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#and they can be here with me where it is better. and nobody will hurt us anymore and it is safe and they are loved and every single wish
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unorganized thoughts abt dandelions
I've always loved dandelions. People call them weeds, and for a while I thought that meant they were dangerous. Toxic, even. Truth be told, they're just unwanted. That's all that the word 'weed' means. Once you get a yard full of them, do you think they stop being weeds and start being a garden?
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Dandelions should be a symbol of something radical. Something that fights for kindness.
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Dandelions. God, what kind of a world would this be without them?
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Dandelions mean so much to me. I think they're my favorite flower. Sunflowers, too, of course, but dandelions really get a message across.
#byrd chirps#byrd writes#what is this post? idk#i just like dandelions okay#We're dandelions you and I. Resilient. Our very existence is that of defiance. Every day that we're here is a rebellion.#^^^ i'd love to say that to someone someday#i want dandelions! someone give me a bouquet of dandelions!#me: it's kinda funny that there's no places where u can buy bouquets of dandelions#my mom: well of course there aren't nobody wants dandelions!#me tearing up: i want dandelions!!!#my mom was like why are you getting so defensive#and i wasn't sure how to tell her that it's because i was trying to tell her that dandelions are important to me#and she was saying that nobody wants this thing that's important to me#that i relate to#and that's a little bit hurtful even if it's not meant to be#because when i told her that dandelions are symbols of survival in any situation she was like 'Are You In Survival Mode At All Times?'#like no! how the FUCK did u get that interpretation from that! what the FUCK!#for real tho we should all adopt dandelions as symbols of fighting back against discrimination and marginalization#we are resilient we are rebellious we don't play by your rules we will happily disrupt your status quo#and the world is better with us in it whether you like it or not!#you cannot get rid of us! every attempt to do so will only strengthen our resolve!#we will adapt to and fight back against every single one of your many poisons!#if you make this world hostile to us it will be too hostile for you too!#and the only reasons you have to dislike us are shaky social constructs incorrectly held as truth!#dandelions mean so much to me#might buy dandelion seeds and scatter them in the backyard#see what happens#¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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bewby · 1 year
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when you get blocked by him even tgough you guys barely even talk anymore but the last time you talked which was about a week ago you actually had a nice and healthy conversation and you had alot of love for eachother and it seemed amazing 😂😂😍😍😍😍 no i'm definitely not fucking crying Lol
#it has been 3 years and i'm still here crying over this#well technically it has been about 1 year but also not really. i mean. we stopped talking around december ir smth last year#so it makes sense that this wound is still pretty fresh and will take some time to heal but i'm like. hahhaha#he's still my best friend and this really makes me sad#because i really love him and we even hung out together on genshin for some time#and we sent eachother really nice messages and i told him he xan always come to me no matter what and that i'm always here for him#and that if he's ever in a crisis he can even come see me he doesn't even have to ask#and now i'm blocked. hshdjckdjdhjf#i mean why am i surprised. he has every right to. and i'm his ex . and he likes someone else now#but it still really hurts because i wish i could be a better friend to him at least. but i can't talk to anyone these days#but especially with him it hurts so much because i actually know him so so well and it hurts so much more . like. we know eachother since#i was like. 16 and he was 18. it's insane!!!!!! we share a fucking birthday!!!!! i wanna die!!!!!!#i need to accept that it's over since like years but you can't just do that when you really love someone and care for them#haha . this really sucks alot#i know i need to just move along and i try i do but i will never stop having love for him even if it's just platonic it's so deep like wow#i donmt even know how to explain it and my love for him took over my entire life for years to the point where i turned into an absolute#nobody and it worried him so much too so obviously it makes sense that this takes some time . but God ahhahahshshshahah. ahhahahshsah#i feel so sad and i'm allowed to feel sad . but wjen i feel sad it feels like i'm fucking dying#wow. okay i'll stop now#he has every right to block me but he's my best friend so it hurts. that's all
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trollbreak · 5 months
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Man I need an unhappy but stubborn marriage ship huh
#I was gonna say another one but fluent in violence was just. those bitches clawin at each other lol#it was straightforward#the um. the time enough together build resentment is what I mean. the brief glimmers of adoration and remembering why they signed up for#this. even if they were willing to split up they’d never do it because the public image. the stubborn unbreakable loyalty. nobody else can#touch you but I’ll never give you a soft hand. not except those aching moments where we’re both flayed open and the silence is uncomfortable#because neither of us remembers how to do it. to hold this softness. this care. and then for weeks after they can’t stop thinking about it.#they both crave more of that connection so badly. it’s the sort of relationship where neither of them is necessarily worse than the other#they just. don’t fit together right. but they tried. and they tried. and at some point it became a matter of pride. of ‘um going to Make#this work’. especially if they only got together for social or political purposes or smth. it’s pride on the line and they’d sooner claw out#their teeth than give in now. it’s become a challenge. bend and become something that fits me or break and leave. they’re both so determined#to be the one to hold out in the end that it’s become this self perpetuating thing. you ask them something about one of their lives and they#can both answer it confidently. they know each others lives like the back of their hands. this leads to moments of voices slowly raising#over each other with corrections- although they’d never properly argue here. not with an audience. or it’s a moment of harmony. finishing#each others sentences and falling hand in hand into nostalgia. they each want the other to give in SO badly. they’re never going to ask it.#if they did end up going their own ways. there would be hurt feelings. but they would still care about each other. they’d be better friends#than they ever were as a couple but they refuse to consider that. do u SEE WHAT IM SAYING#< found that one playlist again
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beast-feast · 2 years
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What if I deactivated
#feeling sick because it feels like I did something wrong again and I don't know what it is so I'm grasping at straws#don't know if talking or leaving people alone is the better option here I wanna leave this house I don't feel safe#I don't feel safe saying anything here or anywhere else I don't feel safe in my HOUSE#have to worry about people looking through my windows and having shots fired into my room and someone breaking in because I have two doors#I want out i want to sleep I wish I could say something or disappear and reappear where nobody knows me#be pronounced dead but someone who looks like me shows up in Chattanooga. I want to be nobody I want to be a stranger PLEASE#I don't ever fucking know if leaving people be or not is the right choice BECAUSE I DON'T HELP I NEVER FUCKING.#I never help I am never useful or good enough for people don't you fucking understand why I want to do what I'm doing#trying to hurt myself and poison myself so FINALLY people don't have to deal with me because I'll be too sick to speak#being forced to do things and feeling like I HAVE to exist when all I feel is fear and have delusions and hallucinations#and fucking psychotic symptoms. I can't even go back to the ward because they didn't DO anything#I can never say JACK FUCKING SHIT. EVER.#if I say nothing then suddenly one day you hear about the time I relapsed or when I purposefully eat expired things to get myself sick#but if I DO say something then suddenly it feels like everyone feels obligated to say something and it makes me feel horrible and terrible#and like a bad person I can't I can't I can't I can't#...I guess at least. I have therapy tomorrow. I'm sorry if I'm hospitalized again. I'm so sorry.#not art#vent#tw selfharm#// selfharm#tw ???
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arthur-r · 1 year
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i love (love) (/not correct not sincere this is an untrue fact about myself) dissociating at band practice and then being expected to sing about wanting to kill myself it’s so fun
#fuck. like i’m the person writing these songs but they are not for these moments#catharsis is something you can experience while you have some semblance of a will to live. not when you are staring into space blankly#feeling like a broken person. and actually at that very moment wanting to die#anyway i’ll be okay. just got home. this mom and kid were in the elevator with me up to the apartment and the mom recognized my cello#(​as being a cello i mean) and asked me about it and i told her i’m in a punk band about it and she said that’s the coolest thing#so that was good and cool. and they live on the third floor i live on the first so i might not see them again. but it was nice#and band was fine. and my band likes my song. but sometimes it actually is bad to sing about this stuff sometimes#(especially because it’s like. this particular song is also about. insecurities in relationship. and i’m able to play the song because i#don’t really feel those insecurities as much any more and i’m in a better place with regards to. not spiralling about being loved. however#that only applies to the relationship insecurities of that moment. when i was writing it. and i went a while without developing new ones#but now there’s a lot of irl friendships that feel as unstable as i felt at that time. and so now the song means something to me directly#and now it hurts again. and it’s not good. i’m like scared for certain people to ever hear it)#anyway my mom and little sister are actively waiting for me to come out of the bathroom where i sit typing this. and tell them how band was#and whatever i say will not involve any of these facts. but i sure have to go say it#so idk. i love you guys. struggling a bit. but i’ll be okay. scary current relationships mentioned = nobody here i feel pretty stable#i have built relationships that i feel confident about. with the most important people. and that is really good and i’m glad#there are other newer scarier relationships that i am going insane about. a teacher and two students and a coworker. wish me luck#anyway i have to go. but yeah. idk. i’m so tired. heading out now. be back in a bit#me. my post. mine.#delete later#suicide mention#ask to tag#vent cw#(kind of)#friends only
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sensitivegoblin · 10 months
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Vent
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freedomfireflies · 2 months
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Insufferable You*
Summary: The third part to Infinite You*
The one where Harry is still in an open relationship with your best friend, so maybe it's time to remind him what he's missing.
Word Count: 7.3k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, edging, spanking, brief exhibitionism, sir kink, masturbation, brief choking
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“Kitten…what are you doing?”
Your whimpers are airy. Light. A string of breathless pleas woven between the soft sounds of your fingers fucking into your cunt. And you can’t answer his question. Can’t find the strength to pull yourself away from the pleasure between your thighs.
“Kitten,” he asks again and it’s firm. “Talk to me.”
He’s panting through his request and the sound—the image in your head of the way he must look, fucking his fist to the melody of your voice almost hurts you.
“I’m…I’m playing with my clit,” you answer. He groans. “Just like you do.”
“Just like me, hm?” He curses on his end of the phone and your legs shake. “How?”
“M’pinching it,” you tell him. “And pulling it. The way you like.”
His noises are louder. Needier. He must like the image in his head, too. “God, I’d give anything to see it, baby. Give fucking anything to watch you touch yourself for me.”
Anything. Anything. You shiver. “Yeah? You’d watch me?”
“Mhm.” He’s getting closer and you don’t want this to end. “Sit there on my knees and take every drop in my mouth when you’re done.”
Your hips buck up and your fingers sink deeper. He ruins you even when he’s not here. “I know,” you whisper. Your eyes squeeze shut. “And I’d let you.”
He makes a sound that might be a laugh but could be a strained moan. You aren’t sure. But you don’t really care because it’s beautiful, no matter what it is. “Kitten,” he exhales and your insides twist. “I need you to cum for me, okay? I need to hear you. God, I need to fucking hear you, baby, let me. Come on—”
There’s something in the way he speaks. Like he’s just woken up. Rough and low and thick. He sounds like sex and you miss hearing it in person. But you were desperate—you had to call him. You had to hear him talk you through this moment and you’re so glad you did.
When you cum, it’s everything. Perhaps not as satisfying as when it’s with him, but still euphoric. And your whimpers of pleasure are what send him over the edge.
The phone fills with the sounds of your ecstasy and you wish you could record the way he moans your name. You wish you could bottle this feeling and get drunk on the way he adores you. 
Instead, you indulge in the few moments you have with him. Because you know they won’t last much longer.
“That was good,” you tell him breathlessly and he chuckles. “How are you so good at that? Even over the phone?”
“Could ask you the same thing. Now I’ve got a sticky hand and nobody to clean it up.”
You pout. “Stop, don’t tell me that. It’s not fair.”
He laughs again. “Sorry, Kitten. Couldn’t help it. You all right? You feel better?”
“I do. Thank you for letting me call you.”
“Always.”
Your heart skips. “So…what are you up to today?”
There’s a pause. A long pause and you know what he’s going to say even before he says it. “Rebecca and I are running some errands.”
“Oh.” Oh. Your throat goes dry. “Right…sorry, I’m…you probably need to go, don’t you?”
Another pause. “In a bit,” he says. “After I make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m okay,” you say far too quickly. And far too obviously forced. “Yeah, no, I’m…duh. Obviously I’m okay now. After…yeah. Okay, sorry. You can…I’ll talk to you later—"
“Kitten.”
You stop. “What? I’m…I’m letting you go—”
“Don’t. I want to talk to you a little longer.”
“But you’re busy—”
“It can wait.”
Swallowing, you whisper, “Harry, I’m…I’m just saying—”
“So am I.” He’s firm again. “Don’t do that. Don’t send me away because of her. We can talk. I promise.”
Your eyes squeeze shut. You force the tears back. Why does orgasming make you so emotional? “I know, I just…she’s there, isn’t she?”
Another beat. “Not in the room.”
“But she’s there. In the apartment. Near you.”
“Yes.”
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. “See, that’s…that’s why I’m letting you go. So you can be with her. Okay? I’ll talk to you later—”
“Kitten.”
“Harry.” You huff if only to make yourself sound stronger than you feel. “I’m okay. You can go.”
“You’re not okay. You’re sad.”
“I’m…no, I’m not sad, I’m just…I’m tired. I came really hard.”
“I know you.”
“Well…you don’t know me that well. Cause I’m fine.”
“Baby—”
“Just go,” you insist. “I promise I’m okay as long as you are. I shouldn’t have called so early anyway, that was…I’m sorry. That was my mistake—”
“You can call when she’s here, you know that—”
“But I don’t want to.”
Another long pause that feels like an eternity. “Okay,” he finally murmurs and you pull the phone away to take in a shaky breath. “But I want your honesty. Okay?”
“Sure.”
“Are you really okay?”
Truthfully, you don’t know. “Yeah, I’m fine. Swear. Thanks for helping me. I’ll talk to you later?”
“You will,” he agrees. “Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Rebecca’s dinner.”
Fuck. You forgot. “Oh…right—”
“You’ll be there. Right?”
It doesn’t really feel like you have a choice. “I…I don’t know yet, I might be busy—”
“You’re not.”
“You don’t know that. I could have plans.”
“You do. With us.”
Us. Your nose scrunches. “I mean other plans—”
“You don’t.”
“I might—”
“You don’t. If you did, I’d know.”
“Well, that’s presumptuous.”
“Maybe, but it’s true. Because you talk to me. When I ask you a question, you answer honestly. You’re a good girl. I know you.”
Your chest feels tight again. “Well, I don’t tell you everything.”
“You should.”
“You don’t tell me.”
“Because you don’t ask.”
He’s right. You never ask him anything personal because honestly, you’re afraid of what he’ll say.
“Fine,” you agree. “I’ll be there. Are we done?”
He waits a moment before saying, “We’re not done. We’ll discuss this later. But for right now, yes.”
And even if he sounds a bit strict, you can’t help smiling. “Yes, Sir.”
“Mm. That’s my girl. Take it easy today, all right?”
“I will.”
“Good. See you tomorrow, Kitten.”
“Goodbye, Sir.”
He chuckles and you hang up and even despite everything else…you can’t help but grin.
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“Oh, my god. He does. Every time. He’s got such a weird thing with feet.”
You laugh. “It wasn’t so bad at first. But then he got a little too comfortable—”
“No, he does that. He really does.” Rebecca smirks as she throws the freshly chopped carrots into her pot. “And it started out cute, but now…”
You both glance into the living room where Harry is relaxing on the sofa. He’s smiling as he watches the two of you work on the food and even if he can’t hear you, he must know you’re talking about him.
“It’s still cute,” you argue in his defense. “Gross…but cute.”
She laughs. “Yeah, I guess he can be cute when he wants to be.”
You grin together and this feels good. You’ve missed your friend. You’ve missed having someone to laugh with, gossip with. And maybe it was strange at first, to come into their apartment and talk to your best friend about sleeping with her boyfriend.
But after a minute or two, you settled right back into the familiar rhythm of your friendship. And it almost felt…normal. 
“Has he done the thing where his left leg starts to shake when he gets overstimulated?” she asks and you nearly snort. 
“Oh, my god. Yes. The other day. I thought he was having a heart attack.”
“It’s the funniest thing. It just started, too. Couple years ago. He swears it doesn’t but like…I can see it.”
“It’s quite the tell,” you agree and you can’t help the way your eyes drift back to where he’s lounging on the sofa.
He notices and smirks at you.
“What?” you call.
He shrugs. “Nothing. You girls are cute, that’s all.”
“Bite me,” Rebecca says and he chuckles. “We’re not cute. We’re hot.”
“Absolutely,” he agrees. He leans forward. “Let me guess. You’re telling her about the leg thing?”
“Yup. And I was right,” she says smugly. “She sees it, too.”
His eyes roll but he smiles at you. “It’s not that bad—”
“No, it is,” she argues. “You look like a dog. A very cute dog, but still.”
He laughs a little louder and you’re almost jealous of their dynamic. A dynamic you’ve been witness to for almost five years. And it’s never made you jealous before.
But now…
She puts the soup on simmer and grabs your hand to lead you to the living room. “I told you we were gonna gossip about you,” she reminds him. “All good things, don’t worry.”
“I’m sure.” He smiles at you both as you take a seat on the sofa. She flops down right beside him while you cautiously sit on the other end. Exactly where you’d been that first day you agreed to this arrangement. “This is nice,” he says.
She hums. “Yeah, it feels like old times.” She glances toward you. “And it’s not weird…is it? I mean, you feel okay?”
Feeling a little hot under the spotlight, you swallow and force a quick shake of your head. “No, this is…it’s good. This is fun.”
However, she knows you better than anyone and her brows pull together as she studies you. “Do you have any questions? Or anything we can clear up?”
“Uh…I don’t know.” Truthfully, you don’t want to ask. “Is it…is it weird for you guys?”
They both shake their heads, almost as if in sync, and you resist the urge to scrunch your nose.
“Do you…have any regrets?”
“No,” she says and Harry agrees. “None. Do you?”
“No,” you echo. “No, I just…I don’t know. This still kind of feels like cheating.”
They exchange a glance and your heart skips. You’re even jealous of the way they look at each other.
“Rebecca and I have always agreed that whatever the other decides to do is their business,” Harry says. “As long as we communicate, there's freedom there. No judgment, no expectations, no regret.”
“And no jealousy,” she adds, offering you a soft smile. “Or shame. Or anything like that.”
You nod and pick at a loose string on your jeans. “And are you two…I mean do you still…”
“No,” she assures you and you’re thankful she figured out what you meant. “No, we haven’t in a few weeks.”
“Oh…because of me?”
She shakes her head while Harry says, “Not entirely. Most of it is for safety reasons. Keeping things clean and respectful. But it’s also one of our rules.”
“Rules?”
“We have a few rules we like to follow,” she explains. “It just makes it easier. Sometimes it can be tricky and this helps keep us on the same page.”
“And no sex is one of them?”
“Kind of. We don’t sleep together if one of us is seeing someone else. Well, no penetration, anyway.”
You hate the way your stomach sinks. “Oh. And…do you date other people…a lot?”
He looks over at her and she thinks. “Not…really?” she says. “I don’t think, anyway.”
“Jack was the last guy you were with, right?” Harry asks and she snaps her fingers.
“Jack. Right. Yeah. He was cute. And then yours was…Angie? I think?”
He nods. “Last year.”
“She was nice.”
“She was…sure. Yeah. She was nice.”
Rebecca laughs and he grins proudly, happy to have made her laugh. Your nose scrunches.
“She wasn’t that bad,” Rebecca argues. “She was just put in a weird position.”
“Literally and figuratively.”
She smacks his arm playfully and he pinches her thigh. You want to look away. 
“Either way,” she finally says, “we don’t very often. And I don’t think of it as cheating. Especially not with you. Because I know he’s a good partner and I know that you deserve someone as kind as he is.” 
He gives her a grateful grin before returning his attention to you. “We can stop if you want. Because I agree with Bex. I wouldn’t want to lose you as my friend and if you feel pressured or unsure—”
“I don’t,” you nearly rush to argue. “No, I don’t, I…I’m just really struggling with the dynamics of it. I guess.”
“Trust me, I get it,” she says gently. “It was a bit of a learning curve for us, too. Harry can get incredibly jealous.”
You’re tempted to tell her that you already know but you watch his reaction instead.
His eyes roll but then his stare returns to you and he winks, as though he’s recalling the same memory you are. 
It makes your skin feel warm.
“Oop, hold on. I gotta check the soup,” Rebecca suddenly exclaims before jumping off the sofa to rush back to the kitchen.
And now left alone together, your attention is drawn back to the tall, handsome man you can already feel staring at you.
“Any more questions?” he asks softly. He leans forward and places his elbows on his knees and somehow, even that makes you feel safer. 
“Just one,” you murmur and he nods. “Does this mean you and I are…dating? Or are we just fucking until I can find somebody else?”
There’s a slight edge in your voice that you hadn’t meant to be there, but he picks up on it instantly.
“Are you looking for somebody else?” he asks.
“Not really. But this whole thing started because you both felt bad for me,” you remind him. “And it’s been a lot of fun. Honestly. But you are kind of on loan. I just…I’m not sure what this makes our situation. If we’re just fucking…or more.”
He takes a moment to think about his answer, eyes flicking between yours almost as though studying you. “Would you like there to be more?”
You bite back huff. He’s very good at redirecting. “I don’t know. Would you?”
“I think more can get complicated.”
Your feel your expression fall. “Right.”
“And I don’t want to lose you from my life for good,” he continues. “You know that. Neither of us want to lose you—”
“Right, yeah. It’s fine. Forget I asked.”
He’s frowning now. “Kitten, don’t do that—”
“No, really,” you argue. “It’s fine. You’re right. Let’s just keep it like this until I can find somebody else.”
The frown turns into a glare. “Kitten—”
“Okay, soup is almost done,” Rebecca announces as she returns. This time she sits next to you and throws an arm around your shoulder. “What did I miss?”
The tension is palpable. You speak first. “I was just telling Harry that I might not need his services much longer.”
Rebecca’s eyebrows raise while Harry’s scowl deepens.
“Oh?” she asks.
You nod. “Well, seeing as we don’t want to do anything to ruin the friendship…I thought I’d give Ethan a call.”
It’s mean and perhaps a bit cruel, but you can’t help yourself. You aren’t trying to hurt him. Because he is right. And don’t want to lose him for good, either, and all this evening has truly done is prove how close he and Rebecca actually are.
You’ll never be able to compete with five years of love and affection. And maybe you don’t want to.
Maybe it’s time to move on.
“Ethan?” Harry repeats while Rebecca perks up.
“Yes,” she squeals excitedly. “Oh, I was hoping you would. He’s so nice, I think you guys would be perfect together.”
“Yeah,” you agree with a pointed look at Harry. “I think so, too.”
He knows what you’re doing. You can tell. And he’s oddly calm as he leans against the cushions and tosses his arms over the back of the couch. “And who the fuck is this Ethan?”
“Guy from my work,” you answer, equally as calm. “Nice. He’s been asking me out for a while.”
“A while.”
“Yeah, a while.”
His brows furrow. “So why do you want to go out with him now?”
“I don’t know.” You shrug. “He was never really my type before but we’ve gotten closer recently. I think it’s only fair I give him a real chance.”
“Really?” He’s curious. Maybe skeptical. “Now?”
You nod. “That way the three of us can preserve our friendship. Since that is the most important thing.”
“Well, I think it’s a great idea,” Rebecca tells you and hugs you to her side. “You’ll have to let us know how it goes.”
You grin and it’s all teeth. “I will.”
Dinner is nice. Tense but nice. You and Harry spend a majority of the meal exchanging icy glances and keeping to yourselves, leaving Rebecca to do most of the conversing.
And she doesn’t seem to notice. That or she merely pretends not to. She catches you up on some drama at work. Teases Harry about his sleep talking. Says she’s planning to visit her parents in a few weeks and then gives you the recipe for the soup.
And you and Harry nod politely, despite the unspoken rage from your ends of the table.
When dinner is finished, Harry offers to clean up and do the dishes. She kisses him on the cheek gratefully and says she’s gonna go take a quick shower since she’s got an early day tomorrow. She tells you that you’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like and then she hugs you tightly and whispers, “I’m so glad we’re still friends.”
You hug her back and agree.
The moment she’s gone, Harry sets down his sponge and turns to you. “Come here.”
You hesitate by the front door, itching to escape. But he’s firm as he watches you from the sink, eyebrow raised and jaw clenched, leaving you no choice but to listen.
“Kitten,” he repeats. Lower. Sterner. “Come. Here.”
You take a tentative step toward him. “What?”
“We need to talk.”
“Do we?”
“Kitten.”
You huff and throw your purse back down. “I really don’t think we need to—”
“I don’t care what you think. I’m telling you that we’re gonna have a chat and you’re gonna come in here like a good fucking girl and talk to me.”
This is how he gets you. This is how he pulls your strings and turns you around until you obediently join him in the kitchen. Like a good fucking girl.
Satisfied, he leans back against the counter. “Now. What’s this Ethan shit you pulled?”
“It’s not shit, it’s real,” you huff. “He really did ask me out and I really am going to say yes.”
“But you haven’t yet.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I told you. He wasn’t my type—”
“No, I want the real answer.”
You frown. “That is the real answer—”
“No,” he repeats. “It’s not. And you know it.”
You cross your arms and look down at your shoes. “Well, I don’t know what to tell you. He wasn’t my type but now he is.”
The argument lulls and the small kitchen falls silent. You hear him sigh and it almost hurts to hear how heavy his disappointment hangs.
But a moment later, he’s slipping his fingers beneath your chin and raising your eyes to his. They’re soft. Serene. Filled with everything he can’t seem to find the words to say and you hate how quickly your body begins to crave him.
“You aren’t being honest with me, baby,” he murmurs. Your lashes flutter. “You aren’t communicating with me. And I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” you say and he sighs like he knows this is a lie. “Really, I just…I know myself. If I don’t put a bit of distance between us…I don’t think I’ll ever be able to breathe on my own.”
This makes him sad and it hurts you to know you’ve made him sad. “Kitten,” he whispers. He steps closer until his chest is brushing against yours. “If I’m doing something wrong—”
“You’re not. That’s the problem.” You swallow and he brushes his thumb along your jaw. “You’re doing everything right and I’m worried I’m gonna want you in ways that I shouldn’t.”
“Do you not want to want me?”
“Not…like that,” you admit. “Not when you’re still hers.”
He frowns. “I told you, you don’t have to worry about anyone else—”
“But I do. Because at the end of the day, you’re still her Harry. You’re on loan to me until one of you decides you shouldn’t be anymore—”
“Kitten—”
“And I can’t be with you in any way but physically. You said so yourself. More would get complicated and even if you wanted to be with me…I don’t think I could share you.”
 He considers this. A long moment passes. “So you’re punishing me,” he says. “You’re going out with this Ethan guy to prove that you don’t need me.”
“What? No.” You lean back but he doesn’t let go of your chin. “I mean…okay, maybe I wanted to piss you off a little but I really do think I need to be with someone else in order to truly move on. I’m not punishing you. I’m…obeying you. If anything.”
He scoffs. “If you really wanted to obey me, you would have talked to me about what you were feeling.”
“I tried. You said more would get complicated.”
“It could. There’s always that risk. But I never said it wouldn’t be worth it.”
“So…what? You’d date me?”
“Of course.”
The answer is quick and it surprises you but it doesn’t seem to surprise him.
You blink. “You…really? You would date me? Like…officially?”
“I would.”
“And…what about Rebecca?”
“What about her?”
“You’d…you’d still be with her? Right? Even if we were together?”
He seems to know what you’re implying and sighs quietly. “Yes. I would.”
“And even if you weren’t…I’m assuming you would still want to be in an open relationship with me?”
Another pause. “Probably,” he admits, and even if you knew it was coming, you can’t help the tears that spring to your eyes. “That’s just the agreement I’ve always felt most comfortable with—”
“And that’s fine. I get it,” you assure him. You sniffle and he seems to wilt. “Really. I just…like I said, I don’t do well with sharing and if…if all we’re doing is fucking, I might as well just find somebody else, right? So that way the three of us can stay friends. And it doesn’t have to get weird.”
“I understand,” he says and you know he does. “I do, Kitten. And I would never keep you in a relationship you’re not comfortable in.” A beat. “But I can’t say that I like the idea of you going out with this guy.”
You smile. Gently. “Oh yeah? And why’s that?”
He looks down at you and takes your cheek in his hand. “You’re my girl,” he says. “No matter what. If you’re with me or not with me. You’re my fucking girl. And he doesn’t deserve even a second of your time.”
You fight a large grin and cling to his shirt. “You can’t say stuff like that.”
“Why not? It’s true.”
“Because.” You play with his buttons. “You don’t get to be jealous when you’re still with her.”
“Doesn’t mean I’m gonna like seeing you with someone else.”
You pout. “That’s not fair, Harry.”
“I know.” He brings his lips to yours. They hover—close—but never make contact. “I can’t help it. Can’t ever seem to help it when it comes to you.”
You want to push up and take his kiss, but he teases you just a little longer. “Harry—”
“Do you know that, Kitten?” His hands drop to your waist and he squeezes. Even though Rebecca is only two rooms away. Even though you can hear her humming in the bath. Even though he can never be yours. “Do you know how much I think about you?”
You swallow. Thick.
“How I think about the way you asked me to take care of you…” He ghosts his mouth down your neck. “The way you begged me to be rough….to spank you. Choke you. Degrade you.”
His voice is a sin and your eyes fall shut.
“Do you want me to degrade you, baby?” His fingers slip beneath your shirt. “Do you want me to pull you on my lap and spank you until you’re crying?”
