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#who assaulted his mATe
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Saying Batman hits his kids and all his other abusive tendencies only exist because people want to use them as “tropes” to woobify his children is not like…the good take you think it is
It’s important to me that you all know that. It’s not actually bad, an ‘incorrect reading of the text’ or ‘only acknowledging bad writing’ when people want to talk about how Bruce’s actions can actually severely effect those around him.
It’s also important to me that you all know that while maybe a parent hitting their adult child may not count as child abuse because the child is no longer a kid, it does; however, still count as assault, battery, and can even be considered domestic abuse if their living or staying at the manor at the time it happens and is still very, very bad and not okay
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justmaghookit · 2 months
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To protect their identities I will not be posting images of the victims.
Yesterday a 45 year old white man took it upon himself to do a "citizens arrest" wherein he physically restrained three blak kids, binding their wrists together with zip ties and then binding them to each other. The children were aged 6, 7 and 8. They had gone swimming in the pool of a vacant property which is currently for sale, you know, regular kid stuff.
The perpetrator is not the owner of the property, allegedly he is a tradesman who was called to work on the air conditioning in the property and took great personal issue with three kids taking a cheeky swim on a blistering summers day. The man then called the police to report trespassing.
You know you've fucked up when so called australia's famously racist cops rock up on the scene and go "what the fuck mate." even the WA police commissioner was able to find a shred of empathy in his cold dead heart to call the scene "disturbing"
The children were attended by an ambulance and there has been no reports of injuries, though I suspect they're deeply traumatized by the experience, if the images of them sobbing are anything to go by.
The man has been arrested and is facing three counts of aggravated assault.
As I was making sure I had my information correct writing this post I saw a lot of white folks on twitter asking where the parents were, how they wouldn't let their kids do this, how its still trespassing blah blah blah, regular entitled white racist nonsense.
I was once a cheeky kid myself, and more than once I hopped a fence to go swimming in the neighbours pool while they weren't home alongside my siblings, but I'm white, so I'm allowed the luxury of kids will be kids. These were just children, innocent little bubs who just wanted to cool down in the suffocating heat. They were punished for the crime of daring to be children while blak.
It just goes to show just how deeply racism against indigenous people is still rooted in our society.
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celestialwhoree · 3 months
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Ex bf!Simon🖤✬
You're still close. Both mature adults, and you know him better than anyone - he can't lose you, can't stand the thought of letting go of the one person who understands him better than anyone.
When he comes back from deployment and you practically beg him to come to this new club in town with you, he almost says no, really really wants to say no, but when you look at him with saucer wide eyes and a little pleading squeeze to his hand, he agrees to pick you up at nine. Tells you to wear something pretty. He knows you always look pretty, really, but he can't help but miss being able to show you off.
When he picks you up on his black YZF R1, sees you standing there on the sidewalk, he has to adjust his seat on the bike with how embarrassingly hard he gets at just the sight of you all dressed up for him.
"I thought you'd bring the truck." You whine as he hands you his 'spare' helmet that he actually just bought with you in mind. Simon gives you an affectionate little pat on the thigh when you slide on the bike behind him, unable to stop your dress from rucking practically to your hips, the thin lace of your panties inadvertently brushing against his lower back, the worn leather of his belt inconveniently pressing into your clit and you try to think of anything but how wet it's making you. "Traffic's bad tonight, can get there faster on this." He explains, muffled by his helmet.
He keeps a hand on your thigh the whole way there, just like he did when you were together, claimed that it reassured him you were still there, still safe.
Walking into the club is an assault on your senses, and you involuntarily curl into his side as he guides you to the bar, a hand snaking around your waist to settle protectively on your hip, thumb caressing the slightly raised line of your underwear without realising how much it riles you up.
Simon easily manoeuvres you over to the bar, one hand on you at all times, keeping you with him, keeping you safe. He calls his drink order to the bartender over the heavy thump of the music before giving your side a little pinch to pull your attention back to him' "Did you say something?" You hum as you're pulled from your daze. "What d'ya want to drink, baby?" The sound of the music obscures the old pet name that comes out in moments like this where the line in the sand between you is blurred by loud music and the comfort of his hands on your body. "Moscow Mule."
He keeps you tightly to his side as much as possible, occasionally grabbing you by the pressure point in the back of your neck when you get distracted and wander off.
Simon lets you have your fun - until some sleazy bloke who looks like trouble has his hands on your hips, grinding your ass into his pelvis with a smug grin, thinking he's got you hooked. "Hands off, mate." Simon grunts into his ear, a hand snaking around your front, settling on your navel as he pulls your back to his front, and when you turn to look indignantly up at him, he leans his head down to speak directly in your ear. "He was minging, baby." And goes on to soothe you like a petulant child when you go to complain about being able to make decisions for yourself. "Didn't see 'im lookin' at you the way I did, yeah? Just trying to protect my girl."
⋆。‧₊°♱༺𓆩❦︎𓆪༻♱༉‧₊˚.
meant for this to be a drabble but I'm alr thinking about NSFW pt2. Feeling slutty!!!
💕🎀
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catullansparrowlet · 1 year
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Upon forced reflection I might be a very occasional extravert, as in: I greatly enjoy social interaction during breaks at uni and derive energy from it when at work with customers, but I get very easily overwhelmed when people text me and I seriously wish people wouldn't.
Why forced reflection, you ask? My colleague sent me a text again and I've been a nervous wreck since. Munching on my bicycle key to try and keep from breaking down in the library.
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obsessivevoidkitten · 5 months
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Wrongful Imprisonment
Male Alpha Yandere Prisoner x Omega Male Reader CW: Noncon, imprisonment, prison setting, knotting, mating cycles, a/b/o, rut/heat, knotting, size difference, ass eaten like it's groceries, general yandere behavior Word Count: 2k (Sorry this took so long.)
You never thought you would find yourself in prison. But there you were. Locked away in a minimum security facility.
You were innocent. When your home was raided you had no idea there were drugs there. Your boyfriend at the time had put all the blame on you to escape punishment.
What's worse was that you were an omega sentenced to a mixed facility full of alphas. Since male omegas were so rare no one bothered to make separate facilities for them.
They forcefully drugged away your heats to the best of their ability but the meds had side effects on your mood and gave you dizzy spells. And they weren't perfect. Even without a heat a faint scent of omega peaked through. During heats it was a bit more pronounced.
To some of the alphas who had been there for years it was enough to get their interest. And they were not men whose interest you wanted.
It was terrifying. The cells had no doors so you were in constant fear that you'd wake up with a rapist over you.
The guards were no help. You did your best to avoid all of the alphas of ill intent for as long as you could manage it, but one time you were cornered.
They had followed you in from the yard and crept up behind you. You flailed, scratched, and bit but they didn't take your struggles well and beat you until you stopped fighting.
You could hear them snickering as one slammed his knee into your gut before giving you two brutal punches to the face. You doubled over in pain, your nose bloody and tears cascading down your swollen face.
"Just be a good cock sleeve and stay still"
You felt your pants being yanked down to your knees.
"Look at how tight it's pussy is!"
You prepared for the worst, unable to eek out any pleas over your ragged sobs of hurt and fear.
But the worst never happened. Instead you heard growling followed by hisses and cries of pain.
Your pants were pulled up and you were helped onto your shaky feet.
In front of you stood a sweaty mountain of a man. He was about your age. Tan skin and red hair. All muscle. Probably spent every free moment lifting weights.
Which wasn't really true. Lately he also spent a lot of time watching you from a distance. Trying to get to know the one who's scent called to him so strongly despite the suppressants.
"Th-tha-th-" You tried to mutter a thanks, but your assault and near rate had sent you into a full panic attack.
"Shhh, don't try to talk. It's okay."
His green eyes stared into yours as he inspected your facial injuries. Nothing was broken.
He gently led you back to his doorless cell. The cells had a lot of traffic. You were a bit nervous but you were more scared to be alone and if he had wanted to hurt you he could have.
At least, that's what you had thought. Though you were completely unaware of how badly he wanted to bend you over and fill your body full of his seed. Unlike the brutes from before though he at least wanted you to moan and cling to him while he did it.
He introduced himself and you managed to return the courtesy once your sobs had lessened.
His name was Lance.
And over the months you spent in prison the two of you had become very close.
He kept you within his sight at all times and made sure you were safe. The two of you even managed to have it arranged where you could share the same cell so he could protect you at night and prevent you from getting a bad roommate.
Lance also rubbed all your clothes every morning on him so they had his scent to keep you safe.
The alpha even had the idea to give you a claiming bite just to make sure no one would try anything.
You allowed him to do so, you didn't think it meant anything. In fact, he had reassured you that it hadn't. It was just another measure to protect you.
Of course that wasn't how the alpha saw it at all. Even though he hadn't bed you he considered you his mate. And really, if anything, the fact you were so naïve about it only proved that he was taking the correct course of action.
You were too trusting and soft. That's how you had ended up there in the first place. That's why those vermin tried to get their unworthy hands on you.
You were his mate. Even if you didn't know it yet. You needed him.
And he needed you too. Your scent and personality drove him to keep you safe. So kind. A perfect mate for him. You were the only light in his otherwise miserable existence. To say that you were as essential as oxygen to him would be an understatement.
And after he saved you from those lesser alphas his instincts screamed that he owned you. He had won you in a physical contest.
The alpha just had to calm himself down and be patient. He would get you gradually. He was confident he was almost there.
Until you got the news that you were being released early because new evidence had come to light.
Lance feigned joy at the news.
"I am glad... a place like this really isn't for a person like you..."
"Yeah! And now I won't have to be such a burden to you anymore either! Thanks for helping me so much Lance, you're a great friend. I'll miss you."
Inwardly Lance wanted to go on a rampage. His mate was being taken away from him! He wouldn't be able to protect you. Someone might try to hurt you and touch you with hands unworthy of your skin.
The mere thought filled him with unbridled anger.
Lance knew what he had to do.
/////////
It had been just a couple months since your release and you were adjusting about as well as could be expected for someone in your situation.
You had been money from a settlement for being falsely imprisoned so finances weren't an issue. But you had no friends on the outside anymore. You had nothing to do.
And the ptsd from over a year of living like an animal was immense.
The hardest thing to adjust to, at least physically, was no longer being on industrial strength suppressants. And the very strong heats that accompanied that change.
It was during one such extreme heat that Lance broke out of prison and was making his way up the hill right towards your secluded home. He could smell you from far off.
He was in rut. He had not seen his omega in months. And he could smell your heat.
The alpha was coming for you... and very soon... he would be cumming in you.
When he came upon your home he noticed the window was open. You were so careless! Just letting your damn heat scent drift out and attract any piece of shit alpha right to your open window!! You were really fucking lucky you had such a dedicated mate like him though. So loyal that he broke through prison to take care of you.
He watched you for a minute through your open window. Poor little omega. Writhing in your empty nest. No alpha scent to soothe you. Your nude form hot and sweaty, jerking your cock and bucking your hips fervently, a puddle of slick staining your blankets. And the smell was insane, practically screaming for someone to slide in you.
But fate had provided you with a strong lover that was going to fuck all your frustrations right away.
As he stepped through your window your eyes snapped to him immediately, his musky smell grabbing your attention. “L-lance? B-but…”
“I got out for you. Now I can help you and we can be together.” His voice was low and raspy. Almost animalistic.
You recoiled in fear of him and fell out of your bed.
Lance was hurt that his precious lover was scared of him, but he understood. Past lovrs had hurt you and other alphas had tried to rape you very violently. But that’s not what he would do. He was going to keep you safe. Take care of your needs.
“You n-need to leave Lance.”
It was so hard to think clearly. Your body was on fire and his smell was so comforting even though you didn’t want his knot in you. He was still an attractive alpha who you had been close to and your body wanted to be closer. And he could smell it.
“No. I need to breed my husband.”
“Lance, y-you’re not my-”
He stood over you and picked you up easily, putting you back into your nest. He knelt beside it so that his head was right by your ass that was hanging off. He positioned your legs on his shoulders and inhaled deeply.
The scent you were giving off was too captivating, especially there, he could no longer even process your words. He tenderly nuzzled his nose beneath your balls, drinking in the scent and kissing each of your nuts gently before focusing his attention on your needy, slick-leaking hole.
He stared at it in awe for a moment, like a dragon appraising his most precious treasure.
Lance slid his tongue right in and began wriggling it to get at every inch he could reach, reveling in the needy sounds you made between your flustered protests. He kissed it and removed his lips, a small string of drool and slick briefly connecting your hole with his lips.
The alpha then flipped you on to your belly and climbed into the nest with you after discarding his pants and underwear, he took off his sweaty shirt and laid it under your head so you could enjoy his scent while he bred you. He put your head down and kept your ass up. You would have protested, but you couldn’t stay in your right mind any longer.
Not after the tongue fucking he had given you, not with his scent so concentrated with your face pressed into it.
You gripped his shirt and pressed it closer to you, trying to inhale the musk as much as you possibly could. His heart leapt at the sight of it all. His little omega was presenting so nicely for him all while drowning so willingly in his smell.
He gripped your hips firmly, but still careful not to hurt you as he sank his cock into you deeply.
Lance gasped as the wet heat engulfed his entire length. You fit over him so well. There was not a fraction of a doubt in his mind, you were made just for him.
You moaned and drooled into the shirt your loving mate had provided as his flesh smacked against yours. Faster and faster he slammed into you with your slutty noises driving him on until his knot swelled and his cum was pumped into you.
The alpha renewed that claiming bite he had given you as the two of you became tied together and while licking your fresh wound he lightly humped into you until you came hard as well. He caged your body with his and held you tightly to him as you both panted and waited for the knot to go down.
As your mind temporarily cleared you were aware that this was not something you wanted.
But it wasn’t something that you could fight either.
After everything you had been through you were still just a prisoner.
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emmyrosee · 3 months
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“Do I have a cute butt?”
“Excuse me?” Osamu asks at your question, popping an eye open as he chuckles. You giggle at your matched silliness, gently patting his chest.
“You know.... like, is my butt cute?” You ask again, traveling your eyes to look. Your leg is hooked over his waist, his large hand running along your thigh sweetly.
Osamu sighs sleepily, “is this one of those scenarios where if I answer, you’ll hit me?”
You giggle at him, “depends on your answer.”
“Then I think you have, single handedly, the cutest butt in the world, sweet love.” His large hand travels down and gives your ass a gentle pat, almost like you were a baby.
Well, you are his baby, as he always assures.
Your heart flutters wildly at his words, they always have an effect on you, and you can’t help but nuzzle into his chest further to hide your face.
“Awww,” he teases. “Did I make my angel girl all shy?”
“Shut up,” you mutter, shoving him lightly. He chuckles lowly before shoving his hand under your hip and pushing you up, guiding you to straddle his waist. He gently caresses your sides and thighs, dopey, loving smile on his pink lips.
“I think every part of you is the cutest, my love,” Osamu whispers, making you roll your eyes.
“Oh yeah?” You challenge. “Like what?” He raises his own brows, “everything.” He gently takes your hand in his, “I love these small, sexy hands of yours.” He plants a kiss to each of your fingers before closing them, placing a final kiss to your knuckles. You bite your lip, brushing the fallen locks of hair out of his eyes.
“They’re not small,” you protest. “Yours are just massive.”
“Either way,” he continues. “I love these hips, and these legs that everyone stares at when you wear shorts,” he gently digs his fingers in your thighs slightly, leaving lightened prints before transforming back to your original skin tone.
You avert his gaze, “they stare because my hips come up to your thighs. Tall freak.”
“They stare because you’re hot,” he says, putting extra emphasis on the ‘T’ and grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “They stare because somehow, your stunning ass got stuck with me."
“I love being stuck with you!"
“I love it too,” he assures, smiling as you laugh. “That’s another thing,” he says. “That sweet laugh of yours.”
“Oh, you mean the dolphin mating call?” You scoff, crossing your arms.
Osamu shakes his head, “no, you brat. I’m talking about your laugh. Your sweet giggles. Your scoffs. The way it goes silent when you laugh really hard. It the fucking best.”
“No it’s not,” you groan. “You’re the only person on planet earth who could find a walrus being assaulted with a crowbar cute.”
“There’s nothing wrong with finding your little giggles endearing.”
“Yeah, right.”
“But you know what I love most about you?” He asks, cupping your ass and hips in his massive hands.
You quirk your brow, “what’s that, oh Prince Charming of mine.”
“My absolute biggest weakness about you, dollface, is...” he squeezed harder. “Messing with you.”
You can barely process what he said before he bucks his hips up against you, bouncing you up and down. You scream out in laughter, planting your hands to his chest. His own laughter mixes with yours, his thighs continuing to bounce you like you’re a rider on a horse.
“Okay, okay!” You manage between giggles. “I get it!”
“Don’t,” bounce “think,” bounce “you,” bounce “do.” He grins as he stops bouncing, sitting up to wrap his arms around you, pulling you flush to his chest as you both flop back down.
“You’re so bad,” you giggle, running your hands over his chest. Osamu chuckles, planting a kiss to your head.
“What can I say,” he sighs dreamily. “I'm a man of poetic genius.”
"If that's what you want to call it."
Immediately, hands dart under your arms to tickle you viciously, smirking as you shriek and clamp your hands to your sides and laughter pours out of your lips.
It truly was his favorite sound.
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bluetimeombre · 2 months
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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ And I wouldn't marry me, either part 2
You were Azriel's mate, but it took losing you three times for him to realise.
[thank you for the love on part one, I’m so happy Azriel is getting the love he deserves!!!! This is another long one, another 6k. But I’ve learnt a new love for writing about him and i have so many ideas. This is a continuation and final part, part one here. Enjoy]
warnings: references to sexual assault and references to suicide. nothing explicit but please don't read if this is sensitive to you.
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The third time Azriel almost lost you, he was pretty sure he lost a part of himself.
They'd all gone into battle, knowing that Hybern had the numbers to match and the advantage. But they'd all gone to fight in spite of that.
It had took some time for you to get the boys to agree to let you fight- you'd trained and grew up with all three of them but this was fighting on another scale. Although, if they were going, there really wasn't much they could say to get you to stay.
You were clad in Illyrian leathers just like them, armed with weapons and power.
The first battle was over quicker than you'd anticipated. Hybern soldiers surrendered, Tarquin drowned them on land. You'd suffered little, only falling on bed exhausted by the end of the day. Sadly, you were sharing a tent with Cassian and Azriel. It was like you were young again, all sleeping in the same room. It was a habit you'd done when you were young- all looking out and protecting each other.
The only difference was that Cassian snored as he got older.
But the next battle was worse.
It was bigger than last. Hybern's forces had doubled, seemingly at of nowhere, cutting their forces apart.
It was chaos, everywhere. Every corner there was fighting and bleeding and dying. There was pain all around you. Pain you felt like it was your own.
You used all your power, as much as you could to kill and protect. From the corner of your eyes you could see Azriel fight. Your Azriel, weaving in and out of people. Your mate. He was alive. And that was all you cared about.
But you didn't realise how much you'd been pushing herself and draining your power. Every time you stopped, you swayed on your feet, stumbling.
One of Hyberns men came for you as you were crouched and you barley blocked with your sword, rolling onto your back and slashing his arm off.
Not before he landed a sword in your thigh.
It had been deep burning and you yelled, yanking it out. Even with the wound, you kept fighting and fighting your way through until you saw a blaze of red and a familiar cry.
Cassian.
He'd been run through.
It was easy to push past exhaustion and winnow to his side, killing the man who'd been near him and any others that had been close enough. You fall to your knees next to him. 'Cassian, you prick.'
'You kiss your mate with that mouth,' he gasped. He was the only one who knew about Az and the bond. The only one you'd allow to make jokes.
You look down to his wound and gaged. Mother above, his guts were hanging out. 'No, no, no, come on, big guy, you have to stand.'
He groaned. 'Yea, don't think I can do that, sweetheart,' his eyes, lulled back.
You slap him in the face. Perhaps you wouldn't have felt guilt if it weren't for the way his eyes widened. 'You know I hate being called that.'
He laughed as his stomach and all its contents heaved out. Ignoring the pain in you, you hold his stomach, keeping him together. 'I promised Nesta i'd look after her,' he said. 'Please look after her.'
'Do it yourself,' you groaned.
Finally, Azriel came to your side and picked Cassian up like it was nothing, flying him to the tents. If only you still had your wings, you could have done it, saved him quicker.
Then, you were thrown back into the battle. Covered in his blood and yours, you fought through them all, slashing and killing like it was nothing. Like you had no reason to bat an eyelash at anything happening.
Eventually, it ended, but you couldn't even concentrate on who won or how much you'd lost. Your head ached, your leg was tied up in a bloody bandage ripped from your clothes. But none of that mattered.
Cassian was in bed, healing slowly. But he would live, everyone could tell. Especially with the way he picked fights. He argued with Rhys about throwing himself into danger, him and Nesta appeared to be having words with their eyes. Even Mor and Feyre argued. You were the only one silent with Azriel in the back. Too exhausted to even open your mouth.
That night, you tied up your wounds and fell asleep without changing.
It only got worse.
Elain- Feyre's sister and the most precious- was stolen from Hybern. You had only agreed to go and save her with a few selected others because your mate was in that few selective others.
It hadn't escaped your notice how he looked at her, was watchful over her like he once was with you. You saw the tick in his jaw at the news she was gone. You knew that this was the reason you hadn't told him. Knowing that he deserved someone like her, better than you. Kind and hopeful. You weren't. So the only thing you could do was watch your mate find love in someone else.
And you'd do it grudgingly but happy for him.
Azriel had took of with her. You and your high lady fought, fought through ash arrows and everything.
'You should get out of her, y/n,' said Feyre.
You groaned as an arrow skimmed your shoulder. Another had already got your hip. 'If you try to order me out of here, i'll be really pissed off at you.'
'I don't care if it gets you out!' she snapped, arguing like a real sister would.
'Yea, well- I was never one to listen to Rhys either.'
And Azriel was gone. Everything was fine.
You and Feyre ran, ran even as Tamlin defended you, ran until-
An arrow hit you in the back, straight to one of your old wing scars.
You tumbled, rolling on the ground as it broke and imbedded in your back. You screamed, in spite of yourself.
'You have to fly,' someone was telling you. Or saying it in general, frankly you had no idea what was going on. 'You have to take her.'
You rolled onto your stomach, groaning and trying to get yourself up. There was blood running down your arm, how did that get there?
'Y'n.'
You groaned, 'Azriel. I can't fly.'
'I know, I know- i've got you.' He picked you up, arm under your legs and around your shoulders.
'Elian, Azriel-'
'Feyre has her,' he told you. He sounded angry. Or afraid. Somehow his emotions were very easy to mix up.
'Feyre isn't strong enough.'
'She'll have to be.'
'You should take them, Elian-'
'I don't give a fuck about Elian right now, y'n.'
Just like that, he took off with you in his arms and your blood raining down on the camp of Hybern. You could barley hear anything over the wind... but you could feel it.
