’s screams beside him were drowning out. he searched his mind for anything to cling to, to keep him grounded, to keep him going.

he went back to the same memory he replayed every morning and every night and most afternoons- the first time he’d ever seen you. he could see every detail, from the small beads of sweat on your neck from a humid new york summer to the bat of your eye to the ever-so-small wrinkle of your orange shirt. the way you had glanced at him, passively. twelve-year-old-percy’s thoughts came flooding back, she’ll probably never look at me again.

he was so close to throwing up he was thinking of ways to turn his head so he wouldn’t get any on annabeth, while remaining in his position. he grunted viscerally, his arms and legs burning and shaking with work.

you’ve been so brave. you’re so close, percy.

he threw his head back at your voice. he heaved the greatest sigh of relief, which he probably couldn’t afford but truly couldn’t help - this was everything he’d ever wanted to hear, especially from you. the air was so thick and hot it didn’t bring anything other than more pain, scorching his lungs.

in a feeble attempt at aid, he brought himself to a moment two summers ago. he could almost feel the tuft of the beach towel below his arms. yours and his laughter radiated in his ears; he couldn’t remember what was so funny, he guessed even then you two weren’t really sure. it was just the both of you on the long island sound, unable to catch your breaths. you’d grabbed his arm in the midst, holding on with shut eyes and a heaving chest. percy kept talking, adding layers to the joke, in hopes you’d keep laughing and never let go. he knew even the birds could never sing something so sweet.

that horrible song about piña colada’s and getting caught in the rain had started again for the third time. he’d never be able to go to a margaritaville after this. but this also meant they weren’t too far now.

his head came to rest against his arm searching for comfort that couldn’t be found. his body battled between restlessness and exhaustion. all he wanted was to get out of this damn place whilst also wanting to collapse right here and accept a heroes fate.

annabeth’s hand grazed his shoulder and he lifted his head to meet her. her eyes bore into what was left of his soul, her jaw clenched, and brows firmly knit- she’d never looked so serious, “we’ve made it this far, no giving up.” her expression softened ever so slightly at percy’s anguish, “she’s counting on you. no giving up.”

you were counting on him. of course this was a fact he’d known all this time, but when thinking about you down in the pit of hell, he’d only ever thought about collapsing in your arms like a little boy that’d experienced a burnt tongue or scrapped knee for the first time, the worst pain he’d known so far. but hearing the words aloud was promoting this revelation to his forefront.

you were counting on him. just as you had when on that boat, on that island, the middle of the sea to retrieve that gilded ram fleece and take you home. just as you had fighting back to back in that open field as enemies poured in from zeus’ fist, some closing a circle around you two, the thought of a vulnerable backside never crossing either of your minds, in the acts of protecting your home. just as you had on a deserted manhattan, never once sharing your true worries about losing him because you held faith he’d prevail, and when he did, those final moments on mount olympus where he denied sovereignty because you were counting on him to return home with you.

you were counting on him, like you had been this entire year. on a relentless search to find your stolen heart, one finally yours, and bring him home.

there were sudden surges of anger running through his veins at the realization that absolutely everything had been striped from him- he was literally a ghost of his former self just a few seconds ago. he would see you again, so help him gods. and he would take revenge on everyone and everything that separated him from you.

“i will kill gaea,” he muttered. “i will tear her apart with my bare hands.”

with the elevator shaking like the power of the four corners of the earth was working against it, and it was, every feeling he had, both emotional and physical, was bounding to send percy into overdrive.

what came next was simultaneously the fastest and slowest sequence of events he’d ever experienced. he could see every still shot as it happened: the doors shuddered open and almost took his fingers with it, not even gaining his bearings, dusty ancient air smacked him in the face with unexpected velocity, quickly he saw a shot of leo, gods he’d never been so happy to see leo, then the floor became closer, closer, closer, he knew what was coming and the last thing he could tell himself was, think of her, her, her.

“are you even listening to me?”

he was, he promised he was, but your cheek was glistening in the silver light and your arm was just barley grazing his and your scent mixed with the saltwater, not your perfume, just you, was enough to make him lose track of everything.

“yeano.”

you rolled your eyes, the playful way with a ghostly smile on your lips, the way you always did when he said something kind of stupid, and he thanked the gods he frequently said something kind of stupid.

sitting up in the rafters of the argo ll, wind brushed past attempting to take your clothes with it. he was trying his absolute best to contain himself, to maintain an ounce of normalcy in an otherwise very opposite setting. but he’d be lying right through his teeth if he said he didn’t want to be in your back pocket right now, and stay there forever.

“i’ll just never tell you how much i miss you ever again, i guess.” you faux hurt and he knew it.

finding it in himself to touch you without going crazy, he brought you to the crevice between his chest and arm, “i missed you, too. maybe even more.” saying the last part in a hush, fearing his own feelings.

you were recounting the last eight months, telling him about your nonstop search, never deviating from the task, and in the same vein, conveying just how happy you were to be with him, finally. even if it was bittersweet.

your hand played with his, an action that sent tingles from his back down his arms, as your back rested against his side. the silence was enough for him, perfect even. with newly regained memories still weaving their way through his mind, he knew this was a position you two had sat in time and time before, but it didn’t fail to make his heart hammer.

the feeling of your warmth on his was almost nostalgic in a way, like he knew it, he knew he knew it, but it was so distant yet so comforting he felt like it must’ve been from some dream.

“we’ll be back home before you know it. together.”

and then, the scene switched.

it was hot. and humid. he was eternally grateful for the umbrella overhead, shading the table from the unruly italian sun. you were seated opposite him, but you certainly weren’t looking at him. your gaze was far and away, unfixed and slightly unnerving in his opinion.

he kept his fingers under yours regardless, running his thumb over them with ease. the newly empty chair beside you both was borderline antagonizing, he knew, but before he could pick your brain, you confided.

“i have a bad feeling, percy.”

your croak with the use of his name made blood run cold under burnt skin. you didn’t use perseus, but still, you rarely ever said it unless it was serious, an indication to him of severity.

you weren’t nearly this down seeing annabeth off, of course you were upset but this change to anxiety was after her leaving. “i’m not too thrilled about it either but, she’ll be okay. she-”

the shaking of your head cut him off. you still weren’t looking at him, which added to his unease. he tilted slightly in hopes of catching your eyes, but was unsuccessful. he continued his thumb stroke, subliminally signaling he was here.

he watched your lips contort, trying to find the words to fit. selfish as it was in the moment, he thought he could lean over and kiss you, take away any worry and just be one.

your sigh was strenuous, “something bad is going to happen, i don’t know. i just…”

you finally met him back at the small table in the middle of rome. gods you were so pretty. you sat just outside the umbrella, casting half of yourself in bronze, he was amazed how unaware you were, of your beauty in moments like these. he had to kick himself in the leg to stop from blurting it out.

connecting your fingers with his, a search for comfort despite the sweltering heat making it near to impossible, you squeezed, “i just don’t want to lose you again.”

he reciprocated, feeling confident in his answer, “you won’t.”

and then, the scene switched.

your shrill scream was enough to make the angels cry. to make him cry.

in the seconds it took for you to turn around and try to assist frank, leo, and jason, percy had dove over the edge to catch a falling annabeth. although there was absolutely no hesitation on his part, in no world was he going to leave his best friend to fall, he felt an all consuming sickness at the impending outcome.

there must’ve been words shouted and exchanged all around but he couldn’t hear them over the roaring in his ears, all of his strength being put to use in opposite directions. he could see nico, hazel, and most importantly - maybe most disheartening - you, leaning over the edge.

his mind was working a mile a second, thoughts blaring all around despite his inability to really focus on them. he knew what he needed to get out first and foremost, “the other side, nico. we’ll meet you there. understand?”

his arm was shaking so violently and the weight on his other was becoming unbearable. he didn’t want to have more time to think this situation over, “lead them there! promise me!”

“i-i will.”

that was all he needed from him. his vision now settling on you. if you’d told him a goddess had come down to see him off, he would’ve believed you. his thoughts suddenly cleared, if only for a second.

light poured in from the hole above, illuminating your silhouette. you’d never looked so beautiful. percy felt such shame he couldn’t tell you that. from the look on your face, words weren’t really necessary. you understood, he knew you did. he knew you knew he needed to do this. he felt maybe there was even some part of you that encouraged him to, for annabeth was your best friend too, and you both knew if the fates had it be percy who turned around, you would’ve dove after her all the same.

“come back to me.”

“always.”

and as he let his fingers slip, falling into the chasm, all he could do was stare up at your fading imagine, because if there was a last thing he was to see, he needed it to be you.

the ground was dirty.

he could taste it. not that he was one to go around tasting floors but he could tell it was old and dirty. the stench of stale air was an unwelcome accompaniment. his body was throbbing, a constant pulse from the top of his head to his feet, every time feeling like a new stab wound.

his hearing was muffled, just making out a commotion of sorts, seemingly far away. his arms were uncomfortably spread beside him, from falling to the floor, he remembered. they were sore to move but not impossible.

he just barely had a grip on who he was when he felt a hand. a soft hand, a hand pulsing with life, one that had given comfort at every turn. it was shaking his pained shoulder, while another soothed at his connecting forearm.

he could feel the breath on his ear before the words, familiar and warm, and though he swore to be sick of warm for a long time, he’d never be sick of this.

“percy?”

an ache at the core of his being subsided instantly. his eyes shot open, without second thought, without even a first.

it was dark and hazy, his vision greatly distorted with hooded lids. but that didn’t stop the inherent recognition of your presence beside him. he’d know the curve of your face and shoulders, the feel of your hands and breath anywhere, any time, and any place.

because you were home.

and he had done it. he had come home to you.

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#percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fic #percy jackson fanfiction #book percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson imagine #heroes of olympus fanfiction #heroes of olympus #house of hades #pjo imagine #pjo fanfic #pjo hoo toa #pjo #fanfic #Spotify

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m-ayo-o · 1 month

Text

21+ owner Megumi x bunny, nsfw; punishment, ownership, degradation, pussy slapping, bondage mention. hybrids

Megumi loves catching his naughty bunny doing things she shouldn't really be doing. He loves stepping into your bedroom to find your fingers buried in your tight little pussy or with a pillow stuffed between your legs because...

Well, because-

"You look so cute when you're scared"

He smirks, watching you gasp, taking shaky breaths with your eyes all wide and gleaming. You bite your lip and the fear sets in...

Because you have no idea how your owner will punish you.

"This is mine," he reaches for your wrist and pulls your fingers clean out of your pussy, making you shiver and shake.

"Did you forget that?"

He chastises you and pulls your wrists behind your back, securing them with one hand. He's so much bigger than you.. you can't help but find him scary at times.. although you know he has your best interests at heart.

He swiftly bends you over and lowers your face into the soft cushions. This way your screams will be muffled slightly. You're always so noisy when he has to punish you.

With your wrists still forced to your lower back, your body only covered by a little crop top and a skirt, he spreads your legs apart and exposes your heat.

"Mm.." he lets out a soft but deep moan, seeing how messy you got while he was away.

"Can't trust you, bunny"

He tuts and shakes his head.

"Why can't you keep your hands off, hm?"

When you don't answer he pushes your skirt all the way up and spanks your ass.

"ah~! hnn-"

"Is it because..." he muses for a few seconds, tracing his fingers through your puffy lips, over your ass and up to your cotton ball tail-

"you're a little slut?" He emphasises his point by harshly tugging at your tail, making you cry into the pillow.

He keeps going, tugging harder, making you whimper pathetically until you start nodding.

"Mm, see, that's what I thought.."

He traces his fingers over your pussy again, making your whole body squirm.

"But I thought my bunny promised," he slides two fingers inside up to the first joint- a teasing pleasure that makes you wiggle back onto him desperately, only for him to force you down harder-

"to be a good slut." His fingers slide in long and so fucking hard, but only twice, before he pulls them out with strings of your wet, hot mess.

Your body is just igniting with need, getting restless and squirming harder under his power until you're struggling and whimpering for him to touch you more.

But you don't seem to understand his intentions.

"Mm," he spreads you and watches you squirm for a few more seconds.

"I think I will," he mutters before pulling his hand back and giving you a harsh smack on your pussy.

"ah~ ah---!!" You all but shriek, little hands clenching into fists from the shocking pain.

And he keeps going, until your body starts reacting the way he wants.

"You're getting wetter."

He slaps your pussy faster, till it goes red.

"Now that is a good little slut," he hums, feeling pleased.

"So bunny," he slows down for a moment, massaging your leaky and puffy little hole, "can I trust you... to keep your hands off this pussy?"

"nnhnn--"

"Yeah? While your owner's away you promise you won't touch what's his?"

"nn- mmmm--"

"You won't play with your tits, or pinch at your nipples.. or your clit," his fingers slide round to tease you there for a second, "no going in this little pussy and don't even think about touching your ass."

You shake your head slowly.

"You're mine. Your body is mine."

"Do I make myself clear?"

"uh- uh huh--"

His grip loosens on your wrists a little and he lets you sit up and face him.

He touches under your chin and wipes away the tears from your pretty cheeks.

"Can I trust you, bunny?"

You look at him with big, needy eyes and nod wholeheartedly.

"Or..." he looks over your body in those cute clothes, "will I have to tie you up every time I leave?"

You bite your lip closed, feeling hot and bothered by his question.

He knows you'd most likely enjoy that. Being stripped with your legs tied open and your arms behind your back, just waiting for him to return. He knows you have a vivid imagination and would get carried away thinking of all the things he'll do to you when he gets back.

"You can.. trust me.."

You pout a little and he fully releases your wrists, letting you flop onto him after your punishment.

And you sniffle and nuzzle into him affectionately.

"m.. sorry, owner" you get right under his chin and he brings you into his arms.

"Mm, I know."

You're so vulnerable right now.

Needy, apologetic and horny.

"You promise to be good?"

You nod with those big sad eyes looking into his.

"Ok, good girl, come sit on my cock then."

And he lets you ride him all night, till you're creaming over his erection and promising you'll do anything he wants; that you'll be his good slut and keep your hands off your body. You want to please your owner and if that means obeying and listening to him, then that's what you'll do.

Now he has his bunny all pent up for him all the time, since you've been so obedient and stopped touching yourself.

But he wonders how long it'll last, until he has to smack you into compliance again.

megumi

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #18+ content #female reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #megumi <3 #hybrid reader #bunny reader #bunny x megumi

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andvys · 4 months

Text

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 28

Warnings: angst angst angst, mentions of unrequited love, mentions of cheating, betrayal, heartbreak, break up's

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader | Eddie Munson x fem!reader | mentions of Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler

Summary: Steve goes down memory lane.