The image in your head is somehow even better than his taunting. Your knees about buckle. “Harry…”
“You can find somebody else if you want to,” he whispers. “But do you really think they’ll be able to care of you the way I do? The way you want? The way you deserve?” 
His kisses find your chest while his knee slots between your thighs.
“I know how naughty you really are, baby girl,” he says and it’s over. “He will never know.” 
You grab his hair and he grabs your hips and you’re on the counter before you can even whisper his name. He pushes the hem of your dress up and guides your legs apart. He makes a home there, finger curling around the crotch of your panties in order to get a taste and it’s magic. Always.
And he does this to you only a few hundred feet away from where his girlfriend is innocently taking a shower. He does this, knowing she could walk out and see. He does this and you let him do this because there is no world in which you stop him.
“Harry,” you say—whimper—and he hums. His tongue licks up your cunt and your head drops back. “Har—wait—”
He doesn’t. He holds your thighs beside his cheeks and he sucks on your clit until you begin to squirm. “You promised to stay for dessert,” he says. “This is my dessert.”
The sounds are loud and beautiful and his curls feel good in your hands. You feel good in his.
Things fall to the ground. Bowls, pots, containers. He grins. He likes this, the danger. And he knows you like it, too. Because if you really wanted him to stop, he would. 
But you don’t. And you yank him closer to your pussy as though this will be the last time he ever gets a taste.
And deep down, you wonder if it is.
Either way, you enjoy his tongue and his lips and the tip of his nose that nudges your clit so expertly. You wonder how it’s possible to be so addicted to a man you’re not even with. A man that only recently started fucking you and a man that you’ve only ever considered a friend.
Part of you wants to get caught. Part of you wants things to implode. To believe that he’s doing this because he wants her to find out. Because what would happen if she saw? What would happen if he realized he wanted to end things? Would he be yours? Would he decide that your time and your heart and your pussy were infinitely more important than his sexual prowess?
You scrunch your nose. These are all the wrong questions. Harry doesn’t work like that. He never has and you can’t expect something from him that he won’t ever give you.
You return your focus to him. To the way his large hands are curling around your thighs and hoisting them up on the counter. You love his hands. You think they might be your favorite hands in the world.
They’re so gentle but strong. Practiced. You know they’d look good anywhere on your body. Your thighs, your chest, your throat…
You whimper at the thought and he glances up. He’s proud again. Drenched in your arousal and the evidence of your lust for him.
He moves his mouth to the inside of your leg and nips. He leaves marks and memories along the soft skin and you can’t wait to stare at them whenever he’s not around. The way he makes you his in the only way he can.
And you’re so close. You aren’t even sure how he got you here so quickly but he always seems to. And you don’t mind. Instead, you fist his hair and you buck against his tongue and he’s going to make you cum all over his girlfriend’s kitchen counter.
And then he stops.
He stops, he lets you go, and he pulls away.
Your heart drops to your toes as the orgasm fizzles down to nothing. “What…what are you—"
“Get down,” he says curtly. He slaps your outer thigh. “We’re leaving.”
He doesn’t tell you where you’re going. And you don’t ask. Instead, you watch as he wipes his mouth and disappears from the kitchen to wait by the front door.
After straightening your dress and readjusting your underwear, you scurry to his side with a fretful glance toward the bathroom. “Shouldn’t you tell her you’re going?”
He smiles. “She’ll figure it out.”
With that, you leave their apartment so he can take you back to your place and he keeps his hand on your thigh the whole drive. You wonder if he merely wants to keep some sort of claim on you or if it’s habit. 
Either way, his thumb rubs circles into your skin, right over the dark spots made by his lips and you smile. You want to lace your fingers with his. Want to hold his hand and pretend like the two of you are on your way home from a date. To pretend like this is normal—an everyday occurrence.
But you lose your nerve and soon, he’s pulling into the parking lot.  
“I want you upstairs,” he says and gives you a pointed look. “On the bed. Naked. And waiting for me by the time I come up.”
You nod quickly. “Okay. Are…am I in trouble—”
“That depends on if you obey.” He unlocks the door. “So let’s hope you do.”
Swallowing a giddy grin, you scurry from the vehicle and into your building. You don’t bother with tidying up or adjusting your appearance. You run straight into your bedroom, rip off your clothes, and spread out into a starfish position on the bed.
You hear him follow not much later. Slow, deliberate steps. Meant to taunt you, tease you. Make your stomach flip. And it works.
When you see his tall, muscular figure in the doorway, your pulse skips.
Smiling, you call, “Hi, Sir—”
“No speaking,” he says shortly. “Unless I say otherwise. Is that understood?”
“Yes—no—sorry, I’m…” You stop. Nod. 
He frowns but you know it’s only to hide a smirk. “Don’t test me, Kitten. You’ve already done that enough this evening, have you not?”
Another nod.
“And you knew better, didn’t you?” He walks into the room and begins to unzip his jeans. “Knew better than to dangle fucking Ethan in my face.”
You nod again but your eyes are trained on his hands. On the fingers that pull the hem of his shirt up and over his head.
“And you fucking knew…that if I got a taste of such a sweet pussy…I’d never stop,” he murmurs. He crawls onto the bed, wearing nothing more than his briefs. “That I’d forgive you. And let you off the hook.”
You don’t nod this time. You can’t. You’re too far gone in the lust in his eyes. The gentle green that’s now dangerous and luring you in.
“Well,” he whispers and then he smiles. “You thought wrong.”
He grabs your thighs and flips you over. Before you know it, you’re on your stomach, head spinning, while a large palm comes down in a sharp smack to your ass.
You jolt. Shriek. 
“Easy,” he says and he’s kinder now. “You’re gonna take your punishment like a good little whore, aren’t you?”
Now you understand. You see. And you settle onto the bed as he smooths the stinging print with the soft of his hand. 
You nod.
“Good.” He spanks you again. “I think we should do one for every time you lied to me. For every time I asked for the truth…and you refused to give it to me.”
Your lashes flutter. You suppose that’s only fair, although in your defense, the truth would have only hurt him.
“Let’s see…we’ll start with five,” he says and you exhale a sigh of relief. “Because I know you don’t mean to be a bad girl, do you?”
You whimper.
“You want to be good. Want to behave for me.” He spanks you. Number three. “You want a lot of things from me, don’t you? And maybe I’m bad, too. For not being able to give them to you.”
The air in the room shifts and you attempt to glance back.
However, he lays another firm smack to your ass before you can and then squeezes your hip. “Come on, you’re almost done,” he coos. A beat passes. “Do you remember me mentioning the traffic light system?”
You nod.
“Red for stop, yellow for pause, green for good, keep going?”
Nod.
“Good. Then I want you to use your words and tell me what color you are right now. Honestly.”
“Green,” you whisper, then clear your throat and speak louder. “I’m green. Honestly.”
He hums. “And you’re gonna take your last strike, yes?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“And you’re gonna thank me for being so generous to such a selfish fucking whore?”
Your cheeks flush. Oh, he’s very good. “Yes, Sir.”
You still can’t see him but you can imagine his grin.
The last spank of his hand lands against your tender skin and somehow…it feels good. There’s something delicious about his pain. About the way he inflicts it. The way your body responds to it.
You groan—moan—and finally manage, “Thank you, Sir.”
He purrs something devious as he strokes the spot and begins to kiss his way up your spine. “Good fucking girl,” he breathes. The exhale of his praise dances across your back and you shiver. “Took your punishment so well. Wasn’t so bad, was it? Bet you even fucking liked, dirty thing. Didn’t you?”
You nod again and feel his knee begin to nudge its way back between your thighs. 
“Let’s check, shall we?” His fingers move now for the mess you already know is there. And when he feels it, he curses. “Fucking shit, Kitten, you’re soaked.”
You are. You are soaked and you’re making a mess of your duvet and his knee and he still hasn’t let you cum yet and you think you might die if he waits any longer. 
“Harry,” you nearly cry. “Please…please…”
He brings his kisses to the back of your neck. To the place below your ear that makes your stomach flip. He kisses. Sucks. Nips and violates the skin with his teeth.
“Okay,” he agrees. “Okay, but only because I know you need it.”
You nod again and begin to turn over. He goes to stop you—he wants to try from behind—but you insist.
“I want to see your face,” you say. “Please, I just…I need that tonight.”
The softness in his eyes and the fall of his expression almost hurts you. You don’t want to cause him pain or confusion. Ever.
But he’s not confused. He understands. And he agrees because maybe he needs it, too.
You pull him out of his briefs and he hikes your leg around his hip. Until the heel of your foot is digging into his ass and pulling him forward.
When he first pushes in, you both take a moment of silence to appreciate the beauty of your bodies connecting.
Harry was once your best friend and now he’s something else entirely. A completely different entity and you never imagined you’d see his cock disappearing into your cunt but now you don’t want to imagine his cock anywhere else.
When he’s about halfway in, he pulls back out and begins a steady pace. He’s large and he knows you need a moment or two to find the pleasure before he picks up a faster rhythm. So, he puts the focus on you. On your clit, on your thighs, on the way his lips feel against yours.
He kisses you—soft, sweet. Gentle. And then he kisses your neck. Your chest. Plays with your tits and whispers about how good they feel in his hand.
Then, he buries himself to the hilt as his hips find yours.
You arch and he catches you. There are more kisses, more soft murmurings. And there’s an intimacy here that doesn’t feel like sex. It feels like making love, a term you once scoffed at but now indulge in. Because maybe he does love you, in the only way he knows how. Maybe he does choose your body over hers. Maybe this was the best thing that ever could have happened to you. 
You grab his hand and bring it to your throat. Pointed enough that he knows what you want and after a quick glance for consent…he squeezes.
Your lashes flutter and you press on his knuckles. Harder. He obeys.
And you were right. His hand does look good on your body. A necklace to wear proudly and he whispers your name before tightening his grip and allowing the sides of your sanity to go fuzzy before loosening his fingers. 
You breathe. Deep. The air tastes like him and you love it.
He smiles. “You okay?”
“More than okay. That was…shit, I really like that.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Probably cause you’re doing it.”
He uses this hold to kiss you and it’s a mess of tongues and spit and loud sucking. It makes you giggle.
“You’re making this very hard for me,” he suddenly whispers.
“Well, I prefer you hard.”
He smirks, but this is not what he means. “I want this to work.”
“I know. I do, too.”
He surges forward—a sharp thrust. “It can’t work if Ethan’s in the picture.”
Oh. “Why? Because you need room for Rebecca?”
He sighs and you hate how sad it sounds. “I know I’m not being fair—”
“You’re not.”
“I can’t help it—”
“Well, neither can I.”
He stops for a moment and looks at you. “You have every right to go out with him. I know that. But I think I’ll lose my fucking mind if you do.” He continues to roll his body against yours and you want to purr. “So I want to make a deal.”
“Okay…”
“If you go out with Ethan, you go out with me,” he says. “If you date him, you date me. And I’ll play nice. I’ll share. But only until you realize he’s a waste of time.
You run your fingers along his shoulders. Along his back. Along the curve of his ass. You think about his proposition. It sounds good, it does. A way to keep him while also keeping your options open. 
Because maybe this way, it won’t hurt so much when he still goes home to her.
“Can I think about it?” you ask. 
He kisses you. “Of course. Always.”
You resume the languid but fervent pace he previously set. He squeezes your neck whenever he wants to hear you whimper and you scratch your nails down his spine whenever you want him to groan.
And it’s perfect. Truly. Because while you’re on this date with Ethan, he’ll be able to see the marks Harry left on your throat.
And when Harry goes back to Rebecca, she’ll see the scratches down his back made by your hands.
You can’t help but feel satisfied with the idea and it brings you that much closer as Harry presses your hips to the bed and begins to fuck into you harder.
He readjusts his stance above you, knees deep into the mattress and hands clutching the sheets beside your waist. And every thrust is purposeful. Hard. Beautiful. The sounds are symphonic and when you look down to see, you nearly mewl. The way his cock is absolutely fucking covered in you, slipping in and out of your cunt with ease and determination. 
He’s beautiful when he’s focused. When he’s about to cum. You just want to kiss him and hold him and love him and be his.
And you fucking hate it.
“Need you to cum, baby,” he whispers and you nod in agreement. “Can you do that?”
“Yes….yes, Sir,” you stammer, already feeling the overwhelming power creep up your thighs. “I’m…I—”
“I know. I know, come on—”
You do. Just like that. Unravel like a spool of thread and dissolve into nothing but pleasure beneath him.
But you don’t feel him follow. In fact, he continues fucking you through your high until he suddenly pulls out and comes all over your swollen pussy.
It’s the most mesmerizing thing you think you’ve ever seen. The sticky substance paints your cunt in masterful strokes. Glistening from your body, your clit, your thighs like stars.
And you want to be disappointed that he didn’t finish inside but soon you understand why.
He takes your hand. Moves it closer and presses your fingers into the mess. 
“Touch it,” he whispers. “Fuck it back in.”
Your eyes widen. He smiles but the look in his eye is mischievous and deranged.
“Go on, Kitten,” he says. “I wanna watch.”
Your arms are shaking. In fact, every part of you is still shaking from your orgasm but you obey. You slowly—very slowly—begin to circle your touch around your clit. Feeling the way it nearly throbs as you stimulate it. As you force it into more pleasure.
Harry’s attention is glued to the show before him as he swallows thickly and you swear you can almost see his heart beating against his chest like a cartoon.
You move down. Collect as many drops of him as you can and slowly begin to ease two fingers into your fluttering hole.
When you reach the knuckle, you gasp and he exhales. 
It’s perfect.
He scoots back until he can lay on his stomach and place his cheek against your thigh. Close. Close enough that you can feel his breath fan across your hand.
And he watches. Happy. A lazy smile on those beautiful, pink lips. Lashes fluttering every time you whimper or whine.
“I…I can’t,” you whisper. The sensations are too strong. You’ve already cum once, you can’t possibly cum again so soon.
He hums. “Yes, you can. Let me see, baby. Let me watch.”
And you almost want to be embarrassed but something else seems to take over your mind entirely and you can’t help but go faster.
You pinch and curl and flex. You push his offering as far into you as you can reach and then you push in a little more. And it’s easier this time, even if it almost hurts. But you cum. You do, right in front of his very eyes until he’s quickly grabbing hold of you as though he’s desperate to be closer.
You’re more than a puddle this time. You’re practically limp but you’re also so incredibly happy. And he smiles brightly as he pulls your fingers away and puts them in his mouth.
You don’t even have the energy to make a noise this time. You merely watch him—content—until he starts kissing down your palm, along your arm, and to your chest.
Then, he pulls you into his embrace and you both indulge in a moment of peace. 
You’re both quiet for a while. Even after your heartbeat has steadied. Even after the sweat on your skin has dried and the room no longer feels so warm. 
You run your fingers down his torso. Along the dips and curves of his muscles that seem more defined every time you see him. 
“You’re insufferable,” you finally say and he laughs. The sound bounces between the walls of your room—joyous and unencumbered—and it makes you giddy. He doesn’t laugh like this for her. “What? You are.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. I know.”
Another beat. Longer.
Then, you whisper, “Okay.”
He looks down. “Okay?”
“I’ll agree to your deal.”
“Really?” He’s grinning again. Big.
“Mhm. As long as I get to keep you in some way…maybe it’ll be worth it.”
He seems to sadden at the use of the word maybe, but he brushes it off before you can comment on it. Instead, he pulls you closer and kisses you hard. Forever. 
And maybe…this won’t be so bad.
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~ Insatiable You* (Pt. 2)
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~ Main Masterlist
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after the events of season 4, steve just wanting SO BADLY to be friends with eddie. just LOVING the idea of them getting closer and having eddie as a friend because hell yeah! a close male friendship with someone that is actually my age, and who i don’t have a weird history with involving bruised eyes and love triangles? count me IN! and eddie is FUN, he is actually hilarious! the way they share the same glances of understanding when dustin is being an absolute shit head, rambling on and on about some obscure topic, expecting everyone to always be on the exact same page as him. of course. and, although steve suspects that eddie actually probably is keeping up with everything dustin says, much better than he ever could, he knows that above it all eddie can appreciate the antics for what they are, and roll his eyes with steve at dustin, i concur, you dustin henderson, are a total butthead.
steve just about junps RIGHT IN to being friends with eddie. hey man, what’cha up to tonight? wanna watch a movie? get drunk, smoke a bit? hey eddie, how have you been, man? he starts calling eddie up on the phone regularly just to check in, shoot the shit, he loves it! he loves having this new friendship with eddie munson and he loves how much the other boy has surprised him with how much he actually enjoys being around him. he’s not a freak, really, well ok maybe he is a little bit, but only in the best ways. he’s kind, thoughtful, and is always looking out for the people he cares about, which is something steve can really respect in a dude. but he’s also so funny? steve never could’ve anticipated just how much eddie has managed to make him genuinely LAUGH over their short amount of time spent together. and he’s really, out there? with the way he presents himself, the way he takes up space with these big THEATRICAL movements, leaving no room for regret or shame or god forbid embarrassment. steve isn’t even sure munson is capable of feeling it at all.
eddie munson is a good dude, and steve could use a bit more of that kind of person around him. he loves all of his friends, the weird little bonded family he’s found himself apart of, and they are all good people, but it never hurts to have afew more added in here and there. it never hurts to know there are more good people out there to find.
so steve is all over eddie, it seems.
at least, from where eddie is standing. nobody else seems as phased as eddie does at this sudden change in steve’s demeanour, in his interest in what eddie munson spends his time doing these days. it seems like, to everyone else, to steve, it’s just a natural progression in their relationship, after being sort of role model figures to the same group of kids, both being the two single dudes, who fought the same monsters together last spring, it seems nobody questions too much that they’d start casually hanging around eachother more. especially since eddie has found himself to fit into his own special spot as one of the group now after it all, after he unwillingly became tangled in this whole upsidedown-superpowers-supernatural-monsters and demons debacle, and tangled quite dramatically at that, the rest of the group that’s been with this since the beginning seemed to find no trouble in taking him in and seeing him as “one of them” now.
so, steve asking eddie to smoke, to watch movies, to go for a drive with no real end destination, it’s not really something that earns them too many double takes. dustin makes a comment or two in the beginning, because steve since when did you like hanging out with eddie? you guys are like so opposite, you don’t like any of the same stuff he does? and steve barely gives a shrug and a dismissive yeah yeah whatever man in response, with a signature eye roll, and dustin had said it seemingly also not too seriously, poking fun at steve wherever he can, not really meaning anything by it, as he fidgets around and rambles in the backseat of steve’s car, eddie riding up front. after that, though, he’s dropped it. it’s never brought up again. part of eddie thinks, too, that dustin would actually be enjoying that his two older friends are becoming friends themselves.
robin seems to be the only other person to look a bit harder at their situation, lingering stares at their interactions, all squinted eyes and eyebrows raised, though from her all this seems to be almost always and only ever directed at steve. eddie’s not sure what to make of that. isn’t he the weird one? i mean, he’s the one that stands out, right? he’s the odd denominator that makes their friendship strange. why would steve harrington want to hang out with Him? HIM? but robin doesn’t spend her time studying eddie to try and search for what about him could possibly have piqued the interest of cherished steven harrington, no, shes always looking at steve. like she’s seeing him differently, almost. eddie doesn’t even think that steve notices it, either, because he doesn’t seem to be questioning or doubting anything odd or strange or out of the ordinary with their newfound time spent together. and maybe, maybe robin is seeing him differently. eddie knows he definitely has been. seeing him more, intensely. deeply. human. seeing the person that steve is, as just steve, not this idealised version of a boy that eddies starting to question ever really even existed at all, or if everyone around him just needed to believe that he did, and who was steve if not happy to comply to the wants of the people around him for who he should be?
eddie likes having steve as his friend, too. don’t get it twisted. he loves how unexpectedly expressive steve is about everything, even really small things. steve LOVES to raise his voice, rest a hand on his popped hip, scolding the kids for something stupid with no real heat or malice behind it. and steve is, like, kinda bitchy too. eddie knew he had the capacity to be a real asshole when he wanted to be, that’s all he knew steve for back in the day, when he was back in high school, hanging around tommy h and the basketball boys, the jocks. eddie would spend his days hearing only whispers and gossip in the hallways of the parties at king steve’s house and the fights king steve had started and won on the court or out in the fields, only ever getting as close as a shove into a locker with the guy at the time, but eddie knew how it could go. he knew all about what steve had done to jonathan, what he’d said to him, the words he’d used. eddie knew it all. he’d seen enough, and been through enough himself, to know how these guys acted in response to guys like him, like jonathan, people who were lower on the social food chain. so, eddie knew about steve’s “mean streak”, if you will, but this kind of snarky bitchiness was something new to him. harrington was almost, sassy, when he wanted to be. it was less so cruel and more just, just sass. if he’s being completely honest it kind of blew eddie away, at first. he thought steve was one of those dull headed jocks who thought with their fists more than their actual brains, but that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. steve’s insults were well thought out, they were FUNNY, he was smart with his words. and silly. oh my god steve harrington could be so fucking silly, real honest to god goofball when the moment called for it, when he felt comfortable enough. eddie had caught on multiple occasions steve mimicking lightsabers to play fight with dustin, or the stupid fucking shit he would do or say just to make robin laugh, singing along to a song playing on the radio with a funny voice.
it was all a little, intoxicating, to watch. eddie didn’t know what gave him the right to be in on this now, to get to see this side of steve and better yet to be at the other end of some of his best qualities. it was fun, all the time they spent together, but there was always something else tugging inside eddie everytime they spent close time together, too. something, he knew steve wasn’t aware of. something he knew steve wasn’t equipped to deal with. something he knew, was him. was him, making things something more than they should be, because, nobody seemed to be questioning that they could become friends, so why ruin that? why disrupt it?
- robin and steve
“Steve.”
“-but then like, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to watch it I just thought, hey, y’know, let’s try something different for a change, but then he- oh my god he honest to god TACKLED ME Robin — I mean, it was so fucking funny and it happened so quick — and all over a fucking Tom Cruise movie-“
“STEVE.” Robin lightly slammed a hand onto the counter. She had been standing behind it for no short of 20 minutes, watching Steve as he paced around, supposed to be stacking tapes onto shelves, but ended up spending the whole time going on and on, and ON, about how movie night went with Eddie last night. She thought she was bad…
Steve jumped, almost running into a shelf and knocking down his hard work, and seemed to snap out of whatever trance he had found himself in after starting to tell Robin a story about something funny Eddie had done last night.
“Shit, sorry. Sorry, what were you saying? Were you- were you saying something?”
To this, Robin just rolls her eyes and let’s out a laugh, “You, sir, are goddamn hopeless.”
“Sorry. How long was I talking for?” Steve wandered his way over to lean his arms onto the counter from the opposite side.
“Oh, I dunno Steve, just about half an HOUR?”
“That is an over exaggeration Robin, it’s only been like-“
“Honestly, man, i’m concerned for you. You are like next level OBSESSED with Eddie. Eddie Munson. You do realise this right??? You are obsessed with him, Steve.”
To this Steve sputters, lazily waving his hands back and forth.
“No, Robin, what the hell are you talking about? I am not OBSESSED. No need to be jealous, alright, Stevie-Boy here can have more than one friend. Your spot in my heart isn’t any less special now that it’s beginning to be shared by another.” He bats his eyelashes up at her, holding both hands over his chest as if to cradle his heart.
“Oh my GOD! You even SOUND LIKE HIM!”, she playfully slaps his shoulder. “Steve. You are obsessed.”
“I am not obsessed! He’s just a really great guy, alright-“
“Blah blah, yep whatever you say, lover boy.” Robin quips, plopping down onto the chair chair infront of their staff computer, turning herself to face it.
“Wha- what? Lover boy? What the hell Robin, that is not- that doesn’t even make any sense!”
She is just smiling at him now, enjoying seeing him spiral like this. Steve let’s out a sigh as he puts his hands on his hips, and shakes his head, looking at her right back.
He opens and closes his mouth afew times, like he’s really thinking about what he wants to say next. Or like he has no idea what to say next, and his brain is not moving fast enough to formulate the next sentence his mouth knows he wants to say. He wasn’t obsessed. That’s not- that’s like- no. No he was not, Robin was just playing around with him, she knew how to get on his nerves. Get him all wound up over little things just to see him react like this.
After a minute or two, Robin realises Steve was not going to reply anytime soon, so she turns fully back toward him. Saving him from his spiral.
“So, what are you’re plans for tonight Steve-O?”
He lets out a chuckle and walks around the counter till he’s behind it with Robin, leaning his back against it so he can stand across from her and face her.
“Well, not really sure. Parents aren’t home, no early shift tomorrow, might drink afew beers, listen to some music, —“
“See what Eddie’s doin?” Robin finishes for him, quirking her eyebrows up and down as she does it.
“Oh shut up!” Steve just laughs and softly throws a tape from the counter at her chest. “As a matter of fact, yeah I will see what he’s up to. Because we are friends now, Robin. Is that a problem? Actually I was also gonna ask you what you were up to after work, too, but you know what after this I’m having second thoughts, I mean, the way you’ve been treating me lately-“
“Oh my god, you are the worst. Yes, I’m free, of course I’ll hang out with you dingus. You and your tweedle dee.”
Steve laughs at this, then tilts his head.
“Wait, does that make me dumb? Tweedle dumb?! That’s how you see me?”
“Yeah it is actually, got a problem?”
“Oh wow, she’s feisty today. Can’t believe you think I’m dumb, Rob’s. When you come knockin’ tonight, do not expect a warm greeting at my front door.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll take my chances.”
- later. steve’s house. to be continued?
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callsign-datura · 29 days
Text
quit talking.
frustrated simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader warnings: smut, obviously. mentions of putting a muzzle on you, not dealing with feelings, unprotected sex, bro is def a tits man (he sucks on em), oral sex (f recieving), light choking, creampieee a/n: 1k? how the hell?? thank you! :)
If there's one thing you know how to do, it's piss Ghost off. It's not really fun to you, it's more of a competitive thing. He's been in this line of work for much longer than you have, but you've been in it for long enough that you should be treated like a valuable ally than an untrained soldier, or a rookie. But for Ghost, that nickname has stuck. "C'mon, rookie, get your head straight."
"Eyes up here, rookie."
"Are you listenin', rookie?"
Your blood boils every time the word slips from his mouth. Every time he does it, you keep yourself from snapping at him. You put a smile on and follow his directions.
But sometimes it isn't so easy.
He orders you around, and tells you what to do; like a lieutenant should. Yet for some reason, you feel your chest tighten when he gives you an order. You know damn well it's a personal issue. Probably some feelings you haven't dealt with yet that you aren't ready to deal with. But you butt heads. You can tell that your defiance pisses him off and the flicker in his eyes makes something in your heart surge; something you tell yourself is satisfaction. Recently, it's been worse... maybe it was the mission last month where you were stuck in a closet together and he couldn't keep his hands to himself, or the fact he acted like it didn't even happen after. Probably both.
---------------------- "Rookie."
That damn nickname again. You snap quickly, against your better judgment; but he can't blame you. It's been a hard day of biting your tongue. "How long have I been on this team, sir?" "Not long enough to be givin' me so much attitude." He snaps back just as quickly, and usually it'd be enough to extinguish that fire, but today, it's not.
"It's been two years." "Two years of you talking' like you've known us for ten. Sorry to burst your bubble," he barks, turning his body to you as you recognize that look in his eye that you shouldn't be messing with him today. "You haven't. I'll keep callin' you 'rookie' until you get that in your head." His arms hang at his sides, his fists idly clenching and releasing as he steps towards you. "You got a problem with that?" Your eyebrows knit together and you tilted your head back as he gets close, his upper body curling to lean over yours and stare you down. Cold, brown eyes staring into yours; something that would normally give you chills. But not today. "Yes, actually, I do. I'm not a rookie anymore, I've been working with you long enough to the point I should have earned the respect I deserve." The words are slipping out. You realize how stupid it sounds and how you should have just been quiet and stopped fighting, but it feels good to get it off your chest. So you keep talking. "I'm a valuable asset to the team. I'm a good medic, a good ground unit, I'm damn good with a knife and I have good survival skills. I think those are grounds for respect from my lieutenant. Everyone else treats me well, but you." He rolls his eyes so strongly that you think it probably hurts. "You wanna know why they treat you well, rookie?" He retorts, his voice low and husky and raspy. His face is inches from yours and your senses are flooded with him; it's almost enough to get you to forget about why you were fighting in the first place. "It's 'cause everyone else knows that bein' nice to you and lettin' you act like a proper twat is better than tryin' to discipline you. You act like a child and they let you because you're too damn stubborn to get through to." The words piss you off again, and you open your mouth to respond, yet nothing comes out. "Don't." He warns. "This is ridiculous."
"Ridiculous? I just want to be respected." "Nobody gives you shit anymore, rookie, but me. It sounds like you're mad that I'm the only person who gives you shit and doesn't let you get off easy."
"Because it's bullshit-" "I only give you shit when you're actin' like this." The glimmer in his eyes changes, and it becomes something you can't entirely put your finger on. "I only give you shit when you're yowlin' about 'not being respected' when you know damn well you are, you're just angry that I'm mean to you." "'Cause you are!"
"I am because I know that's the only way you listen." He says, his voice returning to something stable. "It's like you hate me."
Oh. His eyes flare again, this time with recognition. "That's what this is about? You think I hate you?"