Something had tugged painfully at the bond, throwing you into a scream. Something had happened to Azriel. You twisted in his arms, finding gashing claw marks in his back from one of the hounds that had chased them down. His face was bleached white in pain, his hold on you tight.
Glancing around, you could just see Feyre in a blur of people.
'Azriel-' you gasped. He was in pain, so much pain.
He didn't say anything, just squeezed you tighter and looking ahead, barking orders as Feyre flew for the first time in need, in desperation. You remembered what that was like, trusting your life in them. But Azriel's wings, they were bleeding out. You remembered the pain. You'd go through it every day to spare him a minute of it.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
You and Azriel landed back in the camp in a blur of pain.
Even with him leaving a trail of blood, he managed to set you down like you were porcelain. You didn't cry out. You didn't yell for help. You threw his arm over your shoulder and supported him.
Nesta and Rhys rushed to Feyre.
You hated your brother for a long moment.
Elain wondered over, chained but whole.
Azriel moved from you, checking on Elian. You only managed to watch them as she kissed his cheek.
The pain came to you then. Your head, shoulder, back. You turned from the crowd of family. Elain moved to hug her sister, Rhys stayed at Feyre's side.
Thesan, someone you barley knew as more than a healer, came to you first but you pushed him away, pushed him to Azriel. 'His wings. Heal him, or i'll rip you to pieces.'
He didn't have to be told twice.
You stumbled your way to camp, to your little tent. You didn't share it with Cassian anymore as he was still healing and Azriel would be a while- needing healing of your own.
You collapsed on the bed, promising to look after yourself- just after your nap.
You were so fast asleep you didn’t even hear Azriel come in and sigh at the sight of you…
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Azriel was fighting when it happened. Specifically, when it snapped.
Mate. Mate. Mate.
No, he wasn't completely healed. But he had to fight. He wouldn't push himself, he knew that would be stupid. But he wouldn't watch as everyone fought. As you fought. He'd hardly seen you. He knew your back would be in pain. He knew you'd be in pain and you were still fighting, so far from him and out of reach.
He was thinking of you when it snapped.
Mate. Mate. Mate.
His soul sang it, his heart rose with it.
His shadows whispered it.
Mate. Mate. Mate.
y/n.
And the first thing he felt over the bond wasn't happiness or love. It was pain. It was death.
Mate. Mate. Mate.
In spite of the pain in his wings, how he'd been told not to fly, he did. He jumped into the skies, soaring over armies and dead to find you. He followed that pain, he followed the bond until he found you.
You, lying in your own blood. Again.
He fell next to you, his power eradicating anywhere near you. They dissovled, the ground cracked under him and his syphons shone in raw power.
'y/n?' he held your body, shaking you. Blood, so much. A sword had torn through your gut. 'Don't do this to me.'
Mate. Mate. Mate.
You cough, a thin stream of blood rolling from your lips. 'Azriel?'
'You're mine,' it was the first thing he could bring himself to say. 'You're my mate. Y/n. You have to hold on, ok? I'm gonna-gonna get you to safety.'
Something like a laugh escaped you, your body wracking with it. 'Of course, finally snaps for you as i'm dying.'
Snaps for you. Mate. Mate.
She knows, his shadows sung. She's known.
Azriel called out to Rhys in every way he could. 'We're gonna be fine. We're gonna be mates, y/n. You have to live, you understand?'
'Not really.' your eyes flutter shut.
'No!' he yelled, shaking you again.
'What's happened?' Rhysand landed next to him, blanking when he saw you in Azriel's arms, bleeding to death. How many times did this have to happen? How many times would you throw yourself into danger?
'She's my mate,' Azriel repeated. He tested it out loud, speaking it to the mother. How cruel was she? to give him this then try to take her away. Well, the mother wouldn't get that chance. Azriel would fight her if she tried to lay a hand on your life.
'What?' said Rhys.
'My mate,' he all but growled as Rhys got closer.
He put a hand on the back of Azriels neck, a hand on your head. 'We have to save her, Az.' he knew all about mating of course, knew that Azriel wanted nobody around her. But this was too save her. 'She's my sister too, the last sister I have. I care about her to.'
Azriel wanted to throw a thousand insults his way but refrained. If not because he was high lord, but also because you were dying.
They got you to safety, Azriel carrying you through to a tent.
'Y/n?!' Cassian rushed over, seeing you in his brothers arms, bleeding out and unresponsive.
Azriel pushed past him, setting you down on the bed. 'Get everyone, every healer now.' He had no idea who he was trying to demand, but he couldn’t watch this, couldn’t see you in.
You were still in your bed. Behind him, Feyre rushed to her mate, wrapping her arms around his torso as your brother stared at you in muted horror.
Azriel was leaning over you, sitting on the edge of the bed. ‘She’s my mate.'
'What?' Said Cassian, ‘She told you?'
Azriel felt the world stop around him. Not did you know about the bond and hadn’t told him, you’d told someone else? Cassian? His hand stilled in brushing your hair back, his shadows coaxing you instead.
Rhysand spoke what Azriel wanted to scream. 'You knew?'
'She-She told me,'
Azriel had always had an iron fist control on his emotions, as relied on to be spy master, he had to. But his patience was hanging on by a thread. You were still bleeding out and nobody had come and Cassian knew. Cassian knew about his mate before he did.
His shadows caressed you and, leaving you in the coolness of their touch, he leapt up, marching around the bed toward him.
Rhys was quicker, a hand on Azriels chest to stop him. 'Calm, brother.'
'Calm?' He seethed. 'When-how long have you known?' He shouted.
Cassian breathed out, pushing his hair back . His wings were tucked in behind him. 'She told me, before she went under the mountain.'
Even Rhysand let him go, blowing out air and throwing his arms over his head as Feyre gasped.
Azriel stumbled, a hand to his chest. His shadows were divided between him and caring for you. 'Fifty years,' he gasped.
You’d known for fifty years- possibly longer and hadn’t said a word.
He was panicking, his breath escaping him. His shadows settled uneasy around him. And the only person who was capable of calming him was laying unconscious.
Thesan burst in, knowing the injured already and working on you quickly.
Azriel almost launched at him, just for touching you. The reasonable part of him knew he needed to touch to heal, but the part that was your mate wanted him dead.
Cassian held him back, physically.
Azriel glowered at him. 'I wouldn’t touch me if i were you, brother,' he practically spat the words.
Rhysand left Feyre with a kiss on her cheek, coming to Azriel who was looking over you on the other side. 'Az, you need to rest-you’re hurt, too, remember?'
He shook his head, staring down at you. Mother above you were pale, so pale. 'I-I can’t feel anything Rhys, I can’t feel her through the bond.'
'My sister is a fighter, she’ll make it through.'
Azriel scoffed. His shadows were caressing up and down your arm. ‘Don’t pretend you’ve ever cared about her like a brother.'
Rhysand inhaled sharply. This was just fear, he told himself. 'Azriel.'
'No,' he said, his finger brushing back your hair. 'You only care about her when she’s dying and all y/n does is worship you- ever since you were children.'
Cassian tried to advance, 'Azriel, you wouldn’t be saying any of this if y/n wasn’t hurt.'
He laughed, bitterly. 'No, I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t have to. I’d bite my tongue. But your sister is dying and the last time you cared was the last time she almost died- it killed her to lose her wings and you were never there! And you teach your mate to fly right in front of her!'
Rhys growled. ‘Don’t bring my mate into this!'
‘You’ve brought mine into this!' He yelled. 'Everything she does is for you. Working for you. My mate followed you down to the mountain even when you didn’t care.'
'Of course I cared.'
'Then why did she feel so alone down there!'
‘How would you know, Azriel? You weren’t there!'
'Because I know her, bond or not. And you’ve been otherwise occupied.'
Cassian moved between the two, holding them apart. 'None of this matters to y/n does it.'
Azriel blankes them all, settling next to you. He vaguely heard Cassian send Rhysand and Feyre away. He felt him longer before he felt him leave.
And then all Azriel could feel, was you.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
You felt pain first. The steady thumping of it through your body. It started in your leg, numbing it. Then, her back ached- a familiar pain you'd felt before. It sent panic through you before you realised they can't take your wings twice.
Then, it was in your gut, stinging. Just the thought of moving was hurting- aching.
There was a coldness around you, draped over like shadows. Shadows...
That's when you felt the tug that you'd neglected to feel for more than half a century.
The bond. There was finally something tied to the other end.
The shadows around you must've known you were awake as they grew frantic around you.
You opened your eyes, slowly, afraid to what you may see. Afraid to the eyes you'll have to meet.
Azriel was sat on a chair next to you, bare chested with only bandages around him. Immediately, you were at a disadvantage. He was looking at you, dark eyes pouring into yours as his hands curled around shadows.
'What happened?' you asked.
'You were run through,' he said, voice wavering.
'Oh.'
'You're my mate.'
Your eyes flickered away, staring at your tent. 'Oh.'
'That's it?' he whispered. There was some heart-break tainting his voice. 'You're not gonna say something?'
You pulled the blanket over you, daring to move to sit up. He shifted, but his shadows helped you. 'What do you want me to say, Az?'
'Why did you tell Cassian and not me?' he asked. 'Why didn't you tell me, for fifty years?'
'It's-it's not a big deal.'
'Not a big deal?' he all but seethed. 'I'd say finding your mate is a pretty big thing, y/n. It's the person to spend the rest of your life with.'
'Can we not, do this now?' you winced, as the words left your mouth.
'You're right, maybe we should wait another fifty years to bring it up when you're dying.' you've never heard him be so cruel, you'd never even argued with him before this.
'I wasn't dying,' you mumbled.
He scoffed. 'You had an infected wound in your leg that you didn't tell anyone about. An ash arrow was imbedded in your back. Imbedded! You didn't see anyone about it and then- you run into battle and get yourself stabbed.'
'I didn't get myself stabbed!' you argued, your temper rising above all other judgment. 'I didn't rush out in there, wanting to die!'
'I held you as you bled out!' he yelled, standing up from his seat. You were swinging your legs over the bed, ignoring every twinge in your body. 'Do you have any idea what that's like? Not even to hold you as you die in my arms the first time but the second. And to know this time, I was holding my mate?'
You bit down on your lip. He had to use the word with such care and love even when angry. You could feel it. For once, guessing his emotions wasn't needed as you felt it all. The taunt anger in him, the pull of anxiety and above all else, the weight of his love.
Azriel walked around you. 'Please, you have to tell me. Why didn't you say something to me? Why wouldn't you tell me you're my mate? Am I that repulsive to you?'
'What?'
He gulped.
You shook your head as he knelt in front of you, shadows pooled around the two of you, as if they were trying to hold the two of you together. You took his hands, holding them and let something like love flow down the bond. 'You are the most beautiful thing in this world. Something better than me. I wouldn't burden you with that.'
He rose his gaze to you. 'Burden me?'
'Do you think i've enjoyed lying to you?' you ask, finally finding your words. 'Do you think I've liked being your mate and never being with you? That I left you for fifty years and thought of you every moment of every day, all day long. That when I come back I wonder if you or Mor had grown closer? Or if Elian would finally tell you how much she loves you? It's been eating me alive. But it's a small price to pay.'
Azriel grasped at his words, chocking on them. 'Elian is nothing to me, nothing.'
You pushed yourself up, using his shoulder to steady yourself before you move around him. 'Why? Have you only just decided that because I’m your mate? That’s not how it should go, Azriel.'
He was following you around your tent as you slipped on armour and leathers over your night dress. ‘I want you, only you.'
'Because of the bond?'
'Because I’ve always only wanted you!'
You laugh. 'No, you haven’t.'
'If we’d talked about this maybe fifty years ago you’d know that!'
You shook your head. Perhaps a part of you didn't want to believe him and all those wasted years at your fault, but you didn't want to believe his words either. Because what did that mean? That he loved you and wanted you. But that seemed just as impossible to you. How could he want someone so wrecked who'd done nothing but run away from her feelings and does nothing to make anyone happy?
'I don't want you to feel like that,' said Azriel, approaching her. She thought she'd spoken aloud before she realised he could feel everything that was hers. She'd only ever had to shield her thoughts from her brother- and he rarely sort her thoughts. 'Please, please-' he took your shoulders, turning you around and gently resting his head on yours.
You could feel his warm breath over your lips. You almost lost all resolve, with him that close. You'd never been so close to him, close enough to touch. To kiss. To know finally what it mean to have that deep connection that everyone was meant for.
One person in the whole world to belong to.
And he was stuck with her.
'Azriel-'
'Whatever you're thinking about yourself, i've thought about me a thousand times. And ever since we were kids you've always stopped me from thinking that. You've always told me what I was worth,' he whispered. His hands were wondering down your arms, sending shivers down you. He could've been doing it on purpose, distracting you. 'Why won't you accept it for yourself?'
You gulped down every uneasy thought. 'Because you're good, Az and i'm-'
'You're everything.'
'I'm not,' you look up at him, his own face blurry from your tears unwilling to fall. 'I'm not a fighter, i'm afraid of pain. And I could never be a leader, because i'm scared of losing people. I'm terrified about it half the time. Why do you think I followed Rhys down to that stupid party that I knew I wouldn't come back from? Because he'd do the same for me? We both know he wouldn't. But what would losing him mean for you? or Cass, or Mor? I was a coward and I wanted to hide from all the pain his leaving would have caused.'
Azriel shook his head, words sinking in. You were comparing yourself, to warriors like him and Cass, to the high lord- your own brother. 'It was unbearable without you. Maybe if it was just Rhysand i'd have still been able to be spymaster, because that's what he needed. But when I realised you'd gone to, it ruined me,' he admitted. 'I didn't care what you would've wanted, because you weren't here to tell me.'
You rub at your forehead, the tension creating a pain in your already aching body.
'And to anyone who made you feel inferior or worthless, i'll kill them,' he said. It was a shine of the real Azriel. The one who made a promise and never broke it.
You smirk. 'Can't kill the high lord.'
'No,' huffed Azriel, like it was a mild inconvenience. 'But I sure can punch him in the face.'
You laughed at that and Azriel smiled. He'd cracked you.
But your amusement dropped quickly, he felt it like a penny dropping. He let go of you as you turned away, wiping at your eyes. He didn't want to see you cry, didn't want to be the one to make you upset. He only wanted to make you feel loved.
'This isn't how I wanted this to go.'
Azriel suddenly felt conscious of himself. Maybe this wasn't so much about what you felt, maybe it was more about what you felt toward him. 'You really hate the mating bond that much?'
You look over to him. 'Being your mate is my greatest honour. But I don't want you to love me just because you have to.'
'It's not that-'
'And I know you're gonna keep saying that.'
'Until you believe me,' he assured her. 'Even if I have to tell you every day until I die.'
'I can't ask you to do that.'
He smiled at you, a heart-breaking smile of love. 'You haven't.'
You open your mouth to say something, but you're interrupted by Cassain poking his head through the tent flaps. The rest of his whole body was hidden, only showing his bronze face and hair framing him. There was a sheepish smile on his lips.
Azriel huffed. 'Cassian.'
'What? It didn't sound like much love making going on.'
'Mother above,' you sighed.
'What?' whined Cassian. 'I'm just saying, didn't sound like I was interrupting anything.'
'Personally I didn't know he was capable of saying that many words,' said another voice, familiar and dull. Nesta.
You frown. 'I'm sorry, is the whole camp out there.' You storm out, without Azriel to stop you.
He let you get away, again, and now there was no way he'd get you to accept the bond until the battle was done.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
The next time you and Azriel spoke, the war was over.
Elian had stabbed Hybern, Nesta had delivered the killing blow, to the head. And your brother had died.
For those few minutes of his death you wanted Feyre weep for him as you stood paralyzed, unable to move. This was the brother you worshiped, the one you’d follow to the end of the world. Did he know that when he went where you could not follow?
Feyre had done everything she could, she begged for his life back. And when her wish was granted, you were collapsing on his other side. Tears of joy in your eyes that Rhys wiped away.
Your family, safe.
Everyone seemed happy to return to Velaris. Home. Scars were left over everyone, fears and pains. Some wore them better than others.
You'd thrown yourself into life. And avoiding Azriel. Suddenly there were many friends you'd neglected that you needed to take dinner with, or so many spontaneous Rita nights with Nesta.
And none of it escaped his notice. The steady thump of the bond still thrived inside of you, his shadows followed everywhere you went, even loitering in your room.
If he was doing it in an attempt to annoy you, then you weren't gonna break first.
After a particularly harrowing Rita's night, the only thing you wanted to do was sleep in for the rest of the day, hide away from everyone and everything. Call it your coping mechanism.
Alas, there was no peace as your curtains were thrown open, light spilling in and burning through your eyelids.
'Knock it off!' the shadows had never bothered with waking you up before- it seemed they'd picked the worst time to start.
'We need to talk,' said a voice that certainly wasn't a shadow.
Rhysand.
You groan, rolling over. 'Can't you talk to me when i'm not hungover.'
'And when would that be, sister? you're getting as bad as Nesta.'
You throw your pillow off and at him, but he dodged it easily and with a smug smile. 'I hate it when you call me that.'
'What? When I compare you to Nesta? Clean up your act then.' He stood over your bed, his arms folded over his chest.
You glare at him. 'I meant sister.' You shuffled up, brushing your hair back.
Rhysand frowned and perched himself on the edge of your bed. There was something he wasn't saying, and you watched it weight heavy on his shoulders. 'You know the last time I was in your room you were throwing glasses at me and yelling at me to get out.'
'Well, don't give me ideas.'
His lips curled into a smile of amusement before he turned solemn again. 'Do you love me, y/n?'
You hadn't expected that. Your hangover could only get worse, your head swimming with possibilities as to why he was asking. And nervous, you were nervous. Maybe you'd never said you loved him out loud but surely your actions were enough of a tell. 'You're my high lord and my brother, of course.' you shrug it off, as if it was nothing.
The shadows trailed up the bed, as if sensing your anxiety.
Rhysand glanced over at you. 'Do you think I don't love you?'
You hesitate, chewing at the skin of your gum.
'Because I do. I do love you. You're my little sister, how can I not?' he muttered. 'And I didn't know you felt like that.'
'It was just sort of... obvious,' you said. 'I was never your sister, not really. I always knew that. You'd never see me like that so, I gave up thinking you would. But you're the only family I have.'
'No, I'm not,' he denied. 'Y/n, everyone in this house loves you. They're your family. And i'm sorry- i'm so sorry if my actions have ever made you think different.'
'Why now?' you ask, eyes screwed up looking at him. 'Why are you saying all this now, what's changed?'
He shook his head, strands of his hair- the same as yours- falling over his eyes. 'You almost died, died on that battlefield and I-I wasn't the first one there. Granted, it was your mate that reached you first but I, I wasn't there quick enough.'
You meet his gaze, his purple eyes sad in a way you'd only ever seen under the mountain. 'You died.'
'And as I was dying one of my deepest regrets was not calling you sister enough,' he shifted closer, taking your head in his hands as if you were a little kid. 'You are my sister. Full flesh and blood. Full love of mine. You are my family. After everything you've done for me. You were right, I needed you under there, when there was nothing good to keep me grounded, but you. My little sister.'
You were sure you were tearing up in front of him.
'You'll always be my sister.'
You laugh. 'Maybe I should get stabbed more often.'
'No,' he said seriously. 'I don't think Azriel would like that very much.'
The mention of him changed the tone in conversation, changed the very beating of your heart.
'What's going on with you two?'
'Oh, I see,' you tease, 'talk to me above sister and brotherly relations just to get in my love life. Not a good look on you high lord.'
He laughed. 'No, it's not that. I just care about the two of you, a lot. And you both deserve to be happy. And I think you'd be happiest with each other.'
You look down, twirling the rings on your fingers.
'Would it be so bad to try to love him?'
You shake your head, smiling as a tear rolls down your cheek. 'I don't even have to try. Feels like i've loved him forever.' his shadows climbed up your arm, leaving Rhysand to smile at the affection.
'You'll work it out,' said Rhys, leaning over and kissing the crown of your head.
Your door was thrown open, startling the two of you.
Azriel stood there. For his entrance, he didn't at all seem that confident when he stood in front of the two of you. His hands didn't know how to hold themselves in front of him.
Your brows rose. 'Were you listening at the door?'
'Azriel,' scolded Rhysand with a stupid grin.
'Get dressed,' he said simply to you. 'There's something you need to see.'
Without much room for argument, you kicked them both out and dressed.
You'd grudgingly let Azriel hold your hand as he led you through the woods. You'd winnowed in at an illyrian camp before he took you through it and into the woods close by.
It was the same camp you'd first met Azriel in. The oldest where you'd all become friends. You'd asked what you were doing there, but he was quiet as he led you through, helping you over roots or breaking twigs from the trees so they didn't hit you.
'Azriel, to any other girl, you leading her silently through a woods without saying anything would be a bit suspicious,' you tell him. His shadows trailed behind the two of you and his hand was secure in yours. You knew not to be scared, but you were still cautious.
'I wouldn't show any girl this,' he said.
After another half hour of walking, the two of you stumbled across a small hut. It was a tiny thing really, made out of twigs and sticks, hay and mud. It looked like something a child was capable of making.
Azriel paused in front of it. He let go of you hand and reached for the door. He was as tall as it and his wings had to tuck in tightly behind him.
Hesitantly, you followed in.
It was just as small as it looked and dirty, like it hadn't been touched in years. Cobwebs hung low (his shadows quickly tried to bat them all away for you) there was dirt and hay all over the floor. Glasses were dust filled and left around with a hundred other things. Some looked new, others old.
And yet, strangely familiar.
'I made this place,' said Azriel.
You looked back at him. He was hunched over a large box that was overflowing with things. 'You?'
'The first time my brothers picked on me, I came to these woods, working on this for days. Every time things got too much back then, i'd come here. I've been coming back for years.' he glanced at you, a sheepish look on his face. 'I've never showed anyone this before.'
You look around the place in new perspectives. The shadows settled around the place. You pictured a little Az, running here and hiding from his brothers. Did he feel alone? Did he feel un-loved? You were so enamoured by it you didn't realise he'd settled on the ground, pulling out things from his box.
'This is your glove, the one's you were wearing when we first met. You took them off to beat up some kid who was being mean to me. You didn't go back for them, you didn't even care.'
He said, pulling out a pair of red wool gloves. In spite of the hut, they were in perfect condition. Pristine. You remembered first meeting him, remembered the little soldier who'd been horrible. Those gloves wouldn't go anywhere near your hand now.
Azriel went in again. 'This is the empty glass jar of the cream you used to help my burns. Here's a book you read to me when I couldn't flip the pages myself. The notes you'd leave when you had to go back to camp. The flowers you picked for me and gave me for my birthday. Dried and stamped from every time you gave them to me.'
You stood, in shock as he kept taking things out.
'A terrible drawing I did of you when I was young. A locket of yours that broke and you never wore again. Stamps from our first theatre trip. Empty bottles from our first night together in Rita's- and Cassian's too. A letter you wrote to me when I was on a mission. A black ribbon from your hair, you used to always wear it with these things. Honestly, the amount I have in here,' and he pulled out several, of varying shades. Black, white, grey, red, dark green. All yours.