Word count: 4.8k+

series masterlist

Steve is pacing around his dark room, feeling restless and dejected. His house is empty, no one but him occupying the empty and lifeless spaces. It’s quiet – despite the TV being on in his room, it’s quiet, too quiet. He hasn’t felt this way in a long time, so lonely and sad.

He blames it on the previous night, when his backyard was filled with life and laughter, when you were here, when you sat beside him, laughed at his jokes, talked to him.

He blames it on the leather band that is now adorning his right wrist, the words that are engraved into it, taking him back to a better and much easier time, when you were still children, when you were still friends, when the pain wasn’t anywhere near yet.

He blames it on the perfume that now lingers on the shirt he had worn last night, you hugged him when you said goodbye and he couldn’t find it in himself to wash it yet.

He blames it on the box that is standing beside his bed, the one that Nancy had found on the night of their breakup.

He blames it on the guilt and the regret he still feels so deep inside his soul.

Every time he is with you, he gets taken back to the night he had made the biggest mistake before it skips to the night back in December, when he shouldn’t have let you go, when he shouldn’t have let you let him go.

Every time he is with you, he can’t make sense of what was going on in his head when he decided to throw it all away, when he decided to break your heart. He didn’t want her. He never did. He wanted you, it was always you. But he was afraid, so deeply insecure that he let his fears guide him. He always searched for your dark side, not seeing that there wasn’t one, that it was him, only him and his dark thoughts – you would leave him sooner or later, right? You would leave and find someone better. And, you would forget all about him. You would realize that you never loved him as much as you thought you did. You would forget all about him. He would be nothing but a faceless memory. Steve couldn’t bear to stand that thought, so he left first, thinking that that would be easier. It wasn’t. It isn’t.

He stops pacing and for a moment, he looks out the window, watching the rain crash harshly onto the pavement in his driveway. Lightning surges through the sky and thunder rumbles loudly. He takes a deep breath, eyes following the rain drops slipping down the window.

He wonders where you are, right now.

Are you alone?

Are you with him?

He almost wants to laugh at the irony. Around this time, last year, these were probably your thoughts.

Is he alone?

Is he with her?

He can hear your voice, those questions that must’ve gone through your mind when he started skipping date nights with you to spend time with her. When he stopped calling you, every night.

Now he thinks about you.

About you with Eddie.

He saw the way you looked at him when he talked about the girls he had been with, he saw the way your eyes flashed with pain, the way you looked so crestfallen for a moment before the anger crossed your face. For a brief moment you looked at Eddie the way you looked at him on Halloween night.

It made him realize something that he kept ignoring desperately.

Steve knew that there was more than friendship between you and Eddie. He knew that Eddie fell for you. He was hoping that you wouldn’t fall for him, but you did, it happened long ago, already. You were blind to it and Steve didn’t want to see it.

And now he can’t stop thinking about it. It’s been torturing him since last night.

Despite all the things that happened between you both, despite the distance and the months of silence before you let him back into your life – Steve still had hope that he would get another chance with you. Maybe it was his delusions that kept telling him that, maybe it was his heart that kept feeding him with hope because after all this time, it is still yearning for you. Or maybe, it’s the lingering touches and the looks you are still giving him, the energy between you both, the love that has never gone away.

The hope inside of him dwindled the second he saw the betrayal in your eyes, last night.

Sick of his feelings and his thoughts, he decides to distract himself by cleaning his room. He turns off the TV and turns on the music instead – Back to the old house by The Smiths starts playing.

After taking a look around his room, he starts off by taking the sheets off and throwing them into the washer.

He gathers all the magazines that are laying all across his desk, and walks over to his bookshelf, he throws the magazines into the box that he keeps on the lowest shelf. His eyes fall on one of the books that he has yet to give you back – Pride and Prejudice. He must have read the book five times already, reading it makes him feel closer to you. He remembers all the times he walked in on you with your nose stuck in that book, you really loved it and he really loved watching you read it – how your eyes lit up, how your brows would furrow and your lips would curl into a smile.

With a sigh he tears his eyes away from it.

He wipes down the desk and his nightstand next, ignoring the picture of you, him and Robin that he had framed a while back. He pays no mind to the box on the floor or anything else that reminds him of you and for a few minutes, it works.

He organizes his closet, throwing out clothes that he no longer wears. The old shoeboxes on the ground that hold memories from his childhood and early school days. He doesn’t dare to peek inside, knowing that there will be reminders of a friendship he once had with you – a friendship that could never come close to the one you have now.

He dusts off the shelves, puts new sheets on his duvet and his pillows, vacuums the carpets and throws out the trash.

He looks around his room, sighing when he looks at the clock – 1am. He isn’t tired, not even close to it, and all he can think about is you… still. He runs his fingers through his hair and sits down on his bed.

The storm has passed but it’s still raining and Steve feels restless, just as he did all day. He looks at the pile of clothes that he has yet to put away into a box. A jacket that he hasn’t worn in years lies on the very top. His brows knit together and his eyes flash with curiosity when he notices the white paper that peeks out of the pocket.

He gets up and walks towards it, leaning down, he reaches for the folded paper. He turns it around, a smile appears on his face when he recognizes your handwriting. – For Stevie

Without even hesitating to, he unfolds it and walks back towards his bed, sitting down. For a moment, he stares at the words on the paper that you ripped out of your notebook – the one you always carried around, the one you had written all your little poems in, the one you had used to write him little notes during class, the one he gave you when you were fifteen. He got it at a bookstore in Indianapolis, when his parents took him there for a weekend. The pink leather and the cherries adorning the little book reminded him of you, he had to get it.

He licks his lips, a sad look flashing across his face when he realizes just how old the note is. It’s from October 1982.

Remember when I told you that I’d be much more popular than you someday, Stevie? Well, guess who just got accepted into the cheer team!

It’s only a matter of time before I become cheer captain – make some space, King Steve, I am so stealing your crown and your throne.

P.S. Thanks for convincing me to go to tryouts! You should finally take me to one of those parties you always go to! :)

His lips curl into a smile, he remembers that day, he remembers it so well.

You were beaming at him when you passed him that note, your eyes were shining, your smile was big. You were so excited and he was too, he was excited for you. He remembers the note he wrote back to you.

Make some space? You’re getting your own crown and throne, honey. What’s a king without his queen anyways?

P.S. Are you asking me out on a date? Isn’t it my job to ask you? :)

He remembers the way your cheeks flushed, the way your eyes widened and you started blushing. You blinked as you stared at the note. The way you turned to look at him with a shy smile on your lips, while he looked at you with a smirk on his face – as though he wasn’t freaking out on the inside. His heart was racing and his stomach churned at the thought that he might have overstepped. He liked you, he always liked you and he was always afraid to mess things up with you, to ruin your friendship by taking the leap and just kissing you the way he always wanted to, by asking you out on a date, by asking you to become something more than just a best friend. He wanted you to be his – even when you were nothing but clueless little kids, he wanted you to be his princess.

He wonders if you kept that note – if you kept any of the notes he had written back to you. Or if you threw them all away when he broke your heart and dumped you like you never meant anything to him.

He kept them all, every little note that you had written to him, he kept it.

He folds the note back together and puts it on his nightstand before he gets up, walking towards the box that holds all your belongings, he sits down on the ground, not looking into the box just yet.

He knows he shouldn’t do this, he knows he shouldn’t rip open old wounds, he shouldn’t let them bleed again. He’s been hurting enough already, but he can’t help it – he wants to go down memory lane, he needs to.

He looks at the collection of polaroids first, the ones of you before your relationship, when you were just best friends. He picks out the one of you, just you. You in your cheerleader uniform, a green scrunchie in your hair, an excited look on your face as you hold up the pom poms and smile into the picture that he had taken of you.

He remembers the way his heart was fluttering in his chest, the way it skipped a beat when he saw you in that uniform for the very first time, the way you hugged him and thanked him over and over again for convincing you to join the team – only because you loved the green uniform so much. It makes him laugh, you really liked the uniform more than you did cheerleading itself – nonetheless, you were the best cheerleader on the team, the best cheer captain.

He blinks as he stares at that picture for a long time – you looked so happy, so carefree. Not a single bad thought was on your mind, your heart was still so full of hope and love, your eyes showed nothing but pure joy. Your heart wasn’t broken yet.

He can’t believe that he was the one to take that happiness away from you.

His eyes well up with tears but he blinks them away, putting the picture down.

The next picture is one that you took of him when he wasn’t paying attention, he was wearing a christmas sweater, his face covered in flour, his brows furrowed, he looked concentrated as he was decorating christmas cookies – Stevie, December 1982. You drew hearts around his name.

With sadness in his heart, he continues to flip through the pictures that you both had taken over the years. Some of them make him smile, some of them make him want to cry.

The note he finds next takes him back to the night when he had first kissed you.

It was one of the best nights.

The snow was falling, you were both smiling. Your hand was shaking not from the cold but from all the excitement.

He had taken you home after your first date – he gave you everything, he could. He did everything to make your very first date a perfect one, a special one. He took you to Enzo’s, and now that he thinks about it, he understands why the elderly couple who sat at the table next to you were giggling and looking over at the two of you as they talked in hushed whispers, you were both so young to be at a restaurant like that, but it was nice, it was perfect. You were both in your own world, unaware of anything that was going around you.

He should have never left that world.

You looked at him like he was the best thing that was ever created. You looked at him with stars in your eyes and a smile that never looked happier than it did that night. You leaned into his touch when he cupped your cheek, you giggled when he removed that snowflake that landed on the tip of your nose.

He felt so happy that night. His heart was so full of love. He couldn’t stop staring at you. He couldn’t stop himself from kissing you.

He didn’t want to do it on the first date, he wanted to wait. But he couldn’t. Not when his heart was screaming at him to finally do it, not when you looked at him like that, not when he felt like it was the only thing he was ever meant to do.

You were standing in your driveway, inching closer and closer to each other and then, he kissed you.

He kissed you under the falling snow.

And it was perfect, it was everything.

The start of something beautiful – before he ruined it all.

Quiet sniffles sound through the room, the music stopped playing a long time ago, the rain is still falling, just like his tears that start to roll down his cheeks as he continues to read your notes, tracing every word written.

The notes and letters from the start of your relationship are so filled with love, happiness that shines through simple words, sentences that make his heart soar and hurt so badly, at the same time. You were happy with him, and you loved him, you truly loved him. He can even feel it through old letters and pictures.

Was there ever a reason to doubt you?

Was there ever a reason to doubt the love you had for him?

Was there ever a reason to think that you could ever leave him?

No.

Truly, there was never a single reason for him to believe that you would ever hurt him, that you would ever leave him.

You gave him your everything, even on your worst days, you gave him more than you should have. You gave him unconditional, undying love. You made him happy and smiled through your own sadness when he wasn’t feeling well and you continued giving even when he was taking so much from you.

And as the months had passed, the words on the ripped out pages began to sound more desperate. Sadder and more heartbreaking as you begged for his love, not knowing that Steve had left the little world you got stuck in. While you were still holding onto something that had died, he was already in a whole different world – one of hatred and self loathing, one that led him to ruin something that was once so dear to him.

Something that started with a true romance, a love so pure and real turned into something cruel – false promises, empty words and lies became his and your reality. He held your heart and he kept ripping it apart, piece by piece. He hurt you so badly. He accused you of things that you had never done, he gave you the cold shoulder whenever his dark thoughts fed him lies about you, he treated you so unkindly.

And yet, you never loved him any less.

You still looked at him with love in your eyes. You still searched for his touch, for his warmth. You still wanted him around, even on days when he had been nothing but cruel and awful to you, you still wanted him. You just wanted your boyfriend. You just wanted him to love you and he did. He really did but even through his selfishness, he could see how the light was fading in your eyes, how sadness was a bigger emotion in you than happiness was, how the love you had for him was making you miserable because all he did was hurt you and all you did was love him.

And then, she stepped into his life and something in him changed.

They met up at the library twice to study. The third time he took her to the diner and then the coffee shop downtown. By the fifth time, he had sneaked into her room but that was long after the project was over.

The miserable feeling that he caused himself wasn’t there whenever he was with her. She made him smile again, she made him laugh and she made him forget – she distracted him and blinded him from all his pain and guilt. She distracted him enough for him to stop calling you to say ‘goodnight’ or ‘I love you’, something that he would’ve done weeks before he had met her.

You never knew about the things he had done. You never knew that he was sneaking around with her behind your back. He would tell you that he was with Tommy but in reality, he was taking her out to diners and the movies, he would take her back to his place – sometimes the phone would ring and he would ignore it, he knew it was you, no one else ever called. He ignored the awful feeling that was nestled deep inside him, he ignored his heart that was screaming at him, he ignored, risked and sacrificed everything for a moment of bliss with Nancy – as though she or anything else could ever make him stop thinking about you.

You were unaware of everything that was happening behind your back. While he was loving on another girl, you were writing love notes to him.

He never touched her, he never kissed her, he never cheated on you, but what he did was just as bad. He betrayed you, he broke your heart and he dumped you while you were still holding onto him.

You kept loving him. You kept slipping notes into his pockets, into his books, into his locker. You were longing for his love, for his touch, for the affection he had once given you. And you never let go of the hope that he would love you again. You kept trying and trying to take things back to the way they were before.

But you were losing him to a girl he didn’t even love.

Steve feels nauseous, his stomach churns as he stares at all the things in front of him, all the love notes, all the pictures, all the things that belong to you. He takes a look at what he ruined.

How many nights have you spent crying while he was out there wasting time with her?

He hates himself, he hates himself so much.

He remembers the notes you had written to him when he was already seeing her. He remembers the way your face fell when he didn’t unfold the paper right away, the way he normally would have done. He remembers the look in your eyes and the way your smile fell. The way you kept sneaking glances at him during class, waiting for a note back, only to find out that that was the beginning of the end.

He didn’t write you any notes anymore.

But you kept writing them.

You kept looking at him with love in your eyes even when he was doing nothing but make you cry.

You kept kissing his cheek and whispered ‘I love you, Stevie’ whenever he dropped you off at home, not knowing that Nancy sat in the passenger seat, all the nights before.

You kept trying.

And he kept ruining.

Tears stream down his face, falling down onto the note that he is holding in his hand, staining the paper and the ink. He feels the regret, the guilt, the pain of what he had done to you, as though it just happened.