"Well, sometimes..." Your voice lowers and you avoid eye contact with him, trying to focus on anything but the monster of a man in your proximity. "Sometimes it feels like it."
"Really? And that's why you're constantly puttin' up such a fight with me? 'Cause you think I hate you?" His voice turns... amused. Jesus Christ, he's enjoying this. "Yes, and--" You try to retort, but you can't think of anything. Your mind blanks. "And..." Embarrassment burns hot on your cheeks and you shut your eyes. He chuckles quietly. "That's fucked, sweetheart. You're not gonna believe me, even if I talk till I'm blue,"
"As if I could see." You snap, looking away. "...N' even if I talk, you'll interrupt me." He chuckles again. His voice tenses a little as if he's irritated. He grabs your hand and starts leading you somewhere and you start talking again. "I don't know where you get off on being rude like that." He laughs, in disbelief. "I could ask you the same thing." "You haven't said anything to me about that mission," you begin. Your voice is shaky. These are untrod waters, but you want an answer. "Not a damn thing. Not a text, hell, you barely look me in the eyes." "Mm." He responds, his voice higher-pitched, once again with recognition. "So it's that, too." He glances back at you, and you barely even realize where he's leading you until he pushes open the door to his quarters and pushes you inside, stepping in too, and shutting the door behind him. "You're mad about that? That we haven't talked about that?" You open your mouth, but the surprise doesn't let you say anything. So you nod, looking around the room. It's bland. Very... Ghost. "I haven't said anythin' to you about it 'cause even thinkin' about it makes it difficult for me to see you in a professional light." He pauses. "It shouldn't have happened. If anyone finds out, it'd be me taking advantage of you,"
"That wasn't what happened, though. I was asking you--" "Quit." He snaps, his hand coming up to cup your chin and hold your jaw, urging you to stay quiet. "Quit interruptin' me, fuck. You talk a lot, you know that?" His other hand goes to the zipper of your jacket, pulling at it and unzipping it. Your eyes flicker down to watch his hand, and you stay quiet.
He chuckles again and shakes his head, his eyes wide with disbelief and amusement... some mix of the two. "Now you're quiet. When you're gettin' what you want. Dunno what I expected." He lets go of your jaw and pulls your jacket off, tossing it to the side and turning both of you, backing you up against the door.
"I don't hate you... Quite the opposite." He murmurs, his voice softening. You watch as his thumb hooks into the bottom of his mask, pulling it over his nose as he leans in and puts his other hand on your waist. He goes for your neck, and you tilt your head instinctively. More than happy to obey. "It's jus' the fact that this is entirely unethical. No matter how we put it... it's unethical." He kisses the flesh of your neck, lips dancing along the softness there, testing for any sweet spots. He nips when he feels you tremble. "...Now that isn't to say I didn't enjoy it... 'cause I did. I dream about it, pet," his voice shakes and his grip on you tightens. "Fuckin' dream about it."
The vulnerability at this moment makes your body heat up. Warmth is building in your lower stomach, and a soft noise leaves your lips as you tilt your head back against the door. Your back arches as his breath ghosts your neck.
"Dream about you... n' this body, n' your voice, and your whimpers. I look at you, and I remember." He starts kissing your neck again. They're rough, and his breath is hot. You tremble again as his lips travel down, stopping at your collar as he reaches and slips the strap of your undershirt off your shoulder, and kisses the span of flesh that's been uncovered. Tongue darting out, following the contour of your collarbone, teasingly; leaving tingles in its wake that send heat straight to your cunt. "Makes it so goddamn hard to treat you like you're my teammate and not a person who haunts my dreams."
Another noise leaves your lips, and his hands slide up your sides, bringing the fabric of your undershirt with it. You lift your arms to let him, and you lock eyes for a moment. His are sparkling with lust, and he chuckles before his hands travel up your back to unclasp your bra. He pulls it from your body and drops it to the side, and his lips are on your flesh again. He nips at certain spots, nibbling gently and sucking deep marks into the flesh. His kisses go from your collarbone to your breast, and his lips close around your nipple. Your body tenses and goosebumps prickle over the flesh of your chest, and you tilt your head back again, legs pressing together as his hands rub up and down your sides soothingly. His tongue laves over it, sending tingles of pleasure through you as your eyes flutter shut and he grunts against you. His teeth nip at it gently before he releases it, switching sides. His hands slip down your sides and move to your pants, undoing the button of your jeans and tugging them and your panties down around your legs, detaching from your nipple to do so.
His gaze is immediately dragged to your cunt, and he hums low in his throat before he looks up at you. "C'mon, dove. Give me a taste, mm?" He asks, teasingly; but meaning the question entirely. Your expression twists in embarrassment, but your desire for him overrides any hesitation. And you nod. One of his hands cups the underside of your leg, lifting it up and to the side as he litters kisses along the inside of it. Having him so close to you makes your entire body shudder and a moan leaves your lips, your hand coming down to cup his head as you watch him. It's a lewd sight, but the view makes you tingle. He bites down lightly and a whine leaves your lips as you lightly swat his head. He chuckles in response and looks up at you, pulling away from your thigh to litter kisses over your cunt. You're wet enough to the point he can fucking see it; and your face flushes a bit more in embarrassment and you tilt your head back. You shudder, tilting your hips forward and chasing a bit more friction... and he delivers. His tongue darts out, dragging up between your labia to catch your clit. Your body shudders and you give a sharp whine. The feeling is electric, and you already feel something building in your stomach, yet you try to suppress it in turn for just feeling the sensation. His other hand comes up and his thumb pulls at the flesh, lightly spreading you out for his convenience, his lips closing around your clit as he grunts and the vibration of it turns into straight heat and makes you twitch. He sucks gently and you mewl, your hips shifting away from the unfamiliar sensation, forcing him to detach before he pulls you back in and clicks his tongue.
"Come on now, pet. You wanted this, didn't you? Stay still." You whine in affirmation, looking down once again and gasping as he buries his face into you once more. He dips his tongue into you, and his eyes roll briefly as he grunts at the taste of you; something that he'd get addicted to easily. Hell, he's already addicted to you; why not? He pushes his tongue into you for a moment, groaning again. His grip on the underside of your thigh tightens and he brings it upward a bit more, resting it over his shoulder as his hand slips up your tummy, giving the pudge there a little squeeze before he switches his attention to your clit, lapping his tongue over it slowly and gently. Each swipe sends heat into you, your walls clamping around on nothing, moans leaving your lips as he keeps his head buried into you. The sensations are mounting and he laps his tongue a bit faster to elicit more reactions from you.
Your hips buck into the sensation and a squeal leaves your lips. His hand slips back to cup your hip, pulling you further into him as he laps at your clit again and again. The hand keeping your labia spread shifts downward, and you jolt as he presses his middle and pointer finger against your hole, circling the flesh to gather your slick. The movement of his tongue stalls for a moment until he pushes his fingers into you, and he laps again, but much faster this time, grunting out in satisfaction at the way your walls flutter around his fingers and suck them in more. Moans leave your lips and your body tenses up, a cry leaving the moan before you shift down a little to push into his fingers. He curls them, feeling along your inner walls slowly and gently to find that spot that'll make you quiver, and he does; your hips buck again and you cry once more, the pleasure overloading your senses and rendering you to a whimpering mess. He laps away at your clit again, eating like a man starved; curling those two fingers on your g-spot and rubbing his fingertips against it slowly, gently.
The sensation causes the cord in your tummy to tighten. It doesn't take more of his assault to throw you over the edge; he continues, with an increased fervor upon feeling you tense around his fingers and hearing your noises take on a desperate edge. He pulls you closer, grunting into your pussy as you cry out and ball your hands into fists, grinding a little into the friction as your vision goes white and you sob his name. You continue, riding out your orgasm and whimpering his name quietly. His movements stop after your noises quiet, and he withdraws his fingers and pulls back to look up at you, making sure you're looking at him before he pulls his fingers apart; showing you the string of your fluid that connects them between breaking. He chuckles a bit and stands up as he looks you over. Your eyes flutter shut and you whimper softly, tilting your head back. Your body relaxes, but not for long as you hear a zipper being undone. Your eyes open just as he turns you around and pins you against the wall. One hand against the wall between your waist and your arm, his lips on the back of your shoulder as his other hand comes to your waist, pulling back you back against him. You give a surprised noise and he chuckles. "What? D'you think we were done?" You don't respond, and he hums. "Good. 'Cause we aren't." He pushes against you as you arch your back, your eyes widening as you feel his cock pressing against your cunt; a whine leaving your lips before he pulls his hand from your hip to wrap around the base of him, adjusting himself to rest the tip of his cock against your hole, watching as you flutter around him. He chuckles softly at the sight, and puts his hand on your lower stomach, slowly guiding his hips forward. His cock slips into you with ease, and you feel a faint stinging pain from the stretch, but the full feeling his cock gives you distracts you from the pain. It's familiar, almost; like your body remembers how he fit inside you. Your slick coats his cock, making the fit a bit more easy. He groans softly into your ear, the feeling of you around him more than heavenly. "Fuck. S'fuckin tight. Mm... like you were made for me, hm?"
He grunts quietly as he feels you pulse around him, and he tilts his hips slightly, cupping your lower tummy as he grinds into you testingly. A whine leaves your lips, but you don't stop him. The pleasure is overwhelming, and you feel some sort of sense of relief at finally being filled; by him. His breath fans over your shoulder as he grinds into you slowly, rolling his hips into yours; pulling out a bit before pushing forward and rubbing his hips into yours. He continues like this, one hand sliding up your front and wrapping around your throat, a gentle hold that keeps your head still. Your eyes keep shut, eager moans leaving your lips as you push back into him. For a few moments he continues this movement, just reveling in the feeling of your cunt around him before he begins thrusting. Slowly, at the same pace, raking his cock in and out of you, sending shocks of pleasure through you as you tighten a bit around him, eliciting groans from him. His movements speed up and the hand on your lower stomach slips downward, his middle and ring finger rubbing circles over your clit. You lurch a little and give a little cry, still feeling a bit overstimulated from the previous activities.
That sensation leaves almost immediately as he thrusts into you quickly, the sounds of your bodies together filling the room amongst his groans and your squeals. You lift one of your legs, tilting your head against the wall and his grip on your throat tightens as he starts rutting into you; the feeling of you is getting to him as much as the feeling of him is getting to you. Your moans increase in pitch, and your mind is scrambled by the pleasure. Your walls quiver as he continues, bullying into your cunt. He's chasing his high, and the circles he draws on your clit also increase in pace. The cord in your stomach draws taut, signalling your incoming orgasm; you can tell by his pace that he's close too. "Fuck-- Gonna cum." He warns into your shoulder, yet his pace doesn't falter.
You whimper and your chest tightens at the thought of him pulling out; wasting his cum like that. "Inside," you babble out quickly, hands balling into fists against the wall. "Please, inside." You stutter over your words as he continues thrusting into you, but he understands you immediately.
You don't have to say it twice. After a moment, he bucks into you up to the hilt, and a shaky groan leaves his throat as he cums; hot, thick ropes that flood your cunt with his spend. The sensation, mixed with the feeling of him rolling his fingers over your clit is enough to make you cum as well, and you cry out, walls quivering on his cock before tensing, milking him. Your body trembles and he pulls his hands away, holding you close to him, hums of affection leaving his throat as he thrusts into you a few more times before his movements stall. There's a bit of content silence before his voice breaks it. "Still think I hate you?" You pause, then you murmur in response shakily, "Mnh-mnh. Thank you..." "You're welcome, pet. But next time you need my cock, say it instead of being a brat." "Then the next time you dream about me, tell me." "...deal."
956 notes · View notes
rayassecretlife · 1 year
Text
Pain reliever
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Pairing: Aged up!Neteyam Sully (19) x Fem!human!Reader (18)
Summary: Your on your first day of your period and when Neteyam catches on to your painful suffering, he doesn’t stop until he finds out a way to make you feel better.
Warning(s): Mature language, Period!unprotected!p in v, blood, unprotected p in v, Slight praise kink, best friends!Angst!smut
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Most people would think being a human on Pandora would be interesting, and they were right… except when you have human needs and problems that the Na’vi don’t know how to handle. Sometimes it was food, or when you need ibuprofen, but this time it was your menstrual cycle.
Your period came once a month and usually you’d go to the lab for everything you needed like medicine and pads, but even medicine wasn’t helping these cramps. Your father had recommended you some things but you had already tried everything; exercise, heating pads, medicine, etc. nothing was helping. So here you were, laid curled up in a ball inside your bed.
You prayed to eywa they stopped. You had a dinner not too long from now with the sully family and your father that you did not want to miss. Though, You didn’t know if you could hold your painful cries any longer.
“Y/N?” The sudden knock at your wooden hut’s door makes you jump, releasing your legs from the curled ball you had put yourself in. You hoped it had been your father but to your surprise, a different large Na’vi male voice was easy to recognize and you quickly shuffled around so he wouldn’t see anything when he walked in, but you had little time till he entered your room.
“Neteyam! What are you, uh… what are you doing here?” You can feel your stomach cramping horribly but you fought it off, giving the boy a straight face as he approached you.
“Wanted to make sure you were coming tonight. My mother is making your favorite” His deep, accented voice informs you, sitting down on your floor to which now he was only two inches shorter then you when you were on your bed. “Are you alright? You look pale” He goes to reach for your head but you quickly shake him off, telling him you were fine.
“I’m just tired, That’s all” Hmm, he doesn’t believe you not one bit. He’s staring you down like he’s studying your frame, trying to find the source of injury. He could smell your pain, and something else he couldn’t quite make out. “What are you-“ He shushes you as he stands up, sitting next to you on your bed that surprising didn’t break due to his large figure. He finally could smell it.
Blood.
“You are bleeding, Y/N! Where! I will take you to the lab or grandmother and-“
“No!” You cover his mouth, ceasing his worried words. The boy looks at your with wide eyes, batting his ears down as you remove your hand with a sigh. “I’m… you know how Na’vi woman have heats?” He nods his head in confusion, eyes still scattering your body to find the source of your bleeding. “Woman who are human have something like that too, except it doesn’t work the same way a heat does”
“What are you saying? A heat doesn’t make you bleed-“
“Let me finish, Tey” He sighs and nods once again, showing you his full attention. “It’s called a period and it’s… it’s basically a menstrual cycle that makes us bleed but it comes from inside, nobody hurt me” You reassure the boy but he’s still confused, he can feel your pain and definitely smell your blood, so how were you not hurt?
“But you are in pain. I-I can feel it! Don’t lie to me”
“Yes because periods also cause cramping in your stomach, and it hurts. I’ve been trying for hours to make them go away but nothing is working” Your hand is clasp around your stomach and Neteyam doesn’t miss the way your face contorts with a hiss. It was clear you were in pain.
“How can I help? I do not want you to be in pain” His voice is full of worry as he scoots closer to you, ignoring your protests as he lays his large hand on your stomach. Neteyam was so clueless when it came to human biology and it was the cutest thing ever, but right now you didn’t feel like explaining it.
“There’s nothing you can do, Tey. I’ve done all I know, I think I just need a long bath before dinner” You sigh defeatedly but he refuses to let up, shaking his head at your answer.
“There is a way, I know there is—I just have to-“
“That’s sweet, Neteyam, but I-“
“Let me help you, Y/N” His eyes are soft as they stare into your own and in that moment, you knew he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He hated when you were in pain and if there was one thing Neteyam stood by, it was that there was always a way to relieve it. “Go take a bath, I’ll um… I’ll go get some of your favorite fruits! Yeah, and some of that calming essential oil my grandmother has” His words were adorable, the way his tail swung when you smiled, and how determined he was to make you feel better.
“Okay, Tey” you finally give in making him smile, standing to his feet and he grabbed hold of your hand, helping you to stand up which made you laugh. “I don’t need—actually” A small smirk appeared on your lips before looking up at the Na’vi boy. If he was going to do this, you might as well play along, right? “Carry me to the pond?” You ask with confidence but slight hesitation. You and Neteyam had never been so close before but you found it nice that someone was taking care of you, especially him.
Who knows? Maybe this could be fun.
————
“Norm! My man, I need your help with something” The avatar’s and humans were shocked to see Neteyam none the less, he never came to the lab. It was known that neteyam did not like humans, and you had been the only one he truly never despised. Your father appeared out of one of the rooms almost instantly to tend to the oldest sully boy, removing his ear piece.
“That you, Neteyam? I must be dreaming” He grabs his hand, pulling him into a firm but quick hug, both of them pulling away with a laugh. “What did you need? You never come here” like I said, it wasn’t a secret Neteyam didn’t like humans, that’s the exact reason he never came to the lab. He was just like his mother after all.
“Could I use one of your computers? I just need to look up a few things” Norm furrowed his eyebrows at the question but brushed it off due to Neteyam’s straight expression, not wanting to explain the situation to him.
“Follow me” The two make their way to one of the rooms that had been filled with computers, an empty and quiet room since others would get suspicious if they saw him on the monitors. “Don’t mess with anything. They’ll kick my ass if you break something” Norm informs the oldest sully boy and they both laugh, neteyam watching as the avatar left the room before opening the computer.
“Alright, let’s see…” He opens the browser, searching for what helps with a period cycle. It would have made other men laugh but Neteyam was rather intrigued, reading all the symptoms you could have. He felt horrible that you were experiencing so much pain, his heart felt for you. “Exercise, medicine, heating pads… she’s tried all of these!” He groans, clicking on the link, but it was then, he saw the only other thing he would be able to do. “Intercourse…”
He was taken aback by the sudden change in topic, would that even be possible? Neteyam wanted to help you so horribly that he was questioning whether or not it was even safe. You were human and he was Na’vi, would it even work? He was much more bigger then you, your body was so small compared to his own, wouldn’t he break you?
Would you even… want to do that with him? It would just be a friend helping a friend… right?
He wanted to ask norm, truth be told—but he knew he couldn’t ask him that, especially about his own daughter. You were an innocent girl and Neteyam was on the fence about ruining that. He didn’t want to corrupt you in any way, he just wanted to help relieve your pain.
Don’t be mistaken, Neteyam has had the biggest crush on you for as long as he could remember but you were human—or at least half. You were the first child that was mixed with Na’vi and human through reproduction, and most of the clan didn’t even know what to call you. Neteyam always struggled with this fact because even though you could breath their air and had some of their skills, your body was still human, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to mate with you, or even be accepted by his clan. Your love was forbidden.
But he always wanted to know if you felt the same way, or how far he’d go to show you how he felt.
That’s exactly what he planned to do, that was the only thing he could do. “Y/N?” His voice is soft but questioning as he knocks on the door to your hut, not hearing a response from the inside. He could smell your scent so closely though, almost as if you had been right behind him—but when he heard your soft hums behind the hut, he knew exactly where you were.
The splashing sound of the water fall slightly covered your hums, but he could make out your figure from behind the water, laughing to himself as he watched you dance. You were standing behind the waterfall, inside the cave that was also filled with water like a private jacuzzi. For you, the water had been at your shoulders but for Neteyam, it only sat level with his waist.
His ears are too busy listening to your voice to notice he had been walking into the water, making his way toward you like a fisherman under a sirens call. What he was about to ask scared him so much, but he also could stop himself. Maybe it was time he came clean.
He entered the cave without alerting you, watching as your bare back flexed when you ran your hands over your body. Your back was turned to him with your long hair flowing down it, voice echoing through the cave like a beautiful song. He could make out the outline of your chest and it almost made him choke, he felt so wrong for walking in on you but how could he stop himself? You were so irresistible.
“Y/N” you gasp and quickly lower yourself into the water, turning toward the tall boy with hesitancy. How long had he been standing there? Did he see anything? “Sorry for scaring you I, uh… I was looking for you and-“
“It’s okay, Teyam. What’s wrong? You look nervous?” Your eyes are big looking up at him, genuinely worried but he only found it attractive, as if your eyes could talk. His bioluminescent freckles are slowly peaking through their glow which makes your heart thump; he always looked so pretty like this. You watch as he lowers himself in the water to his knees, making his way over to you. His face was only a few inches taller then your own now, but he had been so close to you, you knew if he reached up he would touch your bare body in an instant. “Nete…?”
He wasn’t scaring you, but he was definitely making your nervous. His eyes scanned every detail of your face, and you worried he might’ve been mad at you or something with his lack of expression.
“I went to the lab” He finally spoke, clearly his throat with a sigh. “I found out another way you could feel better…” You cock your head slightly but smile realizing how nervous he had been. He went to the lab for you? “I know I should’ve asked you first but I just want to help you, Y/N. I… I don’t want you to be in pain”
You smile, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear before shaking your head. “No, no. I think it’s cute, You know. That you went there for me and all. I know you don’t like humans” He scoffs out a chuckle making both of you laugh, nodding his head. “What did you find out?” You question but only watch how his body tenses up, almost as if he had been afraid to tell you. “Oh come on, you didn’t go for nothing”
You don’t fail to notice how his face softens to you, and how his eyes move from one of your eyes to the other. You could feel his tail brushing against your leg, and his small freckles glowed in the slightly dimmed cave. His lips part slowly and you watch as he lets out a small breath before straightening his back.
“Can i…” His ears bat down as you raise your eyebrows slightly, listening to his words. “Can i kiss you?” The question rings in your head for maybe 10 seconds before you even begin to breathe again. Did Neteyam Sully just ask if he could kiss you? Your best friend? A Na’vi….? You felt as if your legs could give out under you, but you just continue to look at him, trying to study if he had been joking. He lets out a small breath and chuckles awkwardly, shaking his head. “Sorry I… I didn’t mean to-“
“You want to kiss me?” Your voice is just above a whisper when you speak, and your eyes are searching his for the right answer. He nods his head with a small smile.
“Only if you’ll let me?” He takes a small step closer and you don’t even try to move, he could hear your heart beating horribly fast, and could see the look in your eyes as your cheeks grew hot from his words. I made her blush! Great mother she’s blushing! Neteyam held back his smile as he watches you look away from him, his tail swaying under the water.
You finally look up to him and nod your head, your smile so big your cheeks hurt from it. He only chuckles, cupping your small face in his large hand before he leans down to press his lips against your own, and in that moment you didn’t even care you were naked under the water.
You move closer to him, allowing your breasts to press against his chest. You could feel his heartbeat with your hand against his body, it was racing just like yours. His arm was so strong around your waist, and his kiss was delicate like a small passionate peck. You always imagined your first kiss, especially with Neteyam.
Neteyam couldn’t get enough of your scent; your sweet, vanilla and coconut scent. You smelled like heaven, and even though you weren’t Na’vi, it was like you had pheromones that sent butterflies to his stomach. He felt this claim over you, like you were meant to be his, like you were his mate.
The two of you pull away slowly, still only inches away from each other. Neteyam was more confident to ask now, to tell you what he found on the internet.
“I read that, uh… that…” Maybe he wasn’t ready, but your reassuring hand on his arm made it all come out at once. “I read that having sex could help a lot” Your mind went blank when he said that. Did you hear him correctly? Sex? With Neteyam? That couldn’t be possible… right? A human with a Na’vi…
But you hated the fact this thought had crossed your mind so many times. The thought of Neteyam being your first and last, the thought of him being your first everything… it was an image you thought of a lot.
“I just… I just wanna help you, Y’know? Just wanna make you feel better” If he couldn’t see you, you would’ve been biting on your nails right now but instead your just staring at him, almost unresponsive as you fight the thoughts in your head. Could you even do this? You wanted to… but could you?
“I… but I’m bleeding” You point out with a slight sadness in your voice, and Neteyam’s hands grab your waist gently to pull you even closer to him then before. He didn’t care and you saw that, he just wanted to help you no matter what it was that you needed. Your mouth opened but almost insanely shut again due to your lack of response, and you couldn’t help yourself from pulling his face back into your own.
Your lips move perfectly in synch as soon as they lock, and in no time he has your legs wrapped around his large waist, kissing you passionately under this waterfall. A soft moan escapes your lips when he pushes his tongue against your own, and sets you on a ledge on the waterfall so he could stand up and be level with you. You don’t even realize your state until the air hits your skin, causing you to pull back from him to look down between you.
“I… Neteyam” You catch your bottom lip between your teeth as you notice your naked bodies. Though neteyam didn’t even realize your words when his eyes roam your body, fingertips tracing every curve until they reached your thighs. Your nipples were perked high, and you could already feel the pool form between your legs. Then there was his body; His very large body that was fully bare, his cock pressing against your calf. “Will this work…? Will it-“
“You ask too many questions, Tanhì” He trails, allowing his hands to move to your hardened breasts. You watch lustfully as he leans down to your neck, kissing your skin hungrily as if you were his last meal. Part of you was nervous, but the other part of you was curious. You wanted to feel him—touch him.
“Mmm…” You lay your head back against the stone behind you, laying a hand on the back of his head as he begins to trail kisses down from your neck. His large hands knead your breasts tenderly until his mouth is hovering just above one of them, tongue flicking against your nipple. “Neteyam…” Great mother how badly he’s always wanted to hear that… his name slip through your lips.
You let out a shack breath when his tongue pressed harder against and around your nipple, his other hand rolling your free nipple between his fingers. Neteyam couldn’t keep his eyes off your pretty yellows, noticing what made you moan even louder for him to keep going. He payed close attention to your body language as you grind yourself against him the best you could, feeling his hardening cock press even higher up your thigh.
“Tey, I… could you…” Neteyam watches you struggle through your words, your breath taken the moment his lips kissed your soft skin. You wanted to speak, but staring into his eyes as he completely worshiped your human body, was so fucking attractive and made you hot to his touch. “Touch me” You say in a breathless demand which makes him smirk and pull away from your nipple, placing more and more kisses back up your body till he reached your neck.
“I thought you were nervous?“ He points out in a cocky tone, one of his large hands laying on your thigh as it creeps up against his body. He’s practically trapped between your legs now and you love every second of it, your soft hands combing thorough his braids the more his lips moved up your neck. He was right, you were nervous but there was just something about him… something you couldn’t turn away from.
You let out a small gasp when you feel the head of his cock press against your inner thigh, just inches away from your core. Your body felt so needy for his, like he had flicked a switch as soon as he kissed you and you were suddenly all his to toy with. “Kiss me?” You ask while his head is still between your neck, nails scratching his skin gently as he pulls back up.
It felt surreal. It felt like just yesterday you were pulling his tail and now you were under him, begging him to make you feel better. When his lips touched yours, you felt those familiar butterflies in your stomach along with the tingling feeling between your legs—almost as if his touch had set your skin ablaze.
His lips were soft against yours with a hint of hunger, one of his hands snaking to the side of your face to pull you closer. You wanted to kiss him forever, you wanted to soak up as much as you could of him because you knew this was merely only to help you, but only Eywa knows you wanted more then that.
Ever since you were a little girl you always loved Neteyam. You father was Norm after all, which meant you were born very close to the sully family from the start. You watched Neteyam grow since as long as you could remember, sticking by his side whenever times got tough with his father. You were there for his first Ikran ride, and you cheered him on when he completed his rite of passage. Neteyam was going to be a strong Olo’Eyktan, that was for sure, but you always hated the fact he would have to mate with someone and forget about you.
It wasn’t hard to fall for the chiefs son, much less Neteyam. He was pretty in every way, and his way with words was always so beautiful.
“Mawey, Tahnì. We’ve got time” The boy mumbled against your lips, leaning his forehead against yours to slow you a down a bit. You blush out of embarrassment, you didn’t mean to rush, you were too caught up in the moment—too caught up in him. Neteyam watches as your cheeks burn a gentle pink which makes a smile pull his lips, and he can’t help but lean down to kiss your cheek. “It’s okay, I’m getting a little impatient too”
His words are just above a whisper when your eyes meet, his big yellows staring into your beautiful blue’s. He always got so lost in them, they were different from everyone else’s. You could feel his heart beating against his chest with how close you had been, how his tail brushed your thigh. Great mother, it was impossible to stay away from him.
Your hand, which already had been wandering his skin, is now just above his pelvis, threatening to touch him where he hurt the most. “You don’t have to suffer for me” You breath out gentle against him, and you watch as his lips part with a slight shudder when your fingertips graze the head of his cock.
“Y/N…” He warns barely audible as you small hand tries its best to wrap around him, but he was far too big and it was merely impossible. His lips reattach to yours before you could say anything else, and his hand slowly pulls yours away from him, beginning to trail passionate kisses down your body.
Neteyam knew you were a virgin, you didn’t even have to tell him. He remembered when you’d stay up for hours when norm and Jake had been away, talking about what you two wanted for the future or stupid things like when your first kiss would be.
Neteyam wasn’t a virgin. Hell, he was the chiefs son.
He had his fair share of girls since he was 17, but they were never really his priority. Most of the time he slept with girls to get his mind off of you, and how he couldn’t have you. Your father had seen the connection between the two of you at your very young age, always whispering to Jake whenever you’d braid Neteyam’s hair or fall asleep on top of each other somehow.
He was perfect for you in your dads eyes.
“This okay?” The boy softly asks when he presses the pad of his thumb against your clit, and you nod releasing a shaky breath. Your scent was far too strong, like a drug almost. His eyes are fallen to your bare body, stuck on the curves against your skin.
“It’s not nice to stare, Teyam” Your words lift his gaze back to your own, allowing him to notice your nervous eyes. You were afraid he wouldn’t find you attractive enough. Given you didn’t have a na’vi body and definitely not what he was used to, but if anything, Neteyam was more attracted to you then he’d ever been with anyone before.
