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Summary: Cassian and Azriel come home late to surprise you and fulfill a particular dream of yours.
Warnings: mask kink, oral (m!receiving)
Word Count: 1026
A/N: happy kinktober! I couldn’t miss this sacred holiday, here’s my contribution. please accept this as my apology for disappearing. and a second apology because I’m very dusty and rusty with writing right now. big thank you to @whisperingmidnights for helping me polish this up!
You were certain the leaf embroidered on the pillow was permanently etched on your cheek by now, considering you'd spent the last several hours drifting in and out of consciousness, bleary eyes squinting at the clock every half hour or so. The hour had grown late and they still weren't home. It was starting to irritate – and slightly worry – you. They'd insisted they would be back tonight. Around midnight, you realized tonight didn't come with a timeframe. To them, that could mean four a.m., or some other horrific hour. You set a mental note to talk about it, another day. They'd always come home when promised, or get word to you if they couldn't. Letting that thought circle in your mind, you tried for patience.
You'd debated switching from the cozy sofa to the even cozier bed, but there was something special about seeing their faces the moment they crossed the doorway: the beaming grin from Cassian and soft smile from Azriel. Besides, the couch was cozy. Worn in by time and countless good memories. Fingers plucked at a feather peeking out from your pillow, watching it flutter and drift to the ground.
Picking a favorite memory, you let your eyes drift closed, head pressed into a pillow, blanket tucked under your chin, a small smile curving your lips.
The creak of old hinges and click of the lock brought you to bleary consciousness. Pale moonlight streaming through the window illuminated two familiar silhouettes; not quite enough to make out the fine details of their faces but memory filled in any gaps. You could picture them clear as daylight, right down to the last freckle.
Pushing on your hands, you pressed the small of your back into the arm of the couch, tossing the pillow to the side, blanket sliding down your body, fingers tapping in anticipation and excitement.
Your mouth opened in prepared greeting just as lamps flickered on, your two lovers facing you, their features obscured. Your jaw hung open, eyes darting between the two of them.
They wore nearly identical masks, Cassian's detailed in red, and Azriel's in blue.
Cassian's head titled towards the clock before turning back in your direction. "Good morning, princess."
Teeth dug into your bottom lip, you didn't dare take your eyes off them to check the hour. It felt as if this very image might disappear, and you didn't want to miss a second of them fulfilling the fantasy you'd confessed after too many glasses of wine.
-
Cassian wasn't bothered by your non-reply. Not with how hungrily your eyes were taking in both of their figures, switching back and forth rapidly. That goddamn lip bite threatening to put him on his knees.
It was worth the trouble it took to track down someone who could make a mask like this with discretion.
Azriel nudged his side, and he strode forward, crouching in front of you on the couch. You twisted to face him, legs already falling to the side. So fucking good. His thumb barely brushed against the bare sliver of skin on your stomach, and you froze under his touch. You were perfect, in every way. He sensed Azriel standing behind him, slightly off to his side.
Cassian reached up, tugging your lip free from your teeth. Your tongue darted out, swirling around the tip of his thumb. Head falling back in a groan, he rose to his feet, one arm scooping beneath your knees, a hand bracing your back as he threw you over his shoulder. Az chuckled behind him as he tried his best not to sprint up the stairs, made more difficult by your feather light touches trailing over the tips of his wings. He gritted his teeth, palm meeting your ass in a slap he was sure stung, but it didn't stop you, not that he really expected it to.
It only ceased when he tossed you on the bed, watching with satisfaction as you bounced, skidding to a stop against the pillow cushioned headboard. Arms crossed, he took up a position a few feet away as Azriel stalked towards you, shadows trailing after him, almost playful in the soft moonlight. Rightfully so, a glint of caution crossed your features.
-
Azriel hadn't necessarily been surprised by your reaction, especially considering the look on your face when you told them about this … interest. But, it was another thing to actually see your sweet expression. To scent the near-instant arousal. To share the pure intensity of desire.