He felt sadness and guilt before, but never like this. He had never allowed himself to feel it all.

Now all he can think about is how much he truly hurt the person that meant everything to him – that still means everything to him. The only one he truly loved.

He is not the same person he used to be. He is not a foolish boy anymore. He wouldn’t hurt you like this now but he can’t undo anything. He can’t take things back, he can’t make it up to you, no matter what he does, no matter what he tries to do, he can’t make up for the things he had done to you.

Through his tears, he looks at the last item in the box, an old magazine. He takes it out, eying it through his blurry vision. He flips through the pages, about to throw it on the ground before him when something falls out from between the pages, landing on his lap.

He sniffles, frowning as he looks at the folded paper – another note. Unlike all the other ones, he doesn’t seem to recognize this one. He had never seen it before. Dread rushes through him.

You always hid the notes in obvious places – this one isn’t very obvious. This was your magazine.

He turns it around, his name is written on it, just like on all the others, but he can’t remember reading it.

Did you put the note into the magazine, hoping that he would find it someday?

Did you even put it in there or did he do it himself because he no longer cared about the words written to him?

He wipes his tears away, taking slow but steady breaths as he unfolds it, noticing how much bigger this note is than any of the other ones he had read. His heart starts beating faster as his eyes skim over the letter.

His throat feels tight, his chest feels heavy – a part of him doesn’t even want to read it, it’s in the past, it shouldn’t matter anymore, right? …. But it does, it still matters.

So, after a few deep breaths he starts reading.

I’m sure you’re sick of these notes and letters, it’s been a while since you wrote one back to me, it’s been 6 weeks actually. I don’t know why I even bother anymore, you don’t even seem to want them. I’m pretty sure that you don’t even read them anymore. You used to be so excited about them, now you just don’t care anymore. I don’t even know if you still care about me or us.

You don’t talk to me as much as you used to. I never know what you do or where you are. I keep leaving the window open for you, hoping that you’ll come but you don’t, you never do anymore. And I can’t look away from the fact that something has changed between us. I tried to look away, I really did because I didn’t want to see how your eyes no longer search for me but for her. I kept ignoring things, I kept telling myself what I wanted to hear and closed my eyes to what was happening in front of me. I kept holding onto the past, onto the love you once had for me, I kept holding onto the promises you had made because I wanted to believe that you wouldn’t lie to me but you changed, we changed.

But maybe this is just me overthinking, maybe nothing is wrong, maybe you still want me, maybe you still love me. I hope you do. I hope you still love me, Steve. I don’t want to live in a world where we aren’t together.

I hope that you will tell me that you still love me. I hope that you will hold me again the way you used to. I hope that things can go back to the way they were before.

If you’re reading this, I love you.

Steve’s eyes are red and bloodshot already but the tears won’t stop falling, the sadness spreads inside of him like a sickness. His heart feels so heavy in his chest.

A sob threatens to fall from his lips when he reads the date on the back of the note.

October, 30th 1984

You wrote it the day before he broke your heart.

You wrote it knowing that you were losing him.

You wrote it in hopes that he still loved you and that he still wanted you, not knowing that he would shatter your heart a day later.

His heart never felt heavier than it does now. It’s hurting and bleeding, not for himself but for you.

All he can think about is the look on your face, the pain and the sadness in your eyes, the absolute heartbreak.

But he also remembers the acceptance. You didn’t question him. You didn’t ask him to repeat those words. You didn’t ask ‘why’. You only nodded at his words and said ‘okay’ and that was it. He never understood it. He understands it now.

That moment was when you realized that you weren’t overthinking, after all. That there was something wrong. His words, his lies confirmed your words on the note.

He shattered a heart that was already broken – a heart that he kept breaking for months and months, only to crush it completely at the very end. All the tears you have shed, all the sadness you had felt, all the pain he had caused – he was making you suffer.

His tears keep falling on the note, ruining the ink on the paper.

With shaky hands, he drops it on the floor and he buries his face in his hands, allowing himself to let go and cry. He wishes that he could think of better moments. He wishes that he could go back to that night and change it all. He wishes he could go back to the night of your first kiss.

The night when the light in your eyes still shined, the smile that played on your lips, the wind that blew through your hair, the way you looked at him, the way it felt to kiss the love of his life.

That moment was so unlike the one on Halloween, last year.

He didn’t only break your heart, he also broke you.

And yet, you are still here.

You are still here.

You never left.

You always stayed, no matter what.

No matter the fights, no matter the pain, no matter the betrayal and the heartbreak. You are still here.

You stayed.

And you never planned on leaving.

Tears roll down his cheeks, the sobs fall from his lips, his body is shaking from sadness and anger, self hatred and pain.

Right now, he wants nothing more than to feel your touch, to feel your arms around him, to hear your soothing voice, to hug you and hold you and never let go, but all he can do is wrap his hand around the wristband on his right arm and hold it against his chest – the only thing that makes him feel closer to you. He wouldn’t deserve to feel your touch. He doesn’t deserve you. He never did.

His world comes crashing down when that realization hits him so harshly.

He was trying.

He was ready to fight for you, he was ready to fight for a second chance.

But the only right thing to do is to let you go, the way you asked him to months ago when you said goodbye to him in your driveway.

He knows it is the right thing to do and yet, he can’t fight the feeling in his heart that still longs for you.

A heart that will always long for you.

tagging friends & mutuals

@taintedcigs @mysticmunson @hellfire--cult @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @trashmouth-richie @xxhellfirebunnyxx @succubusmunson @take-everything-you-can @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked @nemesis729 @chrissymjstan

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington series #eddie munson series

579 notes · View notes

yawnderu · 5 months

Text

Immortal She — Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader

For a broken man with nothing to cling to other than his job, obsession can start fast. All it takes is one glimpse at the divine passing figure in the dark forest, his mind taken away from the mission to simply admire how perfect she looks, ignoring all the red flags going off in his head. Red is the color of love anyway, isn't it?

No civilians were ever found in that area, and yet. He keeps getting glimpses of her in the most unlikely places, seeing her passing figure and cherishing the memories every single time he does. It's not often she shows herself to him— sometimes he doesn't see her for weeks or months, sometimes years, yet he keeps her memory alive, not terrified when he sees the dark shadow standing behind him in the mirror.

He's too scared to look away, too scared to blink in fears he won't see the object of his obsession, yet all he can see is her figure. Oh, how he wishes he could see more. How he wishes he could turn around and ravish her in the way he imagines in his restless dreams, praising and worshipping her like the goddess he knows she is.

Water is getting in his eyes from washing his face after waking up from a nightmare, yet he doesn't blink no matter how much it stings. He's been through so much worse, what's a little pain compared to the reward of seeing her figure whole for the first time ever? He's so in love he doesn't even flinch when the figure is suddenly behind him, long nails that resemble claws more than anything are gently patting his bare chest. She's so close, right under the light, yet she's still just a shadow. Just a shadow, until he can see the white of an eye staring back at him through the mirror.

He's so fucked. He's so fucked, not because she will hurt him, but because he can't help falling harder and harder. Is he hallucinating again like when he saw everyone with skulls instead of human faces? Is the brainwashing and torture from Roba still affecting his brain? There's no way— he hasn't hallucinated in years.

Slowly the shadows burn away from her body, revealing the bare figure of his obsession. His muse, which he has been drawing nonstop after shamefully asking Johnny to teach him how to use the pen and paper, perfecting it in no time just to be able to portray her as accurately as he sees her. It's still not good enough— someone like her deserves to be painted for years before it's half as accurate, ignoring all the blisters and blood in his hands, ignoring the fading scars and the new ones. He'd paint her in his own blood even if it takes all of it.

Her head tilts to the side and her lips part as if she's going to say something, yet not a single word comes out of her lips. He realizes she's cold to the touch. Cold to the touch and wet, as if he's being tenderly held by the genesis serpent itself. His hand hesitantly reaches up to hold hers, ignoring the way her claws cut deep into his hand, ignoring the way blood is running down his arm and falling to the floor with an almost delicious drip. He holds her hand for what feels like forever, unblinking as he stares at how perfect their figures look together, like a puzzle piece that has been missing for years.

He doesn't know when exactly he passed out, alone in bed and with no visible wounds. The only proof of her presence that night was leftover dirt in the entrance of his quarters, forming a tiny path towards his bathroom, stopping where they embraced each other.

Making a series of one-shots about this soon.<3

458 notes · View notes

arafilez · 4 months

Text

☆ ⼂ PUNCH THE WALL ﹗

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ skz ot8 x any reader ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤangst, estb. relationship ㅤ warnings arguing, moderate cursing, and anxiety attack ㅤ﹢ㅤ0.2k per member wc ㅤㅤ pt 2 here ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ og request ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤOMG YOU TAKE REQUESTS YESSS OKAY how about skz reaction to their s/o punching the wall (and immediately regret it)in the heat of an argument - anon

◗ ៹ BANG CHAN ›

“Let’s sit down, and talk this out properly,” Chan says getting tired of the argument with each passing second. It is tiring how you are bringing up every small topic just for the sake of arguing.

His eyes widen the moment your fist lands on the wall and cringes at how you instantly wince from the pain. He remains still, watching your breath become more even.

You stare at your palm in shock not realising why you did it anyway. You are not that type of person at all.

“There are better ways of subsiding your anger,” Chan speaks up, slowly taking your hands in his and inspecting your knuckles. “Let’s get you a painkiller,” he whispers, kissing your cheek and you nod looking down.

“I don’t know why I did that,” you stutter out barely and he smiles handing you the tablet and shrugs saying, “Anger is a strong and restless emotion, it is important to learn how to control it. For example, you can tear up some paper into small pieces and make sure all pieces are small.”

“I will work on it,” you smile lightly and he nods encouragingly, “I know you will, darling.”

◗ ៹ LEE KNOW ›

You can’t do this anymore, if he retaliates one more time you might just punch the wall. Minho’s words pass by your ear and you feel a quick blood rush and punch the wall behind you.

The pain takes over immediately as you press your hands to your mouth as a whimper passes out of your throat. You can’t believe you just punched a wall. You never do that.

You hear Minho’s footstep coming towards you and he holds your hand inspecting your knuckles quietly. You keep your head down, ashamed, knowing you have crossed a line while he makes you sit on the couch. Taking out the first aid kit, he slowly dabs an ointment around your bruised knuckles. You watch him carefully and let out a quiet sigh before looking up at him.

“Don’t apologise, you gave yourself enough punishment,” he chuckles and continues, “Things like these happen. Doesn’t mean you are a toxic partner.”

“Thank you,” you reply, a sob choking your throat, “for everything.” You let out a weak smile and he smiles back lightly pecking your lips to cheer you up.

◗ ៹ SEO CHANGBIN ›

The picture frames rattle loudly as your fist lands on the wall and suddenly the room becomes quiet. The tension is thick as you open your fist and your hand rests where you have just punched while Changbin stands in a distance.

You are not this kind of a partner, you never are. Then why did you do that?

“You will beat me in punches in a gym,” Changbin’s voice enters your ear and you look at him mouthing, “Sorry.” He walks towards you and slowly takes your fists in his hand and continues, “Come on that one was funny.”

“Changbin I am so sorry,” you start crying, over sensitive from all your emotions and frustrations and the way you just expressed it. He holds you close and then hugs you till your sobs subside and turn into small whimpers against his neck.

“We all have bad days,” he whispers and continues, “But next time talk to me, don’t keep it to yourself.” You nod rapidly hugging him tighter, the regret now slowly being pushed to the back of your mind at his comfort.

◗ ៹ HWANG HYUNJIN ›

You give one last look to Hyunjin before your fist hits the wall in anger and you pant in rage. Regret takes over your feature almost immediately and you turn around to look Hyunjin frozen in his place and his eyes widening in shock and fear. Your resolve falters in a fraction of a second and you take a step towards Hyunjin.

“Hyun I swear-“ you start only for him to harshly cut you off, “Save it.” You slap your hand over your mouth to stop a sob escaping your mouth. You can’t believe what you did, this is not you.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Hyunjin exclaims and you open your mouth trying to explain yourself but he stops you telling, “Apply some meds and we will talk when you are calmer.” Saying that he leaves the room, making you rethink your decisions again and again.

◗ ៹ HAN JISUNG ›

Jisung’s breath fell short and the room felt like spinning as soon as he sees you punch the wall. He gasps loudly, holding the table near him and his vision starts to blur. He can feel the anxiety attack coming and he can do nothing about it.

You regret as soon as you did it but looking at Jisung the feeling worsens and you run to him. You hold him in your arms and whisper out, “I am so sorry baby.” You walk him slowly to the couch and he slumps down, gripping the couch handle rather strongly and you wince. Slowly unwrapping his fingers you hold them and look him in the eye.

“It’s me and I am sorry,” you whisper and hand him the water bottle as he shakily takes a sip from it. Panting slowly his vision clears and he finally sees your tear-stricken eyes and hugs you as you repeatedly say ‘sorry’ over and over again.

You love him so much, hand you wish he can forgive you which unknowingly maybe he did.

◗ ៹ LEE FELIX ›

Imagine you are minho 😭

“Oh shit,” you curse loudly at the wincing pain in your knuckles as you punch the wall and Felix’s eyes widen but he doesn’t move from his place. You hold your fist and press your lips together but the whimper doesn’t go unnoticed by Felix who grabs a painkiller and a bottle of water.

“I didn’t mean to-“ you start but your boyfriend cuts you off saying, “Sit down.”

“Okay,” you oblige and he hands you the water bottle which you gladly take sipping on it lightly. His eyes scan your feature full of remorse and he rubs his hands over your knees whispering, “Relax, it’s alright.”

“It’s not and you know it,” you choke out and look away unable to look at his kind eyes. “Let’s talk about it, yeah?” he proposes and you nod smiling lightly and his eyes light up at your acceptance.

◗ ៹ KIM SEUNGMIN ›

“Kim Seungmin,” you snarl at him, “I am warning you.” Seungmin’s indifferent sigh angers you to your last extent and you look at him straight in the eyes and punch the wall beside you. You quickly retreat your hands as soon as you do it, shock and remorse washing over your features.

You look at him and see him stare back at you, mouth parted and eyes holding annoyance as he speaks, “So you talk with your hands now.” You shake your head lightly looking away, ashamed of yourself. A scoff of disbelief leaves his mouth and Seungmin pokes the inside of his cheeks eyeing your figure.

“I am sorry,” a sob escapes your throat as you say it out loud and Seungmin’s features soften for a millisecond before he exhales and says, “We will talk when you are ready.” And not punching walls, he thinks but refrains from saying it out loud and leaves the room while you sit on the floor and a stray tear escapes your eye.