“You have no idea how beautiful you are” The boy’s words come out gentle and soft, like a bandaid you lay atop an open wound to make it stop bleeding. Your cheeks are flush red as you sit up, laying your hands on the back of his neck. He watches closely as your eyes slowly flutter shut at the tingling feeling between your legs, the feeling he sent you with just his finger. You looked so beautiful like this, and you were so wet already. “Feel good?”
“Mhmmm… always feel so good when your around, Tey” His ears perk high at your words and he could feel his heart jump, glancing down at how his fingers played at your forbidden area. “Mm!” Your hand comes clasping around his wrist to stop his movements, feeling the pressure become a little too much to handle.
Neteyam can’t help but chuckle as he cups the side of your face with his free hand, pressing your bottom lip down with his thumb. “I’ve got you, Tanhì. Give yourself to me, let me make you feel better” his words ring in your ears as he reattaches his lips to your neck, rubbing faster circles against your clit right when you let go of his wrist. Give yourself to him?
“Neteyam…Neteyam” You repeat breathlessly and grab onto his shoulders, allowing your moans to fall from your lips so gentle you didn’t even notice you had been rambling. Neteyam’s cock was growing painfully hard now. He couldn’t take much more of the waiting, he couldn’t listen to your moans anymore without grunting in the pain he suffered.
“Need you to come for me, pretty girl. Can you do that for me?” You hum with a tense body, grip tightening around Neteyam’s arm as he chased your high. Whimpers are slipping from your lips without warning, and you could feel the growing tension in the pit of your stomach.
“Tey—Neteyam..!” Your words are shuttered by a gasp when you press your legs against his body, and push your head back against the stone under you, feeling yourself come undone. The boy above you whispers praising words in your ear as his finger slows against your clit, easing you out of your very intense high. Your chest was already heaving and you barely even started, and the way Neteyam’s eyes glued to your own made your cheeks grow hot with embarrassment.
“That’s it… good girl” His words make a shiver run down your spine, almost as if he’d reached in your body and touched your soul itself. He chuckles at your state, glancing down between you as he pulls his finger from your wet cunt, watching as your slick ran down his blue skin. You watch closely as he slips his thumb in his mouth, the sweet taste of you splurging against his tongue. You were sweet, tasted like one of the forest fruits he always loved to eat.
“Wait” you stop him from pulling your legs farther apart, slightly sitting up to look down at the unfamiliar part of him that had been pressing against you for so long. “Can i… touch you?” Neteyam’s eyes soften at your request, noticing how your eyes scanned his painfully hard cock. “It’s only fair, Right?”
After being hesitant for a second, the boy couldn’t help but smirk in the moment, cupping the side of your face. “What kind of best friend would I be if I said no?” Best friend… great mother, how were you going to survive? Neteyam had thought you only meant touching him, but to his surprise, you lowered yourself back into the water, now standing just as tall as his mid stomach.
As soon as you wrapped your small fingers around his cock, you felt how it pulsed against them, and you could hear the shaky breath that left your best friends mouth in that moment. God, even his cock had been pretty. He was long in length, somewhat thick but not to the point you found it impossible. The base of his cock was a darker blue like his skin tone, while it got lighter as you moved up, and his tip stood out in a lighter red/soft pink tone.
“You don’t have to-“
“I always knew you were pretty, but I never expected this” You mumble but his hearing is far too good to ignore it, which your words sent heat through his cheeks. Your hand is barely able to wrap around him, but your eyes stare up at him confidently as you stroke his length gently. “A pretty cock for a pretty boy” You smile, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. Neteyam lets out a deep breath when he reaches his hand down to your face, cupping your cheek with his large hand.
“A gorgeous girl deserves that, doesn’t she?” He hums, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. With another glance down, your able to see the slightly blue-tinted pre that leaks from his tip, practically begging you for your tongue. Neteyam’s hand is still against your face but slowly moves to your head, noticing your hesitation.
You move your head down with his soft guidance against it, stopping when your lips were just a few inches from his leaking tip. You wanted to taste it, to discover the secrets your best friend had kept from you for so long. It was truly a dream you’ve had many times, but you were sure they wouldn’t compare to the real thing.
“Just the tip, Tanhì. Don’t want you getting hurt, do we?” Neteyam taunts above you, sucking in a sharp breath once you finally press your tongue against his skin. Your eyes close when the sweet taste hits your tongue, and you can’t help but hum around his cock approvingly. “Kalweyaveng… just like that, Y/N” He breathes, the warmth of your small mouth taking the head of his cock with a nice welcome. Your hand is still stroking the rest of him, helped by the water so his cock had been wet from the start.
You pull back slightly after awhile to run your tongue along the side of it, flicking it over his sensitive spots. “Like this?” Neteyam groans, his fingers slowly starting to grip your hair. The bioluminescent freckles against his cock begin to glow brighter, alerting you of his arousal which makes you blush. The Na’vi was holding his pretty sounds from you, trying his hardest to hold it together.
“Just like that” his words are extremely faint as he looks back down to you, watching as you place him back in the warmth of your mouth. You knew he was getting frustrated when more and more pre leaked onto your tongue, begging for something much more then your mouth. Which is exactly why he pulled your head off of him and reached down, pulling you back up to sit on the ledge.
You frown, “was I not good-“
“You were fucking perfect, Y/N. I just—fuck, I need you” He lays you back against the stone once again, his large hands roaming your bare skin. “Great mother” You laugh as he cursed himself, head dropping down to capture the skin of your neck between his lips. You let out a soft moan as your hands traveled his body, indulging in the amazing feeling of him against you. It felt like his hands were everywhere—touching you, kissing you… he was practically apart of you. You could feel every emotion that coarse through his body, every loving feeling of his heart thumping against his chest. “N-Need you, Y/N”
You smile at his whimpers, this didn’t feel like just sex; this felt so much deeper, so much more sensual and it was doing so much to the both of you. Even through the pain and need for his body against your own, your mind still fogged with fear, reaching down to feel where his cock pressed against your thigh. “Neteyam” He let out a shaky breath once your fingers graze him, your hand clasping around his length in curiosity. You both looked between you at your movements, and you could no longer tell which side to listen to—your body or your fear. “Neteyam…” you repeat, tired of fighting with your mind and he looked to you with concern, realizing the slight panic in your voice.
He noticed your face twist in resistance and quickly cupped your cheek, stopping your hand from exploring the forbidden part of his body. “Y/N, Look at me” He didn’t need the bond to feel your fear inside and out, almost instantly rushing to sooth your frantic mind. You wanted this, you did—it was just so scary. “We don’t have to do this, okay? There’s other ways I can take care of you” His accent is soothing against your ear but you shake your head, wrapping your hand around his wrist gently.
You and him both knew your anxiety was off the charts some times, but you definitely wanted to do this with him. You were in love with him, and you wanted nothing more then to show him how much you loved him. “I want to do it, I do i just-“ Your rambling is cut by his lips, softly pressing into yours sweetly. He heard you, he saw you and he definitely understood you. “Slow?” He chuckles, leaning his forehead against yours.
“Always” He kisses the palm of your hand and you feel your heart fall flush with love, that smile he so desperately loved reappearing across your lips. “Tell me if it’s too much, yes?” You nod, kissing the bridge of his nose before he stood back up, pulling your body closer to the edge so it pressed against his. Your top half felt empty without him there but you held out, propping yourself up on your elbows to watch his every move.
He took his painfully hard manhood in his hand, gently running it along your dripping wet slit. You both could’ve got off just by this motion, just off the sight of one another like this. The first time was always painful, Neteyam knew that. He wanted nothing more then to make it the most comfortable and loving experience you could’ve imagined. He didn’t want to have sex, he wanted to make love to you—make you feel all his love that’s been pent up all these years.
“I’m gonna go real slow, okay? I won’t hurt you” You smile at his soft words, knowing how afraid he was of actually hurting you in any way, shape or form. You reassure him as he slowly pushes himself past your entrance, only the tip of him steadying inside you. You bite your lips, already feeling the slight burning sensation between you. He was so big compared to you, and you knew there was much worse pain to come. “This is the hardest part, Ma’Tìyawn”
You didn’t care, you just wanted him close to you and he saw that. He saw your nervous eyes almost instantly and leaned his body down to your own so he could hover over you. “It’s okay, Teyam” You whisper and feel your breath reflect off his face onto yours, faces only inches apart. He dips his head down to your neck, pulling the skin between his lips as he pushed a further depth inside you. The pain grew immensely and your nails dug into his back, grunts escaping his mouth.
“I know, I know” He soothes beside your ear, trying his hardest to keep his composure. You felt so good around him, like your body had been made to fit with his. “Your doing so good, Baby. It’ll get better, just relax for me” Your needs are telling you to take all of it at once but you know in your mind you’ll get hurt, or at least be horribly sore in the morning. You let out a gasp when he pushes further, pushing your hand against his chest with a cry. “Good girl” He praises, glad you had told him instead of hiding your pain.
“It hurts, Tey…” He shushes you, wiping your cheek off with the gentle pad of his thumb. You still wanted this more then ever and he knew that, but he’d be lying if he said it wouldn’t be hard. Neteyam must’ve waited forever until you gave him the okay, making sure he didn’t push you over your edge. He wanted to take care of you, he needed to make you feel better.
“There you go, That’s it” His coaching words help your body relax and he takes his time pushing into you all the way, earning a louder moan from your lips when he buried himself inside you.
“I—you—fuck” He chuckles at your stuttering voice and pulls your ear between his teeth, watching them perk at his sweet voice. “So big…” Now it’s his ears perking at your praise, and you can feel his hands tighten around your body. Even through the pain you smirk, placing a kiss against his shoulder. A praise kink, huh? What else was there to him? You thought to yourself, pulling his head up in front of your own. “Just give me a second, okay?”
Neteyam smiles, planting a soft kiss against your lips before mumbling against them, “take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere, Tanhì” His big eyes stare into yours with patience, and his hand slips between you to find your sensitive bud. Your cheeks flush a dark red at his words, and it almost makes you want to utter the forbidden words you’ve always wanted to say.
I love you. The words flood your mind while your fingers touch gently along his face, moaning at the sensation he had been giving you in every way.
He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, glancing between you nervously but you quickly pull his gaze back to you, nodding your head. He was so cute like this, so afraid of hurting you. He nods his head before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, gently moving his hips against your own. You felt so full of him, so full you felt like you could break in half. Your cramps were slowly starting to go away with every small thrust, your moans growing louder as he buries his head in your neck.
“Y/N your… shit—so tight” He breaths against you and you let out a soft moan, his ears perking at the sweet sounds you made. “Doing so good… fuck, you take me so well” Oh how the butterflies in your stomach made you giggle, crashing your lips against his again. His hands were gentle against your body but his pace slowly increased with time, and every moan and gasp you let out would only encourage him more.
“Teyam…” The sound of his name rolling off your tongue made him almost feral, and he could only watch as your eyes roll back and your legs squeeze his body. Now, all your pain had gone away. Your cunt was soaked from the mix of your slick and blood, making it such an easy access to the boy above you. You held his face, eyes never leaving his even with every shock of pleasure he sent you. His forehead was soon covered in sweat and so was yours, all that could be heard in the forest were your loud moans that covered his small whimpers. “More, Tey. Please” Your body speaks for you and he instantly grants your wish, pulling both of your legs up to lay against his shoulders.
Your mouth fell open as his tip kissed your cervix, reaching a depth you didn’t even know he could go. This is exactly what you needed, and it made it almost impossible to stay quiet. “Your the only girl I want saying my name. My gorgeous girl… great mother, Ma’Y/N. You are so beautiful, you know that?” He moves closer and you whimper at the stretching of your legs, massaging his arm as your head fell back against the grass.
“Your the gorgeous one, Tey” You tease through a moan and he only chuckles, leaning down to kiss your jaw. This boy was your life in one person and you weren’t ready to lose him—not to a Na’vi or anyone else.
His teeth pull your ear and you giggle, nails digging into his back so hard you knew you left a scratch. That feeling is back, the one you got before that sat in the pit of your stomach. Neteyam could feel you pulsing around him, and this only made him slow down, taking his time to make every stroke deep enough to the point you could feel every inch of him.
“Neteyam… I’m…” Your words are shortened by your shaky breath but he sees right through you, and he’s quick to hold your thigh, picking up his pace just a bit to draw you to your edge. He wanted you to scream it—to tell the whole forest how only he could’ve helped you. Neteyam was so set on it. After this, there was no turning his feelings away anymore.
“Scream my name, pretty girl. You deserve it” It felt so forbidden the way he slipped inside you with ease now, how something so much larger then you was welcomed by your body like you were it’s home. He applies more pressure, both inside and outside of you, holding your leg firmly against his shoulder.
“Neteyam. Oh, my god” you moan his name louder, nails digging deeper against his large shoulders. You’re completely lost in him, and you’d didn’t care. You didn’t care about someone hearing, or what this would mean afterwards, you just needed him with you—right now.
“I’ve waiting too long for this” He grunts against your ear making your stomach flip, and you can’t help but question through a moan.
“W-what?”
But he dips his head back down to kiss you, driving his hips back against yours in a passionate thrust. He ignored your question purposely, he wasn’t going to ruin the moment the two of you were sharing. Of course you didn’t understand his comment. Hell, Neteyam knew better then to believe you loved him. You always saw him as your family, like a brother.
But that was far from true.
“Neteyam” He was far too caught up in the blissful feeling between you, and you watch closely as his bioluminescent freckles glow brighter, another kiss planting against your lips. Then there it was again; that pit in your stomach.
That pit that cried to your body for a release, that pit that built the worst pressure against your abdomen, and that pit that neteyam had put there.
But he had been pulsing inside you too, and you felt every last bit of it. Every beat, and heard every grunt that left his mouth. He was eager, just as you.
“I’m… oh, fuck! I’m coming, Tey..!” You warn against his lips. Neteyam’s answering moan vibrates all around your lips, sending a shockwave to your stomach when you’re just barely tipping over the edge.
“Come for me, Tanhì. My perfect girl, come just for me” You grow dizzy and you can do nothing but submit to him, unapologetic when you moan his name the loudest you could. He’s pushing harder and faster, just the way you needed and somehow, someway, this became much more than just sex.
He was making love to you, and you noticed it as soon as he caressed your face.
“Neteyam!” You scream, biting down on your lip to stifle any louder moans that could’ve gotten you caught. Your body feels it—the crashing of your orgasm, the tightening of your stomach, and the slick that poured from your sopping cunt. Your legs tighten around the boy just as your walls around him do, and you leave Neteyam a grunting mess above you.
“That’s it—fuck, good… good girl” The heat between you is more intense now then ever, all that could be heard was the sound of your heavy breathing and moans mixed together. “Fuck, Y/N” His body trembles and his thrust become sloppy, shoving himself against you one last time before he’s just over his edge.
He pulls himself from you with a grunt, and a long moan is heard from the both of you when his light blue release spills onto your stomach, coating you in it. His body jerks into his hand and your head falls back against the stone under you, chest still heaving with pure exhaustion.
It’s a good two minutes before either of you were able to move, but even then, you chose to stay in the position you had been in, except now you were rolled over—head laying against his large chest.
“That was…” You mutter under your breath, unable to finish.
“Unbelievable” He replies, making you look up at him with the a small laugh, except this time it was more innocent. The boy looks down at you and it’s clear he can’t hide it anymore, he can’t keep acting like his feelings for you don’t exist. “Feel better?” Neteyam asks with a gentle stroke to your arm, comforting your tired body against his.
“So much better” You hum with a smile, laying your head in the crook of his neck. “Thank you, Tey” His face falls at your words, replying with a simple anytime. He wasn’t ready to leave you, to go home without you by his side. This could be the only night you’d ever be this close, and he knew this would be the only time to admit his feelings for you, but he just couldn’t. “I’m happy with this, you know”
His forehead creases at your words, “what do you mean?” He’s nervous, you could hear his heartbeat against his chest, and it was quickening by the second. The soft pads of Neteyam’s fingers brush your hair away from your face, just in time for you to look up at him with a smile.
“This, us, you…” us? Did you mean to say that? “I’m glad it was you” And there it was, the realization between both of you. You were no longer in the dark and mist of each other, but you now saw each other clearer than day itself, and it made you wonder.
Was this ever just a pain reliever?
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Ughhh I kind of hate this… feels so rushed :/
My writers block is terrible but I’m trying to write day by day, hopefully I’ll have another Jake sully smut out soon!
Taglist: @doggyteam2028 @luvagirlsworld @mashiromochi @angelsamor @neytirishottie @lu-the-ghost-reader @viajaeger @jakescumdump @myh3artttt @rinizitos @luz15sstuff @lalamac125 @countryandsweetbabygirl @queenmizuki @sunnysolhaze
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wonwoosstuff · 2 months
Text
wonwoo x f.reader; just them having a sexy time as a couple (established relationship); 18+
“Hm, you like that don’t you, sweetheart?” you whispered seductively in your boyfriend’s ear, gently cupping his face with your hands.
The two of you do not even remember how you’ve gotten to this point. Somehow you’re suddenly sitting on Wonwoo’s lap straddling him on your soft couch.
Tonight was one of those nights where Wonwoo planed on taking things slow. The mood of the living room— with having no lights on besides the couch lamp that illuminated the two of you— took the romantic atmosphere to another level.
Simultaneously the opened window blew a soft but cooling night breeze into the room causing you to shiver. The slow make out session was interrupted by your complaint:
“Wonu~can we please close the window? It’s really cold in here.”
A brief moment of silence. You looked at him with confusion.
“Wonwoo?”
“Let’s get you warmed up then.” He answered unhinged. Yet, these simple words created a mess of butterflies in your stomach.
Your boyfriend swiftly grabbed your waist and laid you softly down on the couch facing you contemporaneously. You drooled over the way he took off his shirt rapidly, then taking off his glasses to exempt you from getting hurt. The sight of a shirtless, well-built and shoulder-rich Wonwoo made your jaw slightly drop. Something about his movements were just so— breathtaking and sexy— even if these are considered normal in society.
You quickly looked away from him not expecting him to grab your jaw to make you face him directly.
“I want you to focus on me, love.” His fox-like gaze pierced through you. Wonwoo made sure that your eyes were not leaving his. Keeping eye contact during sexual intercourse was his one and only priority.
“Ugh, I can’t do this. You’re j-just so—“
“So?” He raised his eyebrow curiously.
“So intimidating and sexy” the last part of your sentence was mumbled however your boyfriend still heard it. Wonwoo’s reaction to your little confession was a smile followed by a deep chuckle. “Cute” was the last comment that he left on your shameless confession before connecting your lips with his.
The man continued to kiss you passionately as he put his arms steadily next to your head to support his weight. Wonwoo practically caged you into his trap. Nobody would even think that you were lying under him— that’s how wide his shoulders reached.
He began making his way slowly to your chest pulling your Tshirt up to reveal a better view of your breasts. To be more frank, all you had on were panties. Walking around with a bra was in fact very uncomfortable.
“I can’t believe you’re all mine, love.” He admired while pecking your cleavage.
“Baby?”
“Mhm?”
“Are you not going to take my shirt off?” You asked while looking up your boyfriend.
Wonwoo left a smooch on your belly button and answered: “Later, babe, later.”
You nodded and were curious about his upcoming plans. The first part of the plan was massaging your boobs. He was utterly skilled with his fingers due to his gaming abilities. So he used them as nipple torture.
————————————————————————
Your boyfriend had your legs laying on his shoulders for the past 30 minutes. He didn’t show any mercy and pounded into your arousal senseless. To support yourself you found your way to his hands intertwining your fingers with his fingers.
Your fucked out and flushing face turned him on making him go harder on you. Keeping up with Wonwoo’s pace was difficult, almost impossible.
He had one hell of stamina.
Wonwoo hasn’t really been moaning much — unlike you— instead he preferred to keep his calm and bite his lips to focus on hitting your g-spot perfectly.
“Ugh—W-Wonwoo— I can’t do this anymore, p-please spare me.” You could barely speak to him.
All you could see was a blurry silhouette of your boyfriend— that’s how good he made you feel.
“Oh yes, princess, you can.” He implied with his deep voice while also letting go of your hands.
“You look so hot like this.” A comment he wanted to share hours ago. Now he finally said it.
Wonwoo pulled you closer by your ankles to get deeper access to your g-spot — and it worked.
“Does this make you feel good, darling?”
“Mhm, y-yes!” you replied while moaning helplessly.
Wonwoo pecking your ankles while smirking at you was your last straw. He knew it turned you on.
He knew all of your weaknesses.
However your biggest weakness was your boyfriend getting to close to you and your ear.
And today seemed like your lucky day. He still was focused on thrusting harshly into you but leaned forward to meet your gaze directly. This resulted into you looking away quickly to not meet your boyfriend’s seductive gaze.
“Will you focus on your man, hm? Trust me, you don’t want me to turn this into a punishment.” He said while grabbing your jaw once again.
You began to hold onto his shoulders since his thrusting became sloppier. Still, it was hard to keep the eye contact.
“Are you warm enough, love?” He asked softly making you smile.
©️ wonwoosstuff do not copy or translate!
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ageofevermore · 2 years
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waldau · 3 months
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hii i would like to request a fake dating scoups x reader au where the reader falls first but coups falls harder <3 thank u!
here you go anon, hope you like this :)
reset — choi seungcheol | 2,008 words | fluff, hurt/comfort
cheol brainrot go brrrr
gender neutral reader. warnings: none.
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technically speaking, the party’s going fine.
despite how much you want to hate it, it’s going the way parties do. there’s music, there’s alcohol, there’s your own corner if you want to tune out the sound of everything else, and there’s seungcheol’s friends. he’s spent at least half an hour introducing you to everyone — you’ve met a lot of them before, but there’s still some new ones. there’s always new ones.
and even though they’ve been nothing but polite to you, engaging you in conversation and making an effort to learn more about you, you can’t shake off the feeling that this isn’t really where you’re supposed to be.
you don’t know who you were kidding when you agreed to be his fake date for the party. he’s already had a ton of people hanging onto him throughout the course of the night. you’re not sure why he even bothered asking you. he could have asked his manager to find someone that would actually match with him, and maybe create a big splash if it made it to the news.
instead, he’d asked you out.
it won’t make a difference in the news, anyway, he’d said, like he wasn’t aware of the way he shattered your heart with those words. like it was common knowledge that nobody could even imagine the two of you together. like it wasn’t worth anyone’s time or imagination, most of all his.
suddenly, you find the sounds in the room too loud to bear. it’s not the first party you’ve been to, but it’s the first one where you’ve felt truly alone. you’re glad you haven’t touched your drink yet.
no one’s really paying attention to you exclusively, and you’re okay with nodding along and throwing in an occasional response here and there. but then it’s not okay, anymore. you shouldn’t have to be here in the first place, on this stupid fake date you agreed to because of your little crush on seungcheol.
okay, maybe it’s not just a little crush. but the point is that you shouldn’t have to be here hurting your feelings in order to spend a little time with him.
you excuse yourself under the pretense of having to take a call and head towards the balcony. joshua, one of seungcheol’s closest friends, comes up to ask you if everything’s okay. you’ve been friends with him for long enough that he can tell when you're fine and when you're not, but you give him a look that hopefully conveys you want him to let this slide.
“seungcheol mentioned this isn’t really your thing, so let him know if you want to go home. i know he’ll be okay with that.”
you nod wordlessly, words of gratitude stuck in your throat. what seungcheol tells you is true — joshua is just too damn perceptive.
you feel like you can finally take a better breath when the door shuts behind you, separating you from everyone else. the cold air makes you feel better, even if it’s beginning to seep into your skin because of the outfit you’ve worn.
it doesn’t matter, though. you need a bit of a reset.
somehow, it hardly takes four minutes before you feel someone behind you. and it’s not just anyone.
“do you have a death wish or something?”
you choose not to grace him with an answer.
“hey,” seungcheol prompts when you don’t reply. “what’s up?”
“shouldn’t i be asking you that?”
seungcheol steps to your side and looks at you. even though you’re gazing down at the empty road sparsely dotted with streetlights, you can feel his gaze pierce you.
“do you want to go home?” he asks softly.
it hurts. he shouldn’t be this considerate to you and then not like you back. it can't just be one without the other.
“i don’t know, do you?”
he sighs. “okay. i don’t know what i’ve done wrong, but i can tell you’re not comfortable right now. are you done for tonight?”
you shake your head. “i don’t want you to leave because of me. it seemed like you were having fun back there.”
“and you weren’t,” he replies, reading between the lines.
“it doesn’t matter, okay? it’s not your fault i’m not having fun.”
“that’s not how this works,” seungcheol stresses, stepping forward to grip your arms and recoiling a bit. “you’re cold.”
you shrug. another thing that’s not gone well today.
seungcheol takes off his jacket and hands it to you without any hesitation, but you don’t take it. you can’t keep living in your little daydream, living on moments where you think he might love you just a bit more than he would a friend. one of you needs to break the cycle, and if it’s going to be you, you’re prepared.
“seriously, what is wrong with you?” he asks, soft but sharp. you finally look him in the eyes. he has that gaze — the one where it looks like he knows exactly what you’re thinking about. it scares you sometimes, the way he’s so accurate. he must have picked up something from joshua over the years.
“nothing’s wrong with me, cheol,” you say, slightly bitter. “just because i don’t want your jacket doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world.”
"you're right, i'm sorry," he says, taking a step closer to you. "i shouldn't have said it like that. but...it's not just about the jacket. at first i thought i caught you on an off day, but you seemed fine till we got here. i don’t know what happened after that. are you hungry? did someone say something to you? do you need me to punch anyone?”
you give him an exasperated look. “you’d punch someone if i asked?”
“in a heartbeat. i thought you knew that by now.”
“and if i was wrong?”
“you’re never wrong when it comes to things like these. and i’d forgive you even if you were.”
"you're too trusting, you know that?"
"well," seungcheol says, lowering the jacket. but it's still in front of you, still on offer. "you're my best friend. i think you have some privilege."
you hate the earnestness in his voice as much as you love it. “i know. sorry.”
“don’t apologize, sweetheart. tell me what’s wrong, and tell me how i can fix it. i’ll do anything.”
“it’s…nothing you can do,” you say, turning away from him. it's most definitely not in his control, but it’s not your fault for loving him, either.
“how will you know if you don’t try?”
“you just know some things, cheol. trust me on that.”
“yeah? like i know you’re hiding something from me right now? something that’s eating my best friend up, and i don’t even know what to do to help?”
again. those two words. they tear you up from the inside just as much as they hold you together. you can’t help the sharp feeling in your throat which indicates tears might be on the way. you're just frustrated at the unfairness of it all. if only life was a little kinder.
seungcheol, ever perceptive, notices immediately. “sweetheart? it’s something i did, isn’t it? something i said?”
you shake your head, not wanting tears to well up.
“don’t lie to me,” he says, draping the jacket over your shoulders and pulling you into his embrace. you push him away, even though you whole body wants nothing more than to be with him.
“please tell me?”
you take in a breath, the cold night air stinging your nose. “you said something.”
“what was it?”
“you said it wouldn’t make a…difference, if i was your date,” you say, focusing so much on not crying that your voice is barely audible to your own ears. “you said it like no one would care if we were together. like it wouldn’t affect you in any way. like i’m just…your best friend. and no one can see me as anything more.”
seungcheol sucks in a sharp breath. “can i hold you? please?”
you almost refuse, but decide otherwise. you’ve spilled out your mind to him, anyway. the least you deserve is a hug from him.
“i’m so fucking sorry,” he breathes into your hair, his arms looped around your waist and holding you close to him. “i didn’t— i’d never say something like that. that’s not what i meant when i said it.”
“then what did you,” mean, you mean to ask, but your breath gets swept away when he presses a kiss to your head.
“it’s just…everyone knows how close we are,” he says, hand gently running up and down your back. “i thought people wouldn’t bat an eye if they assumed we were dating, you know. i know people who already think we are. or…that we should.”
you look up at him at that. he looks serious about what he’s saying, but also shy, like he doesn’t want you looking at him when he’s speaking.
“people?”
“some of my close friends.”
that's news to you. “so you don’t mind…people thinking we’re a thing? or thinking we should be?”
“of course not,” he says, holding you with one hand and tracing your cheekbone with the other. you fall for him just a bit more, right there. “anyone would be lucky to have you. i’d be the luckiest guy to have you.”
he just says things like that, and it makes you wonder if he really means them. so you decide to push him this time, and see where it goes. and blame it on your nerves and the drink you never had if things don’t go well. “would you?”
“want to have you?”
you nod, breath trapped in your throat.
“yeah,” he breathes out, leaning forward and tucking his chin in your shoulder.
you swear your world stops for just a second. you’re hardly even aware that he’s leaning on you now.
"yeah as in?"
“i’d like you to take you out for a real date. if you’ll let me.”
you pull away to look at seungcheol. he’s blushing, but he’s not looking away.
"if i'll let him, he says."
"well?" seungcheol lifts a hand to fix your hair.
“this isn’t a joke?”
he steps back and rubs his face, probably in an attempt to brace himself for whatever he wants to say. it doesn’t work. you like him like this, you think. with his hair messy and his eyes shy.