Gripping your shoulders, he twisted you so your back was to him, dragging you towards the side of the bed and letting your head just hang off the edge.
Running a scarred thumb across the contours of your throat, your mouth was open, waiting, before his other hand even reached his belt.
The mask hid his amused smile. He loved how eager you always were. How you genuinely craved them. Wanted them.
His head fell back as his cock slid in, your tongue swirling first around his tip before flattening. Gripping either side of your face to hold you still, he slowly slid in.
One hand slid to the back of your head, the other moving to trace the outline of his cock in your throat. He heard your steady breaths through your nose, Cassian's sharp exhale as he watched the show. It would be his turn soon enough.
Aware you couldn't see, he tilted his head towards Cassian, motioning to your open legs. The other male moved, obviously struggling not to sprint right towards you. He focused his attention back on you, their beautiful female, mouth wide open and taking him so fucking well.
"That's a good girl," he murmured, slowly sliding out before pushing back in, letting the walls of your throat press against him, going just deep enough to make you gag before retreating.
You moaned against him, vibrations making him grit his teeth, and he looked up to see Cassian knelt between your legs, hands pushing your legs apart. His mouth hadn't even touched you yet and you were already falling apart, legs trembling in anticipation. Gods he loved you.
a feel like the new generation of fanfic readers NEED to understand that clicking on a fic (interaction) does nothing. ao3 has no algorithm. your private discord discussions of fic do not reach the authors. if you do not actively engage with writers they will stop posting. this isn’t social media this is community.
If it's not too much trouble, could you do Ruhn x reader with overdose from the bingo (and possibly squeeze in a happy ending if your creative juices allow it)
absolutely I can! fair warning I got help from my partner to try and make this more medically accurate, and it doesn't go into great detail, but there is some.
Ruhn typically didn't mind if you 'borrowed' some of his mirth root, and if you needed it any day, it was today. You were exhausted, being yelled at by about 15 different people at work, all of them varying ranges of nasty. A little something to take the edge off was more than welcome.
Courteous as always, you leaned out the window leaning over the private alley, bringing the rolled paper up to your lips.
You smoked your usual amount, intent on more, before noticing something was off. Noticing you felt a little too good. Turning your head to look at your hand, it took twice as long as typical for your vision to catch and focus. When you blinked in confusion your vision blurred and it took a heroic effort to get your eye lids back open. You managed to pivot around, before slumping back against the wall.
-
Ruhn's day had been absolute bullshit. The only highlight? He'd get to come home to see you. In fact, he hadn't stopped thinking about it all day through various tedious aux meetings.
The smell of mirth root hit his senses as he reached the top landing, a smile perking the corner of his mouth. He could always count on you to 'borrow' his stuff, and he always bought more for you. This time, he'd gone with a new supplier recommended by a friend. He made a mental note to ask you how it was.
Ruhn pushed the door open with the toe of his boot, mouth open for a greeting, hand on the strap of the Starsword's sheath, and froze.
Three seconds passed as you were slumped against the wall, drool coming from the corner of your mouth, a sound, almost like a gurgling snore, echoing in your throat, eyes flickering.
He'd encountered this situation several times in aux work, occasionally in his own home, but never expected it to show up with you.
One hand pulled out his phone to call emergency services as he sprinted across the room, sliding on his knees to reach your side.
Two fingers checked for a pulse on the side of your neck, finding it barely there. He cursed under his breath, other thumb dialing the number.
“What's the address of your emergency?”
Ruhn spit off his address, answered what felt like a million questions, and was instructed to do things he already knew how to do, but he couldn't deny having the operators guidance was the only thing keeping him sane.
He had no doubt his name was part of the reason they arrived within minutes, the mediwitches bustling you out, him following like a lost dog.
-
Ruhn sat next to your hospital bed, clutching your hand in his, waiting desperately for a sign of anything. He could've sworn twice your fingers twitched, but each probably was a sleep deprived hallucination. He was already offered a bed several times, but declined each one.