Azriel wasn't done. 'A page of annotations you did in one of Rhysand's books. A copy of your favourite poems. A coaster from the first time just you and I went to dinner. Here's some stones from when I first taught you to skim them. A quill that I used to use to write you letters. An old ring of yours is here too. Here's the first dagger you got me. It's too precious to me to be used to kill.'
Tears were falling down your cheeks as you watched him pull them all out and explain them in depth. There was more but the sight of it all was becoming blurred through your tears. The bond felt heavy and beautiful in you.
Azriel finally put the box down and fell to his knees in front of you. His hands came around the back of your thighs, holding you there as his eyes looked up into yours. 'Don't you ever think I don't love you, when I have loved you since we were eleven years old.'
You stutter on you breath. 'H-how?'
He rests his head on your stomach, looking utterly at your will and completely in love. 'How could I not?'
Slowly, as you could not move too fast, you settled down on your knees across from him. His hands moved up to your arms as yours went to his cheeks, brushing back his hair.
'It was always going to be you, wasn't it?' you mumbled. 'How could it be anyone else?'
Azriel kissed you then, finally. His lips were as soft as they'd looked, as you'd always imagined. His hands drifted to your waist, finger tips digging into to hold you close. His hands were strong, but his lips were gentle. He pulled away, only to groan in need before reaching for your lips again, harder, desperate.
His teeth bit down on your bottom lip, tongue sliding in to feel every corner of your mouth as his hands wondered around you, trying to grip onto any bit of you he could. Your arms wrapped around his neck, bringing him closer. Close enough to consume, to breath in.
You pulled back enough to catch your breath, arms still around his shoulders. 'Mother above, am I gonna make you the best meal of your life.'
But that could wait. For now, you'd settle for a dusty floor in the little house in the woods.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Taglist: @tothestarsandwhateverend @darlingbravebelle @lil-lupa @haileycannotcometothephantom @fairywriter-oracle @isa1b2h3 @tele86 @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @unleashthelion @naturakaashi @aurora1115 @sirens-and-moonflowers @azriels-shadowsinger @willowpains @crazylokonugget @abysshaven @anuttellaa @wishfulwithwine @one-big-fangirl @harrystylesfan2686 @charlotteintumbleland @mellowarcadefun @starseedsamurai
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flowersandbigteeth · 3 months
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Orc boyfriend with what he thinks is a tiny, smol mate who's so smol, so delicate, so sweet... They're actually pretty firmly built for a human, while a bit short, along with being stubborn and sassy and ready to bite heads off for their adorable XL size boyfriend.
I've got so many orc stories going right now, but you know I'm not mad about it ^_^ I love Orcs <3 There are so many different ways to write them. I have another couple of Orc asks I'm working on, as well 🥵
Orc (Cedar) x thick f reader
Word Count: 5K
Tw: sfw orc fluff, some brief descriptions of battle, brief mention of sa, size difference
More monster fluff here
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“Put the stick down, sugar. We’re not going to hurt you.” 
You scoffed at the soldiers circling you, their eyes dark with lust. 
“We just want to have some fun,” another said, his eyes drifting over your shapely hips. “Don’t you owe us a debt of gratitude for rescuing you?”  
You squeezed the iron fire poker that you had gripped in your hand. 
“Rescuing me? You didn’t get your rocks off burning down the damn village?” 
“It was a strategic maneuver,” the leader of the armored men said with an oily smile. “We are here to liberate you.” 
“By assaulting me?” you snapped. 
There was not a doubt in your mind that the second you lowered your weapon, they were going to drag you into some dark corner and act out all of the sick thoughts they had echoed on their faces. 
Your King’s soldiers weren’t good guys. When they heard there was an Orc camp nearby, they couldn’t be bothered to attack it directly. Instead, they burned down your village. They said it was to prevent them from resupplying. 
It was true you did business with the Orcs, who were technically your enemy, but they never acted like enemies. While big and quite scary-looking, they paid in gold and were always polite to the women running the shops. You never felt the least bit unsafe alone with one, and occasionally, they’d help you out with things that needed done– fixing roofs and cartwheels. The men of the town had all been conscripted for the war, so it mostly the ladies keeping the village afloat. The soldiers had made a whole lot of children and the elderly homeless. 
“Come on, sweetie, this game is getting tiresome.” 
One of the soldiers dared to approach you, and you didn’t hesitate a second, swinging your poker and smacking him so hard in the head that his helmet crunched. He collapsed on the broken boards that had once been the floor of your little noodle shop. 
“Now that’s a crime!” the leader barked.
He waved to his accomplices. 
“Get in there and restrain her!” Their eyes fell on the collapsed soldier, and they looked between one another, trying to sort out who was next to get a whomping. 
You flexed your wrist, preparing to swing at whoever came at you next, when you heard the heavy steps of an Orc approaching. The soldiers were too inexperienced to know what that sound meant. You’d heard them approach every day at dinner time for several months. It wasn’t until he was shouldering his way through what was left of your door that they took notice. 
“The enemy approaches! Your swords!” 
The Orc you knew as Ash, wrinkled his brow and let out a lilting call to gather his brethren. The ground rumbled as more heavy feet ran towards you. 
Wood splintered, and what remained of the ceiling creaked as they tore the walls away, making more room for a fight. 
Faced with five nine-foot Orc barbarians armed with axes almost as big as their bodies, the soldiers tried to run for it. You screamed as they threatened to trample you, trying to force their way through the back wall, but they never reached you. 
The Orcs didn’t need to draw their weapons, grabbing every soldier and smacking them against the ground until they stopped moving—a gruesome way to die, but practical. 
When the danger was crumpled into a wet gnarl of bones and metal, their eyes turned to you. Ash said something to his friends in their own language before he stomped across the room and plucked you up like a kitten, cradling you in his arm. 
“Hey, What do you think you’re doing?!” 
“Quiet, little one. You’ll give us away.” 
You puckered your lips at him, annoyed, as if the stomping of five tons of muscle was quiet. When you tried to wave your poker at him, he plucked it out of your hand but didn’t drop it, tucking it instead in his belt. He said something else to his friends before turning to split away from them. 
You had no reason to panic. The Orcs had never harmed you, but being taken away from the group put frightening thoughts in your head, and you instinctively started screaming. 
The Orc sighed, sounding tired, when four more soldiers came skidding around a corner, swords in hand. You looked up at him apologetically, smacking your hand over your mouth to stay the scream that didn’t want to stop. 
He set you on the roof of what was left of a building and pat you on the head, a gesture that you read as “stay” before pulling out his axe. You weren’t going anywhere, even if you wanted to. The drop was fifteen feet down, and the stairs were just charcoal at the base of the building. 
“Attack!” the leader of the soldiers shouted, but their moves in their heavy metal armor were slow. Ash swung his arm in a sweeping stroke that sliced four of them in half where they stood. The other one, eyes wide with horror, turned tail and ran. 
Replacing his axe, he picked you up again and headed into the woods. This time, you had enough sense to keep quiet. 
You’d never been to the Orc camp before, but you heard it before you saw it. The brassy sound of a grinder and hammers on metal rang through the trees, blended with the shouts of the Orcs in their language.  There were lots of huge tents and fires spotted here and there. The camp was buzzing with activity. Orcs ran around shouting at one another, some gathering weapons, some sending groups in the direction you came. You recognized many of them as some of your customers. They often came in groups and hauled away vats of the noodle stew you sold. 
A few Orcs waved at Ash but didn’t pay you much mind as he carried you to the nicest-looking tent. It had a banner outside of it with a gold bear embroidered into the fabric. Ash set you on the ground at the door and handed you your poker before patting you on the back, indicating you should go in. 
“What’s in there?” you asked. 
He said something in Orcish that you didn’t understand and walked away. There were too many other giants around to attempt an escape, so you pulled aside the fur covering the door and peeked inside. 
“Hello?” 
Your question was returned with a deep voice, smooth as a glassy pond. 
“Enter, little one.” 
Taking a few steps inside, you were faced with what you could only describe as the most handsome Orc you’d ever seen. His skin was a deep olive, and his hair fell over his shoulder in a long, dark sheet with small braids here and there. His tusks were large, but they seemed only to highlight how well his lips were formed. His features were harsh and defined but not unattractive, with a straight nose and deep-set gold eyes. The only thing you could point out as a flaw was a dark scar from his forehead to the right corner of his jaw. 
You assumed the Orcs were blunt tools, sprinting into battle with no real plan, but this one was sitting at a high table examining maps with a book in his hand. 
“I’m…I’m not sure why I’m here,” you said, brandishing your poker, though you didn’t feel like you were in any particular danger. 
“I asked Ash to fetch you,” he said without looking up. “You’re the noodle shop woman.” 
“My name is (Y/N), not “noodle shop woman,” and I don’t have a shop anymore. The soldiers burned it.” 
He put his book down and turned his gold eyes to you. 
“That’s why you’re here.” 
“I don’t understand.” 
His eyes drifted over you before they settled on the poker you were still holding up. 
“You were feeding most of the camp. If there’s no shop to visit, you can make noodles here.” 
You blinked up at him. 
“Oh…Am I your prisoner?” 
He chuckled. 
“If you’d like to go back to your people, I won’t stop you, but judging how they burned down your village without hesitation, I think you’re safer with us.” 
You had to admit that made some sense, but you still weren’t buying it. 
“I can’t stay here with you!” 
He tipped his head, the corner of his lip twitching up slightly. 
“Why is that, little one?” 
You narrowed your eyes at him. 
“First of all, I’m NOT little, and second, an Orc camp is no place for a lady.” 
A shudder that had nothing to do with fear shot down your spine as his eyes moved over your body. He crossed the room, scooping you up, and setting you on his table. Your feet dangled far from the ground. 
“What- What are you doing?” you snapped, waving your weapon at him. 
“My neck was hurting from looking down at you. You’re very short.”
The sparkle in his eyes told you he was teasing you, which drew heat to your cheeks. 
“Maybe compared to you. You’re unnecessarily large. What are you doing with all of that muscle? Are you going to arm wrestle your books?” you pouted, eyes drifting to the massive bicep peeking out of the fur vest he wore. 
He laughed out loud, gracing you with a wide smile. 
“You’ll fit right in here.” 
You raised your nose at him, trying to look unconvinced. 
“Where will I even sleep? All of your tents are big and drafty.” 
“Since you’ve declared your intention to court me, I wouldn’t mind if you slept here.” 
“Declared my intention to— Where did you get that idea?” 
He flicked a fingertip at your poker. 
“In the old days, Orc females came to their males' tent and threatened them into submission with their favorite weapon.” 
Your cheeks burned like hot irons, and you almost dropped it. 
“Well…I’m not trying to court you. It’s for protection.” 
He snorted at you but nodded his head. 
“If you say so, little one, but it will be much warmer in my tent if it’s drafts you’re worried about.” 
“I don’t even know your name. Ash called you something in your language. I didn’t understand…” 
He examined one of the feet you had dangling over the edge of his table. Compared to his big hand, it was tiny. 
“Cautalin, it means something close to general in your language, but you can call me Cedar. That’s what my mother named me.” 
Your eyes traveled over his barrel chest and thick arms. 
“Seems about right,” you said, finally setting your poker down. 
He picked it up, looked it over, and tested the weight in his hand. 
“Not a bad choice,” he said. “Light but effective.” 
You glanced up at him through your eyelashes, feeling cheeky. 
“Do you feel like submitting?” 
You watched a flicker of heat ignite in his eyes, and he slowly set it down. 
“Come on, let's get you to bed, killer.” 
He picked you up again, walking you over to a large pallet covered in furs. 
“This is your bed.” 
He gave you another smile. 
“We’re in the middle of a battle; I won't be sleeping tonight. It's all yours.” 
Though you weren't quite sure about sleeping in his bed, weariness overtook you at the sight of the comfortable, cozy furs, and you crawled in, wrapping yourself up to your chin in blankets. 
He put your poker next to you and blew out the candle, slipping out the front flap as you dozed. 
— 
You woke to yelling, but not the sound of battle. Crawling out of your furs, you picked up your poker and peeled out of the flap Cedar used as a door. Another Orc you didn't recognize was the one yelling, and Cedar had his arms crossed, looking bored. 
Your eyes drifted to about twenty women, elderly, and children, cowering in the chilly morning air, their faces streaked with soot from the fire.
“They’re our enemies!” the strange Orc barked. 
“Really, Asvoth? Are you really afraid of a handful of children and their mothers?” 
“This is a war camp, not a nursery.” 
“It's my camp, not yours. They stay.” 
“I outrank you. I can take your command.” 
Cedar snorted. 
“Yet the King hasn't trusted you with a unit of your own. You're nothing more than an errand boy with a fancy title. Any of these children could take your job.” 
Asvoth’s face turned a deep forest green from both embarrassment and indignation. He yanked the sword he wore on his back to his hand. Without thinking, you hopped in front of Cedar, waving your poker at the intruder. You had no idea why, a fact you only considered after you’d already put yourself in harm's way. Still, you'd made your move so the only thing to do was follow through. 
“You heard Cedar! We’re not leaving! Get on if you know what's good for you!” 
Asvoth sprung forward, dropping his sword toward your head. Your eyes squeezed shut, preparing for pain, but there was only the clang of metal. Opening one eye, you glanced up to see Cedar’s axe blocking the other Orc’s blow. 
There was a moment when you thought Asvoth might overtake him, but Cedar’s muscles weren't all for show. He shoved the other Orc back, and he toppled over, landing on his butt in the dirt. His sword landed in front of the children with a CLANG. 
“Woah!”  the little ones cheered, circling around it like it was a strange animal. 
A few of them tried to pick it up, but it was far too heavy, making their eyes pop even wider.
Cedar nodded at him, and a pair of Orcs from the camp dragged Asvoth up by the collar of his tunic, pushing him towards the forest.  
“I'm reporting this!” He shouted over his shoulder as he stumbled towards the woods. 
Cedar waved a hand at one of his Orcs, beckoning him closer. 
“You and Orin follow him and make sure the King gets our side of the story, not his.”  
When the situation seemed settled, Cedar looked down at you and patted your head. 
“Thank you for your protection, little suitor,” he said with a smirk. 
Your cheeks blew up in flames, but you puffed your chest and looked at the children watching Ash pick up the abandoned sword. They hopped around him like little bunnies, begging him to teach them to use it. 
“I have no idea what you mean! I’m here to make noodles! Point me in the direction of my kitchen! These little mouths are probably hungry.” 
He chuckled, but guided you with a large hand on your back to a large tent filled with whatever food supplies they had rescued from the village. You wrinkled your nose at the primitive workspace, but there were enough flour and eggs to work with. You were surprised to find someone had stuck in a lower table, perfect for your height. After washing your hands in a water basin, you got to cooking. 
“What are you still doing here?” you asked Cedar, who had plopped down in a chair and was reading a book. 
He smiled. 
“Reading.” 
You blinked at him, putting your floury fists on your hips. “Are you surveilling me? I’m not going to poison you all! I have to eat this too, you know.” 
He tipped his head to the side, his gold eyes sparkling in the makeshift hearth. 
“The sound of cooking is soothing. I liked to study in the kitchen while my mother cooked when I was a boy.” 
You looked him up and down. 
“I can’t imagine you as a child.” 
You thought for a second, tapping your chin. 
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen an Orc child, actually.” 
He looked back down at his book, shifting in his seat to get comfortable. 
“You will,” he said as he flipped a page. 
Your brow wrinkled at that nebulous statement, but you knew everyone was hungry after the long night, so you got back to work. 
By midmorning, you had a stewpot big enough to feed an army filled with noodles, vegetables, and what little bit of venison the Orcs had been able to hunt between the battle. 
“All done,” you said, clapping your hands and creating a puff of flour in the air. 
Cedar got up and shouted something to his men, and two Orcs appeared to carry the big vat into the central circle so it could be served. You felt a sense of satisfaction when all the bowls were passed out and the children, tired humans, and bloodied Orcs were eating. The mothers spoke quietly between one another, while the children could hardly sit still, their big eyes following the Orcs every movement. 
“Here.” 
You looked up to find Cedar holding a bowl out to you. A grumbling stomach had you accepting it, and he patted the seat next to him for you to sit down. The two of you ate quietly for a moment before you asked him a question. 
“What are you going to do with all of us?” 
“Hmm?” he asked. 
“Well, I mean when the battle is over. We have nowhere to go. Our town is destroyed.” 
He looked at the children who, after scarfing down their bowls, were engaged in some game with Ash. 
“I was hoping you would all return to our capitol city with us. That’s where we live when we’re not fighting.”
Your eyebrows jumped. 
“To the Orc city? We’re humans. Don’t your people hate us?” 
He shrugged. 
“There are some weak minds who reveal their own fragility with their hate, but the rest of us like your kind. This whole war started because we wished to create allies amongst the humans.” 
“What? The soldiers said you attacked!” 
He chuckled. 
“Your king has a very effective propaganda engine. That’s probably the only thing about him that is effective. We sent a delegation party to him to discuss our interest in mingling with you humans. You all are prolific; despite your size, you’re a sturdy bunch. We thought marriages would bolster our numbers and strengthen your stock. Your King attacked, and we were forced to defend ourselves. The force that attacked us was decimated, and he declared war.” 
“You mean…you wish to mate with us?” 
His eyes slid down to you, and he gave you a sharp nod. 
“Is that so surprising?” 
You thought about it for a moment. 
“I don’t know…Maybe a little. You’re so strong. You’re not afraid we’ll diminish you?” 
His thick hand cupped your chin and rubbed some flour away with his thumb. Your heart raced at his touch. 
“Size is not what makes us strong. Our strength lies in our unbreakable bonds. Your King will be defeated, not because his forces are less than ours, but because he orders his men to betray his own people.” 
He nodded towards the children, who were playing chicken fight on Ash and another Orc’s shoulders. 
“They will remember it was men who burned down their village, stole their fathers from them, assaulted their mothers and Orcs who took them in, fed them, and helped them smile again. 
“I suppose you’re right,” you agreed. 
His smile widened. 
“I will remember you took up arms to protect me against an enemy twice your size. You belong among the us.” 
Suddenly the wool dress you wore was much too hot. 
“I should go wash these before the next meal,” you squeaked, grabbing his empty bowl and scurrying away.
Once safe in the kitchen tent, you pressed your hand against your chest, trying to still your heart. Why did Cedar make you feel so fluttery? You’d never felt this way around anyone before. You usually kept to yourself and steered clear of romance. It had to be the battle, you decided. You were still hyped up from the night before. In a day or so, you were sure it would pass. 
Dunking empty bowls in ice-cold river water helped cool your thoughts as you tried to focus on what to make for dinner. The Orcs stocks were pretty hefty, but they and the children ate a lot. You’d noticed many of the parents tipping some of their bowls into their little one’s, making sure they were fed properly in case the next meal didn’t come. 
It saddened you it had to be this way. What horrible person decides to burn down their own citizens' village? Who was the King even protecting you from? Not the Orcs, that’s for sure. 
A loud rabble outside dragged your attention away from the dishes, and you picked up your poker before peeking your head outside. 
A few Orc scouts were speaking in rapid Orcish to Cedar. When they paused, his eyes immediately looked around for the children and frowned before he spoke to you all. 
“The human King has sent reinforcements. They will close on our camp by nightfall.” 
The mothers all gathered their children to their skirts, looking weary. 
“Women and children to the kitchen tent! We will keep you safe, but you must stay hidden!” 
You made way as a small stampede of humans rushed past you, many pushing their children to hide under the table. 
“What’s happening?” You asked Cedar as people and Orcs rushed around. 
He scrubbed his hand over his jaw, looking disturbed. 
“Someone ran back to your King with a story that we’d kidnapped you, not taken you in from starving in a burnt-down village. We will win this fight, but then we will have to make the journey back to the capitol. They will keep attacking if they think you’re within their grasp. Do you think you can explain this to your people? We don’t intend to take anyone by force, but I wouldn’t trust the King’s soldiers.”
“Yes, of course. Whatever you need.”
You hurried back to the kitchen, where the humans were muttering to one another. 
“Should we flee to the forest?” Isla, the former town candlemaker, asked. “Can we depend on the Orcs to protect us?” 
Another woman scoffed. 
“We can’t trust anyone. These Orcs are kind now, but they’ll sell us out at the drop of a hat.” 
Linda, a quiet woman who worked as a weaver, whimpered. 
“But we’ll starve in the forest alone. Word is the King’s men have raized every town for fifty miles!” 
You inserted yourself into the conversation, holding up your hands. 
“No one needs to escape to the woods. The Orcs are going to take us back to their capitol to keep us safe.” 
Linda squeaked in horror. 
“The Orc capitol?! Where they can enslave us?!” 
“They have no plan to enslave you. Don’t you want your children to be safe? We will be safe behind their walls!” 
“Or…when the King takes the city we’ll all be hung as traitors!” 
“Shawna, don’t put that in her head. Linda, we’ll be fine. I trust Cedar.” 
You paused on that thought, realizing not only was it true, it didn’t make any sense. You’d only just met him. Your conversation was interrupted by the shouting of men outside. 
“We’ll talk about this later,” you hissed, “Here, take this.” 
You armed the humans with whatever haphazard weapons you could find, mostly butcher knives and skillets. 
Outside, you could hear the clang of weapons and the squelching sounds of metal piercing flesh. 
“What's happening?” Linda asked, trying to get around you so she could peek out of the tent flap. 
“Stay back!” You barked. “If they see us, we’re in trouble!” 
You could tell she was losing it, hopping from one foot to another, her hands getting slippery on her knife. 
“No, no, no,” she whimpered. “I don’t want to go with the Orcs. Even a human monster is better than them!” 
Before you could grab her, she skipped through the doorway, running wildly into the fray. The other humans gathered around you, their opinions spilling out like loose marbles. 
“What is she thinking?!” 
“Linda, come back!” 
“Let her go, she’s nuts.” 
You clenched your jaw, squeezing your iron poker. 
“She’s scared. I’ll go get her…you all stay put!” 
Before anyone could stop you, you darted after her, trying to catch sight of her red skirt through the mess of armour-clad humans and massive Orcs. The King had sent a much larger force than the one that had burned down your village. The battle around you was brutal. You almost slipped on a puddle of blood, your eyes frantically searching for Linda. 
You found her pointing her knife with shaking hands at a human soldier. 
“What are you doing? I’m a human, too!” 
“The King ordered you all dead!” he snarled, raising his sword at her. “No witnesses! Come on, do your duty to the kingdom, and die quietly!” 
Panicking, you launched yourself at him, whacking him with your poker as you barreled into him. The two of you went down, metal clashing as you fell and dropped your weapons. Both of you scrabbled for purchase in the blood-soaked earth. You could hear Linda screeching beside you as you tried to overpower the soldier. His armor, now slick with mud, made it impossible to get a hold of him, and he triumphantly dragged himself to his sword, clumsily grabbing it by the blade and flinging it in your direction. You saw the metal flash in the firelight before pain exploded between your eyes, and your vision went black. 