“of course not. i’d never joke about something like this. especially when it’s you.”
you should be the one who's shy and blushing, and yet there's nowhere else you'd rather look. “what made you…”
seungcheol takes your hands. they're a warm contrast to your cold ones. “i’ve been wrestling with it for a while, and i never told you because i didn’t want things between us to be weird. but i couldn’t keep faking it after i saw you tonight. you look so good, it’s been killing me.”
you shake him off to loop your arms around his neck and pull him down to you, feeling a bit braver. “so if i told you i wanted to leave right now…”
he swallows loud enough for you to hear. “we’d be out of here right now.”
you stand on your tiptoes to bring yourself to his height and place a little kiss on his nose.
he pouts. “that’s it? that’s all i get after confessing to you?”
“i don’t want our first kiss to be in front of an audience, cheol.”
seungcheol smiles. “fair. but i don’t know how much longer i can wait now.”
“you’re going to have to ask me out for real, you know.”
“but you haven’t told me you like me back yet,” seungcheol says. you can hear the whine in his voice and it makes you laugh a bit.
“you need to hear me say it?”
“of course i do! i've spent weeks thinking about tonight.”
“aren't you lucky, then?" you tease.
“the luckiest,” he says solemnly.
it's your turn to blush now.
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taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi
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moonydustx · 22 days
Text
I look better under you
Based on the song Snooze - Sza
Roronoa Zoro x F!Reader
Warnings: smut, mentions of scars, jealousy. Doesn't exactly follow plot canon.
Summary: After two years apart after the incident with Kuma in Sabaody, you and Zoro meet again.
A/N: I was thinking about doing some stories based on songs, especially in the future using one from Cowboy Carter for Ace because it makes so much sense to me. While that doesn't happen, we're left with Snooze, which is one of my favorites from Sza.
requests open | one piece masterlist
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Long as you dreamin' 'bout me, ain't no problem
I don't got nobody, just with you right now
Tell the truth, I look better under you
I can't lose when I'm with you
How can I snooze and miss the moment?
You just too important
Nobody do body like you do
Your body itched when you saw a handful of greenish hair appearing on the horizon of the Sabaody archipelago. It was two long years without seeing each other, without talking, without the little escapades in the crow's nest where you spent hours tangled up in each other. Before you could prepare to talk to him, Sanji and Luffy also appeared in your field of vision, running in some direction you hadn't noticed yet.
"Let's go!" Luffy passed you who immediately started running to keep up with them.
"Finally a beautiful and real woman." Sanji's eyes practically threw hearts in your direction. "So beautiful, so fragrant, so..."
For a few seconds you thought Zoro was going to complain about Sanji, like they always did, but he remained quiet just as he didn't show any reaction when he saw you.
Your companions didn't know about the little escapades the two of you had and for a long time it was what made sense to you. Until your eyes witnessed Kuma erase Zoro's existence before your eyes, at least that's what you believed for a while.
"Isn't that the pretty girl from Thriller Bark?" Sanji caught your attention. A few meters away you recognized the pink hair and the gothic style.
The woman's face was almost glued to Zoro's as she yelled at him. Too close to be just a coincidence. "Why haven't you left here yet?" "I brought you here for nothing." Perhaps your vision was obstructed by the anxiety of being back - which now became a bitterness on your lips. Apparently the two years passed differently for him.
Ignoring the confused feelings, you and your companions ran towards the Sunny and before the navy even thought about reaching you, the ship was already sailing towards the next island.
"It's so good to have everyone back!" Nami hugged you tightly in a hug. "Come on, tell me what you were doing this whole time."
Islands with carnivorous plants, strange laboratories, giant birds, a castle with a certain girl with pink hair. Zoro was sitting next to you. As they listened to everyone talk, something about his posture seemed to show some discomfort in being there.
Everyone seemed to accumulate stories and adventures to tell and despite the small puddle of hurt that accumulated in you, you were happy to see your friends again.
"And you." Robin turned towards you. "What challenges have you encountered?"
"I went to a village that was being attacked by venomous insects. We had to keep shooting at them all the time and maybe that improved my aim." You took one of the small knives from your waistband and threw it past the small gap between Nami's neck and hair.
"Shown off." Zoro murmured next to you, attracting your attention for a brief second.
"Did the animals do this?" Usopp pointed to your arm.
Attracting everyone's eyes, you turned your arm, showing the scars that started on your fingers and went almost to the height of your shoulder.
"No." you smiled sympathetically as the shooter looked on attentively. "Let's just say not everyone on this island was nice or interested in the end of the demonic insects."
The others nodded and it didn't take long for them to engage in another story, paying attention to all the news. Even though you weren't looking in his direction, you could feel yourself being watched the entire time.
After a long conversation, everyone decided to explore Sunny. Review what they left behind, prepare for the next challenges. Before you could do the same, you felt an arm pulling you towards one of the rooms.
"What the hell is this." you saw Zoro in your field of vision. One of his hands closed the door and the other rested on the side of your head.
"It's been so long." he murmured, his face seeking the direction of your lips. Begrudgingly, you dodged his kiss. "What?"
He tried again and saw you repeat the gesture. It took his brain a few seconds to process all the possibilities.
He tried again and saw you repeat the gesture. It took his brain a few seconds to process all the possibilities.
"I understand." he started walking away. "Two years is too long, I understand that maybe you found someone else."
"I did this?" The tone of his voice was shrill and full of indignation. "Says the guy who was with the goth girl there. Did you enjoy your enchanting romance in an incredible castle?"
"Are you crazy?" Zoro analyzed you for a few seconds, seeing how safe it was to approach you. His hands found your chin and when you tried to move away from his touch, Zoro held on even tighter. "You know I had nothing to do with her. You know no one is like you."
Your own hands found his and went up to your face, relief was written on your face. Gently, one of your fingers traced the scar that closed his eye.
"Who made this?" you whispered, wanting to hold that little moment between the two of you.
"No one that matters now." He turned his face, kissing one of your hands. His gaze soon reached your immense scar. "About what you said outside, who was the bastard that hurt you?"
"No one that matters now." You smiled, enjoying his touch on your face. "You know I hate her, don't you?"
"Perona?"
"I wish I had killed that bitch in Thriller Bark!" you grumbled, earning a laugh from Zoro.
He wanted to kiss you, heavens he wanted to be able to take you there but he had missed hearing you too much and seeing your eyes shining in his direction. Everything else could wait.
"You only say that because she was playing with the ghosts and you."
"Exactly." your hands went down to the back of his head, pulling him closer. "I'd kill that bitch again just to think of her stealing what's mine."
You could feel Zoro's laughter almost on your skin, given the proximity. "So jealous" he murmured and before his lips stole yours, the two of you were interrupted when you were thrown from the door and the presence of a euphoric Luffy appeared.
"Let's eat! Sanji is going to make a huge feast for you and us." he pulled you by the shoulders. "Can you get your knife between Brook's ribs, say yes, please."
"Does he know you want to do this?" you asked him, taking advantage of Zoro's support to stand up.
"He said he'll accept it, if you let him see the color of your panties." Luffy spoke with a naturalness that brought laughter from you and a groan from the swordsman.
"He won't see, but..." you warned, tugging at the waistband of your pants. "It's pink, with white polka dots." Brook's scream outside indicated that he had heard the entire conversation and had probably combusted.
"Hit his head." Zoro grumbled, leaving the room before you.
A lot of thrown knives, a huge feast made by Sanji - and considering that Luffy ate more than half of it claiming he missed the food the cook made. You watched some of your friends retreat to your quarters.
"Has anyone seen Zoro?"
"He said he would be upstairs if anyone needed him." Chopper warned you and you thanked him, leaving him behind.
Knowing he would probably be alone, you walked up the stairs to the crow's nest and entered unceremoniously. Zoro was lying down, contemplating the ceiling.
"I thought it would take longer." He stood up, coming towards you.
"It's just that everyone is going to sleep, I think we can talk properly now." the words barely had space to leave your lips before Zoro reached you and crashed his lips into yours.
Your hands were against his chest and even though you wanted to move away to at least try to talk before finding out what happened during this time outside, Zoro's lips took yours in an intoxicating way. Honey, drinks and longing mixed in your mouths.
"We can talk later." he murmured, almost reading your thoughts. "I just miss you."
"Me too." your lips heaved as you felt his arms lift you so that your legs were wrapped around his.
Such a movement was made only so that Zoro could take you to the ground in a strange delicacy on his part. The green threads became your fingers' favorite path while his hands removed the few pieces of clothing that your body still had.
"No one that matters now?" he traced some scars that adorned your back and watched you twitch. "I'll still kill the bastard."
"This someone is no longer here for you to take revenge on." you took his lips as a distraction for your hands to slide over the shoulders hidden in the kimono.
"That's my girl."
Scars, bruises, nothing would take away the pleasure of Zoro's contemplation. The long two years didn't really seem that long until he saw you. How can you wait so long? How did he not go crazy and come back even if he swam to Sabaody?
"Hi greenie." You caught his attention by letting your hands caress his cheek. "Are you ok babe?"
"You are so beautiful." The words came out suddenly as if it were common for you to hear that every day.
If it were up to him alone, he would make a point of repeating that all night and for the rest of the next nights as well. Your eyes looking down at him asking for attention to your body, your legs closing against his body, small sighs as you felt him touch you. You underneath him was one of the best sights Zoro would have for the rest of his life.
His lips traced every contour of your skin. Every shiver was swallowed by a kiss, every shiver was trapped between his lips. The damp fabric of your panties didn't last long as a hindrance to the swordsman who turned you into tatters. It was like enjoying a feast after years of scarcity, drinking the divine honey that flowed from you.
"Still delicious." "I missed you so much."
Zoro couldn't contain a light laugh when he saw you cover your mouth with both hands, avoiding the screams that hit your body as you poured yourself onto his lips. Your waist took on a life of its own with the sensitivity of your pussy against his tongue.
Without any effort, Zoro turned you around and, handling you, placed your body on top of him, in a lotus position. His cock brought friction against your clitoris, your belly burning with pure anxiety and his hands made your hips move against him without even penetrating you. Your lips already hurt from the pressure you used to not let any noise escape.
"Let me hear you, please." One of his hands caught your hair, placing your head against the back of his neck. "Moan just for me baby. I need to hear you."
"Zoro, fuck, don't torture me. Just fuck me, please."
Hearing you beg was the closest thing a devil like him would get to heaven. Wrong, so wrong. Feeling your pussy contract with every inch he put in, that was paradise.
Despite feeling like you could explode at any moment, you moved slowly, not wanting the night to end. The grips against your ass, the eager hands pressing you against the base of his cock. Neither of them seemed to be able to last long.
The peak reached you first, your lips against the sweaty back of your neck, your fingers prickling the green strands begging for more and more, it was enough for Zoro to sink his teeth into your soft skin, containing his own moans and filling you up.
He lay down, still keeping himself inside you and allowing you to lay against his chest.
"You have new ones too." Your fingers traced some new scars.
"You don't like them?"
"Still beautiful, as always. Zo?"
" What do you need, sweet?"
"I know it wasn't our choice, but... Promise that if we get separated again, we'll find a way and find each other." Your eager eyes drew a sigh from the man, who pressed you even tighter against his embrace.
"This is the easiest promise I've ever made."
The sun began to rise when you could no longer keep your eyes open. With your body tied to Zoro's and covered by his kimono, without worrying if anyone would arrive, the two of you both took a snooze.
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Text
Moll
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❥ Choi San x fem reader
SPOOKTOBER SPECIAL
➯a/n: i've been watching waaaaay too much 1920s drama sooooooo (i went way overboard, i feel liek i wrote a movie)
✃ moll; a mobsters girl, circa 1920s
✫彡wordcount: 6.2k
(✯◡✯)(>ᴗ•)genre: 1920s mafia au, plot heavy smut
ಠ_ಠwarning/content: mentions of drugs, violence, threatening with a gun(safety was on lol), kidnapping, forced marriage, forced affection, stockholm syndrome, pregnancy, murder(not descriptive at all), NSFW; virginity loss, unprotected (NO DO THAT🫵🏻), possessiveness to the max, breeding kink
not proof read
✩ index: dope; drugs, specifically cocaine or heroin. bent; drunk. bump you off; murder. bearcat; a feisty woman. vamp; an aggressive flirt. flat-tire; a bore. punch the bag; talk. dame, doll, bunny, water-proof; a (attractive) woman. holding a torch; having a crush. get in a lather/ get lathered up; get worked up or angry. skin; condom. get a wiggle on; leave quickly.
⁂taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg
MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI
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"Where's the money?"
    "That's all of it! Please, Mister-"
  The echoing slap across the room makes you cringe from your hiding place in the pantry. It's nothing new. Your family had been mixed up in all kinds of shenanigans and you had witnessed a great deal of them. But it always hurts when they come back to haunt you.
      You cup your hand over your mouth to muffle your scared breath, trying desperately put your mind in a better place. Anywhere but here.
   "I gave you more than enough time. Don't you think?"
   "Nobodies buying, please Mr. Choi! You have to understand, I tried. I went from corner to corner to corner," your older brother pleads.
    He isn't lying either. The drugs that the mafia had provided him to sell- well, they weren't selling. No body had the money. If they did, they only bought the smallest amount and resold it at a higher price.
    It wasn't his fault the country was in a depression.
     "It- I still have the dope stored away! Just in the back shed, you can have it back! May-maybe someone up North can have better lu-ah!"
     A dull thud.
     And another.
    And another.
     A crash. Your brothers body hitting the floor no doubt.
     "You gon' tell me how to peddle my own product now? I don't think so! Are you bent? Huh?" His voice gets louder with each insult hurled at your brother. "You skim a little of the top, is that it? I oughta bump you off!"
     You can't help the small gasp that exits your shaking lips, and you immediately recognize your mistake as it goes silent in the home. Only your brothers ragged breathing and the thrumming of your anxious heart reaching your ears.
    "Mr. Ch-"
   "Shut your kisser! Who's here with us?"
   "N-Nobody! No! No, no, wait-"
    Light floods the small room you've sought safety in, and that false sense of security shatters the second you see the man attached to the threatening voice.
      He's a cop.
    He's got a badge and a gun and authority. He's supposed to be someone safe. Instead, he's got knuckles blooded with your kin and a smirk on his stubbled face.
     His wide shoulders block the light, casting his silhouette over you like a storm cloud.
     You've cowered into the corner, skirt pulled over your trembling knees as you scoot further away. Wide eyes looking up at him, silently pleading.
     "Why you hidin', vamp?"
      "Please, Mr.Choi, she don't know from nothing!"
     You glance past the man -Mr.Choi- 's neat slacks, and see your brothers face messed with blood, dripping onto the floor from his nose. He's pulling himself up slowly, kneeling on the hardwood.
    "Get up," Mr.Choi nods his head at you, and you immediately follow his order, afraid to test his nerves further. "Help this goof up." You lower your head, slowly approaching the man who stays in the doorway. "Now, we ain't got all day!"
    You rush past him and kneel, wrapping your arms under his and pulling him up with a grimace, "c'mon, Bub, get up."
     The man watches you heave him up, leaning against the wall with his hand on his hip holster in case you decide to get brave. "Bub's done got you mixed up in something real risky, girl. What do you know?"
    "Don't know nothin', Mister. Mind my own." You feign some semblance of calm. You lower your brother onto a chair, and he nearly falls onto the dinner table before you catch his head. "You had to knock him on the head?"
     He chuckles, slowly stalking around the room, "don't get mouthy, Bearcat." He takes a seat at the head of the table, pointing to the chair opposite of him. "Sit."
     You lower his dizzy head to rest on the table before taking the seat he pointed to, folding your hands in your lap and lowering your head. "I never touched your dope, I don't mess with that."
    He slowly places his gun on the table, fingers lingering over it. He studies you- eyes never leaving. "How much of the beans has he spilled to you?"
     "I don't know what you mean-"
     "Oh, sure."
    You look up, and you regret floods your veins. He's sizing you up. Face completely void of emotion. Shoulders slack and relaxed like he isn't ready to shoot you at a moments notice. "Punch the bag, now. Before I shoot off your Bubs knee cap." He cocks his gun.
     "Okay! Okay, listen-" you gulp, looking back down, "all he's ever told me is that he gets some products and sells them, gives you the money and you give him a cut. That's it! That's all I know, really. Don't know where you get it or nothin'. I can keep my trap shut."
     "You don't go to the corners with him?"
      "Nev-"
     "If I show your face at the station, nobody gonna recognize you?"
    "No," you look up again, "everyone knows I'm a good girl, Officer."
     He lets out an amused chuckle, rubbing his brow. "You tugging my leg?"
     "No. I'm not a drug peddler. I'm a secretary. I volunteer at the soup kitchen. I babysit-"
     Your anxious babbling to get yourself out of your brothers trouble is interrupted when Mr.Choi, suddenly behind you, grips the back of your neck and pushes your head to the table. Your eyes meet your brothers drowsy ones, tears quickly filling up in both. "Please, she's tellin' the truth! I ain't even tell her I was selling till you called last minute! She's innocent!"
      "I don't like liars!" He shouts, making you jump under his harsh grip, "I asked you if we were alone the moment I walked in this dump! You're a little sneak, aye? How do I know you didn't hide her to gather intel on me? Get me fired and kicked out? Get yourself a little raise? How do I know she's even your sister? She could be a snake! Tell me the truth, now!"
     The cool metal of his gun touches your temple, and the sobs you've been holding back fall out of your lips loudly. "Bub, tell him!"
     "Tell me, Bub!" He mocks you, pressing the barrel deeper into the back of your head.
     "That's the truth! I sell your dope by myself and she doesn't know nothing about it! Please, she's all I have!" He's growing more and more frantic, head heavy as he lifts it to look Mr.Choi in the eyes, "I'll find a way! I'll go up North myself, I-I'll take a dimebox to Iafeild o-or," he himself is crying now, watching helplessly as he tugs you out of your chair. "Please, she's all I have!"
      He pushes you to the floor and watches you scramble, kicking your knees out from under you, albeit gently, it makes you fall face first. He lowers himself in a squat, watching you with a certain amusement you curl up on yourself. "Well why didn't you just say so!" He clips his gun back on his hip and smirks as you both let out a sigh of relief.
Mr.Choi doesn't leave just yet, however.
He straddles your back and flips you over, gripping your chin as it trembles. Pulls your face close to his and inspects you. Your tears wet his fingers. "Hmm, can't blame me for being suspicious. She's water-proof and you," he looks over at the table and chuckles, "well you're just a dog."
He stands and extends his hand for you, rolling his eyes as you ignore it. "Get up, Doll." He groans, pulling you to your feet, "go pack a bag."
"W-"
"She's not goin' with you," your brothers brief bravery is shut down the second the copper reaches for his gun again, "I- I mean why?"
"You," Mr.Choi points to him, "are gonna go to Iafeild and sell all of the shit I gave you like you should have done two months ago. And she," he wraps his arm around your shoulders with a cocky grin, "is gonna be your encouragement to get me my money. If you aren't back with all of it in... three weeks, say? Little sis' here is gonna take the big sleep." He ignores you as you cry harder, simply glaring at your brother. "Capiche?"
He nods frantically, looking away as you look to him with pleading eyes. There's nothing he can do. This is bigger than him. He's got messed up with the wrong crowds and now you have to pay the price as well.
     "Put a pep in your step, clock starts tonight."
He opens the car door, watching silently as you peek your head out before your body follows.
You clutch your bag close to your chest, still sniffling and sobbing quietly. Your kitten heels click on the cement, messed curls blowing with the October winds.
"Follow me," he guides you by the small of your back, shockingly gentle with your shaking form. "Don't pull any tricks, Doll." He leads you up the stairs of the secluded farm house, opening up the screen door and ushering you in.
      "San, Finally!" A voice booms from inside the home, making you squeak. When you turn to go back out the door, you collide with Mr.Choi, who you gather must be San, 's chest. "Was starting to think- oh! Who's the dame?"
    "This," he turns you by your shoulders and tilts your head up to face the man who's descending the stairs, "is Mr. (L/n)'s sister. She's staying for a bit while her brother sorts out some business upstate." You can almost feel his smirk in the way he speaks.
      The other man, who's finally come face to face with you, seems a great deal less threatening than San.
"Tsk," he rolls his eyes at San, "sure thing, fella. You just went and found yourself a Moll."
"A Moll? Sure, she's cute but she seems a bit flat-tire, no? Not exactly the type of woman I go for."
"She's exactly the type you go for, you're trying to get her in the bag! Lost bunny is your type."
"Oh, take a hike, Hwa!"
You go back and forth looking at them in confusion as they bicker, hugging your bag to your chest tightly. You don't know what a 'Moll' is but you do know you don't want to be Mr. Chois. You simply tune them out and stare at the floor blanky, tears still flowing.
        "If you're not holding a torch, why didn't you kill him like we planned?"
    "Well-" His words die on his tongue as he looks over at you. You do look like a lost bunny. Making yourself small between them and letting your tears flow as a defense mechanism. He won't admit it, especially aloud. But you are exactly the woman he's been looking for. "Oh, hell," he pulls a blue handkerchief from his pocket and shoves it into your hand, "stop crying so much. Not gonna hurt you."
      Very hard to believe after his threats, but you try your hardest to stop the onslaught of warm tears. You wipe your face with the fabric and sniffle quietly, coming back to your own body as Seonghwa extends his hand slowly.
      "I'm Seonghwa, 'can call me Hwa if you like. I'll be lookin' after you when San here is busy. Let's get along well."
     You shake his hand gently and croak out a simple, "(Y/n)."
The rest of the day passed quickly, locked up in a bedroom while San and Hwa could still be heard downstairs, which only served to add to your anxieties. It felt as if at any second they would change their mind and come up to bump you off.
You busied yourself doing what San told you to before he locked the door behind him. 'Unpack and get cozy.' Though that latter wasn't as easy as hanging your few dresses in the oak closet and putting your hairbrush in the nightstand, awkwardly placing your products in the corner of the attached bathroom. Especially after you pieced things together.
There was an array of suits and slacks hanging in the closet. Shiny loafers on the floor. A clip of bullets in the nightstand. A roll of condoms. A stash of cash in a duffle bag on the hook behind the door. A pack of cigarettes and matches on the window sill. A bottle of cologne that smelled suspiciously like Mr. Chois car.
This was Sans room they had locked you in.
You had long took a seat on the windowsill and dangled your legs out of it, debating how badly it would hurt if you decided to fall and try to make a run for it. You came to the conclusion that it was useless. It took fourty minutes to get here from the city. The last home you passed being 20 of those away.
The lock on the door clinked loudly, and it opened slowly. You turned and looked over your shoulder, and it wasn't a surprise that San was the one you faced.
"Hungry, Doll?" He shuts the door with his foot as he carefully enters with a plate in hand. He doesn't seem alarmed by your hazardous seating choice, probably because he doesn't take you for a fool that will break their ankles trying to jump from the third story.
"No," you mutter, turning back around and facing the setting sun without another word or pleasantry his way.
"Don't let it get cold, I reheated it just for you."
"Too bad. Not hungry."
He comes behind you and rests his palms on either side of your hips, chest pressing to your back as he looks out at natures expanse. "Pretty, ain't it?"
When he doesn't get anything resembling a response, he tries again. "It's my own property. Worked in that barn everyday until I became a cop."
He's met with silence. "Plan to share it with my wife one day."
Nothing. "I know you think I'm a monster but I am just a man."
"A man who had a gun to my head..."
"A man who's just trying to survive a war and a pandemic. You'll get that one day. I don't mean no harm until harm comes for me."
A silence washes over you both for a moment.
"Will you shoot me if my brother doesn't sell all your dope?"
"No."
And again. His soft breath, your anxious ones.
"Then why am I here?"
It's his turn to be silent. He backs away from you and sits on the bed, watching you as you sit still like a statue. You watch the sun disappear like a motion picture of art. A certain peace overcoming you for the briefest moment.
"Because you will be that wife that I share with."
And peace shattered by Choi San once again.
You head snaps in his direction, falling back into the house from the windowsill with a thud. You both stare at one another. San stares with an unreadable expression. Yours of pure horror and confusion. "What?!"
"I'll drop business with your brother for good. Clear all his debt with the boys. Give him all of the cash he gets from this last... adventure. He'll be well off and so will you. I'll make a good, honest woman of you."
"Y-" Yours brain is officially thrown into a panic, an overdrive of emotions, and it all tumbles out before you can stop it. "You have to be off your rocker! You're insane! I already am a good, honest woman! Go chase yourself, I'm not marrying you- you- what? No! No!"
"You 'aven't got much choice in the matter, Doll. Don't get yourself in a lather."
"Don't get- oh, I am lathered up, Mr.Choi! I oughta smack some sense into you, demanding a girls hand in marriage like it's still 1890! It's nineteen-twen-"
He smacks the sense into you before you can to him.
"Oh God," you sob, holding your stinging cheek as tears build up in your waterline. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry," you lower your head. Thinking, surely, you just dug your own grave. "Please-"
"This is exactly why I chose you," he crouches in-front of your crumpled form and tilts your head up, "a dame who appears like a lost bunny but has the soul of a beast."
You simply stare up at him, deathly afraid to move or speak in fear of letting your anger and sadness slip again.
"Got somethin' to say?"
You gulp before nodding your head in his hold.
"Go on."
"I don't w-want to marry a mobster... I don't want to be involved with dirty money! A corrupt copper..."
He chuckles softly, rubbing his thumb over your untainted cheek. "You should be thanking me, Doll... That dirty money? Been putting a roof over your head for three years. Corrupt copper? Well, he even had the decency to have the safety on his gun while pointing it at your pretty head. Mobster? Willing to put a ring on your finger and give you a nice home."
The tears start free falling as your situation fully sinks in. There really is no way out. You'll end up in the ground if you don't let him put a ring on it.
"So, I'll say it again," he grips the back of your neck, squeezing ever so slightly, "you should be thankin' me."
"T-thank you."
"Attagirl," he lets go of you completely, letting you fall back to the floor, "now eat."
He let you be that night, and you didn't see him the next morning either. It was Seonghwa who came to the door, and you didn't know if you should feel relieved or not.
"Hey, Miss," He spoke softly, staying just outside of the doorway. "I heard what happened... I'm sorry."
He seemed genuine enough. You sat down your hairbrush and turned on the small stool. Your eyes puffy and red from the lifetimes worth of crying you did last night.
"Uhm, so San wants us to go to town and pick out some fabrics for your weddin' gown. If you aren't up for it, I can pick them out myself."
"Will he be going with us?"
"No, just you and I."
You were sick and tired of smelling San every time you tried to take a deep breath, and that's how you ended up here.
It's less overwhelming than being in that farmhouse that seems to be your prison for now and for forever to come. But overwhelming nonetheless.
Hwa is talkative. But you don't mind. He treats you well. Like an equal. He doesn't talk down to you like many men do. And that, you very much appreciate.
He tells you of how he feels it's unfair you have no saying in your future, his heart is heavy with sadness that he cannot help you. And he tells that to your face. He will not help you. He is loyal to San. But that doesn't mean you can't be friends.
You seem to share life stories with one another the entire car ride there. And then he already feels like an old friend as he holds up fabrics to your skin to see which compliments you best. You, admittedly, aren't as into it as he is. As much as a bride should be. But then, how could you when you were picking things out for the day that would solidify your future with a mobster?
You both settle on one that, you will admit, made your heart flutter when you imagined yourself in. And then you're on your way, but Seonghwa stops the vehicle halfway through town.
"What are we doing?" You look out of the window and your heart stops in your chest as you see that he's parked infront of the police station. "No, Hwa! You promised I wouldn't have to see him."
"I'm sorry, Miss (Y/n)... he said he wanted to see what you picked afterwards. It will be quick."
You take a few deep breaths without San's cologne smothering you, then you swing the door open and follow after Hwa.
Sans broad shoulders aren't hard to pinpoint in the semi-packed station. "Ah, my beautiful fiancée!" He perks up immediately as he spots you and his friend.
What he does next absolutely floors you.
He cups both of your cheeks, and kisses you deeply. Right out in the open. Hot lips on yours.
You grip his wrists, face flushed with heat as he pulls away, bending down slightly to rest his forehead on yours. "Did you pick a pretty fabric for our special day?"
The look in his eyes seems almost innocent from far away. He's already got everyone in the room convinced that you're a willing participant of this relationship. But you, up close and personal, can see the glint of silent threats in his eyes- telling you to keep up the act or face the consequences.
"Uhm, uh-huh," you move slight to the side and look to Hwa, who's head is down slightly for a spilt second before he smiles at you and San and holds out the roll of fabric.
"Oh, Doll, what a good choice! No doubt you will look jaw-dropping," he runs his fingers over the fabric, imaging the pure beauty that you will be. "You'll make it extra good, right, Hwa? Only the best for my girl."
" 'Course, San. We're gonna work on some sketches when we get home." His smile is genuine, like he looks forward to it.
"Officer Choi! Hate to interrupt but we got a hold-em-up at the bank," another officer passes in a hurry, stopping briefly to congratulate you both.
"Ah," he clicks his tongue, rubbing his hands on your side gently, "wish me luck?"
"Good luck..." He looks like he's waiting for more. You gulp and force a smile, almost gagging on the words you conjure up, "good luck, Baby."
    The days after that first one passed almost like groundhog day. You awoke with San nearly laid ontop of you. Bathed and made breakfast. Worked with Hwa on your gown until it was completed. Walked around the farm and conversed with the farm-hand. Cooked and had a semi-awkward dinner with the three of them. Talked and became closer with San, slowly becoming happier with your situation.
   And then all too suddenly...