What have you done?

◗ ៹ YANG JEONGIN ›

The pent up frustration about everything in life and Jeongin’s childishness gets the best of you and you punch the wall behind you. Your knuckles make a cracking sound at the force. You immediately get back from your trance and stare at Jeongin who is rooted at his place.

“Jeongin I-“ you try, but your voice falters when you see him take a step back, his hands folded against his body protectively. Hurt crosses over your features and you open your mouth to speak and make him comfortable.

“Just fucking listen-“

“No”

“Innie-“

“I said no,” Jeongin yells at you and a pin drop silence falls around the room.

“Don’t come near me, we will talk later,” Jeongin’s voice held remorse and fear and you exhale slowly nodding at him. You watch him leave and regret takes over your features.

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ ara's notes ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤtysm anon for requesting this, i hope you like it, some of them have open endings and unsolved arguments 'cause i suddenly love writing that lmao. tysm for the people who are reading and the blr notes. ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ taglist ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤ@haneagerr @jeonghanfr ㅤmain mlistㅤ skz listㅤ navi ㅤ add to taglist

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kafkaesque22girlfriend · 2 months

Text

The Damned Pt.3

Toji Zenin x fem!reader

Synopsis: forced to get in with the Zenin clan by your parents as a servant, Toji Zenin seemed to damn you more than himself….

mentions of blood, child abuse, Toji being Toji, nightmares.

Toji sat in the kitchen for a while, thinking about his fuck up of a life, his fuck up of a head. He probably should have killed you for even thinking about touching him like that, a simple graze of your fingers under his chin. Soft fingertips, soft skin touching at his bruised and battered skin. He swallowed thickly. That was the first time in his life, that someone else's touch didn't inflict any sort of pain or violence onto his body. He grunts and shakes his head at the thought. He'll be damned if he let anyone in. He's let you this time, but if you even dare to touch him again…

Toji went to his room, wanting to sleep this exhausting day off and forget about this. Sleeping was either hit or miss with him, sometimes he slept like a rock and never wanted to wake up and other times he was restless. It seemed he did drift off for a while when he slipped into bed. However, you didn't have much luck with that….

You glanced at your alarm clock and it was 2 am. Your thoughts were pounding and clouded your rational mind, your throat was dry and itchy. Your fingers twitched, unable to forget the feel of Toji's skin at your fingertips. What was he thinking? What did he want? He was so private and reserved. You decided to trudge out of your quarters and head downstairs to the kitchen and get some water. The water did anything to soothe your mind, or anxious body for that matter. You internally scowl at yourself for being like this, for thinking too deeply into something you shouldn't be, someone who you shouldn't be intrigued by: the black sheep, the damned.

You head upstairs and while you go to step into the hallway, you hear grunts coming from Toji's room. He was probably working out late at night again. That's what you assumed but then you heard the pained exhale and the shaky groans. You became concerned and it was a good thing his door was slightly open. The sight made your face scrunch up.

Toji was on his bed, writhing and twitching, soaked in sweat, that t-shirt of his clinging to his body like a second skin. The look on his face...his features were twisted in pain as his fists clenched white by his side. You've never seen him like this before, maybe you just never heard it when you were deeply sleeping...does this happen to him every night?

“Father…stop...” Toji twitched as he said that under his breath. His body shook slightly as his mind and body became filled with fear. This damn nightmare that haunted him whenever he tried to rest his tortured mind.

Without even thinking, you immediately rush over to him and put your hands on his shoulders softly, rocking him awake.

“Toji. Wake up.” You say worriedly, trying to get him awake without being too firm.

Yet it wasn't working. It felt like he wasn't even breathing. He was in a cold sweat, his body was rigid and violent as he was thrashing about. “Please wake up!” You gasped, using more force now, fear was etched on your face seeing him this way. He worsened as he kept his eyes tightly closed.

But something about your voice made him open them for a brief moment. Toji's eyes were filled with terror and his hands clasped themselves around your wrists as his dark green eyes narrowed into mere thin slits.

"Get...get away from me.” He said sharply.

Toji gripped onto your wrists tight, it felt like the bones were about to snap. Fear flashed in your eyes as your breath became heavy, by some saving grace, you were unable to pull your hand away. When you glanced back at your hand, red marks were adoring the place where his grip was.

You were scared. Scared of him right now.

Your face went completely pale and terrified of his demeanour. Toji promised that he would kill you if you ever touched him again...but when he saw what he had done, the way your eyes widened in fear. He didn't like it...he felt uneasy. He had hurt you. But in that moment, any touch to him could have been his father. “Toji...please talk to me.” You plead with him meekly.

"Don't. ..Don't touch me.” He leaned up and his brows lowered alongside his tone.

“Hey. Look at me. It's just me.” You look into his eyes, trying to soothe him in some sort of way to get him to relax. He was still definitely on edge, he took this time to focus his weary gaze on you. You were sweating even if you were wearing a thin nightdress. Your gaze flitted to your wrists, seeing the blossoming red and blue marks on your wrists, you covered it up for now. He didn't need the extra guilt.

“It's just me. Okay?” You whisper, trying to calm him down

The way you spoke to him so gently, even keeping a little distance to make him feel less threatened. He felt... less uneasy now. He looked at you, your eyes, your lips, your neck, your collarbone...His expression softened the smallest amount, not enough for you to notice though.

"You're safe. Nothing can get you...Okay?” You say with caution. He was covered in sweat, his face drained of all colour. You've never seen him like this before...this afraid. Your wrists were still dealing with the aftershocks of him grabbing it like that, but right now that didn't matter. “Please, talk to me.. What happened?”

As you spoke in that soft sweet voice of yours, he felt like he was knocked out and in some sort of daze.

He didn't want to let you in. He didn't want you here...to see him like this. Toji should through you out. But feeling your presence near him was a hell of a lot better than you not being here right now.

God, he needed you right now. And he hated it. He was starting to come back to reality.

Toji watched you get up, his eyes following you carefully as you instinctively fetched him a towel and a new clean shirt. This small act of kindness was appreciated by him, he fucking hated how damn attentive you were. You sit back down on the edge of the bed next to him and give him them. You watch him take his sweaty shirt off, seeing the muscles of his tight and tense chest ripple before you. He swiped the towel all over him, cleaning himself up and then putting the fresh shirt on.

“I've just been having the same nightmare again... It's not that big of a deal.” He mumbled, wanting to downplay this particular thing. His weakness was being chipped open and he very much didn't want that.

He didn't even look at you, too embarrassed by the way he was acting right now.

You lean forward, not truly thinking about what you are doing, but you just feel the need to make him feel grounded to get the truth. You reluctantly put your palms on the sides of his face softly and make him look at you. Toji stilled into your hold...he should hurt you for that, he should...but he couldn't.

“Please don't lie to me.” You whisper. The way he was. Those soft palms...that sad look on your face. The way he was acting like this wasn't a big deal was scaring you even more.

Toji's heart felt like it was being strangled, he swallowed hard and his mouth opened. That was when he stopped thinking and just pulled you tight against him, his arms swallowing you whole. You gasp as he does that, his arms holding you as if he would die if he let go, your eyes widen, arms rigid for a moment. Toji buried his face into your shoulder and that was when you reluctantly wrapped your arms around him too. He let out a soft grunt, keeping a very strong grip on you, God he didn't want to let go, he held you even tighter.

“Woah, hey...it's okay. Tell me what's wrong." Your tone was soft but your voice was shaky.

Toji couldn't stop it, he couldn't help it. His eyes started to brim with tears, and his lip quivered.

“My father...he was beating me again...I'm just...I'm so tired.” He muttered under his breath, wanting to choke on his fear itself. Fuck, why was he admitting that? Why the hell was he crying? Was he that fucking weak?

You exhaled sharply when his words registered, your face went so pale as his heartbeat kept pounding.

“Why didn't you tell me?”

Toji's body felt like it could disintegrate into dust when you pulled him into your arms too, your warm embrace, that soft skin...His breath was catching in his throat and as the tears leaked down his face, he took in your scent. Sweet. So sweet...He had never cried in front of another person in his entire life, but this time he couldn't keep this gaurd up right now, he sobbed onto your shoulder.

“I don't... Never...I don't want them all to find out what he did...I'd- I can't handle it.”

You pulled away to look into his tear-stricken eyes, his face was ashen. He looked so tired and so lost, exhausted of harboring all this pain, bottling it all up. You gaze down at the scars and bruises, you knew the stories...but seeing him like this was jarring. Imagining him as a little boy, being beaten just for not having any cursed energy, being hurt for not being perfect- it made you worry. “I know how difficult it is for you to open up to me about these things...but I can't tell you how much it means the world to me right now.”

The way you looked at him, the way your eyes were filled with nothing but concern for him...it made him confused, yet he couldn't let go of your body, he liked the way the silk of your nightdress felt against his hands was nice. Toji breathed out raggedly.

“I can't...I can't be weak. I have to be strong...Protect myself...since I was a kid.”

Toji watched your face shift from concerned to determined this time.

'You're strong.” You say confidently as if you were stating a simple fact. “Please just stop being so cruel to yourself.” Your pleading voice made Toji hold onto you even tighter.

You thought...he was strong? Liar.

“I'm not. I'm not being cruel to myself. I'm a disgrace, I've made my peace with that now. Don't try to convince me otherwise.” He gritted out through clenched teeth, his jaw was ticking as irritation engorged his veins. Yet, when he took in the scent of your hair, that sweet sugary scent, he felt subdued a little. What did that mean? He snapped out of his thoughts and that's when you opened your lips to speak.

This would be it, he would either kill you on the spot or...accept your proposal.

“Do you want me to...stay with you tonight?”You ask hesitantly, gazing deeply into those lush green eyes.

Toji's eyes snapped to yours, it felt like his breath hitched in his throat and his body tensed up. Do you want to stay here? In his bed? With him? When you're wearing that little slip of yours? Your body...that close? He wanted to throw you out, lash out at you, put you back in your place for ever getting that close to him. He couldn't, not when you looked at him like that. Those lips...you were so close. He could see the little indent on your lips, that small stain of wine soaked on your lips.

"Look we don't have to talk about this in the morning, we can forget it ever happened. But for tonight, let me stay with you, okay?'

Fuck. That weak smile of yours...did something to him. He shouldn't, he shouldn't-

“Stay.” He said under his breath, honestly hoping you wouldn't hear him but you did.

'Okay.' You get on the other side of the bed and under the covers, resting your head on the pillow facing him. Your chest fluttered a bit when you realized what you were doing. You were in your master's bed, so near him, close enough to smell him, to feel that warmth. The whole bed smells like him. Blinking up at him, your eyes glazed over the smallest bit- he noticed a small blush on your cheeks too.

“Go to sleep. I'll be here, okay?”

Taglist (mwah!) @wo-ming-bai @xduskydollx @chilichopsticks @maskedpacific @kaizxnx

#toji angst #toji fluff #toji x y/n #toji smut #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu kaisen #jjk angst #jjk toji #jjk smut #jjk x reader #toji zenin #toji x reader #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro #jujutsu toji #jujustsu kaisen x reader

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prythianpages · 6 months

Text

Stuck On You | Part Three

cassian x reader | Cassian can't seem to forget about you since the night you met seven years ago. he thought he would never see you again but when he does, he's determined to make you his. this time for good.

“Don’t worry. She likes your butt and fancy hair. I know, I read her diary.”

[part one] [part two] [part three] [part four] [final part]

A/N: I debated on splitting this into two parts since it came out longer than intended but I wanted to leave the bulk of the angst in this part. Some more scenes and quotes from Lilo & Stitch since I couldn't help myself. just one more part! I have a rough outline of it so I probably won't be able to finish it tonight but definitely by some time this coming week.

Warnings: angst, some fluff if you squint, mentions of violence/abuse

“Cassian said he would take me out for ice cream if you said yes!” Seraphine beamed, removing her boots at the foyer of your small, humble home. “I’ve never had ice cream before. Have you?”

“Sera,” you said with a sigh, concern laced into your tone over how attached she was to him. His month-long absence had given you a glimpse of the consequence of the effect he had on not just you but Seraphine as well and you didn’t want her to get hurt. She wouldn’t understand.

“I think it’s best if we don’t see Cas anymore.”

She turned to you with a pout. “He’s our friend! You have to say yes.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” Seraphine’s lip quivered, her tired eyes brimming with tears.

You didn’t answer, couldn’t bring yourself to.

Instead, you threw your aching body onto the small loveseat in the living room. This week had taken both an emotional and physical toll on you, as you tirelessly kept Seraphine up to date with her studies, managed the tavern’s monthly expenses and wrestled with your inner turmoil concerning Cassian. The constant restlessness in Seraphine only added to the mountain of exhaustion, her unbridled excitement buzzing incessantly over everything.

You knew you should draw a bath for the both of you and then head to bed, considering your fatigue.

However, you were well aware of your little sister’s stubborn nature as it was one you also exhibited. It must run in the family. Once she was fixated on something, there was no distracting her and judging by the intensity of her little sister’s sobs, you braced yourself for a long and challenging night.

“You’re so mean!” She cried. “I hate you!”

“Please don’t be a pain tonight,” you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“You should just sell me and buy a rabbit instead!” Sara shouted at you with her finger pointed at you, referring to your empty threat of replacing her with a rabbit every time she misbehaved. You hadn’t brought it up in months, years even, and were surprised she remembered.

“At least a rabbit would behave better than you,” you muttered.

“Go ahead!” Seraphine exclaimed, making you wince at her sharp tone. You hoped your neighbors could not hear her, fearing what they’d do if they did. You heard her angry stomps as she made her way to her room. “Then you’ll be happy! It will be smarter than me too.”

“And quieter!”

“You’ll like it because it’s stinky like you!”

“Go to your room!”

“I’m already in my room!” Seraphine screamed as she opened her door just to slam it shut again, irritating you further.

You grabbed the nearest pillow and brought it to your face to muffle your scream.

Guilt began to settle as your initial anger faded away. You knew you had overreacted. For many years, it had just been you and the small family your mother had created. Neither you or Seraphine had made any friends in Ironcrest yet, unless you counted the friendly old male who you purchased spices and groceries from every Sunday.

Your small family of four had unexpectedly and significantly reduced to half, leaving just you and Seraphine. Of course, she was excited when Cassian came along. You’d deny it if asked but a part of you was excited too.