“Please tell me she’s not dead,” you heard Linda’s voice from far away. 
Isla scoffed. 
“You’d better hope she’s not, Linda. This is all your fault!” 
“I'm sorry!” she simpered, “I made a mistake! I thought the soldiers were here to free us!” 
“Free us from what? A good meal and a safe place to sleep?”
You dragged your eyelids open, vision blurry for a moment before it cleared. 
“What…what happened?” you murmured. 
“She’s awake!” Isla gasped. 
You felt her cool hands against your cheek. 
“Take it slow, here; have some water.” 
She pushed a tin cup into your hands, and you wet your palette with a few sips. Looking around, you were surrounded by the humans, all looking very concerned. 
“Is everyone okay?” you asked. 
Isla smirked, and the other women tittered a bit. 
“Thanks to you, I suppose. That chieftain or warlord or whatever saw you get knocked in the head and went berzerk. He killed most of the soldiers all by himself.” 
Another woman poked her head out of the tent. 
“She’s okay! You guys can untie him!” 
“Untie who? Is the battle over?” 
Isla nodded.
“Yeah, all the soldiers are dead. We’ve all been waiting for you to wake up so we can move the camp before the King sends anymore. Can you believe he ordered them to kill us? I guess so he could claim the Orcs did it and get more support for the war.”
She smirked at you. 
“And as for who's tied up, your Orc friend thought you were dead. The others had to tie him up so he wouldn’t go on a rampage. He was ready to storm the King’s stronghold! You ought to see the ropes they had to use…thick as your waist!” 
You heard the roll of stomping feet, and Cedar burst through the tent flap. His hair was wild, and his tunic was red with blood. He fell to his knees in front of you, holding his hands as if he couldn’t decide if you were safe to touch. 
“Are you okay?” he asked, carefully prodding the bandage you had wrapped around your head. “That monster didn’t do any permanent damage, did he?” 
“She’ll have a scar,” Isla said, “but I think she’s fine.” 
Cedar’s face lightened, pulling you towards him, his big arms wrapping around you. 
“Thank the goddess,” he sighed with a heavy breath. “I thought they’d taken you from me.” 
He cupped your cheeks between his palms when he finally let you go. 
“You are so stupidly brave, little one,” he gasped, eyes wet. “You have more honor than your people deserve.” 
Behind him, Isla waved the women out of the tent, leaving the two of you alone. Not used to so much intimate attention, your cheeks warmed, and you weren’t sure where to look. 
“I just didn’t want Linda to get hurt,” you muttered. 
He gave you an odd smile, scooping you out of the cot you’d woken up in. 
“Once I get you to our home in the capitol, I’m going to have to keep you locked up for your own safety,” he said, patting your head. 
You looked up at him from where you were tucked, leaning on his bicep. 
“Our home?” 
He grinned at you, counting on his fingers. 
“First step to Orc courting: Threaten your desired with your weapon. Done. Step two: Allure them with your cooking skills, cooking or hunting something delicious. Done. And the final step: Display your honor through a grand act of bravery. Done! You’ve effectively and thoroughly seduced me, little one! All that’s left is to take you home!” 
He tipped your chin up with one thick finger and dipped his head to press his lips against yours. Your whole body felt like it was made of butterflies, every nerve flickering with excitement. Despite being covered in blood and mud, his kiss tasted like honey and sage. It felt like a warm cup of tea on a chilly morning. Your eyelashes fluttered shut and you sank into his warmth, despite yourself, happy to be alive and in his arms.
“Oh!” you gasped as he straightened his neck.
Your mouth fell open, unsure what to say. Before you could think of anything, Cedar carried you out of the tent, shouting orders at his men to pack up the camp so you could leave for the capitol.
2K notes · View notes
historiaxvanserra · 4 months
Text
Whatever Our Souls Are Made Of
Pairing: SingleDad!Rhys x Reader
Summary: After his mate and the mother of his son abandons them, The High Lord and Nyx are left alone and wanting.
Word Count: 3.9k
Warnings: allusions to sexual assault, allusions to depression, abandonment, broken homes (y'know keeping it light, in all seriousness this is not all angst it's quite sweet actually).
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The sky is painted in hues of lavender and mauve and the flowering ivory clouds shade Velaris in a perpetual state of dusk. The silvery light of the waxing moon seems to cast you in a gentle opal light as you approach the opulent manor. The High Lord’s townhouse is nestled in the heart of the city of starlight and wreathed in the colors of twilight; a slate facade that looks as though it is crowned in green, climbing ivy and night-blooming jasmine frame the large bay windows on the ground floor. From here you can see the large stained-glass window on the top floor, light refracts and it casts a myriad of dancing light onto the stone below-- dappled pinks and roses that fracture and give way to amethyst and indigo.
You spare a look to your aged companion as she breaches the threshold of the High Lord’s residence and, on unsteady feet, approaches the ornate wooden door and knocks thrice. 
You remain for a moment a solitary figure at the entryway of the property, contemplating the series of events that led you here. Mother above, you chastise yourself. The thought occurs to you then, that perhaps you had made a mistake in coming here; that you should have given yourself more time, that you should have remained in the quiet solitude of the library where the world seems like a bitter memory. 
“Come, girl.” Madja’s voice is tired and impatient as she beckons you closer with the wave of a crooked finger. “Don’t just stand there.” 
You swallow thickly, bowing your head in obedience and you notice how her eyes soften as you approach the door tentatively.
“Nervous?” the old woman asks, you feel her eyes on you-- examining and critical.
“A little,” You admit, eyes downcast as you loose a shaky breath, “I haven’t left the library besides for training in quite some time.”
You stare down at the sleeves of your faded pewter robes as they billow in the evening breeze; the silver embroidery around the cuffs has begun to fray and the layers of fabric gather about your waist, the pleats have been poorly ironed and the heavy fabric falls over the curve of your hip haphazardly and pools to the floor in a swathe of heavy cotton. Shame pools in your stomach at the sight of your slippers as they peek out from the skirts of your robe. 
It’s about time you asked Clotho for a new set of robes you think. 
“You’ve met him before, no?” Madja’s voice breaks the tenuous peace you have found in those moments. You look up at her and a deep set frown graces her weathered face, “when you first came to Velaris?”
The visions fall on you like night; the Moonstone Palace saturated in onyx and jade, the reflections of your face in the marble of the throne room floor, the sentries as they dragged you before the High Council. The sounds of your screams and a sea of rubies and pearls as the bodice of your dress is torn away from your heaving chest-- all that red. Terrible and red. 
Hewn City had always been cruel to you. You, a useless daughter to an ambitious man. The dreams are less vivid now but the sound of footsteps on marble still haunts you. 
“Yes, it was him who brought me to Velaris-- after-afterwards,” You acquiesce to her questioning, eyes set on the light beyond the frosted glass panes of the onyx doorway, “though I doubt he remembers.”
Your avenging angel.
Madja looks at you carefully, taking account of you before she nods to you in silent acknowledgement. 
The door to the High Lords townhouse opens with a flourish to reveal Morrigan. She’s more beautiful than you remember, radiant even as the dark shadows of sleep cling to her. Her golden hair hangs in loose waves over the delicate curve of her shoulder and though the deep umber of her eyes meets yours in a warm inviting stare as she utters your name. 
She knows your name. 
“Come on in from the cold.” she beckons you with the curve of a slender hand. You smile politely as you cross the threshold of the house. The wards fall away as you pass through into the foyer and the smell of mandarin and night blooming jasmine flood your senses. 
The foyer to the townhouse is truly beautiful; a testament to the fine artistry and craftsmanship that seemed to define Velaris’ art district. The walls are paneled wood, painted in a shade of twilight that can only be found here, in The Night Court, and the burgundy carpet so rich in color that it reminds you of a blood moon, the oil paintings that hang on the walls seem to exude an air of majesty unlike anything you’ve ever seen. 
In this room night reigns triumphant and you behold it all with a sense of wonder and awe. A careful deference to the love and care contained between these walls. It is a home that has been truly cherished by the people that live here. 
“Did Madja tell you why you had been summoned here?” Morrigan’s voice is soft and sweet and the feeling of her hand on your robed arm pulls you from your thoughts. 
“Sorry - I - uh” I stutter, glancing between her hand on my arm and the unyielding warmth of her gaze. “No she didn’t, only that there was a position in the High Lord’s household that Clotho recommended me for.”
“It was my recommendation actually,” Morrigan smiles proudly, letting her hand drop to her side idly. “Clotho just happened to agree.” The words leave her lips with the ghost of a smirk as she recalls the conversation between her and the High Priestess.
The last time you had spoken to Morrigan would have been in Hewn City, all those years ago. You abandon yourself to those days; when you had been the cursed daughter of a capricious Lord. The girl you were died under that mountain. The woman that stands in her place had been forged of blood, and splintered bone-- made strong by violence and tempered by time.
You nod solemnly and cast a glance to Madja who watches on in quiet curiosity. 
“Rhys is upstairs,” Morrigan says softly to you both, gesturing up the staircase to the upper level of the house, “I’ll fetch him down”. 
You notice then how troubled Mor looks. The rings around her eyes are pale purple and blue and her skin, once radiant, has become pale and sallow. She begins her ascent up the stairs with a small wave of her hand signaling Madja to follow. From here you can see a singular light that pierces through the blanket of the dark that shrouds the upper levels of the house.
Mor regards you once more as Madja passes her on the stairs and points towards the ornate door that leads to the antechamber at the heart of the house. “Go on in, we won’t be a moment.” In a flourish of golden blonde hair and crimson Morrigan winnows away and leaves you to linger in the foyer for a quiet moment. 
The smell of cherries and marigold shades the air in her absence.
Voices, disembodied and distant from the upper levels of the house draw you into the heart of the house.
The antechamber of the High Lords townhouse is a beautiful living room, plunged into near darkness spare the slivers of jade light that dapple the dark walls from the emerald chandelier, even in the darkness you can make out the dark marble of the hearth that is draped with moonflowers and ivy. The low backed chairs are elegant and worn from use and there are books strewn about the room and a small library contained neatly in the alcove. 
Your eyes find the painting hung above the hearth; immortalized on oil and canvas the High Lord of Night and his Lady. The High Lord is painted in a deep navy tunic and the silver paint mimics the delicate embroidery favored by the Velarian tailors in The Rainbow. His violet eyes shine bright against the dark. 
He is a thing of dark beauty, you think.
In this light, his High Lady looks as though she is wreathed in starlight as smiles down on the antechamber from her place above the hearth. You observe the pointed curve of her nose and the upturn of her cerulean eyes and something aching and jealous festers in you at the sight of her beauty. 
Otherworldly and ethereal.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” The low tenor of a man calls out from the darkness of the room, the voice is measured and devoid of any emotion as it permeates the dark. The male cuts an intimidating figure in the low light and all thought and sound eddies from your mind. You’re sure the sound of your heart like an echoing war drum is loud enough to shake the mountains as he takes a step towards you.
“High Lord?” you question. He steps further into the light and you regard him pensively; his skin is pallid and his eyes are ringed with dark circles of amethyst that trouble you. His onyx hair is left tousled and the ends have grown long enough to curl away from the harsh lines of his face. The sharp junction of his jaw has become obscured by the smatterings of coarse, black hair that grow there.
Even still, even in the unforgiving jade light, he is the most beautiful male you have ever seen. He smells of night blooming jasmine and violets undercut with something inherently masculine. Pine and whiskey perhaps. 
His presence is something truly captivating; dark and intoxicating. When he looks at you there is only dark in those violet eyes. 
The High Lord sinks into the worn armchair by the hearth with a deep sigh and for a moment he allows his eyes to flutter closed as he breathes deeply and all you can do is surrender yourself to that dark magnetism. The dying fire in the hearth warms him and in this light you notice the golden hues of his skin and the dark inky trails tattooed across the planes of his chest where his shirt opens. 
“You’re staring--” The High Lord’s violet eyes falls onto you. In those liminal spaces between the seconds, when he is looking at you, all ceases to be. You tilt your chin downwards, hoping to avert his gaze, as you offer him a courteous bow. 
“My apologies High L-” the apology is cut off by the High Lords gentle protests. None of that, Love.
You pray to the mother that he doesn’t notice the flush along the tops of your cheeks or the wild fluttering of your heart at the pet name.
“Sit down,” The High Lord gestures simply to the seat across from him by the hearth and his whole demeanor is somehow softer when you deign to look at him again. Wordlessly you comply with his request, a careful hand runs down the length of your robes to smooth out the lazy pleats in the skirt as they fan out around you in the low backed chair and while you don’t dare to meet his eyes directly you can feel him looking at you.
    “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologizes though his voice is distant, despondent even and his eyes find the painting that looms over the hearth. “The portrait-- It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He muses, tipping the rim of his whiskey glass towards the portrait. 
“Very beautiful, High Lord.” you agree, smoothing the heavy material of your robes again. He watches you then with a curious glint in his eyes and he takes a few moments to assess you.
“Just Rhysand will do,” He smiles lightly, though there's a sense of apprehension as he regards you playing with the threads of your sleeves for the third time in so many moments, “there’s no need for such formalities when it’s just the two of us.” 
“No of course not,” You agree and look at him through thick lashes and offer him a small smile in return, “forgive me, I’m--” you extend a hand to him over the small end table between the arm chairs and he takes it in earnest shaking it lightly. A calloused pad of his thumb rubs an absentminded circle into the skin of your hand before he brings your hand, trembling and slender, to the sulk of his lips and places a chaste kiss against the knuckles. 
“I know who you are, Priestess,” he says lightly-- playfully. You offer him a polite laugh in return and nod your head again. 
Something dark burns in his eyes in those moments; silver and violet. Like the darkness between the stars. He smiles to himself then, a soft beautiful thing. A secret shared between him and the dying light in the hearth as he picks at an errant threat on the stitching of his shirt.
“Why am I here, Rhysand?” You ask, inhaling deeply, hoping that his answer might assuage the anxiety that has been coiling in your stomach all afternoon. The door to the antechamber opens then and light, golden and radiant spills into the room all at once. The radiant light reveals the room to you fully, you observe the emerald velvet chairs and the dark wood furnishings, the landscapes hung on the walls and the rare manuscripts and novels bound all in black that line the walls. 
This house is something truly breathtaking. 
It feels like a home you realize. 
“There you are!” Morrigan's velvet voice smothers the morose tension in the room as she comes into view. She’s since shed the tiredness that plagued her before and you notice the way her hair frames her face like a halo of gold in the soft ochre light. In her arms, swaddled in sapphire spider silk, is the High Lord’s son. 
“We were beginning to wonder where you had gone.” Mor coos at the bundle in her arms as she approaches Rhysand who takes the babe in his strong arms. 
As if he could get any more beautiful-- the man looks as though he was carved by The Mother. 
It’s wrong, you know. He is your High Lord and you are…
The cursed daughter of a capricious Lord, you remind yourself.
Rhysand glances at me hesitantly and I meet his eyes briefly before focusing on the babe in his arms. He’s since broken loose from the swaddling and his chubby fist clutches at his fathers shirt. I can just see the top of his little head, it's all tufts of curly blue-black hair and pointed pink ears. You smile fondly to yourself as he continues to wriggle in his father’s grasp. 
Gods, it’s been so long since you had smiled that wide without the feeling of guilt that usually attends it. 
“You used to be a governess, didn’t you?” Mor says by way of explanation for your summons. To her credit her smile never falters even as your demeanor hardens against her, “Clotho said you had talked about it a few times.” 
“Yes. I was,” You admit swallowing thickly, your voice comes out strained like the words themselves pain you to speak, “that was a long time ago though.”
That had been long before him. 
You must have only been a youngling yourself. You had been happy-- that much you remember. Those were the happy recollections of your old life; summers spent under the opal lights of The Moonstone place, children’s laughter like birdsong that breaks apart in the humid air as you danced and sang long into the nights. Of dark autumns and smoky air, a bonfire and a small hand that holds your own with such gentle reverence. 
“Clotho said you wanted to leave the Library?” Rhysand questions you, his eyes are dark and filled with a thinly veiled darkness that draws you into their depths as you speak to him without pretense. 
“I do,” You answer him honestly, your voice wavering only a little, “I don’t want to spend my days rotting in the depths of that House.”
Rhysand considers it carefully and his face twists into a pained expression that almost breaks your resolve. You hadn’t meant to hurt him-- never. But you’re done hiding in the dark. 
The world is a cruel place and full of cruel men. It always had been and it always will be. There is nought you can do to change that. So why should you cower from the world any longer? 
You want to live. 
The whining of the restless babe in Rhys’ arms rouses your attention and something akin to longing gathers in your chest as you regard him. You pull a lip between your teeth as he fusses and Rhysand struggles to soothe him. The babe looses a cry that comes out as a pitiful howl and you can feel a small ripple of power permeate the air.
“May I hold him?” The words take everyone in the room by surprise and the High Lord only nods easily and stands to pass the babe into your arms.
“I’m grateful,” You continue as Rhysand stands before you and transfers his son’s weight into the crook of your arm, “To you and your court for providing me, and girls like me with somewhere to heal but--” 
“But you weren’t meant to cower in the darkness of the library forever.” Rhysand’s words come out as little more than a whisper and the feeling of his warm breath on your skin is something entirely perverse. 
You shake your head, mouthing an inaudible ‘no’ before lowering yourself back into the chair by the hearth, hoping to hide the rosy blush that spreads across your cheeks. Rhys doesn’t retreat back into his armchair like you had thought he might and instead sinks to his knees before you and allows one of his son's fists to wrap around his ring finger. The babe seems to quieten then in your arms as he nuzzles against your chest, one balled first clinging to his father and the other pulling at the neckline of your robes and he smiles sleepily in your arms.
Looking at him now you are overcome with the realization of the absence that had stained this family’s happiness. Rhysand had given himself completely to a woman who had changed her mind. And their son-- their son; all cherub cheeked and big blue eyes framed with dark lashes-- had been abandoned by the woman who was supposed to love him without condition. Before the ghost of her had been an abstract thing. Something intangible and errant, a whisper or a memory, but now, as you look between the babe in your arms and the woman immortalized about the hearth you feel nothing but biting fury. A dangerous wrath only tempered by the stilling of the High Lord beside you. 
It is Morrigan’s movement at the side of the room that rouses you from thought. “Then perhaps we can come to an arrangement?” The smile that graces her lips is brilliant and calculating and the sparkle in those umber eyes tells you she is genuine in his intentions.
“An arrangement?” You ask hesitantly, raising one arched brow to her. 
“Yes.” The High Lord nods in agreement as Morrigan approaches you all casually, sauntering over to snatch a glass of wine from the decanter, “you’re free to leave the Library at any time but--”
“Help me take care of Nyx,” The High Lord beats you to it, his voice is soft and gentle and one of his fingers runs along the curve of Nyx’s ear as he begins to doze in your arms. 
“High Lor-” You start, and you’re torn between declining outright and trying to dissuade them altogether, “Mor, I haven’t cared for a babe in well over 60 years.”
“Listen to me,” Rhysand’s violet gaze is unyielding and when you can no longer avert his gaze he takes on of your hands in his own and all but pleads with you,  “take care of Nyx, for one year-- just until I get used to doing it on my own-- just until he starts his pre-schooling.” 
The thought of him raising his son all alone pains you, a physical, bone deep ache that settles over you. You mourn for him then, for the love he thought he had, for all that he lost and then you mourn for the babe in your arms. For the son who will grow up without knowing his mother’s love. The High Lord looks at you through dark lashes and you note the tiredness in his eyes and the desperate sadness that seems to radiate from him these days and yet, he smile softly at you. As one might smile at something lovely and precious. 
“And in return?” You ask peering down at him with sympathetic eyes when his whole body goes lax.
“I’ll help you get set up somewhere-- anywhere you want.” The words come quickly and if you were a cruel woman you would see what more he would offer you. But when he’s looking at you like you might just be his last hope you can’t find it in you to do anything but allow yourself to be persuaded by him.
You see a home; a cottage maybe, made of ancient stone and covered with climing ivy and jasmine. On the outskirts of Velaris, away from the artisans and market stalls of the main square, but close enough that you never feel truly alone. A home and it smells of mandarin and moonflowers, the sound of children laughing, and a garden blooming with violets in the garden in the leonine yellow heat of high summer. You smile wistfully and you swear you feel the gentle caress of a hand in your mind's eye. 
“You can live here with us in the meantime” Rhysand continues gesturing to the house around you. 
It’s warm and inviting and your body sings in response to the prospect. 
“I don’t think that's a good--” 
“Just until you find somewhere of your own.” He assures you standing to his full height before you. He casts a morose glance to the portrait that hangs about the hearth and you can see the moment his violet eyes meet painted cerulean. 
“Rhys--” You warn gently. 
“Please,” He turns to you again and the desperation in his tone has you yielding to him further, a gentle sweep over your face before settling on the sleeping babe in your arms, “please.” He repeats it once more and you swear your heart breaks just a little bit for him. 
He had saved you once, you think. You had only been a girl then but you remember looking at him in that light; he looked like the shadow of some dark winged God-- avenging and angelic.
Perhaps this time the girl can save the God.
“A bargain then.” You muse lightly holding out a pinky finger to him.
Rhysand huffs out a laugh and curls his finger around your own. Nyx’s hand seems to flex in response, his own tiny pinky finger outstretched in agreement. 
“A bargain.” With the simple confirmation you feel the gentle burn of a promise as it kisses its way up your wrist, and you see Rhysand’s own inky sigil as it glows faintly on the skin of his outstretched arm.
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kurogxrix · 1 year
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Loved the Ao’nung concept can we get another one where his female mate sees him out with his friends fishing and she is upset about something and walks into his arms resting her head on his chest breathing his scent in for comfort, his friends start laughing but he hisses shutting them up instantly focusing on her calling her his favourite pet name before asking her what’s wrong and just holds her in his arms comforting her, thanks
Ao’nung x Metkayina!reader
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Young men’s laughter resonated by the shore. A group of boys could be seen throwing sand at each other, a childish way of spending time together. Ao’nung doubled back as a pile of sand hit the side of his face, just about grazing his wide open mouth. His smile faltered for a second as he looked for who had just assaulted him with the sand ball and the entire group went silent under his harsh glare. 
Soon enough, the laughter returned and the cheery atmosphere resurfaced in the midst of the hunter’s group. It wasn’t everyday that they could spend a day together like young teens again, because as they grew, so did their pile of duties. Fishing peacefully at the dock had been one of the most relaxing ways to reunite with the group of friends.
Ao’nung raised a hand to his hair as he smoothed his baby hairs back down. He made a mental check to ask if you could rebraid them once he got back home. 
Talking about you, the soft voice that had seemed to call out for his name sounded awfully similar to yours. Maybe because it was, and he was met with the dejected sight of you once he had turned around. You looked so crestfallen that his heart had to double take, but he eventually pulled himself together as he stood tall before you and his friends.