It's two days short of three weeks since you've been 'brought home', as San likes to say. Which means one very big thing.
      You are to be married. 
   It's a small affair, but beautiful nonetheless.
    You can quickly tell that only one side of San's life is invited. There is not a badge to be seen as you peer out of the window, only gangster after gangster taking their seat.
    Hwa finishes buttoning up your gown and steps back, smiling at you like a proud family member. "Ready, Miss?"
     "Ready as I'll ever be."
      Hwa walks you down the aisle.
     And then it's a blur.
    How did your get back in your bedroom? Was the ceremony already over?
It seems to have happened in a flash.
You stand infront of the window again. All of the guests have either left or have taken up in one of the many guest rooms in the home. San no doubt offered them up so that he could have witness to what was about to happen.
Your wedding night. Oh, how special and magical a day.
San slides his hands up your back, landing on your tall collar and skillfully unbuttoning it. Slowly, almost teasingly. His words send a shiver down your spine, they set your hairs on edge: "you are so beautiful, my Dear... it took everything in me not to take you right there in the aisle. I've never wanted anyone, or anything, as badly as I want you."
     Your breath hitches in your throat as his soft lips come in contact with your now exposed neck. It not the first time he's left adoring kisses on your body. But somehow it feels different as husband and wife. "San..."
    "Yes, Doll?"
    "I... I'm a virgin."
   "I know, Doll. Tell me to stop and I shall, but... I want to make you feel good like only a husband can. I want to show you my love in physical form." His hands slide into the now open back of your dress, around to your breasts. "Only I can touch you. Only you can touch me. Do you understand that?"
    A breathless 'yes' trembles out of your lips as he cups your bosom. The little moan that follows has his hard member throbbing, so ready to finally claim you. He presses it to the round of your ass, and you have to hold back a gasp, simply letting your mouth gape as you look out at the dark night sky. But when his calloused finger tips roll over your hardened nipples, you can't bite back the curse of pleasure that bubbles in your throat.
"Oh, you poor bunny," he whispers in your ear, "you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into." The warmth of him slowly dissipates, and the tell-tale sound of the stool in the room dragging on the floor makes you turn around. "Drop your gown, let me see my wife in her full glory."
Heat burns on your cheeks, of embarrassment or arousal you can't quite tell at the moment. He's shed his fanciest uniform jacket and is now working on his button up, his cock straining against his slacks.
"You ever seen a man's prick?" He smirks as he catches you staring. Your eyes don't leave his lap as you take off your white kitten heels. That is, until he calls you out.
"No," your eyes drop to the ground as you neatly arrange your shoes, "never..."
"Mine will be the first? Mm, first and only," he half hazardly tosses his shirt, leaving his chest bare. Scars and toned muscle on full display for you. "Catch up, Dollface."
You step out of your gown carefully, holding it to your chest to hide yourself. "What if I'm not... pretty enough?"
"Oh, my wife can't possibly disappoint. I've seen that silhouette while you shower." He tilts his head and smiles, a soft smile. "You'll be my first as well."
     You swear your eyes have bugged out of your head the way he chuckles at your expression. "Really?"
     He stands, gently unraveling your fingers tight grip on the white fabrics. "Really, and I don't want to wait any longer. I want it to be with you. It will be with you." You let him take the fabric, and he drapes it on the stool carefully without ever taking his eyes off of you.
    "W-what about the skins in our drawer?"
   "So I don't make a mess while I fuck myself thinking about all of the dirty things I want to do with my wife."
    "Oh-" You swear you're running a fever. You've never felt this way before- but then, you imagine you'll be feeling many firsts tonight.
     "Would you like to hear about them?" He grins, his signature shit-eating-grin, as he guides your hands to his belt. You fiddle with it with a small nod, slowly pulling it off of him as he speaks. "I've got you laid down on our bed, legs spread..." You unbutton his slacks. "Touching, exploring what's mine." His zipper is undone next. "I take my time, make you nice and wet." His bottoms are gone. "I hold your hands." His boxers go after them. "And then I fuck you on my cock." 
    And he did exactly that. That's how you got here.
     Hours of teasing later, his member is finally buried inside of you, stretching you like your fingers never could. He interlocks his fingers with yours as his hips withdrawn. Squeezes your hands tightly as he slowly sinks back in.
      "Oh God," you whisper, heels digging into the mattress as you arch beneath his built frame, "ah, Sannie."
    His hips stutter, mind overheating as the nickname reaches him. You feel... oh, you feel amazing. Like heaven on Earth. Your gummy, warm walls suck him in, so wet and inviting. He wants to bury himself in your cunt and never leave. "Fuck, Bunny, you feel fucking godly."
      Only a moan is his response, your head tossed to the side in embarrassment. "D-don't stop," you pant, squeezing his hands tighter as you gather the courage to- "please go faster." Oh, nevermind. Your mind has left and only your pussy's logic remains. And it's logic is- "Sannie, faster!"
   His thick, veiny shaft feels otherworldly as it drags against you. You need more. And he is happy to oblige. He quickens his pace, keeping his strokes languid and tender so as not to hurt you. But by God, he goes faster.
     "Ah! Ah, my God!" You cry into the night, uncaring as your pleasure echoes in the houses thin walls.
     Your noises, your facial expressions, your divine warmth around him. San feels that familiar coil tighten quickly, winding up. "Fuck, (Y/n), I'm gonna bust," he bites his lip, a loud moan vibrating his chest.
"C-close, I'm close, Sannie," you squeeze his fingers in yours, looking up beggingly, "please don't stop, ah- ah! Just like that! Nngh!" Your eyes roll back into your head, cunt clenching down on him like a vice, a gush of heat tells him you've just came around him, so he no longer holds back.
He hooks one of his legs around yours and pushes himself deeper than before, making you yell out in overstimulated ecstasy. And that primal yelp as he buries himself as deep as possible sends him over the edge, coil in his gut not only snapping- but burning to ash as he fills your womb with his release. "Fuck, fuck," he whines, rutting into you unable to move as your core clenches more than ever, refusing to let him go. "Mine," he growls out, leaning down and colliding his lips with yours passionately.
  
     Your body goes limp beneath him, your soft breaths fanning against his sweaty face as he pulls away from the kiss. He wraps his arms around your waist tightly and your jelly like arms wrap around his broad shoulders. "Mine, all fuckin' mine," he lowers his weight onto you slowly, and it makes his hard cock feel heavier than before. He ignores your whiny moans, resting his head on your chest. "My wife, filled with my seed. Mine, mine, mine," with each of his possessive proclamations comes a thrust of his hips. "Say it, say you're mine."
      "I'm yours," you whimper under his weight, blissed out beyond belief and in shock that -despite having filled you less than five minutes ago- he is already rock hard again and thrusting into you, slowly building his speed back up.
     "Louder," he demands, head pressed firmly to your chest and listening intently to your drumming heart beat.
    "I'm yours," you speak more confidently.
    "Louder," his pace has passed where you reached before, he's nearly drilling you with his cock.
    "Ah! Fuck!" You screech, nails digging into his skin, legs wrapping around his wildly thrusting hips instinctively.
    "Say it," his voice rumbles on your chest, sending vibrations through you as his thrust shake the bed, "fucking say it, tell everyone who you belong to."
     "I'm yours, San! Oh! San! Sannie! Baby!" Your brain has shut down, you're putty in his arms, babbling loudly. "Cumming!" You can't help but announce it to the farm, your pleasure has set you ablaze and everything is pointless besides San.
    He follows shortly after, his second release flooding your stretched walls and pushing his first out, making a mess of your sheets and pelvises.
     When he doesn't show any sign of slowing, you slap his shoulders repeatedly and let out a loud whine. He stills deep inside of you and pants into your chest, cock still throbbing inside of you.
    He's become insatiable.
     "Break, please," you slur, hands finding purchase in his disheveled hair. He melts into the drunken affection, eyes peering up at you with love and adoration... obsession in the comfort of your own home.
     He slowly pulls out of you, watching in awe as the pearly white of his love seeps out of you. He rubs your thighs in a soothing manner, taking a moment to catch his own breath.
     "D...do you feel good?" He looks up, almost like a lost puppy. You've never seen him so vulnerable.
      "God, yes," you smile at him dopily, propping yourself up on your elbows with a groan. He sits back, immediately locking his arms around you and pulling you into his lap. His scent blankets you, and you welcome it. Taking a deep breath.
     His member is messy with a mix of your juices, resting against your lower belly like it knows that's where it belongs. Showing you both how deep he reaches.
     The sight alone lights the fire in you again, now just as insatiable as he is.
     "I love you." The words that slip past your swollen lips shock the both of you, eyes meeting in an instant.
     The crickets outside chirp their song, stars and moon casting light through the window. A shooting star flies by.
    "I love you."
    There's a knock at the door. Strange. Anyone who needs in can get in. You trot down the stairs and stop halfway as your eyes meet your brothers through the screen door. "Bub?" You nearly trip over your feet as you jump down the rest of the steps, slinging the door open and wrapping your arms around him tightly. It been long past those three weeks San have him. Almost a year past.
     "Bub! Bubby!" He spins you around in his arms, nearly falling off of the porch.
     "Oh, thank God! You're alive!" Both of you have wide smiles, blissfully unaware as San turns the corner in his farming overalls. "Let's get a wiggle on, before Mr.Choi knows I'm here." San stops in his tracks, eyes trained on you.
     "Oh... Bub."
    "Let's get, c'mon." He goes to drag you by your arm to the awaiting car.
    "Stop! I'm not going with you."
    A smirk grows on Sans as a frown grows on your brothers. "N-not going? Don't be silly!"
    "Let go of me," you slap his hand away and when your hand falls back to your side, that's when he sees it.
    Your belly. Swollen with child.
     "(Y/n)..."
      You wrap your hands around your stomach protectively as his concerned look turns to a glare. "D-did he rape you? Dear Lord," his hand flies to his mouth in shock.
      "What!? No, no, nothing of the sort. San and-"
     "Hurry, before he gets back."
      "Before who gets back?" San grins wide as he joins your side, wrapping his arm around you and purposefully showing off the ring on his finger. "Long time, no see... Bub."
      His face so that of a ghost, backing away until he hits Hwa, who forces him to kneel.
      "You really left your poor helpless sister for dead?" The words that San speaks knocks the reality back into you. He did leave you. You'd been so happy with your new life that you'd forgotten entirely about what lead up to it. "I doubt you've even got my cash, huh?"
     "Mister, please! Surely you've forgiven me?"
    "I don't hold grudges... my wife is a different story, however." He turns to you with an innocent smile. "Honey?"
"Sissy... Tell me you didn't."
"I did." You dead pan. "You left me!" You land a slap harshly across his cheek. "Bastard!"
"Alright, Miss, don't put too much stress on the baby-" Hwa tries to calm you, but you've already gone off the deep end after being reminded of your life before San.
"I hate you!! You left me all alone! You threw me to the wolves! Where were you?!"
"Sis, just- just come home, you aren't thinking straight."
The cicada chirp loudly, nearly drowning out your next words.
"This is home. This is all I have. This is all I want."
"Sis, what has he-" Tears are welling up in your brothers eyes. And it pisses you off.
"I hate you! I never want to see you again, I hate your coward guts!"
San squeezes your shoulder gently and it brings you back to reality. Your brother is shaking as all of the realizations come crashing down on him. Hwa knows what's about to happen, he and San have talked about it a million times. He takes the gun from his belt and hands it over.
"My Moll has spoken."
Bang.
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writingsbychlo · 1 year
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when you hold me | azriel
summary; azriel doesn't realise quite how touch-starved he is until he finally gets a little bit of affection, and he loves it. word count; 17,202 notes; this is in bullet form. it is insanely long. I have no excuses.
so here’s the thing, azriel's love language is touch, okay?
he’s touch-starved and a physically affectionate person, but he got so used to being cast out that he really repressed that side of himself.
even when he didn’t have to anymore, he had a reputation to uphold, by then.
he's the shadowsinger. the spy. the illyrian brute. the night court terror. silent but deadly. moody and quiet. darkness personified.
not really someone who cuddles, y’know?
now, luckily for him, cassian and rhys have different reputations, and they’re both quite physically loving too, so he doesn’t have to let his need for physical attention show.
cassian is constantly touching him, and everyone.
so he really doesn't struggle to get affection there, he can pout and roll his eyes and frown as much as he wants, but he secretly loves it, and cassian secretly knows it.
all the hair ruffling, arms around shoulders that turn into a headlock, and dramatic leaning/falling into az that cassian does? az eats that shit up. loves it.
rhysand also does a lot of touching. he isn't so much an affectionate toucher; he just does it without realising.
a lot of pats on the shoulders, hugs, gently bumping him with a hand, elbow, or hip to get past, rhysand does a lot of general touches, but az loves that too.
mor has absolutely no sense of personal space, like none whatsoever. she plays with his hair when she thinks it needs styling better, and often lays down with her head in his lap when they have deeper chats, and she dances with him on nights out. if he's ever in urgent need of a little physical affection, he finds mor, because she'll just start touching him as soon as she sees him.
with nesta and elain, he often offers to fly them around, or 'winnow' them where they need to go, because they'll always hold onto him, even just for a few seconds.
going out with feyre means she always stays close to his side. if they go shopping, she links arms with him, grabs his wrist to drag him along when she sees something she likes, and often gets herself so tired out that by the end of the day, she is practically falling asleep on him as they walk home.
he realised that if he offers to sit and pose for her paintings, she'll mess with him and rearrange him until he's sat how she wants.
he purposefully never learned how to do his own tie so someone else would do it ("my hands are too big for fiddly little knots, alright?")
he often asks cass to help him do up the seals on the back of his leathers ("hurts my shoulder trying to reach round and do up the clasps on these damn things.")
he likes teaching people to train because they rely on him for form corrections, and he likes sparring with rhys and cass because that means a lot of wrestling and pushing and he can have fun with it.
basically, azriel takes any fucking scrap of physical affection he can get, in any way.
and then you step into his life.
it's a cold evening in the middle of the winter, and azriel is pouting a little on the couch, because nobody has touched him all day.
in fact, touch has been declining a lot lately.
nesta no longer needs him to fly her around, she has cassian wrapped around her finger.
mor spends most of her time with emerie, whom azriel actually rather likes, which is worse, because he can't even hate her.
elain has been spending most of her time travelling with lucien, and never needs him anymore.
feyre and rhys spend most of their time with nyx now, which he cannot begrudge them for.
and amren was never particularly touchy, he found solace in not feeling like the only lonely one, but now she has varian, and he hates how bitter his jealousy tastes when he sees how affectionate she truly is.
and he doesn't have anyone.
everyone is chatting, and drinking, and the door opens, and in come lucien and elain.
hand in hand, noses and cheeks red from the cold, and hair a little messy from the wind outside.
behind them is you.
azriel almost feels stupid for the way his heart jumps a little when he sees you, he meets new people every day, he's not supposed to be shy he's supposed to be scary, but he can't help it.
you have the same cold-bitten and wind-ruffled look, and yet, unlike the joy on the other two's faces, you're nervous. terribly so.
his ears feel like they're ringing as he watches elain and lucien get comfortable, your hands still stuck into your pockets and your gaze flickering over the room.
your eyes meet his for a second, just a single second, and you smile, but it's so stunning it stops him from being able to reciprocate it until you've moved on, scanning everyone else before fixing your gaze back on the redhead you arrived with.
he's introducing you, an arm wrapping around your shoulders to pull you into his side, and you chuckle a little as he does.
azriel's skin prickles a little with jealousy. why is it so easy for everyone else to get affection but him? he feels pathetic for even thinking this way.
(Y/N). friend from the autumn court. best friend. the girl who taught him how to heal. sticking around for a while.
he was still processing these words when lucien pushed you forward a little with a hand on your back, your scowl as you stumble, earning a chuckle from everyone else, and a friendly knuckle to the cheek from lucien. 
azriel’s gut twists achingly once again.
you go around, you're shaking hands and saying hello, and chatting to everyone, and just before you get to him, elain draws you into a conversation with her sisters. his hand curls into a fist, and he feels like a fucking child all over again.
is he really this worked up over a handshake? a handshake he didn't even get?
phantom feelings of sharp stone under his knees and the whistle of wind between cracks in the cell walls revisit him, when he'd long for the days the healer would come when he was a child to patch up his injuries, because at least the kind old woman who'd tended to him would pat his hair and wipe his cheeks when he cried.
his shadows swirl violently once, twice, as he thinks about it, and he stands before anyone can notice, chugging what's left of his drink and moving to the kitchen to make another.
he's leaning against the counter, staring into his own reflection in the whiskey when you knock at the doorway, forcing him to look up. he settles his usual stone mask over his face, instinct by now, and he raises a brow to prompt you.
"hello. I didn't get a chance to introduce myself before. I was worried you'd leave before I could. I'm (Y/N)."
"indeed, I heard." really? that's the best he could come up with? but the kitchen has started to smell faintly like cinnamon and burnt sugar, and his nose scrunches a little at the overly sweet smell, he's not used to anything like it. it makes it hard to think, it's almost dizzying.
you pause on the other side of the island, a small smile coming to your lips, before daring to take another two steps closer, hand stretching out to him. "I'll be sticking around for a while, the high lord thinks you could all use a permanent healer, something about rough play while you're training," the words bring a touch of a smirk to his lips, and your own smile widens when it does. "and I meet the criteria, apparently."
he huffs a bit of a laugh, slipping his own hand into yours, and every buzzing in his ears goes blissfully quiet, every firing nerve settles, and the smile he'd forced becomes genuine when your hand squeezes around his. you shake once, pulling back all too quickly, and he misses the feeling of touch instantly.
"now, elain says you don't like to be touched," wait, no- “so, if you ever want to get together sometime, we can talk about what you’re comfortable with, where your boundaries lie, that sort of thing…”
your words were tapering off, and he realised perhaps he should say something, or do something, or simply react, in any way at all, but he couldn't. because it was just so gut-wrenchingly sweet of you, and he hated it. he didn’t want boundaries. fuck them. destroy them. cross them all. he didn’t care.
he didn’t say that. instead, what he said was, “uh, sure. I’m pretty busy, but I’m sure we could work something out.”
you only nodded, lingering a second longer, and the tension between you both felt like it was stretching on for ages. you were so close, so close, and azriel clenched his hands by his sides once again, trying to fight the telling frown on his face, and the urge to reach out. your hair looked so soft, he’d bet it was, bet it smelled even more sugary, a smell he was rapidly getting used to, and-
and you were walking away, a small smile on your lips, and something deep and unusual within his chest flared a little with panic, and- “wait-”
was that him? azriel really wasn’t sure, he didn’t remember even thinking about making a noise, it just happened, and then- then you turned around, smile still there, a little more genuine this time. 
you raised an eyebrow at him this time, prompting him silently the way he had you. he liked it. he smiled back, just a touch.
“I’m sorry.”
“you haven’t done anything to be sorry for, azriel.”
“I’m being rude.” you didn’t respond, and he sighed a little, shoulders relaxing fractionally from the rigid tensing that was beginning to ache a little. “I just have… a lot on my mind. my apologies, for my behaviour. I appreciate your offer.”
“well, physical healer I may be, but mental health is just as important to me. if you ever want to talk, I make a good listener. and, semi-reasonable advice giver.”
he chuckled, a soft sound that he didn’t often make, but merely the way you seemed to perk up a little at his amusement made him want to spend the rest of his life laughing. he didn’t know why.
“I’m not sure how much I can trust that advice, given you are optionally friends with lucien, who truly believes that toast tastes better when it’s a little burned.” 
“I didn’t choose him, he chose me. you share your last cookie with the sad little boy at the playground one time, and you get stuck with the seventh in line to the throne for the rest of your life.” there was a fond smile on your lips, and for just as second, azriel revelled in this moment of quiet amusement with you. 
then he remembered the same look of amusement on lucien’s face, when he’d had an arm wrapped around you, and playfully shoved you, and knocked your cheek. 
and just like that, all the warmth of your conversation was stripped away, a shocking cold like a bucket of water straight from the Sidra on Starfall night tipped over his head. it reminded him just how lonely he was.
“I’d best get going, but, if you come by training with cassian and I, tomorrow morning, I’ll show you around. I assume you’ll be staying at the house of wind?” his heart was beating erratically fast in his chest, one scarred hand smoothing over the spot as it did. he felt breathless, waiting to see whether you’d accept his offer, waiting to see whether you’d reject him. azriel couldn't remember the last time he’d been this nervous.
“I'd like that, very much.”
“until tomorrow, then.”
you murmured something in response, but his heart was beating too fast, his blood rushing too loudly in his ears to be able to make it out. he simply nodded, hoping it would suffice, and left. he must’ve drunk a lot more than he thought.
hours later, when he was laying cold in his bed, his shadows informed him of your arrival. giggling in a somewhat tipsy state, you’d arrived mere seconds before cassian and nesta had landed on the balcony, one hand gripped tightly around lucien’s as he winnowed you in, wobbling slightly in your steps. 
your friend had kissed your cheek goodbye, as had elain, even cassian had kissed your knuckles dramatically as nesta rolled her eyes and suppressed a smile of her own. 
his bed felt like laying on a slab of ice. alone. 
however, exactly one hour and twelve minutes into training, which was exactly thirty-eight minutes after azriel had officially given up on your arrival, you came. 
his shadows swirled excitedly, so much so that cassian stuttered a little in his movements as they began to block his sights unintentionally, and the sweet smell of cinnamon and burnt sugar reached his nose once again, flooding the room a moment before you walk in.
he’s distracted, which is ridiculous, he never gets distracted, and he would have chastised himself for it if the blunt side of cassian’s wooden practice sword didn’t do it for him.
azriel’s vision spotted for a second as the wood collided with the side of his skull, teeth rattling, and he hissed out a curse, glare as cold as winter night’s shot at his partner when he began to chuckle.
“something got you all wound up, brother?”
“bite me.”
“not even one whole day and you boys are already putting me to use, huh?”
there was just something about you this morning. azriel really couldn't place it, but you were wearing a smile that made something in his chest clench a little, and as though you could read his thoughts, your hand lifted, rubbing gently over your own chest, over your heart. 
“this? this is nothing to worry about, we’ve seen much, much worse.” 
you merely rolled your eyes, stepping towards them both and bringing yourself further into the room. you beckoned azriel forward, and he was moving before he even knew what he was doing.
cassian scoffed good-naturedly, turning away to practice his swings against a wooden dummy, and azriel sank down, sitting against the edge of the ring as you came to stand before him. he spread his legs a little, letting you get that little bit closer, and you took it.
he blamed his breathlessness on the intense training he’d just done, not the smell of you overwhelming him like sugary treats and starfall spices.
“really, it’s nothing to worry abou-” 
you raked your fingers softly through his damp hair, fingertips gently soothing along his scalp for bumps.
he choked, words dying in his throat on a pathetically breathy exhale that would have embarrassed him had azriel not been feeling pure ecstasy.
your other hand joined it, raking through his hair, pads of your fingers pressing and soothing along his scalp, and azriel’s world went dark. eyes closed, rolling to the back of his head and shoulders sagging a little as you examined for bumps. he almost wished cassian had hit him harder, just so you’d find something.
“is this okay?” your words were murmured, a soft breath for only him to hear, and azriel couldn't even form words;
“mhmm..”
nobody had ever touched him like this, run their fingers through his hair, and when your nails scratched lightly over his scalp before you pulled back, he barely bit back a whine, body feeling like melted butter.
you patted down his hair, he could only imagine the mess it had become, and it took more effort than most battles did for azriel to compose himself. to close the place where his bottom lip had parted from his top to near-pant, to open his eyes and hold them more than a sleepy half-lid, to straighten his shoulders and find some strength in his spine to sit properly. and most of all, to not reach out and beg you to do it again.
the sound of cassian’s grunt as he trained snapped him back into an awkwardly rigid position, jaw tensing a little. 
“no bumps or breaks, you’re good to go, shadowsinger.” 
“told you so.”
your eyes rolled again, in that gentle and fond way, and he hoped he would see it more. he liked making your eyes roll.
“next time, you need to defend your blind spots better.”
“are you giving me fighting advice?” once again, the smile he gave you was real. two within one day, you were making him break his mask at record speeds. it was concerning, if anything. that was what he chose to call it, anyway. 
“you think I don’t know how to fight?”
“I know you don’t know how to fight. I can tell.”
“you can tell? how?”
“you have no grip strength, when you shook my hand last night, no way you could pick up a sword, it would drop right out of your hands. you tripped over your feet on the way over here, and you have zero awareness of your own blindspots.”
you gaped at him, and he couldn't help himself. he lifted a hand, pointer knuckle tucking under your chin to close your dropped jaw, and you huffed at him. his knuckle dragged along your skin for a split second, before dropping away, and he made a fist on his thigh, restricting any more movement. he was being far too needy and indulgent of his desire to touch, lately.
“maybe I didn’t want to hurt you by gripping your hand with my superior grip strength.”
“uh-huh.” 
“and maybe I’m just clumsy.”
“I’m not disputing that.”
“and how would you know anything about my blindspots?”
he shrugged, smirking a little at the tendrils of black curling over your shoulders, one of them wrapping neatly around the ends of your hair, pulling them silently off of your shoulders, into a ponytail you had no idea was being formed until the darkness tugged lightly. 
you gasped, the shadows skittering away like they were snickering at your shock, and azriel actually bit at the inside of his own cheek to contain his grin.
what was wrong with him lately? maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing there would be a healer around so much, perhaps he needed a check-up.
“alright, fine,” you had a look in your eye, one that he had absolutely no idea what it meant, and for the first time in his life, that confusion seemed to thrill him instead of terrifying him. “then teach me how to fight.”
“why on earth would you want to learn how to fight?”
“well, if I’m going to be out and about playing in the thick of it with you boys when you get yourselves all scratched up, it would probably be useful to know at least a little about defending myself.”
azriel hadn't thought about that. about all the danger he got himself into, about all the danger you’d be getting into. something cold settled in his chest, tight and gripping, making every breath feel a little rough. 
he choked that down, too.
“what would I get out of that deal?”
“I’ll heal up all these little injuries, the bothersome ones you always brush off.” he raised a brow, breath pausing in his throat as you reached for him, soft fingers wrapping around his wrist, bringing his clenched hand up. he’d been trying so hard not to touch you, but here you were, touching him.
unwrapping each finger carefully, you smoothed them out, his palm flexing and twitching a little at the featherlight touch you brushed over the scarred flesh.
“like this one, a little paper cut, on the tip of your finger.”
brushing your thumb over the pad lightly, he watched in awe as the tiniest fleck of glowing golden light shone from it for only a second, before the injury he’d made only this morning was gone.
it didn’t bother him, those kinds of wounds may as well not exist at all, that kind of pain was one he was so used to it was a sensation like breathing or walking at this point, but it didn’t matter. he’d take a thousand paper cuts of you’d hold him that softly and fix them that tenderly again and again.
you were offering him a deal, a lot of touches and attention, and he tried not to scream his agreement, and show his enthusiasm too much.
“how’d you know that was there?” he pulled his hand back, your own hovering for a second where you’d held his much larger one, before dropping to your side.
“I sensed it, when I touched you, looking for your head bump, I picked that up instead, it’s the only injury you’ve got. physical, anyway.”
a tense moment of silence followed your words at the implications of your final sentence. 
“you’ve got a deal. tomorrow morning we begin. but first, I believe I promised you a tour.”
he stood, putting a reasonable amount of distance between you both. he needed to remember who he was, he needed to remember who he was supposed to be. he couldn't afford to let his own weakness and desire pull at him anymore.
you took the hint, not getting nearly as close to him as you followed him around. 
azriel was equal parts relieved and disappointed by it.
for months, the need got worse and worse, the tugging in his chest, the empty loneliness, the phantom feelings of touches he didn’t have.
he expected his urges to touch to go down, blamed it on the cold and the winter, blamed it on all the changes taking place, blamed it on recovering from the war. azriel blamed it on everything he possibly could, hoping it would go away.
every time you trained with him and cassian in the mornings, every book exchange in the library, every weekly checkup that you’d forced them to start doing, it all tortured him, because he was now fixating on every little thing.
except, it didn’t go away. it stuck.
azriel found himself longing more and more for the touches that seemed to be getting less and less frequent. or, perhaps they weren’t, and he was simply needing them more, and he was noticing the lack of them. 
he had no idea why your arrival had sent him spiralling downhill, but he was struggling to patch up every crack that was beginning to break in his façade.
even his shadows were struggling, reaching out toward you in every room, searching all corners of it when you weren’t there.
everything just became easier when he started avoiding you entirely.
he skipped a couple of training sessions, an excuse about needing to catch up on work, and you didn’t question it.
he took meals in his bedroom, or after he was sure you’d already eaten, just to avoid you at the table.
he hid every cut and wound, and for the first couple of weeks, you berated him playfully, joking that he should have come and found you to fix them. it took everything he had not to smile, to respond, to prolong these sessions where your fingers were skim gently over his skin, shimmering gold sealing up small cuts and all the bruises, fixing every ache.
after a while, you just stopped. every near-silent check-up or barely-friendly greeting when you saw one another making something cold fill his chest.
but at least that sharp coldness within him was better than feeling completely empty.
it had been almost a full year when your first chance to truly go away with them arose. the air was cold enough that your breath clouded in the sky, snow was sticking to the ground, and there was a permanent layer of ice settled over the top of the Sidra.
it should have been easy, and yet everything that could have gone wrong, did.
the meagre forces of you, himself, cassian and nesta hadn't been nearly enough. 
you were terrified, azriel was in and out of consciousness, being half-dragged along through the snowstorm by cassian, who winced every time he put their joint weight on his right foot, and nesta was clutching at her side. 
there was blood clotted into your hair from a cut along your forehead, a bruise blossoming on your ribs and you were sure an arrow had caught you across your thigh, but it was so cold, you could barely feel any part of your body anymore.
flying out wasn’t an option, your only teammate who could winnow had been out-cold for nearly an hour, and the inn had been a blessed relief when it had finally come into view.
the patron hadn't even flinched when the four of you had stumbled up to the counter and demanded three rooms, blood dripping onto the floor between you all, snow and mud trekked up the stairs with keys clutched in hand.