He was sweet and kind but your worries crept in about what it meant to allow him into your tightly-knit world. What if things didn’t work out between you? What if the burdens you carried were too much for him to bear? You couldn’t allow him in further when your sister was already so attached to him, unable to bear the thought of having her witness another loved one disappear from her life.

You had to end this, whatever it was that you and Cassian had and you had to end it soon. Before any further damage could be provoked.

Throughout your life, stability had been a luxury, and the haunting fear of attachment loomed over you. The constant uprooting had instilled a deep seated fear of getting close to people. Every bond you had forged was inevitably followed by a painful goodbye. The walls safeguarding your heart, constructed since childhood, grew higher and stronger with every move. You had hoped that your mother’s marriage would bring a lasting change, a nice and needed break from moving, and for a while, it had.

However, the universe had a cruel way of reminding you that stability was a luxury you couldn’t afford. You would’ve never expected your one night stand with Cassian would lead to something more–to this.

Cassian, with his unwavering determination, posed a threat to the walls you had carefully built around your heart. Love. It seemed like a beautiful risk but the fear of losing what was gained, overshadowed its allure for you. Your heart had never felt so heavy.

You took a deep breath before knocking on your sister’s door. The lack of response didn’t surprise you. She must still be upset. The soft glow of faelight seeping from beneath her door confirmed she was awake. Balancing the two mugs of hot cocoa in one arm, you opened the door and slipped inside.

Your stomach churned at the sight of your little sister, clutching the pegasus doll that Cassian had gifted her. Tears streaked her face as she gazed down solemnly.

“I brought you, your favorite. Hot cocoa,” you offered, hoping to bring a glimmer of cheer to her troubled expression.

“We’re a broken family, aren’t we?”

You frowned, setting the tray down on the nightstand, hesitating before answering. “Maybe but only a little…”

You settled yourself onto Seraphine’s bed, gently cradling her into your lap. “I’m sorry for earlier. I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you.”

“I like you better as a sister than a mother…” Seraphine sniffled.

“Yeah?” You tenderly brushed her long, dark hair away from her face in contemplation.

A pang tugged at your heart–the weight of becoming a mother figure pressed on your shoulders. As a sister, you also played a nurturing and protective role in Seraphine’s upbringing, offering support when it was needed. You were the one Seraphine would run to for comfort after your mother's scolding or being stern with her, but now you were the one that had to be stern. It was a struggle finding the delicate balance between fulfilling the motherly duties Seraphine needed and preserving the sibling bond that meant the world to you.

“And you like me better as a sister than a rabbit, right?”

“Oh, my sweet Sera.” You replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead, your arms wrapping around her smaller form with a gentle squeeze. “Of course I do! I would not make my special hot cocoa for just anyone. Only you.”

You handed one of the mugs to her, smiling fondly as she inhaled the rich aroma of the hot cocoa.

“Cassian says ice cream is like frozen milk,” she mused softly. “I wonder what hot cocoa would taste like frozen but then it would no longer be hot cocoa, right? We would have to come up with a new name for it but I don’t think I like the sound of frozen cocoa…”

Her innocent dilemma made you laugh, finding it utterly endearing. You wanted her worries to always be like this. Small and trivial.

“Perhaps we should leave the cocoa out to freeze and find out for ourselves? We can decide on a name then.”

The night air was chilling, the cold wind biting at your cheeks. You hugged your coat closer to you, sparing at glance at Seraphine to make sure she still had hers on and the scarf you had bought her was snug to keep her neck warm. You couldn’t help but giggle when you caught Cassian, who had been persistent on walking you home, was constantly blowing his hair out of his face.

“Did you lose all your hair ties?” You quipped, digging into the pocket of your pants and offering a hair tie to him to alleviate his struggle. He reluctantly took the elastic from you and tied his hair up into his usual bun. You noticed he wore it down more recently. “You can keep it, too.”

“I just wanted to let it loose, try something different.” He replied with a casual shrug of his shoulders.

You let out a small hum, stuffing your hands back into your pockets to keep them hidden and fell into a thoughtful silence once more. There was a knot in your stomach as you three neared your house.

Seraphine, who once again had chosen to skip ahead of you two, paused. She turned around with a knowing gleam in her eye. Her lips curled up and she opened her mouth to speak and if you hadn’t been occupied in the tempest of your thoughts, you wouldn’t have missed Cassian bringing his finger to his lips to keep her from exposing him.

“Fancy hair,” she giggled, despite his plea.

“What was that?” You said, turning your head toward your sister.

Both Seraphine and Cassian exchanged a look before turning to you, responding in unison:

“Nothing!”

Your eyes narrowed at the two in suspicion but you decided not to question it.

When you three finally reached your home, Cassian was surprised at your invitation to come inside. You had never invited him inside, always bidding your farewells at your door. He walked in, overwhelmed by the sweet and delightful scent. It smelled just like you. His eyes darted around the living area curiously, taking in all the small touches you incorporated to make this place feel like a warm and inviting home.

You instructed Seraphine to change and pick a book for you to read to her before bed. She politely said her goodbye and goodnight to Cassian, her movements slow as she was reluctant to follow your instructions. She had no desire to go to bed, not when Cassian was inside your home for the first time and you found the glare she sent you amusing.

Cassian was staring at the wilted and dead flowers resting in a small vase you had placed on the kitchen table, recognizing them as the ones he had gifted you so long ago. You never threw them away.

“Cassian.”

He loved the way you said his name. But it was different this time. He pulled his attention away from the kitchen table to look back at you. You leaned against the back of the loveseat in hesitation, your eyes revealing the weight of the decision you were about to make.

His throat tightened. “Yes?”

“I think it’s best if you stop coming here.” Your voice was laced with a vulnerability you hated and before Cassian could reply, you were speaking again. “I have to take care of my sister. I can’t risk her getting attached, more so than she already is and–and neither can I. We’ve lost so much already…”

A tear escaped your eye. You brushed it away with a trembling hand and then Cassian was bridging the distance between you both, his hand gently cupping your cheek and coaxing your gaze to his.

“Y/n,” he gently whispered. “You’re not going to lose me.”

“How can you say that? What if something happens and–”

“Please don’t push me away.”

“They call you the Lord of Bloodshed. You’re the commander of the High Lord’s armies. You made a name for yourself. And me? I am no one. I’m not worthy of love. Of you. You’ll soon realize it and grow tired of me–”

“Stop.” Cassian interrupted, bringing his other hand up to cup your face. His touch was both comforting and agonizing. “You are worthy of love and so much more and I want to prove it to you. There could be a room full of others but just like that night at the bonfire, I want you. I choose you.”

A heavy sigh escaped you as you gently removed his hands from your face. “But I can’t choose you. I have to choose Seraphine. I always will and right now, I can’t afford to have you both.”

The weight of your words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the responsibilities that anchored you, pulling you away from the love that beckoned.

Cassian grasped your hands in his, refusing to let them slip away. He did not want to let go of you. He understood the depth of your worries and the distress etched onto your features was breaking his heart. Why couldn’t you see yourself the way he saw you?

“I won’t force you into something that scares you, y/n.” He reassured you with a soft tone, his thumbs tracing soothing circles on the back of your hands. “I only want what’s best for you and Seraphine.”

Your lips trembled as you managed a small, strained smile.

“But you have to know that I love you–both of you. And this love, it’s not going anywhere. It’s a constant. A promise that will never waver.”

Cassian hadn’t returned and although you had asked for it, you couldn’t deny the lingering void in your heart. Seraphine sensed something was amiss when your voice wavered as you read her a bedtime story shortly after he left. Surprisingly, she refrained from asking about Cassian until a week later, almost as if she dreaded hearing the news that he wouldn’t be coming back.

When she finally did, tears welled in her eyes and you comforted her, convincing yourself it was for the best. However, the attempt of reassurance was futile and did little to ease your own pain.

Seraphine sighed, absentmindedly nudging the green vegetable on her plate. Scrumps was propped on the table, facing her with its stitched eyes. “At least I still have you,” she murmured to the pegasus plush. “You’ll never leave me, right?”

You frowned at the sight, feeling helpless and unsure how to alleviate your sister’s sorrow. This was precisely what you had tried to shield her from and it stung to realize it was too late. The damage had already been done.

Your attention was then pulled away as the creaking door to the tavern swung open. The room fell into silence. The dining Illyrians, previously immersed in their conversations, cast furtive glances toward the entrance.

In stepped the formidable son of Ironcrest’s war-lord, Kallon. Another Illyrian stepped in behind him but he was overshadowed by Kallon’s commanding presence. His gaze swept over the room, eyes like steel, assessing every face, every corner of the establishment. The tension in the air was palpable. He was looking for someone.

The regulars exchanged subtle nods, acknowledging the unspoken command to show respect. Whispers died down, and the muted sound of footsteps echoed as he advanced further into the tavern. The atmosphere had shifted from one of amiability to one of quiet deference, all eyes now focused on the figure who seemed to hold the establishment in the palm of his hand.

Your eyes were wide and you felt your body tense. You almost forgot how to breathe when Kallon’s cold eyes found yours. Seraphine, who sensed your distress, hopped off her chair and ran to you. Her tiny hand found yours and you guided her to stand behind you as Kallon continued his approach.

“Kallon,” you managed to find your voice, forcing a smile onto your face as you bowed your head in respect. “Should I prepare a table for you and your companion?”

“There’s no need.” He replied. He then turned his head at the eavesdropping Illryians, his gaze a silent warning to them. It wasn’t until the menacing look on his face prompted a couple to abandon their tables and those that remained to resume their conversations that he turned his attention back to you. “I came here to speak to you.”

“Me?” You echoed, your voice daring to break. The male behind Kallon remained quiet but you caught the way his gaze had flickered to your little sister, who hid behind your skirts. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“It has come to my attention that you have been fraternizing with an Illyrian male from Windhaven–” Kallon’s lips curled up in disgust and you felt Seraphine’s grip on you tighten. “– who just so happens to also be the High Lord’s general.”

“His name is Cassian.” Seraphine said, peeking out from behind you to scowl at Kallon.

Kallon looked toward your sister with a scoff. You pressed Seraphine into your hip to keep her from speaking again, worried of the consequences that may unfold. “He’s just a friend.”

Kallon’s attention drifted back to you, his gaze burning into you. “It seems you and I have different understandings of a friend because friends don’t kiss each other now do they?”

Your breath hitched. The two of you seldom interacted with each other. The last time you did was to report your mother’s murder. You cursed yourself at that moment, disappointed with yourself. You had failed to recognize that Cassian was well known throughout Illyria and to make it worse, he was from Windhaven. A rival camp to Ironcrest. You wondered how long Kallon had been following you and why he waited to confront you about it now, several months later since Cassian’s first visit.

“I–”

“It’s not a good look for you, y/n.” Kallon shook his head in disapproval with a small tut. “You of all people should know the consequences of whoring yourself out. Finding a husband will be troublesome for you and if you continue down this path, it is not a good example for your dear little sister.”

Your blood grew cold at the insult and you forced yourself to look up to keep the tears that were threatening to spill at bay. “I’m s–”

“It seems I may have failed you in some aspects.” Kallon interrupted, raising a finger at you in warning. He turned his attention to the empty glasses lined at the counter. “It is my job, after all, to help my father run this camp and it seems that I have overlooked you. Poor little y/n. You have been running this business and raising your sister all on your own.”

His fingers danced along the counter, a wicked gleam in his eyes. The sound of breaking glass echoed through the air, a sharp and crystalline shatter that reverberated through your bones and had Seraphine wincing into your body. You stared at the shattered glass at your feet, heart pounding through your ears.

“But it is not your place to do so.” Kallon reprimanded, his voice seething with a barely contained intensity. “It is his.”

You lifted your gaze.

The Illyrian male that had been quietly observant finally stepped forward. His features held a strange familiarity you couldn’t quite place. His eyes were cold and distant, lips pressed into a taut line.

“This is Aerik. Seraphine’s uncle.”

The wind was knocked out of you as the day you had dreaded finally came. Kallon had tracked down your step father’s only living relative– his brother, Aerik. The illusion you had so carefully crafted was unraveling and you found yourself at the precipice, forced to surrender the tavern and Seraphine, as if she were a mere object, to him.

But you knew the future that laid ahead for Seraphine if she stayed with her uncle. To you, she was your precious little sister, the one you had devoted your life to. To him, she was disposable, reduced to nothing but a bargaining tool once she was of marrying age.

She would not have the freedom to be a child as she did with you. She would be groomed to become a submissive wife and soon enough, her wings would be clipped. A tradition that had been banned but not enforced in Ironcrest. You could not allow any harm to fall to your sister, not when you were alive and capable of taking care of her. You wondered if this is how your mother had felt when she had you, cornered by the cruel world.

Kallon had left moments ago, along with the remaining customers, but now without a warning. A threat to harm you and Cassian in unimaginable ways if Kallon heard of Cassian meeting with you again.

"I don't give a fuck if he's the High Lord's pet. This is my father's camp and as his son, I have the authority to punish those who dare cross us as needed."

You had instructed Seraphine to go to the kitchens to help tidy up, leaving you and Aerik alone. Your eyebrows knitted together in an exasperated manner, bewildered by his demands.

You were a half breed–half high fae, half Illyrian–and a bastard. You were of little significance to Aerik–to any male in this damned camp, if you were being honest–and his plans with Seraphine did not include you. He wanted to take her away from you. For good.

He shifted, directing himself toward the kitchen and you were stopping him. Your hand gripped his arm desperately. “Seraphine needs me.”

Aerik tore his arm from your grasp with a snarl, using it to grip yours instead in retribution. His grip was hard and bruising and had you grimacing. “Is this what she needs?” He seethed, vividly gesturing to the tavern and lack of order in Seraphine’s life.

“It seems clear to me that you need her a lot more than she needs you.”

Cassian told himself he would give you space, as tortuous as it was for him. It’s what you had asked him for. He missed you dearly, often wondering if you were feeling that painful ache in your heart too. Despite the temptation, he resisted the urge to ask Azriel to check in on you with his shadows, not wanting to bring his friend into this tangled messy emotions he found himself grappling with. He couldn’t shake the desire to check up on you one more time, hoping that you might've change your mind.

A week later, when an overwhelming sense of unease gripped him, he set off for Ironcrest.

Cassian pushed open the door to the familiar tavern, his second home as Rhysand had teased him weeks ago. His eyes scanned the room in search of you like they always did, but he couldn't spot the one person he was hoping to see. His head was then turning to the table Seraphine often occupied only to find it empty.