In his head, he was thinking of a hundred different ways to murder his friend. He'd start with the supplier, however. All of this depended on whether or not you'd show a sign of fucking life.
Like an answer to his curses and pleas, your fingers twitched. A smile graced his lips as he rang the call button.
I think I said I would try a modern AU for them, but I changed my mind 🤣. I've had the urge to put her in the middle of all the bat boys recently just to see what would happen.
The dress Clotho helped her order was nothing like the fine, expensive fabrics the High Lord was likely used to, but it couldn't necessarily be called cheap either. Made of light, pale blue fabric, the cut is flattering without being too revealing. Sleeveless with a high neckline tied with a matching ribbon, the skirt flows around her legs and hips like water.
Gwyn turns in front of her mirror, admiring the cut of the dress and the braids a younger acolyte helped her weave and pin. It's the prettiest she's felt in a long, long time. A clock chimes seven down the hall, and she snatches her cloak from the hook on her door before she heads up the steps to the House of Wind.
Azriel's shadows greet her at the door, swarming at her skirts like eager puppies begging for attention. She leans down, letting her fingers drift through them in the closest approximation to petting she can get. They bump against her fingers before swarming off, and she follows them into the sitting area, a spacious room with low-backed sofas and chairs designed for wings. Rhysand leans against the balcony railing, looking out over Velaris as the sun slips lower on the horizon.
He's beautiful, so beautiful it almost hurts to look at him. And he's taken an interest in her. Azriel's shadows slither up onto the rail next to him. He glances over his shoulder, his eyebrows raising when he notices her standing there. Rhysand immediately straightens, greeting her with a charming grin as he slides his hands into his pockets.
"How lovely you look, Gwyneth," he notes, his eyes roaming over her lithe figure before meeting hers once more. "Your dress is beautiful."
"You think so?" she asks, smoothing her hands over the skirt. "It's not too much."
"No. You look perfect. Are you sure you're ready?"
"I...I think so." Gwyn cranes to look over his shoulder at the city below. It's just dinner in his favorite little restaurant. They've had brief outings, walks in public gardens and along the riverfront, just enough to get her to a place that wandering the city at his side doesn't frighten her anymore. He always keeps her safe. "It's dinner. I can do dinner."
"I know you can," he agrees, sounding more confident than she feels. But she can do this. She will. He holds his hand out and she takes it, allowing him to pull her closer. To bring the back of her hand to his lips. His starry eyes are bright in the fading light, and her heart flutters as his scent wraps around her. Citrus and sea air. He smells like home.
Maybe tonight she'll find the nerve to kiss him. Maybe.
Azriel x reader blackmail? It sounds like it could be fun!!
this definitely was fun!!
“I know,” you stated simply, setting the teacup down. The small cafe bustled with life around the two of you, but your table seemed to form a void. Air was hard to find. You sucked in sharply through your nose as his eyes … flickered? Possibly, you couldn't be certain. For all you knew, you were trying to draw conclusions from nothing.
“I'm aware you know many things,” he finally said. 66 seconds later, words low, cold, deadly. He dropped a few gold coins on the table, a slight tremor in his hand. More than enough. Azriel stood quietly, and rounded the table, stopping to lower his head towards your ear, “but I'd be very careful who you tell.” He squeezed your shoulder, fingers digging in. You thought you might throw up over half eaten pastries and lace dollies and fine tea cups.
Sharp wind lifted the hair off the back of your neck as he disappeared through the doors, cool autumn breeze cutting through. Not unlike a blade slicing across your skin. You wondered if the same fate might be headed your way tonight, only its blade formed of pure metal. Would he make you talk first?
You glanced at the clock across the shop. He'd be in meetings for 3 hours, it should be just enough time for your plan to work. You gathered the extra gold coins, the. mother only knows you might be needing them in the future, and nearly flew through the door.