“cass, start a fire, nesta, go get as many bowls of snow as you can.”
they did as told, and you began to peel back the layers of protective leather and armour azriel wore, laying haphazardly on the bed where cassian had left him as they scurried. 
blood was smeared across skin that had gone pale, and bile rose in the back of your throat as you took in the wounds before you. they were like nothing you’d ever seen. 
stripping off the top layer of his leathers, they made a sickeningly wet sound as they hit the wooden floorboards, blood spilling out around your feet in a puddle, soaking into the bedsheets that would never be truly clean again.
cassian hissed as he returned.
nesta’s hands shook as she began placing bowls of snow into the fire to heat.
neither could stomach staying as you began to stitch up the wounds.
over six hours later, azriel was healed and you’d seen to nesta’s cracked ribs, your attention moving to the final warrior who needed help, and ignoring the painful drag of every footstep you took to follow him.
cassian was laying a patched-up azriel onto the bed in the spare room, jaw clenched so tight you thought his teeth would crack.
“let me look at your ankle, cass.”
you sunk down onto the edge of the bed patting the space next to you once his arms were free of his friend, and he shook his head.
“it’s fine, nothing to worry about.”
“let me look.”
“no.”
“cassian, let me look at your ankle, gods dammit!”
silence filled the room around you both, and for a second you worried your yell would wake nesta, sleeping only on the other side of the wall.
he set himself down, lifting his leg up, and placing his ankle into your lap.
swollen shades of yellow and purple and blue, his ankle had swollen up so wide it was almost the thickness of the rest of his leg, and when you pressed it, his entire body trembled.
“s’gonna hurt a little bit, but only for a second.”
“what about you?”
“what about me?” you mumbled, fingers smoothing over his skin, a soft glow emitting from your hands as you worked.
cassian groaned, eyes squeezing shut as you began to repair the damage.
“I can tell you’re spent. I came to check on you, when you were healing az. you didn’t look so good. does rhysand know what healing does to you? does lucien? does anyone?”
your motions paused, only for a split second, before you were soothing over his skin, hands tightening around him as the swelling began to go down.
“they know. it’s just, I’ve never had to heal something this big before, he was practically dead. but, I’m fine. really. keeping him alive long enough to get here took a lot out of me, but it’s over now.”
‘fine’ was the best you could do. ‘fine’ was a grievous exaggeration, but cassian didn’t need to know that. 
your head was pounding so hard you saw spots, your hands were shaking so violently that when they were no longer on cassian’s leg, you sat on them to hide the tremor. you’d sat down to heal cassian’s ankle because you’d nearly collapsed trying to follow him in here, legs giving way underneath you.
“you’re all done.”
he stood, testing his weight on his foot, letting out the same huff of amusement he always did when you healed him up so fast, no matter how many times you’d done it.
“where are you going to sleep? not in the other room, I suspect.”
your nose wrinkled up, the metallic smell of azriel’s blood was still so heavy you were surprised it wasn’t leaking through the walls, the fire in that room still burning from the ruined sheets you’d tossed in to dispose of.
something, something had lurched while you’d been tending to him as cassian and nesta fussed, and the idea of going back into a room where you’d fought just to keep him alive made your head spin.
“I’m going to stay here and keep an eye on azriel. if he makes it through the night, he’ll be fine.”
the truth was, you were nowhere near done. just because you’d stabilised azriel didn’t mean your job was over. it just took a little pressure off the clock. his skin was still too clammy, a fever fighting high, his heart rate was too weak and his skin still too pale. he was a long, long way from mended.
cassian looked dubious, sleep was crawling at the edge of his consciousness, you could tell from the way he swayed on where he stood, shoulders hunched and eyes drooping. 
“besides, we’re safer in pairs. go and be with nesta, I’ll be here, we’ll meet up in the morning.”
he finally gave in, the mention of his mate making his head snap to look at the wall she lay on the other side of, like she’d tugged subconsciously to convince him to do as told. you wouldn't be surprised if she had.
the door closed behind him, and you were left in a cold, dark room, with only azriel’s rattling, wet breaths to let you know you weren’t alone.
you used what little strength you had left to make a fire, tugging the sheets out from underneath azriel and hanging them before the hearth to warm, before sealing them around his body. 
you stripped off what you could of your own bloody leathers, washing both sets with cold water in the empty dishes of snow you had left, before hanging those, too, up to warm and dry. 
settling in beside him, pain like you’d never known flared throughout your entire body as you called on your gift once again.
settling a hand on an unconscious azriel’s shoulder, your eyes closed, beginning to search through for every internal wound, stitching nerves and muscles back together one by one. 
you were sweating, but freezing cold, throat raw and eyes stinging but no tears left to give as you gasped for breath. 
you kept the fire going, his fever broke, and at some point during the night, azriel began to regain his strength.
he never woke, but you weren't aware you had dozed off yourself beside him until you were startled back awake.
he had rolled over, shuffled weakly across the bed until one arm had slung its way over your waist, cheek pressing into your shoulder, the cool tip of his nose was pressed into your neck. 
he was still cold, no matter how many times you restocked the fire to keep it going, searching out for your body heat without realising it. 
you lay still for a while, to see if he would wake, but he didn’t.
instead, you fastened an arm around his shoulders, the other threading lightly into sweat-soaked hair, still damp from where you’d tried to clean him up, soothing him lightly. 
you used what strength you had left to make sure he stayed in a deep sleep, pain-free and unaware.
nesta was the one who woke you in the morning, looking a lot better than she had when going to sleep the night before, and you panicked a little as you stretched out to find yourself alone.
“good sleep, huh? I’ve been trying to wake you for five whole minutes.”
“where’s azriel? cassian?”
her eyes rolled, but you’d learned her tells, knowing all of it was in love, not hate. “they’re downstairs, paying extra for the ruined sheets and the rooms. storm cleared, we’re ready to go home, so get up and get dressed.”
you shifted, arms barely able to pull yourself up, and nesta’s eyes narrowed a little as you lay back down.
“can’t I have five more minutes? I was having a  good dream.”
“you can sleep in your own bed when we get out of this godawful inn and back to velaris.”
“fine, I suppose you’re right. I’ll meet you downstairs in five minutes.”
she left, and five minutes was more like fifteen as you struggled to even stand up, never mind get dressed, and finally, make your way downstairs to meet them at the entry of the inn.
“‘bout time, I’m waiting on you to get home for a good meal.” 
“my apologies, queen nesta.” she grinned, and your gaze moved to the other two. cassian was studying you, gaze flicking to your hairline, and you lifted your fingers to touch the sensitive skin there, still raw, the cut you had forgone to patch up even last night. your sharp glare kept him silent about it.
“the flight shouldn’t take long, and the skies are nice and clear now. we’ll be back in time for lunch.” to emphasise his point, cassian’s stomach rumbled, loudly.
he took off first, shooting up into the sky with nesta and leaving you standing in tense silence with azriel.
“az, how are you feeling?”
“fine.” he almost growled the word out, and your brows furrowed.
he hated doing this to you, the look of hurt that had flickered across your face, but he had to. pushing people away, keeping them out, he was good at that, he was used to it, and it made everything easier. 
letting you in, it was far too painful, you would see every raw and damaged and broken part of him, and he wasn’t ready to face that.
when he’d woken up wrapped in your arms that morning, for a shocking second, azriel had felt at peace. for the very first time in his life, he had felt utterly content. like he didn’t regret anything, like he didn’t want anything to change, like he didn’t want a distraction. 
and it had terrified him so much that he thought he might be sick.
“you’re a sleep cuddler.” apparently so. you were trying so hard to lighten the mood, and he wanted nothing more than to sink into that, but he couldn't. he choked back the lump in his throat, gaze flickering to the sky for a second, avoiding your gaze.
“I trust that won’t happen again.”
you went unnaturally still, gaze turning sharp on him as you stared, and he still couldn't bring himself to meet your eye.
“that’s all you have to say? that’s it? I heal you up, I take care of you, an-”
“that is your job, is it not?”
the laugh you gave him was cold and harsh. it made him feel like his chest was closing up, freezing over from the inside out.
“right. yes. my job. well, we should get going, I’m rather tired.”
he’d pushed it too far, too far too far too far, his shadows were almost biting at him as they whipped around his body, chastising him for his behaviour, his tone, his every decision.
“(Y/N)-”
“message received, azriel, loud and clear. I want to go home now, please.”
look up look up look up, meet his eye now, he was ready, he wanted you to. you wouldn't. you stepped closer, allowing him to pick you up, before soaring into the sky.
it was one of the worst flights of his life, and tense few hours, the silence azriel normally revelled in felt like it was suffocating him. he could feel the warmth of your magic, even now, swirling around you both to block out the chill until you were landing on the balcony, only moments behind cassian and nesta.
the rest were lined up, waiting for your return, welcoming you back with hugs and shoulder pats, and a table full of food waiting.
hurt.
azriel felt it as his shadows reappeared, catching up to him as he tucked his wings into his back, letting you down slowly.
hurt.
who? his gaze flickered over everyone that was lined up, scanning his friends for injuries.
hurt. hurt. hurt.
you stumbled, knees buckling, and had you not been standing so close to him when you did, you’d have hit the floor before azriel had caught you.
his shadows swarmed around you, until you were barely visible to the rest, and you sank slowly to the ground, letting azriel help you.
hurthurthurthurth-
his shadows recoiled as the heir of day stepped forward, dropping harshly to his knees to cup your face. your skin had paled, your eyes fluttering more closed than open, and your lips were parted with shallow breaths.
“what happened?”
“m’jus’ a little tired, that’s all.”
lucien smoothed a hand over your hair, letting you slump forward until your face was pressed against his shoulder, one hand clutching weakly at his shirt.
“you’re freezing, and you’re so shaky, why can’t you-” he paused, the hand petting your hair moving to rest over your forehead as he searched for something. “you burned out.”
“I’m fine. I just need some sleep.”
“you’re not just-”
“lucien, please.”
he stared, waiting a second, before the air around you both folded, and the space at azriel’s feet was empty. his shadows exploded, a representation of his own panic, before feeding back to him a second later that lucien had laid you in your bed.
“what was that?”
“she did too much,” cassian mumbled, hands wringing in front of himself, and rhysand rubbed his brow.
“how bad was it?”
“bad.”
“what. happened?”
he was ignored as cassian shrugged at their high lord, unsure where to start.
“we got caught off-guard, more of them than we could possibly handle. ness got hit first, az covered her, but it was too much. he- it was bad. I’ve seen soldiers die from a lot less. he would have died. but she held him together. I don’t know how, she just did. enough to make it to an inn, she fixed us up. stayed up with az the whole time, I could hear her moving around all night. I knew she was drained but I didn’t know it was this bad, if I did, I would have.. I would have.. done something. I wouldn't have let her help me too, I would have-”
cassian cleared his throat, walking away with a nod and a promise to debrief rhysand later. nesta followed.
“you knew this would happen? you knew she could burn out, that it would be this bad? you knew, and-”
“I knew, because she told me. she acknowledged the risks, she made the decision. she chose to look after you, she chose her own actions. she looks after us, and now we will look after her.”
his tone was final, and azriel’s jaw clenched so hard it hurt.
they left, one by one, they all left him on the balcony alone, to tend to the rest of their duties.
you’d pushed yourself to the brink for him, through agony and worse, and he couldn't even bring himself to crack open a little of the box inside his mind he worked so hard to keep sealed shut.
that was the moment azriel decided it was going to have or change.
you didn’t wake for two days. two full days azriel spent swimming in guilt and sadness, a feeling he couldn't place filling his every thought, making it hard to eat, or sleep, or even think.
he felt.. nothing. absolutely nothing.
two days, and on the evening of the third day, while everyone was sitting at the dinner table chatting, and azriel was emptily pushing perfectly good chicken and vegetables around his plate, you emerged.
“hello.” 
azriel felt like his heart started back up in his chest.
“can you spare a plate? I’m fucking starving.”
lucien laughed, his head dropping for a second as elain grinned, patting the seat next to her that had been empty for days, the one opposite him, that had been taunting him. 
slipping into it, cassian was quick to pile you up a plate, with more food than you could possibly eat, passing it along down the lines as you sunk into the chair next to him. 
accepting the food, you settled back into everything like nothing had been wrong, like you hadn't scared azriel half to death, like you hadn't left him feeling adrift, untethered, lost, and he needed to talk to you, needed to make it right-
his stomach rumbled, clenching almost painfully. finally, he thought. he was fucking starving.
he would talk to you after he’d eaten.
the first chance to approach you came when you were sitting out on the balcony, still a little pale, still a little shaky, with a thick blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you stared up at the sky.
he sat down next to you, silently, trying to find as much comfort in the stars as you had, but his thoughts were spinning too fast. in the darkness, he let his shadows free a little, let them crawl underneath your chair, over the back, around your feet where you couldn't see. 
“the skies never look quite like this in autumn. I like it here.” your words were steady and calm, nothing like his heart, and azriel twisted his head to look at you. you were not looking at him.
“I’m sorry.”
“you have nothing to be sorry for, azriel."
he felt like he was living everything over again, you were strangers once again, and that thought made every other one freeze inside of his head, a spotlight focus on that.
“please, don’t shut me out.”
you looked at him now, studying him like a journal, brows furrowing a little. 
“I never shut you out, azriel. you are the one who shut me out. you made it very clear that you didn’t want my touch, nor my friendship, nor even my company. it’s okay, I don’t expect everyone to always want my companionship, but next time, at least a ‘thank you’ for saving your life would be nice.”
“thank you.” the words tumbled from him like water spilling from the sky when a storm broke. “thank you, for all of it. for staying up to make sure I made it through the night, and for.. for caring.”
you help his gaze, nodding once. “you’re welcome.”
you looked back to the sky, ignorant to the shadows crawling higher and higher up, languidly, begging him to let them curl around you, still fearing for your wellbeing.
“I like to be touched,”
he spoke the words without breathing, without looking at you, still staring at the stars, even as he felt your attention move to him. it felt like a weight being lifted off of his chest, but it was terrifying, a confession spoken now that he could never take back.
“I like to be touched. I love being touched, but it’s not who I am. I am not supposed to be.. soft. I’m supposed to be strong, and powerful, and it terrifies me that I can be so- that I need it. I love being touched, but I can’t ask. They can’t know. I can never tell them.”
you didn’t ask who they were, and you didn’t ask why. somehow, he knew that you just understood.
“you scare me. you scare me more than anything, because for all of my life I’ve been just fine, centuries suppressing this need and managing it all, and then one year ago you come along, and everything changed, and I don’t know why.” the more he spoke, the lighter he felt, some deep and suffocating binding was finally loosening within him.
“perhaps 500 years of pretending not to need attention, not to need love, has finally started to take its toll.”
you were right, he knew you were, but it was still a hard truth to swallow.
“you know, we all have our love languages.”
“our what?”
“love languages.” there was a soft smile on your face when he finally braved looking at you, and it made him feel secure, like his confessions were in safe hands, like for once, he didn’t have to carry every burden on his own. “there’s five.”
“five?”
“yes.” you twisted a little more toward him. “rhys and feyre, they’re the same. they just want to provide for the people they love. perhaps it’s why it’s so easy for them to love one another. both of their love languages are similar. rhys’.. his is gift giving. he shows you all his love through what he can give you, buy you. he houses you all, spoils you constantly, makes sure you are always provided for. he does it sneakily, like buying cassian’s favourite cookies or making sure there are always fresh flowers for elain.”
“what about feyre?”
“hers is acts of service. she spent years providing for her family, she went through hell for tamlin, and then through war for rhys. she was willing to give everything for them all, she continues to do so. elain, hers is quality time. when lucien began inviting her to the spring court, they used to do nothing but sit or walk in silence for hours in the gardens. or in the living room, when he’d read while she learned to knit.”
“what about nesta? she doesn’t fit any of those boxes.”
“no, she doesn’t.” whether you’d noticed them or not, you didn’t say, but azriel’s shadows were beginning to crawl up and over you, weaving around you in lazy swirls as you whispered quietly between yourselves, to the background noise of your friends in the house. “nesta’s love language is words of affirmation.”
he didn’t need to question it, that made perfect sense. 
“yours is touch. everyone has a love language, azriel, and it’s not something to be ashamed of. it’s simply who you are.”
somehow, you made him feel alright with something he’d spent 500 years hating about himself.
“what is yours?”
“technically, I don’t actually need to touch anyone, to heal them. I just have to be close enough to feel their energies.” he processed the words, heart skipping a beat a little at the meaning. you were the same as him. “just think about it all.”
you stood, taking the blanket from your shoulders and leaving it folded over the back of the chair you were leaving behind. 
as you walked past, you paused, placing a hand on his shoulder, and shadows rose, wrapping like bracelets around your wrist as you squeezed lightly. “if you can’t tell them yet, that's okay. but if you ever need someone, you can come and find me. you’re hurting, az, and it’s my job to keep you all in one piece. if holding you when you need it is something you want, then you know where to find me.”
he couldn't speak, only nod, because he wasn’t sure he could get any words out around the lump in his throat.
you left, leaving his head somehow both spinning and utterly empty. 
he waited, mulling over your words, whispering them to himself in the dark, until it became too cold to be comfortable, anymore. 
almost everyone had retired, only cassian, mor and amren still awake, drinking quietly in front of the fire, but he didn’t feel like joining them.
no, he knew where he truly wanted to be.
the clock read over two hours since you’d left him, you’d surely be asleep by now, and azriel tried to pretend like it wasn’t disappointment filling him. stop being needy.
he was making his way to his own bedroom, taking the long route, when he passed your door. light was still spilling out from underneath it, golden glow from the crack between it and the floor, and azriel felt like his feet were rooted to the ground. 
he could feel his heartbeat, right down to his fingers, and he clenched them into a fist to stop it. 
he knocked. he knocked, he didn’t know what possessed him to do so, and maybe it wasn’t too late to just leave, but then there you were;
standing before him, pretty nightgown and a cardigan, hair a little ruffed from the loose way you’d fastened it back, and you didn’t look at all surprised to see him.
“az. would you like to come in?”
“more than anything, actually.” he breathed the words weakly, no longer having any embarrassment left to give, and he stepped over the threshold, letting you close the door.
your fire was lit, logs crackling quietly, but he couldn't smell them, instead, he could smell the candle you had, winter spices and berries, a sweet combination, but not as sweet as your smell. your sheets were tossed askew, clearly having been used, and a book lay on the bed, page marked.
“can I..?”
you raised a brow, but he didn’t know exactly how to word what he wanted, he wanted so much, he didn’t know where to start.
“do you want to lay with me while I read?”
“you mean, like we did that night?”
“if you want.”
he felt young again, no strain and stress on his shoulders, just bashful and a little shy, watching as you walked back to your bed, getting comfy once again. you patted the sheets, prompting him to move, and he did.
slowly, so slowly, azriel removed one boot at a time, placing them neatly in a pair at the end of your bed. then his belt, and his jacket, undoing every clasp and buckle slowly, until he was merely left in the comfortable trousers he’d worn to dinner, and his t-shirt.
one knee on the edge of the bed, and then the other, nervous but pushing on as azriel all but catapulted himself over a line he’d never considered crossing before. you lifted the blanket, welcoming him under, and he lay himself down slowly.
shuffling a little closer, he hesitated, close enough to feel every bit of warmth you gave off, but not touching a single part of you.
“I-.. I’m scared.”
“you don’t ever have to be scared with me, azriel. my job is to heal you, let me do that.” you spread your arms for him, and he gave in, the last shred of resistance obliterated. 
he collapsed down by your side, cheek pressing into your shoulder, nose brushing that spot, that spot on your neck that smelt so damn sweet, every bit of you. his front was pressed up along your side, the arm curled around his shoulder, fingers threading into his hair, and he didn’t realise how much he needed it until the sigh he let out shook.
and then his shoulders did.
his chest.
he didn’t realise he was crying until three or four breaths in.
he felt frozen, body locked up as he sobbed, unable to help himself, your fingers weaving through his hair, giving him privacy even as he lay atop you, reading quietly and flicking each page every so often. 
he cried until it felt like that well of emotion inside of him that he spent so long locking up no longer felt like it was about to overflow. it was manageable, truly kept in place, for once.
he dared to reach out, to hold you back like you held him, one arm over your waist, anchoring you down, making sure you were real, you weren’t going to leave. 
and you let him.
every breath he took tasted sweet on his tongue, like roasted marshmallows, and the last thing azriel truly remembered before everything went black was the feeling of your other arm reaching over, hand placed atop his scarred one on your stomach, squeezing lightly.
when azriel woke, he panicked. this wasn’t his bed, his room, and there was someone here, someone holding him, someone-
it all came back. he shifted, pulling his face from where it still lay on your shoulder, one limp hand woven into his hair, falling away when he looked up to you, still asleep. your breaths were even. as he pulled back some more, you shifted, following his warmth the way he had subconsciously done to you. it sparked something in his chest, heart pinching a little.
there was no way he could move now.
he lay back down, rolling onto his side, and pulling you softly back toward him. you went, sleepily, curling up against him. dawn had broken, he was supposed to be training, cassian would be there already, and yet not a single part of him was willing to move, not even his shadows, which were spilling like lazy waterfalls over the bedsheets surrounding you both, hardly any movement at all.
it was like nothing he’d ever felt before. euphoria.
when you woke, it was with a little jump, like you were caught off-guard as much as he was. 
you stretched somewhat, and azriel slackened the arm he’d been using to hold you close, but you didn’t pull away.
instead, you rolled over a little more onto your back, but shuffled close to him, using his arm like a pillow as you blinked to adjust to the morning sun.
“you stayed.”
“is that okay?”
“it was lovely. I haven’t slept that well in ages.”
“I haven’t slept that well ever.”
azriel had hoped that by the morning, he’d have found some control over his filter again when he was around you. it would seem that hope was ill-founded.
you gasped, mockingly placing a hand over your heart, a teasing look in your eyes as you looked at him. “I am truly honoured. like a dreamcatcher, obviously, I’m just the very best cuddl-”
he rolled his eyes, and didn’t bother to hide the smile on his face. he’d exposed one of his deepest secrets to you, everything else felt so small now in comparison. he cut you off by squeezing you tightly, rolling his arm up behind your head and clamping a hand over your mouth.
eventually, the two of you had gotten up, and he’d parted ways with you at the bedroom door to change his clothes before meeting everyone for breakfast.
but, like a bucket of cold water, the high he’d been floating on came crashing down when he walked into the dining room. 
you were already sitting at the table, buttering a piece of toast as mor piled more onto your plate, insistent on getting three days worth of missed food into you as he sat down. 
“where exactly were you this morning, brother? you missed training entirely. the girls teamed up on me, do you know how unfair that was? three against one, azriel!”
he froze a little, halfway into his seat, eyes flicking to the warlords, before he sat properly.
“I was sleeping.”
“sleeping?”
“yes. you know, that thing where you close your eyes, and go unconscious for extended periods of time in order to-”
“shut up, you know what I meant.” he remained staring, like he was trying to work azriel out, and you chuckled at them both.
“cass, your mother hen is showing.” the man scoffed, turning his scrutiny to you instead, and azriel loosed a breath with appreciation. he wasn’t ready yet, to tell everyone else what he’d managed to tell you. he may never be ready, but he already felt lighter having let just one person in.
something bumped his ankle, and dropping his gaze down to below the table, he caught your foot reaching out, slippered toes kicking lightly at his ankle. he shifted forward in his seat, tucking himself underneath properly, and your fluffy foot wrapped around his ankle lightly.
his head spun. 
right here, in his everyday life, someone was touching azriel just for the sake of touching him. 
he wasn’t ready to tell anyone else yet, and you were accommodating him.
he didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this, and one day, he was sure it would all come crashing down, but at least for now, he decided he would just enjoy it.
and so, it continued just like that.
you would touch az any chance you got, subtle, enough to go undetected, but enough that everything inside of azriel was practically singing with joy, all times of the day. 
you’d place a hand on his shoulder when you stood beside him while he sat down, you’d link your foot with his when you sat at the table, you’d move him with your hands, this way or that way. you’d grab onto him, drag him around when he was late for his checkups because he got caught up in work. you’d poke him, and jab him when he teased you, and you’d pinch his cheeks until he swatted you away when you teased him back.
and most of all, you let him keep up his façade, rolling his eyes and huffing and pushing you away lightly, without ever pulling back from him.
more and more nights as it went on, he ended up in your bed at night, reading beside you quietly as his leg lay pressed up to yours, or your head slumped onto his shoulder when you got tired before he did.
it was months before azriel had the nerve to touch you in front of everyone without reason. 
he was frustrated. he was angry and worn out, and he’d been gone for days when he finally saw his family again. five days of poor sleep, lonely days, and exhausting work trying to gather information.
he wanted to be held, he wanted nothing more than to collapse back into the lifestyle he’d become so used to already, in such a short amount of time.
you were there, sitting on one of the couches, spread out along it as everyone chatted, wine passed around. the volume hit zero as he hovered in the doorway for just a second. 
“az, you’re back! how was it?”
“shit.”
“did you get it done?”
“of course.”
“good. join us. do you want a drink?”
he swallowed, throat dry, only nodding instead. but, that wasn’t really what he wanted. he was frozen in spot, and everyone was staring at him now. silence. but he was staring at you.
you sat up a little further, blissed-out look passing from your face, your back straightened. your eyes passed over him, once, twice, before meeting his gaze again. 
“az, are you hurt?”
it felt like he had to force the word out, heart pounding in his ears as he considered every consequence of what he was about to do, every truth he was about to lay bare. he could pretend, he could say he was hurt, he knew you’d fake it for him. or, he could finally face the thing that terrified him.
he didn’t care, not anymore.
“no.”
at long last, his feet were moving again, and he strode across the room. kicking his boots off roughly and leaving them abandoned on the floor by the couch, next to wear your heels lay. you must have been out for drinks with mor and the others, everyone seeming a little dressed up.
he stripped off the leather jacket next, dropping it down onto the floor. 
he sank, ass hitting the cushions, twisting, until he could lay down, the back of his head landing softly on your thighs. 
he closed his eyes, he didn’t want to see everyone's faces, he just wanted to feel you.
rhys cleared his throat, breaking the tension that had lasted well over ten-seconds already.
“well, then. wine or whiskey, az?”
“whiskey, three fingers.”
“you got it.”
you threaded your fingers into his hair, and az let loose the rumble from his chest that he always had when you played with his hair, nails scraping lightly at his scalp.
you shifted underneath him, stretching one leg out along the couch behind him, shifting so his head lay on your stomach instead, resting between your legs comfily. 
“so, it all went according to plan?” feyre was next, an overly high lilt to her voice, as rhys tinkered at the drinks cabinet in the corner.
“no, no, no, hang on. we’re all just going to avoid t- ow, nes!” a resounding thud cut him off, and azriel smirked as he heard cassian rubbing at what he assumed was the back of his head.
“everything went fine, just glad to be back. that’s all.”
“yeah, bet you are.” cassian grumbled, and your stomach shook under azriel’s head as you laughed.
rhys pat his shoulder, and he finally cracked his eyes back open, accepted the drink that was being offered. he took it, nodding a ‘thank you’, and his high lord’s eyes sparkled a little as he looked at the pair of you.
sitting up, he tried to fight the warmth coming to his cheeks, the one reaction he couldn't contain no matter how hard he tried, and he covered it by taking a long swig of the burnt amber liquid inside.
“we were just talking about cassian’s most embarrassing encounter at rita’s.”
“what?! no, we were not!”
“no, no, I distinctly remember that's the conversation we were having.” rhysand backed you up, winking at the change in topic of conversation, and feyre nodded her support. “wasn’t it around the 300 years mark, just after the summer solstice..” 
cassian’s face blanched, nesta perked up, as did elain and feyre, and both mor and rhys chuckled into their drinks.
his brother was now forced to retell this story for you four, and azriel felt a single claw tap three neat times at the inside of his mind. after a moment of hesitation, he let rhys in. let him see it. let him feel it, the way you made him feel.
his other brother only nodded, pulling back, smiling as he wrapped an arm around his mate, pulling her into his side to focus on the story.
for the first time ever, as azriel watched it and wished he had that too, he could act. he reached for you, wrapping an arm around you and tugging you closer to his chest. you went willingly, leaning your head on his shoulder as you giggled, thoroughly invested in cassian’s story. 
he ran his nose over the crown of your head, smiling into your hair when you relaxed even further into him. 
he’d never felt so settled.
that night, when you lay in bed, and he let himself into your room, the energy felt different.
he collapsed down beside you, flopping onto his stomach, pulling a pillow under his head and reaching an arm out across your waist as you chuckled. 