An unsettling feeling knotted in his stomach when he couldn’t spot either of you, not missing the glare the male behind the counter had sent his way. It confirmed his suspicion that you weren’t here. Growing concerned, he decided to look for you, hoping you were safe and sound at home.

The journey was swift as it was one he knew by heart, his footsteps echoing through the quiet streets. When he reached your door, he hesitated for a moment. He could see the subtle glow of a light, coming from the small window that he knew faced your living room. He heard a squeak come from inside, recognizing it as Seraphine’s, and then he was knocking on your door.

There was a faint rustling inside and then the door creaked open. Cassian’s confusion set in as he initially saw no one at the other side. It wasn’t until he heard a sharp gasp that his gaze shifted downward, relief washing over him as he spotted Seraphine.

“Cas Cas!” Seraphine’s expression brightened, reveling in his presence and wrapping her tiny arms around him when he crouched down. “I thought I’d never see you again!”

“It’s good to see you too, munchkin.” Cassian smiled fondly, lifting her up with ease. He had missed her so much too.

“Sera, it’s time for your ba–Cassian?” You blinked, your grip on the towel in your hand tightening. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Can I come in?”

You looked past his shoulders worriedly and hesitantly nodded.

Cassian stepped into the foyer, crouching down to let Seraphine down. She grasped at his hand, guiding him to the living room where you stood with a forced smile on your face.

His worry deepened as he looked at you. "You weren’t at the tavern so I came to–to see you.”

To make sure you’re alright, is what he wanted to say but within seconds of seeing you, he knew you weren’t. Yet, you still attempted to dismiss his concern with a casual shrug. “My step-uncle is taking over the tavern now.”

“Oh yeah, Cas! I have a step-uncle now and he’s so nice to me. He bought me a new coloring book and so many toys! Do you want to see?”

Cassian realized that the glaring male from the tavern must be Seraphine’s step-uncle. He caught the way you bit the inside of your cheek at your little sister’s words, sensing something more beneath the surface.

“Sure.” He replied to Seraphine.

He waited until she disappeared down the hallway to take a step closer to you. “Is everything okay?”

A fleeting moment of hesitation flickered in your eyes that you quickly concealed, hoping he didn’t notice. But he did.

"I'm fine, really. Just a bit tired but thankfully Aerik offered to step in to help.”

Despite her attempt to reassure him, Cassian couldn't shake the feeling of unease. The lines of worry etched on his face as he spoke, "You can tell me anything, you know that, right?"

“Yeah,” you nodded your head nonchalantly at him.

“Y/n.” His voice was gentle but stern and he reached out for your hands.

His fingers accidentally brushed against the bruise Aerik had left the other night and you couldn’t mask the wince that followed. Cassian stilled, eyes glancing down and widening at the marking of your skin. “Y/n, Sweetheart–”

“It’s nothing.” You were pulling your arm from his grasp and out of his view, clasping them behind your back. “I tripped and hit my arm against the counter the other night.”

Cassian felt a burning feeling in his chest, his teeth clenching. Someone had touched you--hurt you.

“Does this have anything to do with the sudden appearance of Seraphine’s uncle?”

“No.” Your response was too quick to be anything but a lie. “Aerik has been kind to us. So kind that he offered to help me find a husband.”

More lies. Your fear and anxiety grew with every passing moment that Cassian remained in Ironcrest. Kallon’s menacing warnings echoed in your mind, threatening dire consequences for both you and Cassian, if he ever returned. Since he had gone to the tavern to look for you, you were sure Aerik had seen him. Cassian was not one to easily blend into the crowd with his imposing stature, striking features and seven siphons. It was only a matter of time before he would run off to go tell Kallon.

You knew Cassian was a formidable warrior from all the gossip and tales you'd heard at the bonfire. Still, you couldn't shake your fear. Cassian was in enemy territory. Vastly outnumbered. He had to leave.

Cassian shook his head in disbelief, swallowing hard. “What?”

Stepping forward, he closed the distance between you, his intense gaze burning into your skin as you actively avoided it. “Is this what you want?”

“It’s what is best,” you told him, sidestepping his question. “So please leave. I don’t want Aerik to get the wrong idea by having you here in the house alone with me.”

“Y/N–”

“I’m so sorry, Cassian.”

Walking away, you felt your heart begin to shatter, unaware that you had also shattered his. You wiped at your eyes once you knew you were out of his view, holding your breath as you moved down the hallway. Seraphine ran past you with her coloring book and you couldn’t bring yourself to stop her.

Seraphine paused, her chest heaving as she caught up with her breath. Her lips curved into a deep frown when she spotted Cassian heading for the door. “Cas Cas, where are you going? I was going to show you my coloring book…"

"I thought you were here to stay.”

Cassian couldn’t bring himself to answer her and as young as she was, she recognized the look in his eyes. It mirrored the expression on your face before you had to deliver bad news.

“You can leave again if you want.” Seraphine said as realization dawned on her. She casted her head down.

“I’ll remember you though. I remember everyone that leaves.”

A/N: don't hate me for breaking Cas's heart. I just live for the angst 🫠 if it's any consolation, this will have a happy ending 🩷

tagging: @kemillyfreitas

#cassian x reader #cassian x you #cassian x y/n #acotar cassian #acotar imagine #cassian imagine #cassian fluff #cassian angst #acotar fluff #acotor angst #acotar x reader #cassian acotar #soy

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thegreengnome · 11 months

Note

Can you write an angst where Daemon’s wife gets very sick after giving birth to their first child.

I hope you don't mind that I changed it from their first child to their third. It just fitted better with the story. I hope you like it!

What was once a moment of joy and pride was now a moment built entirely on fear.

After birthing two children, this birth was relatively easy. While of course still painful it was quick. Quicker then the previous two.

Y/N had birthed a healthy girl, and even at this early age Y/N could tell that she would cause endless restless nights for both her mother and her father but she did not care because at that very moment all Y/N felt was love – pure love.

Her husband held the babe in his arms. His eyes never leaving his new-born daughter, perhaps he would have noted the colour slowly leaving Y/Ns face, but he was busy examining every inch of his precious daughter’s face, her tiny fingers, her tiny toes and the silver lashes above her grey eyes.

Only when the babe had finally fallen asleep from the day’s excitement did Daemon finally look towards his lady wife.

“Y/N” the colour was gone from her cheeks, her vibrant eyes now dull. In only a matter of time a sheen of sweat had covered the young mothers face and neck.

“Y/N” Daemon repeated several times more with another level of urgency to his voice. He shouted to the guards stationed outside startling the young babe from her sleep.

A flurry of people rushed into the room, guards, servants and finally the master pushing his way to the front of the room.

Daemon had never felt more useless then in that moment. He had fort in wars- killed men twice the size of him but he could easily admit that this was the most terrified he had ever been.

For the next few moments, Daemon took nothing in. his wife lay still – too still as the Maester worked around her.

She would not end up like his dear cousin Aemma – he would not allow it!

Y/N was his wife, she belonged to him no one else. Especially the gods.

The babe squired in his arms begging for his attention. The poor thing had no idea that her mother lay in her birthing bed, the Maester hovering over her.

“What is happening to muña?” the voice of Baelon squeaked from the now open door to his parents’ chambers, his young brother Aemon peeking out from behind.

Even with all three of his kids trying to gain his attention he still could not take his eyes of his wife.

He seemed to only snap out of the trance when the wight of the new-born was removed from his arms. His niece Rhaenyra had gently ushered her cousins out of the room but not before throwing her aunt a watery smile.

“My prince” nothing “My prince” Daemon moved his eyes towards the Maester taking note of the way he wrung his hands in nervousness.

“My prince. It seems the princesses has a case of birthing bed sickness”

“What does that mean?” Daemon gritted out

“The princesses will need constant care for the next couple of days, only then will we know if she will live towards the end of this time, I have given her some milk of the poppy to get her fevering down. The next few days are crucial”

“The next few days…” trailing off Daemon could see his wife’s too still body out of the corner of his eye.

“Yes, my prince. If she survives the next few days then we know that the worst is over”

“If” standing up from the chair, daemon steps closer pushing his finger into the Maesters face “There is no if... you will help my wife or you will die screaming”

Xxx

The simple movement of Y/N eyes fluttering open seem to be painful as a tired groan escapes her chapped lips.

“Thank the gods” finally in focus, Y/N took in the man sitting to the right of her. Her husband looked tried, even unhinged.

“Dae-mon “the princess attempts to lift herself up only to be stopped by her husband pushing her down gently.

“Do not move, my heart”

Pushing the hair from her face, Daemon cups Y/Ns cheeks. His thumb rubbing back and forth, soothing both the princess and the prince.

Memories seem to rush back at Y/N, the birth, the beautiful babe in her arms and then nothing “Our child. Where is she?”

“With her very doating brothers’ I would wager. They have hardly left her side”

The soft smile that graces Y/N face melts the prince’s heart. It had been far too long since he had seen it.

“You scared me”

The tears seemed to have a mind of their own as they spilled over Y/Ns face “That was not my intent, my love”

The beautiful baby girl would be their last child together as Daemon feared history repeating itself, and Y/N was right. Their daughter caused much mischief and mayhem throughout her life but she also brought more love and laughter into their family of five.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #hotd daemon #daemon targaryen #daemon targeryan #daemon targeryen x reader #hotd #alicent hightower #rhaenyra targaryen #aemond x you #daemon x you #daemon fanfic #daemon targaryen imagine #house of the dragon fanfic

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sapphire-writes · 1 year

Text

no matter what ~ Aemond Targaryen

Pairing: Aemond x fem!reader

Summary: Your daughter worries about her egg not hatching. Dad Aemond to the rescue. Cuteness & fluff.

Word Count: 0.7k

Warnings: none, pure fluff

A/N: Wanted to write some soft Aemond, let me know what you think!

update: part 2 drabble where baby girl gets her dragon 🥺

Requests are open 💚

Your daughter had been laying in front of the fireplace since returning to your chambers after supper. The usually rambunctious child was eerily calm, watching the flames lick the sides of her dragon egg.

She had been presented with an egg when she was a baby in cradle, a tradition that honors the Targaryens, hoping the egg would hatch and she would bond with the dragon inside.

Years had passed and as your daughter grew, the egg remained unopened.

You smiled softly as you watched from where you sat, a book across your belly, swollen with child yet again. From where you sat, you could not see the silent tears that rolled down your daughter's face, her eyes transfixed on the dancing flames.

The door to your chambers opened, and your husband Aemond entered. He waltzed over to you first, placing a kiss on your head before kneeling in front of you.

You smiled at your husband as he placed a hand on your stomach.

"How is our little dragon today, my love?" he asked, concern written on his face.

"Restless today, it seems," you tell him honestly, placing your hand atop his. As much as he loves seeing you pregnant with his child, Aemond detests the pain it brings you late in the pregnancy.

Aemond turned to look then at the other dragon in the room. He glances back at you, and you give him an encouraging nod.

Aemond stands, walking over to your daughter.

"Skorkydoso iksos issa byka mēre?" he asks, stroking his daughter's silver head affectionately (How is my little one?).

Your daughter sniffles, running her sleeve across her nose. Aemond sits swiftly, pulling the small girl into his lap.

"Skoros iksos pirta issa dōna hāedar?" he inquires, as she snuggles into his chest (What is wrong my sweet girl?).

"It shall never hatch," she cries, hopelessly, "I shall never have a dragon to ride." She answered in the common tongue, causing your face to fall into a sad expression. Aemond meets your eyes, his expression mirrors yours.

"Why do you say that?" Aemond asks, beginning to rock your daughter back and forth, soothing her sobs.

"I-I- heard th-that sometimes," the tears come harder, your daughter struggles to find the words between her sobs, "sometimes...it never-"

She is cut off by a small hiccup, you bring a hand to cover your lips, tears filling your eyes. You have never seen your daughter so distraught.

"Shhhh, it is alright," Aemond purrs, "do you want to hear something?"

Your daughter hiccups again, turning to look up at Aemond. Her violet eyes are large and watery, and more tears threaten to spill over.

"I did not have a dragon in cradle, nor was I a dragonrider until I was much older than you are now."

Your daughter's eyes appeared to widen, as she sat up looking at her father. Aemond smiled softly at her.

"You didn't have an egg?" she asked, sniffling. Aemond shook his head. He reached forward, wiping the tears from his daughter's reddened cheeks.

"The gods are mysterious, indeed," he began, "sometimes they place greatness in our laps, other times they wish to see what challenges we can rise to."

You smiled softly, looking at your daughter. Her full attention was on Aemond, drinking in every word he spoke. She simply adored him.

"I claimed Vhagar, and she claimed me," Aemond said, smiling at the memory. He took his daughter's hands in his.

"So perhaps your egg hatches, or perhaps it does not," he says, pursing his lips, in thought. "There is more than one way to become a dragonrider and you, my daughter, will be a dragon rider."

Your daughter smiled widely before her brow furrowed.

"What if the gods truly wish for me not to fly?" she whispers, the fear still fresh in her young mind. Aemond hums before answering.

"Your mother is not a dragonrider," he says, looking towards you, "and she is the fiercest woman in the seven kingdoms."

Your daughter giggles as you smile at your husband's kind words.

"We love you, no matter what," Aemond assures and your daughter throws her arms around his neck. Aemond hugs her tightly, and you can't stop a happy tear from falling down your cheek.

You feel so lucky for the family the gods have blessed you with.

#aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond fluff #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #prince aemond #house of the dragon aemond #hotd aemond

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klausysworld · 6 months

Note

hiii, hope you’re doing well :D

Would you be down to write a piece where Klaus is married to a human doctor or nurse and every time he comes back after a fight and is wounded, reader patches him up. And Klaus is like u know I heal. And she’s like shut up and sit. Klaus smirks and obeys as he secretly loves getting tended to by wifey.

Healing Hands

I worried for Klaus daily and nightly. Whether he was immortal or not, pain is pain.

Watching him stumble through the front door bloodied and bruised always made my heart drop. He was careless with himself, if they didn't have the white-oak stake then he didn't worry. He often reminded me that he wouldn't die even if they tore his heart out or burnt him alive.

To be honest that didn't help my fears at all.

I would always look after him after he was injured. Whether it was a couple scrapes here and there or if it was something much, much worse.

For instance, today was simply awful.

Klaus had been missing for nearly three full days when Elijah and Rebekah came in through the door, holding him up. I rushed down the stairs and helped him back up them. Once we got him onto his bed I got my bag out which was essentially a very big first aid kit with a couple extra items, like my surgical string and curved suture needles.