OMG MY LOVE IRENEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE MY BBGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG LONG TIME NO SEE HOW ARE YOUUUUUUUUUUU I JUST CAME BACK AFTER LIKE A MONTH OF HIATUS AND REALISED UR BACK TOO HIHIHIIHIII
HI WELCOME BACK TOO AHHHH!!!!! It's good to hear from you, how are you friend???
more bingo prompts hopefully coming this weekend!! It’ll be a little packed for me but I’m doing my best to make time to write ♥️ here’s my dog holding her feets
Rowan's fingers danced down your spine, your breath catching as he rested his hand on the curve of your ass with a light squeeze.
He tapped his fingers rhythmically against you, as if he was deep in thought.
“It's funny,” he leaned down to whisper in your ear. “I just came to a realization, petal. Would you like to know what that is?” His voice had taken on a tone you recognized, and you swallowed but nodded. If he or Aelin wanted to tell you something, you wanted to hear it. “I can do whatever I'd like to you, right here where anyone could walk in.”:
Aelin laughed from the chair across from the two of you.
This time your breath caught, whites around your eyes showed as your world flipped over. The pretty little dress Aelin picked out this morning bunched up around your hips.
His hand made a thwack, one arm wrapped around your legs as your body rocked from the impact.
Aelin strode across the floor, stopping to crouch by your head, her fingers running through your hair. “You take it so well, don't you petal? You love being our perfect little angel.”
Tears wound up in your eyes, you nodded. This made everything worth it
manon x reader x dorian & chained to a bed plz :) missed u irene!
I missed y'all!!
Your head turned from side to side, finding your sleep more difficult than usual. You twisted back and forth, a small rattling drawing you into consciousness.
As you shifted your legs, you heard the rattle again, felt the cool press of metal against your skin. Gasping, as if air was suddenly hard to come by, you shot up in bed, fingers running down the skin of your legs. At your ankle, a thick iron band wrapped around, just tight enough to keep it secure against your skin.
Tugging from various angles and pressures revealed abysmal results. You truly were stuck. And in your own bed too.
The door knob twisted, the sound sharp against the quiet despair of your own thoughts. You could've sworn your heard a key jangle as two familiar figures entered the room. Familiar and distant at the same time.
Averting your eyes, you swallowed harshly. Sharp nails dug lightly at your chin. Lifting your gaze, you met both of them, attempting to appear strong and posied and everything you weren't feeling.
“Why?” You managed to gasp.
“You keep running in the middle of the night,” Dorian frowned, but drew a key from his pocket, angling it towards the lock.
It was a beautiful chair, really. Soft brown leather and plush cushioning, arms designed to the perfect height for comfort. Completely at odds with the situation you found yourself in.
You felt his hands brace the high back, before he circled around to crouch in front of you.
“You know better than that, don't you love?”
“Better than what?” You asked absentmindedly.
“Better than to go against what I say,” his fingers reached out to stroke your cheek, “you know I always have your best interest at heart, darling.”
You nodded, again fading somewhere distant, but deep inside you a kernel of recognition flickered. As if he was telling the truth, as if he was the truth.
hi friends, long story short my mental health went to shit, I did more therapy, I'm doing better and trying to ease myself back into writing, hence this little bingo. giant thank you to @whisperingmidnights for all of her amazing help and inspiration. please send in any pairing from the sjm multiverse whether it be character x character or character x reader for me to write a small drabble for! I love you all and appreciate your patience.
summary: with each journal prompt, you couldn't decide if you lost or regained more of you. years dedicated to them, tossed away when you'd had enough. little did you know, Rowan and Aelin have a plan ... but even they can't decide if it's to get you back or make you suffer.
warnings: breakups, emotional turmoil, while this fic is dark and deals with dubious themes, the reader consents to everything that’s happening, which will continue to become clearer through the fic!
a/n: written for day 7 of @polysjmweek
series masterlist // chapter one (coming soon)
When did you realize you'd never mean as much to them as they do to you?
The words lingered on the page of your journal, the one your friends recommended. They said it would help, but right now … all you felt was pain. Pain at ripping open a wound that barely had the chance to close, if at all.