“big step you took tonight.”
“I was sick of everyone else getting what they wanted, and never taking what I want.”
“I’m proud of you.”
his eyes snapped open, finding you instantly, and he stared at you for a second, eyes narrowing, and you never flinched away.
“what?”
“I'm proud of you. you faced a fear you’ve held for, what, almost five centuries? you should be proud of yourself, too.”
he only nodded, discarding the pillow and moving over to you, no longer feeling even an inkling of nerves as he collapsed down onto your pillow with you, noses mere centimetres apart, legs tangling together as he searched for your touch, as he always did nowadays.
you lifted a hand, placing it on his face, thumb smoothing over his cheekbone delicately. “you deserve good things, az. let yourself ask for them, let yourself take them.”
he was rendered completely breathless, heart racing so fast it felt like it stopped, and all he could do was smile. 
in that moment, when you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose, giggling as you pulled back to blow out the final candle lighting the room, he felt his heart actually stop. 
in that moment, azriel knew he was completely, totally and undeniably fucked. 
after that night, a line had been crossed.
he crossed it, he made the first move, edging forward into something entirely unknown. azriel was used to suppressing his feelings, he never confronted them. and yet, not, he was not only acknowledging them, he was acting on them, using them.
he woke up before you the following morning, as he always did, content to lie in once again, ignoring his training with cassian once again. cass was surely going to get sick of this, but he didn’t care.
you, however, had different plans. you woke moments after him, jerking awake with a sudden jump, one hand coming up to your head. 
you merely groaned, leaving his arms to sit up straight in bed, covers pooling around your lap and his.
“what’s wrong, angel?”
“I realised I’m late for- what?” a pink tinge touched your cheeks, and you turned, glancing at him over your shoulder. lips parted in a pretty way, eyes wide and vulnerable, and he lifted one arm, propping it behind his head and grinning like it hadn't been intentional. 
“I said, ‘what’s wrong, angel’?”
the colour on your cheeks deepened, and you swallowed, several times, before licking over your lower lip and dropping your gaze.
“cassian. uh, well, training. uhm, training, with cassian. I’m late. for it. for training with cassian.”
his smile stretched as you stumbled over your words when his gaze fixed on you, trailing slowly over you in the morning light.
azriel really was grateful for the blocks you were removing from his mind, every wall you took down allowed him to realise something new, and the wall you’d removed last night allowed him to truly witness just how beautiful you were. and just how affected he was by it.
you were breathtaking, messy hair and wide eyes, shrouded by the golden light of the morning, and wreathed in twisting shadows as they wrapped around you, weaving through your hair, tickling your cheeks, teasing you. 
he couldn't even begin to have imagined such a sight. ethereal. 
“well, then, you’d better get going.” he showed no signs of moving, pulling your covers back up his body somewhat, and you gaped at him. 
“you- you’re staying here? in my bed? you’re not- you’ve not got things to do?”
“I have nothing else to do, and I’m comfy. I’ll probably still be here when you get back.”
“I- uh, okay.”
“unless you’d rather me come to training? we could work on your takedowns.”
“wait, whats wrong with my takedowns? I took down nesta, and gwyn!"
“and until you can take down me and cass, I’m not secure in your safety.”
you huffed at him, but there was a playful smile on your face, telling him you weren’t really mad, and he reached out, placing a hand on your knee, squeezing lightly. your gaze tracked the movement. 
“so, will you come?” he raised a brow at you, and you gasped a little at the innuendo he’d turned it into. “to training! will you come to training?”
“I suppose so.” he sat up, stretching his arms over his head, and his shadows told him of the way you bit your lower lip, gaze flicking over his chest and arms, before snapping away to stare pointedly at the door before he caught you. “I’ll go and put on my leathers. I’ll meet you there, angel.”
rolling from the bed and flexing out the numbness from his wings, he leaned back over, one hand on the mattress beside you, one on your hip, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, and pulling back.
“see you soon.”
he was practically breathless by the time he reached the corridor, closing the door behind himself, shoes in hand. 
on the way to his own bedroom, he crossed rhysand, who was passing to his office, coffee mug raised halfway to his lips, and his brows shot up. “alright, brother?”
“more than alright.”
“want to tell me about it?”
“not yet.” 
“in that case, good luck.”
az grinned, continuing on his way through the house to prepare himself for training.
and just like that, azriel’s favourite new hobby began; teasing you. seeing just how much he could make you blush, how far he could go, whether you felt the same way.
lingering hands that slipped a little lower than needed when you trained, stares that he knew were more than suggestive, winks to accompany jokes that pressed well beyond that of friendship.
now that he had decided to be truthful with friends, he couldn't keep his hands to himself, he wasn’t sure how he ever did.
azriel liked to sit next to you, bury his face in your neck or hair, keep you tugged in close to his side. his arm lived permanently over the back of whatever seat you were on, and he always sat next to you, tucking hair away behind your ears, rubbing your back gently when you got sleepy, and holding you close to his chest every night when you slept. 
he simply couldn't get enough. 
after a few weeks, you’d stopped blushing and being as shocked. you’d caught onto his little game, he suspected, because you had begun making a habit of teasing him back.
you would kiss every cut and scrape and wound that he got once you’d fixed him up, lips teasing over the bandages as he pouted about it falsely.
you’d started to make him work for it, to always find someway to squirm or shuffle, to tease him with the possibility of leaving just so he’d have to grip a little tighter.
you’d taken to playing with his hands, running a the pad of your index over each finger and around his palm, featherlight touches that made him twitch.
and he loved it. every second of it, he loved it.
whenever he could get his hands on you, your hands on him, any part of his body touching you.
and when you weren’t there, his family had gotten more affectionate too. 
cassian gave him a hug every single time he saw him, and it was almost the fifth hug before azriel stopped feeling the lump form in his throat.
rhys had taken to patting his back and shoulders every chance he got while feyre had taken to squeezing his hands and arms. mor would ruffle his hair and pinch his cheeks. he loved all of that, too. 
but he didn’t love any of it as much as he loved your touch. 
and so, the morning when azriel finally lay the last piece of his soul bare to you had felt so utterly normal.
he’d been in your bed that night, his legs were still tangled with yours in the early morning golden sun, noses almost touching as you shared a pillow, and just whispered about everything. his hand was tucked under your shirt to run over your skin lightly as your fingers played with his hair. 
it had been utterly perfect.
he’d told you about his mother, and the childhood he’d been locked away, and the healer who would be his only form of touch for years as she fixed him up after his brothers or step-father hurt him. 
he let you into that final piece of himself, and you’d made it beautiful, just like the rest. 
and so, when he'd leaned forwards, catching your lips with his own in a delicate meeting, it had felt so right. not heart-racing, not anxiety-inducing, not new and terrifying and bold. no, it had felt like coming home. 
and that terrified him.
it terrified him more so when he felt his chest hum, felt his heart skip a beat and the snap that made his breath rush from him. he felt it, felt a bond form, felt the bond form. he was scared.
he could feel his heart speeding up, his thoughts spinning, every mind-stilling technique he’d mastered over the years seemed to go out the window and azriel felt himself gaping at you in shock.
you were frowning at him now, and he could vaguely feel the touch of your fingers slip down from his hair to sit on his cheek, thumb stroking over his face, and every swipe felt like fire over his skin as his nerves electrified.
“not exactly the reaction you want to a mate bond.”
you were smiling, joking, and the breath once again felt pressed from him. this time, every muscle locked up, he went so still he felt like even the blood in his veins had stopped moving.
“you knew?”
a whirlwind of emotions whipping through him; confusion, anger, sadness, frail grief even as he pulled away from your touch on his face. 
he pushed himself to sit up, legs swinging over the edge of the bed, and the sound of your sigh made irritation bubble within him as he processed it. 
rubbing a hand over his face, he sighed, goosebumps lining his bare chest, all the way down to the boxers shorts he’s stripped down to sleep in.
then, there was a burst of concern in his chest, dizzying and disorientating for a moment before he realised it wasn’t his. it was yours, from the bond.
he snapped up walls around it, much the same feeling as the walls in his mind with rhysand, and just like that, soothing cold like his shadows took over where hot love and concern had once been. 
he stood, trying not to take in the hurt on your face as he closed his end of the bond.
“az..”
he stumbled a little at the sound of his name on your tongue, feeling so much, positive and negative; love and betrayal, hurt and anger, comfort and sadness. it was a maddening concoction.
“you knew! you knew and you didn’t tell me! how could you, how could you do that to me?”
he reached for his leathers, tugging the pants up his legs and fastening them right over his shorts, grabbing for his t-shirt next.
you sat up now, crawling across the bed and tangled in the sheets before reaching a hand out to him. 
“azriel.”
he flinched away from your touch, and your outstretched hand faltering before falling to rest on your thigh instead as you sat back on your heels.
“no, no, no. I need to think, don’t touch me right now. I just.. I need some space.”
“you need to think.. about us? about the bond?”
“I have some things to think about!” he was almost ashamed of the outburst as he tugged on his shirt, not even fastening it behind his back, and grabbing his boots and jacket in hand. 
“right… okay, sure.” your voice cracked, and azriel was sure that would have killed him to hear had he not been swirling with so much anger already.
and then he was leaving, slamming your door behind himself and making the journey back to his room barefoot. he barely processed the walk, he barely remembered seeing lucien in the corridor or seeing feyre in the foyer.
the first time his head was clear once again was hours later, when he found himself in front of a punching bag.
he’d done as he always had, and resorted to mindlessly pounding out his emotions whenever it was too much. there were weapons scattered around himself, practice swords near the wood pillars and spare wrapping for his knuckles on the bench, and he reached a hand out to stop the bag from swinging. 
there were mixed smells in the air, mostly his own sweat, that of the valkyries too. they must have come to training, and he hadn't even noticed. he’d been so caught up, so totally lost in his shadows and his feelings that he’d managed to block out the world entirely. 
he willed them back, away from the frenzy around him and into a somewhat calm semblance behind his body, a writhing mass of cool, collected terror.
it was only once they were drawn back that he noticed his brother, arms crossed, leaning on the doorway with his brows raised. 
“want to spar about it?”
his lips twitched up at the edges, and he glanced the ring, before nodding. 
cassian had always known just what he needed when he was in a mood like this.
then again, he’d never quite had a mood like this before. never the hurt of finding his mate, finding out his mate already knew and had deceived him, and then the betrayal to follow, all within minutes. no, this was brand new.
he didn’t want to talk, not as he watched cassian powder and wrap his hands, not as he watched his brother take stance, and not as they began to throw and dodge punches.
no, it wasn’t until azriel was dripping in sweat and panting so hard his lungs hurt that the therapeutic part of it finally kicked in, and his shoulders felt light enough to let the words sitting on his tongue free.
“she’s my mate.”
“yeah.” cassian didn’t even hesitate, and the shock of realising that cassian knew too was so stark he caught a punch across his jaw.
he swore, spitting out to the side and cutting a glare at his brother. he’d already landed a good few punches of his own, but he’d get him back for that one. 
“you knew as well?”
“yeah.” 
azriel landed a hard blow to his brother’s ribs, prompting more than just that one word out of him with a matching glower.
instead, cassian slowed the movements of his feet until they were standing still, panting and aching and loose of physical tension at last. wordlessly, he had stopped the fight, enough that they were actually going to talk about this, it seemed.
“she told me after that one mission, where you almost died and snapped at her real bad. when she woke up after her burnout, we talked about it. I wanted to apologise to her. she told me, that the bond  had snapped for her during that night when she was caring for you.”
azriel remembered that, or, the morning after, at least. how it had felt to wake up to you, to wake up to touch and feeling loved, and how he’d reacted much the same that morning as he had this morning. 
he’d freaked out, and snapped, and yelled a little bit. he cringed slightly at the comparison. 
his brother was smiling, unwrapping his hands. “so, it snapped for you too, then! when?”
“this morning, when we..” 
azriel cleared his throat as heat rose to his cheeks, and cassian wiggled his brows with a smirk. “when we..?”
“oh, gods, cass. when we kissed, that's it.”
then, cassian’s smile dimmed, and his gaze flicked around the room at the chaos left in azriel’s wake.
“so, if it snapped this morning, what the hell are you doing beating out your frustrations up here? there’s much more enjoyable ways to pass the energy surge, you know.”
he winked, and azriel merely rolled his eyes, but he had no anger left to spare at the moment. 
“I… was overwhelmed. I’ve waited so long, cassian, it took me by surprise. I freaked out a little bit, I was so shocked.”
“and?”
sometimes it scared him just how well his brother could read him. he sighed, trying to clear his thoughts enough to recall the morning the way it had happened, without the fog in his mind. 
“and then she told me that she knew. she knew all this time, knowing how much I cared for her, how much I wanted her, how much I wanted a mate, and she kept it from me.”
“because you’re just known for your calm, logical reactions in moments of emotional stress. obviously.”
that earned cassian a scowl weighed with threat and disdain.
“she said she knew, I freaked out and said I needed some space to think, because how could she do that to me? I needed to leave and think some things through.”
“well, as long as you didn’t say it quite like that, but..” cassian shrugged, grabbing his water bottle and taking a hearty gulp before tossing it to azriel. 
he was parched, but he couldn’t bring himself to drink when cassian had dropped a statement like that on him.
“that’s exactly how I said it. verbatim. what do you mean?”
“are you serious, azriel?” 
rarely did cassian ever take that tone with him, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had, and azriel’s eyes widened a little in shock.
“let me just be sure I’m understanding this correctly. the woman who is head-over-heels for you, constantly gives you her all, openly adores you for all to see, you didn’t even suspect that she was your mate?”
“I mean, I hoped, but I tried not to think too hard so I wouldn't be disappointed-”
his excuse was cut off, ignored, as cassian held his hand up to him. 
“then, when the bond finally snaps for you, because you finally let that last bit of your walls down to actually let yourself be happy, that’s what you say?”
“harsh, cass.”
“you told that sweet, kind woman, who knew and was waiting for you to figure it out on your own, because you’re so stubborn and hard-headed that you won’t just let yourself be happy, that you needed to think? you didn’t stop to think that for all this time she’s been protecting that bond alone, the bond you didn’t pick up, loving you with her whole heart and soul while getting nothing back, you didn’t think about her? what she’s been going through? that about cover it?”
azriel had never quite been lectured like this by cassian before. he could only nod.
“you watched me get my heart broken over and over again by nesta until she realised. and you.. you.. what is there to think about? what, you don’t want her? what, that maybe she’s great for keeping your bed warm but not as a mate?”
something awful, horrible, cold and heavy and sinking settled into his stomach.
his chest felt hollow, that place where a bond had been for only seconds before he’d silenced it felt like a missing limb now.
the last of the angry mist filling him finally dissipated.
if cassian thought those things, then maybe you-..
“oh, gods..”
“you’re such a dumbass.” cassian scoffed, frowning at him and placing his hands on his hips.
“okay, seriously, cassian. you are reaming my ass today, what the hell?”
“you deserve it!”
he couldn't argue that, all he could do was grumble about it.
he dropped those walls back down, reaching out for the bond and tugging. no reply, like a brick wall. he tried again, this time you had shut him out, and he hated how empty that made him feel. how much he must’ve hurt you by doing that.
“do you think I should-”
“I REALLY DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE STILL DOING HERE.”
“OKAY, OKAY.”
it was enough encouragement, enough to spur him from where he was frozen, not even bothering to unwrap his hands as he took off in a jog. 
once again, he was lost to everyone except his own thoughts. 
he missed rhysand as he passed his office and called out a greeting, and he missed elain as he flew in and out of the kitchen, he missed nesta who cursed at him for almost running straight into her.
he searched every room for you, coming up empty everywhere but your bedroom.
he was banging on your door, one hand curled into a fist as he shouted your name, refusing to just barge in when he had so clearly been shut out and cut off, but that resolve was wearing thin the longer you didn’t answer him. 
“angel, please, I just want to talk, stop shutting me out, c’mon.”
his shoulders were slumping, he hoped they weren’t shaking, as your silent treatment settled a heavy sense of foreboding within him.
“hey, az. what are you doing?” elain’s eyes were narrowed on him, and her arms were crossed over her chest as she took him in.
“hey, elain. I can’t find (y/n), she doesn’t want to talk to me.. I fucked up this morning and I know that and I’m sorry!” his voice rose toward the end of his sentence turning back to face the wood of your door and hoping you’d hear it.”
“az, she’s not in there.”
“you know where she is?” he didn’t even have enough to feel embarrassed as his head whipped to her.
“she went back to autumn a couple of hours ago.” elain only shrugged, because she didn’t have a crushing sense of defeat and loss and agony in her chest as she spoke those words. not like he did upon hearing them.
“she.. I mean, she.. what? why? when?” 
elain only shrugged once more. 
“I don’t know. I was out doing some early morning gardening before the heat of the day kicked in, and lucien came out in such a panic all of a sudden and told me he had to go back to autumn immediately, and was taking (y/n) with him. he wouldn’t tell me much more, just that he’d be out of touch for a few days. I barely even got a chance to say goodbye to him before they were winnowing out, bags in hand.” 
she sighed wistfully, clearly missing her mate dearly, and boy did azriel know how that now felt.
he felt hot, all over, and somehow cold at the same time. his body was aching, in all new ways from the vigorous training, his eyes stung so much it hurt to keep them open and will back the oncoming tears. 
“oh, az, don’t worry. they’ll be back soon, I just know it. why don’t we get you some tea, huh? I just brewed a fresh pot of berries and lemon.”
she reached up, one hand on his shoulder and one on his arm to lead him away. it was comforting, the warmth of her touch and the squeeze she gave, the smile to accompany it. but it wasn’t enough, not even close.
so he sat, with a cup of tea clenched between his hands, warming him slowly from the porcelain as elain rolled out bread dough on the counter behind him. 
it was as he took the final sip, staring into the bottom of the blue hand-made mug of feyre’s that elain finally spoke up. the question had been lingering in the air for almost twenty minutes, and he had been delaying it as long as possible.
“do you want to talk about it?”
“not really.”
“talk about it.”
“okay.” 
he’d long since given up on arguing with elain, whether it was her seer abilities, eavesdropping, or an uncanny ability to get information out of people, she’d gotten very good at knowing every single piece of gossip, and it was better to tell her himself than let her puzzle it out or hear it from cassian.
“in a nutshell, (y/n) is my mate, and I fucked it all up.”
“yes, well, I’d managed to piece that much together,” she smirked at him, wiping floury hands on her apron and pouring him a new mug of steaming tea, a spoonful of honey dunking into it to follow before she returned to her bread. “why don’t you tell me the rest?”
“she knew. cassian knew. you knew. everyone but me knew, apparently. the mailman and the courtiers from spring probably know. it snapped for me this morning, and I freaked out a little bit.” he pinched his fingers together, and then winced, expanding them some more “more than a little bit. I told her I needed to think about us, after basically accusing her of lying to me and implying she was awful for doing that, and then I.. stormed out.”
elain blew out a slow breath, slicing the dough into small cubes before shaping them up in circles. “well, it’s not great, I won’t lie. but, I don’t think she’d just run away from you. she’ll come back, she loves you, azriel, that means loving all the flaws that come with you, like brash decisions and saying the wrong thing in the heat of the moment and storming out.”
he let out an empty laugh at her teasing. somewhere deep down, he could see the logic in it all, but that didn’t stop it from hurting right now. 
“oh, az..” she brushed her hands down again, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and propping her chin atop his head, squeezing him lightly. he raised a hand, patting her elbow where it sat on his shoulder and sighing. “you two are going to be just fine, I’m sure of it.”
“are you saying that as my friend or as a seer?”
her silence was answer enough for him and he groaned, head flopping down to sit on his forearms on the table as she only chuckled.
that was how feyre and rhys found him an hour later when they came down for sandwiches made of fresh bread, and he was forced to say it all over again. 
then that evening, mor joined everyone for dinner and rhys forced him to reiterate it all over once more as he smirked. 
the following morning, nesta gave him a look as she passed him in the corridor, and he knew that cassian had told her, too.
the only reprieve was amren, who simply did not care, and told everyone as much when sensing the foul mood hanging over him. 
for three days he moped, every evening making him feel worse and worse.
he was lonely, his bed was cold, his chest was colder, and he felt like his heart wasn’t even beating. 
he’d always been confused before when hearing the rumours, the stories of people with rejected or lost mates, and yet now, he understood. 
he didn’t want to get up, he didn’t want to leave his bed, he wanted to lay, and fester alone, and wait.
azriel had been just fine before, just fine when nobody touched him, nobody told him what he could and couldn't have, when he was moping and broody and he’d never known any different. he was just fine imagining what his life could have been and never having it. 
but then he’d had it. he’d had love and affection and touch, he’d had someone make him their priority, he’d had someone to cheer him up on bad days and to make him laugh when he wanted to frown. he’d had someone. and now, he was back to having no one.
it was dinner on the fourth night, as he was sipping on his wine, when the hairs on the back of his neck stood. 
his shadows stilled for a split second, swirling in slow motion before becoming frantic.
the front door was opened a moment later. the room around him went silent, all eyes moving to the foyer.
his spine straightened almost painfully as his hands clenched, trying to resist the urge to fly up from his seat and toward you.
a small smile formed on your face as you glanced around upon making it to the kitchen, and as rhysand stood, his legs twitched, wanting to copy. wanting to follow, to make his way to you, to-
“I’m sorry we just disappeared.” lucien sighed, wiping a hand over his face. he looked exhausted, like he’d spent days on end without sleep, he’d rarely seen the male so stressed. you looked worse. 
concern and panic flared up within him as he took in the circles under your eyes, the slump of your shoulders like even standing up was exhausting.
“I couldn't say anything until, well, until we knew what had actually happened. no easy way to say it, so, here it is. my father is dead.”
that shocked him, enough that he managed to tear his gaze from you for a second to stare at lucien, jaw dropping like almost everyone else. 
elain’s chair screeched back, she was on her feet a moment later, flying towards her mate and into his arms as she mumbled soothing apologies mixed with vague curses about the man, and lucien only chuckled.
“what happened?” mor burst, frowning in an attempt to seem apologetic, he was sure most of the looks around the table were false sympathy. he wasn’t sure that even lucien was all that upset by it. 
“officially? sickness. unofficially? assassination.”
gasps sounded around the table, and he didn’t care to take in any of it, frowning when feyre stood from her seat and made her way to you, squeezing your hands in her own, and azriel hated it, because he wanted to be the one holding you.
before he could move, rhys was tapping at his shields, a sharp talon scratching down those mental walls he’d put up.
“lucien, we should talk about it. my office, if you’re willing?”
the redhead only nodded, pressing a kiss to his mate’s head before disentangling himself. 
he glanced to his brother, mental conversation taking place, and he knew it was right, no matter how much he hated it. if beron had been assassinated, they needed to talk, and that involved him.
the sympathetic look on rhys’ face did nothing to soothe him, and it was like dragging his body through wet cement as he followed lucien, rhys and cassian out of the dining room and to his office.
for three torturous hours he tried to focus and give his best, and yet you were all he could think about. 
you were so close, you were back within the same four walls as he was, you were here, he could talk to you, get to you. he needed to.
as soon as he was free to go, he was outside of your bedroom door, knuckles tapping against the wood until he heard the faint ‘come in’ from the other side.
you were sitting in your bed, only the lamp beside you on.
“azriel, hey. I’ve been waiting for you.”
he couldn't feel any bone in his body as he all but sagged with relief. “you have?”
you only nodded as he took a few steps closer. “we should probably talk.”
well, there goes that relief.
his throat was burning, he felt so exposed and vulnerable and lost.
he was so caught up that he’d never noticed the return of that bond, the reopening of your end, until a wave of reassurance washed down it toward him.
there were tears in his eyes and his laugh was croaky as he rubbed his chest.
“I’m so sorry. I thought you left. I thought you were gone for good, I was so scared you weren’t coming back to me I thought I drove you away, and you have no idea how much that hurt, I couldn't even think. it- it was like my heart was missing from my chest, I love you so much, I can’t be apart from you, okay? I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for what I said, I didn’t mean to make you leave, I didn’t mean to make you sad. not that morning, or the morning after that night you saved my life. I’ll be better, okay? I won’t be so grumpy and I won’t jump to conclusions, and I’ll just tr-”
“oh, oh, az-” he could sense how overwhelmed you were, he was only making it worse, and he watched you kick at the sheets and crawl toward the edge of the bed. “azriel, baby, c’mere.”
you held your hands held out to him, just like they had days ago, and he didn’t make the same mistakes as last time. 
he stumbled forward, until your hands could take his face softly, thumbs swiping away the tears that were flowing steadily over his cheeks. 
one of his hands closed over your own, the other gripping the opposite wrist.
“I’m so sorry, angel.”
“az, gods, honey, I’d never leave you. I’m sorry, that I had to close the bond, but it was a court-wide lockdown, I was liable for treason if I didn’t. all communication had to be cut off, even lucien to elain.”
he could only nod, he’d known that much, because elain had started to grow just as sad as he’d been as of yesterday morning. 
“I’m not going anywhere, ever, okay? one little hiccup isn’t going to ruin what we have. you take as much time as you need to process it, gods know I spent the whole night I was mopping your forehead and checking your pulse was still there processing it.”
you pulled him forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and azriel was sure no drug or alcohol or deep breath as he broke the surface of the water had ever felt like this.
“I thought there was no way this moody bat who wants nothing to do with me is my mate.”
he laughed, hands finding your hips, your cheek resting on his temple as you hugged him close. “I’m sorry I was so rude the morning after.”
“that’s okay, I already forgave you for that a while ago. can you forgive me for not telling you for so long?”
“I already forgave you days ago. I’ve been in agony missing you ever since.”
you pulled away, despite his protests, kissing each of his damp cheeks gently. 
“do you want to get ready for bed and join me? I’ve almost finished my chapter.”
“you sure you still want me?”
“I’m never going to stop wanting you, azriel. you’re mine, and I’m yours. I love you.”
“I love you.”
azriel was quick to strip down, all the way to his boxers, leaving his leathers over the back of the chair and his boots by the door.
you were still kneeling and looking at him fondly, and the air around him seemed to warm with affection, every nerve in his body relaxing.
“you ready for bed?”
“..yes.”
“you want some really clingy cuddles tonight?”
“I don’t think I could be close enough to you tonight if we actually became one person.” 
he wasn't sure where such a confession came from, but you laughed at him, big smile and eyes closing and he didn’t care. if bearing his soul to you meant relaxed laughing and pretty smiles and feeling like this, he’d tell you every soppy, silly thought he’d ever had.
while your eyes were closed, he moved, all but tackling you onto the bed and burying his face into your neck. 
it only made you laugh more, hands gripping at his shoulders, squirming as his hands ran up and down your sides to tickle, pinned underneath him and breathless as you giggled. 
“az! what about the covers, my book, the lights!”
“don’t care.” he pressed a kiss to the crook between your neck and shoulder, finally relenting his tickling to simply lay on you instead.
love and playful joy and the feeling of fullness flushed down the bond, filling his chest as you caught your breath under him. 
you shifted again.
“az, honey, please-”
“I love it when you call me that.” he groaned, nudging his nose against your jaw, cheeks aching from the smile on his lips. you only tugged at a handful of the covers under your bodies.
“I'm gonna’ freeze in the night, I’m not made of the same stuff you are.”
“that’s what happens when you wear these little nightgowns to bed.”
pinching some of the silk slip between his fingers, he jerked it lightly, and you smacked his hand away.
“they’re comfy! and besides, do you know how hot it gets in bed with you?” he pushed himself up, unable to stop the cassian-like smirk on his face as a very cassian-like joke passed through his mind. he needed to stop spending so much time with his brother. “oh, cut it out. you are like a furnace, but above the covers, I’m all exposed, my legs will get cold.”
“no winning with you, huh?”
“you’re gonna’ have to get used to losing arguments if you’re gonna’ be with me, honey.” 
he sighed dramatically, despite the skip of his heart which he knew you felt too, and he lifted himself up, pulling back the covers so you could get beneath, and settling himself in beside you. 
with the book gone and the lights out, azriel shuffled himself closer, resting one scarred palm on your cheek in the dark. “now can we cuddle?”
“yes, shadowsinger, illyrian warrior, terrifying-” he scoffed, leaning in to cut you off with a kiss, one which was cut short by your giggling.
“wasn’t it you that told me none of those things define me, and they don’t stop me being worthy of love?”
“yes, my love, my honey, my mate-”
“much better.”
“we can cuddle now.”
he tugged you closer, close enough that his forehead touched yours, cheeks on the same pillow, and he’d never felt happier than this moment, bond singing between your bodies.
after a moment, you moved, head tucking under his chin, legs tangling, and he circled his arms right around you, one wing following.
azriel felt like he was practically melting into you, as the slow traces of your fingers up and down his arm drained away every bit of stress from his body.
“everything is different with you, az. when you hold me, I feel so safe. I feel protected, like nothing can go wrong in the world.”
his heart swelled and he dipped enough to kiss your hairline in response, your nose following, before his lips were meeting with your own.
it was fragile, and soft, and perfect. everything he’d ever wanted. 
it was the kind of kiss that promised every day, not the passion of one night or the teasing of something more. this kiss spoke to every part of him, it filled his heart, made him proud and happy and contented, and he loved it.
“when you hold me, I feel like I can finally be vulnerable. like someone sees every single part of me, and loves me. I don’t feel scared to show you every part of my soul. I am completely and wholly yours.”
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