He put his wooden fishing rod beside him as he walked away from the shore, leaving his snickering friends behind. A fish caught onto his hook, pulling his rod into the ocean with little to no care as one of Ao’nung’s friend had to come and retrieve it before it disappeared forever. He remained silent as he watched your unmoving frowned-lips twitch at the sound of his friends snickering, but you paid no other attention to them.
You were here for your mate and not one of his knucklehead friend. Your footsteps led you to exactly where you had wanted to be, and your arms encircled his torso as you nuzzled your face in his hard chest. Ao’nung huffed when your head made harsh contact with his chest, but he eventually melted as he saw your shoulders drop. His embrace and presence brought you comfort, and as much as he didn’t know the reasons of it, he knew that you needed it right now. 
His ears flattened at the sound of blaring laughter, and he turned his head around to throw a harsh glare at his friends once more. Though it wasn’t enough to calm their tittering, the venomous hiss that he sent them was what had shut them up. His fangs were bared and on display as he mirrored his mother’s fierceness, and everyone feared Ronal. 
Ignoring the now awkward silence behind him, he turned his head back to you, bringing a finned hand up to caress your hair. His touch and mere presence was enough to ground you, and his scent had invaded the deepest part of your body. His chest heaved as he chuckled at your clinginess, the feeling of your nose against his chest slightly tickling him. 
“What is wrong, yawne?” he questioned, not bothering to move you from your comfortable spot in his chest. Your tail swaggered involuntarily at the nickname, and for a second you had forgotten all of your worries. His concern picked up at your silence, but the sight of your tail picking up the pace told him that it was nothing serious.
“Nothing important, just needed to be near you.” you murmured as your face was still burried into his chest, your voice being muffled by his body. “We can discuss it once you get home, for now you should rejoin your friends. Go before an akula catches onto your hook,” you joked, finally lifting your head up to meet his similar aqua eyes. They were so full of love that they melted all of your worries away, and the hands that had snaked their way towards your back made you feel so warm.
Ao’nung grinned at your joke, before turning around swiftly to check on his forgotten rod, only to see that one of his friends had it in check beside him. The said boy nodded his head towards Ao’nung in a signal to tell him to go, and so he did. 
“Actually, I think I'd rather go now. Plus you can catch me up on whatever is making you upset as you redo my braids.” he caressed the side of your face endearingly as you felt yourself leaning into his touch. You nodded your head moderately before the both of you set off towards your shared marui, hands firmly clasped together.
He’d make it up to his friends on another day, and he was sure that they’d forgive him. For, friends always tease each other, this just wasn’t the time for it and it didn’t mean that Ao’nung had resented them for it either. For now, Ao’nung had mate duties that he had to attend, and even if it means staying up all night to hear you talk about your sorrows, then he will make sure that his eyelids do not even flicker as you express yourself. 
-
sorry this took so long to come out!🫶🏽
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nmyphomania · 7 months
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╰┈➤ ❝ [Kinktober Day 3: Breeding]❞
Summary: Some advisors piss Zuko off about a baby, and he decides you’re the only one who can fix this situation.
Warning(s): F! Reader, breeding, mating press, messy kissing, rough sex, snowballing, mouth-spitting, minor dirty talk, dub-con if you read in between the lines, creampie, multiple orgasms
WC: 1.6k
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•𑁍•
You never really understood how you and Zuko could possibly go from one situation, to an entirely different one in seemingly mere minutes. More appropriately, an hour or two ago. His advisors were talking to him about how they oh so needed an heir to the throne to be conceived at once. How they preferred a boy to become the next to hold the title of the Fire lord, another preferred that he should be taught extensive firebending training to become as powerful as Zuko was by sixteen. Zuko came back to his quarters pissed as ever just listening to the advisors, he couldn’t believe half of the shit that ran loosely from their ignorant mouths.
The more thoughts of the meeting streamed through his head, the harder he plowed his hips down into you. Thinking about the situation never made his temper falter from any less upset he was in those moments, the bed underneath began to thump against the solid walls unforgivingly. Zuko’s hands went to grip at your fleshy hips, hammering himself forcibly into your salivating folds that could only go basically numb from his assaults. She submitted to his every will during his bout of anger, wails somewhat muffled out due to the thickness of the duvets on the bed, eyes going straight to the back of her head each time Zuko would slam dead on her g spot.
“You want a fucking heir, I’ll give you one, maybe even fucking three.” He spat, more to himself than out loud. You, however, heard this and wholly melted into the mattress with a significantly louder sob than the rest. The man above you lifted his leg up to stamp flatly in the mattress to support his impossibly deeper movements, they sped up smoothly with all his preceding thrusts, greatly affecting the ability to intake a proper lung-full of air. It's like he was a different person when he was upset, there was no negotiation on power play, no playfulness, nothing. He just raw-dogged your insides into a thick pulp with your fucking third orgasm of the night.
His hips spanked fat red marks into the underside of your ass, the rough contact didn’t even hurt anymore. The pain had grown so great that now every time he slapped painfully on your skin, the harsh sting was reduced to a dull, numbed out soreness. From your fingers flying all the way down to your toes felt like pins and needles prickling the surface of your naked body, even your throat started to burn from all the screaming your vocals could barely even support. He finally groaned longingly once your walls came in on his dick, spewing out another trail of juices from the couple’s connection. A strong hand gripped until fingernail marks dug into your flesh, aiding him to propel you back onto his length to intensify his hips’ jolts forward.
A burning sensation now stinging at his pelvis from the reckless use of his toned hips along with his propped up leg, the ecstatic crescendo of his orgasm peaking just behind a couple more thrusts. Drilling the head of his cock so deep he was sure he made it to her heated womb desperately asking for his cum to breed her to the brim and beyond. To plant whatever he could produce from his depths in the midst of her beaten up insides. Heaving his angry arousal along the embrace of her gummy walls around him.
“‘m gonna, do it in you. I hope that’s alright..” He muttered out almost apprehensively. You choked out whatever intelligible words you could form, “Y-yes…Zuko.”
Zuko abruptly flipped you around to stay put on your back, legs being pushed back until her knees hit the mattress beside her head. Standing slightly above her, he moved closer to re enter inside of her in such a crude position on the surface of the bed. From over her own body, he planted deeply inside of her messy pussy, roughly molding out his dick inside of her pitiful sex like some hungry animal. Tears accumulated at the corners of your eyes from the physically demanding position you were now forced into, your legs felt like they could give out from being pushed beyond their flexibility limits. All liquids being forced out of you splashing on his face, creating a wet sheen over his body.
Long, drawn out keens from the both if you sounded into the atmosphere of the room from your mutual stomach-caving finish. Zuko fucked his orgasm inside of her even further, plunging whatever wasn’t already balls deep inside of her. It's like his cock touched the very part of her soul that made something snap in her mind, continuing his jarring pushes downward. So deep, so big, so amazing, you could virtually feel the thickness of the base of his dick in your throat, never letting up fucking you as passionately as he did.
“Give me another I know you can do it f’me love.”
Everything went impractically faster leaving you a filthy mess, you couldn’t even think straight without thinking about how his dick is currently beating down your guts at the moment. Drool seeped steadily from the corner of your mouth, eyes twitching from the immense amount of pressure and jerks from the overwhelming senses of their sex. You could barely wrap your arms around him as he had you mostly pinned down in this foreign position, so deciding it was best to just lay there and take it like some desperate bitch. Sputters, some bubbles and your eyes glued to the back of your head, your mouth left gaping as he leaned over to kiss you gently on your exposed neck.
“Good angi, give it to me Zuko!”
The breathed-out comment sent something rushing through his veins, he couldn’t decipher it but god, the way she looked him into his eyes taunting; hell even daring him to get her all sorts of knocked up. As knocked up as he could even get her, filling her up until her stomach bulged even more prominently. He grew dizzy, legs failing to keep him up through the process of gaining one more blissful finish, his voice nothing more than hoarse whispers of sighs, pants, all telltale signs of him getting so much closer.
Zuko strokes decelerated gently, allowing him to continue to delve inside her deep, relaxing his body so that he can place a firm hand to wrap itself on the base of her neck.
“Open.” She listened wordlessly, he conjured up a petty strand of saliva to spit into the warmth of her open mouth. Letting her lap at his dribble by sticking her tongue out wide, and flicking at anything that came from him. This urged you two into a languid kiss, breathing frantically against each other’s mouths whilst Zuko resumed his previous pace from before. Their lips would meet every now and then, but not for long. You sucked in his bottom lip, licking up into the unexplored space of his mouth. He took the chance to wrap his lips around your tongue, bobbing his head unhurriedly, almost methodically.
As the night dragged on, the both of you were nearly drunk off each other’s lips, hands, skin even. Another couple of orgasms came out of the time and effort both of you put into loving on each other all of his cum only reserved for going inside of you, now working on the final one of the night, the two of you were pressed on the wall rutting into each other like some hormonal teenagers. She threw her head back on the wall with a thud, swallowing thickly, a slightly painful climax ripping through her sobbing pussy. Zuko pulled out of you entirely once he finally came, making you drop on your knees to catch his cum in your mouth. His whole figure tenses and jerks erratically in the heat of the climax, clouding his mind and any thoughts that seemed to run rampant. He huffed, bringing his hand up to bite down on a fist while he blew his literal bodily capacity inside your tight mouth.
As you took all of the stripes of white flinging all over in both your mouth and throat, his abs convulsed and rolled under his pale skin. You watch as he furrowed his eyebrows, dropping his fist out from between his teeth in awe at how hard he came.
“Don’t swallow, c’mere”
Going to pull yourself up with the use of the nearby nightstand, he brought both of his hands to snake around your neck before pulling you into a deep kiss. He swirled around his own essence with his curious tongue, wiping away the stray trail falling from the side of your mouth. It was thick, sloppy, and almost sweet tasting; and the two of them shared how ever much could be evenly distributed between each other.
His right hand went to trace around your figure that outlined your body he knew all too well, traveling across the stuffed swell of your stomach. Maybe, and hopefully so, that a few healthy babies could be conceived from your bred and worked out body. Some of it dripped along the plushness of your thigh, running out from between your naked folds from the overfill he bestowed on her from the events of that evening. Just beautiful, he never said this aloud but he thought it, sliding his hand down even further to fully palm possessively at your throbbing heat he could most definitely lose his mind over.
•𑁍•
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h4m1lt0ns · 19 days
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HEARTBREAK SYNDROME.
episode fourteen :: HEAR ME OUT.
꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ pairing ︴various, lewis hamilton x y/n
꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ genre ︴social media au / irl snippets
꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ summary ﹔girl you will not believe who texted y/n
꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ face claim ﹔ wonyoung jang (28)
꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ warnings ﹕ excessive cussing, none.
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y/n: i’m sorry who is this?
xxx-xxx: it’s kelly
y/n: ?
y/n: kelly piquet?
xxx-xxx: unfortunately
xxx-xxx: its an emergency.
xxx-xxx: and girl to girl, we NEED to talk.
y/n: OH?
xxx-xxx: i need to see you.
xxx-xxx: will u be at the qatar gp?
y/n: yes!! we can talk there, but is it urgent?
xxx-xxx: i know what you’ve seen from me gives u every reason under the sun to not even want to breath the same air as me but this is for your safety.
y/n: i got you.
y/n: see you tomorrow.
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☆ IMESSAGE with ; BOARD OF DIRECTORS.
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y/n: if you’re available for gossip irl raise ur hand
angel carmen: no bc what where you doing with that demon i thought you knew better
princess george: explain pls 😐
chal eclair: hurry up and explain bae, alex is spamming me and she’s fuming 😍
y/n: she’s spamming me too 😭
wifey lily: the girls gc is going OFFFFF
girlfriend kika: for good fucking reason
girlfriend kika: fucking explain yourself y/n
PIERRE GASLYYYY: kika’s so mad i think she might explode 😭
alabono: lily too 😭
chili!: well good thing none of them are here bc y/n would gotten assaulted
angel carmen: yeah
babygirl alex: exactly
girlfriend kika: what carlos said
wifey lily: hm.
y/n: 😟
y/n: meeting in george’s drivers room?
my baby lando: on my way !!!!
chal eclair: we all are
︴# ⸝⸝ : ★ real life ¡ ⌕ ⸝⸝ ﹒ ﹕
“everyone here?” y/n asks as everyone tried to cram in between two chairs and a sofa. “yep” carlos squeaks with charles and lando on top of him on a lazy chair, “yeah, mate” george says, him, alex, and pierre on the sofa while daniel and yuki shared the second chair.
“girls?” y/n looks at her laptop. kika, carmen, alexandra and lily were on a zoom call. “all here” kika gave a thumbs up as y/n sat in the middle of the floor. “girl.” y/n says, “oh, this is gonna be good” lando giggles, “so kelly originally texted me the day champagne, sex and anxiety dropped and i didn’t recognise the number” y/n began.
“i thought she was someone else because the number was unknown but then she was like ‘girl to girl we need to talk’, so i was a bit like, oh?, y’know?” y/n says as she passes her phone to the boys so they can read the messages.
“and when we met earlier, she was like-”
“sorry, did i miss anything?” lewis rushed into the room, seemingly a bit out of breath. “no, it was just about to begin” carmen’s slightly distorted voice says. lewis not so subtly checks y/n out, licking his lips, pierre and daniel give each other a knowing look with charles and lando give y/n a little smirk and she mouths ‘shut up’.
“is that a chair?” george chuckles, lewis placed a chair he had brought with him next to the sofa and shrugged, “well, i knew there wouldn’t be space here” lewis said as he set the chair down. he was about to sit when he notice y/n was on the floor, “wait, you come sit on it” lewis tells y/n.
“no, no, it’s okay” y/n smiles, “doll, i don’t want you sitting on the floor, it’s cold” lewis shakes his head. the rest of the drivers all quietly giggle and nudge each other as the girls text each other something about how lewis was calling you ‘doll’ in front of everyone.
“well it’s here if you need it” lewis says as he sits on the chair.
“guys, hold on, so, what did kelly say?” alex asks.
“yeah, she was like ‘i got your number from max’ phone, sorry to contact you on your personal number, blah blah blah, how was your day?’ all that, but that doesn’t matter” y/n continued, “bro, she’s breaking up with max”
charles gasps, “no, she’s not!”
“did he cheat on her too?” george asks
“here we go again” yuki chuckles.
so many questions were being asked all at once, “boys, shut up so we can understand!” kika exclaimed and the boys quickly settled down again. “they’re breaking up because of me” y/n added and the noise began once more.
“she better not be blaming that on you” lando rolled his eyes.
“what do you mean because of you? you didn’t do anything” carlos frowned.
“i just know he cheated on her” yuki laughs.
“oh my god, all of you shut up!” lily exclaims.
“no, no, wait, max has been, allegedly, loosing his mind. kelly said that ever since they announced their relationship, hes been obsessing over me. to an almost dangerous level” y/n begins again. “define obsessing” george says.
“kelly said that when heartbreak syndrome came out, he was hyper fixated on the songs. he would analyse each song, line by line to figure out which line are about him.” y/n explain. yuki’s eyes widened while charles, lewis and lando physically recoiled. “he also tried to send me a cease and desist because some of the songs were ‘too specific’” she added.
“and also-”
“no, hold on, can we talk about this? because my body had a visceral reaction” lando interrupted with a dramatic hand on his chest. “yeah, that’s a bit much” lewis nodded, pierre muttered something into his hands while carlos looked just befuddled.
“wait, y/n, there’s more? you said also?” carmen frowned. “yeah, so, remember when kelly used to copy me on social media, girl, hold on” y/n got up and began pacing around the room, “apparently, max was forcing her to copy me so she looked like the crazy obsessed one” y/n said, “shut up, no he did not!” pierre said, “girl, yes he did! because he was stalking my accounts with her account” she added.
“what the fuck?” carlos asked and daniel had a frightened look on his face. everyone in the room had shocked looks on their face as they stared at each other. all those months of what seemed like kelly copying and shading y/n was all of max’s doing. “she also said that when i signed with mercedes, he like, lost it.”
“lost it? or lost it?” kika asked, “lost it.” y/n answered. “he was up there breaking things, screaming, crying, just loosing his mind” y/n explained. “heh, he just like me for real” lando chuckled, then everyone glared at him. “i’m so funny” he added.
“did she mention the billboards thing?” daniel asked. y/n nodded as she stood next to lewis, placing a hand over his shoulder. lewis, almost subconsciously, wrapped his arm around y/n’s waist. charles and george smirked at y/n and she gave them a look that said ‘I will throw my shoe at you’. “kelly overheard max literally orchestrating the whole thing on a phone call with the red bull employees, and not only were they going to burn billboards, they wanted to burn the merch stands and my signing booth.”
“okay, what the fuck?” carlos asks again as the girls gasp. “oh? oh, he was serious serious” charles says as he half covered his mouth in shock. “what do you mean the signing booth? you could’ve gotten hurt.” lewis tightened his grip on y/n, as he says with a frown making daniel and alex nod in agreement. “yeah! that could’ve gone really fucking bad” yuki crosses his arms over his chest.
“I wanna say something crazy” y/n began.
“yeah, let’s not…” carmen said, “let’s use our critical thinking, maybe, just maybe, we shouldn’t do crazy things!” alexandra sarcastically giggled, “max was doing crazy things and look where that got him” she added. “depends on what the crazy something is” daniel said, “hey! don’t enable her!” kika scolded him making him raise his hands, “i’m just saying that if-”
“I want to talk to max.” y/n said, and everyone went quiet.
“what?” alex, george and carlos asked in unison, looking confused. “really?” charles asked as him, lando and pierre looked grossed out. “woooooow” yuki deadpanned, him and daniel were visibly upset. alexandra and carmen sighed in disappointment and lewis.. looked angry.
“you’re not seeing him” lewis said.
“but–”
“no you-” lewis inhaled deeply before continuing, “doll, he could’ve hurt you. you heard what his girlfriend said.” he said as he stroked her waist. charles and lando smirked at her, “what did I just say?! critical thinking skills!” alexandra frowned.
“y/n, babe, i don’t have the patience.” lily said with a huge fake smile, y/n put her hands up defensively; “but i have a plan, okay, here me out.” she says.
“okay, let her cook-” lando began, only to be swiftly cut off by george, “no! she’s done cooking for today. banned from the kitchen.”
“guys, oh my god, please.” y/n whined, “i just wanna ask him about some things!” she added. yuki sat up, “i’ve been saying, let me speak to him for months but no one is letting me near him.” he crossed his arms over his chest. “you’re gonna stab him, bro, no!” pierre half chuckled, “…fair.” yuki grumbled.
“there is nothing, nothing, that you and that sloth can talk about.” carlos began, “not a single thing.” he added. “but!” lando clapped, “okay.. devil’s advocate-”
“shut the fuck up.” the girls cut him off, and he placed the dramatic hand back on his chest.
“y/n” lewis said with a soft smile as he pulled her on his lap. george and alex elbowed each other while charles, lando and carlos tried their best (worst) to keep their giggles down, and yuki and pierre took photos to send to kika later.
y/n’s heart beat a bit faster and she founded herself at a loss for words, “you’re not safe around him. if there’s something you want to ask him, ask his girlfriend to communicate it to him. there’s no reason for you to break no contact after all he did. he’s disrespected you and your name in public, has stalked you, damaged private property with your face on it, do i need to keep going?” lewis asked.
y/n shook her head, “n-no, you d-don’t” she quietly answered.
“so what are you gonna do?” lewis asked, “not talk to max… privately.” she answered, he was nodding along, then he stopped. “you… what?”
“y/n, i will leap through this screen and stab you” alexandra threatened. “can we hear her out?” lando asked, “no!” the girls jumped at him again, the dramatic hand returned for a third time, “you’re just gonna let them yell at me like that?” he whined
“maybe you should hear me out!” y/n said, and there was a loud, collective of disappointment and annoyance. “and, yes, they’re your aunts, im your mother.” she answered lando.
“listen, next grand prix, all of you can be there, i just wanna ask him about the bullshit that he’s been doing.” she explained.
everyone looked at each other then at y/n, “really?” charles asked, “please?” y/n begged. “i’m in! sounds messy” lando giggled. kika chuckled, “no wonder you’re a PR nightmare.”
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vraiao · 4 months
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✰ . jealous bf!dan heng, afab!reader, reader wears a skirt, rough sex, mating press lololol, unprotected, this is short, he's mean(very), degration(slightly), monsterfucking, biting, blood, creampie, fluff & cuddling at the end, dan heng imbibitor lunae ver if that wasn't clear
when you return home, dan heng smells someone else's scent on you and is absolutely furious . . .
you had just gotten back home from shopping for a few hours and walked into your room to see dan heng sitting on your bed, legs crisscrossed and slightly levitating off the bed, as he often did when meditating. you walked past him, setting down your things and greeting him with a smile "hey, love." you weren't facing him because you were rummaging through the stuff you bought, but when he didn't respond to your greeting after a certain amount of time is when you finally turned to face him. he wasn't even looking at you, continuing to meditate with his eyes still shut-- and silent. was he ignoring you?