It would be a miracle if you made it through this intact. You were already shattered, like pieces of glass on carpet, hiding and waiting to strike at the right moment. In your pain, you drove away all but a select few who refused to give up on you. Those few would never know how much it meant to you. Thinking of their faces, the cautious hope when you'd accepted your gift, gave you the strength to return to the page.
When did you realize you'd never mean as much to them as they do to you?
Dipping your pen into the ink pot, you tapped off the excess and angled your head. Air leaving your lungs, arm tensing, teeth digging into bottom lip, you let yourself go back there. Pen scratched against paper.
One week earlier.
Rowan paced in front of the fireplace, wallowing in misery of his own creation. Even if it was perhaps the most honest thing he'd said to you in…months.
“We're mates, what did you expect?”
For some reason he hadn't expected your tears, didn't have time to set expectations.
“Thank you,” you'd said, tears running silently down your cheeks. He thought you looked beautiful like that, in a tragic way.
“Why?” He responded flatly.
Mouth pursed, as if you might regret the words that came next. Rowan wished you would, at least he'd know you're saying how you truly feel then.
“I know now,” your hand twitched, “that I'll never mean as much to you as you do to me. I always saw us as equals,” you sucked in the word like venom seeping into your veins, as if he was the serpent who'd struck sure, “but I won't stand here and beg for you. You can tell Aelin what happened.”
“Aelin would agree with me,” the words were instinctive but uncertain. He was treading in waters he'd hoped to never cross, but knew he always would one day.
You wiped your cheeks with the back of your hands.
Closing the book, you let tears drip down your cheeks, wetting the leather cover. Not a particularly emoting volume, but the ending got you. Rowan was there in an instant, as if he'd scented the salt of your tears on the winds he carried with him. Moving the book to the side, he gripped your chin with one hand, the back of his other wiping away the tears. He pressed a kiss on the tracks left behind.
“I don't like seeing you cry, beautiful,” he murmured.
“It's just a book,” you sighed, laughing softly as he eyed the book like he wanted to rip it and its author to pieces for hurting you. “Aelin wouldn't appreciate that, it's hers.” The look in his eyes softened at her name.
The six feet between you suddenly seemed like miles. Rowan was stuck in a vacuum as your lips moved, relaying the final blow he may or may not recall later. He would always recall the pain that struck right into his soul, that brought him to his knees as he watched your hand close around the doorknob, heard it snick shut softly. You'd snuck into their lives, a soft and gentle calm, a summer wave, and left as a hurricane, destruction and chaos in your path.
Aelin found him, still on his knees, gaze fixed on the gods-damned door handle.
He was aware of her kneeling before him, of her taking his cheeks in her hands.
“What happened my love?” The words were a distant whisper.
Aelin's forehead pressed against his, turquoise and gold eyes digging into his own with a startling intensity. “What happened?” She repeated, more forcefully this time, fingertips digging into his cheeks, the soft hint of heat bringing him back to the present.
“She left,” he all but whispered, words leaving with the last of the air from his lungs as he crumpled. His fist hit the carpet. “She fucking left.”
“Who?” Aelin asked. He didn't answer. She knew.
He watched, eyes glazed, as she whirled towards the door, eyes on the doorknob. It had been polished just this morning, but now bore a smudge from clammy fingers wrapped around it, a slight streak where your fingers had slipped. In his delusion, Rowan thought you'd faltered, that there was a chance to fix this. He clung to the sign, burying it deep inside of him.
summary: with each journal prompt, you couldn't decide if you lost or regained more of you. years dedicated to them, tossed away when you'd had enough. little did you know, Rowan and Aelin have a plan ... but even they can't decide if it's to get you back or make you suffer.
warnings: while this fic is dark and deals with dubious themes, the reader consents to everything that’s happening, which will continue to become clearer through the fic!
a/n: written originally for @polysjmweek. big thank you to @whisperingmidnights for her help beta'ing <3 first chapter coming out 12 p.m. EDT on 4/12
prologue // chapter one // chapter two // chapter three // chapter four // chapter five // chapter six // epilogue