I looked up to find Klaus looked back at me with a small smile on his blood stained lips.

"I'm okay" he whispered raspily.

"No...you're not" I told him and he sighed softly as I opened his blood soaked shirt to expose the very slowly healing stab wounds that carved deep into his abdomen and chest.

"I just need some blood, I'll heal in seconds" he mumbled

"Then I'll put you on a blood drip" I remarked while gently running antiseptic wipes over his wounds, trying not to let his wincing bother me.

"Love-"

"Just be quiet Nik" I whispered "Just let me help"

"okay" he murmured softly, giving in rather quickly which was more and more common recently. I gave a small smile back to him before continuing to carefully stitch him up where he should need it.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(switch to 3rd person)

He kept still, his eyes closing as he felt her healing hands caress him better.

Klaus would never admit how much he secretly enjoyed her tending to him. It always reminded him of how much she loved him. No matter what was wrong, she was right there with bandages and wipes to help sooth his hurt.

Usually it was accompanied by a warm bath afterwards, her bare body against his while she traced the places where wounds once were. She would proceed to kiss each spot and then, at last, his lips. Then he would thank her quietly to which she would simply dismiss and once more tell him to be quiet so she could 'treat' him in another way.

By the time they're out of the water, they're probably dirtier than when they got in but neither one of them could care once they were curled up together again.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Back to 1st)

I had my head on his chest, tilted back to gaze up at him. My fingertips danced patterns across his broad chest while his brushes against my scalp.

The room was dark, the curtains closed and door locked. A comfortable silence had been around us for a good while now, our love for one-another always lingered in the air and both our eyes seemed to grow tired as we looked deep into each other.

His rough yet quiet voice broke the quiet but I didn't mind.

"I'm sorry I was gone for so long" he whispered and I smiled softly.

"It wasn't you fault...I'm sorry I wasn't much use in finding you" I always felt a little helpless when it came to saving people. Being a human my skills weren't ever helpful. I tried of course but I would never be as strong or intelligent as those who have lived for centuries.

"I never want you to spend restless nights looking for me. You must know by now that I will always come back to you alive, and you will always be here waiting I hope." His hand stroked the skin of my face making my lashes flutter as I nodded

"I'll always be here, I'll always look after you" I promised. I feel his forehead press to mine, the soft curls of top his head which have grown a little long tickle my face gently.

"And I you sweetheart" he smiled and so did I

"I love you Niklaus" I whispered quietly, kissing his cheek gently

"I love you more, my little nurse"

(Sorry this is so short)

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sinfulpanda16 · 6 months

Text

Breaking The Ice

Shoto Todoroki x fem reader

A/n: Characters are aged up

You and Todoroki never argued. There's was never anything to argue about. He loved you and you him. You trusted him and him you. Throughout all those years you two have been together, from being boyfriend and girlfriend in UA to being husband and wife, fights have never been an issue.

Enji Todoroki has always been an issue though. He never approved of you in fact you're sure he hates you. Todoroki says he does not care what he thinks but there are times where it doesn't seem that way. Your huge fight was about that, the disrespect you get.

You both said shit you didn't mean. It sounds so cliché but its true. Anger is a powerful emotion that makes you do and say stupid shit. He called you a pain in the ass for thinking he sides with his father, and you called him weak for not being able to put him in his place. So, with that for the past two days there's been a thick atmosphere when you guys are together.

You guys are married and you work along side him at his agency. You're together 24/7. The tension was always there and neither of you did anything to break it.

Even the number 1 hero, Deku, felt so uneasy when he walked into Shoto's office happily only to be met with an atmosphere thicker than quicksand. Apparently, there's been a villain on the lose for the past few days and there's difficulty tracking him and taking him down. They need both you and your husband to help with the situation. You both agree and thank Midoriya and then go back to doing paperwork.

That night and for the last two its just been eating in silence for dinner, doing your nightly routines alone, and wishing each other a cold "good night" before falling asleep. How long will this last?

The next day, you both go off to work to finish your paperwork and then go out to patrol the city in hopes to capture this villain. There hasn't been any sightings of him for a while and the city has been growing restless for this. You yourself didn't like that this villain still hasn't been caught and is running lose like a dog. You're sure Todoroki also hates the situation as much as you do. You both don't say much to each other, but you've learned to read his face and body language.

Before long the sun begins to fall and the stars start to shine. You and Todoroki are headed back to his agency. You're walking behind him its officially been three days since you both had that nasty fight. You look up at him, his half red half white hair blowing in the wind and his broad shoulders moving back and forth with every step he takes. You miss him, you wish you could just go back in time and prevent this avoidance from ever happening.

You sigh and muster up the courage to tell him how sorry you are but before you could do anything he stops walking causing to you to stop in your tracks. You're confused why did he stop out of nowhere?

"Shoto? Are you ok?" you ask quite worried.

Shoto turns around to look at you. Your (e/c) eyes looking back at his. It's been a while since Shoto has seen them under the moonlight. He turns his full body towards you. "Y/N" he says apologetically.

Out of nowhere there's an explosion behind you. causing the city to cry and scream in fear. You both turn to look at the cause of the explosion. There he is the villain who's been disrupting the lives of the innocent. He's covered in straps full of bombs for weapons and takes a little one off his belt. He laughs manically and throws it a child who's crying in fear. You however, thanks to your speed, were able to get the child out of harms way and get him to his mother. Where they run safe.

That was a child! Oh, now he's in for it! You've always had hatred for those who harm children. You speed off toward the villain and begin to attack him with your strength. Todoroki caught on and also began sending ice attacks to the villain. You and your husband have always made a great team, you distract the enemy (sometimes land a few good hits) while he burns them up or freezes them or does both even.

You guys had things under control but the suddenly he disappears. An invisibility quirk! That's why he's been so damn hard to track! Now you break in a sweat. Invisible people have always been difficult to fight against they can easily attack out of nowhere. You stay alert and sure enough the villain sends a punch your way from behind, but you were fast enough to block it with a force field. However, the pressure from his punch sends you flying back and causes you to hit one of Todoroki's ice walls. You land on your back hard resulting in a crater being made in the ice and you falling unconscious. Your vision becomes blurry, and you fall down to the ground.

The villain groans "Stupid bitch." to your unconscious body and walks away.

Todoroki saw the whole thing happen with wide eyes. You laying down hurt brought flashbacks of his mother laying on the ground after his father hurt her. His damn father. He looked at the villain who's back was facing him. The villain had the same built as his father. Then he looks back at you. He hurt you and now he is furious!

"Hey!" Todoroki says clearly adding anger to his tone. The villain turns to look back at him with blue eyes. The blue eyes that are the exact same as his father. A flashback of Enji Todoroki disrespecting you came back to Todoroki. That bastard!

"NO ONE!" he yells and sets fire on the villain's right arms causing the bombs to blow up, making the villain scream in agony.

Todoroki's teeth are gritted hard. "DISREPECTS!" he yells setting the villains other arm on fire causing the bombs on that arm to go off.

The villain is about to run away but Todoroki wastes no fucking time. With one final breath he yells at the top of his lungs "MY WIFE!!" and with that he sets the villains whole body on fire causing to bombs to explode on him.

There is smoke everywhere, the villain is still standing in it but not for long when Todoroki appears with his Ice and freezes the damn villain. The fucking villain that has hurt so many innocent people including his wife.

Then it's over.

You open your eyes and see that Todoroki has handled the situation. You sit up with a hurt head. The scenario in front of you shows just how strong Todoroki is. The whole scene was due to Todoroki defending you and speak of the devil there he is making his way towards you.

"My love! Are you alright?" he asks crouching down to holding you.

You lay you head on his chest "Yes, I'm ok don't worry" you smile. Todoroki smiles back at you before picking you up bridal style to help you get to the paramedics while giving you a kiss to your forehead.

Afterwards, you were able to go home from the hospital and Todoroki has taken good care of you the entire time. He's been treating you like you were royalty or something. Like, it's not that unusual but recently he's been acting like he would die if he didn't treat you like so.

He comes into your shared bedroom with a comb in his hands. He's smiling and sits next to you "I got it, now, turn around my love." You do as your told and he begins brushing your hair gently.

He continues to brush your hair for a while, both of you sitting in comfortable silence before you finally begin to speak. "Shoto, I'm really sorry about how I treated you the other day." you say causing your husband to stop.

You continue "You're not weak. That's not what you are at all and that is proven by how you handled that villain attack." You think about how you passed out during the fight, how maybe Enji Todoroki is probably right, and tears begin to fall. You speak with a shaky voice "Maybe your father-"

"No"

No? He repositions you to face him and holds both your hands. He looks in your eyes "Listen to me, I don't care what my old man says or thinks. I love you so much and if he never approves then he can suffer for all I care." He wipes away your tears before continuing to speak "My love, I'm so sorry for calling you a pain in the ass you are far from being that you're my beautiful princess, and I'm also sorry not sticking up for you the way I should've." The scene of you landing on his ice comes back to him. "Believe me when I say I will never let anyone disrespect you ever again. Ok?" You're shedding more tears but Todoroki smiles and wipes those away too. "You deserve the best my love." he say holding your face.

"Thank you." is all you say before you lean into him for a kiss to which he happily returns.

#todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto x reader #shoto todoroki x you #todoroki x y/n #shoto todoroki #todoroki shoto x y/n #todoroki x you #mha x reader #mha todoroki #bnha x reader #bnha #bnha todoroki x you #shoto x you #todoroki shouto #my hero academia #buko no hero academia #fanfic

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lexsssu · 5 months

Text

Beast (Dion Agriche)

TAGS: Dion/Dragoness!reader, pining, pervy thoughts, breeding, oneshot Ao3 ver. | Ko-fi | Commissions (OPEN)

This place felt…sad.

The towering manse was objectively magnificent and yet an air of gloom seemed to envelop the very air that passed through the exquisite halls. Though perhaps it could be attributed to the unmistakable metallic scent that hung heavily within almost every corner of the estate.

Whether it was the main courtyard, the gardens, or from deeper within, the darkness that settled over the entire structure was like a shroud of death that beckoned victims to fall into the sweet embrace of oblivion. It’s only through luck however, that they can either meet a swift end or a drawn out and miserable one.

Judging from the melancholic or downright pained expressions upon the ghostly specters that roamed the area, it’s safe to say that this was a place of great suffering and tragedy. None of the actual living occupants could see them, most especially that man whose soul harbored an impressive amount of corruption for a human. No matter how many angry spirits clung to him in hopes of dragging his soul straight out of his body in order to enact their just revenge, each death done or ordered by his hand only seemed to further the taint.

It’s almost as if he drew power from the lives he’d stolen.

He wasn’t the only one who attracted the attention of the restless souls. The man’s children who tried to follow in his footsteps also had a trail of bodies before them even before they could be called adults. Even one of his wives, a seemingly spritely woman with doll-like features, took lives as easily as getting rid of unpleasant pests.

In conclusion, this family is as cursed as the land they had stained with rivers of blood over the years.

Much to your surprise however, not every Agriche shared a penchant for senseless murder. One of the eldest living daughters (Roxana) only had a single ghost following her and even then, the ghostly image of the teen boy didn’t seem to want to tear her limb from limb like all the others. Rather, he followed after her much like a puppy who only wanted to keep up with her pace. Sadly, the blonde never seemed to take notice of the boy who bore remarkably similar features with her even as he tried to reach his hand out to touch her.

For she lives within the plane of the living, while he now resided in between life and death, unable to move on due to regrets or some other unfinished business you didn’t know of.

The question is…are you content with staying as a mere observer?

The blonde youth perks up the moment he realizes you can see him, sheer relief brimming from every pore within his spectral body when you speak your first words to him. He is rich with the secrets Lante Agriche fights tooth and nail to prevent from ever seeing the light of day.

A lonely boy becomes lonely no more and a displaced dragoness finds that becoming lost wasn’t too bad when you have good company around you.

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

Dion doesn’t dream.

Considering the amount of blood that stained his rough hands, it is better that he only descends into nothingness whenever he rests his eyes, for one could only imagine what horrors lay in wait to torment him for all the atrocities he’d committed. He’s not afraid of the ghosts of his victims, but rather finds it useless to think of flames that had already been snuffed out when they could no longer influence the living in any way.

But then something changes.

He feels a soft, warm touch that gently traces the length of his nose, cups the sharp angles of his face, and even delves into his dark locks. Though his eyes remain closed, his own subconscious supplies him with the image of hands much smaller than his own large ones that poked and prodded at him without fear.

While he would have caught the appendages and mayhaps stuck a knife into anyone who decided to lay their hands upon him, Dion knows that this could only be a dream because who would even dare to caress him so gingerly in the middle of night within the Agriche’s own manor? If anything, he finds his dreamself to commit to memory the feeling of such a gentle touch being bestowed upon him, because rationally he knows that he has no need for softness. In the confines of his own subconscious however, he supposes that he can allow himself this at the very least.

When he wakes up at the crack of dawn, it is to open windows with its blinds fluttering as the morning breeze makes its way to his room, bringing with it not just the familiar scent of iron that seemed to permanently surround the place he’d grown up in.

Though he cares not for flowers specifically, he does have knowledge on their practical uses such as poisons and the like. He also prefers knowing the native flora and fauna of the hunting grounds he’d be thrown into in order to get a better grasp of the terrain.

Blooming honeysuckles make his brows furrowed in confusion despite his stone-cold exterior, confused as to how and why such a scent overpowered the ever present iron tang in the air.

Curiouser and curiouser.

Dion remains oblivious to the shared laughter between a woman with ivory in her hair and a boy whose eyes reflected the deep, bright expanse of the open sky as they watched him stick his head out of his windows to locate the origin of the oddity.

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

“YOU...”

“...Me?”

Dion feels his body practically burning from the inside-out, his heart beating several miles per minute as he finally gets a good look of the poltergeist that haunts his nights. He remembers the tender touches you press against his skin, the warm caresses that leave him gasping for breath and his loins aching for sweet release by the time he’s released from your clutches once dawn has broken.

He does not need your sweetness.

He has no use for your gentleness.

And yet he craves it.

He has never desired anything.

He has never felt so strongly about anything other than the swish of his blade, the gurgling of his victims, and the blood splattered against the ground as another mark of his martial prowess.

And yet you drove him to become more of a feral beast than he ever was as he now wished for nothing else other than to possess your whole being just as you possessed him without even meaning to.

“...are MINE”

Your surprised squeak is music to his ears, the flush on your cheeks pleasing the beast that sought to have you pressed down on the ground and taken ruthlessly, flooding your fertile womb with his virile seed...