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with an eyebrow raised, you sauntered over to him, leaning closer so your face was level with his. you studied his face for a second before tilting your head to the side. "..'heng? something wrong?" he said nothing. pouting, you sat down next to him and began repeatedly tapping on his shoulder. "dan henngg!!" still nothing. defeated, you dramatically sighed and plopped your back down onto the bed, staring at the ceiling with an annoyed pout. why was he ignoring you? you huffed, shutting your eyes in frustration.
suddenly, you felt a light gust of air from above you and were quick to open your eyes. your gaze was met by a pair of piercing green eyes glaring down at you, his hands resting on the bed on both sides of your face. your eyes widened and you blinked at him, wondering what he was doing. you smiled and began to say something before you were cut off by him. "where were you?" he said, tone dripping with anger. you raised an eyebrow, confusion evident in your expression. "shopping?? i told you that before i left!" you said.
his eyes narrowed. "then who were you with?" he spat. okay, now you were really confused. "huh? what are you talking about? i was by myself!" out of nowhere, he swiftly brought his face to your neck and bit down harshly, his sharp fangs drawing a small amount of blood, causing you to yelp, shut your eyes, and throw your head to the side. he brought his face back up, licking the blood off of his sharp canines before forcefully grabbing your chin and repositioning your face so you'd be looking at him once more. "look at me, slut. and answer me truthfully. you reek of another man."
you whined, tears prickling your eyes and threatening to spill over. your voice urgent as you pleaded, "really, there was no-..!!" you were cut off by his teeth clashing with a different spot on your neck, just barely drawing blood this time. he began assaulting your neck with a series of harsh bites and licks, lapping up the blood he drew. you gasped and winced at the sudden harsh contact, and in between his bites and licks, he begrudgingly muttered, "you like getting attention from other men, huh? i'll show you who you belong to."
he brought his face up before crashing his lips into yours, tongue forcing its way into your mouth. he didn't pull away from the kiss until the both of you could hardly breathe, a string of saliva connecting your mouths when he did so. it only took a few seconds of heavy panting between the two of you before he lowered his face once more, continuing his assault on your neck.
running out of empty spots on your neck to mark up with hickeys and bite marks, he lifted his face up, pulling off your shirt and continuing his assault on your collarbones and the part of your neck that was hidden by your shirt. his hand slid down to your waist with a firm grip while the other pulled your skirt off and ripped your panties with minimal effort. without warning, he shoved two fingers into your cunt, causing you to gasp at the sudden intrusion.
he pumped his fingers in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace, causing you to whine and buck your hips, urging him to speed up. his other hand tightened its grip on your waist, pulling his mouth away from your neck with a scowl. "stay still," he said with a stern voice. you pouted. "but 'heng..!" you whined. in return, he scoffed. "shut up, whore. so impatient.."
he increased the pace of his fingers, but only by a little, and only for a little before he pulled his fingers out of you, shoving them into your mouth before you could even react to the empty feeling. "lick," he commanded. doing as you told, you licked and sucked your arousal off of his fingers while he glared at you. after you finished, he pulled his fingers out of his mouth and began fiddling with the buckle of his pants, pulling them down and revealing his achingly hard cock, already leaking with precum.
he lifted your legs up, pressing them flat against your chest, calves reaching over his shoulders. he positioned his hands on your waist and teasingly dragged his dick along your wet folds, muttering something about how you were a slut and a whore for even looking at another man, before snapping his hips forward, plunging deep into you without warning and making you take all of him all at once, pulling a sharp gasp from you. he was practically splitting you in half with his huge cock, but it hurt so good.
after a few seconds, he began to move, his pace slow. with each thrust, he pulled almost all the way back before abruptly thrusting back in with full force, grunting and softly gasping as he did so, but with the increasing pace of his movements, he pulled out less and less each time. his pace grew even faster and his grip on your waist was almost bruising, causing you to cry out his name and moan other incoherent babbles. "you're.. hah.. mine, got it? no other man can.. ah! ..ever make you feel this good," he said between moans.
despite being fucked out of your mind, aeons did your boyfriend look beautiful above you. his long hair falling over his shoulders and his mouth slightly agape-- it all drove you mad. and he was fucking you so deep-- hitting every sweet spot and tip nearly kissing your cervix. reaching up, you gently grabbed his horns, which only made him pound into you faster, if that was even possible. you tugged at his horns, pulling his face closer to yours and capturing his lips in a sloppy kiss. your fingers gently caressed up and down his horns, causing him to spill moans into your mouth.
you could tell he was getting close by the way his thrusts persisted at their fast pace though gradually got more sloppy, and how his hands slid up and down your waist as if trying to feel every inch of you. plus, his entire demeanor had changed. with his forehead pressed against yours and cheeks heavily tinted with various hues of pink, his eyes were shut and a series of lewd sounds from moans to whines were pouring out his mouth.
between every moan, he let out strings of incoherent pleas, everything along the lines of how good you were making him feel, begging you not to leave him, that he trusted you and knew you wouldn't cheat, and that he was sorry for being so mean, but he just couldn't help it, he loves you so much! his words fell on deaf ears, your brain too fucked out to even comprehend what he was saying. instead, your hands made their way to his hair, gently sifting through it and occasionally tugging as you threw your head back while whining his name and telling him that you were about to cum.
the tightening of your pussy around his cock sent a wave of euphoria through him and with a few more thrusts, he finally came undone, letting out a loud groan while spilling ropes of sticky cum directly into your womb and you followed shortly after, hole spasming around him as you let out a loud whine of his name before cumming, creating a white ring around the base of his cock when some of your mixed slick spilled out of you. his pace gradually slowed before he came to a full stop, leaving the only sound in the room your mingled breaths and pants.
you could feel him soften inside of you before he pulled out, gathering whatever spilled out of you on his fingers before shoving it back in, drawing his fingers out, and licking them off after he was done. he then leaned over, kissing your forehead before laying down and wrapping his tail around your waist and pulling you closer, arms wrapping around you and face burying in the crook of your neck. silence befell the two of you before he muttered something without lifting his face from your neck. "love, 'm sorry.."
you smiled, placing a kiss on his forehead and running your hands through his long hair before responding with a gentle tone of voice. "its okay." how could you not forgive him? the poor man just loves his girlfriend so much, and he's always been so scared of losing her. truly, he had no clue what he'd do without her!
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lizzieisright · 24 days
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omega abs ? 😣
oh my fucking god yes
female alpha!reader x omega!abby
Palestine: what can you do
Summary: Abby is sure she will never meet her dream alpha after what happened with Owen. And then she meets you.
Tags: dead dove: do not eat. a/b/o universe (female alphas have dicks), modern AU, descriptions of smut (heats/ruts), Owen is a piece of shit, reader is a sweetheart. Also I'll always make Ellie and Abby friends because their dynamic cracks me up every time.
Notes: this one is genuinely weird in terms of my writing style. It's 6k long for no reason except that I wanted to see how everything will play out and build some kind of omega!abby lore. Also it was meant as a bullet point thingy like hcs, but then it got too long, so the sentences might sound weird.
If you guys want something specific with omega!abby, reqs are open.
Me: *slaps the title of the fic* this bad boy can fit a whole multichapter in it.
/-/-/-/-/-/-
There's one thing Abby knows for certain when she turns 19: she is not a typical omega.
Abby's scent is not too sweet: she smells more like fresh roses than vanilla. All other omegas have more prominent scents, and Abby sees how alphas favour them. She is insecure about her scent, and she is not too prideful to admit she wants alphas to like her. Like any other omega Abby feels pressured by society to look a certain way - and she is already tall, so she starts going to the gym to get fit, to look more attractive, to grow that bubble butt everyone's talking about. She just started university and she wants to be cool.
(Ellie tells her it's all bullshit. Ellie is her biggest supporter and she is the one who growls at other alphas when it's needed. It's hilarious, because Ellie is fucking tiny. "I'm still an alpha, Anderson!" Ellie whines usually and Abby flicks her forehead.)
The gym works: she gets more attractive. Her butt is round, her arms are toned and her shoulders balance her hips, making her waist look thinner. Abby meets Owen and she thinks he is the one. He is the first alpha she spends her heat with. And well, maybe it's not how she imagined it would be, but Abby doesn't complain. After all, perfect alphas only exist in books and movies, not in reality.
(she dreamt about feeling safe and protected with her alpha, feeling loved and taken care of. Owen is all growls and bruises.)
Ellie hates Owen's guts. There's always some sick smell when they're in the same room, and Abby is doing all she can to manage it and make two of the most important alphas in her life like each other. Owen tries to convince Abby that alphas and omegas can't be friends - and it works. Abby stops spending too much time with Ellie, tricked into thinking that Ellie actually has feelings for her. Ellie lets it happen.
(Owen is so much more violent during ruts. Abby knew this too: alphas are ruthless in ruts, but she didn't expect being borderline assaulted. Again, she doesn't complain. She is in love, and Owen knows better.)
Abby keeps going to the gym, and in time her muscles grow and show more. Abby is happy - she put so much work into her body and it shows now! She is so much stronger now, and she doesn't mind that her waist is not so tiny anymore. Abby feels powerful.
Owen, however, gets grumpier with every pound of muscle on Abby's body: he doesn't like it. He doesn't support her when she shows how much progress she made.
Then he starts joking about it. He tells her it makes her look less like omega. That she is almost as big as he is. That people won't be able to tell who is the alpha in their relationship. Abby swallows everything and starts doing more cardio. She wants Owen to be happy. She wants to be his mate one day.
And then one day Abby catches Owen with another omega.
She is small and smells like coconut, she is everything Abby isn't.
Abby wants to die.
Abby calls Ellie for the first time in months, sobbing violently. Ellie picks her up and spends the night soothing Abby, and the next day beating the shit out of Owen. Yes, she is tiny, but alpha strength is alpha strength, and Ellie is furious.
Abby doesn't really recover from this. She thought Owen would be her first and her last, but now her dreams and her self-esteem are in ruins.
Abby blames herself for Owen's cheating. She blames herself for building her body, for not being omegy enough, for having a weak scent, for not being what he wanted. 
So Abby grows distant, believing she has no worth as an omega. She avoids alphas, she doesn't recognize when someone's interested. She doesn't let herself smell other people. The only alpha she still talks to is Ellie, because Ellie is Ellie. Her best goblin friend who doesn't even react to her heats, because she is so used to Abby.
(it actually breaks Abby's heart a little: is her scent so weak it doesn't affect alphas at all?)
Her younger brother, Lev, moves to the city for university when Abby is in her graduation year, and Abby puts her energy into taking care of him. She comes to his place from time to time, bringing food or snacks for him. They have movie nights as well. It makes Abby feel less alone. Less useless.
One day Lev asks her to come to the party with him: it's his first time going to a party and he has no idea what to do, especially since there'd be really cool people who are his seniors and he doesn't want to have an egg on his face. 
"Can you ask Ellie to come as well? Please? I need more cool people on my side."
Abby laughs and makes sure Ellie is going to come. Ellie adores Lev, so she agrees immediately.
This party is on another level, Abby thinks. It's not frat bros and awful alphas like it was when Abby went to parties with Owen. This party looks like all smart and successful people in the uni decided to get piss drunk, and it is as cool as it is hilarious. Abby knows some of them - she waves at Nora and hugs Manny when he sees her: they're only people Abby kept in contact with after breaking up with Owen. They stopped being friends with him the moment they found out what happened.
Lev is very nervous. He clings to Abby's arm and she laughs kindly.
"Hey, relax. You're supposed to have fun."
"Yeah, I know." Lev says, a little irritated, but it makes Abby and Ellie laugh again.
Ellie takes everything in her hands and comes back with three beers, opening them for Lev and Abby. Abby chuckles at her typical alpha behaviour, but doesn't tease her. They share a drink, and Lev is still nervous, so Ellie takes him to the dance floor and he finally relaxes next to his second favourite person and his first favourite alpha.
Or so Abby thinks.
She watches another person come to them, and by the way Ellie tenses Abby guesses it's an alpha. Abby tenses too: the protectiveness kicks in.
But the alpha smiles and hugs Lev like Abby does: like if this alpha was Lev's older sister. They talk for a bit and then Lev points in Abby's direction. The alpha nods and waves at Abby. She waves back, confused.
And then this alpha makes her way to Abby.
Abby is caught off guard: the alpha is hot. She is also friendly judging by the smile and the way she treated Lev, and Abby can’t decide how to behave around her. She is not bitter after what happened with Owen, but she is definitely out of practice of talking with hot alphas.
You watch Lev's sister's face go through a variety of emotions, and it makes you chuckle - you too would be confused. But you want to meet her and make sure she knows Lev is taken care of: he is under your wing. He is a sweet kid, shy one, and you know how nervous he is about everything, so you want him to have this safety net.
"Hi!" You say cheerfully and give your hand for a handshake. You try not to think of how beautiful Lev's sister is, how much her blue eyes hypnotise you. She is fucking adorable, that what she is. 
"Hi?" And her voice is soft too. You blink to clear your mind and tell her your name. You can’t smell her, but you’re pulled to her like a magnet.
"I'm Lev's student guide." Abby nods, not sure if she is okay with an alpha around her baby brother.
"I'm Abby, Lev's sister." You beam at Abby and she feels her stomach flutter. Abby quickly tries to kill the butterflies, but you seem so genuine. She can't smell you when there's so many people around, and maybe it's a good thing.
“Lev gave me your number as an emergency contact, and I just wanted you to know if an unknown number texts you that Lev is puking after doing beer pong, it will be me.” Abby can't help her chuckle: you do sound genuine. Abby feels like you really care about her brother and it makes her feel better. 
Lev and Ellie come back and Abby looks at how Lev's face lights up when you smile at him. Oh no. He has a crush on you. It breaks Abby’s heart: she sees how you treat him like a baby brother, and Abby knows Lev has no chance. She also thinks if she looked like this when she met Owen, all star-struck and hopeful. At least you look like a better person.
Abby also feels how tense Ellie is around you. Another alpha thing, but this one is annoying - Ellie’s protectiveness is borderline territorial, so Abby glares at her. Ellie glares back, but some of the tension goes away.
You ruffle Lev’s hair and ask him to enjoy the party and find you if they need anything. Ellie only fully relaxes when you’re lost in the crowd.
“She is the coolest.” Lev tells them and Ellie huffs. “She always helps me around. Saved my ass a few times as well.”
“Well, kid, I don’t want you to get hurt by her, okay?” Ellie says and Lev blushes. 
“Don’t worry, Ellie. I know nothing will happen.” Lev smiles. “She likes people on her level. Someone like you, Abby.”
Abby’s heart skips a beat in pain. There's no way an alpha like you would like an omega like her. 
Or if there is, then there's something wrong with you and you shouldn't be around her brother. 
“She doesn't seem too bad.” Ellie says almost through her teeth; she is as annoyed at her nature as Abby is, but she tries to have a clear head. “But if she hurts you, I'll kill her.” 
Abby would laugh, but the image of Owen's bloody face and a broken wrist don't let her. It's a good thing he didn't press charges, too humiliated to admit he got his ass kicked for cheating. 
Abby forgets about you until she is getting ready to sleep tonight. She puts her palm under her cheek, blissfully unaware, and takes a breath that is full of your scent. It shakes her, having an alpha scent on her, and Abby can't control herself.
Abby's cheeks burn, her heart picks up speed. Her cunt throbs. 
You smell amazing. It has an edge, like any other alpha’s scent, but it's not suffocating. Well no. It is, but it doesn't feel bad, it makes Abby bury her nose in her palm and take a deep sniff. It makes her feel safe. 
And Abby is terrified. She can't like your scent. It's dangerous, she can't risk herself like this, it's stupid. Lev has a crush on you, for god's sake! And even if she could, you'd never look her way. You're a good alpha and good alphas like pretty, small, sweet smelling omegas. Not Abby. 
She doesn’t know that she also left some of her scent on your palm. She doesn’t know you’ve been smelling it the whole night, addicted to the smell of fresh roses and memory of pretty blue eyes. She doesn't know that you struggle to control your eyes from changing to alpha red the whole time. 
You're ready to claw walls after meeting the prettiest omega of your life that you know is sweet and kind and smart: Lev really can't shut up about his sister. It's fucking eating you alive. 
And you have no idea when you'll meet her again, but then you remember that both of you are in the same university. So you start trying to figure out her schedule. You know she is a med student, so you take a chance at going to the library. 
And you're not wrong: Abby is there, looking miserable as she takes her notes. Your instincts kick in and you try to think of a way to make her feel better, but you get your shit together: it would be creepy. 
So you just walk over and ask to sit next to her. Abby is surprised, but she lets you anyway. 
It's awkward. You both are trying to not inhale too much, but the scents are respectively addictive: you smell her fresh roses and she smells your spice and safety. You want to bury yourself in her neck and mark her, scent her, make her yours, but you push these thoughts away.
“How's Lev doing?” Abby asks, not being able to concentrate anymore. It's even more embarrassing that you both smell of attraction, but it doesn't really mean anything: it was proven to be an instinct thing, therefore not reliable in human society. It just makes everything awkward for everyone.
“He is excellent, honestly. He got interested in charity work and I think he will soon be cleared to volunteer at animal shelters.” 
“Good. Thanks for looking after him. I don't want him to get hurt, you know?” Abby didn't mean to say this, but you catch the meaning of her words anyway. She can smell a faint hurt coming from you, but it's not big enough. 
“I'll do whatever I can to make sure he is safe.” You promise Abby and her attraction grows. You blink, but get back into conversation, trying to find more about Abby. 
Abby is.. reluctant. She is polite, but her answers are short, and you're not an idiot, you can take a hint, so you apologise for taking her time and go. 
Abby watches you go and gets filled with sorrow. You seem so sweet, and it scares her. She can't understand what is your angle and why are you bothered with her. She is sad because she wants you to be bothered with her. She wants you to like her; but Abby's brain doesn't even entertain the idea of it. Plus, Lev is crushing on you, it would be absolutely unfair of her to like you. 
The sour smell of sadness makes Ellie restless when she gets to the library half an hour later for their study session. She looks Abby over and tries to piece together what's wrong. 
“Did something happen?” 
Abby is also reluctant to tell Ellie, but she does it anyway. Ellie frowns the whole time, not pleased with another alpha upsetting her baby. Abby is quick to defend you and say that it's she who is the problem. Ellie kicks her under the table. 
“You are not a problem. It's Owen in your head again! Let go of this asshole. There are better alphas than him, fuck, any decent alpha is better than him. Don't assume shit.” Ellie tells her and Abby nods. 
Abby decides to try. Maybe at least she can make a friend. So the next time you see her in the library, she actually smiles at you. 
You swallow. Hard. Abby is gorgeous. 
So you sit next to her and surprisingly, the conversation flows so much better than the last time. You think she was just super busy back then.
Abby is so fucking oblivious it's not funny. She talks to you like she'd talk to Ellie: she doesn't believe your scent, convinced it's just nature and alphas are like this sometimes, so she is relaxed. You can be friends, she thinks. You're great and smell amazing, so you can be friends. 
You're almost salivating the whole time. Abby is cute as fuck, and she is hot as fuck: she takes her hoodie off and stays in a tight crop top, and you ogle at her arms and shoulders. She is incredible. 
“I know we've just met, but I can't leave without asking. Would you go on a date with me?” 
Abby's scent spikes in surprise, and then anxiety. An awful, sick smell that makes you back off. 
“Oh. Oh, I'm sorry.” You tell her, eager to get rid of this stench, to keep Abby calm and safe. 
“Are you sure?” Abby asks, not really believing her ears. 
“I mean, I really want to get to know you better.” You admit. 
“Lev has a crush on you.” Abby blurts and you laugh kindly. 
“I know. We talked about it with him. I don't let this stuff slide when it happens.” It makes Abby feel a little easier. “But if you're uncomfortable, I totally get it. I'd love to be your friend as well.” 
“...I need to talk to Lev first.” Abby admits, her cheeks feel hot. 
“Of course. Let me know then.” You smile sweetly, your scent is so full of attraction it's hard to find an excuse for it, so Abby just ignores it. 
She smells excited now and you beam. “You’re so pretty.” You blurt before you can stop yourself, but Abby starts to smell so sweetly and her cheeks are rosy now, you feel on cloud nine. 
“Thanks, I guess.” She says, shy, and you nod. You say your goodbyes and leave Abby to study. 
Abby thinks she's gone insane. Or you've gone insane. There's no way you actually asked her on a date. 
But Abby wants to go so much. She didn't admit it, but she was getting lonely, and then suddenly you came along and made her heart beat faster. 
So she gains courage and talks to Lev. He gets sad, but not the sour kind, the faint lavender of regret. 
“I told you she would like you.” Lev smiles and Abby hugs him, trying to comfort him. “She is good, I promise.” 
“I'm sorry, Lev.” 
“Don't be.” Lev chuckles and they spend the evening watching the movie. 
Next day you text Abby to find out if everything worked out and she gives you a positive. You grin like an idiot the whole day and plan the date.
You don't get all romantic on your first date, since you feel like Abby might get anxious, so you two just go to a bar and have a game of pool. 
It's perfect: you both are competitive, you get to see Abby bend down and you get to flirt a lot after a drink. Abby is wearing high waisted jeans and her bubble butt looks amazing in them. You don't know this, but Abby was desperate to make herself look more like an omega, and even if she couldn't hide her shoulders and biceps, she wanted to compensate for it, showing off her butt. 
Abby is oblivious to your hungry eyes when she takes a hit, but you're struggling. Abby is sweet and she smells so fucking good. You're itching to touch her, but you keep yourself in check. So instead you compliment her. A lot. 
Abby is flustered: no one ever talked to her like this. No alpha made it clear to her that they found her this attractive. But you keep your mouth running. “Your shirt looks so good on you.” “Sorry, I can't stop staring at your shoulders. They're very nice.”
Abby laughs at this one and feels more comfortable in her own skin. So she opens up. “My ex didn't like that I work out so much.” She chuckles, and you look at her in mock offence. It makes her laugh. 
“What a fucking idiot. Only cowards don't appreciate muscle mommies.” You scrunch your nose and Abby laughs harder. 
“God, what is this nickname?”
You get flustered and Abby feels all giddy. She didn't expect any alpha to get flustered, especially not because of her. “You know. When girls, especially omegas, build up a lot of muscles? People really dig it.” 
“Do you?” Abby asks, coy, and she sees the red flash in your eyes. It makes her press her thighs together. 
“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” You say and there's a hint of an alpha voice. Abby's chest is going to explode. 
You don't kiss Abby properly tonight, instead opting to kiss her hand: you like her, and you don't want to rush it. Abby gets flustered and you can't help the spike in your scent that makes Abby's cheeks red. 
(No, you don't get off on her scent when you come home.) 
(No, Abby doesn't fuck herself on her fingers when she comes home, burying her nose into her palm where she can catch your scent.) 
You both take it slow. You kiss her for the first time on your third date and Abby folds in your hands while you purr and knead her sides. 
Abby starts spending more time at your place, where you just cuddle and watch something. You start catching her scent all around your apartment, and it's driving you crazy. You want Abby to be yours so desperately, but you make yourself think with your head and not with your dick, so you don't rush.
You're in your class when you get a call from Lev. You don't pick up the first one, but when he calls for the second time, you walk out of the class and take the call. 
Lev is crying. 
Turns out his heat came during his class and now he is scared of going home on his own. Your instincts kick in and you grab your shit at a lighting speed before storming to Lev. You text Abby while you're running, and then your mind shifts into protective mode. 
It's hard being around an omega in heat: it's hard for the both of you. Lev clings to you while you wrap your arm around his shoulders and walk him from campus to his place. You know your eyes are red and you're low-key growling, but you keep comforting Lev. 
“It's okay. I'll get you home, and Abby is going to be here, okay? I'll keep you safe, don't worry. You're doing great, just a little more, can you walk a little more for me?”
Your voice soothes Lev and you make it to his place where Abby is already pacing in worry. 
She takes a look at you and her breath hitches. Your eyes are red and so hungry, Abby feels horny and sorry for you: she doesn't know how much willpower you need to keep your head straight when there's an omega in distress and in heat. 
You both get Lev inside his apartment and you retreat to the kitchen while Abby takes care of Lev. She fusses around, gives him pills and sends him to take a shower. You sit straight, your firsts tight as you watch your girlfriend being all motherly. This mixed with the smell of heat makes you feral. It gets harder to control, especially when Abby stands in front of you, her gorgeous scent in your nose. 
“How are you?” She asks, compassionately. And you grit your teeth. 
“Can you-” You start with a growl and you smell Abby's arousal. “Fuck. Can you come here?” You pat your lap.
The moment Abby sits down you grab her and bury your nose in her neck, your arms are tight around her back. Abby yelps when you press her closer and her scent spikes with arousal, making you growl. 
“I'm not- I'm not going to do anything. I just need a moment.” You growl and Abby swallows. Her arousal tickles your nose and you growl louder, pressing your nose closer to her scent glands.
Abby is so wet in her pants she is afraid she will leak on you, but she can't help it: you're usually so sweet, hiding your nature, and now you're acting so alpha-like, and it does things to her.