To be continued(?)

#lexsssu writes #the way to protect the female lead's older brother #dion agriche #dion agriche x reader #dion agriche x you #dion agriche x y/n #deon agrece #deon agrece x reader

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jenosbliss · 5 months

Note

hihi!! i love how u write the dreamies 💝 yk how people talk abt having a third place? could u write about how theyre ur third place please? (if that makes sense!!)

thank u if u do this!

🍯 ⌇nct dream ! being your third place

paining. gn!reader x nctdream | genre. fluff | wc. 926 | warnings. none

MARK.

Mark wasn't the first boy to make your heart skip a beat, nor the one who ignited the wildfire of first love. He was like the sunrise after a restless night, the warmth of a shared cup of coffee in the morning.

His love wasn't a fireworks display, but a slow burn, a steady support that kept you cosy even on the coldest days. He was the shoulder to cry on, the hand to hold when the world felt like it was spinning too fast.

Mark challenged you, pushed you to be your best self, even when you didn't believe in yourself. But beneath the driven exterior, there was a boy who loved fiercely, who wrote you clumsy poems and tucked wildflowers behind your ear. He was your cheerleader, your rock, your third place that felt a whole lot like first.

RENJUN.

Renjun wasn't the sun that blazed across your sky, but the moon that bathed your world in a soft, ethereal glow. His love was like a whispered melody woven from moonlight and starlight.

Renjun understood your silences, the unspoken worries that danced in your eyes. He could read your every mood in the curve of your smile, the tremor in your fingers. Hewas the confidante you never knew you needed, the one who listened without judgement, who offered solace with a gentle touch and a shared secret.

With Renjun, love wasn't a display, but a whispered promise, a bond of forever. He was the calm after the storm, a simple poem, your third place that felt like a whisper of forever.

JENO.

Jeno wasn't the wind that swept you off your feet, but the steady breeze that kept you grounded. He was the boy who held your hand through the darkness, his quiet strength a beacon in the unknown.

Jeno didn't need grand gestures to express his love. It was in the way he helped you carry groceries, the way he chased away your nightmares with a silent presence, the way he held your gaze. He was the quiet hero, the knight in shining armour who didn't need a parade.

With Jeno, love was a slow, steady burn, a fire that kept you warm from the inside out. He was the rock you could lean on, the lighthouse guiding you home, your third place that felt like an unbreakable promise.

HAECHAN.

Haechan wasn't the star that brightened your universe, but the playful comet that streaked across your sky, leaving a trail of laughter and stardust.

Haechan’s love was like sunshine and confetti, a melody that made you want to dance in the rain. He was the boy who turned every day into an adventure, who chased away your blues with a goofy grin and a contagious giggle.

Haechan taught you how to find joy in the little things, to laugh until your sides ached, to embrace the chaos with open arms. He was the reminder to never lose your inner child, to chase your dreams with reckless abandon, your third place that felt like a never-ending summer.

JAEMIN.

Jaemin wasn't the fairytale prince you swooned over, but the boy next door who held your hand under the streetlights. His love was a slow bloom, a promise written in shy glances and stolen kisses.

Jaemin was the one who made you believe in happily ever afters, who whispered sweet nothings in your ear under the starlit sky.He was the best friend who turned into something more, the shoulder to cry on who became your kiss in the rain.

Jaemin knew your favourite ice cream flavour, your deepest fears, the way your eyes sparkled when you were truly happy. He was the one who saw the beauty in your flaws, who cherished you for who you were, your third place that felt like falling in love all over again.

CHENLE.

Chenle wasn't the one who stole your breath away, but the one who poured you with impromptu tunes, his laughter filling the air like scattered notes. He was the sunshine after a thunderstorm, the sprinkle of sugar on a rainy day.

It was in the way Chenle hummed your favourite song while doing the dishes, the way he taught you silly dance moves in the kitchen, the way his eyes crinkled with mischief when he caught you off guard.

Chenle was the reminder to find joy in the simple things, to laugh until your stomach hurt, to dance like nobody was watching (even when they were). With him, love was like a pop song stuck on repeat, catchy and unforgettable. He was your third place that felt like an endless karaoke night, your heart forever warmed by the echoes of his laughter.

JISUNG.

Jisung’s love was a spark of electric energy, a playful banter that kept you on your toes. He was the one who challenged you to rap battles in the grocery store, who wrote you poems as funny as they were sweet, who could turn any dull moment into a cherished and beautiful one.

Jisung didn't shy away from expressing his feelings, but did it in his own unique way. He wrote you songs, baked you cookies shaped like hearts with funny uneven icing, told you you were beautiful with a smirk and a wink.

With Jisung, love wasn't a slow burn, but a firework display, each moment an explosion of laughter, joy and passion .He was the spark that ignited your own, the energy that propelled you forward, He was your third place that felt like a nonstop roller coaster ride.

a/n. hii anon i hope this is what you expected and Tysm for requesting 💖

navigation.

masterlist. nct dream | nct 127 | wayv

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virtualreader · 11 months

Text

a moment to bond

rickgrimesxfem!reader

summary: you fail in your attempt of hiding your injury from Rick, but you soon regret not to have failed sooner.

word count: 2,1k

genre: angsty fluff (?)

warnings: blood, wounds, passionate kiss (is that even a warning?), angry Rick.

a/n: English is not my first language, so my writing may not be the best. this is also not proof read, so don't be surprised if you find any mistakes. enjoy!

two months had passed since you first crossed the gates of alexandria, and two months since the last time you’d been face-to-face with a walker. or so it was until this morning.

despite your best efforts, you could not relax; your restlessness was not something you could easily shake off. as someone who has suffered from anxiety all their life, you knew exactly what it felt like to be overrun by frightful thoughts, even though they had never felt as distressing as they felt today.

it was comforting to sleep in a real bed and to have tall walls shielding you and your group from the alarming risks of the new world, but what if becoming accustomed to this pleasant sense of security was only making you weaker? what if your people were forced to live in the outside again? the fear this potential outcome caused was too much for you to bear and your friends’ efforts to console you were unsuccessful.

that's when you chose to take matters into your own hands. your original plan was to leave the walled area, take out a few roamers for practice, and then return to Alexandria. however, destiny seemed to have different plans for you. what was initially thought to be a few walkers quickly became a dozen. a dozen walkers you were now attempting to flee from.

suddenly, a rock blocked your way and you tumbled to the ground, scraping your exposed forearm on the sharp edge of the stone you landed on.

blood poured from your freshly-cut gash, making you even more anxious than before. you clenched your teeth in pain, hoping that the dead would not hear your groans. after the walkers had disappeared from your view, you rummaged through your bag to see if you could find anything to use as a bandage. however, to your dismay, all you found was a water bottle and a spare knife.

you looked around for any other resources, but the barren landscape provided few options. as you weighed your choices, you realized that ripping off a piece of your tattered t-shirt was the only option. you gritted your teeth and reached for the hem of your shirt, slowly tearing off a piece of fabric to use as a makeshift bandage.

you then wrapped the strip of fabric tightly around the wound, wincing from the pain. you knew it wasn't an ideal solution, but it would have to do for now. you stood up, feeling a bit more stable, and looked around to see where you could go next.

as you stumbled through the dilapidated woods, your vision blurred and hazy, you couldn't help but question your decision to leave the safety of the walls.

the dizziness you felt only made things worse, and you began to wonder if Rick was right after all. perhaps you were simply too weak to survive in this harsh new world. as you trudged forward, you couldn't shake the feeling that danger lurked around every corner and that you were ill-prepared for whatever lay ahead.

despite your doubts, however, you knew that you must keep moving if you wanted to stay alive.

against all odds, you made it to the Alexandria safe zone, which definitely made you relax a bit. however, you still had to enter the walls without being seen. you also needed to take a shower and change clothes to erase any trace of the horrors that you had endured on your way to the comunity.

you didn't want anyone to find out what had happened to you. but even as you stripped off your blood-stained garments and let the warm water wash away the grime and sweat of your journey, you knew that the scars on your psyche would take much longer to heal.

you had managed satisfactorily to keep your little accident a secret throughout the day, in spite of your giddiness and the weakened you were in.

it was now dinnertime, and you realized that you hadn't spent much quality time with Rick lately. you had joined the group after the fall of the prison, and Rick was the only one you had gotten close to.

he had been distant from you for some time, and you didn't want to lose your only friend. therefore, you decided that tonight would be the perfect opportunity to try and bond with him.

you decided that you would cook for him and his children, which would give you a chance to talk and catch up on things. you thought that this would be a great way to strengthen your friendship, and you hoped that it would also help to improve your relationship with the other members of the group. after all, a strong sense of community was essential for survival in this post-apocalyptic world.

from the kitchen, one could observe Carl lounging on the living room couch. the room was quiet, except for the sound of the pages of the comic book that Carl's father had brought home on his most recent trip turning. Carl's legs were crossed over the small coffee table, and his hands were holding the comic book with great interest.

the dim evening light that illuminated the room barely allowed to distinguish Rick’s serene face as he was holding the younger grimes in his arms.

"what are you cooking tonight?" his gaze was fixed on you, studying your facial expressions as you cut a carrot.

“squirrel and roasted vegetables. I’d have used rabbit, but this is all Dary could find today.”

“it’s fine, I don’t really mind your culinary election as long as we get to spend some time together.” the now beardless man smiled at you.

“that's so cheesy of you, Grimes.” he chuckled at your comment.

he remained quiet for a moment, making you feel as if he could see right through your t-shirt's sleeve. oh, no. you suddenly remembered that you had rolled up your long sleeves so they wouldn't interfere with chopping vegetables, leaving your bandaged arm visible to Rick's worried gaze.

“is that blood?” he inquired.

you continued with your activity not even taking your eyes off the chopping board.

Rick handed the little Judith to her elder brother, instructing him to go upstairs. the tension in the kitchen became now palpable. it was like when you were a child and you got caught doing something wrong, and you knew you were going to get a lecture.

or so you thought.

“I’m fine. it’s only a scratch.”

“don’t tell me you’re fine, you’re bleeding!” he guided you to the couch Carl was previously in, making you sit down.

he disappeared for a moment and then returned with a first aid kit in his hands.

“let me see.” anger was obvious in his voice.

you did not even dare to look him in the eye. it was well known within the group that it was a big mistake to piss off the leader. Rick undid your messy and bloody bandage. you winced at the burning feeling of the air touching your wound.

“how did this happen? did someone hurt you?” he asked still examining your arm.

“NO! not at all! it was an accident. I- uh…” at this point, it was useless to lie to him. after all is said and done, he used to be a cop before all this happened. “I fell running from a few walkers this morning.”

“you what?! I believe I told you not to go outside the walls! It’s dangerous y/n, there are too many threats out there.” the anger previously visible was replaced by another emotion you couldn’t decipher.

Rick kept a white-knuckled grip on the dirty piece of fabric that was minutes ago covering your large gash, his other hand gently holding your wrist.

you hadn’t taken a moment to contemplate the magnitude of the injury until now. to say the least, it was huge. it started a few inches below your elbow and it went all over your forearm to your wrist.

“why do you even care? I’m not your child, Rick.”

“I care ‘cause you’re as much of my family as Carl and Judith are. and I don’t want to lose my family.” he spoke, his voice getting lower as he pronounced the last sentence. “why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

your frustration with Rick's recent behavior boiled over and you couldn't help but voice your annoyance.

"you've got to be kidding me," you almost whispered, incredulous. "maybe it's because you're too busy trying to impose your will on everyone else here, or maybe it's because you spend the little free time you have left admiring that hairdresser's features. but the fact remains that you haven't been there for me lately, and it's starting to feel like I'm losing my only friend in this world."

your words hung heavy in the air, and you could feel the tension between you and Rick palpably. as you looked at him, you could see the hurt in his eyes, and you almost regretted saying anything.

you sighed deeply, feeling humiliated in the face of the seriousness of the problem that had just been brought to your attention by the expression written on Rick’s face.

you began to wonder how you had let things get to this point and what you could have done differently to avoid this situation. perhaps if you had been more proactive in addressing the issue earlier, things wouldn't have come to a head like this.

"there's nothing humiliating about needing help once in a while, sweetheart,” Rick spoke softly, breaking the silence that had settled in the room. he continued to bandage your arm, his touch gentle and careful. "I'm sorry I haven't been there for you lately. but you have to understand that I'm just trying to keep everyone safe. and as for Jessie... it's not what you think. I'm just trying to move on from everything that's happened."

you nodded, feeling guilty for your outburst. "I know, Rick. I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have said that."

"It's okay," he said, finishing up with the bandage. "just promise me that you won't go out alone again. we'll go together next time, okay?"

"okay," you agreed, feeling grateful for his concern.

he put away the first aid kit, but he didn't even threaten to get up. both of you remained in your previous position, awkwardly eyeing each other. in moments like this your small bad habit made act of presence.

you could feel the stinging sensation your teeth left in your lip, making you aware that you had been biting your lip for a while. you knew it was an unhealthy habit, still, you frequently found yourself unconsciously doing it.

“if you bite your lip one more time I’m gonna do it for you.” the atmosphere in the room suddenly changed, lust present in the man’s face.

as you fixed your gaze on the charming features of the man, you couldn't help but notice the way his hair fell over his face, almost obscuring his handsome features. you observed a drop of sweat slide down his forehead. his eyes seemed to denote a sense of tiredness, reflecting how hard he works to maintain the security of the Alexandrians.

you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you were about to do. you mustered all your courage and leaned forward. you gave him a peck on the lips to test the waters. you had liked him since the very first moment you met him. the way he carried himself, with authority, which revealed his past as a police officer, drove you crazy.

you pulled back, heart racing as you waited for his reaction. for a moment everything seemed to freeze as you looked at each other, unsure of what to say or do. but then, slowly he leaned in and kissed you back, his lips soft and gentle against yours.

his big calloused hands danced against your neck, pulling you even closer. the intensity of the kiss kept escalating, each movement more passionate than the last. it was as if you were both desperate to feel each other's love, to experience the connection that only the two of you shared.

as the kiss deepened, you felt a warmth in your chest that you hadn't felt in a while. as you pulled away you couldn’t help but think how much you needed this moment of intimacy to make you feel alive. perhaps this was a sign that everything was going to be okay after all.

#rick grimes x reader smut #rick grimes x reader fluff #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes fluff #rick grimes #rick grimes x female reader #rick grimes fanfiction #twd x reader

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