“Shit. We can't-” Abby's arousal gets mixed with anxiety and you want to sneeze to get it out of your nose. 
“We're not doing anything. Not like this. I just need a redirection.”  You take a deep inhale full of Abby's scent and you finally settle down. Your voice returns and you feel like you can control your eyes again. You ease your hold on Abby and the anxiety goes away. “Did I scare you?” 
Abby is baffled. It's such a big contrast to how Owen treated her before, she is lost for words. You're worried if you sniffing her scared her while Owen didn't care if he left bruises.
The air gets filled with the smell of fresh bakery - the scent of love and affection - and you almost tremble under Abby in excitement.
“A little. I was worried if you'd stop.”
“I have excellent self-control, baby.” You wink at Abby and she slaps your bicep.
She moves a certain way that makes her pelvis move against yours and you grunt: the scent of Abby's arousal got you half-hard already, and you're kinda sensitive now. 
Abby also feels it. She grows red and you giggle, kissing her cheek. 
“Lev is going to be out of the shower soon, I should go.”
“Okay.” Abby gets up from her seat on your lap and you pout. “Do you want-” Abby shakes her head. It's a stupid idea. 
“Do I want what?”
“Something with my scent?” 
You swallow and nod. Abby stands for a second, thinking, and then just takes her shirt off, letting you see her in a bra. You see her small tits covered by her lacy bra and adjust your pants. She is so fucking hot and this is so not the time, but your cock twitches and gets harder with every second while you stare at the most beautiful omega in your life. 
“You're a fucking menace.” You growl again and kiss Abby with hunger, the rumbling in your chest resonating in hers. Abby goes pliant and kisses you back. 
It takes you two tries to get away from her, but Abby is so delicious it's insane. 
You spend the evening in your apartment, getting off on Abby's shirt, fantasising about her going into heat and how you would take care of her and how good you would make her feel. 
You're together for a few months now when Abby's heat comes. You can smell it on her the day before, when she is all whiny and tired, sleeping for the bigger part of the movie on top of you. Her usual rose scent is getting stronger. 
“Are you close to your heat?” Abby hums in agreement and you swallow, staring at the ceiling. “Okay. I can smell it.” 
“Oh.” Abby is surprised. She doesn't have a very prominent scent so she didn't expect you to notice. “Oh I didn't think you'd smell it.”
“Your scent is my fucking heaven, of course I would.”
Abby blushes. Deeply. And you feel her press her thighs together. It makes your dick twitch. 
“I think it'll start tomorrow.” 
“Do you want me to be with you?” You ask innocently and Abby chuckles. “I mean, we haven't done anything yet and I understand if you want to wait and have normal sex first. Well, if you even want to have se-”
Abby cuts you off with a kiss and you relax. “We can try normal sex now.”
And you do. It's slow and sweet and you both laugh when you bump heads and knees and when you have to fumble around for lube since you're messy, but it's perfect. 
You're not aggressive, but you still growl and claw at Abby's soft thighs, and it's a perfect balance of care and pure animalistic want, and Abby feels wanted. She kinda wants to see your control break. 
And then you dip down between her thighs and Abby yelps and pushes your head away, shy. “You don't have to-”
“I really fucking want to. But if you don't want me to, it's okay. I won't.”
“I've never done it before.” Abby admits, embarrassed. She asked Owen to do it once but he looked weirded out by her ask, so Abby felt ashamed to ask again. You stare at her in shock - a good-natured one - and Abby hides her face. 
You slow down and get on her level again, gently moving her hand away. “Hey, it's cool. I didn't mean to belittle you, I just- you're so pretty and so gorgeous, who wouldn't want to go down on you?” Abby looks at you, so deeply touched by your care she feels her eyes water. She smells of love again and you giggle, burying your nose in her neck. “We don't have to do it.”
“I kinda wanna try.” Abby murmurs, smiling, and you beam at her. 
“I'll go slow, okay? Tell me what feels good and what's not, yeah?”
That's how Abby ends up being eaten out for the first time. She loves the feeling of your mouth on her and how your fingers curl inside her. She loves how your eyes gradually become alpha red the closer she is to cumming. 
She comes down from her high and looks at you, half naked and red-eyed, like a predator you're meant to be, and her cunt throbs. 
Abby rides you until you're a grunting mess under her as she massages your tits and clenches around you. You growl, but you don't grab her or hurt her, just let her have fun, and Abby is so fucking happy. 
“I can't wait to spend my heat with you.” Abby moans and you cum immediately, filling her up. 
This time Abby gets to feel safe and taken care of during her heat as you attend her every whim, every request, from “cum inside me” to “I really want some chocolate ice-cream”. You do everything, and Abby can't be happier. She texts Ellie as much when you're out to get her ice-cream and Ellie just sends vomiting emojis. 
Of course then she tells Abby she is happy for her and that she is going to be a best woman at your wedding. 
Abby doesn't want to admit, it scares her, but she wants to be your mate one day. 
You come back not only with chocolate ice-cream, but with some junk food as well. Abby can't help but to drop to her knees right in the hallway. 
You also help Abby recover after the heat, bringing her snacks and letting her nap every chance you can, and Abby knows she is in love with you. She doesn't even need to tell you: she constantly smells of love and lust around you now, but she decides to do it anyway.
You're balls deep in her while she pinches your nipples and nibbles at your scent glands, making you whimper in her ear. “Fuck, you feel so good around me.”
“I love you.” Abby says sweetly and you shudder on top of her, and Abby feels how your cock twitches when you cum. Abby feels your fangs scraping her scent glands and she cums too, milking you. 
“Fuck, baby, shit! I love you too, I love you so fucking much, shit-” You pant and Abby grins. 
Abby likes making a mess out of you. 
For some insane reason, Abby's excited for your rut. She didn't like spending ruts with Owen, but you're so gentle and patient, Abby is sure she'll be okay. 
Your rut comes after a month after Abby's heat. Abby likes how possessive you get in pre-rut, even though you start growling at Ellie, which doesn't end well with Ellie's explosive temper. You get along well any other time, but the constant stare down irritates Ellie to the point when she tells Abby, “go fuck the crazy out of your alpha, she is so fucking annoying. Yeah, you.” Ellie stares at you while you tug Abby closer on your lap, scenting her. “Oh my god, get a fucking room. I know Abby is like, your Jesus or whatever, but it's too much.”
Abby just giggles and enjoys how your growling changes to purring. Abby turns to you and cradles your face. “My alpha.” She murmurs and Ellie groans.
“I fucking hate you guys.”
“Not our fault you fell in love with another alpha, Ellie.” You chuckle. 
“Fuck off.” She growls and two if you laugh. 
Abby stays at your place and you get to fall asleep with her in your arms.
On the next day you wake up with a heavy head. You're already hard and Abby is right there, soft and sleeping. You think about how her wet hot pussy feels around your cock and your pheromones spike up so high Abby wakes up. 
She can tell right away that you're in rut. Your scent is suffocating. It's not soft, safe suffocating scent that Abby likes, it's the one that gets stuck in her nose and makes her cunt clench around nothing. She wants nothing more than to get on her fours and present herself for you - this is how much power you have over her. 
“My rut-”
“Yes, I-”
“If you don't want to be here, I think I can hold off for 10 minutes and let you leave.” You growl and it only turns Abby on. 
So she does what she wants - she gets on her knees, her cunt right in front of your face, and arches her back. 
“Knot me, baby.” 
All your restraints break. You're rough and you make Abby take everything: if she is not cumming on your cock, she is cumming on your fingers as you fuck your cum back into her, or she is sitting on your face. Abby struggles to keep up with you, since she is not in heat, but she can't wait to take your knot, and she tells you as much. You growl and fuck her harder, feeling your release building up. Abby is so pretty under you, covered in marks, her tits red from your mouth. She spreads her legs and you pin her thighs by her sides, watching your cock disappear in her pretty little pussy. You finally push your knot into Abby and she whimpers, tries to adjust to your size, but you rub her clit and she clamps on you.
“Mine. My omega. My girl.” You growl loudly while Abby clenches around your knot, thrashing on the bed. It's too much pleasure and she knows you're far from done.
And Abby is right. You make her cum on your knot four other times, and only after she makes you cum again - which means she cums st least three times more - you give her a break. You're still sweet, but now it's possessive sweetness. You don't let her do anything, bathing and feeding her, but she is so exhausted she doesn't even notice. 
“I wanna nap.” Abby tells you when she is snuggled against your chest. It's a small break before you would get horny again. 
“You should. You did so well.” Abby giggles and nuzzles your neck. 
“Don't wait if you get horny again. It would be a nice way to wake up.”
“I fucking love you.”
“You better. You're my alpha. It's a requirement.”
“You call me your alpha again and you're not napping, babe. Go the fuck to sleep.” You kiss her forehead and Abby laughs.
Abby doesn't know if it's luck or destiny, but this time she is sure: you are the one for her.
(and she is right.)
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bucknastysbabe · 11 months
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Hi hello I had brain rot and popped this out! Idk if it’s an incoherent horny ramble or not but SKIDIBOP MM DADA BOOM💥💥🤯🤯🤯
Rating: Explicit
Tags: A/B/O, Alpha!bucky, omega!reader, reader is inhuman and former hydra asset, confessions of love, mating cycles, TW//non-descript sexual assault, horrible self talk, hydra trash party tendencies, Sweet fluffy big boy Buck, breeding kink, marathon sex, pnv!sex, kinda feral ass behavior, scenting n marking
@lovelykhaleesiii @godrakin @borikenlove @ilikeitbetterangsty @connorsui I think I got my Bucky slores all counted out ;)
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Feral. - B. Barnes
Bucky was panicking, sour pheromones leaking from his pores. He was an alpha, technically, but would be entering his first rut after years of chemical castration by Hydra. Rendered him beta. Now it was coming up on him, soon— you could smell that much.
Being one of the few omegas around that offered to help him out, your own powers would ease the inevitable roughness of a feral Alpha. Bucky chose you due to your close friendship, both Hydra superpowered assets. You guys could relate to each other. Although you never had to miss a heat, your handler taking full advantage of your needy state.
Bastard.
Bucky had all the signs of rut coming up; aggression, hypersensitivity, appetite, and smelling up the entire room. Stark had banned Buck to his apartment citing, “It fucking stinks, go wear him out for the love of God.” You had grabbed your clothes and favorite nesting blankets to join the brunette soon after.
Subtle cramps made you shift, the fuckers scent alone would send you into a synced heat. He smelled good, like a woodsy smell, a winter’s day, all that sappy nonsense. Bucky grunted, “What if I hurt you? Like bite your mating gland without meaning it?”
You tapped your neck, nail clicking on an invisible collar. Bucky stopped in his tracks, brows furrowing. “They have guards for that. You can lick and scent all you want but no bitesies Barnes.” He groaned, “Thank god for the future, I guess.” Another cramp hit you, hissing involuntarily at the pain.
Blue eyes flicked to you, him coming close to you. He asked gently, “What’s wrong?” You clenched your teeth and gritted out, “You. Going to send me into heat soon so stop fighting it and worrying.” Bucky’s eyes widened and he gulped, coming to terms with the reality of the situation. Fucking his good friend, you, who he had intensely mooned over for a while now.
The brunette nodded and gestured, “Do you need to nest first? I’m just going to, uh, eat a little more.” You rolled your eyes at his obvious stress eating. He was cutely fluffy now from the transition of Romania to the Avengers compound, trying to adjust. Cramp, ow. Grabbing the blankets you mounded and moulded them to your own liking. Bucky’s scent only made it better, you taking a deep inhale.
You cried out as the first real pang of heat hit you, slick gushing forth, sending you into the nest face first— drooling and whining for Bucky. Usually you used suppressants, hating how submissive and fucking stupid you got, the intense emotions brought up old memories. But not this cycle, waiting for Bucky had you back to stupidtown.
Bucky almost snarled in concern, swallowing down his protein bar and crawling onto the bed. You clawed at your clothes, ripping off the top easily. “Buuuck, help, leggings, stupid!,” you managed. The brunette yanked down your legging and underwear, growling, “Don’t call yourself that— fucking hell!”
Oh. There it was. He’d finally hit it. 
Bucky groaned deeply, taking off his clothes haphazardly, you could hear the ripping and tossing while drooling on a blanket, biting down in agony. You whined, “C’mon Alpha, knot, need it, fill my pussy up!” The normal you cringed on in the inside, but Bucky nodded along. He rasped, “Fuck yes, yes, gonna fill my pretty ‘mega up.”
You could almost purr at Barnes referring you as ‘his’.
Buck’s mismatched hands gripped your hips, sliding an impossibly fat cock between your weeping folds. A shiver wracked your spine, mewing and crying his name at the feeling. He rumbled in that Alpha timbre, “Be a good omega and just take it, make it look easy, please.” By the end of the sentence your sweet Bucky had leaked out some. Turning around to gaze at him he slid in your cunt with a grunt, fangs bared and eyes blazing.
Swollen and fucking hot he speared you fully, stretching and overfilling underused pussy. It had been so long since you’d fucked someone and damn you were glad it was him. Your pussy ached and widened around him, gushing profuse slick. Buck groaned and snapped his hips forward, dragging along everything. He let out a strangled moan, “Fuck, dolly, so goddamn tight. Gonna bl-blow fast.”
“Hurry up and fuck me then!”
A rough smack to your ass had you shutting up with a whimper. Bucky jackhammered your pussy, grunting and gasping, poor thing’s dick probably hurting. His hips smacked into your own, a metal hand pushing at the small of your back for a different angle. You wailed, Bucky cursed and pressed his soft belly to your back, chomping and nosing eagerly at the protected mating gland.
He couldn’t get enough of it, moaning and lapping like a baby alpha fucking his first rut toy. Big hands explored your body, one coming down to toy with your oversensitive clit, making you gush further. The closeness and angle had you whimpering, need forcing you to whine, “Oh, Buck, kiss me, please!”
He blinked dumbly at you, lips swollen from mauling your scent glands. You whimpered, emotions immediately jumping to: oh he hates you, used up omega. The alpha frowned and seized forward clumsily, noses mashing together as he kissed you. He still fucked you raggedly, cock swelling and pulling at your walls.
A pink tongue darted out to claim you, Bucky getting the point and tilting his head for better access to your mouth. He moaned desperately, lips driving across yours wet and messy. You threw back an arm to cradle silky-soft brown hair, fucking back onto that thick cock. “Fuuuck, knot me up baby, need it.” Bucky rasped back, “Yeah?”
“Want it, wan’ your knot, feel s’good,” came the resounding whimper.
Bucky kissed you harder, moaning into your mouth as he fucked deeper, more shallow thrusts than anything now, thick fingers pulling at your clit. He growled, “Omega, so tight— mine.” He shoved your hips flush to him, groaning chest deep and guttural as his knot popped and blew inside. You wailed and scrambled around him, that hot cum painting your insides.
Bucky whined deep in his chest, gasping against you, holding squirming hips still as he filled you up. The Alpha lapped and scented you further, murmuring dazedly, “Won’t be able to smell like another alpha again. Never.” His fingers dug into the softness of your hips, locked in now. You panted and shoved your face into the blankets, overwhelmed.
“Jus’ move to the side,” you said quietly. He gently, so very gently, eased the pair of you to the side. The knot pulled a bit, making both of you hiss. Now spooned in the fucked up nest, Bucky seemed to be dozing off, nose shoved into your mating gland, puffing softly. He slung an arm around you, making sure his entire body was plastered to your own.
Some alphas were clingy like that. Not many. Heat abated by Bucky’s knot— your mind inevitably cleared up. Emotions and old thoughts swirled in your brain. Sometimes you’d have to go through heat with a random elite of the world, them getting a present with the inhuman omega. Once you’d been through the humiliation of being used they’d dump you off with your handler, Sitwell.
He made sure to let you know you were nothing but a whore for Hydra. Used to the point where you were nothing but an easy fuck. “No self-respecting alpha would mate you,” he’d tut while inside you. Your chest clenched up, stupid stupid stupid emotions making your eyes burn.
In the same horrid voice as Jasper your mind hissed. Bucky wouldn’t want you. He knew you were easy and used to ruts. You couldn’t wash off the years of filth and scars on your nape. The great Bucky Barnes would get through this first rut and go find a more demure, self-respecting omega. Hot tears pricked at your eyes, chest beginning to heave.
Bucky’s hand came up quickly, cupping your cheek to get a look. His thick brows furrowed at your likely pitiful expression. “What’s wrong sweetheart? Woke me up when ya’ soured, you hurting?” His concerned expression made you cry harder— chest aching for this to never end. The alpha tightened himself to you, a big thumb wiping your tears. His sculpted lips pulled into a frown.
“I-it’s stupid, been a long time for me too, sorry,” you apologized.
He didn’t seem phased, concern wafting off him in waves. The former assassin practically cooed, “Hey now, seriously, what’s wrong? Spit it out baby, I know you better than that.” You stared into dead serious eyes, knowing deep down Buck would win this contest. Mouth gaping in horror you had no clue how to respond.
“C’mon ‘mega, breaking a man’s heart,” he begged soft and sweet.
Turning away from his gaze, Buck’s hand gently pulled you back with a huff. Taking a deep breath you rambled manically, “I stopped my heats after getting out of Hydra. It brings back…stuff. But I wanted to be there for you and I know I’m an easy option and all, I mean being the pass around for whatever need obviously I know how to handle Alphas.” A titanium thumb in your mouth had you rendered mute with a sudden squeak.
His face softened, pheromones swelling and making you feel woozy. Strong fucking Alpha. The anxiety in your chest abated from the scent. He asked, “Do you really think I’d care about your past?” You shrugged lightly, unsure. Blue eyes turned hard, “Give me a list and if they ain’t dead I’ll personally go castrate them.” Bucky took a deep inhale of you again, relaxing some.
“Look at me.”
You peeped nervously.
“When you offered to help I thought my dreams were coming true,” he pecked your temple, “You’re the only one I want, was gonna tough it out if the only girl I care about didn’t volunteer.” You smacked a big shoulder in shock, squeaking, “No- no you’re lying- this is a joke.” Bucky shoved his knot a fraction deeper inside of you, still swollen to hell.
He deadpanned, “Does this seem like a joke to you? I wish the damn thing would deflate so I can fuck your pretty self already. Been lovin’ you for awhile now.”
Whimpering in desire you clenched down involuntarily, Bucky’s eyes rolling back with a groan. He kissed you again, breathlessly laughing, “I thought you’d think I’m too crazy, overweight, and a load of baggage.” Smooching him back you shook your head to declare, “No, no, you’re perfect as is. This is perfect. Don’t want it to end. Love you too.”
“It doesn’t have to, babydoll,” he cooed into your lips.
After confessing one’s feelings, fucking your official Alpha was much more intense. You’d talked it out with him waiting on the knot to deflate, both of you self-conscious balls of anxiety causing the miscommunication. In full, fuck Hydra with a fiery sword.
You’d grown more heat dazed first, losing any touch to speak normally, writhing around. Buck played with your clit until you’d cum two times, chanting his name like a litany. He was goading you on with a smirk the entire time, cocky as hell now, “Yeah, that’s it, squirt for your fuckin’ Alpha.” Or he’d groan in your ear, “Good girlll, yeah, smell so sweet.”
His knot finally went down and now half crazed you rutted back on Bucky’s cock with hoarse shouts, biting into a blanket. He met you eagerly, slapping your ass and talking non-stop. The brunette moaned, “Goddamn baby, fucking ah, sh-shit!” He nudged thick thighs inside your own, using strong hands to pull you onto him. The whole place smelled of sex pheromones.
“Gonna be my big Alpha and breed me up?,” you teased deliriously, not even sure where this came from.
Bucky rumbled deep in his chest, one of those possessive hands pulling you upright to lock around a slim throat. He rasped in your ear, hot breath puffing, “I’ll fuckin’ give you some pups, s’that what you want?” His hips stuttered, cock beginning to swell again as you wailed. Please please please.
“Make you mine for good,” he nipped at the covered mating gland again, “I’d kill anyone who’d take my precious omega away from me, killing anyone who hurt you, mhm.” You turned your head to kiss his swollen lips, hand digging into his hair as the Alpha dug into you. His soft belly fit perfectly into the arch of your back, hips clapping against your slickened cunt and ass. Your brain purred about how big and perfect he was, a good protector.
Bucky begged suddenly, thrusts sloppy and stilted, “Rip th-that collar off, lemme bite, c’mon love— only one I want, make you a mama.” His lips insistently kissed, hands almost frantically grasping you. A bolt of heady arousal spiked up your belly, the need to be claimed and mated taking over. Bucky as yours sealed with his pretty white teeth, you dripped more at the thought.
Pressing the release on the collar you rocketed into a perfect, quiet, blank euphoria at the feeling of Bucky’s teeth piercing your skin. Things felt complete. You sighed in relief, the held on disgust and shame floating away. Coming back to within seconds you snarled and locked onto his pulsing neck, sealing the bite with a lap. Bucky gutturally groaned, knot popping once again, him following you down to the bed.
The pair of you didn’t speak for what felt like an eternity, hoarsely catching breath, living in the moment. Bucky nosed at the now swollen patch on your neck, commenting dopily, “Wonder what Tony’s gonna say when you pop back out with this.” You hummed and squeezed the big arm around your waist.
“He’ll probably stutter for a minute and then act like he knew all along. Steve won’t be surprised.”
Bucky laughed, “He never is.”
His hand splayed out against your stomach, murmuring, “I know you’re on the pill but I meant what I said. Wanna make the ‘mega I love bred up.” You possibly couldn’t get another orgasm out but his gravelly tone and words made you clench. Touching the bond mark you replied, “Wanna make the alpha I love a daddy.”
He groaned, blues rolling up, “Fuck, yes.”
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bluetimeombre · 2 months
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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ And I wouldn't marry me, either.
You were Azriel's mate, but it took losing you three times for him to realise.
[this is long. i'm talking 5k words long so i've split it into two parts. anyway, azriel is the best bat boy and no i won't hear anyone out. i'm so excited to write for him and hope you enjoy. it's very angsty but that's what i love. i hope i can write more for him and maybe other characters if you like. it's been a while since i've actually read the series so if any information is wrong, do let me know. also it was my first time using the term y/n and yes, i cringed NOT PROOF READ... enjoy]
warnings: references to sexual assault and references to suicide. nothing explicit but please don't read if this is sensitive to you.
Part 2 soon…
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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
The first, was the worst...
You were Rhys's half sister, the bastard daughter of his father. But when your mother had died giving birth to you, Rhysand's mother took you in and raised you with your brother and sister. You were so little and adorable that your sister loved you at once. Rhys did to, at some point of your life, you were sure he actually cared about you.
But when his mother and sister had died, his eyes shifted, he started to look at you with contempt. After all, you were only his half-sister. The worst half. He only kept you around because it's what his mother would have wanted.
And because there was no way Cassian and Azriel would ever let anything happen to you.
Besides, Rhysand knew when to use you.
Although Azriel was his spymaster, you were pretty good at staying swift-footed too. And you were frankly, very terrifying when you wanted to be.
You tread with power through the war camps, all of them looking at you as you went. All of their gazes wrecked with a predatory gaze. They either wanted to have their way with you, or kill you. Or both.
Rhys had said you could handle it, it was only supposed to be a check in. Cassian hadn't liked it, neither had Mor but it was Azriel who had almost- and for the first time- disobeyed his high lord to accompany you. But no, your brother wanted you to do this alone, so alone you would.
Just to show him you could.
'I can come with you,' Azriel had said, standing in your room as you tied your boots up. 'I won't even have to be seen.' At that, his shadows wrapped up your calf.
You smiled at them, as if they were his own pet. 'I'll manage just fine. Besides, i'm sure that's what Rhys wants, me needing a man.'
It had done nothing to calm your friend. The worry was still stuck between his brows, marring his handsome features. You'd held his cheeks, your wings hiding the two of you. His large ones (enough to swallow the both of you) over-lapped yours.
It was the last time you'd feel your wings.
The war camp wasn't as easy as you'd hoped. It was terror and horror in a place. You'd been to the court of nightmares, you'd gone to the slaughter of the spring court after they killed your family. But this, this was hell of another kind.
You had no idea how many days you'd been locked up, wrists bound in chains and hanging from the cell roof above you. Blood rolled down your arms from the force you'd tried to use to get them out. Your eye was swollen shut and your body trembled in pain.
All because they wanted to know your brothers secrets, and you wouldn't budge.
Your check was only supposed to be a day, but you were sure it had been longer. Days of endless pain and torture. Your uniform hung in rags of stripped material, your hair matted with blood and hiding your face.
You'd used the last of your energy to keep your walls up. You weren't anyone's mate, you didn't have anyone on the other end trying to feel what you felt. But should Rhys come looking (though you doubted it) you didn't want him to feel it. You didn't want anyone in your mind.
The gates opened with a sickening clash.
One of the Illyrian's knelt in front of you, his wings hiding those coming in behind you. 'Listen sweetheart. I don't want to make this any harder than it's about to get. All you have to do is tell us your brother's hide outs.'
You grit your teeth, staring down at the ground.
'So loyal, to a man who doesn't care if you live or die.'
Suddenly, your wings twitched as hands grasped them. Brute hands, the sort you wouldn't want touching any part of you.
Fear spiked in you, horror twisting your gut. 'What are you doing?'
'I told you I didn't want to get things messier, darling.'
You whipped your head from side to side, trying and failing to get a look at the assailants behind you. Your wings were being held apart, no matter how hard you tried to bat them away. You knew the sort of people they were, and what they did to girls like you.
That's when the begging started. 'No, no please. Anything. I'll do anything! Beat me, kill me, rape me, not my wings, please!'
'Anything?' the bastard asked, tongue poking out from his lips. 'Then tell me where your lord's hideouts are?'
You should betray him, you thought. He would never lose his wings for you. Perhaps it was stubbornness that kept you from, or maybe you were clinging to the last bit of love you want from him.
The bastard scoffed, 'anything, she says. Your brother has his own bitch wrapped around his finger.'
That's when they started hacking at your wings.
Your screams tore through your throat, blood spitting and dripping down your chin. Tears soon joined when they hacked away at the bone, the membrane, the flesh of it all. The three of them worked through your screams and your tears and your pain, tearing and cutting at it like it was nothing more than paper.
Not your whole life.
Let them hear you. You hoped your brother heard you, you hoped all and every court heard the pain.
Eventually, even you couldn't keep screaming. The only sound was the hacking away at your wings and the drops of blood.
'Now look at these beauties. I've got a perfect spot on my wall for these.'
They left you after that. There wasn't much more damage they could do. It already felt like they'd destroyed your life. You had never really thought about your wings, they were just part of you, as much as your wit or hair was. But they'd took it and now, you felt empty. Never would you fly with Azriel again, or use your wings to smack Cassian over the head.
Rhys, your dear brother, had took that from you.
The days blended in together after that. You were pooled in your own tears and blood, vomiting up anything they forced down your throat. No, they'd made it very clear they didn't want you dead. They just took pride in making it feel like you were.
At some point, you'd stopped reacting to the gate opening. You let them do whatever they wanted with you. Your wrists were still chained, arms still hanging up, your clothes hanging on your thin body in strips of dirt.
'No...' you heard a mumble. 'What have they done to you?'
Suddenly, the chains gave way and you lurched forward, with no strength to catch you. Luckily, you didn't have to, as strong and warm arms pulled you into his chest.
'Hey, wake up, look at me, dammit.'
Azriel.
You'd know the voice in the darkest days, in the pit of your worst nightmare you'd know.
You try to speak but your head's heavy, your lips are stone and your arms can't lift to hold onto him. You're exhausted, you're dying. The only thing you could do use all your strength to try to open your eyes.
'Please, please, look at me. You have to look at me,'
You were trying, you wanted to tell hm, snap at him, but you couldn't.
You felt Azriel shake, or maybe you were. Then, there was wet drops landing on your cheeks- you flinched.
'I'm sorry, i'm sorry. Rhys! Rhys! hurry up, please!' he was screaming. You'd never heard him scream before.
You heard the rush of feet at the cell doors, you knew it was your brother. You knew it from the presence of him, from the shuffling of feet and chocked sob. Your brother didn't cry, least of all for you.
'Her wings, oh mother, her wings,' said Azriel, his voice barley above that of a whisper.
Your wings. You didn't need reminding. They were gone, long and far gone. You were without a part of you, the very part of your soul that loved to be free. Never would you watch the stars up close or fly over everyone. Never race Cassian or make jokes with Az.
No, this would destroy you.
'y/n,' your half-brother called. 'No, y/n. Can you hear me?'
Your lips parted, mumbling. 'Hurts.'
Azriel's grip on you tightened. 'I know, we're gonna get you out of here, just hold on for me.'
You wanted to tell him you would hold on, you'd always need to hold on to him. That, no matter what he asks, you'd do it. To kill, to live, to breathe, to die.
And that's when it clicked. Amongst all the pain and the doubt. In your blood soaked clothes. In the fear you wouldn't make it, there was a tug. Weak and one-sided, but there. You knew you'd be safe with Azriel, knew you would always be with him.
Mate.
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The pain subsided to a dull ache, there and beating but not excruciating. You were warm and covered in a soft material. Nothing like the cell you'd been kept in. Your fingertips sunk into something soft- a bed. Your bed. It was familiar in its lavender scent to you and the silk wrapped around you gave you some semblance of warmth.
Your wings.
Even coming to consciousness was difficult. You were exhausted but light, without the weight of wings holding you down. You'd never realised how much you needed to feel that weight, to feel pulled down in order to be free.
Gone, all gone.
Your hand twitches around something cold, a shadow holding your hand, creeping up your side.
'You're awake, thank the couldron.'
It wasn't Azriel, master of the shadows. It wasn't your mate. Mate. The word replayed like a terrible song in your mind.
How dare the mother do this to Az. How dare he- nothing but loyal and kind- get stuck with a person made in darkness, who bled shadows, who's heart was so full of hate there wasn't room for love. They'd cursed Az, with you.
But luckily it wasn't him, it was Rhysand.
'It really happened,' you whispered, voice hurting from the screams.
He sighed. 'I'm sorry, i'm so sorry. We-we thought you weren't going to make it, you'd lost so much blood.'
In spite of the pain in your shoulders, you made a shift, turning from him as he ranted on about your condition.
'y/n... sister, please,' he said. He'd never called you sister before. He'd always been content to treat you just like you worked for him.
'Leave me alone.' you couldn't bare to look at him, couldn't bare to face him. The shadows at your hand grew heavier, as if more were piling on. You stretched your fingers away from them, trying to get them off you.
'Are you in any pain?' asked Rhys.
'Get out,' you mumbled.
The end of your bed dipped where Rhys settled, hand splayed on the covers, begging for your hand. 'y/n.'
'Get out!' you snapped, body tense and straining. You felt your wounds open up, blood wetting the bandage around you. But you didn't care. You'd happily bleed if you couldn't fly. A part of you, sick part of you wanted to be left there. It would be better than false sympathy.
Be better than your mate being disgusted.
'Get out!' you yelled again, voice tearing through an aching throat.
'I just want to help you! please, let me help you!' said Rhys, standing from your bed and walking around, trying to face you.
'I don't want your help!' you screamed. You reached for the closest thing you could, a jug of water and chucked it toward him. You aim was terrible, marred with pain and exhaustion. 'Get out!'
Though hesitant, Rhysand slowly started walking back to your door. He did it all looking at you, his hands out to show he wasn't gonna hurt you, but you didn't care. You went for the glasses next and chucked them but they landed against the door which he disappeared through.
Before it slid close you caught sight of Cassian , Mor and Azriel. All crowded, all waiting to see you.
You'd be happy if you never let them see you again.
'Can we see her?' you hear Mor ask.
'Give her time,' said Rhys.
The shadows at your hand grew heavier, darker, tighter.
'Go away!' you yelled at them. To anyone else, you probably looked crazy, screaming to darkness. But the shadows understood. They departed, slithering away and under the crack of your door where you could see the shadows of feet.
Tumbling from bed, you stumbled over and locked the door, leaning on it to and catching your breath. Your nightgown was starting to get sticky with blood all over again. When you closed your eyes, you pictured the cell, the rough hands holding you down, the chain keeping you up.
And the pain, it all washed over you. The hacking at your back, the sting of a slap. It hit you like a tone of bricks as you slid to the floor.
There was a knock, rattling the door.
'y/n,' Cassian. 'Please let us in.'
Us. You felt him on the other side. Your mate, his presence lingering. His shadows under the door, wanting to come in but keeping their distance.
He didn't know. It hadn't snapped for him, you could tell. It was one tug on your end, a chord in your heart. At least he couldn't feel what you did. At least you could shoulder it alone.
'Please.' his voice was almost your un-doing. He sounded so sad, so desperate. It hurt you just to think you were hurting him.
Tears streamed down your face as your curled your fingers into a tight fist. You assumed Mor had left with Rhys, leaving you there with the males.
Cass was always like a brother to you. Granted- a brother you had slept with once or twice- but he was your best friend. You'd always been close to him. But you'd always been good, a happy person.
You couldn't be that for them now, perhaps ever again.
It lasted like that for hours. Cassian and Az begging to come in, you curling into a ball with tears down your cheeks and blood down your back.
Eventually, they gave up. You couldn't hear them anymore and the shadows of their boots had disappeared.
Except Azriel's shadows that still lingered under your door. Maybe he'd ordered them to be there while they left you.
Eventually, you managed to find your footing on shaking legs. Your room was large, one of the largest. It was just as much a mess as it was when you'd left for you mission, clothes thrown over the place, books propped open on the pages you'd left them on. Everything was the same but could never be again.
It took you longer than you'd care to admit to get to your windows and throw the curtains close. Candles light at your request, the house looking after you as it had since you were a child.
You caught sight of yourself in the full length mirror. It seemed smaller, everything in the room felt too large and you too small, as if you were being swallowed by the expanse of it.
Your frame was small in the mirror, your hair disarrayed. Your eyes were red and shutting of their own accord from the tears that had drained you. The starving in the cells had made you look weak, made you feel weak.
And your back. There was no more looming black figures there, no more fluttering. There was just nothing. In spite of the ache as you lifted your arm, you felt around your back, feeling the hitch there, the lump from where they'd been torn from you.
You cry. You sob. You scream.
The scars were long and the nightdress was sticking to you by the blood you'd shed. All you could do, was hold yourself up as your body wracked with tears.
A breeze came from your windows, shadows tugging at the curtains.
You felt him before you saw him. You wanted to tell him to leave you but you couldn't talk without chocking. Without feeling like you couldn't breath.
Azriel had you in your arms before your knees could hit the ground. He fell with you, softening your body on the floor. His arms held you into his chest, his legs caging you into his body. His head rested on yours as he held you. He didn't try to talk, he didn't try to help. It was just him, you and his shadows.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Azriel remembered dozing off with you, his head on yours. His arms holding you into him, as if it was up to him to keep the sadness away and take it for you.
Afterall, you were his best friend. He should have been there for you, and he'd failed terribly by letting you get hurt and your wings stolen from you. He could hate himself every day for it, for letting you down. But it would never amount to what you felt for yourself and that killed him.
He could see it in the way you cried, in the way you were already keeping everyone out. He'd rather die than let you go through all the pain alone.
When his hands had been scarred by his brothers, you'd help heal him, tell him about everything he still was and all the power he still held in his hands. In the worst days, when he didn't let anyone touch him, he let you.
It was always you.
Azriel wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep, or how deep. He was sure he was still with you, still in your bed.
His shadows crept up on him, engulfing him slowly and whispering to him. Your name, just your name on repeat. It was enough to lull him back into sleep, to keep him calm.
Gone. Missing. y'n. Roof.
He shot up and ran fastest than he ever had in his life. It was as if he'd never been asleep but had been fighting a battle with the way he raced over.
He burst through the doors, the cold hight air hitting him.
You stood facing the stars, your bloody back to him. It wasn't as much blood as when he'd found you, but it was still enough to put a lump in his throat.
Immediately his shadows fell to you, cascading down your body and wrapping around your waist. There was a breeze in the air, pushing your hair back and exposing more signs of the pain and torture you must have gone through.
'I'm not gonna jump, if that's what you're thinking,' you said. You didn't even have to turn to him. The shadows probably told you enough.
'Why are you up here?' he asked, walking to you slowly and with careful steps. As if every step closer could you push you away from him.
'I'll never feel the win properly again,' you answered.
Azriel gulped down his own pain. You’d never sounded so small. ‘Can you get away from the ledge?’
'I'm not on the ledge.'
'You're too close for my liking.'
'Leave if you don't like it.'
'Don't do this,' he said.
'Do what?' you asked, folding your arms over your chest. You were cold, out in the hight but you wanted to see the stars. Needed to see them.
'Make me leave. Make everyone leave you. I know that's what you're doing. It's what you do every time,' you could feel him dawning closer. His shadows were all around you, almost drowning you.
‘Every time,’ you scoff, stepping down and turning on him. ‘It’s not every day you lose your wings Azriel! But don’t let me stop you from leaving, flap them and go!’ You yelled, unable to stop yourself, no matter how hard you tried. You didn’t want to hurt him, you just wanted to be alone.
Mate. Mate. Mate.
'You jump and I’ll catch you,' he said. He was a step away, he could just reach out and touch, just a gentle caress. 'I swear it, whatever you do, I’ll follow. I’m not letting you get away.’
He watched your back shudder as he reached out, brushing knuckles against your shoulder blade. He heard your sharp inhale follow.
'Don’t think I won’t follow, y/n.'
Finally, you turned around in his shadows. You couldn’t meet his eyes but at least you could face his chest.
His hands were gentle on your shoulder as he rubbed it gently. 'Can I get Madja to clean you up?' He asked.
You nodded as he led you away. You truly did not deserve your mate.
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Fifty-two years later...
When Amarantha had trapped the high lords of Prythian under the mountain, it hadn't be a conscious choice to follow your half-brother down. How Amarantha had allowed it, you weren't sure, but perhaps she wanted to use you just like her brother, or she thought it would bring more pain for him to see you suffer under there too.
You and Rhysand had barley spoke the last two years.
It had took you almost two months to heal fully enough to leave your room, another few months to face your family again. But even then, everyone knew something had changed in you. You didn't laugh as loud or smile as wide.
Rhysand was careful to ever let you out on a mission. Mor tried to take you out every night. Cassian spent all day every day with you and Azriel- he'd healed you better than any nurse.
Still, you had not told him he was your mate.
Still, you thought he wouldn't want it.
Still, you cared for your brother enough to not want him to go alone.
But being under the mountain, you could avoid your mate. At a painful price.
Until her. Rhys's mate. He hadn't shut up about her since he first met her, much to your dismay as you had to sit around and listen- having absolutely nothing better to do. And it only got worse when she turned up under the mountain. She was declaring her love for Tamlin- again, annoying your brother, and throwing Lucien into danger- which rather angered you. You had nothing against the ginger.
Rhysand had once sent you to find the girl to summon her as part of a bargain he'd made. He didn't want to go, he didn't want to look too forceful. You'd been lucky enough to find the two tangled up in each other against a cold wall, clothes ripped and hips moving together.
'Well, well well,' you'd intterupted.
Tamlin all but growled at you, but feyre was looking over you- evidently confused. She had no idea who you were. You, in your skimpy outfit that Amarantha kept you in (they all dipped low at your back, showing off your scars) and your eyes that were like a night sky.
'Amarantha's looking for her pet and Rhysand is looking for his. Honestly, i'd be a bit more worried if I were you. You know, considering Lucien still has an eye to lose.'
The two parted with your words as you sent Tamlin back to his master, the high lord glaring at you as you went. While Feyre tried to fix herself.
'Rhysand is over there, better not keep him waiting.' That was the first time you met her, having no idea how much trouble she'd be worth. The family that she'd become.
But Rhysand made sure you knew it all. From when the bond snapped in him and he'd stumbled. He ranted and ranted as they climbed out.
If only you were so talkative about Azriel. If only you could talk about him with your brother. But you'd tried not to painfully think about him. Climbing out of the mountain. It was all you could think of.
Maybe he'd have forgotten you? it had been fifty years. He'd probably realised how happy he could be without having to take care of you.
Rhys was allowed out of the mountain, he'd felt the breeze in his hair but you hadn't in fifty long years. You stood there a moment, bathing in the warmth as everyone left, as everyone ran off for their families and courts and the war that was inevitable. Eventually, Rhys offered you his arm. 'Shall we go home?'
He winnowed you there, on the balcony of your home. In a cloud of black smoke, the two of you appeared.
He went first, slipping through the doors slowly- like it could all be taken from them any minute.
You were hesitant, taking a moment to glance at the landscape behind you. It hadn't changed, not at all. The mountains were still there, everyone was still alive. Your home. In the last years it hadn't felt like home, but how could anywhere ever feel so close in your heart.
When you could find your feat again, you managed to slip through the doors. You were suddenly aware of how little clothing you were wearing, just enough to cover your chest and run down your legs. A chill settled down your back, your scars would be on show. What a way to great them all after fifty years.
Mor had her arms around Rhys's shoulders, crying into his shoulder.
Behind them you caught Amren, with something like tears in her eyes. You were just about to tease her before a body barrelled into yours in a blur of red syphons and your feet were lifted from the ground.
'Cassian.'
His arms tightened around you. You shoulder started to dampen with tears, his tears. The last time you'd seen him cry around you was when he'd seen a dog with only three legs. 'I'm keeping you on a leash from now on, stupid idiot.'
Your arms wrap around his shoulders, a smile gracing your lips. 'Is that a promise?'
He held you longer, tighter, not daring to let you go but at least settling you on the ground. He sighed against your head, controlling himself. 'He's missed you, you know,' he said. He was the only one you'd told, about your mate. 'Now that you're back, tell him. He deserves to know.'
Cassian slowly pulled away, holding you at arms length and smiling at you. He kissed your cheeks and then your forehead before parting to Rhysand.
Mor approached you next, slapping you in the arm.
'Ow!'
'Why would you follow him?' she snapped.
You blinked at her before she took you by the arm she'd slapped and embraced you, like a sister would. You dared not looking over her shoulder to find the one who hadn't come to you. Maybe Cass had got it wrong...
Mor pulled away, wiping at her eyes.
Azriel was as beautiful as the day you left him. His hair was the same length, he was the same height. He was just as you left him. It was hard to tell fifty years had passed on him.
And inside of you, tugging in your soul and heart you felt the familiar string of gold throbbing. But you still didn't feel that tug. You'd hoped it would have faded from you after half a year separated. Or at least have snapped for him. But no such relief.
He approached you, slowly. As if he was scared of scaring you away. But you just stood there.
His arms were delicate and soft around you as he brought you into his chest. He still smelled the same, cedar wood and shadows. Shadows that wrapped around you, shielding you from the rest of the room. They caressed you, head to two.
You held onto each other for what could have been another fifty years, but this time, it wasn't so painful.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Although nobody wanted to part after yours and Rhysand's return, you were exhausted. A trip to Rita's could wait another night or two. The only thing you wanted to do was hide in your room.
Strangely, your room looked lived in. As if somebody had moved in since you'd left. A moment of anger replaced grief. Had they brought someone else and given them your room? but then you smelt it, Az.
Lying in bed that night, exhausted, you couldn't find sleep. You closed your eyes and pictured Amarantha. You'd never been afraid of her, you weren't afraid of anything. But you re-played the horrors. Watching servants beat Feyre, watching Amarantha use your brother and on the occasion, even you. How she flaunted. How the most powerful lords were weak.
Under your door, shadows seeped in, rushing across the room to you. You smiled, watching your hand disappear in their darkness.
'Azriel?' you called.
There was shifting on the other side of the door before he slipped in, clicking it shut behind him.
You sat up in bed, shadows moving with you. 'Couldn't sleep?'
He wondered in, looking around your room. 'Sleeping's been... hard.'
You rolled over, opening the blanket and nodding your head. You couldn't think about the bond, not yet. Not while he looked so.... ruined. Beautiful- the most beautiful person in the world, but sad. As he climbed in next to you, you could see the dark circles under his eyes, his shoulders slumped and his wings too.
His eyes scanned over you. You were in a thin and silk night dress that only brushed your knees, but the way he looked at you, mother you could've been naked. 'Fifty years,' his voice sounded barley controlled. 'Fifty years. You followed your brother down for fifty years? Why would you do that?'
You gulp. 'I would've done it for any of you. Except maybe Amren, she'd probably enjoy the peace for fifty years.'
You go to brush your hair back but Azriel seizes your wrist. He was angry. That's why his voice was rough and his chest rising and falling with barley controlled emotions. Could he feel it? your nerves, your lying?
'You left. You should've stayed, y/n, you know Rhysand didn't want you under there with him,' he said. 'For fifty years I haven't been able to sleep through a night thinking about the pain you must have been going through. After I swore to keep you safe, after I promised to catch you every time!'
'You couldn't have stopped me. You didn't promise, Az.'
His grip grew tighter. 'It went without saying.'
You looked around his eyes, seeing the pain and grief there also. Slowly, you brought your other hand up. He flinched as you took his cheek but eventually settled as your thumb ran over his cheekbone. 'I won't leave again, ok? I promise.'
He gulped, letting go of your wrist and looking down. 'I slept here,' he mumbled, but just loud enough to hear you. 'I couldn't sleep in my room. This was the only place I could rest.'
Your heart stuttered. Your hand dropped from his cheek. This man was your mate. Your mate. Your only love, whether or not the cauldron deemed it.
Azriel took your hesitation. 'I-i'm sorry, you probably didn't want to hear that. I've probably ruined your one place of peace-'
'Stay,' you said, before you could think of what you were asking. 'Sleeping wasn't exactly easy under the mountain either. I just trust I won't have to put a wall of cushions between us.' as if you wanted that. As if you haven't thought about his calloused hands all over you.
Azriel smiled and stayed the night.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
The third time he almost lost you, broke him...
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